revivalproject | We breathe the music

Entry tags:

We breathe the music

Who Lestat, Open
What Mingling, Feeding
Where The Warrens
When Volcano Event
Warnings Blood, Violence

Love Me

It had been a long time since Lestat could roam freely without having to worry about the sun. He could adjust his schedule to match that of any other man down here. And there was a routine to things down here just as there had been above ground. He made it his mission to mingle, to be one of the people. It wasn't the night life of New Orleans, but it was at least more lively then Temba in the moonlight hours most nights.

And so Lestat ignored his gnawing hunger and took Nicki's violin out into public for the first time since his arrival. He played a song from long in his past when he was still newly turned, welcoming others to listen or join in.

Feed Me

That hunger ate away at Lestat until he couldn't stand it. Let it throw me into the damn fountain and in the path of the volcano, at least it would be a faster death than this- he reasoned, stalking his prey to a more secluded area of the warrens before swooping in on them. He moved with lightening fast speed, on them in a flash and sinking him teeth into their neck with a groan of relief.

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Mingling and being one of the people had never been something that Claudia had gotten to do. A young girl on her own was not a casual sight in the bars and brothels that her dad and uncle would frequent at night. She was a lost lamb in an alley, or a ghost that her meal never saw at all. If she had any sense memory from before she died, it, too, had died since, and not with dignity. Her aunt had kept her in the dark like she was preparing Claudia for the undeath.

Moving around in the 'daylight', where all of this life was corralled together, felt surreal.

More surreal still was that lonely lilt of the strings that echoed off of these strange walls, and from Lestat's hands, of all people. Claudia watched from a corner at first, leaned up against the wall to hold as she peaked around it into the open space beyond, head tilted far enough to the side for her curls to fall down around her shoulder as she stared with wide-eyed interest. She could see how the sound of it bounced like a shiver off of the dreary tunnels, vanishing into anything soft like it was being consumed. Lord, she was hungry.

She came swinging out from her corner, arms in a wild, boneless motion until they bumped into each other and ended clasped behind her back, and she came stalking straight for Uncle Les with her tongue on the sharp point of the suggestion of an eager fang. They and her tongue were gone as she came to a stop at his elbow, and waited watchfully for his brow to furrow with some concentration before intruding, "How come I didn't know you could play?"

He may or may not have felt her eyes on him before her approach, but did didn't lift his gaze. A slight twinge of his cheek was the only indication he was aware of her until she spoke, and the strings gave a faint screech before he was able to recover. He lowered the bow and lifted his chin from the violin.

"I didn't bring one to America," he said, as though he hasn't spent a small fortune in New Orleans just in Claudia's lifetime. He could have easily bought himself a new instrument if he wanted one. "And there is a good deal you don't know. Both about me and the world. So it's not so shocking."

As though it wasn't the exact kind of disruptive she meant to be, Claudia looked surprised then disappointed at Lestat's crude note, and glanced away to graciously give him some privacy in his humiliation. She only looked back to cast him a pinched look of irritation for never once missing the chance to degrade his mistake, even in this grave.

With a whimsical sigh of resignation, Claudia admitted, "I didn't have a very good teacher." She probably knew as much about Lestat as he did, give or take a few parlour tricks, despite how he pretended, and he didn't even have the eyes to see what he really was from the outside. "I'm more prepared this time, though, so never you mind, there's plenty I already know about this world." The bigger one that she was in now.

"...enlighten me," he prompted in an almost bored tone, though given he didn't have some retort to throw at her he might have been genuinely interested. He returned his his chin to the violin and idly played a softer melody while watching her expectantly. She did seem to be coping here rather well. Maybe Lestat hadn't given her quite enough credit back home.

