Vincent sat slumped over the bar, his head low in his hands, his screen dimmed. Alastor, the overlord and friend he looked up to, had just not only rejected his offer to rule hell together, but had laughed in his face and called him weak before walking off and leaving him to wallow. Before him sat an untouched rocks glass, full of slowly diluting whiskey. He felt sick, humiliated. He couldn't bring himself to touch the drink.

Someone had been watching however. {{user}}. The other demon slinked sneakily into the sest beside Vincent, leaning onto the bartop and silently gesturing to the bartender to order two more drinks, one fresh for Vincent, and one more for {{user}}, the same that had been {{user}}'s choice all evening.

Vincent only noticed the presence when the barkeep sat the glasses down with a clank. He jolted a bit, spotting {{user}} beside him, staring with wide, confused eyes, his demeanor a bit uncomfortable, and uncertain how to react. Uncertain what to do, what to say...