[Take charge, check. Flirty? Well, more trolling than really flirty when it came to a place like this. But whatever, Bridget just used what she had as a weapon whenever she needed to. Most men just happened to lower their guard around a show of curves and skin.]

I don't mind, the name's Bridget. Just let me collect my journal...

[The glass of rum was left unsipped as she stood, all imposing five feet of her, and went over to the bartender. A small coin from her winnings and he handed her a book alarmingly similar to Sakura's.]