Any time he had to show up to Fox's Fancy, Connor couldn't say that it'd be the worst place in the city to dip into, be it for five minutes or five hours. At least there were distractions between the women on stage and the bar, unless he showed up when they were doing a 'men only' night as far as entertainment went that he'd be more than happy to never see. Obviously tonight, he'd made sure that wasn't the case, despite likely only being in the place for a handful of minutes. Car parked out down the street, the witch made his way inside, dressed sharply which was of a fifty-fifty chance, depending whether or not he was 'on duty' to be handling Calpulli business compared to the handful of times when he'd came along in just a typical shirt and jeans. Tonight, it was definitely a nice button down shirt, slacks and a jacket that resonated he was here on Calpulli business, more or less.
Once inside, the man steadily made his way along to take in the area, always one for noting any possible enemies, allies, exits and anything else worth keeping filed away in his head. Considering who he knew was on shift tonight at the bar, it was no real surprise as the man started to come over the moment his eyes fell on Acosta. Glancing off to the main stage as one of the women was being announced and making her way along to the pole, Connor stood there a moment longer then started to make his way over to the bar. He didn't bother taking a seat, though instead settled in between two vacant ones, leaning an arm in on the counter top, and patiently waited to flag Christian with a pair of fingers in a half wave to get his attention. He knew he wouldn't be kept waiting for too long and took another survey of the place.
Once he had, Connor looked him up and down for a moment, as if getting a read on him both in body and in mind, as he was never one to take permission for either one, even when it came to the powers of telepathy. With nothing standing out that might have raised any flags, the witch settled a bit more at ease along the bar and jerked his chin to the bartender slightly. "Scotch, neat."
As the other witch moved about to make his order, Connor watched him with a dark, observant gaze at first and as soon as the glass was placed on the counter, taken into palm, he seemed at ease. "Seen a man come through here earlier tonight? About five-ten, hundred and fifty pounds give or take, light brown hair, brown eyes, tattoo of a bird on his arm?"
The witch took a drink, keeping his eyes directly set on the other man, demeanor entirely cool and collected, though that could all undeniably change depending on the answer that Christian here gave him.