Mao quirked his fangy grin as he shook Rey’s hand. His skin was a little too warm, as though he had a fever, but he didn’t, of course. He was a small thing with slim and dainty bones, though he could crush the woman’s hand like a bundle of dry twigs. He kept his strength in check, shaking her hand with an equal firmness to what she gave his.
“People say Repose is a helluva place. I guess we’re part of the strangeness, huh?” A little shrug. Mao had heard lots of things about the town, but he always seemed to miss out on the juicy stuff. This was only the second time he had ever met someone different in the flesh.
Friend Mao? He laughed, “You’re weird.” Pot meet kettle.
Mao had no filter, but he didn’t mean any insult. Her invitation to dance was accepted, “But sure, why the fuck not?” The music had changed again and Mao commenced a silly little caper, circling Rey. “Got any requests?” Marilyn Manson wasn’t always to everyone’s tastes.