#⊹ 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝟏𝟏 » the vampire lestat.

[vienamoi]

continued from here !

𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥 half a mind that does not care much about his actions ----- he's on a tour currently exposing vampires laws &* lore , completely ignoring every reason not to. his mind has been erratic for over forty years -- since he believed he'd lost louis too , that night in september. when @hechose hadn't told him what was happening. hadn't told him if louis perished. 𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓮 for that damned trial -- a 𝖏𝖆𝖇 at the fact he'd won louis. LIES , but when stacked against lestat's sins . . . he'd thought he was doing the right thing , leaving louis in softer hands than his own.

( at least it would keep louis away from lestat. 𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒊�� 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎. louis was smart enough to figure out the lies. maybe when he did , 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑. )

but here they were , all battered &* bruised from the decades. seemed no choice lestat made ended very well. so really , what's the harm in a display of strength ? a reminder that even when lestat's choices end badly , he is still the one made the choice -- 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖆𝖈𝖙. so he smiles predatorily , &* in a quick second , he has his hand around armand's throat , lifting his thin frame up from the ground in such a sharp motion that the mortals around them gasp &* step away. ❛   𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓃. it is not a threat , little one. it is a promise. ❜

[vienamoi]

the outfit sparks something in him ------------- that aching feeling of being known by louis in a way that he never has never been known before ( * or since. ) draws a smile to sharp lips while a fondness touches his eyes. he plays the part -- dresses up in his last outfit &* gives everything he has left to making sure he is worth louis' valuable time. if his brand was going to continue being a success , he needed to do his very best. he would not abandon louis to his fate of every vampire in the world coming for him. no , they'd go down as a family ( * as they should have so many years ago. )

when it is said &* done , lestat reappears in his casual clothes -------- a ripped up pair of black jeans paired with a cropped green shirt that has a band's logo faded in the front. it shows off his midrift in a way that would have absolutely scandalized the old world. a modern leather jacket is shrugged on as he approaches. bracelets &* rings still adorn his wrists &* fingers ------ he has not abandoned all of his old ways. ( * though to call his clothes cheap would be a lie ------ they're designer , no matter how tattered they may look. )

❛   ravenous. ❜ cuffs of his jacket are fiddled with , buttons snapped into place. ❛   i suppose you're still on your special diet ? ❜ lestat has only recently returned to mortal blood since leaving their estate behind. he'd not thought he deserved more than rats in the gutters for decades. his eyes catch on the collar of the others jacket as recognition flickers through his gaze. he reaches out , unthinking , &* pinches the leather collar between forefinger &* thumb. a faint smile is earned. ❛   magnifiquement soigné. ❜ blues roam the expanse of the garment , touch featherlight as he slips fingers along the smooth fabric as he admires it. ❛   i always liked this one. the smell of leather reminds me of you. ❜

his hand falls away as he remembers that they are not those people -- they do not stroll the streets of storyville or share cigarette's on park benches in the cold of winter. they are celebrities with a world watching them -- as much as he is screaming louder to draw the other vampires from hiding to spare louis the brunt of his novel alone , he has not expressed his reasoning to louis. they do not have that old familiarity anymore. he is not his to touch freely. ❛   should i find my own meal before joining you ? i don't mind. ❜

( ♟ )⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛  last  quick change,  a  couple  more  photos,  puis  c'est  fait.  promise,  ❜  louis  says.  in  trisha’s  hands  is  a  metallic  clothing  rack  donning  a  plethora  of  outfits  —  an  indecisive  person’s  nightmare  —  but  upon  lestat’s  interest  in  his  opinion,  the  selection  narrows  down  to  one  look  in  particular.  color  looks  good  on  his  favorite  muse,  complimenting  the  preternatural  blue  of  his  eyes,  the  fair-toned,  muscled  flesh  of  his  body.  but  black,  a  color  growing  more  and  more  popular  in  gothic  and  grunge  revival,  is  what  louis  gravitates  toward  for  the  final  shoot.  ❛  you’re  right,  i  do,  ❜  he  says,  retrieving  a  special  number.  he  would  be  lying  if  he  said  he  hadn’t  thought  of  lestat  wearing  it  their  whole  shoot.

