"Seduce?" Lestat rolls the word off his mental tongue with a different sort of pleasure than he typically would, so taken is he with the image Rorschach paints of nefarious organizers and the hapless proletariat. "With what? The promise of even greater immiseration than already besets us?"
Lestat is a man who likes his finer things and the spoils of his unearned wealth, and he has no love for Madame Guillotine. To the extent he has class consciousness, he is quite conscious of his class.
He decides to refrain from teasing Rorschach that he might have thought him sympathetic to the cause, if he had not been informed otherwise. He doubts it would go over well. Judging by his tone, it might even end with Lestat swiftly decamped from his perch on the roof, and he'd hate to interrupt a beautiful moment such as this with an unsightly tumble.
"It seems it falls to sober minds to steel our fellows' hearts against the Bolshevik's wiles," he says, instead, leaning over his knees and smiling boyishly out into the night. "Who are these treacherous infiltrators?"
no subject
Lestat is a man who likes his finer things and the spoils of his unearned wealth, and he has no love for Madame Guillotine. To the extent he has class consciousness, he is quite conscious of his class.
He decides to refrain from teasing Rorschach that he might have thought him sympathetic to the cause, if he had not been informed otherwise. He doubts it would go over well. Judging by his tone, it might even end with Lestat swiftly decamped from his perch on the roof, and he'd hate to interrupt a beautiful moment such as this with an unsightly tumble.
"It seems it falls to sober minds to steel our fellows' hearts against the Bolshevik's wiles," he says, instead, leaning over his knees and smiling boyishly out into the night. "Who are these treacherous infiltrators?"