Zev laughed at Isaac's joke. It was one he had practiced many, many times in front of the mirror. "Something like that," he replied. "Business was good before, but nothing like this."

Whatever Isaac was — naïve kid, untrained Rocket grunt, a random boy who suddenly kept showing up in Zev's life — any company was better than the patron who had started sobbing into his beer. Zev said something reassuring to the man before standing and making his way over to Isaac.

"Good timing," he murmured to Isaac as he threw an arm around the kid's shoulders and started walking him toward the bar. "I needed a rescue from Brooks' whining. He's not taking his wife's cheating very well, so he's been coming here a lot recently. I mean, who can blame him?"

They reached the bar and Zev let Isaac go, sliding into a barstool. "So, you're actually old enough to drink? I don't believe it," he teased with another laugh. "What's your poison?"

Isaac Merlo

NOTES
+ Social

As difficult as it was to believe, the kid really was old enough to drink. Zev handed Isaac back his ID and a black two-page drink menu.

"We don't do flights here, but you can check out our specialties," he said. "Cocktails and wines are in there, but we also have beers by the bottle and on tap. But if you don't see anything you like, I'm sure my bartenders can whip you up whatever you like."

The first page of the menu boasts eight different wolf-themed cocktails with names like Blood Moon, Wild Hunt, Sunset Howl, and Winter Run. They ranged from a fruity gin drink to a clean vodka cocktail to something very similar to a cosmopolitan.

"I prefer the Wild Hunt," Zev said, gesturing to the one described like a whiskey sour, "but it's got a bit of a punch."

Isaac Merlo

NOTES
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"James, get my friend here a Wild Hunt," Zev hollered at the bartender closest to them.

"You got it, boss," came the reply.

Zev winked at Isaac as the man named James started gathering the necessary ingredients. "This one's on the house," the bar owner said to Isaac with a crooked grin.

The drink arrived in mere moments: high quality bourbon, freshly squeezed lemon juice, and just a splash of simple syrup for a touch of sweetness to counterbalance the tartness. A thin orange wheel and a bright red cherry topped the concoction as garnish.

At Isaac's question, Zev leaned against the counter and took a good look around the crowded bar. And then he recited the story he'd forged together with Seraphine D’aureville back when he'd first arrived at Hoenn. "When I got out of military service back in Kanto — this was years ago, by the way — I ended up working at a couple of bars. Security at first, because, you know." He shrugged. "I ended up learning a thing or two from the bartenders and gave it a go myself. It's pretty fun, actually, and I'm good at it."

He turned back to Isaac to see how the younger man was liking his drink. "When I came to Hoenn after the war, I figure, why not open my own bar?" Though he still smiled, it faltered somewhat. He'd practiced that, too. People weren't supposed to relish memories of war. "It took a huge amount of work to get Howling off the ground, but it was worth it."

Isaac Merlo

NOTES
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Zev saw the way Isaac's gaze flitted to the Help Wanted sign posted up on the bar where customers could see, but he himself didn't look in its direction. Instead, Zev restored the friendly smile to his face and nodded in agreement.

"Exactly," he replied. "You never know what sort of hidden talents you have if you don't try. I didn't know the first thing about mixology, but I took to it really quickly. So, you know, try everything once, all right?"

Of course, Zev was not just talking about the activities that directly contributed to the persona he wore in public. Isaac was a smart kid; Zev could admit that, at least. After all, Isaac had smoothly gone along with Zev's act the moment he'd greeted the boy. They were playing a game, and Zev had lain down the rules. The fact that Isaac was keeping up was a good sign.

Maybe having the other man around wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe he could even teach Isaac a thing or two.

"Anyway, what about you? What's going on in your life lately?"

Would the kid ask about the flier?

Isaac Merlo

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Zev laughed again. "I don't know," he teased. "Normally you have to submit a résumé and go through an interview process first. But I'll tell you what. Come by tomorrow at 4 pm, which is happy hour, and we'll put you through the paces as line staff — kind of a waiter-busser combo."

The lowest job on the hierarchy of jobs in a bar, line staff were the catch-all jobs that weren't specialized. They handed out menus at the tables, took dinner orders, made sure patrons were doing all right, and cleaned up tables once customers were done. A young man with a personality like Isaac's should do well in theory.

"Then, if you do a good enough job for a little while, we can see where your specialty lies," Zev continued. "Kitchen or bar. But you need some ground-level experience first. How does that sound?"

Isaac Merlo

NOTES
+ Social

Zev's smile did not waver or change. It remained as friendly as it had been since before Isaac had walked through the front door of Howling at the Moon. Yet there was a subtle shift in the lines of the bar owner's face, a sudden sharpness that one could only see if they were looking for it. Blue eyes glittered with dark amusement at Isaac's boldness.

When Zev moved to shake the younger man's hand, the motion was fluid, casual, nonthreatening. Yet the firmness of his grip was a reminder of the brutality and death Zev had inflicted on others. Isaac did not even know the half of it.

"We'll find a uniform for you soon enough. Wear jeans and a comfortable pair of sneakers, at least," Zev replied, his affable smile terrifying by virtue of the knowledge of what lurked beneath. "And you'll find out everything else tomorrow when you get here."

He let go of the boy's hand. "Enjoy the rest of your night in the meantime, Isaac."

Isaac Merlo

NOTES
+ Social