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[attr="class","skullbody"]Zev looked so much like a dad right now that it wasn't even funny.[break][break]

Seriously. Shirt with his favorite bar on it? Check. Khaki shorts? Check. Sneakers that were probably more comfortable than most slippers? Check. All he was missing was a grill slapped in front of him that he could make terrible jokes while perching behind to complete the image.[break][break]

It was such a departure from the sharp-dressed, sharp-witted, and especially sharp-bladed assassin that Isaac had come to know, fear, work with, and against his better judgment respect. But he slipped into the role of warm-hearted barkeep just as easily as he slipped back into being a cold-blooded killer, so who was Isaac to ask questions? If it worked, it worked.[break][break]

And he worked, too. Right now, he worked bottle recovery, because apparently their stock had taken a beating since today started. "After that mid-noon rush? Oh, you better believe we're finding plenty of those," Isaac said, dipping behind the bar to survey the damage. Eesh. A good chunk of these were either gone or on their last legs. Plenty of rum and vodka had been drained, as well as their accompanying mixers, but Isaac was shocked to see enough brave souls were trying whiskey to empty a bottle of that. Seriously? Something like that, in this heat? Well, some people must've just really liked their favorites.[break][break]

It was a fairly easy routine from there. Take a bottle, get some help from a nearby water type to wash any residue out, and lob it in the recycling bin. Luster's Water Gun was perfect for the occasion; the Clamperl was on the smaller side and fairly weak still, so it wouldn't risk breaking the bottles in the process.[break][break]

"I swear. With how hard we've been working, it feels like this festival's been lasting all month," Isaac said. "How've you been spending it? Getting some fresh air for once? Scoring more bar contracts?" Oh, no. That Grin was on Isaac's face. "Going on more of those, what'd you call 'em, 'hot dates?' "

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[attr="class","skullbody"]"Shit, you actually pulled those off?" Isaac asked, quirking an eyebrow at Zev in surprise. Full disclosure, surfing was the last thing he'd expect Zev to pick up in such a quick time. It wasn't that he was physically inept. Zev could probably run circles around Isaac, then bench press him afterwards for good measure. However, Mantine Surfing required both Pokemon and trainer to be in perfect sync, and Zev did not seem the type to let a Pokemon get that close to him.[break][break]

Then again, Zev was an expert at reading people. Isaac liked to think it was one of his strong suits, but Zev was lightyears ahead of him. Perhaps that skill even applied to Pokemon. Just how good of a trainer would Zev be if he applied those talents towards battle and not just murder? "Not bad! That makes two of us."[break][break]

Outside of that, everything seemed surprisingly relaxed. For someone Isaac had gotten to know as Zev the Murder Man, His Personal Sleep Paralysis Demon, Zev was really good at projecting an aura of normalcy. Then again, if you were going to be Zev the Murder Man, you probably wanted as little attention on your nighttime proclivities as possible.[break][break]

"Oh, I've been up to plenty," Isaac said. "Catching up with old friends and meeting new ones. Nabbing as many crowns as I can get my hands on. And maybe, just maybe, giving a special someone a little Splashfest fireworks show of my own."[break][break]

Was this really happening? Was Isaac really about to talk about girls with the man who gave him a fear of death and a heaping spoonful of survivor's guilt?[break][break]

Judging by the coy little smirk on his face, yes. Yes he was. "So. Nenet, huh?" Isaac asked. The tone in his voice made what he wanted all too clear; details, Zev! Details!

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[attr="class","skullbody"]Huh. So that was why Isaac sometimes got glimpses of an incredibly stylish woman coming into the bar to whisk Zev away. Yeah, Isaac should've pieced two and two together sooner. When even Zev's head was turning over someone walking into the room, there was clearly something going on.[break][break]

Between her and the mysterious associate that had helped Isaac with forging documents, Zev's tastes were clearly along extravagant lines. Interesting, for a man who kept his apartment on the simple side. Then again, the man could barely make a grilled cheese with turning it into ta jaw-dropping feat of culinary excellence. So maybe it wasn't too out of character for him?[break][break]

Ugh. Why'd Zev have to be so good at false faces? Isaac was gonna go crazy trying to connect the dots between his various masks.[break][break]

Poor Zev. In the Rocket world, he was a nightmare to be feared. But here, he was at the mercy of his own employees and the rumor mill they fueled. Despite his best efforts to redirect the conversation to Isaac and his date, Cassandra was not about to let the Nenet subject drop. "You gotta give me those deets when we're back," he agreed, voice a low whisper. "Though, c'mon. Blackmail? That really seem like his style to you?"[break][break]

Would Zev have blackmailed someone if he needed to? Oh, without a doubt. But by Zev's standards, that seemed so . . . uncouth? Was that the right word here? He seemed too direct, too proud of his own standard of work, to need to resort to that. No, no, if he was going to storm into a woman's life, he was going to be a consummate professional about it.[break][break]

"I'm gonna go with fake dating gone wrong," Isaac decided, voice a low whisper. "They totally needed to look like they were together, maybe for a function or something. And now they're catching feelings. That's my bet." It was just implausible enough to avoid outing any of Zev's actual nighttime activities, but just juicy enough that Isaac was going to crazy if it was really the case. Wasn't that the best of both worlds?