Claudia came around him then with great poise, to cast herself down onto the ground in a great flutter of her skirt, which was enough to catch her attention as she sat otherwise rigidly dolllike on the ground with her feet outstretched and unblinking eyes on Lestat. She plucked idly at the skirt in dainty flicks as she said, "There's a creature who's tongue is full of a poison that makes you swell up awful, very tiny thing but one bite could probably kill a mortal." Nothing else here had even attempted to bite her, and had Claudia casting suspicious eyes at the equally small and unassuming mushrooms that lurked in all of the corners here, shivering like they thought she couldn't see them like bruises on pale skin. Like it was equally important, she continued, "There are witches in America." Still playing with her skirt, she added, "Most everyone here is incredibly focused on himself, staring inward, you could follow them for a mile without them noticing."

Lestat looked down at her, remembering back to fonder times with a tight jaw, and he lowered himself to join her, setting the violin away in its case.

"..." There was a silence, much Lestat wanted to say but couldn't. Pride held his tongue.

"Tell me about these witches," he prompted at a moment.

It made sense that he wasn't as practiced and couldn't carry a conversation while playing like he would have at the piano with Claudia; he must have been keeping this secret even in the years since she was out of the house. She watched the violin go away with a dreamy sadness, but was keen enough to report, "Nothing like the aunties killing chickens in the Quarter. European witches, travelling in secret because it was too dangerous for them overseas." Not like anyone they knew, surely.

It was rare that Lestat would acknowledge Claudia knew anything that he didn't, but this was an interesting fact. One he couldn't even scoff at given some of the more fantastical things he'd seen in this place.

"And you know this because one of these people is a witch?" He wondered if she meant that woman...Lark. She had some sort of power.

For only a second, Claudia considered Lestat cautiously, trying to spot the claws before they came out. It wouldn't be anything she couldn't handle. In a heartbeat, she was grinning, hands to her cheeks like she had to contain the expression before it overtook her as she related, "They can make things appear out of nowhere, and they can fly, can you imagine, just like a bird."

He could imagine, a coy look on his face as he settled a little more comfortably, chuckling and arching an intrigued brow.

"Is that right?" Lestat asked, bemused expression very much one he might have when speaking to a child who was excitedly telling tales.

If Claudia found that attitude condescending, she couldn't let it deter her--that was, ultimately, just how Lestat sounded, a natural consequence of trying to have a conversation. She still grinned, her hands dropping to bunch in her skirt as she enthused, "We're not alone. And if a witch can make more of other things, then that must mean they can make more of us, and there's got to be so many more than I imagined and I just haven't been looking in the right places."

That earned a frown. Why was she so obsessed with finding or creating more of them? She had everything she could possibly want with himself and Louis.

"A witch isn't going to help you with that," he Lestat snapped, "And you don't want to find more of our kind."

That did finally dim Claudia's smile, making her nose wrinkle instead, cheeks puffed with a pout and shoulders sloping. As far as she could tell, she could ask Billy to make anything in the world and he didn't even ask questions. "What makes you so sure?" she asked.

"..." That gave Lestat brief pause, because depending on which of his statements she was responding to- well...he didn't know. He had no idea what a witch could or couldn't do. Though he doubted they could make more of their kind. But as for finding more...

"If you think I'm cruel then you will be sorely disappointed if you ever have the misfortune to find more of them, trust me, mon chou."

So far, those supernatural creatures that Claudia had met, growing in number since leaving her home that she didn't even realize was so small, had not been so supernatural in their attitudes. Lestat still stood apart from any of them, including Louis. She could not have believed him the first time he tried to convince her how dangerous the world was, because Louis. There was nothing more pitifully gentle than he could be. She could settle for a little less, since he could never love her like he loved Lestat. "You don't account anymore for how lonely it is, to always be watching," she said, arms gone straight and rigid with her hands clasped together in the swell of her skirt. "You've had so much love now for so long, so long as my whole little life, you've had your claws so deep in him that I don't think either of us would ever think to see you apart. And now, for weeks, he hasn't been here, and you still don't understand, because it's enough that he's waiting for you on the gallery."

