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Cath Delaney (dian_cecht) wrote in inpoormerit,

He smiled as she laughed at his comeback. Cath couldn't help but think she was rather lovely when she smiled. It was his turn to chuckle when she explained her name. "Sounds like mine," he admitted. "She's the one who named me. Cathair means 'battle man' in Irish Gaelic. My dad always got wound up by his friends that I'd been poorly named, since I was rather quiet and bookish as a boy."

Cathair nodded, stifling a grin. "'Fraid so," he admitted. "Although since you're not cursing and waving a nightstick in my face for stopping someplace on the street too long, I'll have to say you remind me of American police, not Irish police." Cath disliked the British run Irish police force on principal, let alone how biased they were against Catholics and nationalists especially. Even the ones who didn't make trouble. "More I've had too much experience with the pushy sort. Belfast is a rougher place than most people realize."

"I'm sure she'll be nicer to you than me, considering," he pointed out. Really, horrible social skills aside, Riffraff didn't come off as the really dangerously loony sort. Just a shut-in who preferred machines to people. He'd worked with both types and was fairly good at telling them apart. "Yes, although I've only been at this an hour or two. There was no one at the pub when I was eating, but I'm wagering there's more than just us here."

Cathair was seeing a possible connection, from what he knew, but it still didn't make sense.