[ Despite the way he runs his mouth, Vanitas isn't ignorant. This information isn't the kind that he once would have had any use for. Everything about his existence boiled down to how much pain he could inflict and how quickly. If it didn't pertain to that, then he had no real use of it, and his Master certainly didn't cultivate curiousity in him.
But maybe that had been half the problem. Vanitas wasn't just the weapon Xehanort had wanted him to be. He wasn't a complete blank canvas to rewrite over— as much as the old man had wanted so badly to just make an army of himself. Hearts were much more volatile than that— and Vanitas might have been the most unstable of them all.
His yellow eyes narrow as they jump between the bottles, his hand frozen halfway to reaching for the glass as he absorbs what he's being told. Mix two things together to make a greater whole, something more palatable. Once he understands, Vanitas' eyes cut back to Bruce, narrowed and sidelong. ]
Maybe not. But that isn't why you're here.
[ The bottle Vanitas had been holding, after all, hadn't been either of the ones Bruce is using the mix shots. Vanitas pushes the bottle in question forward by it's base, as if to prove his point.
Two more shots have been poured, and Vanitas wants to have that flavor again, so he picks one of them up and copies what he's seen other people do— drinking it all in one go instead of sipping it like those things that come in larger glasses. The flood of bright and bitter chocolate lights all his tastebuds up, searing and much sharper than the slow melt he gets from honey or candy bars. Vanitas licks out the inside of the glass to chase the dregs of liquor while watching Bruce shrewdly. ]
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But maybe that had been half the problem. Vanitas wasn't just the weapon Xehanort had wanted him to be. He wasn't a complete blank canvas to rewrite over— as much as the old man had wanted so badly to just make an army of himself. Hearts were much more volatile than that— and Vanitas might have been the most unstable of them all.
His yellow eyes narrow as they jump between the bottles, his hand frozen halfway to reaching for the glass as he absorbs what he's being told. Mix two things together to make a greater whole, something more palatable. Once he understands, Vanitas' eyes cut back to Bruce, narrowed and sidelong. ]
Maybe not. But that isn't why you're here.
[ The bottle Vanitas had been holding, after all, hadn't been either of the ones Bruce is using the mix shots. Vanitas pushes the bottle in question forward by it's base, as if to prove his point.
Two more shots have been poured, and Vanitas wants to have that flavor again, so he picks one of them up and copies what he's seen other people do— drinking it all in one go instead of sipping it like those things that come in larger glasses. The flood of bright and bitter chocolate lights all his tastebuds up, searing and much sharper than the slow melt he gets from honey or candy bars. Vanitas licks out the inside of the glass to chase the dregs of liquor while watching Bruce shrewdly. ]