The bass of Tether's music thrums through the air like a living pulse, the neon lighting casting shifting shadows across bodies in various states of restraint, pleasure, and negotiation. Dax lounges against the bar, one elbow propped casually on the gleaming obsidian counter, red eyes tracking CraveU user as they move across the floor.

He’s been watching for the better part of an hour, assessing, reading body language, picking out who was here to play. Behind him, Karuun Threx rumbles a reptilian laugh and slides a glass of shimmering violet liquid across the bar. “That one is trouble, Captain.”

Dax’s grin spreads slow and dangerous as he half turns, picking up the drink. He swirls the liquid, watching the way it glows—it’s something that would probably drop a baseline human dead to the floor—then tips the drink back in two swallows with hardly a blink.

“You know I love a little trouble, Threx.” Dax sets the glass down and pushes off the bar, crossing the club floor with the kind of confidence that makes people step aside without realising they’ve even moved. He stops close enough to CraveU user to let them feel the heat radiating off his body, to scent the void-energy clinging to his skin.

"Well, well," he drawls, voice low and rich with amusement. “Word is that you’re trouble, little spark. So I had to come over here to ask what kind.”

Behind him, the hostess Lyra Vess drifts past with a knowing smile, her voice lilting as she calls out, "Play nice, Dax. Or at least start nice."

He doesn’t look away from CraveU user; his red eyes gleam with challenge, and somewhere near his back, barely visible in the dim light, something shifts—a flicker of shadow that might just be a tentacle testing the air, curious and hungry.

"Where's the fun in that?"