How absolutely rhythmic and predictable his lovely little Aldenville could be. Villains, kings, road trash- they all came and went, murdering and claiming things... pretending they could actually tame this city, make it theirs and in their image. The idea, of course was laughable... and why they never lasted. Did he get angry over the various so-called 'threats' to his city? Never. They weren't worth the time of day or night, ever. Those types always came and went- they didn't understand the use of such men as John Alden or even the covens and the packs. It was the real beast- the real bureaucrats of the supernatural world that needed to be outed.
Witches. A fascinating and often engaging menace upon the supernatural race it was they who really held control over things, manipulating from the shadows while the mongrels fought for the scraps. Lycans and vampires- it didn't matter. They had to have a front to their business. Lies. Even his beloved club had a tone of lies to it. Witches? They could parade their works before the masses like some sort of hilariously satirical side show to the churches of the world. Praying to the saints sometimes worked... but why not throw in some lilac just to make that prayer a bit more effective?
His obsession with the witches' council and everything to do with the society behind the hidden world was by no means wavering- nor was his interest in turning every rogue element he could manipulate into something against the witches council in every way. His new interest? Bastian- an all together murderous and wonderous addition to the always growing supernatural demographics. The male was obviously lot in thought and while he was, in the Marquis' own tastes.. disgusting, he could manage it.
"Pushing small boys? Come now.. there's many more interesting things that could be pushed in a city such as this." If there'd ever been a stereotype of a vampire, Marquis was it. Smooth and polished into something of a refined monster, he stood out in the streets in his tailored and immaculate suit, though still restraining enough edge of a violent tendency that no matter the suit, no matter the almost modest approach, it was more than clear exactly what kind of man the Marquis Del Mourir could be.
[if this had been actually held for something let me know.. I just needed a bit to do with Marquis so I don't mind deletin' and takin it elsewhere.]