limitless ( irene x jaehwan )
< @pevrlscent >
the tapping is continuous. a steady pattern she focuses on as her eyes drift over the file-- pictures, names, birthdates; crimes and reasoning all typed across the paper. an arsonist, a petty thief, a bankrobber and a murderer. different roles and types stare back at her-- and irene merely hums as she turns over the page.
red x's mark some faces. with prices pressed over their heads. a reminder of what she's done, what she's gained. a circle around one-- the notes, the question marks. it's an art she's used to-- an art she's learned, crafted and molded to fit to her style since she had been young enough to carry a gun.
"you a mercenary of sorts, miss?"
her eyes flicker up. head tilting to address the bartender. he has a smile on his face, nodding towards her file. lips pursing, she closes it with a sharp movement. she matches the smile with one of her own-- albeit much more tense. her eyes trail, flicker over his features.
"something like that." she offers, glancing away. her fingers drum a rhythm on the paper set, tongue poking against the inside of her cheek. the bartender slides her a drink-- an ordered martini, pretty in color and dainty. it matches her frame, her build. one of her hand move to wrap around it, lifting it up to her mouth to take a small sip. it's bitter, straight to the point. leaves her warm on the inside. her smile curves, softens just a bit. "more money involved. less contracts."
"bounty hunter, then." he chuckles. he nods to the television-- and her eyes follow, watch the wanted posted flicker up; a man, a familiar face. his bounty so high, irene remember's how it felt holding it in her hands. "you that pretty devil who reaped the benefits?"
she pauses, eyes watchful of the man over her glass. setting it down, her eyes move across the bar top. there's few souls; a woman on one end who can't sit still-- draping out of her stool as she sings some awful song. an old man who looks like he's seen too much-- and another, younger man seated a seat away from her, drinking some sort of creamy substance. her nose crinkles up, and she reverts her stare back to the tender.
"perhaps. am i too obvious?" she muses, eyebrow raised. the bartender merely chuckles, shaking his head-- and he's ushered away, helping the woman too drunk for her own good as she topples out of her seat. irene continues to stare forward, then back down to her drink. "pretty devil, huh."