it’s  a  black  drop  neck  one  piece,  bordering  barely-clasped  vest  designed  to  reveal  the  smooth  pallor  of  lestat’s  chest  and  torso.  black  sequins  to  hug  his  flanks,  iridescent  and  geometric  beads  to  accentuate  his  narrow  waist.  silver  chokers  with  layered  necklaces,  a  chunky  cross  to  settle  against  bare  skin.  belt  detailings  sharp  enough  to  compete  with  lestat’s  fangs,  a  leather  jacket  to  match,  bedazzled  in  illustrious spikes.  ❛  so ...  whattaya  say?  ❜

... louis  wastes  no  time  wrapping  up  the  photoshoot,  exhaustion  and  hunger  clear  in  his  muse’s  shoulders,  his  own  shoulders,  too.  there  was  a  date  to  be  had,  and  work  was  still  work.  he  and  lestat  are  yin  &*  yang,  ebb  &*  flow,  moving  together  like  a  well-oiled  machine  to  get  the  perfect  shots  for  a  future  magazine  spread,  posters,  and  other  fan-attainable  merchandise.  already,  louis  is  packing  away  his  cameras  and  light  systems  in  the  studio  while  lestat  finishes  up  in  the  dressing  room.

falling  away  are  their  personas:  louis  de  pointe  du  lac,  having  made  a  name  for  himself  as  a  famed  celebrity  and  concert  photographer,  dressing  down  to  just  louis.  clad  in  black,  donning  his  authentic  leather  jacket  in  deep  brown.  the  same  jacket  from  back  in  the  day,  new  orleans’  trolly  rides  and  crisp  nights  in  jackson  square.  he  fiddles  with  a  lighter,  sliding  a  cigarette  between  his  lips  but  never  bringing  it  to  flame.  he’d  already  set  of  the  sprinkler  system  once  in  this  place.  ❛  hungry?  ❜  louis  asks  lestat,  under  his  breath,  quiet  enough  that  no  human  ear  would  hear  him.

[vienamoi]

❛  you've always had a way of making me feel worthless.  ❜ + armand! / @pinksopaque

❛   𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄. ❜ a gentle tsk escapes the blonde as he picks absently at his nails. they are painted black but chipped to hell , matching the mess of black eye makeup he is dawning in his the vampire lestat wardrobe. what is the word -------- grunge ? so far gone from his primp &* preen of france &* new orleans. 𝔦𝔱 𝔰𝔲𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔢 --- 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚 &* 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧. everything about him is raw , like an exposed nerve. it's a bold choice of armand to come around after . . . everything.

❛   there was a time i was quite kind to you. besides . . . i could only make you feel what you already were ------ if you felt worthless , 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞. ❜ it is mean , but lestat has no intention of being kind to armand. no reason to show mercy. not when armand's sins against him have only piled &* piled. nicki , claudia , louis ------- 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒉𝒊𝒎 ?

[vienamoi]

❛   i wondered when you would make your way to me. ❜ lestat's tone is downright bored as he continues to scrub at half of his face with a makeup-remover wipe. he doesn't even really spare @devourcr more than a glance in the mirror. ( * he's not completely rude ! you should always look at your guest at least once. ) ❛   showing up in my home is a bold choice, though. i applaud you for the audacity. ━━━━━━━━ just be sure to keep your shoes off the sofa. that's genuine cheetah fur upholstery. ❜

[vienamoi]

❝ do you understand how little sense that makes ? ❞ + @wr1tten

❛   do 𝖞𝖔𝖚 understand how little i care about sense right now , louis ?! ❜ the frustration in the diva rocker's voice is unmistakable -- of course , it's accompanied by blood rimmed eyes , tears staining his cheeks &* making a mess of his makeup. this is the first time louis has come upon lestat's dramatics before one of his shows ----------- 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖚𝖓𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖔𝖓 ; it comes with the whirlwind of lestat's broken mind. but it is uncommon to his louis. what he knew of lestat de lioncourt was a temperamental , ostentatious man of the early twentieth century. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐞𝐬' 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡. he is prone to tears &* dramatics , a mess on the floor more often than not as he flies between catatonic , depressive stares versus loud , cocky bravado versus outbursts of anger versus 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬. he is trying to be his former self , but it seems his psyche hasn't quite caught up to his wishes.

pale hands wipe at his eyes , smearing 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 to the sides of his face as he turns back towards his dressing room mirror. ❛ how am i supposed to perform for those people ? they do not appreciate the artistry. they appreciate the abs &* the smile &* the beauty that is me. they'd enjoy it more if i were just naked before them ! i wouldn't even have to say a word. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐞.   ❜ says the man who praises his hoards of cultists fans on the daily ! 𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 ----------- but it does not end the emptiness in his chest.

