Cutting Armand’s hair every night isn’t something new. He does it on his own sometimes, and he accommodates Daniel’s giddy, childish curiosity about it on those nights, too. It starts just with scissors, and then Daniel teaches him about electric clippers, and then it turns into crewcuts and flattops and elaborate patterns carved in. Daniel sometimes touches the tufts of hair that land in the sink and on the floor, and he rolls the strands between his fingers in rapt fascination.
“It doesn’t… feel like real hair,” he says one night. Mohawk tonight, and Armand runs a hand down his shorn scalp, just above the sideburn left behind, and even on a vampire it feels soft like peach fuzz. Daniel pulls a long lock from the sink and wraps it tight around his knuckle until his fingertip turns white.
“What do you mean, Daniel?”
“I don’t know, it feels…” unnatural. “Different.”
He shrugs and drops it, then touches the shaved side of Armand’s head, as well. He scratches behind Armand’s ear and it elicits a head tilt and a smile and soft purr.
“Hey, Armand?”
His eyes are closed and his head is still tilted towards Daniel’s hand, nuzzling the warmth in his palm. “Mmm?”
“Can we try to dye it? Do you think it would take?”
They start with a strip test. Daniel runs out and buys the bleach during the day so that they can try immediately when Armand wakes up. At first it’s just a streak that comes up from his forehead and curls around his face. It takes longer than it should on regular hair, but they’re not worried about the damage it might cause, and Armand doesn’t seem to feel it burning where it’s too low against his scalp. Hours later and it’s done and they can’t stop touching it. Daniel can’t stop combing his fingers through it and marveling at the way it twists in with the other curls. Armand keeps it for three nights before he cuts it off and starts again.
Then it’s his whole head one night, and it takes hours for the auburn to burn down to a pale yellow, almost white. Daniel inspects it every night, curious to know if the Dark Gift will restore the stripped cells and pleased to learn that it does not. The hair still feels unnatural but doesn’t feel damaged the way human hair would. Several times, he catches Armand frozen in place, staring at himself in the mirror with his knuckles against his mouth, and it’s an expression he doesn’t know how to read.
“Can I straighten it?” he asks one night, and It takes hours and way too much hair spray because the curls keep creeping back into place, and eventually Daniel settles for snapping a quick Polaroid before they all pop back in, so that he can have this one memento of the ten minutes Armand had straight blonde hair. They try it again a few nights later with Aqua Net in an aerosol can and wind up with some approximation of Siousxie hair, and even though Daniel thinks it looks cute, Armand mumbles something about being too flammable and washes it out as soon as he can.
And finally there’s the trip to Manic Panic on St. Marks, and the cat hisses at them when they come in, and Armand stares at it coldly as his skin gleams in the ugly fluorescent light, and the girls behind the counter delight in advising them on all the best colors, and they’re nervous, they can feel something is off but can’t figure out what, but they’re still drawn to the danger, as seduced by it as Daniel is. He and Armand leave with one of every color.
Daniel tries a purple on himself, and his hair is light enough that it takes without bleach, and he’s stained the tops of his ears and the corner of his forehead. Armand goes with a dark green. The excess never permeates his skin, because nothing really ever does, and afterward Daniel can’t stop staring at the way it lights up the amber color of his eyes.
But Daniel’s fades after a few washes, and he stares at the way the color tints the shampoo bubbles, and the way it rinses and drips through his fingers. Stark and vivid against the white porcelain tub. And he sees the way it dissolves, night after night, from something lively and exciting to something dull, while Armand’s stays as bright and vital as ever.
And when he’s tired of it, Armand shaves his hair off so that it’ll grow back normal. And Daniel’s remains a fucking mess.
i imagine louis does a pretty spot on lestat too although no one knows it, but one day he does it in front of everyone and they’re all just staring at him bc they thought he was ~above~ all of this lol
Marius can only do a spot on Marius
I mean let’s be fair to Marius, he can probably do an amazing Enkil.
Wouldn’t you just, like, sit very still? For millenia?
