viaticumforthemarquise: #//ooc #//Claudia’s bedtime stories
france w/ hair done by little kids (you know with like 356289 different assorted ponytail holders and maybe a hairclip or unknown sparkly substance thrown in… maybe a few crayons)
beautiful
((I feel like this belongs here for obvious reasons haha))
In Blackwood Farm, Lestat says his name is “compounded of the first letter of each of my six older brothers’ names.” Is that true? Whose brilliant idea was that? Were you that disinterested in choosing an actual name for him?
-sighs-
This is a falsehood.
When he was very young, his brothers (not known for their kindness), told him this story. They made it quite clear to him that his parents, having no love left for him after six children, took the laziest route possible in naming him.
This is, of course, an utter lie. I’ve already told the story here of Lestat’s naming—and I’ve also explained this to him many times (he tends to accept this story as a part of his own mythology, unfortunately).
He does, from time to time, need reminding that his name, just like my love for him, was not accidental in nature. He is, and ever will be, my Lestat. Thus I named him, and thus I keep him.
And his brothers are dead. So there’s that.
(he tends to accept this story as a part of his own mythology, unfortunately).He picks and chooses his own mythology, for SURE.
EVERYONE WHO REBLOGS THIS POST BY AUGUST 20TH WILL GET A PIECE OF ART IN THERE INBOX BASED ON THEIR BLOG
Sorry, People Off the Page, I couldn’t resist ;]
“What an unusual name, Lestat,” she returned. “Does it have a meaning?”
“None whatsoever, Madam,” Lestat answered. “If memory serves me right, and it does less and less, the name’s compounded of the first letter of each of my six older brothers’ names, all of whom – the brothers and their names – I grew up to cheerfully and vigorously despise.”
– The vampire Lestat, Blackwood Farm
So he must have known all his brothers before they died ;A;
Discussing this with viaticumforthemarquise… maybe Augustin (or one of Lestat’s brothers) told him that just to hurt his feelings, like “YOU ARE SO WORTHLESS THAT AT BIRTH OUR PARENTS COULD ONLY MUSTER THE CREATIVITY TO TAKE A LETTER FROM EACH OF OUR NAMES” *SLAPS*
Lestat: *screaming internally*
They told him this at a young age … and he never questioned it.
ooc; Also Bad Dream because again, I love the pain of Louis/Lestat angst
Master Drabble List
- Bad Dream:I’ll write my character having a nightmare about yours, or vice versa.
For the past several nights I have been having the most vivid nightmares. In the dreams I am mortal again in David’s body- or Raglan’s body, I suppose- and I am running down a great corridor. At the very end there is a grand oak door which I cannot open because my mortal limbs are too weak, but after several moments of shoving the door finally gives way! Louis is on the other side- it’s he who has opened it. He is dressed in the finest formal attire- fitted blazer, fine silk tie, and shiny gold cufflinks pinning his shirtsleeves. His hair is gathered back the way I like it at the base of his neck. Beyond him there is a luminous ballroom filled with our immortal friends and acquaintances: Armand, Gabrielle, Marius, Pandora, Maharet, even Santino and Eric are there. Every single one of them and they halt in their dancing and there is a deafening silence as they stare at me for a short eternity. And then they laugh uncontrollably, pointing fingers at me, at my predicament. I have been kicked out of their exclusive club.
It’s by this time I search wildly for Louis again- you know how dreams are, easy to lose track of people. I find him on Armand’s arm guffawing pitilessly, and the wickedest, most self-satisfied glint in the little imp’s eyes. I am outraged and embarrassed. I storm up to Louis and I grab hold of his well-pressed lapels and shake him. I order him to put a stop to this nonsense, to turn me back already. Let me back in your club.
Then something sharp in my lower back. I twist and see a second Louis, a crueler Louis, has driven a knife straight into me. With his mean lips he kisses me coldly before pulling the blade out. I fall, bleed out, and die right there on the ball room floor with peels of laughter echoing around me.
My dream life has never been very subtle.
//Posting the whole video because it’s just too good not to share. I think I’m in love with these cosplayers xDD
Not even at the 2 min mark and I had to reblog this. Really, this is no ordinary cosplay video. There is excellent use of music and dialogue and… oh you hit play already, didn’t you? So I can write whatever I want here… blah blah blah oh the Huge Manatees…
