For those who were willing to venture past the busier parts of the business district, they would notice that the street lamps would flicker with every step, the wind regardless of weather would howl through the ally ways, and eventually, the road grew dark and a fog rolled in. It was the witching hour, or because we are here, the bitching hour. At the end of the main street a large old Victorian house rises up from the mist, the fingers of bare branches from dead trees grasp at it, swaying as the wind moves them. It grows darker as clouds move across the moon and any shadow that was disappeared. In the distance, the caw of a crow echoes, sending shivers along even the strongest's spine.

The building was a traditional four stories, a large porch wrapped around it with broken down benches, and a half supported swing. Ivy and weeds grew over what it could, weaving through the balustrade of the railing and up the columns and over the roof to the second and even third floor. The third floor is more of a tower, and the roofs are lined with iron spikes that as the lightning flashes you would swear were dripping blood. 

The windows on the bottom floor were boarded up, hints of light in orange and red would flicker through the cracks occasionally, with the sound of a sinister laugh. The stairs up the porch creak and groan, the door swings open before you even reach a hand out to open it. Standing on the porch an unseen force pushes you through the door, and into the light beyond. 

The ground floor is the main entertainment area. In the far corner, the band plays lively music, although they look normal those who only see them out of the corner of their eye may notice they're a bit more mist than solid. Tables and chairs are randomly around the place, some old, some older, some broken, some newish, nothing makes sense, and the sense of unease fills you until you need nothing more than a stiff drink or seven. You stand at the bar waiting for the bartender to take your order, thinking about the building and this place. For that was the charm of this old, possibly hunted building. 

You found it by being brave, but once there you'd need to be three sheets to the wind to survive. 

Gen depart from the train station and heads for the exit. Walking down the street he notices a place unfamiliar to him. It must be a new bar, he thought. He decided to stop in for drink.

He heads for entrance and walk inside. He was very spacious for a bar. He approached the bar and took a seat. He motions for barkeep.

"Good day, can I have whatever you have on tap?"

Gen reaches into his pocket and get a cigarette and his lighter. He lights it and takes a drag.

Walking beside the large furry mass that was the great Bearistotle the little girl tightened the fingers that had a grip on his fur. "Maybe.." she said her voice a bit shakey, "Maybe its best if I don't walk." the bear stopped and dipped down allowing Oliva to quickly maneuver up onto his back, both hands in his fur tightly. "Ok, thank you Mister Bear," she said as he started walking again. She gave a few pats and scritches to him as they moved but eventually her hands resumed gripping. 

"I don't think coming here at night time was very smart, Mister Bear," she said as she looked at the sky watching it grow darker as the moon rose higher. "We should probably find someplace safe to stay," she said before the sound of an owl in the night caused her to jump and let out a little scream. Olivia buried her face in the fur and closed her eyes as tight as she could. "Please Mister Bear." 

The bear walked on, a bit faster now, and eventually, a large house loomed ahead. It smelled ok, it seemed ok, it was also the only place that appeared to be open. With a mournful sound, Bearistotle let the little girl know they had arrived. 

She sat up and wiped her eyes on her sleeve before looking around. "Ok." she said softly, as she got off the back of the bear and headed into the house. The door opened before she had even reached the top of the stairs, but there was no one there to open it. "Oh..." she said before gripping the bear at her side and entering the building. 

Bearistotle could feel the fear welling up inside Olivia as he felt her grip tighten on his fur. He quickly ushered her inside the house as the door closed itself behind them. Beats sleeping in a cave I guess. It has been a long day of running around playing, it's time Olivia gets us some dinner. 

Moving further into the room, Olivia still firmly attached to his side, he finds an open spot at the bar and lifts Olivia onto the stool. Taking up a spot on the floor next to her he keeps his eyes open for any funny business. 

Apparition watched from the shadows as Genesiss entered. He took a seat and ordered whatever was on tap from the bartender. The bartender served the drink but he didn't see Genesiss pick it up. Interesting she thought. 

"How are you doing today feller. Fancy having a first customer thanks for stopping in." 

Apparition walked away as quickly as they appeared. 

Soon a small girl and a bear entered though the front. The girl looked scared but the bear looked scary. Not sure the feeling of the situation Apparition needed to find a way to separate the two. Running towards the back she quickly found some honey she places it on a table a little ways from the bar but close enough where the bear can see it.  She then got some crayons and paper and waited for the bear to move before approaching the young girl.  

It was late and he really needed a drink. He saw a bar not too far from his location. He started walking and headed for the entrance. He walked inside to a pretty lavish place. He made his way to the counter and took a seat nearby.

He grabbed his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and pulls one out. There was some matches on the counter so he took one. He lights his cigarette and takes a drag. Moments later he sees the barkeep coming his way.

"How are you my good man? I will take a glass of Jack, please."

It was early Sunday morning, streets bustling. Having laid low in DT overnight awaiting some come back on her jaunt to the emporium Grisella decided to take stock and potentially meet a few of the local heads.

Heading into the bar right behind another she looks around, seeing tables full she enquires with a guy who just ordered  a galss of jack if she could bum a smoke.

the twins look at Apparition and feel a pain in their ribs

'dude, did you fight with our grandfather?  he said you were a brilliant boxer, we need to see if we can pull this off'

"Hi folks, Jim here with today's local conditions report."

Jim adjusts his tie and continues, "The streets containing Detroit's business district have an anomalous foul spot within them, where things must be bolted down or they'll fly away with the wind. We've got gusts at about 20 to 30 miles per hour everyday and all the time. This one particular zone, roughly centered around a local establishment, Three Sheets to the Wind, has plagued residents continuously since the bar's opening."

"For legal reasons, we won't be going into any theories or ideas as to why this local phenomena has occurred. Nonetheless, we would like to warn residents and tourists to bring a windbreaker, or if you're driving, make sure your vehicle has fog lights. Back to you, Kate."

Apparition turned for a moment and out of nowhere the place was now hopping with business. She scrambled over to the bar and grabbed two glasses. Filling one with gin and one with whiskey. She quickly handed the gin to Puppy and then moved over and slid the whiskey to Genesis.

Apportion heard a young lady ask to bum a smoke from another customer. She quickly reached under the bar and grabbed a pack and headed towards the lady. 

"Here miss you can have this entire pack I just quit." 

Just then another customer started asking questions about the good ole days of the boxing arena. 

"Yes young lad I spared with many of folk winning some and losing some but having a joy all around. Was great times hopefully we can get the arena up and going again it was great fun." 

After hearing a bit from TheWeatherReport Appartion smiled. 

"I'm no weather woman but it seems quite nice here if I say so myself." 

With Apparition distracted Olivia took this chance to sneak around the back of the bar and immediately was on the hunt. Keeping her eyes peeled she started moving jars, bottles and boxes here and there seeking the real prize of the day. She knew this ghost had to have some, who could run a bar and not have any? Suddenly, her prize was before her. A large jar, brimming with sweet juice and even sweeter cherries. Letting out a yelp of excitement, she tugged the jar free and turned around to scamper back to a table to gorge herself. 

Ratty entered the bar, his mouth as dry as Thors gusset, desperate for mead

'Bring me mead my good ghostly thing, and keep it coming'

The Squirrel God was making his way to a booth when he tripped over Olivia scurrying off with a jar of something

'arsebiscuits'