( At that, he claps his hands — bark of laughter leaving him. )

Hot damn!

( A punch to the air, he grins — hand up with a few nods. )

Thank you, thank you. Let it be known that I, Dante, son of Sparda, not only slay demons, but slay in the kitchen as well.

( Chuckling and beaming all proudly there, he reaches over for the bottle of wine then and cracks that baby open, pouring his dear brother a rather generous amount there in the glass he has set out for him because, you know, it pairs well and all. Or so he figures. )