I almost forgot to mention I cut my hair. I’m growing out my natural hair color and most of the black is gone. So I guess the Princess of Darkness has gone on a hellish crusade, Apocalyptic Joan of Arc, at your service.
(Also I can’t stop shaking my head and flipping my hair around because it’s so fluffy but I need to stop. It keeps making me dizzy.)
Look at this sulky vampire.
Nick kissed the curator he was talking to for a case and nearly bit her. So now he’s at home alone in the dark, drinking blood straight out of a wine bottle, and watching Bela Lugosi movies, until Nat comes over and tells him to snap out of it.
This scene is funny enough on its own, what with Natalie not having a single ounce of tolerance for his angst-fest, which threatens to ruin all the work she’s put into curing him. But then I noticed the shirt he’s wearing. It’s all drape-y and billow-y and old fashioned, like a poet’s shirt.
He wasn’t wearing it earlier when the incident happened.
See? He’s got on a black leather jacket and a blue button-down. Which means he came home and deliberately changed into a more suitably vampire-y shirt for his vampiric angst-fest. Does that mean poet shirts are the vampire equivalent of yoga pants?
That also begs the question…where did he get it? Has he been holding onto it for 800 years? If so, why? And how has it not fallen apart in all that time? More likely, he had to have bought it recently. From like one of those Noble Collection-type catalogs that Ren-fest people buy their costumes from maybe? (Now there’s an image.) So either he’s been holding onto it for 8 centuries or he bought it specifically so he’d have something to wear whenever he wants to sit in his apartment watching old movies and feeling sorry for himself.
See Nick? You are human. Keeping comfy clothes around just in case of angsting is about as human as it gets. The only thing missing is a pint of Haagen-dazs.
The Paradox Machine 