"No, my life's been pretty chaotic for a bartender..." She didn't think a first meeting needed to include her recounting her exploits as a terrorist or chasing down a genocidal maniac however. Tifa would save that can of worms for another time. Uncomfortable saying much more about herself, the young woman looked over at Logan in the dim lighting. A warm trickle began to flow down her lip again and she quickly turned away to wipe it on her arm. The couch was low enough that she could rest her head back against the soft leather and elevate her face.

"I hope it's not broken..." She had gone at least a good seven years fighting without a break, Tifa going to be pissed if this stupid little institute ruined her streak now. "Anyways..." The last thing she wanted was for him to worry about her face, so she did her best to change the subject. "So what about you? Is this just like one more day in the life of Logan?"