Somehow, the arts-and-crafts borderline cherubic look didn't strike him as some sort of ironic, subversive fashion statement purchased at Stylish Occult. And it was a little too early to start getting ready for All Hallows' Eve, let alone... that one holiday in late December he half expected to burn his tongue if he spoke it aloud.

Even in a place like this, even on a day where people were behaving very strangely, this was a strange look for her. A strange air. ...except for being entirely engrossed in her phone. That part, at least, was comfortably familiar.

He sighed heavily. "Okay, I'll bite. What are you going for here? All Hellhounds Go To Heaven?"