Monty definitely enjoyed the dressing up part of some of his cons the most. Just because he was supposedly riffraff didn't mean he had to look like it. The others could look as shabby as they wanted, Monty would sooner go naked than not appear at his best. And he looked pretty good naked too, he personally felt and he was pretty confident Ishmael would agree on that.

Stubborn as a mule, Monty refused to crack first, focusing on his loot. He felt a thrill of smug victory when Ishmael got up and came over to him. I win, he thought to himself though precisely which game he was winning even he didn't know. The game of pride, probably.

The vampires closer proximity had his heart picking up pace a little, a phenomenon that had been happening more and more lately. It made Monty fairly uncomfortable whenever the fact that he had more than just a physical sort of attachment to Ishmael made itself known to him. There was definitely no way he was informing Ishmael of it either. That would mean Ishmael winning something over him according to Monty's logic.

"Of course. Shiny, pretty things are what I deserve in life," Monty said, ever the arrogant one. No one could ever accuse the con artist of being insecure. Combing through the rest, he finally turned to look at the vampire when he asked if there was anything for him.

There actually was something he had nicked for the sole purpose of finding a way to give it to Ishmael - giving it as an outright gift had too much meaning to it - but he wasn't about to outright say any of that. "Maybe. Done anything to deserve a reward lately?"