(only Khayman can judge Marius’ Enkil impression but he never does)(bc Khayman is a cinnamon roll)(Khayman’s impressions suck but are very charming anyway)
Lost Photographs from Daniel’s Missing Luggage, or,
Glimpses of an Unlife
I’m taking stupid photos at SFO when all the televisions flash red for breaking news. Jeez, I think, another bombing or political scandal. We’re being warned about graphic footage. Huh. New York’s getting two more inches of snow. Well, that sucks.
I must be dreaming, because his face—that’s Armand’s face on the screen!
This is wrong.
The footage is shaky and I can feel the panic threading its way through my body as I watch, helpless, when he screams something at the plaza. Even though I don’t know what’s going on, I know it’s him. It’s the way his hair curls when there’s snow on it, and it’s when—it’s wh—
New York’s getting two more inches of snow and, and they won’t—everyone is staring at me. Everyone, and they—it’s just two more inches of snow in New York. Have I fucked up? Did someone see my fangs—New York’s getting two more inches of snow and the footage keeps looping. I’m being yanked backwards and someone’s shoved me onto my knees and the floor slams into my jaw and suddenly I hear screaming.
It’s me. I’m screaming. Daniel Molloy is now screaming at Gate 7. Daniel Molloy is now screaming at Gate 7. They’re cuffing me and I can’t—
“FUCKING—TURN IT OFF!” I scream at them in ugly, gulping sobs, and someone gags me with a leather strap and one of them figures it out and tries to call on his walkie talkie but they won’t turn me away I can’t look away that’s not what he’s supposed to look like he doesn’t like the cold but now he’s burning.
i’m delegating my hugging duties to dogs. to all dogs. don’t worry, they’re great at it. discuss the terms of your hug with the next dog you meet. he’ll know what you’re talking about. (if you’re allergic to fur, i recommend a snake. they are also excellent huggers.)
and since im talking about snakes anyways, here’s a snake story. i didn’t get to see this one first hand, but us 107th guys spent a bit of time with the Star-Spangled Showgirls after the rescue, and a lovely lady named molly told me about this.
molly’s still around, and she tells this story much better than me, but you’ll have to make do with my version.
when the star-spangled show was on tour, they went all over the country, hitting every major city they could, and some not-so-major cities in between. in the major cities, they had proper opera houses and concert venues to use. in smaller towns…not so much. school gyms, community centers, and public park bandstands all hosted steve’s spangly ass. they found dressing rooms where they could, but often they had to share, since the show included some fifty-odd female performers, and the only male actors were steve and hitler. (…the guy who played hitler. the real hitler was pretty busy being a huge jerkwad somewhere in germany at that point.) so sometimes steve and fake-adolph wound up with a curtained-off corner of the girl’s dressing room.
which was pretty much the setup in nowheresville, arizona. they were in a community center, and the dressing room was an indoor tennis court. steve and the hitlerganger were chatting and waiting for the girls to give them the ‘we’re decent, you can come out’ all clear, when the screaming started.
you ever hear fifty terrified showgirls screaming? it’s a miracle that none of the windows shattered.
anyway, steve and hitler came charging out to see what was happening. half the girls were standing on top of the makeup tables and chairs, mostly ringed around one corner. steve had had the presence of mind to grab his shield, and he pushed his way (gently, because he’s polite to ladies) through the crowd to see what was up.
in the corner was a snake. steve swears it was five feet if it was an inch. molly says it was two feet, max.
steve, having no idea what to do but doomed to heroism anyway, did what steve always does when he’s stymied: he threw his shield at it.
well, not at it. technically, his shield landed on top of it, so that it was trapped in the concave part. steve jumped after and held the shield down so it couldn’t get out. crisis averted!
crisis not averted. this was steve’s original kite shield, not the dome shield howard made him. which meant that the snake very easily slid out the open side, and promptly bit steve in the hand.
steve screamed. a window shattered from the pitch. (or at least, a window shattered when molly tells the story. steve says she’s lying, but he also gets really, really red, so…)
as steve contemplated his imminent death by snake venom, ruby, who was from arizona, stepped up and grabbed the snake. it let go of steve, and she stood there, holding it, until steve opened his eyes.
molly said she’s never saw a better ‘really very unimpressed’ face than ruby’s right then.
ruby held up the snake and said, ‘steven. this is a milk snake. they’re harmless. you just scared the daylights out of this poor thing.’ and then she made steve take the snake and carry it outside.
molly says steve held that snake the way most girls would hold a dead rat, but by the time they found a suitable spot to release it, he’d made friends and decided to name it gary.
steve watched gary slide off into the underbrush. and then he turned around and realized he was surrounded by partially-dressed showgirls, many of whom were still in their underwear, and went bright, flaming red.
