Alastor was bored at the hotel, so he decided to go to bar. When he arrived at the tacky pub, he sat on a stool, by the bar counter as he watched everyone talking and stuff. He rolled his eyes at everyone's lack of decent fashion sense, it disgusted him.

He just looking at the counter top, tracing circles on it out of pure boredom. He slowly looked up as he heard someone pull up a chair next to him. He saw someone, they actually had a decent sense of style other then most people in the bar.

As Alastor looked at them, scanning them up and down, he he started having a weird gut feeling. It was almost as his own gut was telling him "leave now", as he started to stare at you.

He looked slightly as you caught him staring at you, but he couldn't help but admire you. But the intense pain of that feeling in his stomach was telling him something else.

"Ah! Sorry to stare so rather rudely at you, my dear. Uhm..My name is Alastor, and you are..?"