the heat of day had ebbed to a comforting warmth. with natural light draining away, sunshine lost its bright edge and the colours of many paints, fabrics softened. it was making away for the swift takeover of artificial neons that came with every night. even if nature begged for its shadowy recess, humanity fought bitterly and thus the neon playground known as night city came to be.

guess it had to live up to its namesake. 

eros knew that the nightlife of night city saw many individuals stalking its streets for fun, for pleasure. indeed, it was his busiest time as someone who spun high tales of carnality for a pretty bunch of eddies. lingering near the lengths of lizzie’s bar, more for the premise of protection than anything dancing close to loyalty, eros alongside a small handful of other joytoys were chattering away. chattering about anything and everything, really—ranging from work to daily life, even procuring a bite of advice for their personal problems. eros was so glad he’d made some friends here, even if he was a little weird in wider context.

eros’ lips parted, words forming atop the tip of his tongue, but ... he was quick to pick up on an approaching presence, a foreign presence. first, a side-eye, and secondly an acknowledgement made with a turning body. eros was wearing a thin, pink silken robe with a string pinching his midriff, and a pair of heels which elevated his otherwise meagre height a few hikes. the robe itself was a few steps away from translucent, faintly outlining the lingerie beneath but not quite showcasing them. no, needed to tease a little.

@cybertatted​ said:‘ i never argue. i just explain why i’m right. ’

He cocks a brow, arms crossed over his chest as they stand on the rooftop of the building above Bastian’s clinic, his head canted to the side when he utters those words, having to choke back a SCOFF. Bastian reminded him a LOT of Mama Welles when he first arrived in Night City. Precocious and definitely certain of herself. It was part of what made him admire them both. Though the way he talks he’d learned was far more keen to getting him into trouble than it was keeping him out of it.

“Dunno––you SURE that’s how you wanna phrase that? Cuz as I recall, you’ve been wrong a FEW TIMES haven’t you?”

There’s a few instances that come to mind but he rather enjoyed poking fun at the other man. Bastian was a PASSIONATE person by nature, which usually meant it’d spark some sort of debate the likes of which he’d have to stifle his laughter the whole way through as he comes to terms with the fact that THIS conversation was actually happening.

“ ‘member that time we all went to Lizzie’s bar to celebrate V’s big gig and how successful it was and I bet you that she’d end up bringing one of the Mox’s home for the night? And WHAT was it that you told me?”

He pauses for dramatic effect before speaking quietly with a coy little grin on his face.

“Oh right! You said ‘ Oye, V is a good woman, a respectful woman. She wouldn’t just grab a Mox for the night to celebrate a good gig ’…yeah that’s it. And lo and behold what did she do at the end of the night? Bring home a Mox.”

He laughs a little, poking fun at him as he cants his head to the side with a small grin on his face still present.

“So tell me again what you were saying about ‘explaining why you’re right’?” 

“Hey, hey, you should know better than anyone that your sister is an exception to everything.” Sebastián is quick to defend himself, holding up a hand to stop Vance. Though that night was a bit of a blur, he did vividly remember V proving him wrong. Their little group, him and Vance and Jackie and V, had been sitting at the bar when V had suddenly dipped, muttering that she had to go to the bathroom. As minutes passed by, they debated if she had gotten sick or lost or found a pretty little thing on her way to the bathroom and got distracted. Sebastián had argued the former, but Vance had insisted the latter. 

Unbeknownst to him, when they finally got up to find the lost merc, V was found in the hallway with a Mox and within the hour, they were piled up in a taxi together, going back to V’s apartment while the others were forced to grab another ride. 

“Anyways, that was one time. And, luckily for you and V and all of my other clients, I am right all the other times besides that once.” He chuckles, taking a long drag from his cigarette as his eyes drift over to Vance, trying hard to be too obvious in the way he admired the city lights shining on Vance making him look like some kind of neon angel. He was just barely able to resist the urge to reach out for him and pull him against him. 

concern  on  features  sliding  into  bar  seat  as  large  bun  on  her  head  bounces.  a  simple  raise  of  her  hand  before  a  drink  is  quickly  placed  in  it.  she  is  one  of  few  fixers  that  care,  the  put  herself  into  the  world  to  make  bold  changes  and  even  more  so  put  herself  and  everyone  stuck  here  into  better  positions.  she  actually  cared  deeply  for  the  people  she  hired  and  Vance  was  included  in  that.  something  looked  and  felt  off  the  moment  he  stopped  into  Dreamhouse.  She  tries  not  to  pry  or  be  too  much  when  people  look  like  he  does  so  instead  a  bubbly  giggle  falls  past  her  lips.  Uncomfortable,  much  more  outward  with  her  emotions  than  most  in  Night  City,  it's  obvious  and  painted  on  her  face.  She  hates  seeming  like  she  is  crossing  lines  but  Vance  is  so  hard  to  read.  ❝    Sorry---  Sorry  you.  look  like  shit  I  am  just,  trying  not  to  be  like    ❞  She  spins  in  her  chair  and  looks  at  him  before  opening  her  arms  wildly  spilling  some  of  the  hot  pink  drink  in  her  hand.  ❝    TELL  ME  ALL  YOUR  PROBLEMS  AND  LET  ME  FIX  YOU.  Ya  know,  weird,  that  stuff  but  like---  if  ya  wanna  talk  or  need  a  job  to  get  ya  mind  off  whatever  the  fuck,  I  got  ya.    ❞