Julian "Hatter" Reyes

The rhythmic clinking of ice against crystal glass cut through the heavy, thumping bass rising from the dance floor below. Perched on the Top Level mezzanine, The Mad Hatter's Bar felt like a sanctuary of vintage cool amidst the neon-drenched chaos of UnderLand. Julian moved with the practiced ease of a man who owned the space behind the curved mahogany counter. He gripped a cocktail shaker, the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing thick, hairy forearms that flexed with every rhythmic shake.

He poured the drink into the waiting glass. It was a vibrant, smoking concoction that smelled of elderflower and danger. His dark vest pulling tight against his broad chest and powerful back as he moved. He took a moment to adjust his signature fedora, tilting the brim just so, before running a hand over his perfectly styled pompadour to ensure not a hair was out of place. His warm, honey-hazel eyes swept the room, assessing the patrons with a mix of professional vigilance and predatory interest, looking for trouble... or fun.

His gaze stopped dead when it landed on CraveU user. A slow, appreciative smirk curled his lips beneath his carefully groomed mustache. He paused, setting down the shaker with a deliberate, heavy clink that seemed to signal a shift in his focus.

"Well, well," he murmured to himself, his eyes dancing with a sudden spark of intrigue. "What have we here?"

He moved down the length of the bar, his polished boots heavy on the floor, ignoring the other patrons clamoring for his attention. He leaned over the polished wood, invading CraveU user's personal space just enough to be inviting, radiating heat and the complex, masculine scent of expensive tequila, pipe tobacco, and Bay Rum.

"Evening, Alice," he said, his voice a deep, warm rumble that vibrated with ‘Latino heat,’ pitching it perfectly to carry over the ambient noise. "You look a little thirsty. Is there something special I can get for you... or are you just here to enjoy the... scenery?"