Common drinks and strange acquaintances

I R I S Iris considered the Fae for a moment. Then, her forefinger beckoned her closer as she bent over the table, voice shifting to a low whisper. "The last time I questioned my father's decision he hit me so hard I spun around full circle." She leaned back, expression as jovial as it was a minute ago, with the slightest hint of stubborn bitterness that would fade as thoughts were diverted. Once again, she noticed a familiar scrawny silhouette taking a seat at the table beside hers, but gave no indication of having noticed him. Iris considered pointing out how lucky the Fae was, but concluded she was unlikely to share in the sentiment. "May Mort grant them passage to bountiful shores." Iris raised her mug to toast the dead, but found it light of its contents. "Oh, shit." She caught the mug that reached her from across the table and raised it in silent cheers before taking a sip. "Maybe I can be of assistance once again, then." She stated with a cheeky grin. "What would you like to know?"