“I’m a boy. All boy,” Mao confirmed, though he wasn’t exactly in love with the term ‘boy’ now that he was twenty years old. Of course, that was all just short-man insecurity and the fact he was a pretty little thing that no one took seriously. Unless he was a giant monster cat. ...Or not, because Vaughn certainly wasn’t quaking in his boots, was he?
Honestly, he was surprised a comparison to Salem hadn’t come up earlier. He laughed, “What! Don’t tell me you don’t wanna be Sabrina! You know you do.” A pause while he thought of other famous talking cats. There were a lot of them, but not many that were black. “Or do you prefer being Sailormoon? I’m no fucking Luna, though.” Salem was more his speed, all sass and overconfidence. Luna was a no-fun bitch.
Making him purr? Wow, that was some risque talk there, and Mao was about to crack a bunch of jokes and tease and laugh all about it when Vaughn stopped him in his tracks by bringing up asian demons. His ears pinned back and he remained suspiciously silent. Maybe Vaughn wasn’t as much of a harmless idiot as he thought. Why the fuck did he know about kasha? Working in a morgue might mean the guy just had an interest in anything to do with corpses. Still, it was a guess that was a little too close for comfort. Mao preferred Vaughn to be clueless, thank you.
The moment of seriousness ended as he was then dubbed ‘Ash’. Mao grinned his approval. “I’m good with that. Groovy even.” Who didn’t want to be Ash fucking Williams, right? He let the ‘asian cat demon’ talk go by without comment in the hopes it would be forgotten.