I have booked your flight into Palm Beach and your transportation to the Night Island. Your new PA has been telling me to stop and that she can handle it. I reassured her that I am quite capable of managing you on my own and have been doing so for many years. Can you have a word with her?
[ the three dots animate on, indicating the beginning of a message being written, only to stop. then start. then stops again for a few minutes. ] Daniel is rather impressive. Eager to display his power, too.
A pity he does not know quite how to wield those large fangs of his, no? His bites leave such a constellation of bruises.
I think you will enjoy the rooms I have set aside for you. So different from those lonely nights in the coffin on your tour. Louis has already expressed his appreciation of the arrangements here. He is a particular fan of the rainfall shower I had installed, rather like the one we shared in Dubai.
What is the phrase? Les vieilles habitudes sont difficiles à tuer?
How comforting for our Louis, to know that the past is merely a step away. Though I wonder, would he ever truly know if the step was decided by him, or for him?
[ the message is marked as read, with no response in return. clearly someone was miffed and was absolutely doing his best NOT to scowl. he was failing at it terribly, wrestling with his expression to the dry amusement of his lawyer-turned assistant christine watching him over her phone.
he absolutely does not bother with the in flight media available on the private jet to the island either, instead ruminating about whatever armand and louis got up to the night before. it had been some time since he had seen louis in person; he missed him sorely. to discover that he was instead spending time with armand again was a bitter pill, one that was difficult to accept. whatever game armand intended with the invite, it was an opportunity to see louis, regardless of the intent behind it.
thankfully for the driver, the car is waiting for the arrival of the jet at the private hanger. the man is skittish, jumpy. lestat skims his mind for any reasoning behind it, finds only celebrity awe. dull. he'll spend the rest of the trip staring out the window at the lavish world outside the car, feeling the increasing presence of the other vampires. company at least, would be welcome. ]
[ Thankfully for both the sake of Lestat's patience and his driver's desire to avoid becoming an entrée, the Night Island isn't far from the airport, a relatively short drive of an hour or so along the coast, skirting the lurid glow of the major cities. The chauffeur wisely remains quiet, ushering them through the security checkpoints, then out across the private bridge, Armand's singular concession to avoiding travel by boat as much as possible.
The Island is busy with the season, brightly lit and always buzzing somewhere, but the car takes Lestat away from the public side and into the dark heart hidden beneath the glossy frontage of the shopping malls and nightclubs. One of Armand's staff is there to greet the car as it arrives, arranging for luggage to be taken inside, ushering Christine to her usual suite and letting Lestat know, in softly accented French, that Armand is waiting for him in the dining room.
Inside, the décor is tasteful without being gaudy, modern lines with a touch of Middle Eastern influence that Lestat might have recognised if he had ever stepped foot in the tower in Dubai. Armand has had a freer hand here, and there are some eccentric touches -- a Dale Chihuly chandalier presently dominates the foyer like a giant blood red jellyfish. The windows are immense and show off the view of the beach and the lights on the water.
The vampire himself is alone in the dining room, absorbed in something on his iPad as Lestat is shown in. He looks up, then stands, moving around the table to greet him, smiling faintly. He's dressed in a loose flowing robe and silk trousers, barefoot, and is clearly enjoying his role as the host. ]
[ night island is as lush and bustling as louis' instagram photos had displayed. the mystique captured by the vampire's shutter was missing, the whimsy lost without the auter's touch. a captive world of luxury and indulgence, a likely home for many of the crowds lestat had seen amongst his shows. somehow armand had bottled that thirst with neon and dim lights, fed drugs and sex to the patrons. the undercurrent of hunger made lestat's fangs itch.
christine leaves without so much as a word and lestat ignores her in turn, waving a hand to the staff who attempt to guide him into the lavish den. there was no need for guidance when he could feel the low pressure hum of armand nearby, that magnetic pull of familiar power. he'll resist it as if it were not as insistent as a swell of desire, the same from so many decades ago in paris, under the church. as if knowing louis had touched him too didn't also eat at his insides.
C'était bien. [ a sniff, haughtily inspecting the windows, the view, finally armand. at the sight of him, his face softens ever so slightly and he steps in close, grasping the other vampire's upper arms and leaning in to greet him with a kiss to the cheek. ]
You are a vision as usual, diable doux. A deceptively angelic visage, for such a den of indulgence.
