It's hilarious (in the ways that it's not) how easily Cillian can tell when someone's been drinking. There is something universal about it, the way the voice goes, the eyes, the way her hands almost-not-quite fumble what they're doing for a moment before they find their place again.

Her offer makes his eyebrows jump, though not in a shocked way, and he shakes his head. "I prefer my inkings sterile, but cheers." A step closer, though if he's looking at her, it's a brief eyeflick cataloguing those injuries before it's back to the wrist again.

"You know those're permanent, yeah?"