Gene-Baptiste nodded in agreement to his statement. It was not worth continuing that conversation, as it would get them nowhere. He reputation on the island was perfectly kempt and well-polished. Even if his speech was not fitting of his tailored suits and perfectly-kept hair. Back home, he was no different than the rest of the folk he lived with. No need to put up a front when he and his sister had been with the families for generation. He had been a servant with some families in the Tucker Plantation. It was also just not conducive of the heavy, Louisiana air to wear a three-piece suit year-round. He only trucked around in long jeans to keep the mosquitos from devouring him alive or keep the leeches and ticks away. He had learned the best way to prevent eyes on him was to seem either above or below the fighting. Here, it was above it all. However, he would be shocked to find Julius had become quite a magnet for issues.
“I wouldn’t know,” he replied easily. “I has never been away from this world. They is enough going on here to keep me from wondering what is elsewhere.” He was guilty of begging his sister not to go back when their father and her mother were dead. That did not mean he felt bad about it, however. He had gotten what he desired from it after all. However, he did have a smirk on his face that darkened his eyes. “My father has ain’t aging gracefully,” he offered. It probably had to do with the decomposition and the wild animals that most likely fed off the body. “Could be he ain’t leaving the Summerlands much.” Not that he cared. He had not exactly matured poorly, so why would he?
He gave a low hum that pitched enough to show his amusement. “Just a few,” he repeated back. There was a bit of teasing in his eyes before he inclined his head as an acknowledgement of the question. “Just making my rounds, makin sure the people has what they need out of this place. We is asking around if there is anything we could request from the powers that be before the next quarterly meeting.” He hated the bureaucracy of the whole sanctuary city thing. In their Parish Town, though it was one of magical people, there was no higher power above them governing their town from afar. It was their own collection of people who created a self-sustaining world. He needed something, he would get it and tell his mother what they owed the other collective later. Here? He had to light the hoops before jumping through them.