PARADISA

I have lobsters taped to my wrists.

[And now you can hear them, snapping about, clicking...making other lobster sounds. And Vergil is just silent as the grave for the longest time. And when he talks again, it's two parts baffled, two parts concerned, one part unamused and one part disturbed]

Why do I have lobsters taped to my wrists?

[SNAP! Yup, one got his nose. And despite fighting demons, regularly getting thrashed, regenerating from beatings and all other kinds of things, it hurts like a bitch. So there's quiet. And then a breath being sucked in slowly. And then=]

AAARH! GET OFF!

[Tug tug TUUUUUUUG stumble trip crash SNAP]

DAMN YOU, don't you start!

[Scrambling up, pulling, stumbling forward again, and the book gets knocked to the floor and shut in the process]

[ooc: Loss start]

[At first, there's nothing but the sound of a book being quietly opened, and the light flipping of pages. Flip. Flip. Flip. Far too close to one another for any page to be properly read.

And then stops. And after a period of silence, a tired, mirthless couple of chuckles are quickly transcribed and transmitted through the pages]

To think, the denizens of Hell would go to such lengths to receive me. Such lavish furnishings do not fit the Demon Realm. And that does not even broach the subject of this book, the inane little gimmick it is. [Despite his words, there is absolutely no humor in his tone.]

I demand an explanation. If not from the scum that chose to snatch me away, then from those that fill this book with utter nonsense and idiocy. And I will only say this once, and you should be thankful for it.

I am in no mood for games. Think to play one with me, and I will see to it you do not live to regret it.

Don't keep me waiting.

[And the book snaps shut]