forum las vegas lights // oxo // closed

Started January 22, 2022 by @larcenistarsonist group

tune

(aksdfj;l thanks I just kinda threw some words up. felix is pretty smart for such a head-empty guy)

Felix actually has to think back trying to remember if he ate. He had some Fruity Pebbles and a large glass of Kool-Aid that morning (Rhyda interrogated him after her pitcher of glorious fruit punch elixir felt lighter; Felix managed to oh-so-suavely weasel his way out of that one with only a minor bit of gaslighting) and then a gas station Twinkie after his 1 o'clock match. The cashier gave him a weird look when Felix handed the kid a Benjamin when all he was buying was a Twinkie, but Felix isn't really the guy to carry around small bills. Big bills mean big status, and by no means is Felix above flaunting some status.

"Please, I didn't do any spy crap ever. I am not a child and I am very capable of being mature, thank you very much." Felix crosses his arms over his chest and tips his chin up. He looks odd considering he's still slouched in the chair with his legs taking up as much room as humanly possible. "So are we doing the microphone thing again or are you just gonna trust me to remember every single tidbit of information I can possibly get off of Helsie and Dane?" He clips his tone towards the end and draws out the vowels. A horn beeps from outside. It's his car. Rhyda's getting impatient.

At first he had no idea what to say except for, "Sure….alrighty then…" His eyes squinted as he observed Herrera. He never knew that it was humanly possible for someone to have their legs spread out like that. Not like he's actually looking or anything. Damian just naturally watches people and their body mannerisms; he swears that's what he is actually doing.

"Let's do the mic thing again, but I am still going to have to rely on you to remember everything. Oka-" He shot up in his seat and looked out his office window. Biting his bottom lip, he shook his head while relaxing back into his seat. "Just go take your roommate wherever she needs to be. We'll talk later."

Damian closed the notebook, carefully placing it back into the correct spot of his drawer. He took a fork full of food and put all of it in his mouth. Chewing quietly, he carefully slid his watch up to check the time. There's still plenty of time before the next game. He swallowed then dabbed his lips with a napkin. "Is there anything else or are we good to go for today?"

The swell of irritation that surfaced when Rhyda honked had subsided by the time Mae asks to meet up later. It's probably smarter like that. For Mae to show up beforehand and get everything ready at Harima's Bar. It'll be less suspicious than the two cars entering together and leaving together. The last thing they need is one of the suspects catching on. Thankfully, the other five enjoy grabbing a drink or hitting the floor after the weekly four deals of poker.

"Alright," Felix stands, the chair slightly scooting back from the unexpected force of the movement. He looks down at Mae in his desk, a smirk crawling on his face when the height difference sets in. "I'll meet you at the bar, darling. Try not to show up at the same time." His smirk grows into a smile, he winks and then he's at the door and out.

He barely even catches anybody's eye as he exits the station. Rhyda complains as he gets into the car. Jackpot is squeaking on her shoulder.

His eyes squinted at Herrera as he tilted his chin slightly up. He isn't completely sure whether or not to question the smirk. Although he is confident in assuming why. And as usual, Damian rolled his eyes at being called "darling". His arms crossed in front of him. "Will do," is all that he says in reply then gives Herrera a wave, watching as the guy leaves his office.

Damian just spent ten minutes sitting by himself in the office again. There is still plenty of time to get to the bar without having both his and Herrera's car come in at the same time. Eventually he did get up, pack whatever he needed into his backpack, then went into his car.

He arrived to the bar parking lot about the same time he did last week. The fact he did so made him feel proud of himself; consistency is a favorite of his. While he was not able to park in the same spot, he found another one on the far left corner. Damian took off his seatbelt then pulled out his notebook, pen, and anything else he would be needing for during the game.

Well, not the game per say, but he knows what he means. In his cup holder, he had a bottle of water and of course, a fruit punch Caprisun.

