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Post by alldrenched on Jun 4, 2009 3:59:29 GMT
Stella stared up at the canopy of her bed, eyes sore but wide open. Now that she thought about it everything was sore, she leaned and in the moonlight found the bottle of pills, she picked up a glass of stale wine, left from dinner, and washed two down. She sat up in the half light seeping through the curtains and realised a figure sat on the couch across from her bed. It was Michael, head in his hands, doubled over. It hurt her, this pain she could almost feel in him, how many times had he been abandoned. She moved to his side and looked into his eyes, kneeling next to him. His eyes were tearless, but perhaps he had cried too much already. How could I save him, I am not a thirteen year old nymph, I am not strong enough for him, how can I wake him? She stared off. She took his arm and led him back to his room, or his new room, he slept in the downstairs room, Marguerite's old room, now and she went into the kitchen to make him tea. Under a small crystal vase, which held a sprig of eggs and bacon lantana from the garden, laid her plane ticket. Guilt at the sight of it, but it had been a month already, she had aided him enough, and aunt Beatrice was here, the whole family would be here to comfort, to heal him. What would it hurt if she wasn't sitting in the town car that carted him back and forth to Mayfair Medical. She was startled as the kettle squealed that it was ready. She grabbed it and poured it into a small thermos. She grabbed some peanut butter crackers and a tray and headed back upstairs.
When she entered he smiled and brushed his face clear of hair,"Thanks" Michael said, straining not to sound hoarse. He took the tea and sipped it slowly, washing down the pills as she handed them to him, vitamins and one betablocker. He had felt better, it had been a month and he had half his strength back. Abandoned again, and another heart attack to match it.
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Post by boo radley on Jun 4, 2009 4:10:52 GMT
(sorry, can I post in first?)
I woke up and looked around. Where was I? Where... oh. At work. Tired. I looked at the book I fell asleep reading. The Vampire Lestat. I closed my eyes, pained. Lestat, I thought. Lestat, you're real. You've always been real. Even before. Way before. I love you. I love you. That's all I could think, hear, or speak. His face, it haunted me every night when I saw it in the pictures. Every night, ever since I'd heard his legends as a child.
I giggle, thinking of myself as a little child. A memory.
Seven-year-old Jacqueline running to play with her friends. Mother calls her in. "Jacqueline, love, time for bed."
"Mummy, can I have a story? Please?"
"Ah, well, I suppose so. Which story would you like to hear, cherie?"
"A new one! Any new one!"
"Very well. There once was a man named Lestat. Although, he wasn't really a man, you see, he was a vampire..."
I always fell in love with Lestat, falling into pace with him at every turn in mummy's story. Much of it was made up, I was sure of it, but I longed for Lestat to be real.
Then I learned that Mum was actually what I am now - a Talamascan. Searching into the paranormal. Mainly vampires. But it was my extreme love for this Lestat, the one whom I had never known yet longed to touch and see and feel and have my love returned to, that love was what made me come here.
And so I stood up, only to hear my own mind reeling.
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Post by boo radley on Jun 4, 2009 4:16:59 GMT
(oh sorry, well, i didn't do anything very that effected your charrie or where Rowan and Lestat are) [[huh? i don't get it. I can still post though, right? *cheesy grin*  ]] I stood by the window near this Michael. I don't suppose I could explain why I would follow Stella Mayfair, but that she intrigued me. And of course, she was sure to lead me to Lestat... eventually. After all, she was close to Rowan, and Rowan was Lestat's... Lestat's Lover. I could barely think of it without feeling some pain. I loved Lestat, and I always will, even if we were - and had to be - separated for periods of time.
I wasn't sure if I loved Stella the same way. I most certainly loved her, as I had fallen in love with her eons ago. Or at least, what seemed to be eons. I wanted to be able to touch her face without driving her away or driving myself mad.
I loved her like my own child sometimes. Other times it was like a sister. And yet still other times it was as if she were my lover. I had no clue, and I had watched her grow in to a beautiful girl.
Hopefully I would know soon, before it was too late and I'd to think of her as my mother. Or grandmother. Or great... eh.
I wink at Stella, who does a double-take, but by that time, I'm at the window in HER room. |
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Post by Jacksbonnielass on Jun 4, 2009 4:29:44 GMT
Lestat had wandered New Orleans many times before, he knew every corner of his city, his lovely French Quarter, Cafe du Monde,Bourbon Street,the Garden District. He stood in the center of one of these neighborhoods, he swirled, his frock coat going out behind him, he laughed lightly, holding onto the purple sunglasses for dear life. He ignored the mortal stares, who was he to care what they think?
Ah but what wonders some mortals could be! Only a few in each lifetime every caught his fancy, and those that did impacted him the most, Nicolas, his dear Louis, that poor musician in New Orleans, and now, his Rowan, yes he had already laid claim on the poor mortal neurosergeon's life, that's where he was headed right at this moment, to her house, Prytania Street. It was late, he knew her and Micheal would be in bed, but he didn't care. Lestat stood at the foot of the tree in front, he lept, landing in it's outreached limbs, he paused before landing on the balcony softly. He stood there, looking through the glass, seeing perfectly into the bedroom.
Micheal was still sick, apparently, he saw Stella and drew back a bit, he was still none too keen on her. He looked around and searched the house for Rowan. No scent of her. He stretched his vision further, to Mayfair Medical, there she was, in her office, Mon Dieu she worked entirely too much. He turned, leaping from the balcony, finding himself in front of her office door without meaning to in minutes. He tapped lightly on the door in a very mortal fashion
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Post by alldrenched on Jun 4, 2009 4:33:12 GMT
I felt Louis, my beautiful pale follower but then he was gone, I sighed, and looked at the confused Michael who was now done with his tea and crackers.
