[ Valmont's been out Christmas shopping, if you can call it that. Buying a present for one person, who doesn't even celebrate Christmas, more like. But caring about even one other person is thirsty work, and after all that he figures he deserves a drink.

He's not looking at the barista as he approaches the counter, baristas being common people beneath his notice. So it's only when he's right in front of him that he recognizes who he's dealing with. ]

You - ! The one with the furry pants!

[ He'd... never gotten the man's name, had he.

Well. It doesn't make sense to refuse to patronize someone just because they can't dress themself. And besides, he's thirsty. ]

I do hope your drink-making skills aren't as utterly abysmal as your... fashion sense.

[ He pauses doubtfully before those last two words, as though he isn't sure that whatever Cecil has going on can even be termed "fashion sense". ]

What are your options, then?