This may not have been the kind of bar Reinhardt was used to, what with its post-modern look, and variety of drinks he's never even heard of. But at the same time, it didn't mean he wasn't enjoying himself, given the way he held up his stein, and took a swig of it while recounting stories to some of the strangers sitting beside him. He was more used to the tavern-styled bars that were common in Germany back in his world, which even to those standards, were pretty dated. But to Reinhardt, that was just what a bar felt like. A crappy building, packed to the brim with lively patrons. Everyone smashed off their ass, sharing nonsensical stories, and waking up in the morning in absolutely no recollection of how they ended up there.

It just wasn't a bar otherwise.

The future was a little different, but it didn't mean Reinhardt couldn't bring some of that here. If nothing else, he could drink everyone under the table, and he had more than enough stories to pass the time if anyone wanted to sit with him. Of course, some times, he was perfectly content to drink alone, and simply wait until the next patron took a seat next to him. Whatever the case, whoever sits beside him will find that he has no shortage of things to talk about.