#seekscryptids

     IT’S NOT the most flattering look he’s been caught in: messy haired and bleary eyed, clad in little more than a faded t-shirt and sweatpants, bereft of his iconic make up save for the sloppy swath of foundation smeared across his forehead in a hasty attempt to cover the marking underneath it.  The desperation of the situation lends him to forgive himself: after all, he’s encountered an intruder meandering through his expansive backyard.  

     NOT THE first time a fan has stalked him in his own home, and he certainly doubts it will be the last.  He shines the blinding white light of his phone at the trespasser, a livid scowl on his tired features and his free arm tight against his chest as he shivers slightly in the night air.  ❝ This isn’t the best way to make a good first impression, you know, ❞ he snaps.  

       squint, squint.  tegan doesn’t process things well--that happens, you know.  lot of knowledge in that brain of theirs.  any extra knowledge makes them have to reboot (almost like a computer, like a robot--but it’s a good thing they aren’t!).  “agent, i respect you and what you do.”  hell, they mean it!  it must be weird to hear tegan be genuine in a compliment.

“what i don’t respect is the fact you’ll just dump--whatever the hell you’re going on about on anybody.”  but...they aren’t mad.  after all, they’ll do the same goddamn thing.  “now.”  a sigh, skin between brows crinkling in confusion before they relax.  “--what do you need me for.  obviously, you must be here for something.”

EYES ROLL, though the greeting is beginning to become familiar despite his own best efforts to get the ‘mister’ dropped. The coffee, however, is well received. Brought to his own lips with a satisfied, soft hum. As much contentment as he’s willing to show for the time being.

in all seriousness tho. it looks like a monitor lizard

Stern, for the second time today, nearly ruined his mission, but luckily, Prosciutto was able to dispose of his target’s body carefully enough before the paranormal investigator interrupted him. Tell-tale gloves adorning his hands with blood still drying on them probably told Stern the entire story.

“Are you a stand user?”