The bartender knew not to meet Ceara's gaze or a quick skip off the side of a cliff might be in his future and he'd be none the wiser to caring or fully knowing what was happening. Ceara's scowl at the bartender simmered down some, Damon distracting her enough to keep the man alive another day. As the bartender slid away again Ceara resumed her attention on Damon as they took to tossing back their drinks. He had a certain air to him that was familiar when it came to others of her species, or rather immortals that had all the time in the world with very little to fear or look forward to, that suave silkiness to his voice to pull you in with still a gaze that let you know he had seen it all and was unimpressed by much. At least he was being respectful in her bar, which was truly all that Ceara cared about, the reputation and standards of her bar.

Ceara's gaze flickered down to his offered hand, a simper of a smile toying at the corner of her mouth as if he were a schoolboy who had just tried to make a pass at her. The purpose of the handshake, its original implementation, was used for knights to show each other that they weren't concealing any weapons and meant no harm to each other. For some reason it had been turned into a classic sign of greeting, common and expected practice which Ceara didn't partake in simply because she didn't trust strangers and couldn't promise she wouldn't in any near future harm them. It was for that reason she didn't return the gesture, nothing strongly personal against Damon, she just didn't know him, hadn't yet developed an opinion on him that would suggest trust or camaraderie. He had given his name though and a name she didn't mind giving back, even some vampires held enough power to a name that they went by false ones but Ceara drew the line there as a name held only as much power as you gave it. "...Ceara...and this is my bar."

One of the girls dancing drew Ceara's attention back over Damon's shoulder, obviously deeming the girl had 'dropped it too low' and enough was enough. The regulars were starting to look offput by the display and that wasn't going to do. "Excuse me." Ceara muttered to Damon as she slid away to the small dancing group. They were only humans, young and naive, but travelers through the town probably on some college field trip. It made it easy for Ceara since none of them knew that she was the owner or of her power, their bodies slowing to a halt, looking over at her when she reached them. It was a little more difficult working her power over more than one individual, taking more concentration, but she had centuries of practice under her belt and their pliant minds made it all the easier. Her hazel eyes were hard, a wicked grin on her face, her mind working through theirs in silence as they stared blankly back. "Mmm...have a good night children." At last she spoke smoothly to them, stepping off to the side as the group of friends blinked back into reality then filtered from the bar.

Ceara glanced over her bar in satisfaction, everything having returned to her standards of upperclass voodoo vibe. She returned to Damon, sliding back onto her seat, quite noticeably less tense now that the trouble had been removed. "As I was saying... I've been living here for a while now, close to fifty years now I suppose, you stop keeping track after a while." Her gaze took a moment to finally really look at Damon, inspecting him up and down, his attire suggesting neither money nor hardship. "So what brings you to my dear Sacrosanct?"

Ceara Hade

Because I could not stop for Death
He kindly stopped for me
The Carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality