Causin' problems makes you famous

Vito smirked and watched her make her way to the bar, rolling his dark colored, amused, eyes. He ran a hand through his hair as he turned his attention back to the ceiling, thinking again for a moment about- well- everything, really. He wondered for a moment how much easier things would be if he allowed himself to take on his poltergeist form, rather than that human mask he’d been wearing for as long as he could remember, but the idea of being completely disregarded 24/7 made his skin craw and his skull itch. Giving up his perfect appearance would do nothing to benefit him, and it really wasn’t an option.

“I was going to scar you had you not gotten that drink for me,” Vito stated with a smirk that revealed only the points of his sharpest teeth; he would enjoy the roll of her eyes, or the witty comeback from Jack, because it was that very frustration that he was doing his working to afflict upon her.

The egotistical poltergeist brought his glass to his lips once more, inhaled the strong scent before tipping the glass back- and his head- relieved when the liquid set his chest on fire. For some reason, he felt the need to continue drinking until his head was light and he could no longer keep himself from falling to the ground. This was rare for Vito to desire, for he usually kept himself from getting drunk in order to keep his appearance and his attitude the way he liked it- but the thoughts that kept popping up every now-and-then in his head were driving him to the alcohol, to the burning sensation in his chest.

First, however, he would need to get rid of Jack; he wasn’t about to show weakness in front of her, for he found his reputation was too important. Wait… it was a plan? Vito was planning it out? Plans meant that things would be set into action, and therefore, a plan to get drunk without humiliating himself meant that he would do just that.

Vito’s thoughts were rudely interrupted by an unimportant question from Jack, and he replied after finishing off his drink just as quickly as he had the last, “I prefer victims and enemies over acquaintances, Jack, and I’m certain I’ve answered this question before,” he said smoothly, dropping his used up cigarette on the floor.

“Time to go, I want to get drunk”

Jack's eyes narrowed on him as he said he would have burnt her had she not done what he had asked....told. She stared blankly at him in a sort of disbelief, a "seriously?" look written on her face. She scoffed and shook her head, brushing her bangs out of her hair.

Would he stop at nothing to appear as "bad-ass" as possible? Did he really think that this "F*** everybody else" attitude impressed anyone? Because no matter what Vito said or even thought, he lived for the approval and fear of others. The reputation he had earned for himself was the one he chased after. He was either loved or feared by people.

But frankly, he just irritated Jack. He would not be so dreadful if he just existed the way he did. Even if he had wanted to burn her, he also felt the need to announce it, to make it known, because he could not stand for yet another bad part of himself somehow go unnoticed.

She sighed and pushed away her soda. She suddenly was not in the mood for it. She stood up, pulling the knapsack she always had with her onto her back. "Vito...When are you going to learn that the rest of the world, really does not care that much? At some point you have to cut your losses and accept who you are."

She had done it long ago. She had stopped moping about the fact that she had a personality that scared people off, and she grew closer to the people who could be around her. Vito was bitter about something in his life, and right now, Jack did not have the patience to delve into his twisted mind and cold heart to find out what it was.

She shook her head, grimacing as she looked down at Vito in a look that just showed her disbelief. He really was still trying to show off his bad-boy self to her, as though she did not already know he was a terrible person. She shook her head and said in a quiet but strong voice, "I'll see you around Vito..." She turned and walked out of the bar, turned on the spot, and disapparated.

“What?” Vito asked as he stared at Jack with confusion dancing in his dark colored eyes; she had just gotten up and walked away, as if she actually had the option to do so. Vito had always been the one to tell her when she was to leave, and the fact that she had gone off on her own without him having to order her to do so left him standing there in the middle of the cheap pub with his lips parted slightly, his eyebrows raised. “What just happened?” he asked the air around him, before running a hand through his freshly-trimmed hair.

Well, at least getting rid of her had been easy, but knowing that he hadn’t had to put any effort into it made him feel somewhat thrown off balance. Not to mention the fact that her words were already etching themselves into his brain- though he managed to catch himself before he allowed anything Jack said to get to him.

He adjusted his suit, smoothed out his tie, and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Sir- sir you need to pay for those drinks you ordered,” but Vito had already walked to the door and kicked it open with his foot. “Hey! Bastard… I swear I’ll have your head blown off if you don’t pay for those drinks,” the bartender shouted loudly before making his way out from behind the bar, rummaging through his pockets in search of what Vito guessed would be either a wand, or a gun.

Vito rolled his eyes and glared in the large man’s direction, “Sure, because your life depends on ten dollars- don’t cross me!” he growled before slamming the front door shut behind him and walking out into the streets. Vito could still hear the man’s voice even after he had crossed the street, but he didn’t even care to look back.

The man was moving aimlessly about London, no actual destination in mind. He inhaled the air, only to find that it tasted foul- how far had he wandered off from the better half of London? “Lovely…” he spoke under his breath and slipped his hands into his pressed pockets, his skin and clothing slowly paling with each step he took; his thoughts were too foggy for him to even consider concentrating on keep his appearance the way it was…

…and so he walked down the streets, the sun low in the sky, and searched for the right turn in order to get himself back to Satin’s. Way to ruin a day, Jack, way to ruin a day.