The shadows really do move, this time, at least. Roosting in the dark rafters are swathes of Unversed, bat-like creatures that huddle into the nooks and crannies with their wings folded and their eyes closed, shuttering them from view. These ones, like handfuls of others littering this place, weren't put there purposefully. Or rather— Vanitas has just never bothered to stop them from manifesting.
Most of them vanish into the woods, anyway, and return to Vanitas in sharp little stabs of feeling. He doesn't think of these ones as safe, but that's what they are, nestled away in this abandoned mausoleum.
Vanitas snorts, and rolls onto his back again. The drink comes away from his chest, held out to the side and propped just for the way Vanitas' bicep lays against the stone. The glass tips in his palm, and if it were more full, it would've probably spilled.
"What would you know," He murmurs, closing his eyes. Even with them closed, it still feels like his body is spinning on a slow axis. "You think you know everything... Keyblade Master. Just cause you were in the Dark for a little while." He's babbling, which really isn't that much of a stretch from how Vanitas has a tendency to fill silences with his own voice anyway. Only now it drawls, and his trajectory is aimless, instead of honing directly onto any perceived weakness he can set his sights on.
"I didn't get anything like this." He wiggles his drink. A little bit sloshes over the edge. "Cake... or chocolate." Vanitas doesn't open his eyes. "No cake in the desert."
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Most of them vanish into the woods, anyway, and return to Vanitas in sharp little stabs of feeling. He doesn't think of these ones as safe, but that's what they are, nestled away in this abandoned mausoleum.
Vanitas snorts, and rolls onto his back again. The drink comes away from his chest, held out to the side and propped just for the way Vanitas' bicep lays against the stone. The glass tips in his palm, and if it were more full, it would've probably spilled.
"What would you know," He murmurs, closing his eyes. Even with them closed, it still feels like his body is spinning on a slow axis. "You think you know everything... Keyblade Master. Just cause you were in the Dark for a little while." He's babbling, which really isn't that much of a stretch from how Vanitas has a tendency to fill silences with his own voice anyway. Only now it drawls, and his trajectory is aimless, instead of honing directly onto any perceived weakness he can set his sights on.
"I didn't get anything like this." He wiggles his drink. A little bit sloshes over the edge. "Cake... or chocolate." Vanitas doesn't open his eyes. "No cake in the desert."