Axley often lost track of time when she truly absorbed herself into her music, and she was several songs in by the time she opened her eyes again to take stock of the evening. Her first glance, as always, was to her hat, sitting in front of her as a makeshift dish for particularly inspired listeners to leave a sign of appreciation of her craft. There were...a couple coins in there. Nothing eye-opening, but it was enough for the night, at least. Axley sighed to herself, giving a small wave to the couple listeners perched around the stage who had migrated with drink to get a better earful of what she had to offer. She then plucked the change she had earned from her cap and flipped it back onto her head. "I'll be back after a quick break," she offered to those who cared to listen, before making her way to the bar.
'Quick break' entailed her dinner and a drink or two. Not enough to get smashed like she wanted, but enough to keep her mind buoyant and her mood light. She flagged down the bartender with a soft smile on her face. She'd earned enough for something a little special this evening, she supposed. "Get me a Bloated Roach, Garras, if you would please. And some whiskey." The bartender was quick to put in the order, and Axley appreciated his service. She and Garras weren't exactly friends, but she had populated the Roach enough, both on business and for pleasure, that they were on a first name basis. He knew her favorite drink (rum with a dash of cherry), and she knew his marriage troubles (his wife had been caught in bed with another man last month). She kept to herself at the bar, not interacting with the patrons unless spoken to. Axley wasn't in much of a mood to interact unless she had to; she was sure that'd change once she'd had a few drinks, but for the moment she let the somber mood linger a while longer.
Her order was brought out to her-a pork chop cut to be shaped like a fat cockroach's body, with legs and antennae made out of jerky, the whole thing drizzled in a light honey glaze. She slid her payment across the table and took a large swig of her whiskey before digging into her meal. The glaze did its best to hide the fact that the meat was a little dry, but Axley found she didn't much care. It was still good meat, and that was what mattered most over how it was prepared. Perhaps back in her old life she would have cared a little bit more, but in the Imperial Ruins, most people simply took what they could get. She glanced around her, checking out the patrons for the night...most of them didn't really catch her eye, but the uniform of a guardsman briefly netted her attention. He seemed to have a bit of company around him...nothing unusual. Everyone wanted to pick their brains or simply pester them with one thing or another. Not her, though; she was content to eat her meal in peace before she'd strut back onstage for another rousing round of entertainment in the hopes of making a little more coin before night fully fell.