tampered | Log; Incomplete

Log; Incomplete

When; Monday, December 29th, Evening
Rating; PG
Characters; Lestat

witchinbloom
Summary; Lestat thinks people who are nervous around vampires are amusing. He volunteers himself and Gren to give one of these people a tour.
Log; He probably shouldn't be this amused. However, he couldn't help himself. To meet yet another person who felt nervous around vampires...well, he is just enjoying that. Really, so few people here have anything to fear from him. Except the Underground criminals. But that is such a minor detail.

Still, he'd asked Gren if he would like to come. Now they were both waiting at a rather central location for the girl. The fountain to be precise. Basically anyone could find it. Even for someone getting a tour. Meeting Tara in person could be interesting.

Looking over at Gren, he couldn't resist the smile he gave him. "I forgot to mention. I told her that you were a former soldier and could protect her from me if I did anything terribly evil."

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Sometimes when he hears Lestat talk about his childhood, he feels so sad for him. It makes any problems he might have had absolutely pale in comparison. There's no real point in feeling sad over it, but he's soft and sentimental and if he could, he'd go back in time and take the pain away.

Then again, maybe he wouldn't. It might change what he has now, and that would be really sad.

As they make their way past the pub, he shrugs. "Occult also means hidden." It's just one of those things, one of those little bits of trivia that sticks with a person. He must have picked it up from a book somewhere. Maybe during his prison days. He seems to remember -- sometimes -- reading a lot, but he'd be hard pressed to say a single book title as one he'd read, at least not with any confidence.

He never went to college either. During those years, he was too busy playing music and falling in and out of what he thought was love. It's such a relief to really know what that's like now. His fingers tighten on Lestat's hand.

She laughs, her eyes darting over to him. "I like mysterious. It just sounds better."

She shrugs a little. She was home schooled as a child with her cousins and siblings -- the family liked to keep to itself, she was told. She had no idea, in those days.

"School is really just stressful. I mean, it's great with the libraries and the people..." She quashed another thought of Willow, "but sometimes it feels like they forget about the really big things." Like saving the world from vampires and demons.

"People often forget about the really big things. That is why those things remain hidden in the shadows. Completely unnoticed for centuries on end. In my world, I believe that is why the Talamasca was formed. What they will do now without their Superior General now is another story."

They are most likely very displeased with him for taking David away from them. However, he was not going to watch David fade away with old age. After the body switch his body was young and he intended to make sure it never died.

Whether David wanted that or not.

It doesn't matter now. The man isn't even here.

Tattoo parlor, fire house: all the City landmarks get a nod as they go by. He doesn't know what the Talamasca is but if he keeps reading Lestat's books he knows he'll find out.

There's so much more to learn.

"I think school's supposed to be stressful. It's a test." Like the Army was for him, or some of those auditions he went on when he was young and green and nowhere near polished on saxophone.

"And a lot always remains in the shadows. But then there are people like Lestat who like to shed light on them. I happen to think that makes the world a much brighter place, but I guess not everyone agrees."

He's biased and he knows it, but he makes no apology.

"You're totally biased," she informed him. "I've known you for what, twenty seconds, and I can tell that."

So basically it's all a big circle. Fine, she can deal with that. In fact, there are worse layouts.

"You've got the skinny on me, so now my turn. How long have you been here?"

Yes, Gren is biased. That fact always amuses him. It's as if he can do no wrong. A fact that is far from true but it is cute all the same. And cute is the perfect word for the matter.

"I will assume you directed that at us both and say that I have been here a little over ten months."

And a fascinating ten months they have been. They even gave him an all too human lover. Something he doesn't mind at all and greatly enjoys.

"Just shy of eight months." And almost half of that's been spent with this gorgeous creature at his side, and he wouldn't trade that away for anything. Not even getting his life back.

"It takes a while to get used to the cadence of this place, but it definitely has its own rhythm." Everything does. Everything has music if you listen to it hard enough. Even the City clock: it's a never-ending metronome, counting time for everything else that goes on in its confines.

"The place is kind of fascinating. I assume we're just doing a tour of the above-ground tonight, right?"

The underground's a whole different ball of wax.

"Underground is bad, right?" She's gathered that much in the week she's been hiding.

"I think we should just stay above ground tonight."

She shakes her head, though. She can't imagine being here that long; she's got things to do at home.

"That would have been my suggestion. Unless you have some knowledge of how to bring light down there, I am the one who would have to guide us at this time of night." Humming under his breath, he seemingly vanishes from Gren's side for a moment or two. When he returns he has a flower in his hand. From the cut, it's clearly from the flower shop but he doesn't let that bother him as he takes Gren's hand again.

Smelling the rose, he smiles. Roses do have an interesting scent. With one hand, he carefully knocks all of the thorns off then hands it to Gren.

A red rose.

If he remembers correctly, it means love.

Where did he...

