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Eh... I wasn't really. Not all that many places to drive it. And I'd worry about Nico freaking out without it. [A beat.] Does it work like that? Where I'd get the van and she wouldn't... anyway.
[He shakes his head.]
Thought about getting something smaller, though. Maybe a bike...
[He shakes his head.]
Thought about getting something smaller, though. Maybe a bike...
( He shrugs at that because... Hell if he knows. Maybe Vergil does with the guy having been here nearly a year now. Either way, he takes another swig of his drink and finds himself something to lean against. )
A bike works. I could see about askin' for a devil arm if you really want.
A bike works. I could see about askin' for a devil arm if you really want.
Like you use? Like that crazy bike-sword thing?
[Ooh, he hadn't considered that...]
Hm. You think they're hard to fix? Half the fun is making them work and tuning them up.
[A beat.]
I mean. You don't have to spend your spoons on me, if you want one of your devil arms back.
[Ooh, he hadn't considered that...]
Hm. You think they're hard to fix? Half the fun is making them work and tuning them up.
[A beat.]
I mean. You don't have to spend your spoons on me, if you want one of your devil arms back.
( That would be what he's talking about, yeah. )
I got enough of 'em. Also make a lot of 'em, too.
( To which he fingerguns the kid with his free hand not holding his beer currently. )
I got enough of 'em. Also make a lot of 'em, too.
( To which he fingerguns the kid with his free hand not holding his beer currently. )
You've made them? I thought you like, found them. Or had a demon turn themselves into one for you, or whatever.
[He's a big fan of the nunchaku actually... though Nero's quite certain he'd just nail himself in the face if he tried to wield them. Wild and crazy weaponry is really more Dante's thing.]
[He's a big fan of the nunchaku actually... though Nero's quite certain he'd just nail himself in the face if he tried to wield them. Wild and crazy weaponry is really more Dante's thing.]
Spoons, kiddo. I'm talkin' about the spoons.
( Reaching over, he baps Nero on the head with a closed fist. Playful, but. Still a bap. )
But I also do have a lot of those devil arms back home. ( He hums. ) Could always consider askin' the fox for one of 'em sometime maybe.
( Reaching over, he baps Nero on the head with a closed fist. Playful, but. Still a bap. )
But I also do have a lot of those devil arms back home. ( He hums. ) Could always consider askin' the fox for one of 'em sometime maybe.
Oh. [Okay, that's a bap well-deserved. Even if he does grunt and swat and fix his hair afterwards, as is standard!] Right, yeah. They're easy enough to get.
[He attempts to look cool again by recovering his beer, leaning back against the bench and folding his arms.]
We still need to get your sword back too. It's just not you without a big ol' blade on your back. [There's a pause as he thinks, and then remembers-]
Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you, I got my gun back.
[He attempts to look cool again by recovering his beer, leaning back against the bench and folding his arms.]
We still need to get your sword back too. It's just not you without a big ol' blade on your back. [There's a pause as he thinks, and then remembers-]
Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you, I got my gun back.
( It is a little weird to be without his latest sword or even Rebellion, but. He's been managing thus far. Plus, not as though there's hordes of demons running around here that need to be dealt with. Still, it's on the agenda of things to acquire at some point.
The mention of his gun, however, gets him to lift his brows in curiosity. )
Did you? And you weren't even going to tell me, huh?
The mention of his gun, however, gets him to lift his brows in curiosity. )
Did you? And you weren't even going to tell me, huh?
Sorry. I forgot. D-
[Nero briefly trips over his own words, but only briefly. The less of a big deal he makes of this, the better.]
Dad got it for me. [Rushingpastthatnowlalalalala-] I wanted to know if you could teach me to make bullets. Like you do with the girls.
[Nero briefly trips over his own words, but only briefly. The less of a big deal he makes of this, the better.]
Dad got it for me. [Rushingpastthatnowlalalalala-] I wanted to know if you could teach me to make bullets. Like you do with the girls.
[The words leave Nero so casually that for a brief moment, it doesn't exactly register what Nero said at first. Vergil huffs a soft sound, quietly amused and perhaps even a touch pleased at the similarities between them. It has, after all, been a bit difficult for Vergil to really see much of himself in Nero. Outside of his temper at least. That much is quite obvious. But then it actually registers what Nero said and Vergil does a double-take.]
[You really are my dad.]
