Spectators' Thrill

A man amidst the lively crowd of customers quietly watched everything happening around him. It wasn't live music night, but songs still played through the speakers, filling the air together with the chattering of people and the sounds of beer mugs and bottles and shot glasses clanging together, sliding across surfaces, or even breaking after falling on the floor.

The blond middle aged man had only a few empty bottles of beer as company in his table. From his corner, he was able to see and hear everything, and his eyes easily scanned the whole place. It was quite a lively bar, but Jack has seen too many lively bars in his lifetime that it didn't entertain him anymore. Watching mortals' clumsiness and slip ups always gave him temporary delight, but that feeling had grown more dull recently. He thought it was more fun here since not everyone was human, not everyone was mortal. There were even some who didn't look human at all.

He scanned the whole place one more time. This time, his eyes stopped at another man from the other side of the bar and for some reason glued themselves on this person. There was an unexplainable feeling of curiosity when Jack watched, and since he couldn't name the reason, he grew even more intrigued both at himself and at the man, and before he knew it his eyes no longer watched the entire crowd but only this one man he's never even seen before.
@Boop

The blond middle aged man stretched his neck to one side and to another trying to get a clearer view of this person from the other side of the bar, but the crowd was getting rowdier and rowdier by the second, until just watching from his distance was no longer possible.

So he stood up and slowly made his way to the other side, his eyes never breaking its hold on the young man's view. That was when he noticed something strange; well, it wasn't exactly strange for people, even strangers, to engage in a conversation-- but the man who had caught his interest seemed quite suspicious with the hushed way he talked. This suspicion was further reinforced by the reaction of the man being spoken to.

Jack smirked to himself. He knew what was going on; although not completely, he's more or less gotten the bigger picture. He reached them, and sat beside the person he's been watching, the opposite side from where the other man being provoked was. He was there long enough to hear the end of the conversation.

"It's that guy over there," he interrupted, pointing at a random noisy drunk who was generally irritating to everyone. His accent was German, just as his features were, in this form anyway. "I guess he wants to be the strongest drinker and you're a threat to him."

With that much push and the odd background noise of glass shattering and all, the provoked man finally stood up and threw himself at the poor guy Jack pointed. Even as the fight began and as the bar went wild, Jack stayed in his seat, smiling rather warmly at the young man beside him. "You were trying to do this, right? I guess they are pretty fun to watch, I don't blame you."

"Were you obv..? No, no! Not at all!" The middle aged man laughed without any kind of reservation, but compared to the brawl happening behind them, one would still consider it quiet. He didn't exactly mean to laugh at the question, but he couldn't help expressing his delight now that he and this man beside him were easily warming up to one another. Now, he didn't know why it felt nice and right; there were too many possibilities and he didn't want to bother thinking about them all. So he simply decided to enjoy the moment, without thinking so much.

"I'm sorry for laughing. I'll be honest, I've been watching you from the other side of this place since a while ago."

The fight got a bit too close to them for a moment. The middle aged man was briefly distracted with the need to watch out for glass shards or simply for the two brawling men's weight. It was troublesome, but the energy it caused for the entire pub felt so lively and he had to take a moment to appreciate it all, standing there beside the stool he had initially sat on, facing the crowd.

He sighed in content, before looking at the young man once more and extending his big and square-ish hand. "I'm Johann. In this form, at least."

The angel Jack Touwen winked.

"Indeed, a beautiful and fitting name it is, Revel."

A unicorn, huh? Well, Jack (or Johann) thought, that explains it then-- why, upon entering this establishment, it was almost automatic how his eyes found Revel and stuck on the creature, as if an irresistible force had insisted he kept his eyes on him. Jack nodded slowly as he pondered about this. From the very birth of the universe he had always been independent from anyone else's influence; there were only the rules and laws that bound him, but he was always fully in control of his own will. Being influenced or attracted to others because of some undeniable force wasn't exactly an idea he liked, but it wasn't as though this was the first time it happened, and Jack had already learned long ago that it was okay.

After all, attraction is, usually, a good feeling. It causes one to smile and to feel the small fluttering of the heart.

It's an even better feeling when one knows they can absolutely agree with it.

Jack gave another short laugh. "Your instincts don't lie, and I understand how it's confusing." He wouldn't exactly admit to being an angel right there and then, but he let Revel assume, at least, that he was indeed a holy being. The brawling men were already moving away, and at one point or another the bar owner finally decided to step in between them and kick them out of the place. With the coast clear, although the crowd still won't let the high energy in the air die by continuing to shout and cheer for the fight to go on, Jack took a seat once more and asked the man on the opposite side of the counter for another bottle of beer. Jack received the cold and moist dark bottle almost immediately.

He grinned at Revel. "Do you drink? I personally don't think so-- no offense-- but I was wondering if I could get you something as well." He lightly and carefully shook the bottle in his hand sideways. He chuckled again, straightening his neck to face the bartender that was moving about. "I don't really get drunk. Life's boring, you know, when you can't be dumb and imperfect like humans. The thrill of conflict, of challenge, and of overcoming those and winning-- I don't have that. That's why I mess with people in petty ways instead. Not too petty sometimes, but still relatively harmless."

Jack shrugged. He pursed his lips in attempt to hold any more words that may spill out of them. He was talking too much, at someone he's only just met, too; most people didn't really warm up easily to him when he talked nonstop like that. A swig of beer might do the trick.

"And you?" He turned his head once more, "any story to tell?"