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

[dishevelment]

No, the shop will be closed by that point.

[He shrugged, seemingly helpless.]

Even us rock stars can't avoid weekend business hours!

[wounds]

It can't possibly take that long.

[But he won't really attempt to stop Koumei if he wants to follow.]

[dishevelment]

It'll be closed if I don't leave now!

[And thus he continues to follow Genos out of HQ, ostensibly to go pick up an item at a shop on the other side of town.

There was no reason to admit his worry for the younger man. Not yet.]

[wounds]

Your choice.

[He'll shrug and just let him follow.

Genos trudges down a few blocks to a close bar, shoves his glasses up and orders a shot.]

[dishevelment]

[Koumei will wander briefly into the shop next to the bar for a few moments, just long enough to buy a little something silly to give as a gift for the season, before popping into the bar. After ordering his drink-- a rum and coke-- he slides into a seat next to Genos?]

Hitting the hard stuff already? It takes some serious problems to bring a person to this point so early in the evening.

[wounds]

[He's briefly confused when he sees Koumei slide next to him. But whatever, it's fine.

...

It's probably fine.]

It's one shot, it's not going to kill me.

[It doesn't really do anything for him.]

What kind of problems do you usually see?

[dishevelment]

Work frustrations. Marital problems. The kind of things that can eat a man alive on the inside, and the kind of things that no one would see until it's too late.

[He sipped idly on his drink, and leaned back in his seat to admire the view from the bar. Koumei wouldn't pressure Genos into saying anything, but he also wanted to make his presence amply clear in case the young man decided he wanted to talk.]

[wounds]

I'm not married and work is just fine.

[He takes his shot.

He appreciates the gesture, but he's not going to talk in public.]

[dishevelment]

[And that was totally understandable. Koumei felt the same, in many respects.]

Hm. Well, whatever it is, it must be serious.

[wounds]

[He fiddles with his sunglasses for a moment.]

It's not... bad? I don't think it's bad.

[dishevelment]

You don't?

[Koumei cast him a curious look, waiting for him to elaborate.]

[wounds]

It's weird but... it doesn't feel wrong.

[He'll scowl at the table.

It does but it doesn't. In this state he thinks the eyes are weird, wrong, he shouldn't have them.

But he also thinks his skin is weird, wrong and he shouldn't have it.

So he's left in the unfortunate position of not really knowing what he should look like or be.]

[dishevelment]

Like something from a long forgotten dream?

[It was the best analogy Koumei could come up with-- and a common thread among his observations so far...]

[wounds]

I don't know if dream is the right word.

... But maybe it's something I forgot.

[That feels right.]

[dishevelment]

[Koumei nodded quietly, understanding that sentiment in it's entirety. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a simple business card with his contact information on it and slid it across the bar, so that it was within Genos' reach.]

Those feelings are more common than you think. If you want to talk about things more privately, I'll understand. Feel free to contact me any time.

--And I do mean 'any time.' I don't sleep through the night more often than not.

[He chuckled softly in bitter amusement. It used to be a standard case of work-induced insomnia that kept him awake. But...now?

It was uncertainty about his own dreams.]

[wounds]

[He'll take the business card- since when could he see all these details in cards?]

Having trouble sleeping?

[At least he doesn't have trouble with that, whatever else is going on with him.]

[dishevelment]

Weird dreams that don't quite feel like dreams.

[Koumei shrugged nonchalantly, sipping more on his drink while Genos studied the card. The young man could interpret those words however he wished.]