Vision is such a peculiar thing. Of course by proxy, so is being watched. It's the occupying of space in another's mind, chemically and physically. The rods and cones in the eyes send information to the brain and...well, ultimately, the observer takes a bit of their targets essence and creates a temporary representation in the brain. That representation becomes permanent the longer they observe, and the more essence they snag. Although normal people wouldn't notice such things, Joli had learned to feel it through incredible trial...or in other words, he was taught by his mother! And surely, he wasn't the only one that had learned that skill in a city with so much hate.

All this makes its way through Joli's mind as he orders his drink, feeling several pairs of eyes sucking information from his essence. Shortly after he pays, the teller returns, he grabs the warm drink out of the cashier's hand --a simple black coffee-- and he turns to seek a seat. Of no surprise, there are barely any chairs remaining in one of the few cafes still open this morning, but he does notice a table with just one girl. Joli isn't normally one for socializing, but the festival [I]is[/I] tonight; it seems like a good idea to make at least one person's acquaintance.

Joli walks over to the table, noticing as he gets closer the large amount of purple hair the young girl possesses. She also seems to be around his age, which makes Joli feel a bit more comfortable. After all, if there is one chink in his armor, it's that his mother only cares about fighting, and has never taught him how to speak to a woman:

"May I sit here?"