Shepard draws her mouth into a thin line and narrows her eyes. By the time he releases her, she practically throws her hand up and back at him but it's with calculated force that demonstrates she knows exactly what she's doing. And then everything smooths back into pleasant curves and soft edges. She splays her hands flat across the wood and drums her fingers thoughtfully.

"A genuine apocalypse huh?" It would sound like a wonder if it weren't such a tired subject for her already. She knows first hand that all fearing the reaper got you was dead. So she looks back. And she doesn't flinch. Even his threats ring with a kind of familiarity that does more to invigorate than startle her. Because there's been no evidence to indicate that the demons of their worlds had followed them here as of yet but he can sit next to her and prophesy all the same. What did that say about him?

"You're not the only one." Palming the bar once more for effect, she pushes her chair out, but not before swiping at the half empty bottle of tequila. Just because she knew how to play, didn't mean she found it any less bullshit. "Save it for someone who forgot their spine."