Destruction of the Legends: The Rp

Aurelia nodded slightly then turned her attention away from Lestat, well at least her eyes. She was, however, very aware of him staring at her. It made her extremely self-conscious but she didn't want him to look away. She wanted him to see what he had created, to see what he has done. Maybe he wouldn't have to second guess himself every time he thought about why he changed her. Maybe he would follow what he thought before, of why he hadn't just killed her. Maybe...

He spoke her name and she looked up at him once more. If she were human her heart would beat erratically and her breathing would increase greatly. But since she had no pulse, her reaction was a simple half smile paired with innocent eyes. She wanted him to just lean in, and forget about everything she had done wrong, every time he didn't want her around, and the fact that she was just once a worthless prey he had tried to kill. She wanted to bring him close to her, to run her fingers through his hair, to taste... But it was his move, Aurelia knew it would be way out of line for her to do such a thing without him making the first move.

Lestat was so unfairly close, if she were just to close the gap... Then he pulled back. She dropped her head slightly and her smile faded. Aurelia didn't know what to think, did he or could he rather, love her? Or did she already miss her chance? It was hard to figure things out when Lestat couldn't make up his mind. Aurelia, though unable to figure out her emotions, nodded and hauled herself up to follow him outside.

Lestat stood to his feet, the sound of his boots echoed in the room. He put out his hand to help Aurelia to her feet. He knew deep inside he cared for Aurelia like no other vampire. Yet he being the egocentric person he was wouldn't admit to himself he loved her.
He pulled open the door and walked out into the hallway. He could sense Jessi growing uneasy, he chose to ignore it for the time being. He quickly abandoned the theater for the city streets of Paris. He knew Jacob was searching for him and Lestat had no intention of meeting him yet, nor exposing Aurelia to that horror.

(errr recap? please)

(oh my...you guys gotta keep up...okay so Aurelia tryed to kill a human in mid street so Lestat and Jessi sped off to stop her. Then Jacob showed up so Jessi and Aurelia ran off to Armand's Theater des Vampires to hide from Jacob and daylight..while Lestat made Jacob follow him...and then Jacob lost Lestat and now Lestat and Aurelia are like having an intimate moment...)

(i see)

Aurelia followed as Lestat took to the streets. Night had finally fallen once more, and it seemed every time she breathed in the night air she could clear her head. Life seemed so much easier in the shadows and darkness. But now, instead of the full freedom she was usually granted, she was bound to Lestat or death would be inevitable. If she were to ever meet the humans that had restricted her freedom would surely pay. She sighed, stopping her almost uncontrollable rage from boiling too much.

"May I go hunt? Or will you deprive me of that too?"

She didn't mean to come off as a smart ass, but she couldn't help it at a time like this. Aurelia's eyes met Lestat's and she raised in eyebrow in question with a sort of smug expression. She wouldn't respect him as much as he would like her too. It annoyed him, and she knew it, but only if he would show some emotion or interest in something other than himself would she give him the admiration he wanted.

Lestat broke the connection with Aurelia and spoke into the wind " You may..don't wander off to far though" He walked away from her and joined the crowds of Paris toward the Eiffel Tower. his mind was filled with so much confusion and discomfort. He knew Aurelia would never be what he wanted and the fact he had lied to her just minutes before about his reasons to give her the dark gift pained him, yet if he had told her the truth she'd rebel even more, just to see how far she could use it to her advantage. He sighed and start the ascent to the tip of the tower.
The top of the tower was his favorite place in Paris, possibly even Europe. He was able to see the whole city which reminded him of New Orleans, Paris was a home away from home, everyone spoke his native tongue and respected him. New Orleans was once the same but as the times changed so did his beloved city and now it was nothing more then an English city with a small french courter, and he detested being confined to a small area, which is why he made the move back to Paris. The last time he had been here was just after Marius left him to fend for himself.
Lestat leaned back against the cold metal, he closed his eyes and listened to the minds of the people surrounding him on the ground below. He smiled as he drifted in and out of mortals minds.
" If only they knew..." he whispered.

The night was cool, the mood lonely. Words need not be a requirement for the setting. It was dismal... dark... sinful...

Within the canyon carved out by the buildings, people scurried to their own destinations. A young couple laughed as they enjoyed the dinner they had just shared together. Upon the woman's finger, a brand new wedding ring shimmered in the moonlight. Newfound lovers would be married in the summer. Within the male's head there came the new wife that would massage his back when he asked, cook him his breakfast, provide him a strong son that would surpass his piers in all sports and be a regular genius at the same time. The woman's thoughts filled with romantic nights. She thought of candlelight suppers, her lover reading her poetry, the two spending glorious nights in bed, but never did she think of children.

The lovers would find life hitting them far harder than they had planned. young, inexperienced, they would clash in their later years. Their child would grow up without a proper family. Was this what made the night so gloomy?

Deeper within an alley, a female prostitute showed herself off to potential employers. A heavy set man, balding in several places and sprouting hair in others, inspected her. He slid his hand under her tight top and felt her, then smirked. She took the money into her hands and got into his car. She wouldn't return to the streets that night. The police would find her body poisoned and withered on the floor. Her bodily fluids would coat the ground, making DNA testings impossible. The man would get away clean and the mother, forced into prostitution to care for her three-year-old son, would never again open her eyes.

