Antigone finished her second drink and set the glass down on the bar. "I write angry articles about injustice for a feminist blog," she said. "In between burying my mother's mortal children."
She knew it was a bit of a conversation killer, that one, and found that she was a bit sorry for that. Rough as this conversation was, she didn't want it to die. She should probably put a bit more effort into keeping it alive, if that was the case, but Antigone wasn't quite sure how. "I'll get you other drink," seemed like it might work, and she waved at the bartender again to make it happen.