A moment was taken between conversation to cast a glance around. The clatter of ice in the glass of his fresh drink was drowned out by conversation. He never worried about being overheard as most conversations here were done in subtle whispers or in a way that looked more personal and private than beyond the coat closet entryway.
Roman looked then at the new drink, and the old one Noah had set back down, opting for the fresh one. It was plucked up and sipped from, then set back down casually.
To Ro, he glanced around Noah. “So, Arrow,” as he’d been introduced and assumed that was what she wanted to be called, “tell me about yourself? Interesting doesn’t seem to begin to encompass you.” At least not in the way Noah had phrased it. He was only making conversation after all, doing his best to play nice and get to know the few in Noah’s circle.