he sings of his love for his family &* the heartbreak of losing his companions ; he sings of his life &* death &* how he'd lived such a pitiful human existence &* an even more laughable immortality ; he sings of betrayal &* lust &* hunger &* rage &* love &* loss . . . but they are more interested in their thirst traps &* fanatic screams &* endless amounts of merch ! he is not heard ; he is not understood. 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 ---------------

❛   i can't go out there. i am sorry my publicist wasted your time , louis ----------- you'll have to take your pictures some other time of some other pretty face to be plastered on magazines. ❜ 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 -- said only louis could capture him as he is. &* now louis was here &* the vampire lestat is splintering apart ! typical.

[vienamoi]

a soft , sharp breath is drawn in at the admittance. 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝. lestat knows where that fear comes from -- louis had slit les' throat &* watched him bleed out. for anyone else , that would have been more than enough reason to seek revenge on his former companion. but there has always been a war waging in lestat's heart where louis was concerned. 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞. it burned hot &* painful , even now. it had not died the day he'd nearly been pulled into death's grip. if anything , it had surged ---------------- he knew at the core of it all that it was claudia who wanted lestat dead. louis was confused &* hurt &* lestat was at the center of it. lestat could not blame him for partaking ; of thinking it was the only way out. lestat had hurt him badly enough to deserve that venom. &* 𝐲𝐞𝐭 ��𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

it could only ring true that lestat would have the same issue in seeking out louis' death in return. except in the end that was far from the case. 𝒉𝒆'𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆 -- to accept claudia &* louis' departure as an earned punishment &* for them to live their lives free of his torture. of course , he knew claudia's fate would be sealed when she came across armand. that snake was all too eager to bite. he'd tried to keep her from going to europe but she was as stubborn as he was. 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑.

❛ it's funny . . .   ❜ he starts , gaze turning towards his nails as he scratches absently at the piano. ❛ 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.   or . . . or claudia , for that matter. ❜ saying her name feels like acid in his throat. he does not deserve to speak of her. ❛   armand reached out when he learned i was your maker. 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆. i think that was when the wheels started turning. i knew there was little i could do for claudia except perhaps die alongside her for my own crime of creating her. ❜ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄. he can still hear louis' pleading that night ; the tears &* the way he'd clung to lestat's leg. he knew even then he'd be the one who would take the fall ------ &* that he would take it in stride , 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖎𝖘.

❛ he told me his plan to make a spectacle of you both to scare his coven into subservience for the law. he's been after me for a century since i scorned him , so i'm sure he was aiming to hurt me by involving me at all. i knew the only chance i had of saving you was to be involved in that stupid production.   𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. my power. ❜ his head shakes a bit , lifeless waves swaying with the movement. ❛   i came there to save you. i knew i could not prevent her death. i knew all i could do was spare you &* accept the punishment for claudia &* that would be enough. i knew refusing to do the play would result in both of your deaths guaranteed. armand never had any intention of sparing any of us. i don't imagine he's changed his mind. ❜

a sigh , then he turns sad eyes back towards his companion. ❛ so , no . . . i did not want you dead , louis. i wanted you dead far less than you wanted me dead. you saved me , &* i saved you. i chose to save you over claudia. 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡.   in that i failed all of us. ❜

" i don't know . " is all louis can offer to lestat as an answer . neither of them will ever know what that chapter of their lives might have looked like now ; he had been so blinded by the version of love armand had painted that he would have probably fought lestat ... but a seed would have been planted . perhaps he'd have found the truth out sooner ... perhaps he'd have left armand several years earlier ... back when there was still time for them . eyes left the makeshift piano to glance at lestat .

to watch him admit to being haunted by claudia and him ( just as he had been by him for all these years ) tugged at his heartstrings . the moments in which lestat was vulnerable always felt awfully intimate . and , despite the blond's infuriating cockiness , louis was well aware this sort of frailty did not come easily to him . through the imagined version of himself lestat had conjured up in his mind , he merely revealed how he truly SAW HIMSELF ( someone unworthy of forgiveness . someone unworthy of empathy . someone unworthy ) . louis thought of reaching out and touching lestat right there and then .

