Silver owls slid along the back of Aivon's hand as he slid a gentle step through the tables of Argothia. Cards were slung by expert dealers, using careful trickery to ploy their patronage into spilling more and more coins onto the table. The shuffling of cards and performance in the midst of it was an art form unfamiliar to the man, yet... the motions were similar to the practiced ones he enjoyed. Those hands of his hovered just shy of a man's waist, the coin purse hanging and open from a belt as those owls found their way against his palm and carefully stowed in his own coin purse.

He backed off, but did not create a large amount of distance, carefully inching out his foot to trip another hapless soul. Two men collided together, and Aivon fought to conceal his laughter as the ruckus ensued. The man he'd stolen from shouted out his lament as Aivon walked away, just as a couple of guards went to resolve the conflict. Three men were dragged away, and it was absolutely none of Aivon's concern as he found his gaze flickering about. There was intention. Already, he'd gotten what he wanted, a bit of financial freedom and some glorious entertainment in the form of a ounce of bedlam.

Now?

He wanted to play. The money meant nothing to him, but the opportunity to play without reaching into his own pocket, the chance to sample the legendary concoctions of the Argothian tincture makers? He wanted nothing more than to indulge. Already, the effects of his phial of opium were dwindling, leaving the man with a desire for more. Rather than the downers of alcohol or opium, he needed a kick. When a beautiful woman carrying a tray made her way past him, he perked his brow, spotting an all-too-familiar concoction among the several.

Henbaaaaaane.

A poison in large doses, it was always a gamble deciding whether or not to imbibe when it was around. But in Argothia? It would be devastating to place's reputation. He opted to trust the woman, taking the phial with a wink cast in her direction before he lifted it to his lips. It was mixed with a wine potion and tickled just the right nerves as it coursed down his throat in large swigs. Just as the man sated his thirst with the daemon's tincture, he caught the flicker of a twirling woman in his periphery.

He followed the site of it, the giggles rising above the voices as he tilted his head just slightly. She was singing and twirling like she held no worries in all the world. Drunk? Aivon chuckled, licking his lips as his gaze followed the enticing curves of her body until he approached. With little idea as who the woman was, he held no reserve for toying with her. Even if he did know, it wouldn't have mattered. She'd garnered his interest and he'd have his curiosity satisfied one way or the other.

Fingers sought to interweave with her extended ones, bringing the both of them slightly closer together as his dark eyes studied the elegant lines of her face. By the look of her, the smoothness of her skin and hands, and the make of her dress, she was most certainly a noble, if not higher still. But, there were no identities in the reverie. As tingles erupted along his wrists and chest, through his face and along the curve of his spine, he flashed the woman a grin. His own chiton was of quality make, smooth linens neither painted nor decorated.

"You seem in need of good company, my lady," he offered easily, his lips curving into an easy smile.