It was funny, wasn't it, how it was always the most mundane remarks that shocked people. Ishmael couldn't help but chuckle at the expression on the poor bloke's face. It was presumably a lot to deal with, he supposed, breaking hands, losing a few pints of blood and making friends all in a night. But what was life without a little spontaneity, a surprise or two?

The Augurey Beak - it struck a note of recognition in Ishmael's head, not merely from passing it by from his London prowling, in fact, but from Monty. Wasn't that a haunt of his, and of the ragtag bunch of activists he liked to heckle from time to time? (Ishmael didn't know much about it, only found the irony funny, Montgomery Morales there among do-gooders like a smirking cat among the pigeons.) "I know the place," Ishmael declared, eyeing Beasley casually again, as if to discern for signs that he was trying to pass off a lie. He didn't think so: Beasley had, after all, offered himself up willingly.

That was settled, then. Ishmael patted the man cheekily on the shoulder in parting, and then stepped away. "I'll see you for another drink sometime," he said with a merry smirk, before he drifted off down the street and into the night.

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