TLV Inbox

[transfundere]

"Please leave a message. Should you require immediate medical assistance, please seek closer help and I will attend you as soon as possible."

Comments

[transfundere]

[ That makes him move, his own pale eyes and pale face startled by the simple words. ]

He stole you?

[ And there, righteous anger on Lestat's behalf, clear as day. ]

[malicieux]

{ He holds out a hand in silent confirmation, but he won't repeat that part again. His hands fold on to his lap, as that was the easy part of the whole thing to tell. }

He took me somewhere. A room, part of a bigger place, though all I knew at first was that room. He did not turn me at first. Perhaps it was only a few days I spent in that room. He would feed on me at night then leave me during the day to recover, though I was never alone. The room was filled with bodies in varying states of decay and rot, but the resemblance they all had to me was uncanny. Light coloured hair, blue eyes, my complexion and my build. My only company during my conscious moments were these lifeless doppelgängers.

[transfundere]

[ Reid keeps his lips pressed tight, unwilling to speak the anger he feels. No doubt Lestat can feel it, but he won't make Lestat speak around it, nor wrestle with it as he struggles through the story. He nods, however, to let him know that he is listening, that he will continue to listen. ]

[malicieux]

{ He appreciates the lack of interjections, but somewhere along the telling, his hands have gone from being clasped on his lap to his arms being folded across his chest, as if unconsciously shielding himself from something. }

The night came at last. He took me to a rooftop and under the moon he chose to make me what I am. I didn't speak a lie when I said it was the most exhilarating feeling. The pain of the days before seemed to no longer exist and I begged to feel the bite again when it was done. Shameful, I know, but that is the truth of it. It was then in the haze of my new beginning that I learned his name. An old vampire, several centuries, tired of his existence and wanting to leave something of him behind.

{ He turns his gaze to Reid, not having had it in him to look at the other during the recounting. }

He showed me how to get down to a coffin beneath the home, where there was waiting for me a pile of gold and riches. Then he set himself alight in flames and I was left alone. I'd thought it all a horrible dream even as I forced myself into the coffin that first night. The days while my body adjusted were beyond any illness I'd witnessed or experienced, but perhaps it was my anger that allowed me to persevere and lead me to where I am now.

[transfundere]

[ And he may be surprised at the depth of sorrow in those pale eyes, sorrow and anger on his behalf and the bare face of his affection, unmasked and undeniable even by him. One long-fingered hand will reach out to cup his cheek as he gives the smallest shake of his head. ]

You have nothing to be ashamed of, Lestat. There is nothing in all you have told me that is something you should be ashamed of.

[ An unnecessary necessary breath out, cleansing. ]

I am glad you told me, dearheart. But I am heartbroken that you were put through such evil.

[malicieux]

{ He leans into the touch, cold in temperature but the intention behind it is warmth enough. Lestat knows he's not much better himself. He'd done something horrifyingly similar to Neal, and he's never been shy about leaning into his more unsavoury tendencies. But it's undeniably nice to have Reid not care about any of that in the face of this.

Even when he'd told his little family in New Orleans, Claudia and Louis had faced the story with some coldness. }

It's fair turn around. To be turned is no easy thing and if I'm to know the details of yours, you should know mine. Who better to understand it?

[transfundere]

[ He is infinitely aware of Lestat's darkness, of the evil done at his hands, the unsavory nature of his choices over the years; his love and his kindness are not in spite of them but because of them. He has seen the fruit of hatred in an immortal heart, seen the destruction it can cause. He grew up with the tales of all that happened when, as it turned out, a Champion such as himself lost faith, lost their way, gave into anger and despair and apathy.

And he has felt the pull of those things in his own heart, the claws that ache to sink in and drag him down.

They are creatures too full of life to be full of hate, and too long lived to keep accounting so mercilessly. If he is to make a mistake, it will be one of love and not one of derision or hate.]

In some senses, I will never understand it: the actions of your maker, how terribly he hurt you. But your trust in me is... I will always strive to be worthy of it. I hope the telling in some way unburdened you, if nothing else.

[malicieux]

I've accepted your good and pure intentions, frustrating as I find it.

{ Lestat can't sit too long in seriousness, especially when it's focused on him. He's put himself on edge now, so a light tease is necessary. }

I may be a lost cause, but I can enjoy being your lost cause at the very least.

[transfundere]

Hardly lost.

