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“Fan of the Morrigan’s?”
The guy leaning against the wall looks familiar, but it isn’t until Dio peers closer that he realizes it’s Baphomet himself lurking by the door. He’s hardly the only one wearing sunglasses down here in the dark anymore - not since the impression he made crashing the Morrigan’s gig over a month ago - and if he didn’t know Baphomet’s face almost alarmingly well by this point, the tee shirt beneath his jacket would have thrown Dio off for sure. More the fact that he’s wearing one, really, but it’s got a stick figure running around on fire above the words ‘I do my own stunts’, and while Dio’s heart may skip a beat or two at the idea of being so close to one of his favorite gods, it’s so atrociously cheeky that he can’t help grinning.
“Is this where you tell me you can get me backstage if I blow you?” Dio jokes. He doesn’t know when he got so brave, but he does know what the underground gods are capable of. He bites his own tongue and considers taking it back, lest Baphomet get offended and turn him into something approximating the very same stick-figure he’d found so amusing to begin with, but before he can,
“Well if you’re offering,” Baphomet kicks off from the bricks, grinning wide enough to give the impression of danger with his fang-like canines, “I am now. Though if it’s all the same to you, I think she’d prefer it if I dragged you backstage first.”
Dio doesn't know if they're still joking or not, but he laughs anyway. He might also try to imagine the Morrigan's reaction to that proposition, but that's none of Baphomet's business.
"Seriously though, you'll want to come with me; blowjobs entirely optional. There's someone we want you to meet."