"There's a wonderful club a few blocks down, and it's open all day...twenty-four hour happy hour, for those of us who are twenty-one and over..." Morty cooed, shooting up out of his seat. "We can go right now. We don't have to take a car to get there...it's just two or three blocks away."

The smile faded from Damien's face. "Twenty-one or older? I'm only 19." he said, sitting back down in the seat. He hoped he could still be able to go, but if he could't, he'd still want Morty to go. At least one of them would have fun.

"Oh, phooey. I'm only twenty and I can get in," Morty explained, amused. "This club simply cards people buying drinks...most know how to recognize a fake ID. People can still head in and dance, but not drink."

He sneakily purchased drinks behind the bartenders' backs.

Damien breathed a sigh of relief. He stood up again, the smile returning to his face. "Great! Let's go!" he exclaimed. Since he didn't know the way to the club, he waited for Morty to show him the way.

"Oooookay! Here, this way!" Morty, without any sort of hesitation, snatched Damien's hand and started leading him through the building, and all its various hallways, to reach the front lobby and the front door.

A light blush spread across Damien's face for a second from the sudden contact. He couldn't help it. It was an instant reaction. But luckily for him, it faded quickly before anyone would of had the chance to notice. People barely glanced at them when they walked by, to absorbed in their own work to notice anything else.

Outside, it was decent--not too hot, and not too warm. There were a few clouds in the sky, but nothing indicating rain soon. Morty walked quickly through the crowds of people. Some of them stared at him for his outlandish hair, eyes, and manner of dress. He stuck out outside of the agency building.

Damien followed after him, highly aware of the attention Morty was attracting. Which meant people were looking at him too because he was with him. He resisted the urge to drop his gaze to the ground so he'd be able to keep an eye on where they were going. And plus, he didn't want to run into anybody.

Morty seemed desensitized to the attention. He didn't enjoy or hate it--he just...didn't care. If people wanted to stare, they could. It didn't matter to him. Three blocks down, the club, called Pendragon, was easy to spot among the convenience stores and small businesses. It was a big place that stuck out, and music pulsed out of the doors. There was just a slight line to get in.

Damien smiled happily as the club came into few. It was definantly different from the other clubs he had managed to get into. But those clubs didn't have lines waiting to get in like this one did. He hoped it didn't mean that it was going to make it more difficult for them to get in.

Morty stood with Damien in line, and then when he reached the front, the working bouncer greeted him with a hug and a pat on the back. They knew each other...as a result, Morty and Damien were allowed inside, quickly.

"...I did tell you this is a freer sort of club, right? If I didn't, it sure is."

There were many different people inside. One of the defining features of Pendragon was its staff. Both female and male dancers, strippers (nighttime only), and waiters/waitresses prowled the club, playful and seductive with everyone.

Damien was about to ask what he meant by freer when they were allowed inside the club. He looked around it, amazement showing clearly on his face. This was most definantly not like the other clubs he's been too. It seemed more... fun. He smiled brightly and wanted to just walk around to take in everything, but they did come here to dance. So that was what they were going to do.

Morty took his hand again, tugging him gently towards the dance floor. He seemed content enough to eye the male dancers only while they walked by...obviously he had little to no interest in the opposite sex. Once they reached the dance floor, he squeezed in between a few people, patted Damien on the shoulder, and began to dance. He didn't do too much movement, for now...but what little he did suggested he was a good dancer.

Again when Morty grabbed his hand, a light blush spread across Damien's face. 'Stop that! You're not into guys!' he thought, shaking his head slightly to get rid of the blush. Once it was gone, he looked around to see that he was on the dance floor. He smiled lightly and moved his body in time to the music. Just the way he moved showed he had plenty of dancing ability.

Morty had four people hit on him--all of which were women. Before they could get the wrong idea, he politely turned them down, and went back to his solitary dancing. With his looks, it was often hard for his colleagues, especially at work, to understand why he was always single and turned down all women who flirted with him...

Damien had watched the women flirt with Morty. He was amazed though as to why he turned them all down. This could be because he was already taken. If so, then he really shouldn't press the issue. All the while while this was happening, he didn't stop dancing for a moment.

Morty grew tired only after a long, long while of dancing--someone with his level of energy did not tire easily. Once he did start getting tired, he mentioned it to Damien.

"You want to stop, and go get something to eat?" he asked, curiously. All the while, he had had a few more hopeful women approach him, and he'd also turned them down.

Damien nodded, forcing his breathing to come out even. He didn't see any need to show how tired he was. "Yeah. Some food sounds good right about now." he said, a small smile forming on his face. Curiousity began eating at his brain though as to why Morty was turning down all the girls and he figured he might as well ask. That way he'd understand better.

"Okay, then...there's a nice Chinese buffet two stores down, so we can go there...unless you don't like Asian food?" Morty asked, inquisitively. He was so used to turning girls down in front of people that he didn't notice Damien's confusion.

Damien shook his head. "Chinese food sounds good." he said, smiling at the thought. He couldn't remember the last time he went to a Chinese restraunt. "Let's go." He started walking towards the door, pushing his way past other people.

Morty followed him to the door, and then nodded to their right--the Chinese restaurant indicated was two stores down, as he'd said, and was open. "That's it!"

"Great!" Damien exclaimed, heading towards it. By the time he reached it, his stomach growled, complaining that it wanted food in it. Now. 'I'm working on it." he thought, scolding his stomach. Yes... He was weird like that.

Morty peered inside the quaint little restaurant before actually venturing inside. He didn't want to meet anyone he didn't care for inside. A few months ago, he had met a disgruntled ex of his in here...and didn't want that to happen again.

Damien noted Morty's caution upon entering the restraunt. Again his curiousity grew, but he kept it contained... For now. He was going to have to ask about it later. "What would you like to eat?" he asked, glancing at him.

Morty pleasantly greeted one of the waitresses, who helped to seat them. "Well..." He peered up at the buffet table. "Seems they've got everything out for dinner for the early birds, so it's mostly hot food...shall we go and have a look?" he asked, curiously.