[ Kisses on the cheeks, very civilised. Armand is interested to find himself regretting that it's not claws or teeth in his throat, but he hides it with an expression of reserved pleasure, watching Lestat closely. The younger vampire is everything he always is, a force of nature waiting for an excuse, the deep air before a typhoon, a forest fire cresting a distant hill. There's the urge to run -- but, stronger, the desire to wait around and watch what happens. ]
Nothing like the den of iniquity a rockstar is used to, I'm sure. [ He's heard the rumors on the message boards. He started some of them. ]
Hungry?
[ A gesture of his hand summons a servant with a tray carrying two large wine glasses and a decanter of something rich and red that's not wine. She sets the tray on the table and goes about the business of pouring, offering a glass to Lestat first. ]
Young and strong, fresh as of an hour ago. He plays soccer. I remember how you like them.
[ the server earns more of lestat's attention than the drinks themselves, the blonde skimming the surface memories and thoughts for any tidbit of louis. pathetic, how lestat would yearn for him even now. no manner of eager groupies or willing blood bags would sate this particular thirst.
armand's constant gaze bears down on him with a slowly increasing weight however, and he plucks the glass of blood from the server with a nod.]
Then you would recall my preference for drinking from the vein, when possible.
[ haughtily, locking his stare onto those large sunset eyes as he takes a sip.]
[ Layers of awareness. Of the servant as she leaves, curious and excited about Lestat. Of Lestat's awareness of the servant. Of Lestat's pining for Louis and the way he casts about for his scent like a hound. His shame and guilt for wanting him mingled with his desire, and the perverse pleasure in the way the former enhances the latter. Armand studies it all and watches Lestat's throat as he swallows. ]
Louis and Daniel are down the coast. There's a jazz bar on the beach that Daniel enjoys. They will return shortly.
[ There's very little reaction from Armand, except perhaps for a slight tension around his eyes, and the way he drops his gaze to his hands as he picks the nail of his middle finger with his thumbnail. Reassuring himself with the pressure of the point against sensitive skin. ]
You came here to satisfy your curiosity. Tell me how that is different.
[ his voice is crisp, acidic. lestat places his glass atop the table delicately. then takes a clipped step towards armand, then another.]
I can smell him on you, you know. Louis. Is this what you brought me here for?
[ his narrowed eyes are cold from this close up, one step away from truly breaching personal space. pupils small as of yet, but with tense shoulders and a clenched jaw promising escalation.]
[ Where the promise of violence causes Lestat to tense up, it loosens something in Armand. His shoulders drop slightly as his chin tips up, baring his already exposed throat to the teeth of the wolf he's allowed into his home. He rubs his fingertips against his thumb, the only sign of restlessness. ]
He had me while you were in the air. I woke him to tell him you were arriving. He fed from me, and then he fucked me. Over this table.
[ a snarl erupts, a brief warning before lestat lunges forward. if armand permits it, lestat will snatch his throat and throw him towards the hard table, crowding him against it directly after.]
[ It's more or less the reaction Armand expected to get and has been planning for since they started talking again, memories of dragging Lestat over the wet cobbles of Paris no doubt playing no small part. This has been a long time in the making between them; better to do it now than in front of their fledglings, or -- God forbid -- their elders.
He lands half on top of the table, breath punched out of his throat by Lestat's hand, unable to do more than half lift himself up on one hand before Lestat is on top of him again. Armand bares his teeth, but his legs rise up either side of Lestat's hips, ankles crossing behind him as he reaches up to sink a hand into Lestat's hair so he can drag him down and kiss him. ]
[ a growl rumbles through his chest, the sound muffled by the kiss. armand tastes like rich blood and something unmistakably louis, enough that his chest aches, hungry for scraps. the older vampire doesn't resist against his grip as much as anticipated, easy enough to push down against the table. easy enough too, for lestat to resist the kiss if he so chose. instead the sharpened claw of his thumb digs just above the bob of armand's throat, piercing until a bead of blood wells around it.
lestat breaks the kiss to duck his head, tightening his grip as he chases the welling blood with a broad swipe of his tongue. his fangs drop immediately at the taste, pupils dilating. ]
C'est ce que tu veux? My ire, my attention?
[ punctuated with the press of his hips against armand's, a low hum escaping his throat as he notices just how easy to feel the shape of the other man through the luxurious silk he wore. ]
[ Pointless to lie about it in this state, with his blood on Lestat's tongue and his hips tilted upwards to receive the weight of the younger vampire between his thighs, his interest in said attention all too obvious through the thin fabric. His pupils are as dark as Lestat's, black blown out against amber rings; he swallows carefully against the hand around his throat, making no pretense over the fact that he's enjoying the pressure.
He keeps his own hands at his sides, gripping the edges of the table. His nostrils flare as he tilts his head back just a little, pulling in shallow breaths that he doesn't really need. ]
You could have me so easily, Lestat. You always could.