"What"
"Oh nothing, I think I just heard one of the guards walking around outside." She knew it must be Louis, he had been there, at her window for several nights now, a streak only interrupted when David came to visit. She helped Michael back into bed and got the house keeper to take the tray back downstairs, feeling bad for waking her. Stella then moved slowly to her room. She and Louis had spoken maybe three words ever, one was when she first saw him following her in her youth, and it was a warning to move away when a truck sped around the corner and headed for her. Why they were drawn together she didn't know, she had what David had told her years ago, when he was in his proper body, and had told her again later; witches glow in the eyes of vampires, the shine just as clearly as vampires show themselves to witches. A witch cannot be tricked by the enchantment and spells that vampires send out, claiming they look like any ordinary person either. She turned and saw him in the window, watching her silently, she smiled as warmly as she could, despite her love for them she was quietly repealed by these creatures.
Rowan stopped in the sterile halls of Mayfair Medical, she stood up straighter, feeling Lestat signal her. She felt bad for not worrying about Michael, it was Lestat who suggested they check on him in fact, but she feign concern,"How is he?" she sent back too coldly. In fact it was her that caused this, when he had grabbed her arm, with all his strength, still pleading with her like a child to stay, she had sent this, her cruel power at him, but her heart wasn't in it, she didn't want to kill him. She remembered how he keeled over, and she had set off the alarm, deja vu.
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Post by boo radley on Jun 4, 2009 4:38:16 GMT
I opened the window and leaned out to see New Orleans unfolding below me. The night city came to life and the world was fresh, a new one. Beautiful nights like these were hard to miss. They happened every night.
I was hungry. I grabbed my purse - a cheap coupon for a bowl of gumbo at Mother LeRon’s Kitchen, and that was a dim-lit place. Not too many people came there, but the odd sorts of people that intrigued me – people that looked to be vampires – most certainly did. I didn’t know for certain, none of them interested me. Not yet.
So I put on a red trench jacket and walked through the blustery streets, until I hit the far edge of town where Mother LeRon’s Kitchen was. One bowl of gumbo. I was not from New Orleans, but from a small village in France. But the Talamascans led me here, saying that if I wanted to find Lestat de Lioncourt, he would be here. It had been three years. I haven’t yet seen him. Then again, I first began the search as an inexperienced seventeen-year-old, and at that point I was only twenty, so who was I kidding?
At any rate, I had come to love the city. Its rich history, its beautiful view, everything.
I smiled back at her. "Open the window," I purred quietly. I didn't want her blood, I had already fed from some useless savage who wanted me to drink it. Oh Stella, what you do to me. "Stella, dearest." I think this was the first time I had actually spoken to her, meaning to have a full-out conversation, a meaningful conversation. Until this point it had been a matter of watching or speaking in minor tones that meant nearly nothing.
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Post by alldrenched on Jun 4, 2009 4:44:47 GMT
She felt a shock, goosebumps spreading over her, that rare preternatural voice speaking so casually to her. "Louis" was all she could say as she opened the window, the cool air slipping over her. The scent of wisteria and gardenia flowed in, hanging in the air and sweeping around her slowly. She closed her eyes, this scent, this dreamy scent reminded her of the silent nights she had spent with Mona, in this garden when Deidre sat on the porch just outside, in her stupor, the stupor that Rowan fell into briefly, the stupor that she had longed for in her beautiful bedroom at Mayfair Medical. They watched The Man, as he stood there guarding her. Lasher, a ghost buried under the tree in the backyard, but there was no time for this memory, cold and unwelcome, and it floated away from her as quickly as it came. It was but a second of daydream before her eyes were back on Louis, his beautiful green eyes burning into her.
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Post by Jacksbonnielass on Jun 4, 2009 4:46:28 GMT
Lestat was taken aback for a moment by the coldness, then shrugged it off, really cherie, you work too much, he seemed fine, Stella was taking care of him he sent back to her. He'd let himself into her office, sitting in her chair behind her desk, playing with the pens and things on the desk, rearranging her papers, his feet propped up on the edge of the desk. come to your office, I wish to speak to you, I loathe this telekinetic chatting he really just wanted to see her, that had been one of his goals for the night, to see his Rowan.
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Post by boo radley on Jun 4, 2009 4:47:25 GMT
I sat in the window frame, watching her stand next to me, shocked. The brilliant colors of her skin creating pictures in my mind - rainbows, dazzling sights - all from mere pigments of skin. And then her deep brown eyes, mesmerizing, a deep sea of darkness. I looked away.
"Stella," I said to her again. I did not know how to start the conversation with her. "How are you?" That was simple to say in and of itself, the simplest mechanism used in the English language for centuries. Millenia. "How are you?" I repeat. I was anxious, but I retained the state of calm I was in.
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Post by alldrenched on Jun 4, 2009 4:52:34 GMT
Rowan walked back, her sterile white coat's collar popped, she slipped her sunglasses on as she started walking towards her office. Everyone here knew her well, and the Mayfairs owned this place and had been searching for her. Stella. Stella, the new Designee had told the staff to be on alert for her, she hated it, she had designed this building, every detail of it, and now her own office was locked to her (not that the lock had stopped her.) She came to the door finally, after winding through many corridors, and she turned the now broken knob. There he was, absolutely gleaming in the fluorescent light, her lovely fiend.
"How many nights have you been at my window, Louis?" She said his name with the same cherishing that he had said hers,"It seems by now you would know how I am, it seems wrong to even tell you." She grasped the cursed stone around her neck, the shimmering emerald that came with this house, this long haunted house, and the Legacy. She felt suddenly that the pain oozed out of her under his stare. Everyone was dead, the world with it's ever rich hues had faded for her slowly. Her old loves turned to beasts, these beautiful beasts her only solace.
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