[ Vanitas doesn't mingle, and he certainly hasn't made any sort of active effort to do it since he suddenly and abruptly found himself alone. But then, Vanitas has spent most of his existence alone. The only difference now was that instead of it being forced on him by the Master that abandoned him in the desert, he was constantly surrounded by people reminding him of exactly what he is:
nothing like them.
But he needs to fill his days with something. Usually, it's laying listlessly in his bed upstairs or curled up on the trapdoor of the Church— but today something is happening in the pub so Vanitas wends his way down to check it out.
It's some kind of party, that much is clear, but he doesn't bother asking what it's about. Instead, his eyes go directly to the food and Vanitas makes a beeline for the pan de muertos. So he can be found loitering at the bar, stuffing his face with sugar while his Unversed perches on the stool he isn't sitting on, holding his black-flame lantern. ]
no subject
nothing like them.
But he needs to fill his days with something. Usually, it's laying listlessly in his bed upstairs or curled up on the trapdoor of the Church— but today something is happening in the pub so Vanitas wends his way down to check it out.
It's some kind of party, that much is clear, but he doesn't bother asking what it's about. Instead, his eyes go directly to the food and Vanitas makes a beeline for the pan de muertos. So he can be found loitering at the bar, stuffing his face with sugar while his Unversed perches on the stool he isn't sitting on, holding his black-flame lantern. ]