Conor couldn't help but feel like the fly stepping into the spider's parlor, but he went inside all the same. The interior was sumptuous, as he'd expected, dark on dark and with a little touch of elegance thrown in. Just to keep things interesting.
He rolled his eyes, because that deserved no less. "Depends what you've got," he answered. Conor's own Irish accent had all but settled into his bones, he'd only left Ireland and the UK behind a little over a year ago. It tended to thicken and garble his words when he was stressed, but so far, it was nothing more than a charming lilt to his speech. Only time would tell if that would change over the course of the evening.