The entire way to Rhyda's girlfriend's house (that she shares with her four super-macho and jacked older brothers), Felix and Rhyda - per usual - argue about the most obscene topics imaginable. Rhyda's asking Felix if he would ever eat his own flesh. Felix, after nearly barfing, loudly declines. Rhyda continues to press and ask a thousand questions that feel like serious HR violations. Felix tries to turn up the radio and let Ricky Martin's sweet, sweet voice drown out his annoying roommate-slash-best friend, but Rhyda's persistent and it's just a losing battle.

Felix drops her off, watching as Rhyda perfectly navigates the uneven and shifty yard towards the even shiftier porch. Felix hums to himself. Honestly, he's not too convinced Rhyda's as blind as she says she is. When Rhyda's safely inside the house, Felix flips on some dollar-store sunglasses and pulls away from the house. Jackpot squeaks and chitters from the passenger seat. Felix nods along to the ferret's story.

It doesn't take long to pull into the bar's parking lot, and sure enough, Mae's car is waiting in the corner of the lot. Felix parks his metallic sedan in a space beneath a wiry tree and gets out. He ensures his keys are safely in his pocket before snapping at Jackpot to follow. The weasel climbs up Felix's arm and slips beneath the collar of his tan trench coat. With Jackpot safely stowed in his favorite inside pocket, Felix snaps the door shut and makes his way over to Mae's car. With a shit-eating grin on his face and those dollar-store sunglasses over his eyes, he approaches the car and raps twice on the driver side window.

Perhaps Damian arrived at the parking lot a bit early than he should have. Maybe Herrera is late. Regardless, he admits that he is bored. And the worst part is, he just finished his last Caprisun. How will he ever live now? Eh, he will be fine; maybe just more depressed or grumpy now that he doesn't have something sugary.

Even whatever ends he could tie up in the car while waiting isn't enough to satisfy the boredom. Damian stared at the dashboard, hoping for some sort of metaphorical light bulb to go off. Somehow one did. He pulled out his phone and picked a random playlist. The sounds of a bass drum and guitar filled the car.

His therapist recommended this queer pirate show a while back. He watched it four times in a row and now all he does is listen to songs they use in the end of the episodes such as right now. Which one is this again? His mind forgets a lot of details that don't relate to his job. He pulled his phone up from the cup holder to check the song, but is interrupted by someone at the window.

Using his left index finger, he pressed down on the button that rolled his window down. When it goes all the way down he mumbles, "What? Are you here to kiss me or something, idiot?"

Mae, frankly, looks exhausted as he rolls down the window. The crinkled and empty Capri-Sun pouch in the cup holder tells him everything he needs to know about Mae's low-sugar slump.

Felix's grin blows wide at Mae's comment. He slides his sunglasses down his nose to make eye contact and winks. "I mean, if you're offering, darling." He can't say he isn't slightly shocked at the statement, but maybe Felix has had more of an effect on the straight-laced detective than he previously thought. Felix is Las Vegas's most attractive man, for god's sake (self-appointed but the point still stands). Jackpot wiggles in his coat. Felix slaps the pocket without breaking eye contact with the detective.

More regret began to settle within him. Maybe making a lewd comment to someone who's practically a coworker in his case wasn't the best idea. Then again he has seen others at the station do the same thing countless of times. Obviously they don't really know how to do their job, but he digresses.

"I don't want to get distracted during work," He mumbled. Damain covered his mouth as he yawned. Shaking his head, he regretfully looked up at Herrera. The sunlight was bothering him so he turned to pick up his five dollar sunglasses and put them on. He spoke as he put them on. "So are you just going to stand there all day or are you going to say 'goodbye' and walk in there? Time is an important asset."

The regret that instantly crosses Mae's face is enough to cause Felix to break into a quick burst of hysterical laughter. He wipes nonexistent tears away from his golden brown eyes and then stares down at Mae with a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. When Mae puts on the pair of sunglasses, Felix can't help but feel slightly offended. Is he trying to one-up Felix's dollar store sunglasses? Nevertheless, Felix shakes away the slight irritation and puts it away for later. There's a job to do. If Felix wants his record cleared, he has to cooperate.

"Jesus Christ, doll, no need to get snappy at me!" Felix says, pushing away from the car and putting his hands up defensively. "Just seeing if there was anything else you'd need to fill me in on before I go in."