[ But he'll keep it light, fond, warm but not too heavy. He'll take a moment and brush his hair back behind one ear. Then he'll pull his hand back. Then he'll look around the room to where Lyonette is in her bed and Lottie in hers. ]

...I think the children are done for the night, however.

[malicieux]

No doubt bored that we've long stopped paying them any mind. Though the day's been long. We ought to follow suit.

{ Though it's an unpleasant tale to go to bed after telling, Lestat returns their books to the shelf until they're revisited tomorrow. }

This place is turning me into a homebody. Horrible.

[transfundere]

You could always liven up the evenings in this place, make a salon of the gazebo or even one of the empty rooms. I'm sure you would have your takers among those similarly frustrated.

[ He waits on the couch for him, smiling fondly at Lestat as he puts the book away. ]

[malicieux]

I'd rather play the introvert than suffer the embarrassment of hosting a soirée that no one would come to.

{ He glances over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. }

Spare me before you say that you'd attend.

[transfundere]

[ He puts his hand to his heart. ]

I would not dream of anything of the sort.

Though I think you underestimate your appeal. Give it some time and perhaps return to the idea.

[ He offers a hand to Lestat, and he will bow over if it given the same. ]

And yet, know that I feel fortunate to have your company myself.

[malicieux]

I have magnificent appeal and it has been the burden and the blessing of my life.

{ He gives his hand, though, and uses it to pull himself closer to Reid rather than pull the man towards himself. }

How else do I ensnare such fine gentlemen in my little web?

[transfundere]

[ Reid will allow himself at least a small, private smile only for Lestat.]

Perhaps it is no snare. More a warm blanket, a sunset viewed with new eyes, the stars arrayed in their patterns such to capture the hearts and minds of the ancients that they saw their most fabulous myths written there.

[malicieux]

{ His lips purse, but there's a fond amusement in it. }

Or perhaps it's the other way around. You've ensnared me.

{ Lestat teases his fingers along Reid's, and a peculiar expression comes across his face as he thinks and loses the good humour of the teasing. }

Would you find it horribly improper if I asked not to be left alone while we sleep? I hate to go to rest alone in darkness thinking of that horrible face.

[transfundere]

I can't imagine how.

[ Said fondly, not self-depreciatingly. Then he watches Lestat's face fall and he shakes his head immediately. ]

Of course not. Take my bed, dearheart.

[malicieux]

{ He finds he can't even bring himself to make a quip about Reid's bed, which is probably enough of a sign that he's weary and tired. But he knows that he'll undoubtedly feel more comfortable there than in his coffin, at least for today. }

I appreciate it.

{ He gives the other's hand a little squeeze before turning, to make his way from sitting room to main room. }

[transfundere]

[ Reid will give him a moment, to collect himself, to make his way to the bed, and he'll leave the doors between sitting room and main room open so that the animals can move as they like and get to their water.

But eventually he'll come back and he'll bring the chair beside the bed, sit back and let his head settle on his shoulder. Lestat had asked not to be alone and Reid wouldn't dream of leaving him alone.]

[malicieux]

{ Lestat so very nearly sighs. His eyes are closed, and he waits until the sounds all settle before he opens them and turns his gaze to Reid dozing off on his own shoulder.

How impossibly exasperating.

But probably to be expected. He's fine with contenting himself by turning on to his side, staring at Reid in the darkness until the urge to sleep takes over. }

[transfundere]

[ But the night is long. And Reid is a light sleeper, a side effect of his time on the front. Hence when he hears soft noises, shuffling, he moves almost unconsciously, half-awake himself.

Thus when Lestat wakes, he will find himself in a different position in some ways than the one he had when he went to sleep: Reid's arms looped loosely around him and his nose gently nuzzling in his hair, very much the big spoon in the small bed. ]

[malicieux]

{ It's not an easy sleep, by any means. Lestat's too accustomed to the confines and quiet of his coffin to find rest right away, and the evening spun up unpleasant thoughts that take advantage of the unconscious state.

Waking up in the manner he'd have preferred to fall asleep is quite nice. No doubt, though, that Reid will feel equal parts flustered and guilty. Lestat decides to go again his nature and spare the other man both, so once he takes a moment to selfishly enjoy it and think about it happening in the future, he extracts himself with (reluctant) ease and grace.

There's a dog to walk, after all, and a terrible synthetic blood packet to sip. }