#vash 01

"Hey— check this out! I… got no idea what it's supposed to say. You got any luck?"

Regardless of whether they noticed or not, Charles has stopped probing the shelves of the Arcanus Archive for a while now, and spent the time squinting at a particular section instead, quietly grumbling to himself.

It took time until he'd finally call out to the other while gesturing at the blurred names that'd, usually, contain a name of a location.

Richter had known that he hadn't been alone in this area for quite some time, though he'd neglected to search out the other individual in hopes of keeping his focus on the dangers around them both-- but it seemed the man had finally caught up to the half-elf, haphazardly walking into the area he was currently inspecting.

An arm shot out, purposefully blocking the other's path before he had a chance to quite literally fall into danger; the crease between Richter's brow only deepening as he kept a sigh from sliding out between his teeth.

"The texture of the earth is different here. Take another step and I'm certain it will be your last," it was not a threat, but a warning; emerald eyes flicking from one corner to the next to best judge where would be safest to step. "There is a structure just beyond here-- one that would be useful to survey.. though it is perhaps not worth it if there are more traps like these leading the way. We need to either disarm them, or find a way around them without setting anything off."

Vergil’s patience was running thin. He couldn’t make heads-or-tails of this place and most of the people here were either unawares- or, worse yet, just as confused as he was. Without anywhere to really go and no place to truthfully rest, he found himself in a place he’d never had a need for before; a bar. Sighing, the half-blood glanced to the shot glass as he considered what to do. He wouldn’t get anywhere just sitting here and drinking. He’d need to, of all things, get a job and maybe even keep his head low. 

Two things Vergil was definitely not used to doing.

It’s past two in the morning, and the club she’d been dancing at for the past three hours has finally closed. Shame, really, she could keep dancing, keep going wild in an enclosed space. But, she’s been cast out to the cool air of night, grinning and spinning about in the middle of the sidewalk. 

Miriam is hardly drunk, just enthusiastic about her own existence. It’s a common thing. It’s also a common thing for her to approach a stranger, like she does now.