[ the way armand allows this treatment, this flexing of domination only agitates lestat. he tightens his grip, pressing the sharp of his claw in further to lap the fresh blood oozing over his thumb. tasting the older vampire's interest, feeling the way his body reacts. scenting more of louis on his neck, likely from feeding.]
Yet I have never taken you. What does that tell you?
[ cruel, and not entirely true. he had wanted armand very much and would have stayed with him if gabrielle had not insisted. and now, there was louis. and louis could not be replaced.
yet louis was not here, instead only the ghost of his touch on armand's pretty skin. despite his words, the heat of proximity and blood had him pressing his hips into the other man's, rumbling a growl at the sensation.]
[ It cuts far deeper than that sharp thumbnail, Lestat's beautiful voice uttering effortless viciousness. Armand's eyelashes flutter; his gaze skitters above Lestat, then to the side of the room. Trying and failing to regain a little composure. Pinned, the way he wants to be, and reminded of his own worthlessness, how easily he was used and discarded --
His chest is tight. He longs for Daniel with a child's need for comfort, though he doesn't reach out for him, or Louis. There's something terrible in the way his body responds to the cruelty, only growing harder, an aching need to be filled and dominated by the man who cares so little for him. His legs remain locked around Lestat's hips. Finally he turns his head, nuzzling lightly into Lestat's hair, murmuring his answer into his ear. ]
That you will whatever you want, as you always have. [ He breathes, carefully. ] Will you take me here? Where he did?
[ desperate creatures, the two of them. armand's willingness to take anything offered, lestat's clawing for any ghost of louis. the idea of touching where louis had, claiming the same body mere hours later - it twisted in his gut horribly, yet he could not think of anything else.
in this moment, he hated armand. wanted to be him too, if not just to receive louis' benevolence once more. he leans back to loom above the elder vampire, eyes piercing, roving over the elegant sprawl of his body.]
Is that what you want? You tempt me with his memory, knowing that I will discard you for his shadow.
[ a press of an image into armand's mind; lestat kissing him hungrily, armand's calves hooked over his shoulders as their bodies move together in rhythm. armand's face blurs into louis' admist a rough bite of lips - clearly implying who lestat would be focused on.
the vision disappears. lestat traces a claw over the crotch seam of the silk lounge pants, nudging the hard line of armand's cock and tapping it.]
[ The next city they intersect at Daniel sends him the address of the motel the book tour's put him up at along with: Quiet night in? Maybe Lestat wants a break from the whirlwind of fans and drugs and drugged fans, green rooms full of black roses and perfumed letters, sound techs taping down wires and bandmates practing the drums.
It's snowing out, not that that means anything to their dead bodies, but Daniel likes the way it makes the parking lot look, before the plowman comes through at 6am. A field of glistening white under the dark sky, snowflakes whirling in the downward street lights and the neon of the vacancy signs like a swarm of something alive.
Unlike Lestat's particular way of booty calling, he's not dressed up in anything exciting, just a robe and slippers, chilling on the ugly, squeaky bed with a book and a glass full of the woman currently dying in the bathroom shower stall. He leaves the door unlocked. ]
[ it's the invite itself rather than the promise of a quiet evening that draws lestat from the lingering buzz of the after show. naturally he was aware that their tours would intersect here, but the loneliness had not quite burrowed its way entirely under his skin yet, not enough that he would initiate contact on the first day. so to discover the address and the message directly after the final encore - admittedly it amused and charmed him easily. the blonde had grabbed the nearest coat and set off into the frigid night air without preamble.
after the deafening noise of the crowd, the band and all else, the silence brought by the thick snow was more than welcome. cold, colder than the black fluffy jacket lestat wore could account for, but it was a temporary thing, easily fixed with a feed and a fuck. certainly to any stray onlooker, he was just another shivering mascara smeared boy toy on his way to meet his illicit hookup in a cheap room. amusing, as always.
lestat can smell the fresh blood before even opening the door. could feel daniel from several blocks away. he doesn't bother checking the number on the door, just waltzes in with cigarette in hand.]
Your agent, she hates you. This is a dismal excuse for accommodation. It is for drug dealers and cheating husbands.
[ the door shuts behind him with a click. lestat toes his boots off with cat like grace before looking over to daniel, expression not giving away any distain nor approval while he takes a lazy drag.]
a text at some point
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I will have a word with Christine, who should bring the new hire up to speed. Unless you wish to be compensated for your assistance?
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[ as if visiting someone's island and spending the entire time on the other side would be a normal thing to do.]
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We have been talking.