[There's never really been a distinction for Vergil. Father is just as much of a term of endearment as it is a sign of respect rather than a word to keep one's distance or signal a sense of detachment (or often resentment in Dante's case). But he knows Nero does not hold the same perspective. That much is obvious in how Vergil's name is often used to keep him at a safe distance while not denying him as a person. Father is a term that reflects fact and a position more than a person. Not to say that there is no emotion, no connection behind it whatsoever, but it's colder than just using Vergil's name instead. Dad, on the other hand... Even as a descriptor like this...? It's... Well, it's just...]
[It's for just a moment, but Vergil has forgotten how to breathe. Or perhaps he was too frightened to breathe because if he did, some illusion would shatter and he'd realize he misheard Nero after all, and it was merely wishful thinking in the end. But he breathes when he remembers it or perhaps the air in his lungs simply needs to move. Whatever the case may be, he breathes and nothing changes. Not in an unpleasant way, in any case. Not really. Even if stings a bit on that next breath, the air feeling sharper than it did a moment ago and he has to blink back uninvited emotion welling up in his eyes that he makes no direct acknowledgment of beyond looking away from Nero for a moment again.]
[Since learning of Nero's existence, Vergil hoped that Nero might make the allowance for him to be part of his life. However, beyond not casting him completely aside, Vergil didn't allow himself to envision what it might look like. Some of that was arguably due to a lack of imagination, but the real reason for it was the hope. Vergil could not allow for himself to hope because it would have been his ruin. Oh, if Nero could not have found it within himself to give Vergil the chance or to forgive him, it would have been awful. There is no scenario in which Vergil could find that ideal or anything less than terrible, but he could have lived with it. Provided that he did not allow himself hope, he could have done exactly as he said a moment ago and still refused to abandon Nero even while being kept at such a distance that the gulf between them is ultimately insurmountable.]
[He could not if he allowed himself to hope.]
[But he feels it now, and it's what took his breath away and brought unspent tears to his eyes as for the first time, a future feels all the more within his reach for the first time in... Well, he doesn't know exactly how long. But it's something he knows with every fiber in his being that he will do everything he can to fiercely protect it, no matter what it takes. Which feels so alien to Vergil as everything at once feels so large and overwhelming, and yet so quiet and simple all at once.]
[He doesn't know what to say, but it's not a loss of words that comes riddled with anxieties he's about to say the wrong thing that could spoil it all. No, it's a decidedly much better way to be rendered speechless. He draws another breath before he tries to speak, gathering enough of himself to borrow words in lieu of his own.]
I have no name. I am but two days old, [he recites, which Nero may very well recognize the lines from one of Vergil's books.] What shall I call thee? I happy am. Joy is my name. Sweet joy befall thee.
Pretty joy! Sweet joy but two days old. Sweet joy I call thee; thou dost smile. I sing the while sweet joy befall thee.
[He doesn't know if Nero will understand it. There's a good chance he won't given the times his nose wrinkled whenever V would recite lines of poetry. But it's close enough to an explanation and perhaps better than just grunting back and forth that he very well might.]
[You really are my dad.]
[There's never really been a distinction for Vergil. Father is just as much of a term of endearment as it is a sign of respect rather than a word to keep one's distance or signal a sense of detachment (or often resentment in Dante's case). But he knows Nero does not hold the same perspective. That much is obvious in how Vergil's name is often used to keep him at a safe distance while not denying him as a person. Father is a term that reflects fact and a position more than a person. Not to say that there is no emotion, no connection behind it whatsoever, but it's colder than just using Vergil's name instead. Dad, on the other hand... Even as a descriptor like this...? It's... Well, it's just...]
[It's for just a moment, but Vergil has forgotten how to breathe. Or perhaps he was too frightened to breathe because if he did, some illusion would shatter and he'd realize he misheard Nero after all, and it was merely wishful thinking in the end. But he breathes when he remembers it or perhaps the air in his lungs simply needs to move. Whatever the case may be, he breathes and nothing changes. Not in an unpleasant way, in any case. Not really. Even if stings a bit on that next breath, the air feeling sharper than it did a moment ago and he has to blink back uninvited emotion welling up in his eyes that he makes no direct acknowledgment of beyond looking away from Nero for a moment again.]
