[ Boundary pushed and thus held, Jean-CLaude cedes gracefully, taking in this new challenge with a longer silence. He gazes at the display, falling still, in that way that is almost meditative for vampires his age. ]

It has been a long time since someone has suggested to me that being a monster is no more than a label, [ he says finally, revealing some small piece of his thoughts. With his stillness, his skin seems to become almost translucent, with no blood beneath to fill the veins; he has not fed in a few days, relying on ambient lust only for now. ]

It seems, especially, that if you have experience with the monsters, you must either have more to judge on... or count yourself one. [ Jean-Claude's gaze cuts across to him abruptly, piercing, the blue gone deep as midnight, his voice composed and remote. ]

Which is it, Monsieur?