Naturally, Claudia didn't know what had happened, but it didn't stop Lestat from leveling a sharp look at her. That was the problem after all. For all his efforts he had no love. At least Claudia didn't lie about it, she was vocal with her true feelings. Not like Louis who refused to love or hate him. Not until the end at least. He'd chosen Claudia. Loved Claudia.

"You think I don't know what it is to be lonely??" he spat, "He was supposed to love me. You were supposed to cement that love, and I end up with neither of you. I've known loneliness in ways you can't begin to imagine."

It had been years, but it felt like they were right back in the same, awful argument that sent Claudia out the door, and Lestat hadn't thought on it one bit. Of course he would take Louis not being here as some slight against him. Claudia had to gather herself up, itching under her skin sending her to her feet and away from Lestat, her fists balled at her sides with nails digging into her palms. "I've not once had the choice, I'm stuck in this body in the dark because of all of the choices you get to make, over and over again, and your gluttony never being satisfied does not make you lonely, it makes you pathetic."

"You were not my choice. You were his," Lestat snapped, and how he wanted to break something. But all he had was Nicki's violin and so he restrained himself. "I didn't choose for you to be brought here. And I didn't choose for you to leave us, again, and again, and again."

The worst part was how much he clearly did understand. Of course she wanted to leave again when he refused to listen to her, what else could he mean by again, and yet he couldn't help the cruelty of persistence and burdening her with the fault. "No, I was his mistake," Claudia reminded him, so they both knew they were having the same conversation that should have been over years ago. In that time, Claudia had only grown more sure that Lestat's lies were meant to hurt her and Louis, and there were more of them out there to be found. She spun and stalked back the way she had come, into the tunnel where she wouldn't be lured by pretty music anymore.

Mistake. Of course. He huffed, and in a flash he was there before her, not allowing her to run off this time.

"You said yourself you wished we hadn't done it. Why do you get to say it and not us, mm? Few children in this miserable world aren't a mistake."

Claudia might have been sensitive and quick enough to see Lestat herself, but the display of speed still made her flinch back as the height of him barred her way, neatly halting her retreat and bringing her hands up defensively. Despite the cowed recoil, she still met his eye steadily, and was disappointed that she had to reply evenly, "You making a mistake is not the same as me being a mistake." She wouldn't accept that anymore.

Nose curled, Lestat looked ready to launch into another rant, but something about that steady gaze struck him for once, and he felt a modicum of guilt. Not much at all, but more than he typically did in the heat of an argument, and it robbed the power from him, cheek twitching.

"...maybe not," he allowed tightly.

Edited 2023-09-06 15:48 (UTC)

That was practically a downy softness for Lestat, all the more striking in its remove, something he hadn't offered Claudia since...Since she started being as cold as he wanted her to. Since he held her face and made her watch her last fire burn out. It settled tensely between them, throats gone still when they should have been howling cruel words. Claudia wouldn't look away, but eventually lifted her chin, letting her shoulders and clawed hands relax, tipping her head slightly so her hair fell around her shoulder again, a vulnerable display of her neck.

"You can make a thousand mistakes and still have eternity," she eventually said, the tension of anger still in her voice for both an admonishment and an offer, in what sounded like an illustration. "To be a mistake is a death."

She's wiser than he'd ever admit. It intimated him, if Lestat was being honest, to acknowledge that she was in many ways his equal now. Didn't need him. Didn't want him.

"Believe me, my little milkweed, I have made an eternity's worth of mistakes," he offers in turn.

If he really meant that, then he would finally have a real answer for Claudia when she pressed, "Like what?" Of course she didn't need him, if he still refused to answer her. There were plenty of ways to expand her knowledge. He had never been a reliable one.

Like what? Lestat's smile grew tight, gaze turned inward as he reflected. He didn't like to admit to his failings. Never had. But particularly not to his fledglings. To his daughter... who tried to kill him for his failings and his cruelty. Who turned Louis against him finally...

"I...have been unkind to you. Hard on you," he managed stiffly, struggling to admit it aloud.

