"Mmmhmm. I'm Dietrich, Dietrich von Lohengrin," Dietrich re-introduced himself, surveying the man sitting on the table. There was something different about him. He wasn't like Mein Herr, he knew, nobody was like him - a creature of pure destruction and beyond the labels of good and evil. The only one he had admired enough to serve. Though, he was different. Small gestures, Dietrich had observed, experimented and manipulated human beings since he was six years old, he knew their way to carry themselves and the look in their eyes. Oh, he had all the night to discover what was.
He sighed. “Oh, was it too obvious? I am too spoiled from the flavor of my homeland,” he replied, uncaring to pursue this subject. “If they are so terrible, they’ll bring out their own doom. I like the pillars, they are very classic, and the view.” He pulled a chair of Damien’s table and asked. “May I sit here?”