As per usual, his brow arched at Herrera. He is not sure what it is that he did to make the weirdo burst into laughter. The sudden fit of laughter made his shoulders tense up, but he forced them to relax.

Snappy? He's being snappy? It's not the first time he has heard such a comment though. Damian snorted before pulling his shades down. He didn't them down for long. Sunshine kept blaring in his eyes as he stared at Herrera. Clearing his throat, he slid them back up.

"I am not being snappy," He retorted, "I am just being myself, babe." Sitting up in the seat, he took a deep breath. With his right hand, he reach for his notebook then flipped through the notes from last week. "Not anything new. Just do as we talked about last week. Dane, Helsie….maybe try to see if those two have a history with each other. Try to engage and maintain some sort of conversation. Just don't be stupid."

As the detective pulls his sunglasses down, Felix holds eye contact with Mae from behind his shades. Huh, pretty eyes. He stores that information back into his mental file cabinet reserved for the officer. Felix's internal office building looks more like a classy casino and hotel than an actual business office, but it's Felix's own mindscape. If he wants his mental office building to look flashy and slutty and covered in gold, so be it.

Babe? The nicknames must be rubbing off on Mae. Felix chuckles internally. It's only been two weeks and he's already corrupted the straight-laced detective. Helsie, Dane, keep tabs on the others. Yawn, same old, same old.

Felix snaps his fingers. Jackpot wiggles his head out of the collar of Felix's coat. "You got it, darlin'. I'll report back to you as soon as the game's over." He flashes a smile, turns on his heel - flourishing his coat like the dramatic bastard he is - and sashays right to the doors. He shows his ID to the guards, and then enters the dark casino.

There's fifteen minutes until the game begins, but Felix knows that if all six members show up before then, they'll start the first deal regardless of time. Last time he was there, he had arrived right on time, leaving nearly no time to scope out the competition and suspects beforehand. Felix winds his way through the dancefloor, dodging women in minidresses and shirtless men. If he wasn't on a mission, he would love to stay and chat and maybe buy a drink or two for a pretty brunette, but alas, Felix has a job to do.

"Herrera!" A voice calls. Felix turns. Helsie sits on a barstool in a white button-up left open near the top. Shell necklace, silver rings, round reflective sunglasses, slight wince when the bass drops. Hangover. Helsie's hungover. "Get over here!" They wave him over. Felix checks one of his many watches. With a smile, he approaches the blonde. There's time.

Sometimes it is good to pull cards that others use. Damian thought it would be funny to start using nicknames with Herrera, although he isn't really amused by the whole thing. Maybe he should think of some Korean or Spanish ones to use; he'll have to write a reminder on his personal phone for that one.

Yes, he has a personal phone and is getting a work phone. Now he is on the verge of removing his office phone and throwing it out thanks to news journalists and all those idiots. Why can't he go a single day of his investigation without dealing with some sort of….Oh he's getting way in over his head about everything. Anyways…

Nicknames are weird. As per usual, he rolled his eyes at Herrera. He just gave a slight nod and said in a deadpanned manner, "Alright, don't have too much fun, media naranja." Then he rolled up the window and cranked the AC all the way up.

Taking off his sunglasses, he placed them in the cup holder beside him. The time on the board caught his eye. They are early this time. It'd probably be a good idea to always be this early; maybe even earlier if Herrera doesn't protest to it. There are always opportunities in being early.

He wondered what's to come of this one. His expectations are all over the place. As long as another piece of evidence doesn't fall out of one of their sleeves and is covered up with their fingerprints, he should be fine. He should be. Everything should be fine for them.

As it turns out, Helsie is hungover and drunk… somehow. Felix doesn't understand how they could do such a thing with a high-stakes game only ten minutes from now. Deciding to roll with the punches, Felix uses this oppertunitity to his advantage. "So," he starts, swirling his own drink Helsie bought for him. "What were things like before I got here?"

