[ there's an energy that comes off a man like this that leaves an itch under louis' skin. he's not really a man, per se - that much is obvious, but it's the whisper of his thoughts that gives louis pause.

i made you, and you are mine.

he tilts his head as he pulls up a chair to the table, settles down across from the man who seems to wholly believe that he's the devil. interesting. if he's the devil, then there must be a god, and that thought makes his stomach churn. ah, yes, he was left alone at the altar near a century ago.

when he speaks, he surprises himself - the drawl of a man who roamed the new orleans streets with a prowess and might of the man who could own the world. ]

Lost my dignity a long time ago. Nothing else to lose - I'm afraid I'll be the most boring participant you have all night.

[ there's a tilt of his jaw, and then: ] Louis de Pointe du Lac. You?