<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">Vasyli took in his surroundings, not anything he would have sought out under normal circumstances. Dingier than what he was used to.. but perhaps not so bad. There was a warm sort of atmosphere to it, and it was lowkey, not overly crowded. Vasyli could tolerate it on that alone, and Kevice seemed familiar enough. <br/>
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“I will meet you up there,” Vasyli told him, giving him chance to do as he pleased while he tried to decide what sort of alcohol they might serve. After Kevice, the elf sat talking with the owner, listening to him describe the sort of underground fruit-based liquor they produced. It was a dirty, unrefined sort of alcohol, but one Vasyli himself didn't mind. He purchased a decanter of it, where a syrup was added to cut some of the harshness. It was a mix of sour, sweet, and bitter, tinted pale green. Two small tin cups were handed over, stacked, and set over the top of the open decanter for ease of carrying. Vasyli brought it up with him to join Kevice, easily found, sitting the drink meant to share on the edge of the table, away from the lantern. <br/>
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Vasyli regarded the well-worn cushions, trying to decide if they were clean enough for his taste, but opted not to make a big deal of it. He looked to the centerpiece on the table but poured himself a drink to sip first, his much more comfortable habit. Suitable, he decided, and a great deal stronger than the wine. He noticed the way out to the balcony, should the scent and smoke become too cloying for his sensibilities. He could only tolerate so much assaulting him at once, but it seemed a tolerable balance so far. <br/>
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“So these are the sort of places the great Kevice escapes off to. I can hardly see why Mathis disapproves,” Vasyli commented, his voice lightly sarcastic. With the performance tomorrow this was all gearing up to be a bad idea, with the elf comfortable enough to prove adaptable. <br/>
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“You grew up around humans, in a mixed sort of city?” Vasyli questioned, settling in and drawing it back to the topics from earlier. Probably in the sort of cities Mathis chose to avoid for their empty pockets and higher rates of crime if he could guess by the way Kevice had described it. Vasyli supposed that made sense with cultures starting to mix and blur together with his generation. Kevice was younger than he was, after all. He took a swallow of his drink.<br/>
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“What does that really make you then? I've honestly not been able to pick up on similarities between you and my own people, even across cultures.” Of course, Vasyli had grown up in the arts, privileged, back when elven society could afford it's more lavish entertainment. He didn't know what Kevice was, or if he was human-raised, or about his elven side. It was likely what made it hard for Vasyli to relate to the other man, despite him being the closest thing to him within the circus. They were still leagues apart, though Vasyli was putting forth an effort to try and understand, as well as sate some of his own curiosity.</span></span>