After Paradise

[Jacksbonnielass]

Lestat stared at all the spirits, recognizing the small child from a previous encounter with the Mayfair witches, only able to observe the wrath of Julien in the house. It wasn't like he hadn't asked Rowan, if it had been years ago he would have just turned her without permission, besides ,he wasn't the one who had turned her in the first place, Armand had done that for him.

Armand moved over next to Lestat, away from the house.

ooc:sorry so short, my mind is a bit bleh at the moment from vacation.lol

[alldrenched]

Louis hands dug into the double redwood gate when he finally came to the house. He could smell Rowan here, and hear people arguing. With very little effort he pressed down and propelled himself over the enormous fence. He landed soundlessly on the other side, though the deck and house rocked. It took him a moment to realise that it was the waves and not him.

Through the glass walls he saw the house; it had broad teak doors, blond hardwood floors, and the first floor was only divided by a large fireplace, and the curving iron staircase beyond it. The modern furniture, all in shades of white, was turned over and flung about with obvious violence, and the paintings, Rothko's and Chagall's he could tell with a cursory glance, were hanging upside down, one was shredded and the pieces were still fluttering down through the air. He cringed, realising it must have been real.

Through the three exposed glass walls of the house he saw an odd grouping, his sensitive eyes took in Armand, Lestat, and Rowan, though he could not see the ghosts. He moved towards the group, along the bucking deck, past a mammoth yacht (one that looked large enough to hold it's own on even a transatlantic crossing.) The yacht, named the Sweet Christine, he read from its hull, looked dangerously big, and tied just feet from the house, it seemed that the boat could at any minute be thrown by a wave and crush the whole building.

As he came across the little group, their eyes focused on something absolutely invisible to his, he understood. Rowan was a vampire, or in the now irreversible process of becoming one. He began to stomp as he moved swiftly to Lestat, a bellowing growl launching itself uncontrollably from his chest. His green eyes glowed with fury.

"GOD DAMN YOU, LESTAT! YOU DESPICABLE BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU!" his voice roared out. These words he had said before in a million different tender and teasing ways were now unbearably harsh. Unable to stop himself he was pressing hard against Lestat, his hands flying into his creator in rage.

(Decided it was time for an angry Louis, Louis and Lestat fights are fun.)

[Jacksbonnielass]

(oh my...grawr. Sorry I'm not on AIM, my laptop is on the fritz and I'm having to use the desktop, which has no AIM)

"LOUIS!" Lestat yelled back, catching the other vampire by the wrists, keeping him from ripping skin from his chest, or worse, rip some organ from his body.. Any normal mortal man would have been crushed on impact by Louis's rage, killed if not hurt beyond repair. Lestat wrestled with him, then got in his face, staring into the angered green pools of his eyes, "I HAD TO! SHE ASKED ME TO DO IT!" he yelled back, throwing Louis back away from him, "You should have known it would happen soon enough!" he tossed his head, flipping the blonde mane back out of his eyes that gleamed with annoyance.

Armand stood back, too weak to cut in, letting Lestat feel Louis rage, he debated on when to cut in and stop the madness, yet, they were quite entertaining, like an old married couple bickering over what television show to watch.

[alldrenched]

Louis sat on the deck where he was thrown, glowering up at Lestat for a moment before he pulled himself up. He turned his gaze to Rowan, her gray eyes taking in the scene with an amazing lack of interest; distracted by her new sight he assumed. The fact that she had requested this hell meant little to him really, it was wrong to take her from her family, the family that needed her, and her husband.

Beyond that, Lestat had resisted her demands earlier for a very good reason, she could easily go mad in this state. His nostrils flared with a little inhale in anger. He searched the cold wet air for Stella's scent, and was glad when he found nothing.

"It is wrong." he said, his voice strong with his conviction. His eyes turned to Armand, who was obviously drained, then quickly back to Lestat.

"And what about Michael and..." he stopped himself from saying Stella's name. He didn't like to speak about Stella with Lestat, he had a fear, and a fairly reasonable one, that Lestat would do something horrible, thinking it was kind; he could see Lestat presenting him with Stella as a gift of sorts. He shuddered, and told himself that Lestat wouldn't make the same mistake twice, then his eyes moved to Rowan, clearly that wasn't true.


Louis was right, Rowan had been calm, watching the light pass through the glass walls of the house, entranced, but Michael's name brought her up short. Her breath caught a bit, and then she froze back into her indifferent expression. Michael, the name burned inside of her, crushing the delight she had felt just moments before. She should have told him, should have gotten a divorce, or at least a separation, should have told him goodbye, should have respected their relationship that much. But she couldn't.


Julien watched, coldly amused and fascinated by the display of anger from Louis. He liked him, this vampire with a sense of right and wrong, this vampire who clearly hated Lestat as much as he loved him.

He thought of Mona and her petulance before she, for all intents and purposes, ran away. How many vampires had Lestat sired, only to be abandoned or loathed by them. He drank this in, these loses could surely be wielded against him in their battle.

