VAMPIRE CHRONICLES WORK DOODLES. Something to do when I donât feel like talking during lunch lol.
1. Armand and Daniel with morning coffee.
2. Sybelle and Armand (lil papa Armand)
3. Louis, concerned.
4. Lestat with a puppy, inspired by the adorable puppy drabble by @monstersinthecosmos
5. Armand taking Louis on a flight.
6. What weâve all been waiting for. Armand and Lestat finally bury the hatchet.
Armand could feel the extra energy as he came through the carriageway into the back garden. Not completely sure what it was, only that he could sense them moving in the flat, and there was something sweet and playful and innocent infused in it, thrumming beneath the presence itself. Lestat was home, he could feel that as well, and Louis. Their energies were different from each other, each palpable and distinct. Lestat felt bold and loud and vivid, Louis soft and sweet and comforting. Lestat was a popping champagne bottle, the splatter of paint on a Pollock canvas, a firework in the night sky. Louis was a gentle hand on your back, reassuring whisper in your ear, the slow and seductive pull of dawn.
Iâm here, he told them as he ascended the stairs. He wondered if he should let himself inside, or knock, but instead put his hands in his pockets and waited.
But then Lestatâs face was in the window, his eyes glittery and excited, skin darkened by the recent trip to the sun. The door opened on its own, Lestatâs doing, and it was instantly obvious that heâd chosen to use his mind because his hands were full.
Before he could speak, Lestat extended one arm out, in his hand a single German Shepherd puppy. Three others wiggled against his chest and he cooed in French at them. âHere,â he said, and thrust the one into Armandâs chest. Armand grabbed it instinctively, somewhat bewildered but immediately charmed by the warmth and purity radiating from the creature. âI named this one Armand.â
The spike of anger and reflexive venomous response that usually came out in these moments were quelled by the gentle life in his hands, and he looked away from Lestat to stare at it. It was kicking its legs and squirming but he gave it a little scratch behind its ear to calm it down. It stopped moving and looked at him, eyes so shiny and black, and responded by licking his face. Armand ducked his head so that Lestat wouldnât see his smile.
âCome inside, I want to close the door. Donât let them out,â Lestat said, and backed away to make space.
He saw Louis then, when he cleared the doorway, still snuggling his namesake to his chest. Sitting cross-legged on the velvet couch, Mojo curled up beside him, a solid black puppy in his hands. He was scratching its ears and smiling at it andâŠ
Strange ache in his chest, because heâd never seen that look on Louisâs face before.
âWhere did all these puppies come from?â he asked. Louis looked up at him as if waking from a trance, like heâd been too absorbed to even notice Armand had arrived.
âTurns out Mojo is a lady,â Lestat said. He plopped down on the floor in the center of the room and took turns giving each puppy pats on their heads. They climbed on his legs and chewed on his shirt.
He held his puppy away from his face to inspect it again. It tilted its head at him and whined, and⊠strange ache again as he realized how unusual it was, and how he was straining to remember last time heâd held an animal this close. At home, in Kiev. They could never keep pets in Venice. He felt cold all over for a moment before pulling it to his chest again, feeling its warm little body settling against him and hearing the fluttery little heartbeat.
âWhat are you going to do with them?â
Lestat shrugged and picked one up, rubbing his face against its chubby, furry belly.
âWhy donât you give one to Daniel? Maybe you can win him back.â
âMinnesota, hm? We do travel to places to ski and romp in the piles of white stuff that we wouldnât get in New Orleans. Might have to go there nextâŠ
We love lounging in a cozy cabin to watch the snow fall outside the windows⊠nothing quite like the inner peace and contemplation snowfall can bring.Â
Yes, we love snow. Most of us arenât bothered by the cold. Louis is, and he will allow me to bundle him in enough layers so he can ski with us, or build snowmen and igloos. However, when heâs warm enough from a fresh kill, he just might strip off enough layers to regain flexibility of movement, he is a masterful snowball assassin, slinking around the forest like a ninja!Â
I call Armand âPanchinoâ sometimes and he doesnât know whyâŠ
ââClaudia, did Louis really gave that to you? Please donât lie to me, ma petiteâŠâ Lestat sighed. He reached out to pet the dogâs soft floppy ears.
âNo, we cannot keep a puppy. Who would play with her all day when weâre asleep? It wouldnât be fair to her.â More truly, Lestat was concerned about the inevitable damage to their home during the day, and, that Claudia might get hungry one night and kill the poor animal herself. This had happened before with a rabbit, she spent nights sobbing remorsefully over it, and none of them needed to endure that again.