interviewee | OPEN RP POST

You're welcome.

{ Lestat opens the cabinet, looking at the few options inside. He and Louis and Armand are not all terribly different in size. He can manage with something here until he gets something better. }

They've been talking about you since the book was released. We all heard you put your challenge out.

{ And it wasn't as though Armand would come, would he? }

Thanks. [Louis says belatedly. He still leans back on the couch, eyes watching Lestat move over to the miniature closet and filter through the options.]

I heard them. And I said it to silence them.

[To mark his place as an unrepentant master vampire, ready for any threat. As it turns out, he wasn't ready for any threat.]

We should be safe here for now.

We won't be staying here. I have obligations state side.

{ He closes the cabinet, turning back to look at Louis. }

We'll wait until our strength has returned to us, and dawn will be upon us soon.

{ He'd always tried to teach Louis to keep to himself, keep his head down. Yes, they can have their fun and be dramatic and swan into rooms, but never draw attention to what or who they are. Now here they are.

It's maybe moderately better than the hovel of a home he'd had in New Orleans. }

The tour. [Louis remembers out loud. Lestat is going on tour. He wanted to go see the first stop of the tour, but will he be able to now? Will it be safe for either of them if Louis shows his face?

Maybe he shouldn't care what any other vampires think and go regardless.

The mention of dawn has Louis standing up, wobbling for a moment before he's upright. He lifts the seat of the couch to reveal a coffin beneath. The last time they shared a coffin was before Louis attempted to murder Lestat.]

You can sleep in there. I'll make something work.

I have a single out now. Your visit seemed to have inspire me.

{ They'll both have to suck it up and get in the coffin, it will give them the best option to recover. They can handle it. He starts to strip off his own blood-stained clothes, because God forbid he sleep in anything soiled. }

Louis de Pointe du Lac, you're going to get in that coffin.

Yeah?

[Louis remembers the last time Lestat wrote a song for him. Maybe this time he'll hear Lestat's voice and not Antoinette's.

Dawn is rapidly approaching and Louis stubbornly remains over by the fridge, where he knows blood bags chill. Louis bends down to open the fridge and offers the bag to Lestat.]

I won't. [Not unless Lestat really wants him there.]

Suit yourself.

{ Lestat won't push Louis. Pushing him has never worked before. Not pushing him hasn't really worked out well for him, either, but Lestat's come to learn that Louis will ultimately do the sensible thing on his own terms. The pull of the coffin and its promising rest will call to him.

He drains the bag and settles into the coffin, leaving the lid open. }

[Louis takes the empty bag to the sink and sets it there. Lestat is more than right about the call of the coffin. Every time he looks at it, his body screams to lay down beside Lestat.

But is that what Lestat wants? Would sharing a coffin with him change anything?

Louis sighs and pulls out some fresh clothing from the closet and dresses in silence. And then dawn must have risen because the call of the coffin is inescapable. With careful feet, he steps down into the coffin, laying almost on top of Lestat.]

{ He waits patiently, not moving as he listens to each of Louis' movements. He only moves once Louis is laying with him, reaching up to close the lid an envelope them in darkness.

It's a strange sensation. Lestat had abandoned any hope of being in this situation with Louis again, but their encounter in New Orleans had given some flame to the embers again. Even if they went their separate ways, there was a promise of something there.

But the thoughts in his head give way to sleep, the familiar weight of Louis being a welcome comfort. }

[Louis wakes up a couple hours after sunset, needing additional rest to heal his wounds. They aren't completely knitted shut, but he won't be bleeding everywhere any more. There's a familiar warmth, a smell like home, and Louis opens his eyes to see Lestat with him in the coffin. Louis blinks a moment before remembering the previous night: the assault, the escape, and now the safe house.

Louis shifts to better watch Lestat, not yet moving to leave the coffin.]

Is there something on my face?

{ Lestat doesn't open his eyes, but it's evident he's been awake at least before Louis has been. }

Are you feeling better?

No, nothing. [Louis finds he’s surprised that Lestat is here with him. Louis wouldn’t blame him if he left. There are a multitude of reasons to go and yet he remained in the coffin with Louis, a breath apart.

At the question, Louis does a mental assessment if his condition. Parts of him still feel raw and open, while others scabbed over night.]

Feels like I got ripped open.

Not to be crass, but you were.

{ Lestat should be mad at Louis about it. A part of him is, the way he'd always been frustrated when Louis would ignore sense and do something to put himself in harm's way. Mostly he finds he's just exasperated thinking about it. }

We'll be here another day, no doubt.

I remember that.

[Louis reaches up to open the coffin and his body screams at him for moving. Scabs break and open and Louis hisses in pain as he lifts the lid and begins to crawl out.]