he hid his hands back in his pockets instead . " you should have let me decide that . " is what he manages while looking the other man in the eye . even in his dismay , lestat de lioncourt remained shockingly beautiful . and , because louis was painfully aware of this and of where they were , displays of tenderness had to remain leashed .

he cleared his throat . " i thought you'd want me dead . " this admittance came tumbling down from his lips before louis had time to really think it through . " thought that was the whole reason why you were in paris . " he pursed his lips together , slightly embarrassed at the earnestness of his words . but when louis spoke again , he did not sound the least bit sheepish . " if that had been your verdict , lestat , if you and i had been alone on that stage on that day and you had sentenced me to the sun for what i did , " emerald eyes shifted across the other man's features before giving a small reassuring nod . " that would have been fair . "

[vienamoi]

𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄. people no one cared to look for , sure , but people nonetheless. it shouldn't be a surprise -- 𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖊𝖙 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖛𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖒. not since their world was exposed by louis. now , he is doubling down on said exposure -- traveling the world with his rockband that screams the truth in front of people. &* 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ! a rouse. it rings of the theater he'd made a century ago , allowing him to kill on stage with the pretense that IT'S ALL FAKE !

of course , 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖌𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖇𝖑𝖊. some , like @magicrested , took it at face value. a real live vampire , coming into town &* killing real live people. so it's no surprise when there's a knock to his dressing room door after a show. his manager opens it ; announces a special guest -- a code word for someone he could feed on. usually reserved for the 𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 ��𝒖𝒎𝒑 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒃𝒚 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 ! ( unintentional ! some people are just . . . extra , as they say. who is he to turn down a free , easy meal ? if he is going to die for breaking all of the vampire rules , might as well have some fun first. )

❛   one of the more handsome groupies. that's a shame. it's always a disappointment to see a pretty one show up here. 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅. ❜ a sigh , then the singer turns in his chair to face the other. 𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 -- makeup half smeared &* curls wild from so much thrashing about on stage. a rockstar , fresh off his encore. ❛   was it a raffle or did you volunteer ? ❜

[vienamoi]

❛   𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 , use mine ----- ❜ saccharine tone accompanies a grin , canine tooth exposed with crooked lips. it is just after sunset , but the sky is still quite awake ------ instead of the warm summer sun of paris , 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 tedious enough rain that an umbrella was needed -- an umbrella that @rosewiltd did not have. &* really , what is lestat if not a gentleman willing to forsake his designer suit to water damage for the girl before him ? a stranger , sure , but a pretty stranger. his concert was not for some time , after all. there was time to kill. ❛   truly , i do not mind. where were you headed ? 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 , 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞. get us both out of this downpour , hm ? ❜

[vienamoi]

❛   SUFFER THE HIDDEN DEPTHS OF MY SOUL ? ❜ lestat can't help the wry grin that pulls his lips. ❛ oh , you are beautifully dramatic , mon ami.   i think i'll use that in one of my songs. ❜ a delighted , haughty laugh leaves the blonde. ❛   you can change yourself as many times as you'd like , but you will never fully change the depths of your soul , as you say. you'll always be whoever you are hiding in there. ❜ he himself will always be that french boy beaten down by his family -- the one that fears being left alone to die with no one coming to help. he will never escape that aching terror that still wakes him up in the middle of the day -------- that drives him to the horrors he has committed in a broken understanding of love &* devotion.

❛   who would you be , if you could change yourself fully ? if any other version of you were not known to a soul. ❜ he reaches over , fingers gently pinching a dark curl to admire the silken texture. ❛   would he resemble you at all ? ❜

for all of the ways lestat could play the part, the ego-driven, confident vampire, armand knew the story too well. knew the... horrors within lestat's history and stories. for every manipulation and distraction, there was a terror that would be beneath. a relatable detail that meant he understood the need now-- to pull away again. to turn it upon armand as if lestat's own ache had never been in question. it might cause another to lash out, to bite back. but armand merely sighed and shook his head.

"precisely. it is... far easier to keep people guessing. to... have them at arms length." a sad admission, but not one that armand would frown over. what was the point? feeling sorry for himself was pointless when it was in truth. a story he told, a part he played? that was different. letting it all be part of an act was different. the truth wasn't something about himself that armand liked to talk about. how could he, when so much of it was in fact lost? even the more recently rediscovered weren't things he was ready to be open about. so instead, it is a forced, tight smile as he straightens up.

