He stood over the man, watching for any sign of consciousness. The men who he'd been controlling had suddenly come back to themselves, and he dropped the stool, closing his eyes for a moment. Running a hand through his hair, he stood, catching his breath, until he heard movement above the sirens, which were coming closer and closer.
He turned to watch as Anna moved behind the bar to tend to her hand. When she announced that the man had wanted to die, Remy nodded. He could feel that in him. The emptiness. As much as his powers gave him a rush, the man didn't want to have to live with them. He seemed as scared by what he could do as everyone else was, and he wanted it all to end.
"Oui, also true," he replied, taking a step toward the bar. He couldn't quite tell whether or not that was good, bad or neutral in her book, and he moved carefully, making sure to not seem at all predatory. He followed her gaze to the man on the floor and frowned. "Some people... guess sometimes it's just all too much for some people."
He immediately snapped to attention and threw his hands up when the door opened and a handful of NOPD's finest rushed in, guns drawn. They weren't exactly the people Remy was hoping would ever run into him, let alone at the scene of some crime, and he sincerely hoped they weren't going to insist that he make a formal statement. Then they'd need to know his name and occupation and all kinds of other details, and they'd probably pull up his record and have him sit around a while. All in all, it was the absolute last thing he wanted just then.