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Daniel is rather impressive. Eager to display his power, too.
A pity he does not know quite how to wield those large fangs of his, no? His bites leave such a constellation of bruises.
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How comforting for our Louis, to know that the past is merely a step away. Though I wonder, would he ever truly know if the step was decided by him, or for him?
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And you? You are not as worn out, I see? Lying on one's back can be quite restful, I suppose.
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I will be arriving at 7pm. If the arranged transport is late, I will not be considering you for the assistant role.
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I will see you later. Try not to scowl too much in the meantime, your fans will not forgive me if you end up with wrinkles.
action; (feel free to adjust if need be)
he absolutely does not bother with the in flight media available on the private jet to the island either, instead ruminating about whatever armand and louis got up to the night before. it had been some time since he had seen louis in person; he missed him sorely. to discover that he was instead spending time with armand again was a bitter pill, one that was difficult to accept. whatever game armand intended with the invite, it was an opportunity to see louis, regardless of the intent behind it.
thankfully for the driver, the car is waiting for the arrival of the jet at the private hanger. the man is skittish, jumpy. lestat skims his mind for any reasoning behind it, finds only celebrity awe. dull. he'll spend the rest of the trip staring out the window at the lavish world outside the car, feeling the increasing presence of the other vampires. company at least, would be welcome. ]
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The Island is busy with the season, brightly lit and always buzzing somewhere, but the car takes Lestat away from the public side and into the dark heart hidden beneath the glossy frontage of the shopping malls and nightclubs. One of Armand's staff is there to greet the car as it arrives, arranging for luggage to be taken inside, ushering Christine to her usual suite and letting Lestat know, in softly accented French, that Armand is waiting for him in the dining room.
Inside, the décor is tasteful without being gaudy, modern lines with a touch of Middle Eastern influence that Lestat might have recognised if he had ever stepped foot in the tower in Dubai. Armand has had a freer hand here, and there are some eccentric touches -- a Dale Chihuly chandalier presently dominates the foyer like a giant blood red jellyfish. The windows are immense and show off the view of the beach and the lights on the water.
The vampire himself is alone in the dining room, absorbed in something on his iPad as Lestat is shown in. He looks up, then stands, moving around the table to greet him, smiling faintly. He's dressed in a loose flowing robe and silk trousers, barefoot, and is clearly enjoying his role as the host. ]
I trust your flight was acceptable?
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christine leaves without so much as a word and lestat ignores her in turn, waving a hand to the staff who attempt to guide him into the lavish den. there was no need for guidance when he could feel the low pressure hum of armand nearby, that magnetic pull of familiar power. he'll resist it as if it were not as insistent as a swell of desire, the same from so many decades ago in paris, under the church. as if knowing louis had touched him too didn't also eat at his insides.
instead the blonde drifts inside, regarding the grandeur with distant interest, footsteps echoing on the marble. dressed far more elegantly than he has for some time now, losing the leather and mesh for clean lines and folds. he can scent them both now, the mingle of armand and louis both, petrichor and smoke. there's a bitter twist to his upper lip as he enters the dining room, expression unchanging even as armand greets him. ]
C'était bien. [ a sniff, haughtily inspecting the windows, the view, finally armand. at the sight of him, his face softens ever so slightly and he steps in close, grasping the other vampire's upper arms and leaning in to greet him with a kiss to the cheek. ]
You are a vision as usual, diable doux. A deceptively angelic visage, for such a den of indulgence.
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Nothing like the den of iniquity a rockstar is used to, I'm sure. [ He's heard the rumors on the message boards. He started some of them. ]
Hungry?
[ A gesture of his hand summons a servant with a tray carrying two large wine glasses and a decanter of something rich and red that's not wine. She sets the tray on the table and goes about the business of pouring, offering a glass to Lestat first. ]
Young and strong, fresh as of an hour ago. He plays soccer. I remember how you like them.
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armand's constant gaze bears down on him with a slowly increasing weight however, and he plucks the glass of blood from the server with a nod.]
Then you would recall my preference for drinking from the vein, when possible.
[ haughtily, locking his stare onto those large sunset eyes as he takes a sip.]
Not that I distrust your selection, of course.
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Louis and Daniel are down the coast. There's a jazz bar on the beach that Daniel enjoys. They will return shortly.
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Enough. I did not come here for you to filter through my mind, nor for you to dangle Louis in front of me.
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You came here to satisfy your curiosity. Tell me how that is different.
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[ his voice is crisp, acidic. lestat places his glass atop the table delicately. then takes a clipped step towards armand, then another.]
I can smell him on you, you know. Louis. Is this what you brought me here for?