Oh! He ought to be used to the surprises by now and this deserves attention: he takes the rose and threads it through a buttonhole on his jacket.

"Excuse me for just a minute, Tara."

He touches his fingertip to the bridge of his nose like he's got an itch. Lestat de Lioncourt, you're something else. I love you and I don't care who knows it.

Leaning forward, he gives Lestat a quick kiss. "Thank you."

There's a smile on his face that he can't quiet as he turns back to Tara. "See? He's really a force to be reckoned with." He can smell the rose's scent from here: it's beautiful. "And you probably have us all figured out, don't you."

Tara just shakes her head and looks to the side, letting them have their moment. She doesn't want to intrude and it's beautiful that they're so in love. Really.

Even if roses are European interlopers choking out the natural fauna. Give her real, overflowing fields of wildflowers anyday.

She conjures a tiny ball of light in her hand and tosses it into the air for when they start moving again -- after all, Lestat's reminded them that it's dark -- and smiles at Gren a little shyly. "Maybe a little."

That rose looks as if it belongs there. Nodding his approval, he opens his mouth to say something when he sees the light. He blinks a few times in surprise. After all, so little surprises him anymore. Though, Gren seems to have a talent for it.

"That is impressive." He studies the light for a moment or three.

"Would I be able to touch it?"

What the...

He watches Lestat watch the sudden ball of light: it must be okay because his favorite vampire doesn't seem the least bit hesitant about it.

It's really pretty.

"It won't hurt him, will it?"

"It will feel weird, but it won't hurt." She floats it over to them, an offering. She's very glad to have the focus turned away from them as a couple again.

Still, Gren's obvious concern for his lover is touching, and she smiles a little bit at him.

Even if she had told him that it would cause him harm, he still might have touched it. Since it will not, all the better. Reaching out, he uses one finger to gently poke at it. That 'weird' feeling is there but he only smiles in response to it.

"How did you do this? I've never seen anyone do something like this before."

And that is a fact.

So this is some kind of magic, up close and personal: he's only been privy to the magic or skills or whatever he wants to call it that Lestat has shared. Reaching forward, he touches it too: it feels almost like jelly.

It can't hurt him. He's already dead.

Sometimes, that's small comfort. He turns to Tara: he probably won't understand the how in her answer but he'd like to hear it anyway. And once he does he'll show her his own brand of magic by taking them into Lux.

He loves it there and that's magic enough for him.

Tara just shrugs helplessly. Witch lights are something she's always been good at.

"I can make them dangerous if the situation demands it. But otherwise, they're just useful instead of stumbling around in the dark. It's a spell," she clarifies. "Herbs, an incantation -- when you get really comfortable with a spell, you can shorthand it. I cast this one a lot.."

"A spell." Touching it again, he shakes his head. "That is a power I most certainly do not have. In fact, I don't think any vampires from my world do. Ah well, shall we continue?"

Not that he blames him. He loves that place as well. Of course, he loves it more when Gren is playing there but that is alright.

"I think Gren might be a little eager to show you Lux."

"Just another pit stop on the grand tour."

He really does love the club, though, and misses the hummingbirds more than he sometimes admits. They were like little flying jewels, but they belonged to Ishiah and it's fitting that they're gone along with him. And really, he's still getting to know Niko.

It's a slow process.

Stepping in under the awning, he gestures toward the stage through the darkness.

"The scene of the crime. That's my second home." He doesn't lead them over there, though, but toward the bar instead. "And I'll make good on that drink offer from earlier if you want something, Tara."

Lestat's drink will come later.

She smiled, shaking her head, and the light danced in the air. "No, Gren, I'd love to see where you work. And hear you play."

She's more than happy enough to be led through the bar, though she douses the flame before it can draw attention from anyone around them.

"Just tea is fine, if you've got some."

He, of course, asks for nothing. The one thing offered to his kind here is something he doesn't like. Cold blood and rewarmed blood are just vile. The only cold blood he's really enjoyed is Gren's. And the reason behind that is because it is dead blood and intoxicating.

"I have smelled tea here." Seen it consumed as well. Lux served a variety of drinks from what he had seen in the past.

"Anyways, come on Saturdays and he has a solo gig. Just him and his saxophone on that stage."

"It sounds so lonely when you say it that way. Two cups of tea, please." The bartenders here all know him; that's what happens when you work at a place as much as he works here. He takes just a moment to sniff in the scent of that rose; it makes him happy in a way he really can't begin to define. He's such a sucker for Lestat.

"But yeah, come back on Saturday. We usually have a pretty decent crowd. It makes for a nice mellow evening, and there's not a lot of trouble here as a rule. In fact..." He glances at Lestat. "I don't remember there ever really being any trouble here on a Saturday. Even on a curse day."

Just utterly careless trouble of his own making back when Ishiah ran the place, but then Vicious was banned from the club, so nothing came of it. "It's a pretty friendly crowd."

His friends are some of the best people in this whole City.

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Log; Incomplete

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