Lestat saunters into the hall of the Mansion and stops short when he reaches its centre. Then placing his hands on his hips, he shouts to no one in particular. "I'm rather bored, and could use an adventure to pass the time. Does anyone know of where I can find one? Preferably one that is grand and world changing, but I'll settle for something less
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Lestat leads him to the kitchen by the arm, treating him as if he were another aristocratic gentleman, politely taking no notice of his garb, or his smell.
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He looks with some sympathy at the man, being able to remember what mortal hunger feels like.
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The mention of food, however, makes him quite hungry again.
"yes, very. And I am not picky."
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After a few moment's thought, he opens the cupboard and reaches in. Out comes a prettily decorated plate with filet mignon wrapped in bacon, garlic mashed potatoes, vegetables stewed in a light and aromatic sauce and sauteed mushrooms. He reaches in again to find a bottle of expensive champagne and an accomanying glass.
Setting it down in front of the man, he sits on the other side of the table. "I hope you enjoy it. I can always pull out something else if you don't. Oh! And I can't believe I forgot; I am Lestat." He smiles warmly.
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"Was sick. Lived in New York. Had pneumonia or something, when i woke up, i was here."
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