His archaic talk sort of made his head hurt, it reminded him of some of man trapped in the movies. Like that one movie... What was it, his mind lapsed to a useless memory, hardly listening to the rest of what was said as he tuned him out. He wore a hoodie pull over with a long sleeve shirt underneath, jeans and nice, but not expensive, casual shoes. Easy to muck around in a fish market in without worrying about having to clean them later. His attire was laid back, bundled against the chilly San Francisco morning air, but not swamped in layers like a tourist or someone unaccustomed to the weather there.
Not scent of cologne wafted off him, at least above the discernible fish smell in the area.
The name of the pub drew him back to the man talking, he lifted a hand to tap his forehead as he thought. "Yeah, man, great place, it's off Jergen's and Montana, new to the area? Tell any cab driver here, they'll get you there." Saluting D'arthur as he tried to make his way by, he hadn't meant to be held up with questions, there was a Selkie to interrogate about a shapeshifter in the area. Tristan's warlock capabilities weren't as refined as Abel's, so he wasn't sensing anything out of the usual with the man.