[Since learning of Nero's existence, Vergil hoped that Nero might make the allowance for him to be part of his life. However, beyond not casting him completely aside, Vergil didn't allow himself to envision what it might look like. Some of that was arguably due to a lack of imagination, but the real reason for it was the hope. Vergil could not allow for himself to hope because it would have been his ruin. Oh, if Nero could not have found it within himself to give Vergil the chance or to forgive him, it would have been awful. There is no scenario in which Vergil could find that ideal or anything less than terrible, but he could have lived with it. Provided that he did not allow himself hope, he could have done exactly as he said a moment ago and still refused to abandon Nero even while being kept at such a distance that the gulf between them is ultimately insurmountable.]
[He could not if he allowed himself to hope.]
[But he feels it now, and it's what took his breath away and brought unspent tears to his eyes as for the first time, a future feels all the more within his reach for the first time in... Well, he doesn't know exactly how long. But it's something he knows with every fiber in his being that he will do everything he can to fiercely protect it, no matter what it takes. Which feels so alien to Vergil as everything at once feels so large and overwhelming, and yet so quiet and simple all at once.]
[He doesn't know what to say, but it's not a loss of words that comes riddled with anxieties he's about to say the wrong thing that could spoil it all. No, it's a decidedly much better way to be rendered speechless. He draws another breath before he tries to speak, gathering enough of himself to borrow words in lieu of his own.]
I have no name. I am but two days old, [he recites, which Nero may very well recognize the lines from one of Vergil's books.] What shall I call thee? I happy am. Joy is my name. Sweet joy befall thee.
Pretty joy! Sweet joy but two days old. Sweet joy I call thee; thou dost smile. I sing the while sweet joy befall thee.
[He doesn't know if Nero will understand it. There's a good chance he won't given the times his nose wrinkled whenever V would recite lines of poetry. But it's close enough to an explanation and perhaps better than just grunting back and forth that he very well might.]
( Oh no. There's no trying to slip past that with him and the look on his face says it all with that grin. )
Dad did, huh?
( Chuckling around his beer, he shakes his head and takes a swig. Well. That was bound to happen at some point. Or at least he figured it would with their time spent together. That's nice. About time and all. Means Nero's feeling more comfortable around his old man if he's just dropping dad like that. )
Teach you how to make bullets. ( Licking over his lips, he tilts his head some. ) Your words or his?
Dad did, huh?
( Chuckling around his beer, he shakes his head and takes a swig. Well. That was bound to happen at some point. Or at least he figured it would with their time spent together. That's nice. About time and all. Means Nero's feeling more comfortable around his old man if he's just dropping dad like that. )
Teach you how to make bullets. ( Licking over his lips, he tilts his head some. ) Your words or his?
[DOUBLE DOWN! SAY IT HARDER!!]
Yeah, Dad did. [WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT IT, HUH DANTE?!
Defensive bashful aggression aside, he stays on the subject.] My words. You know, how you never actually have to reload? And you don't carry ammo? I want to know if you can teach me to do that, too.
Yeah, Dad did. [WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT IT, HUH DANTE?!
Defensive bashful aggression aside, he stays on the subject.] My words. You know, how you never actually have to reload? And you don't carry ammo? I want to know if you can teach me to do that, too.
( Aw, he's just so cute when his little demonic feathers are ruffled and he can't help but reach out and sling an arm around the kid's shoulders. In doing so, of course, he ruffles the back of his hair some, chuckle soft on his lips before he helps himself to another swig of his beer. )
Well aren't you just a cute little bug.
( Hand patting Nero's chest then, he pulls away and sighs, turning on his heel to face the kid. )
It's manipulating my demonic power. ( A beat. ) That's how I don't ever run out. Your old man summons ghostly little blades, I summon bullets.
Well aren't you just a cute little bug.
( Hand patting Nero's chest then, he pulls away and sighs, turning on his heel to face the kid. )
It's manipulating my demonic power. ( A beat. ) That's how I don't ever run out. Your old man summons ghostly little blades, I summon bullets.
[Nero recognizes that glance-away maneuver, knows it intimately. Honestly, every time he looks at Vergil and sees one of his own mannerisms unconsciously mirrored, it dawns on him once more, in sharper relief. But now that he's said it aloud, it's easier to think it without dodging around the word, or using his name, or tripping over a far too stuffy "father." This is his dad. And for the first time, he can admit that he means it as more than a bland descriptor. Vergil is his dad. He wants to be. He's fighting to be. And Nero wants him to be, too.
A quick swipe at his eyes isn't enough to fully hide the tears, but it takes care of most of them. With another snort he's through the worst of it, and he can even vaguely look in Vergil's direction again. Seeing him struggling with his own emotions hurts, but in the good way. Like stretching a sore muscle to the point it finally relaxes.