Will that be alright with your tour?

It seems there's no option, is there?

{ He's certainly not leaving Louis to fend for himself. That will only end in disaster, and there's no way Lestat could perform if he's feeling distraught.

He sits up when the lid is opened, giving his hair a shake even though it's hardly messed up, and turning his gaze on Louis. Lestat presses his lips together for a moment. }

I do have some qualms with how your book painted my character. Just in case you were wondering what I thought of it.

[Louis leans against the counter as he tries to absorb the pain as it pulses through him.]

I’d expect you would.

[He knew that Lestat wasn’t dead, that his and Claudia’s attempt to murder him failed.]

I know I lied about the fight. Among other things.

[Louis tugs off his bedshirt and tosses it to the side to get a good look at the damage. His body looks disfigured, nearly glowing purple and blue from what has healed. His back is much worse, not that he can see it.]

Lucky for you I'm not the type to sue for defamation of character.

{ He climbs out of the coffin and closes the lid, resetting it so the couch is covering it up once more. }

And it seems to be doing wonders to launch my popularity with the masses.

{ People think it's some sort of marketing ploy, which is vaguely annoying, but Lestat's not going to balk at anything to help rocket him to fame. He can't let Louis hog all the limelight, can he?

Lestat glances for a moment at Louis, then he looks away again, perhaps out of a bit of shame. Not at seeing Louis in some sort of state of undress, but at the memories of their fight and the way he'd left Louis mottled with similar bruises. }

[Louis doesn’t say thank you as he makes his way back to the closet. He changes into a black button up, leaving his pants on for now as Lestat mentions how the book is launching his career.]

Glad I could help.

[The cost of Lestat’s boost in fame has now been paid in blood and Louis takes a moment to simply breathe as he reaches for a change in pants. Lestat has seen everything multiple times, but Louis hesitates. Perhaps it’s because of the pain and maybe it’s because Louis doesn’t want to be more vulnerable. Whatever the reason, it passes and Louis changes before sitting gingerly on the couch with his eyes half-lidded.]

{ He moves around, exploring what little there is to see around them. Lestat can't even fathom why they had a safehouse to start with, but it does seem to line up with Armand's general Armandness. When there's nothing left to touch or pick up and examine, he eventually seats himself on the sofa next to Louis.

This must be what awkward feels like. }

I'm sorry for everything I did to push you away. Perhaps if I hadn't, we wouldn't be in this situation today.

[Louis lifts his eyelids enough to really look at Lestat, at the face he loved so dearly. He still does, he supposes, but it's quieter, like a flame flickering in a hurricane. The apology comes completely unexpected and Louis's eyes open in full.]

I... [His chest burns and Louis isn't sure if it's the injuries or the emotions that arise.] I have a lot to apologize for, too. I'm sorry we tried to kill you.

[His breath catches in his chest and Louis grimaces.] We both did things that brought us here.

{ He lets out a sigh. Now seems as good a time as any to just admit this. It has been eighty years, after all, no need to hold on to things. }

I knew you were planning on killing me. I could have left at any time, but I suppose I'd hoped you'd change your mind. I do have to hand it to Claudia, the poison was an unexpected touch.

[Oh. Oh. Louis breath catches, his brow furrows and his lips tremble.]

You knew?

[The guilt already clogging his throat multiplies. How must it have been like to walk around knowing that his love planned to kill him. All the while Louis kissed and held Lestat, in many falsities, and yet Lestat lingered.

It breaks Louis's heart and he ducks his head, struggling to keep from crying.

Lestat knew. He knew.]

How could I not? Even if you both weren't impossibly loud about it, even if Antoinette hadn't seen or heard you and confirmed it to me, it was written all over your body language.

{ He doesn't hold it against Louis. He doesn't even hold it against Claudia. }

I always said I wanted to die in my lover's arms.

{ He reaches over to run his thumb gently under one of Louis' eyes, ready to catch any errant tears. }

[Those errant tears make their appearance as Louis can only imagine what life must have been like knowing that his killers waltzed around his home, masquerading as husband and daughter.]

'm sorry. [Louis is still exhausted, still in pain, and the tears and the apologies come easy. 'm so sorry.

[He can't imagine it, the devastation, the realization that must have come on that balcony. When that last cigarette was snubbed out on the concrete.]

I- [He can't catch his breath any more as emotion and pain overwhelm him.]

You, ma foi, did only what I pushed you to do. It's but a blip in our history, and it was better for me that I should die than endure a life knowing you despised me so.

{ His hand moves, stroking over Louis' hair. Lestat's not particularly good at comforting. He has little-to-no practice in such things, having always to take the approach of tough love or not love at all. }

I forgive you. It's as simple as that.

OPEN RP POST

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