#threads: anthony.

Anthony leaned against the brick wall of the bar they'd stumbled out of with a grin. Well, 'leaned' was generous; his shoulder and spine had locked up from the impact with the dumpster, forcing him to slouch over with his arms crossed, pretending his ribs didn't burn. "I was being diplomatic," he explained, which was absolutely true if running your mouth at a bouncer was considered an actual diplomatic act. And for the vampire, it was. He'd even made it fourteen whole minutes before things got punchy. "These guys have been talking shit behind the bar all week. Someone had to teach them about consequences. If not me, then who?"