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gorgeous-fiend:

There are some mortals I look at who will never meet their full potential because they are either too afraid or too lazy. There is a deep unrest in these people- they hate themselves. I see them everywhere: walking past my house, in the streets, in libraries, in malls, on trains. Their self-loathing, perhaps it is even subconscious-  permeates the space they take up and keeps them stagnate like an old rank pond.

I want to shake them, to scream at them,  “Stop wasting your life before a fiend like me comes along and snatches it away! There is so much passion bottled inside you, must I tap into it,  pour myself a glass of your very life  and hold it in front of  your eyes before I swallow it down? Will you get how important you are then?” And perhaps they would, but by that time it would be too late.

“TL;DR” shut up it’s only 2 paras, ^READTHIS thankyoubye.

In Blackwood Farm, Lestat says his name is “compounded of the first letter of each of my six older brothers’ names.” Is that true? Whose brilliant idea was that? Were you that disinterested in choosing an actual name for him?

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viaticumforthemarquise:

-sighs-

This is a falsehood. 

When he was very young, his brothers (not known for their kindness), told him this story. They made it quite clear to him that his parents, having no love left for him after six children, took the laziest route possible in naming him. 

This is, of course, an utter lie. I’ve already told the story here of Lestat’s naming—and I’ve also explained this to him many times (he tends to accept this story as a part of his own mythology, unfortunately). 

He does, from time to time, need reminding that his name, just like my love for him, was not accidental in nature. He is, and ever will be, my Lestat. Thus I named him, and thus I keep him. 

And his brothers are dead. So there’s that. 

(he tends to accept this story as a part of his own mythology, unfortunately).He picks and chooses his own mythology, for SURE.

ooc; Also Bad Dream because again, I love the pain of Louis/Lestat angst

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gorgeous-fiend-blog:

Master Drabble List

  • 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.

My dream life has never been very subtle.

i am a huuuge fan of your Louis! question: how much do you plot out with the other muns for the long prose threads like “to Suffer Together” ? Like, do you agree on the action and dialogue first before drafting, and/or send eachother a draft of your response before posting?

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merciful-death:

ooc; Thank you so much!  I can’t speak for everyone of course, but for myself, no, that much plotting doesn’t usually go into it.  With that thread with primusdux, we’d just decided to do a catatonic-post-Memnoch thread and go from there.  Some threads are even more spontaneous, ie the mortal!Louis thread I have going with gorgeous-fiend, which we didn’t plot out in general and just happened.

Every now and then a thread will come up where further plot is discussed prior to it happening (generally with a character that’s obviously much stronger than Louis and might bring him harm; which I generally give the other RPer permission to do whatever because I love torturing characters I love), but I tend to usually just go with the flow.  I’ve not sent my replies to people prior to posting them and haven’t honestly had anyone do that to me either.

Gallery

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futuresaad:

this is the best twitter account ever

People Off the Page: use these as RP starters. Some suggestions:

Lestat: “My butt’s on fire!”

Armand: “I WON’T TRY NOT TO YELL!”

Louis: “You’re not exactly winning, but you’re doing a really nice job.”

Claudia: “I’m sorry that I’m crying but the sun is touching me.”

Akasha: “You’re making me feel like a criminal!”

Gabrielle: “If you don’t call me ever again I’ll love you forever.”

Source: futuresaad

Kissed

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merciful-death:

Send 'Kissed' and I’ll generate a number from 1 to 45 to determine where your muse has kissed mine and how my muse reacts!
5. Lips

They’d argued again tonight, or rather, Armand had stood before him, exasperated as he pleaded with Louis to feel again, to love him, be joyous with him, whilst Louis himself had simply sat apathetic in his chair, listening more closely to the music of Frank Sinatra that played upon their radio than to his companion of years.

He’d died within that courtyard with her eighty-some years ago, and no matter how much or often Armand wished to prop up his walking corpse and attempt to appease him, little would change the fact that he now felt nothing.  Louis was certain it would be only a short stretch of time before the elder vampire left him, and yet he felt nothing for that either.

It had been sudden—Armand’s lips crushing themselves against his, Louis’ eyes widening only slightly in reaction.  The kiss expressed all that his companion—lover—had spoken of, yet allowed him no room to ignore.

For a quick and fleeting moment, his heart clenched with realization that perhaps in some other circumstances, they could have been happy.

My Scholar, My Victim, My Love

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gorgeous-fiend:

There is a peculiar  irony that the healthiest and brightest relationship I have ever had has been wrought from quite possibly my most despicable act of depravity to date. I do not dwell much on it- possibly out of some sort of suppressed shame, but most likely because I simply do not see the point.  Of course, I am  thankful and quite frankly astounded things  turned out as well they did, as I  fully expected David to hate me from now to eternity- whenever that may be for him.

What surprises me  even more is  how willing I was  to grant David his autonomy. And how easy it was.  Almost immediately after our short-lived holiday to Rio de Janeiro, we had parted ways. It had not been sad at all. We  did not leave each other on bad terms, quite the opposite it fact. Instead, we left with a profound understanding of one another and a camaraderie I confess to have never known. Even among my brothers in the Auvergne I had not felt such kinship. Especially not among my brothers.  And had it ever been so simple with the others? Absolutely not.

Nicolas had been a mistake, I am willing to admit it now after so many years, hailed into the blood by his maker’s blindness and foolhardy sense of justice.  Despite the love between us there will forever be a rift between myself and Gabrielle that will never fully satisfy and will always drive us away from one another. And I had all but strangled Louis and Claudia in my fear and desperation for love. But David- my scholar, my victim, my love- saw me and accepted  me. Knew me  for the monster I was and still loved me. Even when  my betrayal sucked him down to the pits of darkness, David’s devotion outweighed his anger. I should be ashamed of myself, but I am not. I would do it to him one thousand times over.