And from there, Felix learns that Crystal Valentine was somewhat-liked. She didn't really cause any issues, kept her head down, rarely stayed after the games to drink with the rest of them. If anything - or at least according to a drunk Helsie - Valentine was a lightweight wet-blanket who usually just dampened the mood with her abstinence towards alcoholic beverages and drugs. Helsie continues on their rant, most of their words slurring together now without much sense. The bartender slides Felix another drink despite his first one not even being half-empty yet.

The song changes. Felix checks his watch. It's time. "Helsie, c'mon-" Felix stands and pulls at the other player's arm. Helsie drains their drink. Felix, deciding why the hell not, knocks back the rest of his first drink. The second one lays untouched on the counter. Oh well, maybe after this match.

The two of them enter the room, Helsie latched onto Felix's arm and babbling about this and that. Blake - the 30-something year-old woman with the undercut - stares at Helsie from her seat closest to the wall. Seat Number One. "Rivers, again?" Blake says, drawling on her tone. "I swear, we talked about this-" The two of them begin to speak, their conversation not holding much importance to Felix. He takes his seat in the third one. Dane takes the seat to his left, Helsie to his right. Clyde and Harima fill in the remaining fifth and sixth seat. The last person to enter is the dealer, just as pretty as Felix remembered her. Sharp eyes, crisp dress, ruby red lips and a dark braid over her shoulder.

Her pointed nails break the plastic wrapping of the card deck. The table goes silent. Hell, Helsie even seemed to sober up as soon as they caught sight of the red-backed cards.

"Let's begin," The dealer says.

Admist the music that was playing through the radio via his aux-cord, it suddenly paused for a second as a ding pierced the air in the car. Damian's hand darted to the cup holder, swiftly grabbing the phone and unlocking it.

It's Paul, his forensics friend and the only guy at the station who he actually enjoys talking to. Previously, Paul was calling him an idiot for not wearing gloves when taking care of the watch to which Damian jokingly replied with the middle finger emoji before asking about the tests.

Nothing. There's nothing. Nothing to look forward to. Nothing to help him get further in this case. He's going to have to spend so much time staying up at night walking around in circles trying to connect paths with nothing.

The reports came up as inconclusive again. He knows they will run more, but he knows everyone else is calling them crazy just as much as they are calling him crazy. Too bad, he is a severely depressed man who has a master's in finding the truth from opening up bodies and staring at blood samples. Now he gets to find the truth using another man to be his eyes and ears.

Throwing his phone onto the passenger's seat, he covered his face with his hands. It doesn't matter if he is smudging the sunglasses; they'll probably break in a hour or so anyhow. Removing his hands, he noticed a sticky note standing out of the corner of his notebook like a sore thumb. The sight of the lime green paper only made him sigh and recline back into the seat.

The four deals end relatively quietly. Felix won a round, folding last minute for two of the other games. Good choice too, granted Harima had a high straight and Clyde a four-of-a-kind. The gorgeous dealer collects their cards, neatly placing them back into the deck before setting them aside for clipping later. Dane's the first to excuse himself from the table, somber look in his eyes. He hadn't won a game that night. Not about to let him get away, Felix quickly bows away from the table and as subtly as he can (which is about the subtlety of an elephant in Manhattan) clambers after the older man.

"Dane!" He shouts, trying his best to not sound as winded as he is. How big is this damn club? Felix hisses internally. Dane levels him with dark eyes. Felix feels slightly cold. "Hey, old chum!" He laughs and slides up to the man. "Care for a drink?"

"I don't drink."

"A smoke?"

"I don't smoke."

"A dance?" Felix grabs the man's shoulder and gestures to the floor, disregarding how Dane is old enough to be his father. He wiggles his eyebrows. Dane sighs like a tired dog.

"What do you want, Herrera?" Dane doesn't hesitate to get to the point. There's a gleam in his eyes, an exhausted one. Felix knows that look. Dane doesn't want to be here. Not just with Felix or in the club, but anywhere near Vegas or gambling dens. Felix's mouth forms nonexistent words. Dane pulls from his grasp. "I have some birds at home to feed." And then Dane's off for the doors. In Felix's ears, Dane's next words are louder than any club music could ever hope to be. "And watch where your friend outside parks." He sends a glance over his shoulder. And he's gone.

