Marc held up the rag in his hand and considered the option of ringing his hair out with it. In a swift motion, Marc bent his head and wrapped the towel around it before coming back up with the hand towel on his head like a makeshift turban. “How do I look?” He asked the man behind the bar with a wink. Ridiculous was the only answer he expected but he’d accept anything the other man said.
Water wasn’t so much an issue for Marc, considering he had grown up on an island. He lived in the ocean, breathed saltwater. It was in his blood as much as it was on his clothing right now. He wasn’t a water witch, but he felt right at home in it. The electricity in the air, though, the lightning that followed the thunder set his hair on end and made the magic in his veins sing.
He took a seat across from the guy and awaited his drink. “You might be right about that. This is only my second time into the joint. Every time is a learning experience, though.” He liked that he never knew what to expect out of this place. As a seer, not expecting something made life exciting. He had found a place in the world where not everything made sense and he loved it. Marc was the kind of guy to enjoy just about every aspect of life, but not being able to predict it was the best part.
He took the drink from his new friend and raised it in salute before taking a drink. The warmth of the alcohol and the deep richness of the hops and coffee that mingled together for the Guinness. “Name’s Marc. I do live in Algiers, but I’m an ENT so you could have seen me around other places. I don’t think you’ve been in my rig, though. I’d remember you.”
Mathis snorted at the stranger’s question, appraising his look, “Nice. Very nice. Fresh as a daisy.” Or, you know. Like a drowned rat, though the image didn’t really do anything to diminish Marcus’ charm. He was friendly, charismatic, and clearly had a sense of humor. His size made him a little intimidating - in a bar fight against most anybody else, the Savoie would almost definitely put his money on him - but he also seemed like the kind of guy you could tell all your crazy problems to and he’d listen quietly and then give great advice.
Long story short, he’d made an incredible first impression, and privately Mathis could admit just how interested he would be if he only happened to be single. Of course he’d been off the market for years now, but while he was committed, he wasn’t dead (and only a little bit blind). Even knowing how inappropriate it was on both personal and professional levels, he still caught himself staring at Marc as the man picked up his beer and took a drink. It took a concerted effort to remember where they’d been in their conversation, and to politely look away.
Grabbing a bar rag, he busied himself with wiping down the nearby counter, “Well, we try to keep it pretty boring around here. I’d say sometimes we even succeed. Tonight’s been quiet, but-” He glanced towards the clock on the wall. “It’s still early.” His lips twitched with a small, cryptic smile that, unbeknownst to him, probably made Marc love this place all the more. The paramedic was absolutely right to think there was more here than met the eye, and if he kept winning over the right people, maybe he’d get the chance to learn why.
“It’s nice to meet you, Marc. My name’s Mathis. I’m the bar manager, so… Basically I keep the lights on when Laslow’s not home.” That was a small joke between the pair of them - that they were both here so often, they might as well forward their mail. The Savoie’s actual residence was on Algiers, however, and his whole face lit up as he realized he’d actually been onto something, “No, I think that’s it. I live near the point. I thought I’d seen you before. Not in an ambulance, either. Not that I haven’t done dumb shit. Just-” He grinned, “Nothing lately.”
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