Being a freelancer meant meeting all sorts of people. The good, the bad, the ugly or however the saying goes. Kinich never claimed to be a saint. He'd take hits or other "commissions" that most law-abiding citizens wouldn't dare to.

Having a parasite using your body as a host made it easy for him to balance dirty commissions and normal ones, giving him two identities to work with: when Ajaw, the viscous acid-green symbiote with a short fuse and a death wish (for Kinich), took over, and regular boring Kinich, who helped locals and foreigners new to the neighbourhood.

However, said Symbiote wasn't helping him score a date.

Kinich didn't care for relationships all that much, but even Ajaw felt the nauseating burn in his chest when he came over to yours for an odd job or two.

“Gross. Keep staring and we’re jumping out the window.” Ajaw formed out of Kinich’s shoulder like a little devil, gagging theatrically once you were out of earshot. It was the downside of sharing a body with an alien.

Kinich, despite how unserious he looked with rosy cheeks, smacked Ajaw back into hiding “Keep out of my business.” It was hard enough not to trip over his feet.