"Herrera!" A shout. Felix's body doesn't register Helsie slinging an arm around his neck. "Whaddya say to another drink?" Their lips are impossibly close to Felix's ear.

"Sorry, doll," Felix whispers, maneuvering away from the other. "I got a friend to see."

And then Felix exits out the doors he came through, the afternoon Nevada sun blinding in comparison to the dark club atmosphere. Mae's parked in the corner. Dane's nowhere to be seen. The next thing Felix knows, he's in the passenger seat of Mae's car.

The rest of the time he spent in the car was out of pure boredom and trying to make the use out of this time. He remembered to charge his phone. He highlighted notes, make a key for each color, and then put the little pencil case back into his backpack. Then he read through news articles until that became a bore too.

Damian ignored the other messages he had gotten after the one about the failed test. The worst thing is is that he could only imagine what the other texts are about. Parents being upset for being asked for an in-depth autopsy, worries about doing too many tests, fingerprints and blood work not helping, little evidence they had bring lost…..He can only just imagine.

Everything around him was fuzzy and unclear. The sounds from the music and the AC faded as if he was walking away. He put the sunglasses on, then pressed the back of his head against the headrest. Almost ten minutes after he closed his eyes, he heard the passenger door open.

Opening his eyes, he turned his head to see Herrera. "So…how'd it go?" He asked while opening his notebook up. With a click of his pen, his eyes darted back over to his "friend".

As soon as he's in the car with the door shut tight and a quick reassurance that all the windows are up, Felix lets out a long sigh he didn't even know he was holding. His brain moves in rapid fire - images flashing like one of those flip-books his mother got him to stay still during church when he was a child. The information he got out of drunk/hungover Helsie will probably be the most useful to the detective and his case. But… the whole situation with Dane raises plenty of red flags. Not to mention Clyde, Blake, and Harima, who are all also suspects. Felix has almost nothing on them, and frankly, nothing annoys him more. It's a challenge, He reminds himself. You like challenges, Felix. Wrong. He hates challenges and loves lying to himself.

"Well, to start with-" Felix clears his throat and spreads his hands - palms down - in front of him. He shoots the detective a glance out of the corner of his eye. "Dane knows." His palms feel prickly. "He knows he's being watched, he knows that I'm not like the others." He laughs, but it's more to calm his nerves than anything. "Old bastard's more observant than I gave him credit for." He wipes his hands on his coat.

As the tip of the pen lowers down on top of the paper, he hesitates. With a click of the pen, he let's it rest in the middle of the notebook. A wave of distress rippled through him as he closed his eyes and sighed. Then came another breath and another and another.

Dane noticed, this could fuck up everything. If only he had thought about that possibility bring a reality. If only he had thought of another location to meet up at beforehand. If only he was smart enough to actually do his job. If only if only if only….

His brow quirked up at the laugh. It was like an instrument making an out of tuned sound. Damian stared at Herrera but then glimpsed at Herrera's hands. Though he clenched his jaw, he remained still as a statue.

Then he decided to do something, even if it could potentially be stupid. Damian took Felix's hand, wrapping his own around, then gave a slight squeeze. "Alright….we'll have to change the way we operate….Shouldn't be too hard," He shook his head and added, "You look troubled."

At first, Mae's silence and stillness only causes Felix's nerves to skyrocket. This is fine, he says to himself. This is all absolutely fucking fine. More lies. We just have to figure out a way around this… Figure out how to keep Dane- Felix's internal rambling comes to a screeching halt.

Mae is holding his hand.

Felix stares at their conjoined hands. Blinks. Laughs.