The eased slope of Claudia's shoulders became a droop of frustrated dejection as she groaned and rolled her eyes until they were white. He was impossible. She didn't need to be told that he was unkind, she could figure the details of that for herself. And it was so frustrating that she couldn't even slam a door as she snapped, "Stay out of my room," and pushed passed him to stalk away again, to a pathetic little corner of moss and dust to mope in.

Normally, Peter would have caught on that he's being followed because his Spider-sense would have alerted him that something wasn't quite right. However, after the month he's had and the fact he hasn't had nearly enough to eat lately, right now his spider-sense is not working like it should. He's not sure if that's relief or a concern.

So, when Lestat pounces on him he's wholly unprepared for it and lets out a startled yelp of pain the moment he feels those sharp teeth sink into his neck.

Fortunately, Peter does still have his strength so he immediately tries to force the man off.

"What the hell man? ...Did you just bite me?"

There's something very off about the boy's blood, and if he'd hadn't been so starved or had more bodies to choose from that might have been enough for Lestat to abandon him on it's on. But whatever force has been keeping him attacking doesn't seem to be at play down here, and Lestat can't be sure how long that will be true, so he swallows what he can down fast, growling at the boy's attempts to get him off. He's stronger than Lestat expects, and he bites down harder on his neck to try and still him. It might be easier to snap the boy's spine and be done with it, but he supposes he should be trying to conserve the humans they have.

~Be still and I'll let you live.~ Lestat's lips don't move so he can't have said the words aloud, but there they are in Peter's head just the same.

Peter continues to struggle against his assailant, trying to gain some leverage so he can flip him over like he's seen on some tv shows. The problem is that takes know how and Peter's never taken an martial arts class in his life.

He regrets that now.

"Agh!" Peter cries out when the vampire just bites down harder. A light bulb goes off and he renews his struggling-this time for a very different reason.

"Stop! You-you don't know what you're doing. I might be poisonous!"

This is the second person here he's attacked who has been concerned for his health, and Lestat wonders if there is something in the water here or they are all just that ridiculously selfless?

"What-?" he snaps in annoyance, keeping a hold of the boy but releasing him from that bite for the moment.

Peter continues to try and pry Lestat's grip off of him, this time using a little more of his strength though due to not eating and not getting restful rest he's really not at peak performance.

"I'm-I've got radioactive blood. Or at least-I think I do. I probably do. I got bit my a radioactive spider and it fu-uh-messed up my genetic coding. Can you let me go?" he asks as casually as if he were asking Lestat to pass the salt.

Radioactive blood. Boy should be dead if that's the case, should he not? As to how it would affect him- it's not something Lestat's had the chance to gain first hand knowledge of, and it gives him pause. He gives a frustrated huff, swallowing thickly and shoving the boy away.

"Is there anyone here who doesn't have poison blood??" he growls.

Peter lets out a sigh of relief and quickly catches his balance as he's shoved away. "Ow..." He whines as he massages the area where he was bit. "That hurt." He informs the vampire like maybe he'd care.

"I don't know. Weird that you're having that problem though." Not that he was going to list names of people he was pretty sure didn't have radioactive blood. "And I'm definitely not just gonna let you hurt someone else."

"It's meant to," Lestat dismisses with a huff and a sharp glare, accent particularly thick when he's displaying that annoyed sass.

He ought to just snap the boy's neck and move on if he's not a suitable meal. Can't have him spreading the word to all the people who are still ignorant to his true nature. He laughs though at that determined little declaration.

"Not going to let me?"

"You can't just go around biting people like that, dude. It's super rude." Peter continues to massage the spot on his neck that got bit.

"And FYI, I'm part of the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. So long your not attacking anyone else I'll let it go. You try to hurt someone else? I'm gonna kick your ass." He says flatly. Bold words for a kid that was just whining about getting bitten a moment ago.

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We breathe the music

Love Me

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Feed me

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