[ Could dress up in a funny costume at kid's parties, sure. Wouldn't put his skills to good use. He'll leave the theatrics for Z. Stage work is something he left behind in his punk rock days. Sure, he can explain the lottery. He gets his numbers from watching rising smoke. It's a bit dodgy, not really an exact science.

Frowning over the wound, he huffs softly and then lets go. ] I can help you sort that if you want.

Divine, yeah. Proof of the existence of heaven and hell. Doesn't get much more able to prove than claw marks in your hardwood.

[ He expects confusion. He expects anger. Denial even. ]

Because this is what I do. This is my life. I can't make up for things that I've already gone and cocked up but I will spend every breath I have making certain that every last demon I can find is sent straight back where it belongs.