Of course Armand lays upon him the implication of vampirism, of a kind, through journalism, slings a his jacket over his shoulder like a goddamn supermodel, and then saunters along in with a walk that makes Daniel want to tackle him to the ground.

He adores this beautiful gremlin.

"Let's see," he says, trailing Armand, rubbing his hands together. "I admit I was trying to what you'd find most heinous and unforgivable in appearance-- but holy shit, do we have a winner." He gestures broadly to the line of Rastafarian bananas, all of them grinning the empty grin of the damned from beneath stringy yarn dreads.

"I'll let you decide how much to destroy him. Terrible taste, but who knows? He could be running sketchy games to put himself through med school/"