Isabelle smirked as she listened to the bartender. The new customer did indeed seemed in need of something to kill it's depression. Well, there were always hard time in the business of the killing...
She thought about talking to the man to ease his distress, but restrained herself - nah, she wasn't playing moral officer tonight. Especially to someone she didn't even knew.
She kept drinking silently, watching without much interest the racing that was now ending in Connecticut. One of the craft crashed in a race ring, causing spectators and commentators to yell in fear for the pilot's life...