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tampered2007-06-19 04:50 am
gentlequill.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-06-19 04:50 am
Log: Ongoing.
When; 19th June.
Rating; PG-13.
Characters; Louis de Pointe du Lac (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gentlequill) and Claudia de Lioncourt/de Pointe du Lac (sansfinpetit).
Summary; Louis and Claudia reunite upon Louis' entrance into the city.
Log;
Louis's footsteps were silent as he drifted through the streets of the city, reaching the square in what seemed to be an odd transition of time and space. But then, his sense of time was unlike that of others, or so he had been told time and time again. He did not know whether the moment had seemed too long or too short, whether he was eager to see Claudia, or whether he dreaded it. As his eyes traced the floor, adjusting to the shape around him and watching others walk past, late and dark as it was, he paused. None of them were that familiar petite figure. None of them were the one Louis sought and had missed so desperately. Her memory had been a scar to his heart in so many ways, her loss something he had hardly borne. His rage had been terrible to behold, his destruction of the theatre in Paris the warning to others not to cross him. Louis's grief was a powerful thing, capable of reducing the target of his malice to ashes.
And then, the familiar tap of small steps, and he turned slowly, looking for the source of them. His mind wrote the thought in exquisite lettering for him, lilting in the air on the edge of infinite possibility...and hope that he had believed to have died with her and his separation from Lestat.
Claudia?
Rating; PG-13.
Characters; Louis de Pointe du Lac (
gentlequill) and Claudia de Lioncourt/de Pointe du Lac (sansfinpetit).Summary; Louis and Claudia reunite upon Louis' entrance into the city.
Log;
Louis's footsteps were silent as he drifted through the streets of the city, reaching the square in what seemed to be an odd transition of time and space. But then, his sense of time was unlike that of others, or so he had been told time and time again. He did not know whether the moment had seemed too long or too short, whether he was eager to see Claudia, or whether he dreaded it. As his eyes traced the floor, adjusting to the shape around him and watching others walk past, late and dark as it was, he paused. None of them were that familiar petite figure. None of them were the one Louis sought and had missed so desperately. Her memory had been a scar to his heart in so many ways, her loss something he had hardly borne. His rage had been terrible to behold, his destruction of the theatre in Paris the warning to others not to cross him. Louis's grief was a powerful thing, capable of reducing the target of his malice to ashes.
And then, the familiar tap of small steps, and he turned slowly, looking for the source of them. His mind wrote the thought in exquisite lettering for him, lilting in the air on the edge of infinite possibility...and hope that he had believed to have died with her and his separation from Lestat.
Claudia?