Tybalt does not look put together. His hair is just as charmingly tousled as on any other day, and he's in a t-shirt. There's people in suits here. It's possible he's underdressed, but if it's occurred to him, he doesn't look as though he knows it. He's standing like he thinks he's a model, curling near Lydia like maybe he'd lean on her shoulder if he wasn't about half a foot taller. He does move in to steal a cookie from the corner of her place. Because it's her, he's careful to not send the whole leaning tower of snacks tumbling.

He examines the stolen treat, flipping it over twice, then into his mouth, like he's testing out the theory. Unfortunately, he doesn't drop dead. "They're creatures of superior intelligence," he points out, mouth full, "wouldn't that be too obvious? It's like announcing they're here."