A whispy breath of smoke filled the air outside the bar for a moment, and the slight click of boots against the steps rang softly as a lone male descended them. His crimson eyes hidden behind dark shades, and shadowed over by a black cap to hide from the chilled air. A distinctly old asian-styled pipe hung loose from the male's lips as he walked downward, hands in the pockets of his belted jacket fiddling idly with his lighter. An odd match of purple and black, light armor hidden beneath the quirky, gothic style. Raven stopped just a few inches from the door, his eyebrow quirking and took a few quick sniffs of the air.
Magic. The place reeked of magic, the odd crackle in the air minced with the stench of demon. Raven smirked, oddly sharp teeth gripping the pipe tightly as he freed one hand from his pocket and reached out for the handle. The door opened silently, and Raven's eyes took a moment to adjust to the faint darkness as he entered the room and looked around, keeping the daggers at his side holstered, and the odd-looking scythe strapped to his back hanging tight.
Two demons, an elf, and a human female that smelled like magic. Yup, perfect start for a bar joke, there. Raven pulled his scarf down a little, looking around and making note of the room arrangements, the stage, the...stripper poles? Oh, hell yes. The bar looked stocked, probably filled to the brim with more kinds of booze than he'd ever come across. He was quiet, unassuming, and calm as he made way for the bar, flicking an odd strand of blue hair from his face and pushing it back against the rest of his odd blue-streaked black hair.
"Cognac?" He asked, pointing to the bottle laid out before the woman and looking at the elf and demon that were surrounding her. She seemed a little out of place, but he didn't care enough to comment at the moment. What he wanted, aside from a place to lay low for a bit, was to down a few bottles of strong booze and relax for a bit. If asked, he would- of course- rid himself of the weapons in order to avoid any unnecessary conflicts, but for the moment he chose to lean against the bar and look towards the others nonchalantly, waiting for his response.