Eros aimlessly doodles very detailed genitalia in his notebook while not giving a single flying fuck what these noobs are talking about. he doesnt care, as he is not one to care about things like 'meetings' and 'people'. he lustfully puts down his pencil and shows off his drawing to the immediate vicinity. "yo uh i drew this how much would you pay for this." he inspects his masterpiece with his own green, blazing eyes of drugs. it is then he realizes everyone fucked off expect dior. making a tactical decision, he back flipped onto his medieval scooter and fucking slam dunked an elderly man. eros figures that was someone reliant to the plot so he is proud of himself.