When he was very small, too small to be more than a warm bundle in her arms, she had begun to whisper to him in Italian. With this child she had refused to have a wet nurse—this was the first and the only to sleep and suckle sweetly at her breast, his little milky mouth grasping at her, his hands caressing her absently, patting her gently before his eyes closed into a world of soft infant dreams. And so it was that she held him to her, softly murmuring the language of her thoughts to his small pink ears, creating within him a keeping place for her memories and her precious lost Naples.
When he grew older, too old to be held or petted, she could not help but wonder what, if anything, he had retained of her lyrical secrets. Occasionally she’d catch a slipped word in another language from his child-speak, his syntax already questionable at an early age. He seemed confused sometimes, not sure if there was a difference between sognare and rêver, mixing his tongues into an amalgamation which only she seemed to comprehend.
Already she knew: they would never understand him, no matter how good his French.
Tag Archives: viaticumforthemarquise
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?
-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.
Selfies
Her favourite gift that Lestat had given her was not, as he might hope, the cellular mobile phone with which she might communicate with him. She carried that little device purely so that he would not rail at her upon her infrequent returns to him.
No, it was instead the gift he’d give to her for her birthday (or was it Christmas?) in 2012: the Olympus OM-D camera.
With this she had begun to document her travels, to capture images of parts of the world no mortal had ever seen. She took photo after photo, enchanted by the way in which the camera could capture light, even in darkness, and by its ability to also capture her own visage and form at play within her locales.
Perhaps it was a boon to Lestat, too—she sent him emails and books filled with photos now—not often, no, but enough that her communication with him became what he might even call constant.
Sometimes she might send a photograph of herself behind the curtain of a waterfall, taken carefully at night with the use of the quick shutter and the artful little timer. Sometimes it was the animals she encountered in the canopies of trees.
But her favourite way to tease him was to send images taken with the camera in hand, turned towards herself, whatever location she’d found herself in behind her. She might, if he was lucky, offer a small smile. He had told her that these were called “selfies,” in this modern day, a type of self-portrait. Though she failed to see the allure, she knew it tickled him to receive them.
if i sigh loudly enough will all of my problems go away
Louis de Pointe du Lac, are your ears burning?
Gabrielle de Lioncourt
What are you waiting for, the church to pronounce it a miracle? ((Independent RP blog for Gabrielle…ooc: Seriously one of the best Gabrielle’s I’ve seen! Give her a follow, she’s a gem!
“But when she moved towards the man she wasn’t human at all. She had become a pure predator, as only a beast can be a predator, and yet she was a woman…” -Lestat, The Vampire Lestat
Imagine your OTP attempting phone sex (and failing hilariously).
ooc; Oh, I’m almost POSITIVE that Louis and Lestat have had phone sex. In fact, I’m sure they call each other when the other is at something super serious, like a business meeting or meeting with the accountants, and begin REALLY inappropriate conversation that makes the other weak in the knees. =D
Gabrielle de Lioncourt
((Independent RP blog for Gabrielle de Lioncourt from The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice.
RP account tracks the tag “viaticumforthemarquise”))
OMG you guys, new Gabrielle RP! Go play w/ her ❤
I-want-my-IWTV 