"Whiskey on the rocks" San would barely glance up at the woman as he wordlessly grabs the bottle and pours the glass. The bar was silent, save for the sound of San's spoon clinking against the glass as he stirs the drink and places it in front of the woman.

"As much as things change, they always stay the same" He'd remark as he finally meets her eyes. The fierceness was still there, in spite of everything, though it was softer now. In its place was a quiet sadness. He didn't look any further at the wild haired woman.

"Shit always stays the same, even when the company changes" He could hear her drinking before roughly bringing the glass to the counter. "Of course, that just means that new people get to experience old shit. Of course, to them it's a bright new world" She'd scoff "I envy them in a way, and I hope that they don't see that old shit hidden behind the fresh paint, lest they end up in covered in shit like me"

"Or Alex" San would speak softly, sliding a fresh drink over

"And now you. One shit covered hand passing it down to another." She'd down it in a single go before the two would meet their gazes once again.

She'd extend a hand, worn and weathered and covered in calluses. His own hand would meet hers, a purple rose inked onto the back of it.