interviewee | OPEN RP POST

Said I'm not hungry. [Louis calms the longer he plans out his own torture. It's a plan to move forward, even if it hurts him. If he does this then maybe his guilt will ease. It's a tried and true method Louis has used more than once.

He thrusts the bag toward Lestat, an insistence to take it.]

[I am the night. It's the last thought he sends out into the world before he closes his mind to it. He doesn't hear the anger that ripples through vampires all over the world, he doesn't hear the warnings issued in response. He opens his eyes and all is quiet.

For a few minutes at least.

Louis is on the way to the decanter of blood on a side table when he notices a shadow in one of the windows. Glass shatters around him and in an instant, he's pinned down by not one vampire, but multiple, baring their teeth and ready to bite down. Louis kicks off one, but the others tear into him without hesitation. The air is scented with his blood even as he fights for his life.

He doesn't hear the extra heartbeat separate from those on top of him.]

[sometimes armand thinks of cassandra and prophecy. melodramatic, he can all but hear daniel molloy scoff at him, his own personal shoulder devil sneering by his ear. still, there is a through line he can see after five hundred years of life. predictions he makes, warnings he offers, always ignored or cast aside. in paris, warning louis of what would inevitably come to pass. in dubai, warning both louis and daniel of what they prodded at with their absurd book.

armand remembers the real danger. not singular vampire, not uppity covens. he remembers amadeo, staring up at his maker so ancient and seemingly untouchable, being bombarded by cultist after cultist until he caught alight. there is the truth, it's numbers that they need to fear. the mob, like the santino and his ilk as they destroyed a vampire born before the death of christ, superior in every way and still lost.

it is why when the book comes out he finds himself back in dubai. daniel is taken care of for the moment, safer than louis, who mocks the writhing hive of the network. armand could leave it be, could attempt to grasp his hurt and petulance, spit 'i told you so' to louis' ashes but-

but he loves louis. daniel will not believe it, louis will not, but they are so young. they do not know what love truly is, the endless, horrific endurance of it. they do not know yet that eternity cannot keep grudges alive. they do not know that in another hundred year's time, another two hundred, three, that even claudia's singing ghost will fade between them.

the group is bolder than he expected. some are old but most are younger than louis, easy prey. the youngest go slack when armand comes through the window, minds pierced into a nearly lobotomized stupor as they fall groaning to the side. a hot, flaring anger pierces armand to see the ones still holding louis, one so close to his throat armand hisses and grabs the woman by the skull, ripping her back in a motion too quick for human eyes and tearing her head from her shoulders.

the remaining pair seem thrown, one still going for louis and the other scrambling to get to the window and away from the ancient creature all blood and teeth.]

[Louis isn't quite sure what's happening. One moment, he's under assault, buried beneath a cadre of vampires. He's struggling to fight back and then one vampire after the other collapses. There's still a fighter at Louis's throat, nails sharper than any scalpel, but with the help, Louis has just enough room to roll with it, to send his own clawed fingers ripping through the vampire's neck instead of his own.

The last of them scrambles out the window as Louis presses a hand to his side and looks up at his savior.

Red-orange eyes, dark curly hair, maple skin. Even while bleeding, Louis can tell who it is. The former love of his life, the liar of liars, the manipulator who put Steins in his photo book, who claimed he saved Louis's life.

Perhaps that's why he's here: to laugh in Louis's face for the interview, for his brashness, for his stupidity in breaking another Great Law.]

Armand. [The name is hissed through a tight jaw as he climbs to his feet.]

[the vampire that flees bursts into flames before reaching the window. armand does not look back, dropping the head of the vampire he's holding to fall on the floor in a wet thump. blood splatter across his clothes and hands, against his chin, so different from his typical methods. louis always did bring out the mess in him.]

Louis. [for a blood stained cryptid he sounds a little too subdued, staring for a moment before taking a step forward. he offers a hand, cautious, as if expecting the injured vampire would bite. maybe not physically, but louis does hold far too much power over him still.] You have lost too much blood, let me-

[a beat.] I can help.

[Louis can smell his own blood as he leaks from too many places to hold. His side is the worst of it as his pant leg is also rapidly soaked red.]

'm fine.

[He's not fine, he's draining fast and he needs some kind of help or he'll likely be face down on the new rug.]

How the hell-- [Louis tries to turn away but there he goes, his body drops to the ground with a wet thump before he can stop it. He's awake, but barely.]

[armand debates several things quickly- does he risk overriding louis' authority for his own good, and if he does should he slip into his mind to try and ease the process? despite what he assumes daniel and louis think he does not make a habit of using the mind gift that way. after all, if he did this interview never needed to happen, or at the very least daniel could be easily controlled through it.

before he can further assess the situation louis falls and armand's eyes widen in genuine concern, at his side in a blink.] Oh Louis. [he murmurs, resisting the very real and aching urge to brush at louis' jaw, cup it like he once was allowed.

the first thing he does is bite his own wrist- his blood will not fix this but it will stabilize. he lets it drip over louis' mouth, ancient blood he is far too familiar with.]

