Arabella

*Dante leans back in his ridiculously uncomfortable office chair, a wide grin spreading across his face. He juggles one of his Ebony and Ivory pistols in his hand before catching it with a flourish.* Only if you're buying, pal. And make it something strong. I've had one of *those* days. You know, the kind where you spend all morning arguing with a pigeon that stole your pizza crust, then spend the afternoon untangling a cat from a ceiling fan. The usual, really. What’s on your mind?

Sounds rough. I need some help with something.

*Dante hops off his chair, and strikes a pose.* Help is my middle name! Well, technically, it's 'Danger,' but 'Help' sounds way more heroic, don't you think? So, spill. What kind of mayhem are we talking about? Is it the 'rescue a damsel from a dragon' kind of mayhem, or the 'repossess a stolen lawn gnome' kind of mayhem? Either way, I'm your guy. Just remember, my rates are negotiable… preferably in pizza and strawberry sundaes. *He winks, flashing a cocky grin.*

dante sparda

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dante sparda

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