"i wouldn't want anyone to suffer the hidden depths of my soul, lestat. and besides, who is to say those parts are the real me? why can't the real me be what i decide it is?"

[vienamoi]

❛ flatterer.   ❜ the word comes easily , even if lestat is left momentarily speechless at armand's shift. how the man could go from exposing nerves to complimenting lestat's ego is . . . confusing , to say the least. but that is the game , is it not ? back &* forth ------ never completely one way or the other in terms of predictability. hard to pin down. it is not so different from lestat's need for reinvention , but les has always worn that so clearly on his sleeve. armand is . . . reserved ; practiced. he has existed far longer than lestat -------- lestat's age doesn't reflect his time underground or holed up in lousiana alone. could one count that time at all ? he was not learning anything or talking to anyone or practicing his vampiric nature -- he hardly existed. ten years a vampire , a hundred in the dirt , thirty with louis , seventy alone ----------- with those in account , he's scarcely over a few decades lived. of course he is reckless &* dramatic ; he's practically still a fledgling himself.

❛   i can never tell with you if you are sincere. that is the point to it , no ? to keep people guessing. ❜ blues flicker over him , squinting. ❛   do you ever wish someone would know the real you ? or have you lost him entirely ? ❜

sometimes, it was incredibly easy to read lestat. even without diving into the other vampire's mind, there were times when those eyes told every word of the story within, of the emotions thrumming beneath the surface. all too often, lestat was... a lot. it was part of the draw for armand. but in moments like these, it very quickly becomes... sad. an ache somewhere deep in armand's chest and it would be all too easy to keep going. to pick at that festering wound and see how it unfurled a nastiness within lestat.

instead, armand softens. unlike with lestat, it barely registers upon armand's expression. a coldness and detachment that still remains, but it is instead his words that show it.

"i don't think you do, little prince. ego and performance does not hide the loathing in your soul. but it is misplaced--" a sigh, head shaking. for all the ways lestat infuriates him, drives him mad, hasn't he always felt existence that much more enjoyable with the other out there? "you are worth more than you accept. but if it takes the whole world screaming your name for you to see it, then... the spotlight is yours. it always looked good on you, i suppose."

[vienamoi]

peace. it is something lestat has never known. from the cold &* distant family with their abuse of the youngest -- to the burning , overwhelming firestorm that had been his little family in lousiana -- to the years alone in that decrepit house , wasting away in isolation. no point in his life has ever known a moment's pause. no moment where he was steady in place instead of constantly on the move. as a mortal , stillness meant his brothers &* father's fists. as a vampire , stillness meant starvation &* paranoia ; his mind must be kept active lest thoughts overwhelm him. fear -- he was born to this world in paralyzing fear. louis had his melancholy when he was turned of his own choice ; lestat had died screaming in abject horror as he whispered pleas to an unhearing god.

it is an easy chord to pluck ----------- peace is something he has always chased. ' live every day like it's your last ' is a beautiful ideal until one starts wishing they had died.

so his jaw sets , something akin to pain flickering in blue eyes. a nerve , raw &* exposed. ❛ i do not seek validation. i know my worth.   ❜ nothing. he is worth nothing. ❛ you &* i are not built for peace , armand. sharks must keep moving , hm ?   ❜

head tilts a mere fraction and there is something near serpentine about it. fluid. assessing quickly before face returns to plain, to a nothingness that could perhaps be almost equally as jarring to some. a slight tilt of a smile and it's part petty, part genuine amusement because hadn't lestat always been a fascinating kind of car crash? beautiful, captivating, for both his charm and void in equal measure.

"and yet, he continues to do so--" an idle comment, a shrug before eyes skip down, along stretch of finger, slowly moving till his eyes return to lestat's. "and will that finally allow you to find satisfaction, lestat? will that finally grant you the validation you have constantly chased?" said with a surprisingly quiet voice. no fear found amid it, but instead, if anything, a momentary flicker of something real, of feeling. "will that finally be what grants you peace?"

[vienamoi]

❛ you don't deserve even his acknowledgement , armand.   ❜ he should know ; lestat doesn't deserve it either. but louis is forgiveness incarnate ------ lestat's chest aches to think of the mountain louis climbed over ashes to reach the consensus to forgive lestat his transgressions. if it took exposing all of the vampire secrets &* drawing out every last ancient being from hiding to earn louis' forgiveness as they both burned for their transgressions . . . ? well. they'd die a family.

