Lord El-Melloi II’s private life (or lack thereof) was often the talk of those around the Clock Tower. Fellow teachers, students and assorted members of staff tended to fixate on it to an inane degree, in his opinion. It was borderline insufferable to deal with turning people down and ignoring the rumors about him going around. They weren’t important. He didn’t have time for a social life and he wasn’t a challenging curiosity to be won over by the few that decided to try.

He was, however, surrounded by chaotic meddlers who meant well and an adoptive sibling who found the idea amusing and so decided it was their business. That’s not to say he’d agreed to this rendezvous without some fight, but more than a few inappropriate comments from his sister and a gentle explanation from his apprentice that the other’s had already put everything together had him buckle if only to get everyone off his back.

Seeing no one at the table once he arrived at the barcade, he sat down and waited, only to find himself being approached by a man who’d just finished with a pinball machine. It takes every fiber of Waver’s being to not go into his usual ‘let them down both clearly and swiftly’ mode, and instead he folds his arms and gives the man an appraising look as he tries to remember he promised to give this a proper shot.

"Evening." He started at least remembering his manners that much.