{ louis welcomes the differences between them, and finds talking to another variant of a vampire kind is strangely calming for him. he sees the visual surprise and decides to slightly tilt his head. through his horizon form, there’s the illusionary of the louis who spent decades becoming colder, trying to keep himself together despite it. }

I wish we would have had them. We are too few. It’s elder vampires with far too much power that decide. There are rules in a vampire society one cannot break. Turning a child is one. { he purposely takes a drink of tea again, finding the flavor great even when cold. the clank of the cup on the table is soft. } Killing your sire is another. Otherwise, as long as our actions don't expose us, they do as they please.

{ it’s a shame that there isn’t a way to control it beyond the nature of becoming powerful as a vampire ages. they can’t kill their own unless absolutely necessary, a rule of which louis broke. }

It isn’t ideal. Before I got turned, I thought the Devil was in my head. People had begun to see me as one when I didn’t age. There’s worse out there beyond superstitious notions. I’ve done terrible myself, but I hope to continue to right it.

{ he pauses, taking a glance over to the coziness of the kitchen. }

I’ll take you up on your offer to use your kitchen if you’ll have me again.