What I consider “special” might seem mundane to others. This year, I was grateful to have Lestat with me, as there were many years without him. Each year he asks me what I wish for, what physical objects he can give, places we might go. He wants to know if I want a coven gathering or to just keep to ourselves. I usually choose the latter, but I receive cards to our P.O. box from the coven from all over the world. How do they know it’s my birthday? I’ve never even met some of them.
Every year I’ve been able to do so, I tell him I’m content to just have him with me.
Despite my reticence to ask for anything, he always finds an object that has some meaning to me, perhaps an early edition of a favorite novel with the author’s notations, or he will make a “happening” in which we awaken to a string quartet playing works from one of my favorite composers in our candlelit courtyard. He won’t force me to dance; we curl up together in a rattan chaise, with pillows and plush blankets, to enjoy the music.
After that, he sometimes blindfolds me and we take flight to some other destination. This year, we went to Portland’s Rose Test Garden in Oregon. Roses of so many different colors and scents, some more like citrus, others more like honey… it was a truly unique experience.
We stayed there in the garden for two nights, where I expressed my appreciation to him. I won’t go into more detail on that. Some nights, we sleep in the dirt, as if we were a part of nature. Lestat gently excavated me on the second night, waking up with the film of good clean dirt was almost like a rebirth. Seeing his face with the backdrop of the starry night sky, his hands carefully wiping my face clean as he spoke gentle words to me, that was a special gift.
♠ *a smile tugs at his lips, considering his responses*
*writing:*“By now, after decades of his antics, he hardly has any new tricks to pull, just variations on the old ones. And I know how to firmly put him in his place when necessary. So, I’d say, not terribly hard.”
*Louis stretches, glances at Lestat across the room* “It has been a learning experience, shall we say? I had to learn his noises, his expressions. He doesn’t always say what he means, or mean what he says. He also knows how far he can push me before I’ll snap. Still, he has to test that boundary.”
“One might think that needing to learn his language renders him unlovable. On the contrary, I understand now that his pestering about my fashion choices, and the like, it isn’t simple berating, it’s more that he wants my attention, like a puppy nipping at the fingers of his human companion. No harm is actually intended, it’s merely a less vulnerable means of begging for attention and care.”
“ ‘Putting up with’ also includes the situations he hurls himself into despite my advice, and I do fear for his safety more often than I’d like. Strong as he is… I don’t want to think of him truly in peril. Yet. He insists on testing those boundaries, too. That’s when it’s the most hard, for me.”
“Just so, one loop over the other, then under and through…” he said, the laces of Claudia’s shoes forming into a bow under his nimble fingers. “And pull tight, ma chérie. Simple as that.” Without a moment’s hesitation, her little fingers tugged the laces back open and tried now, for the very first time, to tie them on her own.
They sat on the carpet, her body curled forward in concentration, whispering the directions again to herself as he smiled down above her. He reached out and tucked a stray golden curl behind her ear and she spared him not one bit of attention.
In the warm light of the lamps, I watched them from across the room. We had been together now for some four years, Lestat and I. In that time, I had rarely seen this expression on his face. When he seduced his victims it was with rapt attention, his tongue flicking at his fangs imperceptibly to them, so vulgar to me. He would slink towards me catlike after killing and it was similarly intoxicating. I would let him take what he wanted, and there was lust for him, his wandering hands and whispered praise, but was that love? It left me satisfied, guilty, confused.
This was new, he was patient with the child, embraced her not to consume but with compassion. Their laughter lent a sparkle to the space I had shared with him alone. Together they brought things out of me I assumed I did not have.
“I did it!” said Claudia, her face upturned to him brightly. “Bravo!” he applauded with polite clapping as if at an opera. She shifted position, undid her bow and busied herself with tying it again.
It was in that moment that he glanced at me, his smile still tender and gentle, I felt my heart trip and stop for an instant. He waved me over and I came, entranced. He gestured for my foot. “Oh no, it looks as if,” in one fluid motion he hooked a finger in and opened my shoelaces. “Papa Noir’s laces need tying, whatever shall we-”
“Me,” said Claudia, starting already for the laces. “I’ll fix them for you.” I felt Lestat’s hand on my ankle, his nail lightly stroking my skin, then move up, squeezing my calf as we watched her together. That was the moment I fell in love with him.
It’s a touchy subject, recommending blogs, as inevitably I’ll leave someone out and then they may feel, well, LEFT OUT :-
(BTW I respond to asks for Louis with ♠ in the #louis muse tag, so you can ask him things, but he can’t go on to do full threads)
I don’t follow as many RP blogs as I used to, it was too much to keep up with the various threads, some have gone inactive, new ones have started up… All attempts to make VC directories usually fail.
However, and that said, so you know I’m not playing favorites, there are some I remember by name or saw in the notes for this roundup post, and so I tagged them below, but this is an incomplete list. Let’s make this an Ask Louis and Louis RPer roundup! People Off The Page, reblog/comment with any Ask Louis and Louis RPer blog I left out 😉
(active-status not guaranteed):
@merciful-death – rarely active but their archive might interest you
♠ (Louis) *sighs* “Lestat cries far more than I do, it’s been thoroughly accounted for in his voluminous memoirs… his “wahmbulance” treatment consists of an enormous amount of ego stroking and retail therapy. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.”
♠Lestat is confused as to why you’re directing your questions to me, he’s trying to force me to answer what he would answer, but I am pointedly ignoring him.
It’s not of great interest to me, but I will note that he has gone to considerable research about brushing teeth, he and Daniel bring home these little “self-care” packages: toothpaste of different flavors, devices that spray water or have vibrating bristles, and they test these items out on fruit or each other. I sometimes participate.
There are nights that Lestat returns to me from hunting and his breath is truly atrocious, so he has to do some level of cleansing to be permitted within my personal space. I follow the same etiquette for his sake.
In the past, we would have a basin and would wash before going out, and before going to sleep for the day. Little mortal rituals like these keep us feeling that we have some semblance to humanity still, and perhaps, it is also restorative in the way many acts of taking care of oneself are restorative.
However, it’s not necessary for us to brush our teeth in much the same way, I suppose, as it is unnecessary for wild animals. Perhaps it’s because we do not consume cooked meat, refined sugars, or flavored drinks. Fareed suggests that we have saliva with a high Ph value, which protects the enamel from demineralizing and thus prevents cavities.
♠ I’m not betraying his confidence by sharing this, as he brings it up in conversation whenever he can.
He loves art and, inspired by this tourist, Lestat scattered rose petals and then stripped nude in a museum in New York to fully appreciate some his favorite paintings and sculptures.
The museum was closed, thankfully, but Daniel was with us. It was… very awkward.
I-want-my-IWTV 