Re: Log, Webster's Vinyl: Daniel W & Newt P
Certainly, Newt would be wise not to mention such a thing to Daniel as visiting another vampire. But one never knew: perhaps Daniel would attempt to find the civilized gentleman his grandfather had always hoped he would be, and he would only act like a spoiled child about it rather than a fanged tiger at the edge of a jungle.
The tiger surveyed Newt now, his dark eyes sober and investigative. By now he was used to Newt's manner of looking at his face, but Daniel was equipped to know that the man did it to everyone and not just himself. He had noticed, in his observant way, that Newt had no hesitations with the cat. The damned cat, who acted like Newt was the bringer of the dawn, Christ with his hands overflowing with fish. She purred like a grist mill, twining around Newt's varied limbs and leaving bits of white fluff all over his trim pants. Daniel's pants fit him quite as well, the sort of default thing sent by people he corresponded with by letter and had measurements on file. He had not yet managed to navigate clothing websites, and judging from his sober choices, he wouldn't know what to do with them if he did. His knees were unremarkable, though they were dusted with plenty of white fur as well, not as visible on the half-loosened white shirt. The farthest interior of his sanctuary, Daniel was always in some form of dishabille.
Daniel moved forward in time to catch the coat, twisting it by the collar as he had seen his countless butlers do and draping it along the edge of a chair where it commonly lay. He had time to appreciate the color if it, and wonder at its weightlessness, before returning his attention to Newt's face and lifting an eyebrow at the endearment. "Are you?" Daniel looked at Newt's throat, eyes growing ever darker, but after a moment he looked at the man's eyes again. "Come sit." He turned around without warning and moved deeper into the kitchen to put a kettle on, leaving Newt to follow.