ooc; Ok, but let’s be honest. The most important casting call for a Tale of the Body Thief movie is who will play Mojo, considering he’s the actual star.
Are you the same Anon who asked me this a month ago? Why ask me when there are perfectly wonderful Lestat RPers who have full writeups about him, as well? I’ve listed them again at the end of this post.
I have alot of headcanons, and really, these are the seeds for fic/RPs. Headcanons come from canon, author interviews, and fanfic/RP. When they come from fanfic/RP, it’s ideas that fans have developed to answer the gaps left in canon, so they’re kind of preciously guarded until they are written into fic and released that way.
Go to my headcanon accepted tag for headcanons of others that I’ve agreed with ;] but gdi you twisted my arm, so here’s a little peek into my own headcanons… in general strokes. I wouldn’t say favorites. Just ideas that are floating around, begging to be written as fic. They apply to book!Lestat more than movie!Lestat, I guess.
Lestat’s birthday is November 7. This is undisputed. He always acts like he couldn’t care less, but if nothing happens that night, he’s wildly offended and can sulk for weeks or more afterwards. So Louis has calendar reminders far in advance so he can arrange an appropriately decadent outing/event/gift of some kind.
What do you get the man who has everything and can do anything? Experiences. Everyone in Lestat’s inner circle try to set aside the norm in order to try to give him a unique thrill for his birthday. More often than not they just decide to give him what he wants in the bedroom 😉
Lestat knows the date that he was turned and does not celebrate it, but spends it in service to others somehow; being kept busy for that entire night is especially important. He does not like to be in France on that night.
Lestat will lapse into paralysis when overcome with emotion, and Louis is the best at drawing him back out of it, with gentle touches and soothing words, or a little blood-dipped kiss, but even he usually just has to wait until Lestat resurfaces on his own. Sometimes Lestat is not himself if he’s “woken up” from it and it’s jarring to watch.
Lestat is a believer in Retail Therapy and has bought things immediately after or during an argument (even something as simple as a pair of shades at a gas station) in order to regain control of his emotions. It’s partly because he enjoys the whole exchange he has with the retail person.
Lestat had time to know his little sister, and mourned her loss, but didn’t write about it, ever, because it was too painful. She died young, she didn’t have enough hand-eye coordination developed yet to learn to hunt with him, but he wanted that for her so badly, and Gabrielle would have allowed it.
Lestat has a recent foot fetish. About his own feet. He can spend hours in a CVS picking out nail colors and he paints his toenails himself. He has 3 shoeboxes full of colors and glitters. Louis dislikes the smell, so Lestat will do it in the courtyard and wait until dry before showing off his artwork.
Lestat used to paint Claudia’s little fingernails. He did all sorts of girly activities with her, since it was difficult to find any children her age to befriend her.
I’m also tagging viaticumforthemarquise, who, as his mother, has her own headcanons about her son.
And merciful-death, who, as his #1 bitch, has his own headcanons about his maker.
“Another big problem was the script, which was written by Rice herself, taking her first shot at writing a screenplay. Pitt hadn’t seen it until two weeks before shooting started. When he finally did get a copy, he realized that everything in Rice’s book that was interesting about his character … was gone.
And so here he was, a rising young actor and budding sex symbol, stuck in an uninteresting, passive role.
"In the book you have this guy asking, ‘Who am I?’ Which was probably applicable to me at that time: ‘Am I good? Am I of the angels? Am I bad? Am I of the devil?’ In the book it is a guy going on this search of discovery. And in the meantime, he has this Lestat character that he’s entranced by and abhors. … In the movie, they took the sensational aspects of Lestat and made that the pulse of the film, and those things are very enjoyable and very good, but for me, there was just nothing to do — you just sit and watch.”
Brad Pitt, in an article by Mike Scott, NOLA.com | The Times-Picayune
#[ Interesting to read this ] #[ I’m inclined to agree with Brad Pitt ] #[ because while I do love the movie there’s definitely big differences between movie-Louis and book-Louis ] #[ going only off the movie you would think Louis to be passive ] #[ but in the book he’s got a lot more depth and definitely is not ‘passive’ ] #[ Louis doesn’t really shed that passivity until the burning of the theatre in the movie ] #[ while in the book you have him fighting Lestat from the start ] #[ and I will always find that scene with the priest a big turning point ] #[ which is why it makes me so sad that they scripted it but never filmed it ]
*Suddenly imagines Lestat complaining about the kitty hair on his new furniture*
“Are these a snack, mon cher? If you intend to keep all 10 of them as pets in our home, there will be consequences.” (*internally screaming* bc CAT HAIR ON RED VELVET CRIMINAL ACT)
Louis: “All eleven, you mean. This is Marcel, Jolie, Henriette, Murielle…what? Do you have a name preference? Cherie, Richelieu, Christophe…”
“Eleven, you say?” Lestat assumed a nonchalant pose to mask the inner turmoil, his annoyance at the transgressor sharpening into wit. “Perhaps we should enforce all dark-haired creatures in this house to wear collars, so we can better tell them apart.”
Harriet is the most understanding being I have ever had the pleasure to know. She’s perfectly understanding of my requirement for distance at times, followed by her presence upon my lap when it is wanted. She also “gets” my humor.
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.
I-want-my-IWTV 