They're going to tug of war this blanket forever, but Vanitas's yanking is now more in contrary fun.
"Yeah? Where else do you think people who make too much noise go?"
Nobody cares if things get stolen from you, or if someone grabs you in the street. But there's a reason there's Watchers. There's a reason people just go missing sometimes. Not every time. But often enough. It's the hospital for people they don't even try to pretend to 'fix'. Maybe it's just Vanitas has more connection to the underworld by default.
Also a reason that, apart from the initial yelling, he's been pitching his voice slightly lower than the ambient sound, just by years-long habit.
"How can you be a r-e-a-d-e-r and not know this?" Honestly the way Ventus says 'down here'... did he decide that jails were only a Surface thing, or something? He doesn't ask 'aren't I what?'. There's fear underneath, but he won't admit it either.
"You'll have to come and take them, Ventus." He sniffs. These are his boots! They might as well be made of solid gold. They're steel-capped things, meant for workers in the production lines, and they're just a little bit big on him. "From my cold dead body." That's how it works here after all. No way is he just giving him them, even in principle of prior agreement.
no subject
"Yeah? Where else do you think people who make too much noise go?"
Nobody cares if things get stolen from you, or if someone grabs you in the street. But there's a reason there's Watchers. There's a reason people just go missing sometimes. Not every time. But often enough. It's the hospital for people they don't even try to pretend to 'fix'. Maybe it's just Vanitas has more connection to the underworld by default.
Also a reason that, apart from the initial yelling, he's been pitching his voice slightly lower than the ambient sound, just by years-long habit.
"How can you be a r-e-a-d-e-r and not know this?" Honestly the way Ventus says 'down here'... did he decide that jails were only a Surface thing, or something? He doesn't ask 'aren't I what?'. There's fear underneath, but he won't admit it either.
"You'll have to come and take them, Ventus." He sniffs. These are his boots! They might as well be made of solid gold. They're steel-capped things, meant for workers in the production lines, and they're just a little bit big on him. "From my cold dead body." That's how it works here after all. No way is he just giving him them, even in principle of prior agreement.