“All the books in the room were now on the
floor. He was a haunt standing in the ruins, a visitant from the devil
he believed in. Yet his face was so tender, so young”- The Vampire Lestat (Anne Rice)
I think I draw everybody too young,,,maybe?
I loooove this part of the book, with Armand reading the books and then tossing them around, I don’t know why C:
On other notes my cellphone died and I was listening to “The Vampire Lestat” on it, so I will have to “actually” read the book ( I own this one, but is just that i love to listen audiobooks while I am drawing)
I want draw Armand and Louis next, I am thinking of that part at the end of “the interview with the vampire" when Louis doesn’t talk much and Armand kind of, just hang around whith him… Also cause I wanna try to change the hair of my Louis design to make him a bit more canon
Louis spent all pages of Kapetria’s Tale reading in his “crypt,” away from the gathering, and tbh i would have much rather read about THAT than Kapetria’s Tale bc no nO no.
[^X by @life-on-night-island] Louis was MUCH happier in the crypt for those what, 5? 8? however many hours…
@monstersinthecosmos: I, too, am #mad that louis was probably reading a better book than i was at that moment
“Whoever he was – and of
course I knew who he had to be – he did not give a damn that I was there! He
had not even stopped to take a breath… It was Armand, of course. Yet I was hardly prepared for the
sight he presented here.
“Candle wax dripped
down the marble bust of Caesar, flowed over the brightly painted countries of
the world globe. And the books, they lay in mountains on the carpet, save for
those of the very last shelf in the corner when he stood, in his old rags
still, hair full of dust, ignoring me as he ran his hand over page after page,
his eyes intent on the words before him, his lips half open, his expression
like that of an insect in its concentration as it chews through a leaf.
Perfectly horrible he looked, actually. He was sucking everything out of the
books! …
But his manner wasn’t
the entire horror. It was the havoc he was leaving behind him, the utter disregard
of everything he used. And his utter disregard of me.
“…His auburn hair shimmered despite the dirt in it; his eyes
burned like two lights. Grotesque he seemed, among all the candles and the swimming
colors of the flat, this filthy waif of the netherworld, and yet his beauty
held sway. He hadn’t needed the shadows of Notre Dame or the torchlight of the
crypt to flatter him. And there was a fierceness in him in this bright light
that I hadn’t seen before.” – Lestat re: Armand, The Vampire Lestat
♛Louis recently dragged me to this place in Buenos Aires kicking and screaming, I mean, a bookstore? Go down deep into South America for a bookstore. I was livid. Had to distract myself on the jet there by furiously scouring the internet for a drug cartel or some other high-level evildoer group to hunt there. I protested the entire trip. I laid such thick disdain on him for it…
[X] Until I walked through the entrance and fell in complete love with the place. A theatre! Converted, well, really more of a library, than a mere bookstore! Brightly lit, with people seated at tables on stage, delectable smelling coffees served as a pianist filled the space with pleasant melody. Small areas on balconies where still more people immersed themselves in fact and fiction. The place had a sense of grandeur, there was an echo of the history, all the stories that were orally told there, and all the stories now being told in paper.
It warmed my black little heart to make that connection, that a storyteller is still a storyteller, and an audience member still an audience member, in different fashions through the ages.
I had to find my section, of course. All of my novels have been translated into Spanish, and there they stood on two long shelves. I saw several fresh young teens sitting on the floor with my books open on their laps. If they had looked up for a moment, I’m sure they would have recognized me.
When I pointed out to him that there were no copies of Louis’ book, so it must be unpopular, he had the audacity to retort that his book was a better seller than any one of mine, and a quick inquiry with a salesperson confirmed that they were indeed sold out of his book. WELL.
I autographed a few copies of mine and tucked them back on the shelf anyway.
I-want-my-IWTV 