In High Spirits (Irvine)

Irvine's only response to Milton's claim he could decipher the Ancestor fruits is to laugh. And laugh hard, at that.
It winds down eventually. "Whoo...alright, that's a good one. I can promise you right now, Mil, even if ya find things we haven't, you'll never find what we have." He shakes his head. "But that ain't important now, is it? Be good to talk to you some other time, but let's getcha the bill."

He gestures one of the trays to come by to pick up Milton's stuff, then holds up a finger and walks off. He comes back with a small plate bearing the bill, with a mint laid on top of it.


"Aaaand that's what you're looking at. Just let me know how you're paying and we'll be done before you know it."

"Hehe, caught ya off guard, didn't I?"
Milton wasn't sure whether to play it off as a joke or use the "I'm serious" line. As long as he was getting a chuckle out of it, better to just have him interpret however would keep him in his good graces. With the check making its way over to Milton's hand, the young bot reached into his pocket and flipped open his wallet, doing the calculations for a good-sized tip in his head as he thumbed through slips of currency, writing down the exact tip and total with the bills sitting on top as he turned it back around to Irvine. He also took out a business card from his coat pocket and wrote down his name. The business card itself was for... a psychologist by the name of Dr. Klein? The address of the offices were printed on the front, at least.

"Here you go. This should be a nice little tip your way. I'll be seeing you, Irvine. Have a good day."

Unless Irvine had any other questions for Milton, the young man would hop out of his seat, grabbing his scarf once more and tying it up around his neck. He had to head back to the offices to cover Dr. Klein while she likely took her lunch break.

"I'll say. One of the best laughs I've had in a while..." He shakes his head. "No offence meant, but you'd be dead before you could even hope to copy what we do with it."
Nodding to Milton as he takes the money, he does a quick count through before nodding at him. "Same to you, buddy."
He's about to go about his business once more, when he sees a certain set of quirks of the light meant to mark out dine and dashers.

Darkness descends.


"And where do you think you're going...?"

"No offence meant, but you'd be dead before you could even hope to copy what we do with it."

Maybe if he were a normal flesh-and-blood human, he'd certainly take forever to figure how these fruits worked, using the last of his limited organic life on a fruitless search. But then again, Milton wasn't like what this Irvine thought he was. In the shadow of Milton's body, the dark specter of nightmares stared back with glaring red eyes.

"Good luck with that. I've already died once. Not like killing me'll be any easier this time..." Milton whispered out of earshot from the shadowy waiter.
[EXIT]