The lights in the room were already switched on, despite the relatively early hour. They reflected in the glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, in the polished counter, and in the smooth tiled floor. Not many ponies were in the room, though more would most likely come as the evening turned to night. Still the space behind the counter was unattended, empty, though the contents there were not in any danger of theft while under the watchful eye of the guard near the door. A mare sat there, relatively alone. She'd brought her own glass, and was drinking from a bottle also her own.
"It's just a lemonade," she said, as a pony sat next to her. "Well, mostly. Maybe lemon juice is more appropriate? Water, lemon juice, salt, a little sugar. Some alcohol. Not that much alcohol." She'd dressed up slightly for the occasion. Not quite a full on dress, but silver bands around her hooves with round blue gems in them, and some odd cross between a necklace and a scarf going from one shoulder to midway along her body's length on the opposite side, its fabric silver too, it nicely complemented her light blue coat. She moved aside some of the bangs of her two tone mane as she turned to look at the stallion who'd sat bedside her.
He looked at her. He seemed some mixture of annoyed, worried, and surprised. His coat was dark, though not quite black, and his mane was copper green, well kept. His eyes were a deep blue, almost purple. He did not wear any kind of dress, although he was still well groomed enough not to look out of place there. His hooves were polished, his horn too, his posture elegant without being overly noticeable, subtly contained. Yet his features as he looked at the mare betrayed the way not everything was right at that moment. "So you're our mare?"
"No one's mare but my own," she said back. "Don't get strange ideas just because I'm working for you. With you. Eh." She drank from her glass again. "Would have been more fun if you'd been wearing something. Could have given you a better demonstration that way. Oh well."
The stallion still seemed distrustful. A reasonable reaction given the mare's attitude. "You'd do better showing me something good, or I might think you think this is some kind of game. Call me Dust, and you?"
"Still going by Brush." The mare put the cap back on her bottle, then rolled it down the pavement towards the guard. "And it is a game, to me. We're having fun." She passed the bottle to Dust. "Now shut up and watch this. I think I timed it right." She kept her eyes on the rolling bottle.
Dust watched quietly, bottle in hoof, as the rolling one slowly reached the guard and bumped into his leg. The guard picked it up, looked at it, then walked back to the two ponies with it. "Miss, your..." He trailed off, putting forward an empty hoof.
The mare leaned her head to the side, putting on a slightly drunker tone. "What's your damage, friend?"