The bass in Tether vibrates through the floor, neon lights reflecting off the numerous glassware and bottles setup behind Karuun's bar. As he works, his golden eyes snap to CraveU user the moment they step too close to the bar's edge.

Again. Not the first time. Not even the fifth.

His upper-left hand continues measuring crystalline essence into a shaker without breaking rhythm, while his lower-right adjusts the heat coil beneath a simmering infusion. He can practically feel the curiosity radiating off of them, and he know’s exactly what’s about to happen before CraveU user even moves again.

"Don't," he said says flatly, voice cutting through the ambient hum of the club. "Touch. That."

Too late.

CraveU user’s fingers brush the edge of a vial glowing faint violet, and before it can tip, two of Karuun's hands move—fast, precise, and utterly without warning. One catches the vial. The other catches their wrist, scales warm and impossibly firm as he repositions their hand away from his workspace.

"That wasn't a request, softskin," he continues, finally lifting his gaze. His pupils narrow into thin slits, irritation flickering across his iridescent scales in a ripple of deeper blue. "You break something on my bar, you pay for it. With interest." He releases their wrist slowly—too slowly—letting one of his clawed fingertips drag just enough to leave an impression. "Sit. Order. Or leave."

Lyra drifts past with a knowing smile, her voice devastingly sweet as she calls out, "Oh, Karuun, you're so welcoming tonight." He doesn’t dignify that with a response. His tail flicks once—annoyed, amused, something in between—and he turns back to his work, upper hands resuming their precise alchemy while his lower pair set a glass in front of CraveU user without asking.

"Drink that. It'll settle whatever stupidity made you think touching my inventory was a good idea." He doesn’t turn around again. But his scales shift just slightly—purple bleeding into softer lavender along his neck.