Then, for lack of a better description, Vergil can't hold back anymore and bursts forth an explosion of poetry. Nero smirks the moment he recognizes it, thinking fondly of V and his inscrutable soliloquies. Only this time, he recognizes it from somewhere else.]
William Blake, right?
[He reaches over and clasps Vergil on the forearm, a gesture of affection that isn't too over-the-top and doesn't require Nero getting up from his chair. Mostly because if he somehow coerces a hug from Vergil right now he's gonna fucking cry hysterically.
And with it comes a profound statement of understanding and empathy. The only thing he can really think to say to something like that.]
Ditto.
A quick swipe at his eyes isn't enough to fully hide the tears, but it takes care of most of them. With another snort he's through the worst of it, and he can even vaguely look in Vergil's direction again. Seeing him struggling with his own emotions hurts, but in the good way. Like stretching a sore muscle to the point it finally relaxes.
Then, for lack of a better description, Vergil can't hold back anymore and bursts forth an explosion of poetry. Nero smirks the moment he recognizes it, thinking fondly of V and his inscrutable soliloquies. Only this time, he recognizes it from somewhere else.]
William Blake, right?
[He reaches over and clasps Vergil on the forearm, a gesture of affection that isn't too over-the-top and doesn't require Nero getting up from his chair. Mostly because if he somehow coerces a hug from Vergil right now he's gonna fucking cry hysterically.
And with it comes a profound statement of understanding and empathy. The only thing he can really think to say to something like that.]
Ditto.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. [Swat, swat, swat. (And don't acknowledge how he likes it when Dante affectionately manhandles him like that, even to tease him.)
]
Yeah, I know. And I can charge-up my bullets, I do it all the time but... I think it'd be handy if I could summon 'em too.
]
Yeah, I know. And I can charge-up my bullets, I do it all the time but... I think it'd be handy if I could summon 'em too.
You tryna steal my shtick?
( Joking, he finishes off the rest of his beer, licks his lips, then sets the empty bottle down nearby, pressing the tip of a finger to the mouth of it, rocking it back and forth gently. )
I can try, if you want. I'm not the best at explaining how to do it though. It's just... a feeling.
( Joking, he finishes off the rest of his beer, licks his lips, then sets the empty bottle down nearby, pressing the tip of a finger to the mouth of it, rocking it back and forth gently. )
I can try, if you want. I'm not the best at explaining how to do it though. It's just... a feeling.
[Beneath Nero's hold, Vergil's arm turns just enough that he's able to return the gesture. His hold on Nero's forearm is firm, but it's fair from tight. There's no desperation, so much as it is a reflection of his words. And Nero's as well. Even if Nero is far more succinct. Vergil does not dismiss it out of hand because of its brevity or its simplicity. After all, it's not as though Vergil summoned a word of his own. Nero at least managed one. It pulls a faint, fond smile to Vergil's face. Well, that and Nero's recognition of the poetry he just recited. Vergil had his suspicions that Nero was reading his books after weeks of finding them just slightly off from where he left them and Dante not taking ownership of it as some sort of prank wherein he's testing to see how long it takes for Vergil to say something, but that confirms it.]
[He says nothing else beyond that, not feeling the need to, and leaves his hand there on Nero's arm for a moment or two longer before ultimately taking back his arm to gather up the empty takeout containers to dispose of them. He leaves the open container of dumplings still in the middle of the table for Nero, and his own unfinished hot chocolate. Vergil isn't particularly concerned about it getting cold as he won't likely be gone long enough for that.]
I should shower. And you... [he says, rising to his feet. Before he picks up his dishes as well to bring to the sink, he leans over far enough to gently ruffle Nero's hair. The gesture is equal parts affectionate and grateful.] You should finish with Blue Rose.
[Vergil may be far from an expert when it comes to firearms, but he knows Nero can't leave her half-cleaned like that.]
[He says nothing else beyond that, not feeling the need to, and leaves his hand there on Nero's arm for a moment or two longer before ultimately taking back his arm to gather up the empty takeout containers to dispose of them. He leaves the open container of dumplings still in the middle of the table for Nero, and his own unfinished hot chocolate. Vergil isn't particularly concerned about it getting cold as he won't likely be gone long enough for that.]
I should shower. And you... [he says, rising to his feet. Before he picks up his dishes as well to bring to the sink, he leans over far enough to gently ruffle Nero's hair. The gesture is equal parts affectionate and grateful.] You should finish with Blue Rose.
