John half chuckled at that, and shook his head as he lifted the neck of his guitar slightly.
"I need other people's blood to live, now. I try not to do too much harm, but I'm no longer on the side of angels," he said, almost laughing, almost sighing heavily. He'd spent so long training himself to think like a good guy, to train himself to be the protector, that it didn't matter if he'd lost his soul or not. He shrugged slightly. "I try to do as little harm as I can."
He looked up, and grinned for real at the other, half shrugging. he didn't know what it was about the man. he certainly smelled strange, felt strange. But for the same reason he didn't mention Eric to his sire or sister, he felt a certain level of comfort around the other. Like two feral things that were wary, but curious enough to not make any sudden moves, or get dragged into a conflict. Something told John that knowing Eric and being familiar with him would cause a lot less trouble in the long run. If anything, Eric seemed to be some kind of supernatural outlet for John where there wouldn't need to be spilled blood. No hunting lessons or expectations. Eric knew what he was, that much was obvious, but as long as he was content to speak to John, and play a few tunes with him, John felt a certain ease with him.
"I don't feel evil. And if we don't feel that way, I don't see why things like us should act to standard."
There were moments where John could almost taste the different kind of blood that gave life to the other. But most of the time he felt like the most normal person John had spent any time with in a great long while. Emo dark rock persona put aside, of course.