I want to watch you watch it.
@gairid look a Brian like your Brian!
Tag Archives: brian callahan
He’s teething and loves hands.
this is probably one of the most magnificent things a human being could ever experience. Look at this giant baby and his terror claws.
Basically my cat.
vampchronfic lookit this trusting human with this big fanged trash kitten!
Those who have read my fic are acquainted with my OC, Brian. Here’s a few pictures of hm (well, his FC, anyway.) Bottom pic is pretty much what he looked like when he first crossed paths with them.
#perfect cinnamon roll too good for this world
Respect Original Characters
If you disrespect OCs, you disrespect all authors.
OC stands for Original Character. Whether or not they exist in a fandom that is not their own does not matter. That’s why it’s not Original Story it’s Original Character. An OC is created solely off of the imagination of the author to carry out their purpose whether it be to love another character, to solve a conflict, or something else.
It is understandable if someone does not like a character that is a mary-sue or gary-stu. These are characters who are either a writer’s self-insert (which the reader wouldn’t know if they don’t know the author) or characters that seem too “perfect”. However, making mary-sues or gary-stus is a step in the OC creation process. These are typically made by beginning authors. They need time and people to help them develop their characters. No one is going to make a first draft of a character and call it a final, it takes time for characters to develop fears, strengths, weaknesses, hobbies, etc. It’s like revising an essay. You’ll move things around and change things until they’re nearly perfect, but nothing is ever “perfect”. You’ll ask your peers for their advice and to revise any potential errors. In the roleplaying world, a roleplay partner should point out any flaws or something that may improve a character. This is what makes characters less of a mary-stu or gary-stu. But the thing is, no one gives them a chance.
As an author in the roleplay community with several OC roleplay blogs, I myself and a few other OC authors have been having a hard time being accepted by those who play canon characters. This is why I’m writing this. Someone was bashing OCs in general, saying that they were an annoyance. Maybe it’s hard for some people to grasp, but canon characters are original characters. Someone created Tamaki Suoh, someone created Harry Potter, someone created Captain Jack Sparrow, but only when they got a popular movie, anime, book, etc. did they become what we know as “canon”. They’re still original to someone regardless of what people say. There are also canon characters that are more than perfect, but no one bashes them as much as people criticize original characters.
I’m not saying that there aren’t people who aren’t accepting of the creativity and imagination of Original Characters. It’s just that there isn’t enough people who are willing to look deeper into a character. Many criticize OCs before they really get to know them or their story. It’s disrespectful of people to do this without getting a good look. Maybe if people give more constructive criticism, OCs will receive a new makeover and the stereotype will be changed.
Let’s please get rid of the stereotype that all OCs are mary-sues or gary-stus. Because let’s admit it. There are people who will go onto an OCs page and say, “This character is an OC, they must suck,“ and not look into the backstory, the canons, or the intricate details that the author spend days, weeks, years putting into a character. And because of what? A lousy stereotype.
Don’t judge a book by it’s cover. Don’t judge a character by their author. Don’t judge an author by their character. Help us develop our characters. Give us constructive criticism to make us better. Respect that we have flaws and that nothing is perfect.
#respectforOCs
I know it hurts you two, just please forgive me. But did she ever learn to make flower crowns for you? The readers like me only had our imagination on what some of the things she might have done in her youth were
♛”It’s a strange kind of hurt to think of her. We can’t help it when we see something she would have liked, so united for so many years on pleasing her, as we were. The sound of laughter from a little girl as it echoes down a street often draws us closer together, slipping our arms around eachother protectively.”
“We rarely mention her. So many things that we’ve been through, we have scars that can only be prodded at, not reopened.”
“David was almost meant to fit a similar role for us, but from his first night as one of us, I knew that could never be.”
“On the subject of people we feel close to… Are you aware of our dear 3rd wheel personal assistant, Brian? He rapidly became someone we both care for deeply, who knew we desperately needed his kindness, calm temperament, sharp wit, let alone the daytime help he was hired for! He’s one of those whose personality lights him from within, and we’re both drawn in. We’re mostly respectful in our interactions with him, it wouldn’t do to treat him like a pet. But I have always had trouble respecting boundaries with objects of my affection.” Laughs. (pssst he’s gairid‘s OC!)
“To answer your question, yes, I showed Claudia how to thread dandelions into a chain, which she improved into elaborate wreaths for our front door.”
“Louis was subjected many times to florally decorated plaits simply because his hair is longer than mine, and the darkness made a better backdrop for the blooms. Or so she said. More likely she just wanted the excuse to play with his hair.” he smirked, leaning back.