It took a little getting used to, but human beings have always been adaptable, and becoming a vampire didn’t change that. I don’t have memories of cutting my lips or doing any significant damage, but I do remember dealing with the sensation of longer teeth. It was definitely an adjustment, though not so big of one as worth mentioning.
Every vampire’s fangs are different. I’ve never mentioned that, have I? Some of us have two, some four, some six. By this I am speaking of teeth along the top of your mouth, not the bottom–Louis and I have joked before during discussions that perhaps the number of fangs have something to do with the appetite, but in reality I’ve no idea what the deciding factor is.
I have primaries, secondaries, and tertiaries, as did Claudia, though Louis only has primaries and secondaries. Gabrielle is the same as Louis–four fangs.
My maker had primaries only–I do remember that.
Honestly, someone ought to do a scientific study of all one day. I’m sure the Talamasca has all sorts of interesting information regarding it buried away somewhere.
I just don’t understand. How come Lestat could kick Armand’s ass into the ground like that anyways back at Palais Royal that time? Sure, he caught him by surprise or wtv, so????? I mean, he was like what? Three hundred and something? Wasn’t Marius like 1500 years when he turned him and yeah okay, I get it Magnus was old but was he that old? And this blonde bitch Lestat was like twenty holy shit.
These are the questions that keep me up at night.
i’m still pissed over this and i’ll keep reblogging it untill someone gives me a reasonable explanation
I think it has a lot to do with the fact that Lestat is “fearless” and a lot of times in VC world the vampires need to embrace their strength to wield it. Armand would’ve had strength if he tapped into it, between the advantage of his age and from Marius’s blood, but he was living underground and not really using it and honing it. Marius explains that a lot in B&G, too, like he would talk about how he’d make these little discoveries and have to practice them and teach Mael and Avicus how to use them because they were like oblivious dumb dumbs and weren’t exercising their GIFTS. And it happens in QOTD, too, with Akasha teaching Lestat how to use the Cloud Gift and all that shit, and it has to do with having the balls to let go and let the Blood guide you and all that. I think a lot of vampires secretly acquire these things and they lay dormant until the vampire has the balls the try them on.
So Lestat, I think, hits the ground running and is willing to push himself, whereas Armand has been rigidly following these coven rules and repressing himself for centuries and doesn’t know how to vampire.
♛Lestat here. Louis and I had a wonderful dog, which took some time for him to warm up to as he had nearly killed the poor creature the first time they met! Mojo remembered that, but having such a large heart, Mojo was able to forgive and forget.
There was a cat that made her home with us, a black cat named Harriet. Louis informed me that that was her name.* She is tolerable. I mean, she only lets Louis pet her so you can see why I’m not overly fond of her!
Animals are instinctively wary of us, it’s been a painful side effect of being what we are that dogs in particular often see us as threats and their startled owners are left flustered with apologies like “She never acts this way around strangers normally!” and that sort of thing. Dogs were a great source of solace for me in my youth and I know that Louis loved horses. I have frightened horses into compliance but it’s not the same as the caring relationship one can have with a beloved pet *sighs*
What type of pet would we like if we could have our choice? Louis has always been fond of birds, so I would say that he’d like a pair of lovebirds, or an a talking bird like an African Gray parrot. I’m sure he’d prefer I not teach it curse words, but you know that I would have to do that!
Personally I find large cats like tigers compelling and would love to have one, but I love my interior decoration more, and those two things do not mix. As much of a gentleman as Mojo was, a number of vases and statues fell to their deaths due to an accidentally wagging tail or… admittedly… our impromptu wrestling matches *grins*
//As somebody who got their last mark/grade on all of their egyptology exams at the University today and finally passed, I want to set my inner history nerd free:
(sources are to be found at the bottom or within the text)
Enkil is supposed to be a predynastic King.