[Vergil may be far from an expert when it comes to firearms, but he knows Nero can't leave her half-cleaned like that.]
[They're not holding hands, they're... they're finding something that works for the both of them. Words don't come easily to either of them, and so they find ways to do without them. Borrow them. Communicate in other ways that they can both understand. That's been the name of the game so far, but... hard to deny that something about it must be working.
He takes a moment to trace it in his mind: the way it feels when his father squeezes his arm. The way it looks when he smiles at him. He's entirely memorized it by the time Vergil lets go.]
Yeah. I'm almost done. Two chambers to go.
[Then Vergil ruffles his hair in the same manner Dante always does. Nero doesn't swat at him, though... not yet. Maybe in another few times when it'll come across more facetiously bratty than as a rejection. Maybe when Nero isn't so enamored by the novelty he doesn't want to at all.]
You gonna go to bed after that?
He takes a moment to trace it in his mind: the way it feels when his father squeezes his arm. The way it looks when he smiles at him. He's entirely memorized it by the time Vergil lets go.]
Yeah. I'm almost done. Two chambers to go.
[Then Vergil ruffles his hair in the same manner Dante always does. Nero doesn't swat at him, though... not yet. Maybe in another few times when it'll come across more facetiously bratty than as a rejection. Maybe when Nero isn't so enamored by the novelty he doesn't want to at all.]
You gonna go to bed after that?
Most likely.
[Vergil tosses the takeaway containers into the trashcan before rinsing his dishes off in the sink. He simply sets them in there for the time being rather than washing them for now. For as much grief as he receives over his fastidiousness, Vergil is occasionally capable of leaving behind a little mess. To deal with later, of course. But still. He's not about to lose sleep over an unwashed plate in the sink.]
I'll be up reading at least for a little while. See if your uncle decides to grace us with his presence tonight or not.
[That's not said as scathing or critical as Vergil might otherwise say it, but there is a weight to it all the same.]
[Vergil is often the last one to bed most nights. When he was in this apartment by himself, that pattern of staying up relatively late each night was just one he hadn't managed to give up just yet. For a long time, he's slept as much as he needed minimally, avoiding whatever nightmares may come to him and keeping certain he remained safe when there was no one else for him to rely upon in watching over him. But now? Now, Vergil knows there is some part of him that does not and cannot entirely relaxed until he knows Dante and Nero are at least settled in for the night when he's here. When he's with Mizu in her cabin, it's much the same with her. Even if they're not entirely asleep by the time he closes his eyes, it's enough to know whether it's Mizu or Dante and Nero that they're close by and they're within reach. They're safe.]
[So, despite the fact he hasn't grilled Dante about his whereabouts on the nights he doesn't come home, nor does he even really kick up a fuss that Dante doesn't seem to consistently inform anyone that he won't be home seeing as how he comes home the next morning no worse for wear, it still does not sit well with Vergil to have Dante out and his whereabouts generally unknown by the time Vergil knows he must sleep.]
[Vergil tosses the takeaway containers into the trashcan before rinsing his dishes off in the sink. He simply sets them in there for the time being rather than washing them for now. For as much grief as he receives over his fastidiousness, Vergil is occasionally capable of leaving behind a little mess. To deal with later, of course. But still. He's not about to lose sleep over an unwashed plate in the sink.]
I'll be up reading at least for a little while. See if your uncle decides to grace us with his presence tonight or not.
[That's not said as scathing or critical as Vergil might otherwise say it, but there is a weight to it all the same.]
[Vergil is often the last one to bed most nights. When he was in this apartment by himself, that pattern of staying up relatively late each night was just one he hadn't managed to give up just yet. For a long time, he's slept as much as he needed minimally, avoiding whatever nightmares may come to him and keeping certain he remained safe when there was no one else for him to rely upon in watching over him. But now? Now, Vergil knows there is some part of him that does not and cannot entirely relaxed until he knows Dante and Nero are at least settled in for the night when he's here. When he's with Mizu in her cabin, it's much the same with her. Even if they're not entirely asleep by the time he closes his eyes, it's enough to know whether it's Mizu or Dante and Nero that they're close by and they're within reach. They're safe.]
[So, despite the fact he hasn't grilled Dante about his whereabouts on the nights he doesn't come home, nor does he even really kick up a fuss that Dante doesn't seem to consistently inform anyone that he won't be home seeing as how he comes home the next morning no worse for wear, it still does not sit well with Vergil to have Dante out and his whereabouts generally unknown by the time Vergil knows he must sleep.]
