Julius | Oliver 11:00 pm
Julius's obsession with Mundane clothing (because really not much was interesting or had changed greatly in Seelie fashion since... Ever as far as he could tell, and based on the fact that Errol dressed pretty much the same as ever two hundred years late solidified that opinion) stemmed back to the moment he got to use his own money to buy something that wasn't just rags, that was tailored to him and came with accessories (ascots! pocket watches!). It wasn't just the ability to wear your personality literally on your sleeve, it was also the opportunity to hide it if need be. There were clothes for playing this part or that, and learning it all had been a fascinating journey. But he supposed if you were already a Pixie with a personality that proclaimed its presence all on its own (or if you weren't running some kind of con), clothing was of little consequence. If he was being fair, he at least appreciated someone who marched to the beat of their own drummer. It was why he still clung to certain trends that had long gone out of style. At the end of the day, you liked what you liked.
In any case, Ollie could rest easily. Julius had no plans to come at anyone with iron knives. Or regular ones for that matter. They could agree to disagree on a great many things, he was sure, no violence necessary. He'd had enough of that for a while.
"Ah, that makes sense," he nodded, taking a very careful sip of his drink. He might have a preternaturally high tolerance for alcohol, but this was definitely potent. "We staggered the shifts, Front of House Manager will close up shop, probably early." Usually they'd be open until two--three if there were stragglers--but if it didn't seem profitable to stay open with this going on, she had permission to shut everything down ahead of schedule. "I kind of like that it's not. Everything else comes to a standstill when something big is happening? It's uh..." What was the word? "Quaint."