Re: Log: Iris & Isaac
[The club was not her usual sort of place, but she did her best to pretend as if she was comfortable with things, sitting quietly in the chair she was motioned toward. The near-dismissal of the wave didn't bother her, and she simply used the quiet passing moments to study him. In the past she likely would have averted her eyes, looked down at her hands (which were folded so carefully left-over-right to hide the still-scabbed line that emerged from under her cuff to cut from the inside of her right wrist, over the meat of her thumb and up to the knuckle of it). But she looked at him instead, quiet and still as he finished his work.
And she was able to hold his gaze when he looked up. Not with any sort of challenge, just watching. And at the question, she simply nodded. Never one for many words in person, she'd found that she was even less talkative since waking up in a Gotham hospital. And this was likely part of why her other interviews had gone so poorly. She caught the hint of the South in his words, familiar from Orin and the years she'd spent at the hospital in Georgia, and it caused the slightest shift in her expression, a softening of the line of her mouth.]