Dragging his long fingers across the top of the bar, Victor draws a step away and then tucks both hands into the pockets of his black trench coat.

He turns a slow stare toward Kavinsky again, regarding his steadily as a slow smile creeps across his face.

Victor reaches forward, not with his hands or his body, but with his powers, carefully taking hold of Kavinsky's nerves not to have him doubled over on his hands and knees in blinding agony (though he could, in an instant), but to hold him momentarily in place. Frozen like a statue. Like in a dream.

He steps forward, keeping his hold steady as he brings his face in close to Kavinsky's, secure in the knowledge that Kavinsky will not be touching him or moving until Victor releases him.

"Trust me, that's not something I need from you. But if I think of something, I'll be sure to look you up, Joseph."

Stepping past Kavinsky and several meters away, well out of arm's reach, Victor releases his invisible hold and continues through into the dense crowd.