[In Constantin's defense, Dante is rude to him! Not so rude that Constantin will ignore him on sight, which is either generosity or foolishness, or both. Shut up Dante.]
I— I am not sensitive.
[narrator: he was in fact the most sensitive person in the whole temple, actually]
[that's what a sensitive person would say, and dante's just amused by the fact that he so easily pinned constantin down. but, man, does constantin really just act like an open book.]
Sure. [hangover obvious, dante's impressed that constantin isn't showing much of it right now. he takes the bottle back, and puts a heavy hand over the younger man's shoulder, leading him onwards and down the hall.] I'm surprised your legs are working! Let's get some glasses and have a toast, then.
[Your legs fall asleep one time and you never live it down... Constantin is too hungover to protest being manhandled down the hall- but not too hungover to consider this manhandling, no- so the true lesson is only a hangover can temper his, ah, usual manner. The posturing.
It's like ten steps down the hall that he clues in to the part where this is happening right now, so—]
It's the middle of the day! [He's also not too hungover to have lost all sense of propriety!!] And what could you possibly be toasting to?
[does it look like it matters to dante that it is just the middle of the day?]
Even better! Get started early on.
[there should be glasses in the dining hall area, and so dante heads straight for the kitchens, not minding priests and priestesses too much. they are 'saviors' after all, so they got all the access they could want. that's how it works, right?]
[Ordinarily, Constantin would be delighted about poking through the kitchens to take whatever they want! Very fun! But the headache and the company are a little less motivating, so don't mind if, when they reach the kitchens, he simply stands back and waits to be told to carry something. He can carry something, he supposes. He'll dedicate that much spirit.]
Oh, I could pick out a number of things, starting with your sudden annoying cheer.
[His traitor ears... He makes a face, but since he can't cover his ears with his hands without a) upsetting his cup, and b) looking like a goddamn child, he will just have to pretend he has no idea what Dante is talking about.]
And one to your spectacular manners.
[There, happy? He's raising his cup. Will he actually drink? No, not yet, because he's hungover(!!) but it's the gesture that counts.]
[all he can offer constantin is a big, old smarmy grin as he tips the cup back and downs the whole thing. he's quickly filling up his cup again, because he did say he'd drink half the bottle for the other.]
Don't take my lack of manners personal. I was raised by savages.
[dante doubts that constantin knows what he's doing most of the time, but here they are drinking liquor during the daytime, so who is he to judge?]
Managed to see your face after all? [on the mirror, he means. he serves himself another glass, reaching that fabled half of the bottle... the moment he reaches it, he's outta here.] What was that about?
[this day drinking was dante's idea? constantin is an innocent victim in this.
anyway, wow, does he want to talk about this... not really, but.]
I— yes. [urgh] I was taken ill before I arrived here, and I feared it may have left me... disfigured. Ordinarily, the disease eats a body from the inside out, leaving considerable scarring before the inevitable death.
[sip...don't bully him about this one thing, please, dante.] So I believe I had due cause for concern.
[even dante can see how death can be terrifying, especially if it's a slow-going one... but as much as he seems to do it, his expression remains impassive, like that's a nice story constantin is telling him.]
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I— I am not sensitive.
[narrator: he was in fact the most sensitive person in the whole temple, actually]
It isn't as if I could stop you, so if you must.
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Sure. [hangover obvious, dante's impressed that constantin isn't showing much of it right now. he takes the bottle back, and puts a heavy hand over the younger man's shoulder, leading him onwards and down the hall.] I'm surprised your legs are working! Let's get some glasses and have a toast, then.
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It's like ten steps down the hall that he clues in to the part where this is happening right now, so—]
It's the middle of the day! [He's also not too hungover to have lost all sense of propriety!!] And what could you possibly be toasting to?
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Even better! Get started early on.
[there should be glasses in the dining hall area, and so dante heads straight for the kitchens, not minding priests and priestesses too much. they are 'saviors' after all, so they got all the access they could want. that's how it works, right?]
What's there not to toast for?
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Oh, I could pick out a number of things, starting with your sudden annoying cheer.
[Who is this man? Is this Dante? Suspicious.]
But never mind! Let's get this over with.
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You're the one always bitching about a third of a conversation or whatever you call it.
[popping the bottle open, he's already pouring a drink for the both of them.]
What, afraid your legs will malfunction again?
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uuuuggghhhhhh]
Truly, would it cause you acute physical pain to not be so abrasive? That was one time!
[One! Time! He's trying to look indignant and aloof, but his ears are already red with stupid embarrassment. One time!!!!]
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[constantin makes this too easy. dante raises his glass, though.]
A toast to your sensibilities.
[YOUR RED EARS]
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And one to your spectacular manners.
[There, happy? He's raising his cup. Will he actually drink? No, not yet, because he's hungover(!!) but it's the gesture that counts.]
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Don't take my lack of manners personal. I was raised by savages.
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I would have no trouble believing that, if it happens to be true. [no offense? full offense? who can say!] If nothing else, you are consistent.
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[dante is certainly taking no offense in anything constantin decides to throw his way by means of insult, or otherwise.]
[he drinks up his cup, and refills it again. he's done two already and you're still on your first one? ah, constantin...]
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Of course.
[sssssssip]
So, you've grown tired of pretending not to know me already?
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[don't get your hopes up]
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I don't believe you. But as I am too hungover to bother trying to prove such a thing, never mind it now.
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[he's definitely fucking with constantin]
Might want to not drink too much, huh.
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I know how to moderate, thank you! Don't patronize me.
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[eyebrow...raise...]
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[bruh]
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I'm a very convenient man.
[and taps his temple.]
A moment of clarity. You reach my age and you just start forgetting things.
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Of course. Well, a little revelry at the appropriate time never harmed anyone!
[he totes knows what he's doing!!]
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[dante doubts that constantin knows what he's doing most of the time, but here they are drinking liquor during the daytime, so who is he to judge?]
Managed to see your face after all? [on the mirror, he means. he serves himself another glass, reaching that fabled half of the bottle... the moment he reaches it, he's outta here.] What was that about?
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anyway, wow, does he want to talk about this... not really, but.]
I— yes. [urgh] I was taken ill before I arrived here, and I feared it may have left me... disfigured. Ordinarily, the disease eats a body from the inside out, leaving considerable scarring before the inevitable death.
[sip...don't bully him about this one thing, please, dante.] So I believe I had due cause for concern.
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[even dante can see how death can be terrifying, especially if it's a slow-going one... but as much as he seems to do it, his expression remains impassive, like that's a nice story constantin is telling him.]
The magic fixed you up?
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I don't know! All things considered, I would be content to never figure it out.
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