That kind of selectivity on Kenny’s part left him without a few choice commodities that West Fiore offered, though. Fortunately, in Fiore, those were easy to find elsewhere. In many ways, the town of Oak reminded him of the one that he'd been raised in. Then again, in all of his travels across the region, seeking out the right rarities to plunder and people to gawk at, he'd ghosted through many towns that recalled to him his birthplace. Shadow and sin resembled one another, but in Oak both were lacking.
Kenny didn't frequent any hunt in his quest for a drink and some pockets to pick. It was second nature for him to not stick on anyone's minds. He wasn’t a thief persay, he took when he was in need and gave when he had too much, though mages were fun targets to pick pocket. He had never gotten his hands on anything magical, but he did manage to scrape the bottoms of a few Pockets and come out with some more or less interesting things; Rings, necklaces, watches, even a picture of a loved one or two, but he could never bring himself to keep such things often faking as if the owner had dropped them. The particular pub he'd chosen for his evening's pursuits was on the cleaner side. Every surface was clean no sign of the years of spilled drinks, the air however was heavy, not with smoke, but Tension.
Kenny sat at the bar, carefully selected at the end of the tavern incase anyone were to recognize him, though he wasn’t one to frequent the minds of others, as he was simply a forgettable, dismal little magic less human. Who would find him interesting enough to remember? No body, and he hated that fact. His seat wasn't too conspicuous, nor too obvious on the shaded edges of the pub's central room, Kenny nursed his drink. His brown overcoat was unfastened, his orange bandana pulled under his mouth so it wouldn't get in the way of his glass and his amber eyes surveyed the room absently. There wasn’t anyone of interest in sight so far, not a woman to engage who already wasn’t being talked up, then again considering the location they were all probably mages, and what mage would waste time with a janus-faced power less stranger. None of them.
Kenny was growing tired of watching the groups who filled the pub, he was more nervous about speaking to anyone. He was a foreigner in their land he hadn’t a clue what was on anyone’s mind. What was in their news, and he didn’t have the nerve to casually walk up to a stranger and casually strike up a conversation, well not now anyway. There was the option of pick pocketing someone to strike up an interaction but he knew that none of them had pockets lined with things to truly interest him, which was irksome, but at the same time they were so liquored up and numb that he could probably nick the clothes off their backs and they wouldn't pay any mind. With his time in the pub winding down, Kenny was left with the simple choice of either talking or leaving.
That was when the bell on the door tinkled. Kenny's fiery eyes, strangely luminescent in the shadows he sat in, flicked that way. “Well, look at you..." he muttered to himself at the sight of the stranger.
OOC: Srry it's so long