Inanely, Lambert finds himself hoping aliens aren't real, too.

"You said you chose to serve one," he points out. "That make you a monster too?" It's a rhetorical question, of course. John's a dick, a certified stalker, and keeps too many secrets, but Lambert wants to believe he'd recognize an actual monster if he saw one.

Then again, it's not like he was ever a great judge of character to begin with. Maybe he'd just let himself get flattered someone was going out of their way to spend time with him.

"Who's 'they' -- the master it was talking about?" The Beast had seemed so certain about who he served, even without him saying a word. Lambert reaches out to grab his arm, running a thumb ober the feathers sprouting from his skin. "He give you these?"