Felix leans over in his seat, using his right hand to rub at his eyes. He doesn't remove his hand from Mae's, no if anything, he just holds it a little tighter. "Yeah, I'm- I'm pretty fucking troubled." He sighs, rubbing at his temples. "I just- I need this to be solved. I need my record wiped clean and it's a lot harder than I thought it would be." His eyes slightly sting. Felix fixes his stare at the carpet protector beneath his feet. "My sister - my oldest sister, Santana - she called me the other night and-" Felix stops talking before his voice can break. "My dad. He-" A deep breath. "He has early-onset dementia." He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. "I- I'm sorry, I'm just-" Another sigh. "I was disowned when I was seventeen. My dad said I could only come back when I'd fixed myself." Felix laughs again. There's still no humor. "And now he has about eighteen months at the longest and I thought I'd be fine but-" He stops, feeling his voice slowly begin to climb up an octave. "He's still my dad, y'know?"

Felix didn't know he'd been holding Mae's hand even tighter until he finished his rambling. "But- uh… Yeah. You could say I'm troubled."

Troubled….That is not the best word he could have chosen. On the other hand it is apparent that Felix is stressed from the case and probably from a lot of other things that Damian doesn't know about. He just kept silent, mainly because he is not skilled in giving assurance through words; he's always worried about saying the wrong thing.

He didn't respond to the laugh or the moment when Felix looked down at their hands. Damian just kept on observing, waiting for the right time to offer some sort of comfort, although he cannot offer any comfort with the case. It's hard and giving some optimism but when you are with fucked up people, murders, and the case could go unsolved forever, it's useless. It may be just the way he thinks, yet he believes that is reality.

Although he is not going to say that to Felix, surely not now when he's about to break down in the car. His eyes glimpsed down at their hands; he took note of how his was being tightly held, but then his gaze returned to Felix. Part of him felt weird, like he wasn't supposed to be hearing any of this. Cleaned record, dementia, disowned, conflicted relationship; he kept it all in the back of his mind.

"Overwhelmed is probably a more suitable term," He shrugged. Damian sighed, then did his best to rub the inside of Felix's palm with his thumb. "Yeah, I suppose….There are some bonds in which under tremendous pressure always seem to withstand it all. And it's okay to…acknowledge them and hold them close to you. But you're not just doing this for your dad, you're doing this for yourself, right?"

He hoped what he is saying is right or will somewhat be useful. Yes he needs information for the case, but he needs his courier to be alright; that is more important to him at the moment.

Felix notes the soft brush of Mae's thumb, filing it away in his mind office underneath a giant file cabinet decorated in bright pink neon lights and pipecleaners. He's tried to change the file cabinet's appearance, but Felix first made it up when he was eight, and his mind refuses to get on board with twenty-nine year-old Felix.

"Yeah, no shit, man." He laughs softly. "I'm still doing this for me. I still want to do this for me. I may get sentimental sometimes, but I'm still a selfish bastard." Another quiet laugh. "I just- wish I could've been a better son, y'know? Yeah, my dad was kinda messed up, and he expected a lot from me, but there's just-" He clenches Mae's hand. "There were good times, too. And I fucked up what could've been a decent relationship. I stole, I lied, I cheated- I guess he was fed up." He sighs out of his nose and turns his eyes outside the passenger window. "But earlier, it was just for me. If I didn't figure this out, then it's no big deal. I just gotta keep my dirty hands. But now-" The file cabinet labelled FAMILY - the one hiding deep in his brain - shudders with memories. "Now I gotta do this for my dad, and my mom, and Santana, and Miranda, and Ana Luis-" Felix sighs. "There's a whole lotta pressure now."

So maybe he has run out of things to say. Mostly because he hasn't spoken to his own dad in like fourteen or so years; just completely cut the guy and his mother off from his life, but that is besides the point. His own selfish prejudice and thoughts kept getting in the way of saying anything half decent. He felt useless as per usual.

The moment he takes a breath, he notices how Felix is looking out the window. Out and away from the conversation as a use of minimal temporary comfort from the issues at hand. "It's a two way street. You put in effort so he has to, but now it doesn't seem like he can. What would he even say about this if he had the chance to? Would it be worth all of this? Or is going to be the same as you already heard?" He questioned. "Even later on when….even later on…you'll always be someone's son…his son. I-" Closing his eyes for a moment, he shook his head. "You can still have a chance of not fucking it up, even though it sounds like he did a lot too."