So what is the Predynastic Era to begin with? According to most historians that would be the Neolithic period (a.k.a. New Stone Age!), beginning ca. 6000 BC, with the first human settlements known in the area and ending around 3100 BC, with the first Pharaoh (= Narmer/Menes).
That’s right. Enkil’s reign as a predynastic king could very roughly(!) be placed somewhere in between 6000 BC to 3100 BC. For reference and amusement: the creation of writing is roughly to be sat about 5000 years ago (which marks the beginning of history).
Now, we can’t have the Father of all Vampires be Stone Age man, can we? Let’s try to narrow that time frame down a bit:
I think, since Anne Rice describes some sort of a holding of court, we are pretty safe in ruling the time of the earliest settlements out (little mud brick houses consisting of only one window-less room for a whole family and the earliest form of homo sapiens as subject just don’t make for an epic court to rule over.)
Egyptologists speak of a so called Naqada culture, spanning from ca. 4400 BC to 3000 BC, which can be divided into the following three parts:
Naqada I (4400-3500 BC) -> almost no refined artwork/craftsmanship
Naqada II (3500-3200 BC) -> first metalworking (meteoritical iron)
Naqada III (3200-3000 BC)
We can skip the first two Naqada periods, since there wasn’t really any (known) form of sovereignty comparable to the rule of a king.
Which leads us to Naqada III: Naqada III is also referred to as Dynasty 0 or the Protodynastic Period.
Here is the issue with chronology within the subject of Egyptology: When the early egyptologists tried to name dynasties there were multiple debates and, like every time when too many big egos are involved, things went wrong. To make things short: There is now a time called “Zero Dynasty” (which comes before the 1st dyn.), which might be characterized as Predynastic by some and Early Dynastic by others.
There were kings in Naqada III, but they weren’t part of a dynasty yet (hence Protodynastic or Predynastic). Most of them were most likely not related (a dynasty is the succession of kings of the same blood line), but fighting for dominion with each other. The above mentioned King Narmer (aka Menes) is thought to be the last King of that period and the first Pharaoh of the 1st dynasty(He had been the first known King to unify Egypt).
In conclusion, Enkil’s reign should precede Narmer, but still be set in Naqada III, around 3200-3100 BC.
(We managed to narrow his reign down to 100 years, yay!)
There are, actually, some known Kings from that time that could give us an example for Enkil’s reign, or – which I find very interesting – a possible alias. Stay with me for a bit longer.
9 of them ruled in Lower Egypt, but only one can be placed in Naqada III for sure (forgive me for leaving out the rest): That King is known as “Double Falcon”, after the depiction of his crest (they didn’t use cartouches by then but crests known as serekh and the historians named them after the depicted animals). Some say he might also have ruled in Upper Egypt. 3 kings are known to have ruled Upper Egypt during Naqada III: “Elephant”, “Bull” and “Scorpion I.”
Bull was probably the predecessor of Scorpion I., whose successor is believed to have been Double Falcon and later a king names Iry-Hor (late 32th dynasty.Iry-Hor is the earliest ruler of Egypt known by name and possibly the earliest historical person known by name). No one knows for sure where to place Elephant. All of them are believed to have lived during the early 32th century BC (which allows us to place them near the year 3200 BC to 3150 BC).
Iry-Hor was succeeded by “Ka”/”Sekhen”, who was probably succeeded by “Scorpion II.” or, more probable, by Narmer himself.
Now we have a sorry excuse of a chronology of rulers close to Enkil’s mortal years, ending with Narmer:
Bull
Scorpion I.
Double Falcon
Iry-Hor
Ka (Sekhen)
Scorpion II. or Narmer (Menes)
As you can see, there is a line of succession, albeit not one you should bet on, since egyptologists are still not 100% sure about the line of succession. BUT: Where to place Elephant?
Enkil was the Pharaoh, whose throne-name was Pen-abu (“Great one from the (throne) seat”) how fitting. Historians how call him “Elephant” and he was the predecessor of “Bull”, one of the earliest rulers of Naqada III period, in the early 32. dynasty.
I-want-my-IWTV 