Jersey’s place stood as the sole reminder of the past, rising proud in a wasteland of crumbled skyscrapers. Somehow it had survived; although, some would say, it hadn’t escaped unscathed.
Jersey Malone, owner and operator, still saw herself as a glorified barkeep, although her place had become so much more than a bar. Now, it was the only safe haven in the city. A place where all were welcome – reanimated, genetics, and human.
Not everyone followed the rules in her establishment, but Jersey kept them in line. The extent of her arsenal was unknown to many, but what she exhibited when things got bad was enough to make even the most malevolent take pause.
Jersey had long since lost all patience for fluff; things that didn’t matter, as she was known to say. She shaved her head on a regular basis, and she wore whatever she could find, but her style leaned towards khakis and tanks. Her black combat boots had seen better days, but until she could scrounge a new pair that were better than what she had, she laced them up each day and kept on going. Many commented that her ice-blue eyes were the only color left in the city, and that may have been true, but Jersey didn’t much care.
Color or not, she had a business to run in this god-forsaken city.
Pushing through the door, she strode into her place, glancing around at the wary patrons. There were more than usual. It must have been an interesting night.
I haven’t participated in Chuck’s challenge for a while, and I wasn’t necessarily planning on doing this one, but when I read the challenge, Jersey started forming in my head. She was the first thing I thought about when I woke up this morning, so I guess she wants to come to life. Chuck’s challenge this week was to create a character in less than 250 words that someone else can use next week.
A little outside my usual writing style, but I hope you like her.