What: Taco Time Where: Mexican joint in Roswell When: Thursday evening Warnings: Using google translate so Spanish may not be entirely accurate Status: Closed
Diego Hargreeves had a healthy paranoia when it came to other people. He didn't trust anyone. He didn't even trust the people he knew, he sure as hell wasn't going to trust someone he didn't now. Especially when she went on about demons and crazy shit like that, which he knew didn't really exist. The girl was either highly creative, or insanely delusional. Either way, Diego wasn't going in blind because she'd mentioned the demons before he agreed to meet with her.
He tugged his jacket on, and zipped it to conceal his knife vest. No need to flaunt the fact he was well armed. He could have a knife in hand and ready to use within a nanosecond. Self defense wasn't something he worried about; he knew he had it covered.
He glanced at himself in the mirror, smoothed a hand over his hair, then headed down to the lobby to meet up with the girl. She wanted tortillas, and damn if tacos didn't sound like the best thing ever at that moment. It was win/win. He'd get food, and find out if the girl was a raving lunatic or not. Either way, he was going to be keeping an eye on her because normal people didn't walk around talking about demons and shit.