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Alastor would never be able to explain what had compelled him to step into that establishment in particular.
The tavern was small, unexplainably clean though, and he appreciated that, he swept the place with a smile and unhidden disdain towards the pathetic men groveling and socializing at the tables, nursing a cheap beer or some interesting looking foods. Truthfully, the insides just provided more certainty about why he shouldn't be still standing in there, when it was clear he was far beyond the clientele that frequented the space. Still, the sheer lack of reason made his interest peak, it was… odd of him, to be this enraptured by such clear normalcy and plainness, perhaps the explanation to his dilemma was hidden in plain sight, he probably just needed to stay around a little longer to find it.
Deep in thought, like in a dream, he walked until he found a spot he dimmed suitable, the poor soul occupying it before him made sure to scatter off with whatever snarky commentary they were planning to make the moment they realized who they were planning to bad mouth, lest they intended to end on his list of unsettled businesses. Little preys knew it adequate to keep away from his sight for far too long.
Alastor hummed, dusting off the now free shair and sliding into it, he eyed with mild distaste the half-finished plates and glasses on the table, however, as soon as he had thought of it, like a blur, a figure was already collecting the items, cleaning the stains and residues with a rag. A cheerful welcome reached him soon after and he felt particularly delighted by the clear efficiency and joyous energy radiating from what he finally distinguished as a petite woman, young in appearance and with the curiosity of only one visible eye.
Maybe, his decision of staying around longer hadn't been that misleading.
Before he could set up any kind of conversation, however, the redhead was already lending him a menu of sorts, stating that she shall return in a second to attend to whatever he decided to get, running off with her hands full towards the door of what he assumed to be the kitchen, dumbfounded, he gave another look around, without spotting more figures helping to sort out the amount of customers. How curious, he squinted, before turning to look at the piece of paper in his hands.
Alastor caught mutters and jumbled conversations on his surroundings, the place was bustling with energy despite the bleak aura and heavy atmosphere. He knew for a fact some of the fools around had already spend more than they should by the amount of plattery that continued to pile up on a edge of the tables, but none of them appeared particularly ready to stop, despite the panicked gleam in their eyes, Alastor felt amused by the misery and obvious lack of restraint, and then, somewhat akin to sympathetic when he noticed that every option on the menu felt all kinds of appetizing.
Something in his chest appeared to squeeze itself, feeling out of depth once more. Something was clearly abnormal in this place, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Maybe, he would feel more ready to make his way out after he poured out every bit of money out of his pockets, surely, except…
His grin curled horribly, a speck of danger taking over his hazel eyes as something ugly twisted in his gut. Witchcraft, he realized, strong and treacherous. Most likely. Alastor felt offense attempt to take him over fully, for he was the fool of no ones tricks, and surely he needed to make a lesson of the impertinent imbeciles that had dared to play him, because…
Because…
It was hard to focus.
All around him, the bustle of the crowds had grown quiet, attention being taken away by one figure stepping outside of the very back of the establishment. A man, of dark hair and honey eyes that appeared to swirl and shine unnaturally, mild complexion, stern face, he was truly ordinary, and yet, completely not.
“What are you fuckers looking at?” The hissed words were like a punch to the face, with people flinching or looking away hurriedly, pretending to go back to whatever meaningless yapper they had going on, from time to time, they still stole furtive glances and quiet sighs directed to the man. Who didn’t hide his distaste.
Alastor’s gaze did not waver for a second, though, not for the admonishing call nor for the way his attention was received. Somehow, the desire he felt had become unbearable, demanding him of closeness and unyielding praise, his past ire now forgotten in favor of growing yearning. Wrong and unnatural. Clearly, he was not the only one affected, if the idiot scrambling forward with mumbling and rushed flattery was any other proof, and not for the first time either, if the clutched flowers in his hand was any proof. Alastor thought he should recognize the fool, clearly dressed more fancily than the rest of persons present, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, remember what was his name, not that it really mattered.
The male with honey eyes looked at him with exasperation, cutting off the nonsense of his sentences and refusing to take the bouquet when it was offered to him. His tone was still harsh and aggravated while he threatened to kick the lovestruck man out, with pleads falling on deaf ears and only helping to irk him out further.
From in between them, though, Alastor managed to catch the name of the honey eyed doll. Husk. Weird, but enchanting, surely.
The commotion appeared to make the woman that had attended him to finally burst out of the kitchen, she huffed when she saw who exactly had started the fuzz this time, looking rather displeased. She approached the pair, immediately standing between the both of them and chiding the taller male, when Alastor heard Pentious being used to refer to the fool, he almost recognized the name. After the girl stated that if he continued with the unpleasant antiques, he would be banned definitely from the place, the inventor had finally backed down, clutching the flowers still on his hands and making some hasty excuses and apologies.
He left no longer after, clearly dejected and humiliated.
Alastor smirked, then hummed, it appeared that the young woman was more than a simple employee, as she apologized by the inconvenience caused. An unimpressed glance from the figure behind her stopped anyone who thought about complaining, Alastor felt more enraptured by the second.
He continued to stare as the two exchanged words in hushed tones, with the woman looking sheepish and the man looking at her tiredly but with clear patience and affection on his body language, he finally patted her on the head, prompting her to giggle before she moved to look after her patrons once more. Husk looked up, the tiny curvature on his lips falling once more as he locked eyes with Alastor. A shiver went down his spine and he smirked, thrilled. The man sneered at him before turning around, going to stand behind the counter of what could only be a bar, ignoring him pointedly.
Alastor felt his breath caught and, he decided rather quickly, that he would need to return there, if only to see those honey eyes again.