[ his narrowed eyes are cold from this close up, one step away from truly breaching personal space. pupils small as of yet, but with tense shoulders and a clenched jaw promising escalation.]
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He had me while you were in the air. I woke him to tell him you were arriving. He fed from me, and then he fucked me. Over this table.
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[ a snarl erupts, a brief warning before lestat lunges forward. if armand permits it, lestat will snatch his throat and throw him towards the hard table, crowding him against it directly after.]
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He lands half on top of the table, breath punched out of his throat by Lestat's hand, unable to do more than half lift himself up on one hand before Lestat is on top of him again. Armand bares his teeth, but his legs rise up either side of Lestat's hips, ankles crossing behind him as he reaches up to sink a hand into Lestat's hair so he can drag him down and kiss him. ]
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lestat breaks the kiss to duck his head, tightening his grip as he chases the welling blood with a broad swipe of his tongue. his fangs drop immediately at the taste, pupils dilating. ]
C'est ce que tu veux? My ire, my attention?
[ punctuated with the press of his hips against armand's, a low hum escaping his throat as he notices just how easy to feel the shape of the other man through the luxurious silk he wore. ]
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[ Pointless to lie about it in this state, with his blood on Lestat's tongue and his hips tilted upwards to receive the weight of the younger vampire between his thighs, his interest in said attention all too obvious through the thin fabric. His pupils are as dark as Lestat's, black blown out against amber rings; he swallows carefully against the hand around his throat, making no pretense over the fact that he's enjoying the pressure.
He keeps his own hands at his sides, gripping the edges of the table. His nostrils flare as he tilts his head back just a little, pulling in shallow breaths that he doesn't really need. ]
You could have me so easily, Lestat. You always could.
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Yet I have never taken you. What does that tell you?
[ cruel, and not entirely true. he had wanted armand very much and would have stayed with him if gabrielle had not insisted. and now, there was louis. and louis could not be replaced.
yet louis was not here, instead only the ghost of his touch on armand's pretty skin. despite his words, the heat of proximity and blood had him pressing his hips into the other man's, rumbling a growl at the sensation.]
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His chest is tight. He longs for Daniel with a child's need for comfort, though he doesn't reach out for him, or Louis. There's something terrible in the way his body responds to the cruelty, only growing harder, an aching need to be filled and dominated by the man who cares so little for him. His legs remain locked around Lestat's hips. Finally he turns his head, nuzzling lightly into Lestat's hair, murmuring his answer into his ear. ]
That you will whatever you want, as you always have. [ He breathes, carefully. ] Will you take me here? Where he did?
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in this moment, he hated armand. wanted to be him too, if not just to receive louis' benevolence once more. he leans back to loom above the elder vampire, eyes piercing, roving over the elegant sprawl of his body.]
Is that what you want? You tempt me with his memory, knowing that I will discard you for his shadow.
[ a press of an image into armand's mind; lestat kissing him hungrily, armand's calves hooked over his shoulders as their bodies move together in rhythm. armand's face blurs into louis' admist a rough bite of lips - clearly implying who lestat would be focused on.
the vision disappears. lestat traces a claw over the crotch seam of the silk lounge pants, nudging the hard line of armand's cock and tapping it.]
Tell me that you want it, knowing this.
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It's snowing out, not that that means anything to their dead bodies, but Daniel likes the way it makes the parking lot look, before the plowman comes through at 6am. A field of glistening white under the dark sky, snowflakes whirling in the downward street lights and the neon of the vacancy signs like a swarm of something alive.
Unlike Lestat's particular way of booty calling, he's not dressed up in anything exciting, just a robe and slippers, chilling on the ugly, squeaky bed with a book and a glass full of the woman currently dying in the bathroom shower stall. He leaves the door unlocked. ]
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after the deafening noise of the crowd, the band and all else, the silence brought by the thick snow was more than welcome. cold, colder than the black fluffy jacket lestat wore could account for, but it was a temporary thing, easily fixed with a feed and a fuck. certainly to any stray onlooker, he was just another shivering mascara smeared boy toy on his way to meet his illicit hookup in a cheap room. amusing, as always.
lestat can smell the fresh blood before even opening the door. could feel daniel from several blocks away. he doesn't bother checking the number on the door, just waltzes in with cigarette in hand.]
Your agent, she hates you. This is a dismal excuse for accommodation. It is for drug dealers and cheating husbands.
[ the door shuts behind him with a click. lestat toes his boots off with cat like grace before looking over to daniel, expression not giving away any distain nor approval while he takes a lazy drag.]
Which of those is on the menu tonight?