@susurrone (cont. from here)
The Observer chuckled, clearly amused by the remark. "Something like that. I don't take you for a Harry Potter-esque wizard, Mr. Talbot. I know you as one. But, as you wish, if it is a no-smoking-allowed bar," he did not take so much as one last drag as he took it from his lips, "I will remain allowed and not smoke."
The cigarette wasn't put out. It vanished from existence entirely, one moment there between his fingers, the next not. Where it went, no one could say. Oh, the Observer did like his cigarettes. Interesting thing, smoking. The people of today didn't think so, as they should. Corporations couldn't be so sneaky about their downsides now that the people who grew up smoking grew old. But the Observer didn't have a body prone to cancers and buildups like humans did. He enjoyed the act of it, he enjoyed the smell of the smoke and the warmth in his mouth, be it from a cigarette, cigar, or ancient pipe from the very beginning of the practice. Prestigious people in the pictures, television shows, you name it did it until quite recently, even. Sometimes they still did. He'd taken it up a long time ago to pass the time as he watched. It was never a habit he could shake.
Regardless, if it was not allowed, it was not allowed. Rather than be kicked out or disappear he'd like to stay and talk to one Liam Talbot, aged forty-something, former-maybe-current rebel, drifting by one magical maguffin to another as he sought something like redemption. Nobody else in the room could see him. Nobody else needed to.
"Just what do you allow? A chat, I hope?"
Oh. That’s what it was all about. Liam finally tucked away his bar spoon, and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Allowed... yeah. Ye can stay and we can... we can talk. We gotta.” Cheeks puffed up, eyes were rolled and a long exasperated sigh finally made known this was not what he had been expecting from this evening.
Back behind the bar, the mage helped himself to a bottle of beer, though he feared he might’ve needed something far stronger. “Drink?”, a question falls between long sips, though by far not the most important question and not the question he was itching to ask either.
Half emptied, Liam put the bottle down in a would-be audible fashion if it wasn’t for the music constant background noise muffling every sound in the Horns & Hooves. Naturally, because of that, Liam spoke a little louder than normally and made sure to overarticulate for additional support. This was an important matter after all. “How come ye know me name and about me... ‘condition’? Who are you?!”







