Re: The Bar: Cat & Isaiah
Isaiah knew the story, the woman that had been strong even in the face of too much set against her. Knew how the woman (that his father called Artemis, though he had no doubt that wasn't her real name) had caught his father's attention and worry. Knew what had happened to her - some of the last information he'd received before the letters stopped coming. Knew that without the serum that had finally been shared with her, she would have died.
They had that in common, at least. Though he didn't know that it was something he had in common with the woman in front of him on the other side of the bar. "Hey, you saying it works for me. I like the way you say it. But you've got to get people in the door to hear you." He gestured around at the empty room with the glass in his hand as evidence, expertly spilling not a drop on the clean bar. "Hence, sign." His smile was easy, the back and forth a practiced sort of flow that didn't seem like it took much effort at all. A swig of the beer in his glass seemed easy as well, like a long pull of water instead of something hoppy and malty.
And he grinned. "What, like 'A+++, would drink again. Pretty lady very nice.'?"