"Promises, promises," Ari said, shaking her head with a laugh. As Aspel's drink arrived, she raised her own glass to bring them together with a solid clink. "You never keep them, you know." She took a long drink, her eyes laughing over the rim of the glass. "I should be cross with you, really I should."
Deciding to settle in - this was more entertaining by far than what's-his-name, Ari perched on the stool next to Aspel's to finish off her wine. The bottle would make its way back to her sooner rather than later, if she had to guess, but the majority of the people who had entered the bar with her had sectioned off into pairs or small groups. A couple of those who had celebrated a bit too hard were already senseless on the floor. "You should talk about clean noses," she said matter-of-factly, reaching out to wipe her thumb over the bridge of Aspel's. "You've soot on yours." Hardly any, if she were being honest, and not that this was an uncommon sight for someone who worked with arms and armor, but the jibe was impossible to resist. "As for me, I've been the very model of decorum." She polished of the last of the wine in her glass and set it down on the bar; it was full again moments later. "Well," she qualified, "the particular Theater District brand of decorum, but then, I'm unacquainted with any other kind."