Though mild surprise crossed the barkeep's features - which said something, given all the things someone like Mitchifer might have seen in his time running an establishment like this - but he certainly didn't seem to mind Kallian's bold form of reply. Still, though it fazed him, it was only for a blink of an eye, and as soon as Kallian's attention turned to Kyuui, the barkeep went back to mixing drinks for the round, only murmuring to himself, "Full of surprises..." He did pause, though, to fish the key from his person (keeping it anywhere except on himself was just begging for the kitsune to filch it), tossing it over to Kallian for the dragoness to catch.<br/><br/><br/>The kobold seemed startled to realize how close the baatezu and the neothelid were - right at his table, in fact, starting a bit in his seat at the lounge-singer's words before turning his gaze to them with wide eyes. "Ah... Hello. So it was a blow to the head? It must've been something... Meepo can barely remember what was happening before everything went black..." Looking closer, it was obvious that the kobold, despite his tough hide (for a mortal race) had quite a collection of scars criss-crossing his features. He was, it seemed, not a stranger to being in harm's way. Regardless, Astarotte's spell had worked, in some ways, in Lustiel's favor. The kobold had been so entranced, he hadn't even been aware of who had struck him. He didn't seem particularly bent on mulling it over, either, instead extending a claw first to the devil, then to the neothelid, though he did seem a little intimidated by both. "Meepo am Meepo. Nice to meet you." As they chat, a Serpent Wench waltzes up to the trio to collect their orders for the round. "So, what'll your orders be?"<br/><br/><br/>Despite how intently focused he'd been on the scrolls and tomes earlier, the scholar barely even noticed some of them tumbling to the ground, scattered by the succubus as she descended from the tabletop into his lap. Given the erection straining against his clothes, though, one could hardly blame him, especially with the friction of her ass rubbing against him leaving him throbbing. "Anywhere," he answered at first, the sound emerging from his throat more groan than an actual word. Then, "Both." Well, at least the boy was honest, if perhaps overambitious. "W-wait," he managed, seeming surprised, more by himself than anything else, that he was actually able to find his voice to say something coherent aloud. "Names. I - We should - My name. It's Malchior." It probably wouldn't be difficult at all to get him to answer to Mr. Chewtoy instead, though, if Astarotte so desired to bend his will.