❛   you're wrong , though. about my passing fancy , as you say. ❜ he steps over , pointed , black painted nail tipping up armand's chin. ❛   the whole world will know my name. there will be no secret left unspoken. every last vampire will come for my neck ----------- &* yours , i'm afraid. ❜

smile spreads and he knows that lestat likely wanted that jab to land, to hurt the ancient vampire. but in truth, it's quite the compliment. armand has worked to construct his life, his situations. yes, to keep people at a length. and it had worked, hadn't it? over five hundred years. he doubted lestat would be capable of such a feat, to endure and survive it the way that armand had. hands tuck into pocket and he shrugs with a casualness that conflicts wildly with how he had been only moments before. "does it bother you? that you have so little control over the telling of your own story? creative thing you play pretend at being, but only ever so far. only ever capable of so much."

the briefest of pauses as eyes narrow before posture straightens once more and armand sighs. "well. that was an entertaining few minutes. i'll be moving on now. i am quite sure you're used to such things though, passing fancy that you are. send louis my best."

[vienamoi]

❛ there.   ❜ his grin only grows as amusement sparks in blues. his head cocks , blonde curls following the path. ❛ that is your worth. the way you reshape reality. it protects your fragile little mind palace, no ? keeps people from seeing you under there. ❜ chin jerks towards the other , gesturing to all of him.

❛ strange recollection of events you have. i came to paris because you called. i came to save louis like i couldn't save nicki from you.   i can see where louis learned it from ------ this . . . alteration of memories. ❜

he didn't need to bite back about the coven, about louis, not really. one was long gone, while the other... far more complicated than he could imagine lestat's mind capable of understanding. did he truly believe that even after how... explosive things had been at the end with louis, that it could be done forever, forgotten about? no, lestat's fragile ego likely wouldn't be able to handle such a concept, though the temptation was there to drive that knife in. in fact, the only reason he doesn't, is out of respect to louis.

so instead, armand ends up switching up pace. sigh comes before head shakes. "prosper? is that what we call burying yourself beneath the ground after one love chose death over even the notion of you? prosper, is that what we call crawling to me, to the coven when your next slit your throat?" brow raises, gentle hum coming, "strange definitions." a shrug then before armand sighs, casts a glance around the room again before letting gaze come to lestat as if suddenly, he were the last thing on armand's mind. as if he wasn't currently bleeding from metaphorical wounds from lestat's sharp tongue.

"my worth is something i am finally learning to rebuild on my own bedrock... but i see you're still building yours around others... i suppose we'll-- what was it? see how long it holds. before it shatters everyone around it, again."

[vienamoi]

❛   that would be your ideal , no ? 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 ? ❜ brow raises , a coy grin earned. ❛ in that lovely little book of your fledgling's , he said you always wondered how to make yourself . . . 𝖋𝖆𝖘𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌.   so much so that you tortured him just to try &* get a glimpse of what made him more deserving of louis' attention. as if louis himself were not with you simply to spite me. ❜ oh , how les loves his tongue being just as sharp as his claws.

a step towards the other , then another , like he's gliding across the stage floor. ❛   𝐲𝐨𝐮 &* 𝐢 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 , 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝. i endure ------ i prosper without anyone's help. you cannot stand on your own two feet without someone there to support you. your coven. louis. 𝖒𝖊 , it would seem. ❜ ( as if lestat himself does not dissolve into a sleeping corpse each time his paramour leaves. still , each time , he has risen above. ) ❛   𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 , 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ? what do you bring to this sad little existence of yours ? 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 ? ❜

lestat, in truth, had always been exceptionally talented at getting to the heart of a person. digging in and rooting out the best and worst of a person-- hearts desires, deeply held onto secrets and failings. lestat had such a way of shining a light on things... but it also meant that things like this happened-- that weapons could be directed with such precision that it felt destructive. ( but god forbid there ever be an ounce of self reflection, right? )

armand remembers smiling when louis had tried something similar decades before-- attempts at lashing words, attempts to poke at wounds within armand, only to discover they had no effect. in truth, armand's history, so much of it, wasn't some great open wound. at least not one that could be manipulated so easily. it took a finesse that so few had.

damn lestat for having some of it.

