His first moments in the restaurant made Samuel glad he had invited Brighid along. They strode in just in time to catch the tail end of what he knew could surely not be a serious conversation. It was possible, given the assembled company, that the alcohol had already begun to flow; he attributed the temporary adoption of such a strange topic to this and this alone. He cast a glance around the table, recognizing some of the crowd from the bar, some from other places. He nodded a brief greeting to Paul, distracted almost immediately as from the corner of his eyes he noted faint cracks spiderwebbed over the walls. The dust and paint chips littering the floor spoke to the recent arrival of the marks; Samuel said nothing of these, merely quirking a brow higher still as he drew up alongside the table. Clearing his throat, he nodded to Lia, sliding into the seat alongside hers.
"Lia," he said, "good to see you." His eyes darted from hers, searching the table for any other familiar faces, finding himself disappointed by the result. He turned then to his guest, smiling up to Brighid as he pulled out another chair beside his own. "Save me," he mouthed up to her.