GLIESE: get up to highjinks.
This isnāt your usual kind of place at all, from the trying-too-hard plush rugs (probably have to rigorously cleaned by drones every day after all the idiots who vomit expensive wine on them) to the fucking chandeliers overhead cycling through rave colors.
Itās tacky as fuck, but at least here there arenāt a million suspicious warm gazes on you, waiting for you to try to arrest them or some shit. Itās one thing you definitely donāt miss about Mina.
Here youāre thoroughly normal, which is jarring in how wrong it feels.Ā
Nobody gives a cobalt - fine, cuspy cerulean - a second look, even one with eyes like yours. Youāre not the only one with psi eyes, even if it isnāt common; thereās one or two other ceruleans with them, and you saw an indigo whose oculars flashed green and purple.
Thereās even a few seadwellers, and from your seat at the bar you see one with hair that looks itās on the run from the fashion policeradicators trying to flirt with a bored-looking cobalt who has a head on him.
Weird. Usually fish donāt run as short as you.Ā
He smiles, and gestures, clearly trying to lead the cobalt back to the bar to buy them a drink, but by the time the pair of them are within a few feet of you, she stops rigid.
āHey.ā She says, ears pricking up as she tosses her horns, and then pokes him the chest.Ā āYouāre that Prince shitbag! You think you can get me into bed? What, going to try to pap me while we fuck? I donāt think so!ā
Sheās so fucking loud, and itās going right down into your soundsponges, sharp enough to make you grind your fangs.
So you get off your seat, get behind her, and hit her very precisely in the head with your palm so that her thinkpan slams against her brain and she goes down like a sack of bricks. Some trolls mutter with annoyance and draw back, but hey, security can bite you: itās not like you were making as much of a scene as she did.
You spare a baleful look for the fin-face.
āGonna cause more problems, or can I actually enjoy my gin in peace?ā