[The rug beneath is soaked with Louis's blood and spreading quickly. He stares up at the ceiling, trying to figure out a way out of this when there Armand is. Louis stares up at him, mouth half open when the familiar taste of his former love's blood graces his tongue. For a moment, Louis is passively drinking, but as soon as he has strength, he reaches up to grab Armand's wrist and drink to his heart's content.

He can feel his side stitching closed, the other various gashes seal, and his strength returning. Sure, he may not be ready for a decathalon, but he can get to their safehouse and heal up there.

Louis will still drain as much as possible, as much as Armand will allow.]

[armand likely allows too much.

how could he not? he's always enjoyed feeding louis his blood. it's helped his companion (former companion) grow stronger, and in turn a piece of armand now lingers in that strength, in louis himself. one connection that can never sever, one part of armand he can never abandon. and has louis not grown beautiful in his new strength? even more so, and armand closes his eyes a moment, only pulling away when the sting of louis' disregard shudders through him in ugly reminder.

even still he lifts louis gently, the good nurse. if he's strong enough to stand on his own just a helping grip on his arms - if he is too weak a full bridal carry.] To the safe house then. There are others still in the city, I can sense them.

[Louis drinks and drinks and drinks before Armand pulls his arm away. He takes a moment to breathe, to realize he's survived the attack before he allows Armand to pull him to his feet. He's practically refilled, but his wounds are not entirely healed quite yet. The safe house is the best place to go while still more vampires flock to Dubai.]

Yeah, fine. [Louis is still drowsy, a little off, but even he knows it would be stupid to shirk Armand's help.] Safe house it is.

[so natural to fall back into this role, the good nurse. he slips it on like a second skin, a worn coat as he leads louis from the carnage around. the smell of louis' blood is still too thick in the air, from his wounds that even armand's ancient blood cannot wipe away quickly. that these creatures got so close is a failure on armand's part, even if the wounded, petty part of him hisses at louis and daniel's foolishness.

petulant, in being turned away and forced to slink back from the shadows. ah, but love is enduring. surely louis will see that eventually, when the wrath eases.

no others come out of the woodwork thankfully, their trip quiet until he can get louis through the door. a pretty little place, another coffin to take to ground, and when the door is closed behind him he ventures to turn louis to face him.]

Let me see the damage. [somewhere between a bowed head request and the order from the nurse. such a strange mix, his low simmering fear and irritation at louis' attack and fluttering pleasure in being able to slip his way back into louis' sphere far sooner than he assumed possible.]

[Louis follows Armand down the winding way to the safehouse, ears open for the sound of anyone else approaching. They get lucky, he decides, when they enter the bunker like structure without running into anyone or anything else. In the smaller space, the stench of his blood becomes all the more pungent.

He sits down on the nearest couch to catch his breath and watches Armand for a moment before lifting his shirt. His abdomen and chest are littered with finger-sized holes or deep gashes that only half healed. A few are still bleeding, rivulets of ruby trailing down his chest.]

[armand's instantly on his knees, examining the damage with the faintest furrow of his brow. irritation wells in him, petulant and tired, turned to the vampires that did this, to daniel for perpetuating this nonsense and publishing the book. to louis for goading them.

the idea of louis' death is intolerable to him, even if he imagines louis would scoff at such a thing now. even he cannot quite put to words what it was to sit in that box, watching the trial, waiting to see what happened next. out of his hands, better not to think what would have occurred if louis was lumped with claudia and his fledgling. if he would have watched it all burn, should lestat have somehow managed to sit idly by as well.

he shakes the thought from his mind, tearing his thumb to press the bleeding wound to one of the injuries.] Your body is overtaxed, the blood can only do so much now. You will need to rest, and to not goad the masses as you have been.

[Well if this position isn’t familiar. Louis’s frown deepens even as he keeps his shirt lifted. There would have been a time not long ago where he would have been thrilled to have Armand on his knees like this. And Armand opens another source of blood, but the healing factor is at its limit.

He tugs off the remains of his shirt and tosses it toward the sink. They have a small collection of clothes in the safe room in case of something like this.]

I wasn’t goading them. [He was, he absolutely was, but admitting his own failings to a vampire that burned his daughter (and almost him) to death is not something Louis is capable at the moment.

He is drained, though, despite drinking deeply from Armand. He’s exhausted and his body aches from his wounds. Rest is not the worst suggestion.]

Why are you here? [Louis asks, brows furrowed.]

So your display before informing them all how to get to you and welcoming the challenge has a different name.

[he glances up at that, unable to keep reproach from his tone despite how shaky they are with each other. his eyes lower again, attempting to coax each injury closed as much as he can manage but getting very little done. he pulls back, hands slick with a mix of their blood.]

You know why I am here. [he doesn't want to say it and risk louis' ire. to protect louis from himself, because despite daniel and louis' insistence it is necessary. if anything this proves it.]

[Armand's response stokes Louis's anger and he's tempted to throw him into another something, but there isn't the room for it. Instead, Louis sets his jaw and tries not to move as Armand sets to attempting to close the remaining wounds with little success.]

