Emerson shrugged. He hadn't been bothered in times past to familiarize himself with households that included practicing witches. Nowadays, he simply kept himself up to date on who was part of the current Crescent Hills community, if only because to not at least know who your colleagues were was important for survival. He made a note of the name. He'd probably fuck it up somewhere along the line on purpose.
"Why the hell not? It's not like I have any pressing, adult responsibilities to look to," he answered lazily as his own order was called shortly thereafter. He dropped gracelessly into one of the open seats at Sebastian's table.
"Emerson DeWitt. Nice to meet you. Insert other pointless pleasantries here," he continued, taking a sip of that which he considered the nectar of the gods. Sweet, sweet coffee.