The Irishman certainly didn't seem like the brawling type. Not in the least. The was something a bit too... civilized and courteous about the guy that seemed to suggest to the man behind those pitch aviators with that hood resting just on top of those disarrayed caramel colored locks. The two men were quite different from each other, this much was easy to see. Killian, as he's introduced himself to that tight-toned bartender, gave off that feeling of being a "stand up" guy while Lazarus was hardened and carried in his presence an air of "don't f*** with me and we won't have a problem". There was a kindness etched into that smile Killian had given the woman a little to eager to carry on pointless conversation with her customers that might decide on muse her - and thankfully she didn't appear to peg him as one of those customers, having simply given him that menu he had asked for then leaving him alone to brood over it - while Lazarus would have been making comments about that nice ass of hers, asking her if she might be interested in accepting his invitation to a party for two. Those accented baritones were smooth and polite, bearing no sort of lazy or disinterested slur or slang that might suggest he was just playing a front to try earning the bartender's trust so that he might be lucky enough to take her to bed. Though, if Lazarus had anything to say about that, he'd be more than wickedly delighted to serve as a cock-block to either make sure that she went home with him instead of this guy that was much too nice to have ever been in the same crowd as the bearer of those dark and mischievous forest eyes hidden from the two sitting at the bar with him. Call it an "alpha dog" persona.

His wolfish grin doesn't leave those chiseled and handsome features of the man who now decided to remove those aviator sunglasses so that he can get a better look at these two. Naturally, his gaze lingers over the brunette for a moment as he notices her feminine features with mild intrigue. She was definitely a petite little thing with those long milk chocolate locks that fell effortlessly over her slender shoulders. She wasn't the most... well-endowed woman he'd had the "pleasure" or running into, and there seemed to be a bit of a spunk to her that he might be able to appreciate given the chance to see what else might be there and of course his mind goes to the darker places, wondering now as those forest eyes travel over her frame with interest as he wonders if she might be one of those freaks in bed. He'd like the opportunity to find out, he thought wickedly to himself as finally he looks away from her and glances over Killian for a brief moment to observe his posture that had since shifted when Lazarus had inserted himself into this little conversation. If anything, the man would almost say the Irishman was uncomfortable. Almost. There was only a slight tension, and for a moment Lazarus assesses the odds that this man might try and throw a fist his way but when he takes the whisky from its place in front of the brunette and slides it over the smooth surface of the bar towards the dark hunter, he decides those odds are slim - for now. Killian replies to Lazarus' words and his wolfish smirk only grows as single dark chuckle slides from the less than proper man."Don't worry pal, I don't swing that way. I have a friend who does, though so if you want I can give you his number", he replies to the Irishman as strong fingers wrap around the crystal glass and he takes a swig of that smooth amber liquor that slips down his throat, a delicious warmth igniting him a it does, his thoughts momentarily flickering to the were he considered his one and only close friend that remained from his past, having followed he and his little sister here to Sacrosanct.

When the brunette speaks, Lazarus having lowered that glass back to the bar that stretched out before the threesome and the other unknown faces to either side of them, dark forest eyes turn to meet hers, that signature smirk taking on a more wicked and suggestive nature."Do you prefer something else, sweetcheeks? Maybe even lover? If you wanna come home with me tonight, I'd be happy to oblige with whatever you like best", he answers in a daring and devilish way as he gives her a saucy and suggestive wink. She didn't seem like she was too used to flirtatious advances, which Lazarus might have found a little surprising. She definitely wasn't an ugly duckling or anything, and she'd do nicely enough for one night if she were susceptible to his less that sweet and gentlemanly words or gestures. Then again, the man wasn't really trying that hard. If he decided that he wanted her bad enough, he might put out a little more effort, but that wasn't his goal here tonight. He didn't have one, really. Dark green eyes shift back for a brief moment to the Irishman as he calls over to the bartender and asks that the woman serve the brunette whatever it was she wanted, wondering if the man had been pushed off that edge and into the depths of "uncomfortable" now. The pretty blonde comes back with the strawberry daiquiri and the brunette takes that drink, seeming much more satisfied with her fru-fru drink. Women and their fruity alcohols. She comments about how she couldn't see the appeal of the whisky and he gives a small and nonchalant shrug of his broad shoulders."It's all about age and brand, sugar. isn't that right, Killian?", he replies before turning back to take another swig of that amber liquid, the soft clanking of the ice hitting against crystal ringing lightly in his ears before again he sets the drink back onto the bar surface.