[Being someone who was raised under the scrutinizing eye of strict Catholic parents, Miguel would rather push aside any and all of those kinds of thoughts. Besides, such talk would not do him- or his reputation- any favors on the streets he was so fond of belonging to anyway. Miguel does enough to make his family ashamed of any connection to him in other areas of his life anyway. It's almost funny; they wanted him to wear black like clergymen, once... but how can a man wear black when his blood is red..?]

[Anyway.]

[Miguel is beginning to suspect that there may be something a bit off about this fox-head-wearing-man-in-ancient-Roman-clothes. It's not that he believed or feared the man's threat so much as how easily those words even came to mind that was slightly brow-raising. Still, he tried not to let any particular reaction show on his face.]

But I'm the filthy degenerate, eh?