"and yet, you, like so many others still come back--" rising from the floor, their surroundings have stopped meaning anything. it would be a mere blink for he or lestat to make them all disappear, but they hardly even need such a thing. hardly as if their focus was anywhere else. "you claim there is nothing here, nothing of worth or attention but--" sudden choked breath and armand tenses jaw, teeth grit together. he was sick of it, sick of all of this. sick of a long lifetime spent with so little control over anything. did he not deserve to finally have a life that was his own? "but maybe that's it-- right? one void is drawn to another? emptiness sees emptiness?"

[vienamoi]

lestat has never been good at hiding his emotional responses. it is clear in the twitch of his lips , canting down into a slight frown at the echo of armand's mind ----- louis. nicolas. claudia. born to melancholy &* unrest. two given the choice ; one made out of love, but not for her. ❛   it does seem genetic , doesn't it ? ❜ he hopes it strikes pity in armand. he hopes it strikes anything in armand. ( * is there anything in him at all ? )

❛   art . . . i'm glad you learned something from me -- the beauty of humans finary. art, poetry, playwrights, musicians. mostly i am just pleased you left that crypt of yours. it smelled horrific. you're much more palatable now ----- smell wise, anyway. &* looks , i suppose. but you've always been easy on the eyes. ❜

even when he sat in begrudging approval of louis's interview, the thought of exposing what they were to the world ( not disguised as farce ) was vexing. perhaps the laws were still scarred in his brain, but he doesn't think he'd ever have wanted what they did. armand scoffs in response — at least his visit was without intended violence.

he doubts he could say the same for every vampire that hunted the rockstar ( he's relieved to see him safe ).

❝ is self-destruction a trait you pass to your fledglings? ❞ louis. nicolas. claudia. he refrains from saying their names, still eyeing the cheetah fur as if it's a nonchalant question. he looks up, amber gaze meeting lestat's again. ❝ unique. over the top — tasteless. you're right, it suits you. ❞ he smiles, saccharine. ❝ greige is neutral. a canvas for displaying art on rotation. ❞

[vienamoi]

lestat must admit , there is something thrilling about fighting someone like armand. it has been so very rare to actually get into fights with immortals --- mostly because of the limited quantity of them &* lestat's own disjointedness from their kind. he's spent so much time with mortals , asleep , or just with louis. seeing power that matches his own is . . . well , 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐰. there , in armand's mind , he sees the glimpse of that fire sparked once more as well. a button was pressed. a forward step in lestat's favor. so as he is thrown backward , he upholds his grace to catch his footing , simply sliding back into the crowd of humans. some of them topple over into each other , but he pays them no mind. keeps blue eyes sharp &* focused solely on armand.

❛   𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝑨𝑳𝑾𝑨𝒀𝑺 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 , like some petulant child playing pretend. nicki &* the theater &* louis &* the wealth &* comfort &* endless food source &* recognition &* for someone to find you even remotely worth anything ---------- 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔡. ❜

armand himself told him once about his youth -- it's how lestat got the idea to seek out marius , after all. lestat had been the one to lead the parisian coven out of the sewers. lestat had been the one to use armand to make nicki jealous. lestat foiled armand's plot to take away what lestat loved in that trial. lestat had louis now. ( certainly more than armand did or would ever have again. ) it's no wonder why armand is so intent on following his every move.

❛ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞. even now you claw at the nothingness under you.   there was never anything there ------- inside or out. ❜

somehow, those words are what does it for armand-- that causes that sharp kind of pain in him. like being dropped from a height. like feeling sun burning his skin. it is lestat's disinterest that gets him. the idea of not being punished-- of a great and vast nothing outstretching before him and. oh, he knew how it felt, didn't he? after all, hadn't lestat been the one plunged into loneliness? into isolation? he knew that pain, so damning armand to such...

his own eyes instantly squint shut the moment armand feels them prickle and sting because he refuses to give lestat the satisfaction. teeth are grit, tension held tight in armand before he-- finally moves. strength summoned that is perhaps doused in anger and frustration that is hardly just based on lestat. no, this is... perhaps even hundreds of years in the making. all pouring out of him, unleashed in a blow that frees him of lestat's grasp and tosses the other vampire back too. though there is no grace in how armand himself hits the floor still. nails clawing at concrete, snarl on lips before he glances over at the other.

"you think i wanted all of this?"