Wafflinator
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“...The old Don Quixote- Er, y-younger one? The one with- …Sancho.” Despite all his preparation, the words tumbled out of his mouth in a confused mess. His shoulders slumped down and I could practically hear him internally chastising himself. He took another deep breath and tried again. “The Sancho we met, and the memories of them that the Golden Bough showed us… they somehow looked like a completely different person, right?”
I nodded, silently urging him to continue.
“Even besides the red eyes and fangs, their hair was all wild, right? A-and the fancy clothes they wore, and that attitude…”
I nodded again, unsure of where this was going. Sinclair looked like he was sweating as he nervously gulped.
“W-w-would you say it all seemed more… M-masculine…?” He asked, practically wincing as he uttered that last word.
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Just what is a Fixer to do when a Bloodfiend is beset by insomnia?