Re: [The piano bar: Misha & Lucifer.]
Misha didn't have a clue how to hide how he was. No one had ever reckoned it was important to show him tricks for hiding. In fact, everyone had done their damnedest to keep him from thinking he was anything that needed hid. So, truth was, and plain as could be, that the boy sitting there was like a beckon. His wings were shadows on the wall that dragged long 'cross the floor and bent upward 'gainst garish-lit light. Least they weren't visible to normal folk, but anything that came looking would know him for what he was. Thing was, he was learning nothing could do him in. It was in Nilus' book, that whatever he was, it wasn't vulnerable to Heaven or Hell, and Misha was too fussed to reckon how terrifying that must be in a boy powerful 'nough to stop time itself.
He wasn't trying to stop nothing just now. He was listening to the piano, and then he started listening elsewhere. Sensing, could be, would be a better work, and he swiveled on his chair 'til his gaze came to rest on the man at the bar.
Misha, he didn't need to ask.
He looked, and then he just nodded to the chair across from himself. He didn't trust himself to stand and walk on over. So, he waited, knee bouncing and twitching 'neath the small table. He turned the glass 'round once with damp fingers. He was nervous, truth be told, and he was still brimming angry, but Misha, he had daddy issues for days, and he was curious, and so he sat there, and he waited. Petulant youth with his lower lip jutting out some, he waited.