"Marie it is," he nodded. It would be a little bit of an adjustment to not think of her as Anna, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. Couldn't really begrudge her the safety net of having a fake name, either. After all, he still wasn't being completely honest about his appearance. Sometimes you just needed padding.
"Lots of these folks got history," he replied, nodding toward one of the large crypts. "In there's Marie Laveau. Voudou priestess back in the 1800s. Probably ain't all as exciting as that, though." He nodded at her recollection of the man who'd died in the bar. Drinking rarely brought out the good in people.
He nodded as she spoke about her mutation, working through it in his head as she explained it. It felt like hell, that much he could easily pick up, and he looked down at her hand when she pulled it free, noting the band-aid still in place from where she'd been cut. He frowned as she mentioned how she couldn't sleep and that she still felt some of the man from the bar.
"You don't have to," he replied, shaking his head. "From the sound of it, your mutation weren't like his anyhow." He held a hand out for hers. "Plus, that man was weak. I seen you in a bar fight now, without any kind of powers helpin' you out, and I can say for sure you're ten times stronger a person than he is."
"You gotta sleep though, chere. You gonna spend so much time worrying about things that be out of your control, you just gonna drive yourself mad." Even if there was good reason to worry, it wasn't going to help anyone, and it certainly wasn't going to make anything go away faster.