[ Honestly, once he sends the map, Vergil... isn't quite sure what to do with himself. He can't remember there ever being a time where he'd needed to entertain a guest, much less himself. If he thinks on his childhood, he doesn't remember visitors to the house, can only ever recall being the one to visit others. And even then, he'd been a child, so proper etiquette had been mostly lost on him.
This is... new. He shuffles through the building, tidies up a stray piece of paper here and there. And then decides that such idle activities are idiotic, and picks up a book to wait.
When V finally arrives, he's sat on the couch, a book in his lap. No one stops by to visit, and he's only expecting one person, so there's barely a glance up at the unlocked door. ]
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This is... new. He shuffles through the building, tidies up a stray piece of paper here and there. And then decides that such idle activities are idiotic, and picks up a book to wait.
When V finally arrives, he's sat on the couch, a book in his lap. No one stops by to visit, and he's only expecting one person, so there's barely a glance up at the unlocked door. ]
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