@caligulasanchor
For about the twelfth time that evening, Abbacchio was wondering what he was doing here. And he had only been at this club for what, an hour? Too fucking long, he thinks bitterly as he’s slumped predictably at the bar to the side. He’s kept his drinks down to two... So far. After all, he’s here with company. Though, said company is currently making an ass of himself throwing his limbs all over the dance floor right up against some mohak sporting weirdo who looking like he rolled around in a dumpster full of glitter.
Arnold’s okay. Way too bright-eyed and way to chipper to be in the fucking mafia. He’s obnoxious, but not really the kind that makes his blood boil. It was more of the eye-rolling exasperation that Narancia produces when he acts five years below his age. Talking with him, or rather, listening to him talk feels familiar. He doesn’t hate it.
He supposes that’s why when he asked him to go out clubbing with him the day before, he didn’t flat out tell him to fuck off. It was something he enjoyed back during his high school days when he would sneak out of his parent’s house with a fake id in hand. And to think he wanted to be a cop. But something about the deafening beats and the strobe lights just... Tuned out everything else.
... He’s not getting the same effect now. His brow arches as he catches Arnold sliding down Mohak’s waist and going for 1st base. Yup. They’re gonna doing a disappearing act pretty damn fast. His lip purses as he turns his gaze literally anywhere else.
A pair of horns catches his attention, and he notes one of those trolls that he catches sight of from time to time. He’s been wandering around for a while now, taking the occasional picture here and there. But otherwise, he hasn’t made an attempt to dance or even interact with any of the other clubgoers. After a quick look at his face, it seems Abbacchio isn’t the only one who’s stewing and miserable. That probably shouldn’t give him the satisfaction that it does.
After a while, seemingly tired of getting jostled around and smooshed between over excited patrons hopped up on ecstasy, he eventually fights his way through the crowd and plops into a seat a few spaces from Abbacchio. Absently, he offers a nod before going back to nursing his sickengly sweet monstrosity.
