He is joking, he is making a joke, saying this very nerdy thing will calling Armand a joke. But he has won an awful lot of awards— the Pulitzers are just the best ones to brag about, especially these days when every dickhead with a Twitter account can declare themself a journalist.
But anyway.
They're about done, here, just a few more lingering, curious parties, who are wondering if they can get a cup signed or something else, interested in the oddity of Vampire Book Nutjob, but not willing to buy a book. Any other night, Daniel may have playfully instigated something. Tonight, he doesn't even consider it. He leans an elbow on the table, looks at Armand, lens-covered eyes flicking over him. Pleased that his maker is still here. It verges on smugness, in fact.
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He is joking, he is making a joke, saying this very nerdy thing will calling Armand a joke. But he has won an awful lot of awards— the Pulitzers are just the best ones to brag about, especially these days when every dickhead with a Twitter account can declare themself a journalist.
But anyway.
They're about done, here, just a few more lingering, curious parties, who are wondering if they can get a cup signed or something else, interested in the oddity of Vampire Book Nutjob, but not willing to buy a book. Any other night, Daniel may have playfully instigated something. Tonight, he doesn't even consider it. He leans an elbow on the table, looks at Armand, lens-covered eyes flicking over him. Pleased that his maker is still here. It verges on smugness, in fact.
"Impatient?"