–Vanitas wags a finger, smoothly redirecting the motion of Dante’s strike as if it hadn’t occurred.
❝ You’re far too old looking to be considered a toy of mine. ❞ He declares in answer to the broker’s obvious rhetorical question. With the last word rightly his, Vanitas takes to following Dante this way and that. Bars were information hotspots so of course, of all people, he’d know where to go to find one that was decent enough. Sniffing out such places was a specialty of a broker of Dante’s sort after all.
But once Vanitas caught sight of the bar Dante had meant for them to enter, he makes to stop him with a hand on the shoulder. Which of course was no easy task, Dante was a man on a mission, but it was nothing a quick dig of heels into the ground couldn’t stop.
❝ You really have no standards, do you, Baldy? ❞ Ebony hair falls into place with a tip of their head, Vanitas’ face splitting into that of his usual sort of smile; one that made it difficult to discern the true meaning behind the sudden flash of teeth. He expects a curse-laced retort for that, but spares Dante the trouble with a defeated sigh. Watered down shots on the dark side of Paris didn’t seem as splendid as it did nearly ten minutes ago. Even if he was being accompanied by Dante and more importantly; Dante’s six shooter. But for his poor, poor balding broker of a companion, he’d settle.
❝ Well, if the interior is as dreary as the exterior I could always liven the place up by sparking a bar fight or few! ❞ The self-proclaimed doctor suggests simply, releasing Dante from that claw-tipped grip to head inside first.–
“You’ll do nothin’ of the sort!” Dante snapped through clenched teeth.
He made a mad dash after Vanitas, snagging them before they got too far into the crowd and steering them bodily towards the farthest corner of the bar. Away from the short-fuses, the sleezy stares, and pretty much anyone that wasn’t pouring the booze.
Dante considered this absolutely necessary damage control. When it came to accompanying Vantias anywhere within public view, it paid to cover all the bases he could manage.
“Can’t we have one outing without a fuckin’ scene?” He hissed, slipping quietly into a corner stool. “I’ve been bustin’ my balls these past few days for ya, at least get me drunk before ya trash the joint.” he muttered. He hailed the keeper for their first round, hardly giving them a cursory glance as he waved two fingers about for a couple of pints to start ‘em off. Dante wasn’t expecting anything fantastic from this rat trap of a place. as long as the drinks were decently cold and knocked his rocks around a bit, he’d consider the night a success.
...and the night probably would have passed by relatively without incident, had the barkeep NOT turned out to be a buxom lass just shy their senior.
‘fuck meeeee.’ Dante thought bitterly. ‘there goes my evenin’.”
