Moonbeam's next target had been Daimon, who'd been watching outside the festival periphery with mild interest. He'd only been passing by, but was amused to see that a new religious movement had begun to form in his absence. He took the pamphlet the woman gave him and listened to her, so far, Millenarianistic gospel, this talk of evolution of the universe, and eventually surmised that this was a Doomsday cult well on its way to becoming destructive if they didn't hop the fuck off this monster train. Daimon knew how these things worked- they were accepting these all sacred gifts now, eventually these children of the universe were going to want to give back.
When Moonbeam took his hands in her own and mistook his cursory interest for serious consideration, Daimon pulled away, great, yeah, I'll give it some real fucking thought, and side stepped around the woman now chanting at him. He shook his head and turned away, grimacing at the front of the booklet. "What the actual fuck?" he questioned aloud, glancing up and realizing there'd been an audience, regarding the woman sitting on the bench with raised eyebrows.