"Yes," his voice was velvety, its smooth French accent and calm unruffled by the hate he felt, "What about Michael? What about our family!!" his calm fell away and left him shouting the last part.



The car took the exit for Tiburon and soon they were racing along the streets of the wealthy community, expensive cars and million dollar homes flying by outside the windows. Rowan's house was coming up on the left, they turned down the long drive. The drive curled down a hill towards the house, only the enormous red wood fence and the large white painted brick garage showing. Stella swallowed the sudden panic that filled her, and she clung to her largest bag, it's hard sides digging into her arm. She gripped the key tightly in her hands and she stepped out, waiting for Pieter and Michael to unload before unlocking the gate.

[Jacksbonnielass]

Lestat heard the car at the gate, Someone is here he told Rowan silently, he couldn't make out the people, he wasn't paniked, just alert. "Besides, I didn't turn her, Armand took care of that for me," he said, straightening his jacket.

Armand glared daggers in the blondes direction, he was too weak to even fight off Louis, much less deal with more spirits. He heard the car as well, inhaling, "Lestat...."

[alldrenched]

Louis had already come to that conclusion, he growled under his breath at Lestat's attitude. "You reckless monster,-" he cut off from his tirade now, smelling that familiar scent, and hearing a delicate heart beat, it's pace racing.

Stella heard voices from the other side of the house. She turned the key in the heavy padlock, foolish to be afraid, she told herself, but she was shaking still. She feared, more than the immortals that she knew must be here, her own temper; that is what would kill her, she had to hold back, she couldn't rampage through that group. She stepped into the door and moved to the other deck quickly, feet away from them, her dangerous ire boiling now, she felt a tug and she couldn't move. Pieter had her.

Michael's daze, the one he had held himself in with beer after beer, was lifting now, and he started to ache. Too familiar, that drunken stupor falling away here, again, as it had when he had first meet Rowan. He swallowed his pain and he saw the figures around the corner, through the clean glass. He was here to make sure she was safe, to make sure she had picked this (he couldn't think him,) and to say goodbye if that was the case. Though he told himself this, repeated it like a mantra for the few steps that separated him from group, the hope inside him was crumbling in a disfiguring way.

Pieter grabbed Stella, he had broken through the cover she had placed over her thoughts and he saw what she didn't even know she was going to do. She turned to stare at him, her eyes hard. And then, despite his strength she broke away from him. He stared at his empty hand for the barest portion of a second in confusion and shock. Then he was following, and Michael seemed to understand and sped up after her.

Stella's deep chocolate brown eyes were harsh and nearly black as the scowled at Rowan, and then Lestat. She marched forward, too close now some rational part of her brain said. Her pink lips parted, and from those feminine and soft petals a guttural scream escaped, "NO!!!" The sound of it seemed to ring in the air, at least her rational brain, desperate to regain control, felt it had. Her hands clenched into fists and she raised them like a boxer, and how impotent they seemed in the light reflected from Lestat's cold, stone hard body. The heat of her pure anger rolled off of her body, and then, still not able to control herself, she swung.

(Now Stella gets to be an idiot, haha. She will probably break her hand and wrist and Lestat will just laugh at her, but somehow this was the way she reacted no matter how many different ways I set up the confrontation in my head. :

[Jacksbonnielass]

(haha. I just had an idea for a t-shirt "hell hath no fury like a Louis scorned" )

Lestat let her fist collide with his stomach, not feeling anything, silly mortals, especially one that is a Mayfair. Didn't she know punching him would only hurt herself? He watched Stella's rage with interest, secretly enthused by all the chaos he had caused just by letting Armand turn Rowan, then again, he didn't want to mess with the ghosts, especially Julien.

Armand stood there watching the events unfold, wincing slightly as Stella punched the Brat Prince. He watched the other two mortals with interest, one looked anxious ,the male, Michael wasn't it?

[alldrenched]

As Stella's fist connect two things happened: first, pain shot through her hand, down her wrist, along her arm and to her shoulder, and second she was on the deck few feet away without having been able to see what had moved here there. She forced herself up (using her left hand,) her glare still on Lestat who was now looking at her with what appeared to be a small, amused smirk. She couldn't read his mind, it was hidden, but she could pick up the general feeling of his thoughts; she entertained him, mildly, and this whole situation was exciting to him.

In contrast, Louis' thoughts were crystal clear and filled with anger. He was angry at Lestat, of course, and Armand for aiding Lestat's impetuous and selfish actions, and at her, for reacting so stupidly. He stood, his stance obviously one of protection in front of her as he stared Lestat down.

Around her swirled Julien and Aunt Stella clear as any other person in the group. They were beautiful, familiar and she understood that along with Louis they had brought her here. "Ah, Julien," Stella said, amazed by the pleasure and relief his presence brought her. Her pathetic human body no longer itched to attack Lestat, no, now something far more powerful was, on the case as it were.


"Darling," Julien said lovingly to Stella, his ghostly hand reaching out and caressing her cheek, relishing in actually feeling the warmth from her body.

