#wingsofdogma

@wingsofdogma liked for a starter.

Noctis knew that he was being stupid. His father, Cor, Ignis and...well, just about everyone would tan his hide if they knew he was out in the streets of Insomnia by himself. Especially that late at night. He was never by himself though. He always had some guard with him. At least with Gladio he could pretend he was just hanging out with a friend, but it was still suffocating.

"help. rhys. i'm dying." each word is punctuated by mira sinking a liiiittle closer to the floor. it feels like they've been stuck in the studio for a lifetime, recording and re-recording and mixing and waiting and drinking nothing but lemon water. how can the line between a dream come true and an absolute nightmare be so thin? "we're at least halfway done with my stuff, right?"

Genesis had been under the plate, supervised so to speak, by a couple SOLDIERs showing them the city in hopes of snagging a new materia expert -- as a technician, was all he could think, but honestly if he ended up working with anyone it was going to be either Directors Tuesti or Scarlet. Neither had made offers yet, but they'd laid ground for it.

It was a lot and right now all he was looking for good music, a good drink, and good company if he could swing it.

Honeybee, no matter how fabulous and admittedly gorgeous the staff, was not quite what he wanted tonight. What he wanted...

[Ah to be a young man with no obligations until next semester, surrounded by beauty and firmly bisexual...]

Genesis shook his head as it to dislodge his thoughts (it didn't) and absently toyed on his spinner ring. He picked up a strain of music that made him smile and drifted towards it. Pale blue eyes skimmed for a name and --

The Golden Dragonfly.

-- well now. Inviting. Genesis rolled his shoulders, tucked his necklace with its three baby materia under the worn-soft, dark blue shirt. There was no defining line in the silhouette between how it clung to his torso and his painted on jeans and he felt that was good enough without specific intentions.

Confident in himself, he entered.

Mystery snorted at the remark. His voice kept low in a growl, "They deserve it."

Genesis raised his chin. It seemed like a defiant little act — or a pompous one, to look down his nose at the other man. In reality he was doing the exact same thing. Attempting to get a read of the man in front of him.

He gave a slow cant of his head, his long bladed earring catching in the light as he regarded the proprietor. Rhys hadn't asked him for the world. He had a band fall through, Genesis had played a couple times at the Gold Dragonfly, it was only natural he attempted to fill the open slot at such late notice with talent he already knew.

Still, Genesis exhaled a breath at the friendly offer. "... if you cover the cost of the ticket that I won't be able to refund, and provide room and board until Monday, then I will sing like a canary."

Rhys always knew what was best. Or at least according to Zoey. She had been to countless other specialists before. Some that could channel auras. Others could read the future, though it was taking a lot of time for the future to come true.

"Soooo~" Zoey elongated her word until she was practically sustaining a note. As the trained rapper, she was the weakest vocalist in HUNTR/X. "How are the vibes today?"

"Oh?" She holds her palms in the air in mock surrender. A small smirk plays at the corners of her dark lips. She had traced hints of Cetra ancestry reports that led her to Rhys, and she had been hanging around his club to see if she could discern the truth.

Did his skin crawl at the mere presence of her pathology? Did that warrant his reaction? Being so close to the same cells that destroyed the civilization of his ancestors. Or, did he merely recognize who she was? The face of ShinRa Science Department. Often speaking for the public in lieu of Hojo, plastered on the ads and magazine articles. A ShinRa exec who stood in his territory.

"My dear.." She touches a hand to her chest. "I merely came for a drink. Can't a lady get one around here?" She asks with a chuckle. "That electric blue lemonade looks awfully enticing.." She says with a bite upon her lip.

Folk horror || Accepting

"I can only help those who want it."

Michael says it rather simply, tilting their head as they look down at Rhys. This is not such an uncommon thing with mortals, especially those raised in the beliefs of Th'Almighty. It seems more common, however, that mortals use the loving light of the Creator for all the wrong reasons. Then, Michael wonders, how could anyone be angry when someone turns away from the guiding hand? It is often useless to try and bring people back. It brings about more resistance, in the end.