I know, won't forget

[wounds]

Who: Genos and YOU
What: Dealing with Cyborg eyes!
When: December 6, all day
Where: MANTICORE's penthouse, Pride HQ, various bars
Warnings: Foul language?

>MANTICORE penthouse, 8 am

[Genos has always woken up early. He's not sure why exactly he does, but changing a sleep schedule is a tricky business.

So he wakes up, pads his way over to a bathroom and catches his reflection in the mirror. His eyes are completely different, gold irises instead of blue, and completely black sclera.

Are they glowing?]

WHAT THE FUCK?! 

>Pride HQ, 4 PM

[Eventually he calms down. Eventually he just doesn't want to be in their penthouse. So he grabs a pair of sunglasses and pushes them on.

Except they don't exactly block out the glow of his eyes.

He grits his teeth and just shoves past whoever's in the way of him and getting out of the building.]

Sorry.

[He sounds more distracted and distressed than sorry.] 

>Various bars, throughout the night

[He makes it out onto the streets and he starts hitting up bars. Alcohol does nothing for him, but being out of HQ is comforting.

Except he keeps getting pictures taken, and on any other day he'd be willing to pose for them. But today has been stressful and all he wants is some time alone, which is why he keeps hopping from bar to bar.

And it's dark enough now that the sunglasses look stupid, but if he takes them off he'll have to explain the bright glow of them- which is only barely masked by the glasses in the first place.]

Comments

Bar time

[iitrebel]

[Artolo is trying to drown his own issues in alcohol too, although they're not nearly as pressing as Genos'. As CoT's percussionist, he doesn't really get as much bothering as some of his bandmates do. So he's generally ignored when he goes out like this.]

[This allows him a nice view of something, and he slides up to the blond's side at the bar.]

Hey. Knock knock.

[...Is he really opening like this, jfc]

[wounds]

[It's hard to really see Genos' expression through the aviators, but he doesn't look that amused.]

That's how you start?

[iitrebel]

Shut up and answer the joke, dumbass.

[wounds]

What's in it for me?

[Is he joking? Is he serious?

The world may never know.]

[iitrebel]

It's a surprise.

[And, jackass that he is, Artolo sticks his pierced tongue out and wiggles it.]

[wounds]

Hmm...

[He takes a sip of his drink.]

I'll bite.

Who's there?

[iitrebel]

A bunch of paparazzi leering at you from the corner.

[...This is probably not the pick up line Genos wanted. At all.]

[But true enough, if he decides to look around, there are some suspicious looking jackasses who keep glancing at him from one corner of the bar.]

[wounds]

That's nothing new.

[He'll wave at them. They'll take their pictures.

As long as they don't see his eyes, he'll be just fine.

But he starts getting up to bounce to the next bar.]

[iitrebel]

[Hooked in by bored curiosity, he starts to get up as well.]

Problem all night or all week?

[wounds]

All the time, of course. Just part of the rock star experience.

[There's the noise of snapping cameras. Whatever.

Genos won't stop him from following.]

[iitrebel]

Become a percussionist. No one ever gives a fuck about the guy banging shit in the background.

[Which is a pity, but what the goddamn ever.]

[wounds]

Too late for that now. I'm our frontman.

[iitrebel]

Oh wow!

[Cackling, Artolo smacks him across the arm.]

You're eternally fucked! I'm going to drink for your inevitable death by paparazzi at whatever bar we end up in. [Because he's decided he's tagging along for the night now.]

[wounds]

[Whatever, he'll smack back. THIS IS BONDING, RIGHT?]

Hah, they're going to follow us through all of them. I'm sure.

[iitrebel]

[DEFINITELY bonding. Or something. Artolo seems like he's having a good time, at any rate.]

You know what would lose them, right?

[wounds]

Gonna duck into an alley?

[iitrebel]

I was thinking "motorcycle theft".

[Artolo, no]

[wounds]

Can you hot wire a motorcycle?

[iitrebel]

Do you mean that in a general "is it possible" way, or me, personally, knowing how to hot wire a motorcycle?

[wounds]

You personally. I'd like to lose the trail.

[Who are still following and still taking pictures.

Thought they're trying so hard to hide.]

[iitrebel]

No, but we could just find the owner and hijack the keys from them.

It can't be that hard, right? Keep an eye out for a bike you like the look of and I bet you I'll be able to get the keys.

[wounds]

What are you, a professional pickpocket?

[iitrebel]

You don't have to be a professional to know how to be an asshole who fakes it.

[wounds]

As long as you get the keys I don't care.

[He'll point out a nice shiny silver one with black detailing.]

That one.

[iitrebel]

Alright. [Encouragingly, he smacks Genos' shoulder and detaches from his side.] Be back in a second. Try not to get devoured alive by the paparazzi!

[For a second he can be seen around the outside of the nearest bar the bike is parked in front of, talking with strangers and making gestures to it, before he disappears into it proper. Another five minutes or so and he's hurrying out amidst a lot of yelling. Be sure that he's sending it right back.]

HEY HEY, I said I was sorry! It's not my fault you look like my boyfriend! Live and let live, buddy, damn!

[When he hurries over to Genos, however, he's inspecting a ring of keys taken out from his pocket.]

Okay, so, which of these looks like a motorcycle key to you? I sort of had to be quick.