Are there a buncha you outside my crib right now? I mean, I know I'm good lookin' and all but this is gettin' pretty weird if ya ask me.

Why don't you all go home?

[Dante pushes his fingers through his pale silver hair and smirks.]

It's gettin' pretty late. Maybe we should crash and try openin' the vents again in the morning. They'll still be there, ...probably.

[He looks towards his companion with eyes that still glow red and silently hopes they fall asleep first. He's not scared, he reasons, he's just wary. But he'd be lying if he said the weight of the knife tucked into his boot was not comforting.]