Perkinji Pub

Owner: The man who owns this establishment has only shown up here a handful of times to check to be certain the establishment was being run the way he liked it. Little is known about him, save, that he goes by the name of Ben of Perkinji - where ever that is! The Manager at present is Adam Wessel (Weasel as his crew calls him.). Prior to landing this position he was a department manager at "General Imports", before he was let go when it was turned into "Grand Imports" by it's new owner. He is a thin fellow, with a weasel like face, thick glasses, dark brown hair cropped short, and doesn't stand over 5'6" tall. He has little control over the clientele, and just does his best to keep silent.
Reputation: A glum and dark place frequented by social outcasts, thieves, and occasionally killers for hire. It is avoided by most, save for those who fit the motif. It is also a haven for Midnight Blue, untaxed drugs, and ladies of the night - licensed or unlicensed.
Description of Establishment: A 120'x80' two story section of Level 2, with a business face that is left in the natural concrete color. It's bland exterior is highlighted by a bank of nearly blacked out windows running the full length of the business face and a black light neon sign reading "Perkinji Pub" above the entrance. Inside it is dimly lit with a similar motif to the gothic bars of the early 21st century. It's seldom loud inside however, with music - usually of the Techno-Slam variety, playing low in the background - and people either remaining quiet, or whispering to one another. There are no seats at the bar, and there are round tables filling the room - save for along the very edges of the establishment - a bank of booths surrounding the bottom floor, have beads covering the openings to each of them. The top floor is exclusively for storage and sleeping quarters for the Manager.
Description of Services: Aside from providing alcoholic beverages at a mediocre price, the Perkinji Pub is also a great place to go to attain feminine companionship, untaxed (read: cheap!) drugs, or a Black Market contact who can get you everything from information to illegal arms.

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