( Klaus half limbos into the car, now fixated on the bight lights above them. Perhaps something resembling... what is something he'd stumbled on in France. Cash Cab? It is mesmerizing in this state. As if on cue, he waves a hand, taking care of his seat belt. )

The coordinates are included Quentin. Let the driver use his eyes. ( And then his train of thought rejoins the track. ) In some ways, I was different and people did fear me because of it. Or, they loved me less. I was the bastard. The weak one. The artist. But I became more. Perhaps, I was always meant to be more.

( It went deeper. People feared him because they needed to fear him. Because his paranoia knew no bounds, and his punishments had to be harsh. He laid in wait for over a thousand years, just to break his curse. And he hunted, chased, and ran, himself., )