[ The air outside the parlour is fresh and cold as it hits Daniel in the face like a bucket of ice water. The lingering threads of the blinding rage he'd felt are still lingering in his chest, as is the faint taste in his mouth of caramel starting to turn sickly with sweetness. He scowls, not really thinking about where he's going other than away, and from what? From Armand? No, Armand he couldn't get away from no matter how hard he tried, and he's desperate to talk to him but even someone as impulsive as Daniel is knows there are much better places to have that particular conversation. From the parlour, then? Well, yeah, there sure were a whole bunch of people in there who are bound to remember the crazy guy who started screaming for no reason and hefting people onto the floor.. Not to mention the drugged ice cream. What kind of fucking place is this??

The weight of his discovery sinks in moments later and he's just about to turn around and retreat back to the bar when Armand steps out of the shadows like some kind of twink Nosferatu, and Daniel halts before colliding with him. ]

Given up on what, the chasing? You tell me if we've given up on that or not.

[ Daniel takes in the sight before him, yes it really is Armand and yes this really is a place neither of them are familiar with. Daniel isn't even convinced he's still in San Francisco at this point. He might even believe this isn't Earth. Maybe just a really bad trip. ]

You drank from that guy, huh. [ It's not a question, Daniel can see the blood at the corner of Armand's mouth and the flush to his pale cheeks bringing out his light speckling of freckles. ] You took your anger out on him. [ A loss of control, like Armand had felt when he'd been overpowered. And how the sweet fuck, exactly, had Armand been overpowered? And why does the thought of it make Daniel so afraid? ] What's going on with you, how didn't you sense him coming?