"Your wings, my dear Pixie." He stopped a moment, only smirking in confidence and something excessively predatory. "They look good on you, but I'm sure they'd complement me much better." Setting the chainsaw down by his feet, Grell took a moment to press on his fake eyelashes and pull off his round glasses, tucking them into the black coat crumpled on the floor. He idly scooped his red woman's coat from its place behind the ruined couch, sliding it on easily but allowing it to hand at his elbows - he pulled the sleeker red framed glasses out of its pocket and placed them on his face.

"It's just a shame they're attached. Taking them off is going to be more difficult that way, but I suppose I really don't have anything to complain about." He gave a tug on the red ribbon and pulled it loose, letting it flutter to the ground limply while producing a (red) comb to brush the brunet out with, admiring the way his own hair turned a deep red color. "At least the work is something I can enjoy."

He flashed her a grin, the most terrible shark-toothed one he could muster while scooping up his chainsaw again and hefting it over his shoulder effortlessly.

"My scythe is unsatisfied with the recent blood it's had - bourgeoisie, mundane, far too easy to chase down. A long draught of mutant blood could be something new!" Grell chuckled gently, flipping a lock of hair over his shoulder and then giving a coy wink. "So don't be boring prey, Pixie. It would be such a shame to kill such a close friend so easily."