( This is one of those times where he wonders if he might be different with his abilities if Vergil had been there alongside him to learn from as they grew up. His brother somehow just seemed more naturally gifted in tapping into it all much quicker than him. Heβd been the first one between them to devil trigger after all, and while he likes to think heβs relatively fine in figuring it all out for himself as time goes on, heβs not a fool. He knows Vergil has always been betterβ¦ more adept at it than him.
Still, bullets and guns are absolutely not his brothers area of expertise, so. Throwing a smile over the kidβs way, he nods. )
Sure. Whenever youβre up for some uncle and nephew time, Iβll see what I can do.
Still, bullets and guns are absolutely not his brothers area of expertise, so. Throwing a smile over the kidβs way, he nods. )
Sure. Whenever youβre up for some uncle and nephew time, Iβll see what I can do.
I'll probably be along soon.
[That's "I'm going to sleep in your room tonight" in not as many words. Sure, he could take the pullout since Dante's not around, but he doesn't want to get jostled awake in the middle of the night by a returning Dante when he gets in. If he gets in.
Maybe he's out at one of those all night clubs or something? That'd make sense.
Also maybe he just wants to sleep next to HIS DAD tonight, so there!
Vergil's niggling discomfort over Dante being out does not escape his notice, though.]
I can send him a message if you want. [He will not go on to suggest that Dante's fine or he shouldn't worry or anything to even imply such a thing. Nor will he remind Vergil that HE could send Dante a message if he wasn't so goddamn stubborn and old.
He takes another sip of his cocoa, then resumes cleaning Blue Rose. Should only be another five or ten minutes before she's pristine.]
[That's "I'm going to sleep in your room tonight" in not as many words. Sure, he could take the pullout since Dante's not around, but he doesn't want to get jostled awake in the middle of the night by a returning Dante when he gets in. If he gets in.
Maybe he's out at one of those all night clubs or something? That'd make sense.
Also maybe he just wants to sleep next to HIS DAD tonight, so there!
Vergil's niggling discomfort over Dante being out does not escape his notice, though.]
I can send him a message if you want. [He will not go on to suggest that Dante's fine or he shouldn't worry or anything to even imply such a thing. Nor will he remind Vergil that HE could send Dante a message if he wasn't so goddamn stubborn and old.
He takes another sip of his cocoa, then resumes cleaning Blue Rose. Should only be another five or ten minutes before she's pristine.]
[It will never cease to amuse Nero how much both Dante and Vergil bounce him back and forth between them. As fraught as their history has apparently been and as much as they squabble, they both hold profound respect for one another and keep advising Nero to trust one or the other of them with this or that. It's terribly endearing.
And he's pretty sure they'd both deny it until they turned blue in the face.]
Cool! Blue Rose doesn't fire as fast as yours, obviously, so it's only two bullets at a time... but it'd be sweet if I could get them to punch as hard as the real thing.
[He goes back to digging through the box, pulling out a few choice pieces of scrap.] I think I'm gonna be pretty good at it, actually... like I've already had some practice.
And he's pretty sure they'd both deny it until they turned blue in the face.]
Cool! Blue Rose doesn't fire as fast as yours, obviously, so it's only two bullets at a time... but it'd be sweet if I could get them to punch as hard as the real thing.
[He goes back to digging through the box, pulling out a few choice pieces of scrap.] I think I'm gonna be pretty good at it, actually... like I've already had some practice.
He thinks he's gonna be good at it already.
( Chuckle soft, he shakes his head as he wanders around the garage, hands behind his back, looking at this and that and what the kid's done with it for himself here. )
Might be a little difficult trying to do two at once to start but hey, we can see what works when it's time for Uncle Dante's School of Shooting classes.
( Chuckle soft, he shakes his head as he wanders around the garage, hands behind his back, looking at this and that and what the kid's done with it for himself here. )
Might be a little difficult trying to do two at once to start but hey, we can see what works when it's time for Uncle Dante's School of Shooting classes.
I mean, I already know how to work with my energy a little bit. Like I throw a little pepper on my bullets all the time.
[He glances over his shoulder and smirks at Dante, rather confident.]
Not that I'm anywhere near your level, O Sensei. Do you take payment in food?
[He glances over his shoulder and smirks at Dante, rather confident.]
Not that I'm anywhere near your level, O Sensei. Do you take payment in food?
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