For the daring Tom Jones
It wasn't often that Lady Heather stepped out of her office to find a bar in place of her expected hallway. Oddly, the first thing that tipped her off were the different sounds coming from the bar.

When you were used to screams and the sounds of darker things, it was an obvious change. Heather frowned, bringing her hand over the curve of her neck. She didn't know quite what to make of this, so she walked over to the bar and laid her hands over the top, very much hoping she looked like she looked as if she was still in control and not as confused as she felt.

"Who would like to tell me where I am?"