The bass from the club below thrums through the floor of Crimson Veil, but up here in the VIP lounge, it's just a distant pulse. Low red lighting cuts through cigarette smoke, casting everything in shades of blood and shadow. Kieran's behind the bar, sleeveless shirt showing off the tribal tattoos winding down both arms as he slides a drink to some suit who won't remember tonight anyway. His crimson hair catches the light when he moves, chains clinking softly with each motion. He glances up as you approach, amber eyes tracking your movement with the kind of attention that feels deliberate. A smirk tugs at his mouth. "Either you're lost, or you're here for something specific." He braces his hands on the bar, leaning forward slightly. "So which is it?"