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[attr="class","skullbody"]Isaac answered Zev's frown with a hapless smile and a little shrug. It was almost charming, in a way. The last time he'd crossed Zev, he had a Seviper's fangs pointed at every part of his jugular. Now, he had Zev glaring and frowning like a big ol' grump. The sense of whiplash was palpable.[break][break]

Nevertheless, he fell in step with his boss, hefting up the bin and following his marching orders. It wasn't a very long walk, but it was long enough. Just long enough, one could argue, for discussing rather secretive business.[break][break]

The immediate question on Zev's mind was far from surprising. After all, when you were a member of the offspring of an organized crime group and an insurgency cell, your dating pool was either very limited or very dangerous. " 'Course she is. You might've seen her around on second shift, even," Isaac said. Naturally, Isaac was talking about his "second shift," his other line of work. However, if Cygne was planning on making good on that promise to woo his boss, then she may have visited on a second shift at the bar to mark her territory.[break][break]

Zev was the unwooable object, and Cygne was a very, very woo-y force. He hoped she hadn't came in while he was out, because man would he love to see that interaction unfolding.[break][break]

"I could ask you the same. But pretty sure you'd slap me upside the head for even implying you'd make a call like that," Isaac joked. Zev was way, way too much of a consummate professional to play that risky. If he wasn't holding all the cards and keeping a few more up his sleeve for good measure, there was something awfully wrong.[break][break]

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[attr="class","skullbody"]Isaac's been went in but a moment after Zev's. It was like clockwork; for all his goofing around, soft-hearted moment of weakness, and weakness for convoluted ideas, Isaac knew how to get a job done. If Zev told him to jump, Isaac asked "how high?" (provided, of course, that Zev wasn't going to slide some poor bastard's face under his feet while he was in midair.)[break][break]

They both knew how to be discrete. Yet, when push came to shove, they were both capable of being surprisingly candid. Isaac quirked an eyebrow in curiosity as Zev mentioned his poor track record. For a guy that had so many stunning women in his life (2 was a lot when you were a creepy murder man!), an admission like that seemed odd.

"I think that's the first time I've ever heard you say you were bad at something," Isaac said. He wasn't an idiot. He knew if Zev admitted a weakness, it wasn't a weakness he deemed important enough to matter. But it was still the first self-proclaimed blemish Isaac had ever seen on a man that tried to appear spotless. "Though I guess that explains the painting you got . . . convinced to hang up, huh?"[break][break]

Yeah. There was 0 chance those two didn't have history.[break][break]

Still, curiosity burned deep in Isaac's mind. The man was so good at appearing gentlemanly and suave that, despite a literal blood-soaked first impression, Isaac found himself getting suckered in whenever his focus lapsed. What could he possibly be doing to blow it like that? "You, uh. Wanna talk about any of it?" he asked. "Not a word of it gets out to the peanut gallery. I swear it on my honor as a guy who spars with you and really, really doesn't want to get choked out tomorrow."

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[attr="class","skullbody"]That was the scowl of a man who was absolutely choking Isaac out tomorrow.[break][break]

A mixture of fear and surprise flashed through Isaac's mind. However, as they passed, a single word remained: Impulses. Such a reaction seemed a little too abrupt, a little too defensive for Zev. His using of others was typically something so matter-of-fact, a simple reality of life. If anything, Isaac figured he'd consider his track record a good one if it was simply a long list of manipulations.[break][break]

Zev was right. Just making baseless assumptions was never a good way to go about things. But sometimes, when you said the right thing at the right time, a baseless assumption could prove itself very, very quickly. How interesting.[break][break]

Isaac wouldn't push the matter, though. Instead, he wiped the shock off his face and returned Zev's reassuring smile with one of his own. "Understood," he said. Was he referring to the earlier snarling accusation, or to the calm, collected order he had just been given? There were layers to every conversation, and words sometimes stretched between both.[break][break]

He watched as Zev lead the way, not even waiting for him to follow. Sometimes, he wondered how much he understood Zev. For as enlightened as he felt about that little display, was it just another show? A threat quickly tossed out so he couldn't poke at a bigger matter? Hell, sometimes Isaac wondered how much Zev understood himself.[break][break]

Did Zev understand him, too? Or did he not even care to?[break][break]

Shit, too much zoning out, not enough hustling. Isaac bounded up to Zev with a few quickened footsteps, then fell right back in step behind him. Maybe it didn't even matter if Zev understood him or not. After all, he was clearly getting what he wanted out of this little arrangement, somehow. He said jump, and Isaac asked how high. He could disagree on methods, poke at his brain, do frustrating and tiresome Isaac things. But in the end, one way or another, he always fell back in step.

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