[dante's having a moment, happily taking one of the slices of pizza and bringing it down to his mouth, showing no manners whatsoever in how he goes about this eating business. all he knows is that he wants pizza in him, and the cook in the tavern has really mastered the art of... bread, sauce, and cheese. dante is a big fan. by the time loki sits down across from him with a cup of ale, dante's licking off the grease from his fingers.]

You bet.

[he's casual about it all, not really caring much for what others think of him, unlike — well, loki, for example.]

[it's only then that dante glances up at loki for the first time in, what, almost a month? how time flies when a person's busy, and how little time means when stuck in a dungeon for two weeks with very little sense of it.]

You know me, [he stretches out his arms, letting them rest over the back of his chair and that of another pushed close by the movement on the floor] I'm always about the attention. And as fun as fighting is, it's pretty sad to see humans killing each other.

Aye! [quips a bearded old man with a pint of ale nearby, which makes dante snort and wave his hand over at him.]

I was supposed to take sides apparently.

[he's grabbing another slice.]