Damian paused in order to collect his thoughts. Gently with his free hand, he used it in order to move Felix's head so they can be facing each other. Then for extra measures, he cupped Felix's cheek. "A lotta pressure, hm?" He stared into his eyes, but with a little more emotion than usual and not the annoyed one. "Is there any that we can take care of now? Or is there anything we or you or me can do to make the pressure less heavy? Anything now so then it will be easier for you an hour or a day or a week from now?"

Felix draws his bottom lip between his teeth, gaze still locked out the window. It couldn't be that different, he tells himself. He's probably still going to be the ass that kicked you out twelve years ago. But then his sister's voice - too warm to be Santana's and too heartfelt to be Ana Luis's - filters in through his own thoughts. He's going to be gone in 18 months. You're running out of time to make things right, Felix. He huffs through his nose. Stupid Miranda with her stupid way of making Felix actually feel things.

"I don't know. I haven't talked to him in a decade and my sister's telling me that he's different." He lets out a sad laugh. "But she's a bleeding heart. All she wants is one big family dinner like we used to have. Hell, now that my abuela's gone I might be able to actually handle it."

Felix jolts at the hand on his face, an unexpected warmth flooding through his body. He flicks his eyes to Mae. And then his head is turned. Holy shit? The office in Felix's brain temporarily loses power. His eyes lock onto Mae's. An odd feeling takes ahold of his heart. "Well," He starts, voice unexpectedly quiet. "Maybe a drink later. I know a place."

Damian only looked away for a couple of seconds. He just needed to think of what to do, how to make this situation better. It's hard, but it's a part of his job, of himself. Obviously he knows that he isn't the first person people would consider to be helpful and consoling. And obviously he knows that he probably has some sort of RBF or dead stone face right now. Besides, he is aware of how pessimistic and harsh his words get, even when he doesn't mean it.

People give off many impressions and the mind can lie to you, but he pushed that thought to the side. "It is up to you on whether or not you want to go. On the other hand, you can just meet with him in private instead of a big family dinner. Take some of that pressure and stress of beforehand," Damian stated, "Nothing is really holding you up to this except for your mind. Your sister, the past, the worry about fixing it, the stress, your mind is clinging to it because that's all your mind has known. It's trying to bury you because that's what's easier. You have assure yourself that whatever you do, regardless of going to one last big family dinner with your father and helping me get this suspect, you will come out of it all in a better position than before."

He gave Felix's hand another squeeze. "Okay, that's a good start," He said. While he does have to give Felix the credit of coming up with something to help calm him down, Damian was not necessarily sure of resorting to drinking first thing. Nevertheless, whatever he is doing, he assumes is working to a certain degree.

Then he suggested, "How about getting something to eat first? Or maybe getting a drink with someone who can look out for you? What do you think about that?"

Felix can't help but laugh softly at Mae's consoling words. God, he's so stiff- If Felix wasn't about twelve seconds away from totally losing it, he would be taunting Mae to hell and back for his stone-cold expressions and monotone words. Hell, maybe his "pep talk" isn't even that bad.

"I'm sorry, it's-" He sighs, finding his chest slightly lighter than before. "It's really just a lot out of nowhere. God, a month ago I was-" He waves the hand not entwined with Mae's. "I don't even know what I was doing. And now I'm dealing with a dying dad, overly emotional sisters, an asshole detective, and a dead body of some chick I used to dream about taking down in a match." Felix laughs again, this one far less pitiful. He finds himself leaning into Mae's hand on his cheek. "Maybe it will all work out for the better. Who knows, my dad could still be an asshat." He snorts. "And if you do take me somewhere to eat, the first thing I'm doing is ordering the strongest cocktail the bar has to offer. Jesus, emotions are not fun, darlin'."

Damian shook his head at apology; there's no need for it. Apologizing for yourself in such a manner is like apologizing for the earth rotating on its axis. "Que sera sera," is all he could say for it. Speaking of the earth and its axis, it feels like the axis for both of them keeps going every which way. He rolled his eyes.