Louis' voice had raged a stern,"Lestat," when Stella had so impulsively hit him. And then he was pushing her away and down, but it wasn't just him. Now several eyes were focused just beyond him, but not on Stella it seemed. He couldn't see the spirits, no matter their force, but he could see a warping to the air that surrounded Stella, and hear the smooth, French accented voice spill into that air.


Michael had moved slowly towards Rowan, glad for the distraction that Stella had caused. Pieter was too worried about Stella to watch his every step and he edged closer. He was aware of the young, auburn haired vampire's eyes on him; the boy vampire was Armand, if Michael recalled correctly from the books he had read after Mona had been turned. He knew, as he stared into Rowan's hematite eyes, that this was her choice, that this was goodbye. He expected a catch in his throat, for his eyes to water, for the sadness to drown him, but nothing happened. He had known all along, despite his drinking dream-state, that she had never been taken, that it wasn't the way it had been with Lasher. The coming discussion exhausted him suddenly, and then a familiar voice caught his attention and he turned his focus away from Rowan and onto Stella, around her Julien and Louis held nearly identical and protective positions. He looked for Aunt Stella and saw her moving in front of him, her heels even making a clicking against the deck as she did so. "Hey Ducky," she whispered, winking at him. He looked at the odd grouping, three ghosts, three mortals, three immortals and Rowan, lost somewhere in between. The last ghost, Charlotte, was in front of Pieter but she looked far more bored than protective.

Rowan watched, her eyes locking onto Michael's, his deep, cobalt blue eyes dimming a bit as he knew, must have known, she had really left him. This was not how this was meant to go she thought, and she looked into the house, away from these people. Soon she would die, she thought, and they would all be here to watch; how awful and personal that would be. She didn't want to know, to see what she was abandoning, to see the hate that writhed inside Stella or the sadness that was muddying Michael's beautiful eyes. She wanted to be with Lestat, she wanted what she had planed, an intimate time with her change binding them together stronger surely than marriage. She felt a small stab of pain deep within her stomach and she knew her death would begin sooner than she expected.


Julien smiled, he had commanded the attention of almost every being here with just a few words and that felt like being alive again. "Lestat," he said, his voice as even as if this were merely a business meeting,"You have calmed your Louis here just a bit with your words, that Rowan chose this life, but you will not calm me. Do you remember, Lestat, my hauntings? And this time I shall not be so easily appeased." Julien searched Lestat's face to see how his threat was being absorbed.


(I am so tired today that I hope this is coherent, haha)

[Jacksbonnielass]

Lestat's features didn't change ,they held the haughty, amused look he was so well known to carry, as if telling Julien, but of course not, bring it on, as they say hit me with your best shot no? He simply crossed his arms across his chest, and stood there facing Julien in his vampiric glory, "Oui, I do," he had pestered the living hell out of the immortal blonde, "But what is done is done, your hauntings will get you no where, there is no cure for vampirism, if there was, Louis would have been the first to find it," he turned to his fledgling, who looked a bit confused, ah he couldn't see the spirits. All this talk of threats was starting to bore him. On to the next step, Rowan's finished transformation, ta ta, you bore me mon ami. He appeared as if Juliens threats didn't bother him, but in all honesty he didn't want to deal with his hauntings again.

Armand didn't say a word, he simply observed, not knowing if him being the one to turn her made any difference on if he stayed or left. He wanted to simply disappear into the darkness, as he had planned. But the appearence of spirits and the mortals left him standing there, an interested expression in his features mixed with confusion.

(OOC: sorry this took me forever, with my laptop being broken I can't get on the forums much, but it's in the shop now and the parts been ordered!)

[alldrenched]

Julien's hard smile grew a bit, "I have an eternity and very little else to do. I understand that my dear Rowan's transformation cannot be reversed, no matter what experiments mon chéri would like to attempt," he nodded towards Stella with a sad smile. Stella dropped her small suitcase, the vaccutainer bags full of her own blood sloshed inside as the suitcase rolled across the deck. "But Monsieur you have provoked me twice now and I shall have satisfaction."

Rowan looked at Stella, and into her mind. She smiled inwardly, an experiment, yes, she was tempted, but not enough. Rowan opened her mouth to respond to Julien's threats but she couldn't speak, at that moment another stab of pain hit her and the breath she had taken rushed out of her in a loud gasp. She sucked air through her teeth but another gasp came allowing it to escape again, and somewhere in the back of her mind the doctor in her said agonal phase. The pain made her feel lightheaded and before she could even throw her hands out to catch herself she was on the deck, her cheek pressing into the wonderfully cold, moist wood. The pain coiled around her lungs and stomach viciously before she mercifully lost consciousness.

[Kind of an eh post, sorry I wanted to make it because I have written it like 4 times then deleted it but I didn't word things the way I wanted, I left Michael out because of that but he is has moved to Rowan's side and is on the deck with her, I just couldn't get into his character really. Anyway, sorry I just wanted to move the plot forward to a more action filled scene in hopes that I will be able to get into Michael & Julien better then.)