I try not to make it a habit to have my true feelings known - it is far more entertaining to leave everyone guessing, or better still, under false impressions. Especially when one lives, as I do, in a world filled with feints and subtle insult, careful innuendo and the most delicately shaded double-entendres. It is such a wonder, to see their little minds scurry about so, astonished by things just slightly out of their usual realm...
        I am walking now. I have not yet discovered where I am going. What has happened to me? I have long since mastered the art of poise, I have never in hundreds of years let down my guard for a moment and let any mere mortal see my true face, I have never lost my composure in public. Really, I am quite proud of this, for it is not always the case, even among us. Why, just a few weeks past, Mephisto entirely lost consciousness in the middle of a party! I do not know if it was the wine or some untold exertion on his part, but gracious, was it embarrassing! He did not even have the decency to lie still and placid in his slumber, his coma, whatever it was, I haven't the faintest when he even awoke, the party had moved on for some time before he found his way into the drawing room. I tried to engage him in conversation, to allow him the chance to brush off with some casual excuse his earlier embarrassment... but he was too stupid to see the opportunities I made him, the fool. I really do think he lets himself become too swayed by his relationships with these silly human children, it shall serve him a much-needed lesson when I attend that play in his place, and have my way with his little whim of the moment.
        I know how best to handle these near-sighted creatures - they are playthings to such as us, and should be considered no more seriously than a boy thinks of the stone he kicks down the street.
        A boy... there is a boy here. He looks at me curiously, and I hasten to avert my gaze and look terribly preoccupied. But it is too late, he approaches, and hails me. "Sir! Do wait just a moment, I..."
        It is then that I recognize him - it is Claude, that painter, whom everyone is simply raving over, the one apparently bedding the priest. An interesting child, to be sure, but not one whom I wish to become entangled with just now. "I am in a bit of a hurry, what is it you wanted?"
        "I... well I was actually just going to ask if you had the time, until I realized it was you. May I walk with you awhile? I was wanting someone to talk to, what a happy chance you appeared!"
        I roll my eyes in the darkness, and struggle to keep my voice polite. "I suppose you might. I am on my way to... to meet someone. But she may not yet have arrived, so I am not in a very great rush," I finish, almost with relief, having found a wonderful way to stall, and give my memory time to find the information it seems to be avoiding.
        "I see," he replies vaguely, quickly picking up on the discretion I wish to keep about the nature of my errand. Smart boy. But I knew he was intelligent - I have spent a bit of time with him myself, and know that it is not pure luck that has allowed him to seduce a man of the very cloth. Oh, I am simply dying to ask him about that! But I must find a way to couch it casually, it would not do to be seen prying, or, indeed, to show that there is a thing he knows that I do not. (Oh for those days in which that was truly the case! But our sight has dimmed, in the murky fog which binds this earth, and so our sight has grown... a little less comprehensive, a little less vast.)
        "But whatever are you doing out so late?"
        He smirks at me, falling into step alongside me. "I am hardly a child, though I know you think me one. I had... some engagements of my own, this evening."
        "And how is that painting going, the one commissioned by the priest?"
        His grin grows wider. "Why, it's really going quite beautifully. I have found some particularly striking models to paint from, and Mark has been such a dear about it all - why, he has even come to sit with me while I am painting! He is quite enthralled by the entire process, which is unusual in a patron, especially one with so many professional obligations." He shrugs nonchalantly, his voice light and confident. "But I suppose he finds me as fascinating as I find him. He certainly does seem interested in a great many aspects of my life - including my association with all of you."
        I chuckle. "I suppose he would... we are quite different from his usual associates, I should think."
        "Of course. And he would like very much to understand why it is you indulge in such earthly pleasures, giving no thought to others or the hereafter... but, between you and I, I think he really has a far better understanding of it than he lets on."
        "I had guessed as much. However did he end up in such a profession, if he is so drawn to the arts and such things?"
        "Oh, he attributes all beauty to God's handiwork, you know the sort. But I have made him swear never to do so with my works - I simply will not have him pass off all the credit on something I have put so much into, the work is mine, damn it all!"
        We laugh, as his remark was not entirely meant to be taken seriously - though we both know how very serious he was in his demand of the priest.