"Yah, come on you idiot. One: asshole is a lighter term that I've been called in a month and two: Miss Valentine wasn't some chick, she was a person and is now an unjust victim whom we must help. 'Some chick'….I should've talked to you first and not have that chief do it."

His lips thinned as he gave a small shrug. The frustration in his eyes had diminished. "At least balance it out with something to eat, your liver will be grateful," He joked, though in a deadpanned manner.

Damain took notice of Herrera new reaction to him cupping his cheek. A deep sigh guided him as he brushed Herrera's cheek with his thumb before returning his hand to his knee. He relaxed back into the seat, trying to convince his body to relax.

His brows rose in thought. "Emotions are to us what revolutions to dictators are. They are natural, controllable, and predictable, but they spark ideas, actions, and judgments in the human mind. For example, now here we are sitting in this car, navigating the mess of our lives while trying to find the person behind particular set of sparks, the one who killed Miss Valentine."

"Now….want to go somewhere now? To eat and get a few drinks?"

Felix snorts softly, seeing the joke through Mae's monotonous tone. His eyes follow Mae's hand as it returns to his knee. He beats the slight disappointment lingering in his chest back with a broom. Why, He internally screams at the sensation. Don't do that. No, that's bad and that's the last thing you need right now, Felix! Emotions! Bad! Stop! Wow, Felix is really getting good at the whole "lying to himself" bit. Missing the soft weight of Mae's hand, Felix instead ops for leaning his head against the headrest of the car.

He can't help the smirk that crawls on his face as Mae begins to monologue about emotions and their… necessity. Really, all Felix was looking to be was a little dramatic… maybe a little petty and here he is getting a lecture on emotions of all things. Hah. He could almost laugh. Almost.

Hold on- The office in Felix's brain (the one slowly regaining power from its unexpected blackout) seems to screech to a halt all over again. Sparks?

"Darling, I'm always down for a drink or two." Felix is quick to recover from his mind's… buffer? He smiles, letting it reach his eyes. "We could take my car. I could tell you what I saw during the match on the way there." Now that his chest feels oddly and significantly lighter, it'll be leagues easier to recount everything he noticed during the match. "Plus, I got a place in mind. The owner makes the best damn margaritas you'll ever have."

Lectures are as natural to Damian as leaves using photosynthesis. Regardless of whoever is a victim to it is, he will give one and will not hesitate to give another. On the other hand, it raises his "I don't take bs from you or anybody" meter through the roof. Oh well, at least Felix appears to be in a good mood.

Margaritas? His eyes widened at the word. Damian brought his hand up to touch his left cheek and the right. He is picky with what he drinks. Mostly because he's only used to a few and his face gets all puffy and blushed when he's even a little bit tipsy. Hopefully he can prevent it, he has to drive after all. It's too early in the day for him to be drinking.

He was on the verge of asking for another consideration, but he briefly thought about what had just happened and the fact that Felix seems to be better now. It's a relief to see it surprisingly enough and it's worth trying a margarita or two.

"Okay then, that sounds fine to me," He said before looking down at their hands. "I know you might find this comforting, but I am going to have to let go so then I can gather my things. Don't want to leave anything that can mess our chances up in this parking lot. Alright?"

Felix notices Mae's… hesitance to alcohol. Lightweight? Felix muses with a small smirk. Honestly, a drunk Mae would be quite the sight to see, and Felix wants a front-row seat. Well, the spectacle won't be too far off if everything goes according to Felix's impromptu plan. The margaritas and cocktails at Concordia Bar and Grill are downright addicting, and if Felix didn't have a friend behind the bartop that physically stopped him from ordering more than three, he would be wasted and/or dead.

He glances down once more at their conjoined hands. "Oh? This, nah don't worry about it, doll." Felix detaches his hand first, immediately noting how cold it feels. "Now, you can drive home and I could meet you there, or we can leave your car here and just go straight to the restaurant." He leans his head side-to-side, sighing at the soft crack. "I'm fine with either, doll." He reaches for the door, popping it open and noting the warm afternoon breeze. If they leave now, they should be able to beat the dinner rush.