Leave it. [He eventually growls and gets up to his feet about the same time Armand leans back. They have a first aid kit, never used, for this exact reason. He pulls it down from a compartment over the sink and starts taping pieces of gauze over the holes and gashes.]

You thought you'd play good nurse and get back in my good graces?

[It's not a good idea to piss off Armand right now. He's stronger in every way while Louis is exhausted and wounded. Nevermind the fact that they'll be in the safe house until it's, well, safe for Louis to leave.]

(ooc: Continued from here!)

[Once more, Armand reminds him that someone is here, present, after everything. He circles the other arm about Armand's waist and slowly pulls him in closer.]

Maybe both. But I want to finish, even if it means I bleed all over his manuscript.

[He wants Armand under the sheets with him, sharing warmth and comfort over a common trauma. They were both in that theatre and Armand could only watch as Claudia burned and Louis was dragged away. It was Armand who tried to talk him into running away, while Louis was mad with vengeance, talking to the corpses in the dark.]

[ Again Armand hesitates, not wanting to come on too strongly with his attempted persuasions. It would be far too strange a thing to beg for, after all, and regardless, far too degrading, even for him.

Very little is likely to change Louis's mind, besides, short of thinking that it's his idea to end the interview... which is still achievable, Armand thinks. Louis will just need a gentle touch to help get him there, as he's far too stubborn for his own good sometimes. Too prideful to know when to quit, even when it's the best thing he could do.

Armand will circle back. For now, he looms close, delicately working open the buttons of Louis's silk pajama top one by one. ]

You should forget about him, for now. Let me help relax you.

[Louis looks up at Armand, at everything he offers here and now. Louis's hands travel up to Armand's hips, slide beneath the silk there and feel the warmth of the body underneath.]

You're getting pretty good at this.

[His hands travel higher, up the bumps of Aramand's spine.]

[ Armand sighs with longing, and it's not a bit performative, either— rarely, with Louis, does he ever need to be. To Armand, Louis's touch is the closest thing in living memory (so to speak) he's known to peace.

He lets his eyes close, gurgling a soft, hungry noise. ]

Louis, [ he murmurs, lips pressing again to Louis's neck, hands trembling eagerly over flesh. ] Louis.

[ A kiss to his collarbone, now. Then another, slightly lower. ]

It is you who is the good one, between us. You make me better. [ He looks up to meet Louis's gaze, eyes aglow like lanterns. ] You always have.

[As Armand kisses around his neck, Louis's hands are busy hiking Armand's sleep silk shirt up. He pulls it up to Armand's shoulders before his hands wander back down Armand's body to his pants.]

Are you sure about that? [Louis tugs Armand's pants so they sit lower and lower around his hips, so they pool about his slender figure like a drop of oil. And that is what Armand is, he is the oil in the lamp of Louis's spirit that keeps Louis moving, going, living, even when Louis is burning the wick lower and lower.

If he can, he will reach down between them for Armand's cock.]

[ Oh, can he ever— in fact, Armand will even help him find it, groping gently for Louis's wrist to guide their hands clumsily to the slowly stiffening muscle that can no longer hide itself within the silken folds of his clothing. The maneuver requires only a slight position adjustment, Armand now shifted upon hands and knees as he looms over Louis rather than straddling his lover's lap as he'd been moments before. ]

Maybe not, [ His voice is softer now, low and husky like a growl or a purr, and he smiles. ] but I'll be whatever you say I am.

[ His free hand strokes greedily over Louis's newly exposed chest, sharp nails skimming against his flesh like a cat fixing to knead. Leaning closer, Armand teases Louis's nipple slowly beneath his thumb. ]

Maybe for today you can be the angel I’ve corrupted.

[Louis used his free hand to dig around in the side drawer for lube. Just as he has his hand on the bottle, Armand applies his thumb to Louis’s nipple. His gasps soft and takes a quiet moment to absorb it before he lubes up his fingers. He tugs Armand’s pants down and applies his lubed hand to Armand’s cock. Stroking in slow motions, he watches Armand’s face for a reaction.]

I can bring you prey. Fresh blood. [which he believes will hasten the healing process more than the animals or the farm. still he simply stands back, watching louis closely. maybe now, with his memories back, armand's watchful stare this way makes far more sense. the heavy history of it, the perceived thread of losing louis to himself again.

he looks to his blood stained hand, flexing his fingers and watching the blood dribbled and dry. louis' comment leaves no mark on his expression, even if he bites back thinned lips and another pointed stare.]

You have never truly appreciated my efforts before, so it would be a foolish way to attempt to appease you, don't you agree?

[ There are many, many ways Armand could respond to Louis's proposal, but rather than put voice to any, he only smiles now with teeth, tilting his chin upward in an expression that somehow manages to be both beatific and cunning— or perhaps, more simply, it could just be described as coy.

His eyelashes flutter in their practiced coquetry, an impishness coming alive within his hellfire gaze.

He rocks his hips slowly into and against Louis's stroking hand, forward and back at an unhurried pace. ]

And just what sort of devil does that make you?

Edited 2025-01-13 06:03 (UTC)

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