“After his ‘makeover,’ she would indulge him in a game of chess. She was one of the few who has ever been able to beat him, but I suspect he
purposely made mistakes when playing with her. He’s certainly never pulled any punches with ME at that game or many others.”
“Claudia not only made flower crowns, but she also made dresses for her dolls from the larger petals of hibiscus flowers. The last dress she ever wore was, according to Louis, one she had designed herself.”
“Some of the things Claudia enjoyed…”
“Drawing and painting, watercolors. She had a deft hand. I can still remember her style vividly in my mind, perhaps it’s for the best that those works did not survive the fire. I think Louis is relieved of it. After all, he chose not to save the art she made during their travels together. Too painful, perhaps. I don’t bring it up with him.”
“Her music lessons. Piano was her foremost interest, which I encouraged because it is the basis for all other instruments. Other instruments were more difficult for her small hands. I commissioned a flute maker to make one her size, which she tried, but soon lost interest because she simply became winded too quickly. I think that experience turned her away from any other woodwinds.”
“String instruments were usually too large for her, as well.”
When you see this, share 3 random lines from WIPs
1) Louis-Armand
“I did what I did for love of you, Louis. I thought—I thought—“
“You thought you could what? Restore her? Make her whole again after her head had been torn from her fragile shoulders? Come now. You must know that I am no longer so easily swayed by your not inconsiderable persuasiveness. Her terror is upon you, though you have tried to paint Lestat as the culprit.”
What a treat! WIPs! ❤
Louis ran his hands through his hair, cropped short for the evening’s meeting.
“We were, all of us, culpable for what was done to my doomed Claudia.” He said distantly.
Armand stared at him for a moment. “You forgive me, then?”
“Not I. There is no forgiveness for what was done to her innocence, not for Lestat or for myself. Not for you. We learn only to live with what we have done. But I would ask you something since it appears that you must inflict yourself upon me from time to time.”
“I will tell you anything.” Armand said, laying a hand upon Louis’ sleeve. Louis suffered his touch.
“Why such animosity toward Lestat?”
There followed a long silence and then Armand spoke, his words etched with pain and acid.
“He took from me everything that meant anything to me. He did it thoughtlessly. He did it as though it were his very right.”
Again, Louis regarded him with curiosity.
“Thoughtlessly, perhaps, but it was inevitable. He saw it. You should have, too. Did you think to live, ragged and stinking, beneath Les Innocents forever? It is long gone, that reeking pit. You would have had to change eventually. Do you resent him for trying to do for you what you wanted me to do? “
“What are you talking about?” Armand asked.
“Quicken you, I believe you said. Make you alive again. He had already done that, but that was not enough?” Louis said, clearly baffled. “There it was, your coven performing in Paris even as Claudia and I found you. How had he taken anything from you? “
“You don’t understand.” Armand said.
“Was it power? That he refused to follow a set of archaic rules? But why should that mean so much to you even now? You and the others seem obsessed with rules, yet our entire existence goes against every so-called rule we once may have believed in.”
“There are always rules, Louis. Even you know that.”
“Physical ones, perhaps. These are limits rather than rules. Why should we not do as we wish? It is not as though we live communally. Are those vampires that choose to be reclusive and have no interaction at all with others of our kind included in these rules? And who makes them? I recall your rule when your followers condemned Claudia to her fate. Her transgression was kill our own kind, or in her case attempting it. Yet did not the mother of us all kill many of us? Obviously this rule was yours, since she had no such rules in place.”
“Claudia should not have been made one of us.” Armand said with finality. “Even Lestat should have understood that.”
”Ah. I see. Another rule. Marius’ rule, I believe, yet here you are, made just on the outer edge of your childhood. And now there is Benji, older than Claudia but younger than you. How is this a rule?”
“This is all meaningless. I have no animosity toward Lestat, though I often fear for his sanity. I wonder, also, how it is that he can so easily forsake you time after time.”
Louis smiled, the first genuine smile that Armand had really seen. His breath caught.
“I do not feel forsaken.” Louis said. “I am not obliged to explain the nature of my life with Lestat, but I tell you this. You are willfully obtuse when it comes to any mention of Lestat and perhaps it is because you know exactly what I allude to when I speak of him.”
“He has a certain charm and his beauty is undeniable.” Armand said carelessly. “You do not refer to such mundane things, do you Louis? Do you wish to tell me of his soul? His golden glory? Forgive me if I say I have heard this from you before. It was after one of our intimate moments, I believe.” He gazed at Louis with narrowed eyes. “One of those times you insist meant nothing at all.”
