[ Tipping his head to indicate Owen should follow, he acquires the main couch near the hearth and puts his boots up on the edge of a chunky coffee-table. Loki's armoured gear and helm dissolves into a comfy hoodie and jeans, hair raked back when it falls into curtains around his eyes. ]

Upstairs are private curtained booths and the bar is free; like the ground-floor except it's a party for my friends on me. It's a little swankier.

[ One of the staff walks over with two beers, one for Loki and his guest, since the owner walking into Trixie has not gone unnoticed. He takes his and sips, playful eyes glittering at Owen. ]

I suppose I'll let your tab slide today, too.