2.) Lestat – Brian
When I was a child I watched my mother and brought away from that a mix of emotion. Resentment at how successfully she was able to cut herself off from the monotony of her day to day life by retreating into the world of her books and pity that she lived like a caged bird. The hardest, once I realized it, was the pain it gave me to know that she wanted nothing more than to fly away from all of it, even me. It has occurred to me often enough that in the end she finally did just that.
I watched my brothers. My father. Sometimes it was curiosity, when it came to the men in my family, but more often than not, it was a way to shore up my defenses as I tried to think ahead of anything they might do. I watched the people in the village and they in turn watched all of us when they had the chance.
When I was mortal it was mostly about defending myself.When I became what I am, the urge to watch became a force unto itself and to this day I watch mortals engaged in all manner of behavior. I still marvel at the sublime heights I have observed as well as the depth of depravity achieved. Human beings can rival any vampire I have ever heard of as far as savage brutality and degradation. None of that has much to do with the subject at hand, but there are times when I do like an introduction to a narrative.
This evening I was watching Brian, though I hadn’t come to Éclairage with that express purpose—the watching had more to do, at first anyway, with waiting for Louis to join me. He was taking the edge off his thirst and quite possibly using that as an excuse to engineer the night ahead. If you think he is above all that, you have not been paying attention to the many other things I’ve written.
When Louis and I returned to New Orleans to find that Brian had decided to escape to Grand Lake for a while, Louis expressed a desire to follow along…a surprise of sorts, he said. We both have our appetites and though it may be presumed that I am the insatiable one, make no mistake—Louis surpasses me in this more often than you might think and his own predilection toward satisfaction takes many surprising turns. He has lately been drawn to the pleasures of mortal blood freely given without fear. Once indulged in, Louis discovered that he had developed a taste for these interludes.
Brian had emerged onto the upper gallery from the corner bedroom he favored at just about the time I arrived He was leaning on the rail, sipping occasionally from the glass he held. His hair was wet, swept back from his brow and he looked very young and vulnerable, barefoot in a pair of soft jeans and an unbuttoned chambray shirt. I could smell him from when I stood—clean flesh and hair and the laundry soap in his clothes, all released by the heat of his body and borne to me in tantalizing diffusion on the still, humid air. Scent of juniper from the iced gin in his glass and melted wax from the little votives he’d lighted on the glass table near the door. Above all these scents, I smelled the enticing salt and iron of the blood coursing steadily through him.
3.)Louis/Lestat
Now that some time has passed since the episode, I wonder at my presumption of what was best for him and more than one discussion of this presumption has escalated to spectacular rage for Lestat’s part and cold fury for mine. This was a familiar dynamic , very much a part of how we had learned to work back to trusting one another.
I wonder too what it would have been like to have taken his life from him and given back what he had once given me. Would he have actually been able to wrest his own body back from the wretched Raglan James and affected a transfer? My own blood was not nearly so strong as Lestat’s, something that he repeatedly emphasized in the aforementioned arguments.
“Well, you got something right.” Lestat said, leaning over my shoulder to see what I had written. “Although I don’t think ‘presumptuous’ is strong enough. “Effrontery’, perhaps? Wait—I have it! ‘Sheer brass balls’. Yes.” He kissed the top of my head and turned the office chair around, slithering into my lap. “But just think Louis—you gave up a once in a lifetime chance.”
“Oh? And what chance was that?”
“You could have been the boss of me.”
“Lestat, I am the boss of you.”
“So much love to gairid, I know she just had a notecard, but I’m doing one, too. Her blog has lots of great pictures, many of NOLA which she has taken herself, and that helps set a dreamy VC mood. Her writing is rich and her world-building is so advanced that I feel I’m walking down the street, grabbing a beer at on of Brian’s favorite bars, catching a glimpse of a certain couple making out in Pirate’s Alley… Don’t even get me started on her OCs. Brian is sweet and affable, but not a Gary Stu by any means. He’s got guts, and he takes care of his beloved bosses in more ways than they deserve. Her other unique OCs draw shining facets out from our favorite canon characters, which she writes with respect and even (dare I say) improves upon.
Basically she is a gem, an emerald? An opal? And we are very fortunate that she continues to give us more of what we’ve come to love from her!”
1127 Royal Street, 1936 (Shorpy Vintage Photos)
1127 Royal Street, 2007 (photo by gairid)
I-want-my-IWTV 