Exiting the alleys, the homes inside contained violence. Inside a small, disarrayed apartment, a woman fell against the floor. Her lover stepped upon her hand, bringing his free foot up to smash against her side. She gasped, clutching her stomach and being thrown into the wall. Sliding down, her eyes filled with tears. Her drunken love would beat his girlfriend and she would abort their first baby. He would be taken to jail and the woman was doomed to dying during her birth of the dead child.

The air was fragile. It brushed along his cheek. Pale digits dragged along pale cheek. China doll skin coated his flesh. As if powdered, it remained clinging to his skin. It sunk deep into the cracks of his flesh. Should he be called albino? No. His eyes were not red as such an albinos would be. His optics were filled with hazel liquid. It filtered into his irises and beamed through the ebonite pupils. Long strands of flowing brown hair swept across his face.

How long had it been since Lestat had claimed his mortality? He had been created and dubbed a monster. The vile creature had stared down upon him. Caught within his fear, the other had fled. Though, no matter how much he tried to avoid his creator, he always stumbled across the satanic spawn. Those eyes etched into his memory... eyes of a demon... eyes of a servant... eyes of his father...

Father. Hm. Perhaps this was stretched. Surely the man wasn't his biological father? Well that was obviously. But then... he wasn't who he used to be either. He had long ago changed. He had taken that step when Lestat had ripped out his heart, slipped it into his hand, and squeezed the screaming pump... Though he had left, Lestat still had a hold on him. In some unseen chain he was bound to the other. Was this why he had come to the city? Was Lestat here?

Optics shut slowly. He listened to the screams of the city, the tears of a child that would go hungry tonight, the cry of a young girl losing her virginity to a gang rape... Why had he come to such a vile town? Nothing but sinners and the suffering thrived there. Vampiric as he may be, he had never lost the emotions that separated him from the others. He felt sympathy for the ones that got kicked down, he felt sorrow when he glimpsed at families, he felt yearning when he hid in the shadows as children played in the sun, he felt the lust of watching a woman pass by with her figure flowing with fullness, he felt the sorrow of knowing he would never again join them...

Standing, the wind caught his hair. He turned his eyes to the moon. The light filled his face. Lunar light... This was all he would ever know. His loose under shirt pulled at his shoulders as they flowed behind him. His jeans, tight and ripped in several places, provided enough flexibility to maneuver as he did.

Jumping from the roof he disappeared from the eyes of the moon. It watched as its child fell into the alleys. He had joined the misery and was now walking within the sea of sorrows. Some treaded the water, others drowned... Him? He was immortal. Should he drowned he would rise. That was the curse Lestat put upon him.

A sudden need tugged at him. It was not hunger as you would feel in the stomach. He had been stolen that sense as soon as he joined the vampric others. Jumping from the alley, he caught the air. Moving swiftly, he flew over the city. Pity or not he needed to feed. He spotted a man holding a gun to a woman's head and flew down. To feast on sinners was not as wrong as hungrily licking the blood from the innocent, right?

This is what Luis liked to think as he dropped from the sky and snatched the man. A scream ended in a gurgle as the woman fled. He removed his fangs from the flesh of the man. Suckling gently at the holes, he fed with polite slowness. Was he to be forever cursed like this? Was this all he would ever know?

Questions such as these had answers. You need only ask the right person. And that person... was Lestat...

(okay bumperness where is everyone?)

(Omg, sorry it has taken me forever. Can you say busy? Oh, excuses, excuses...)

Watching as Lestat disappeared into the crowds of the living, Aurelia took off in the other direction. She had told him she was going to hunt, but they both knew it was just a lie. She was still new and inexperienced, and although the lust for blood was strong and always ebbing her on, she found little excitement in the feast. It was as if she was some mutated form of a vegetarian, yet forced to eat 'meat' in order to survive. Not necessarily feeling apologetic towards the victim, she killed them nonetheless out of pure jealousy. Aurelia hated to think that she was envious of this scum that wandered the streets during the night, but Aurelia knew that she was part of the riff-raff that littered the alley-ways.

The monotonous murmur of humans strutting the city had started to bore her. She was restricted to Paris's city limits, but even that wasn't enough. Aurelia felt contained, almost as if she were some type of... monster, locked in a cage. No. That was just an exaggeration, she told herself. But then again, why wouldn't Lestat let her roam freely? Surely not because of some group of humans; she was immortal, they were not, she found that self-explanatory and still didn't believe that Lestat could fear them. Why was he holding onto her if he was just going to push her away? Did he want her to leave again? The thought of it was always on her mind. She could just go off to hunt and never return. It would be so easy, so thoughtless, so...

A shriek ripped the lulled undertone of voices and the thick scent of fresh blood tore Aurelia away from her thoughts. Screams were nothing to jump about, and neither was the smell of blood, but something was wrong. There was no commotion as there usually was, no gunshot, no thrown punches, nothing. No sign of any struggle, it was a silent bloodshed that Curiosity took hold and she followed the scent down the street. Aurelia pushed through the crowds of raunchy humans trying to find exactly where this killing had happened. It was dark alley after empty dark alley that she passed and began to grow anxious. She wanted to know, but didn't know why she did so much. Aurelia could smell the certain delicious aroma getting closer with each step. Knowing whatever it was that had caused such a sudden and quiet death was near and as she turned off the street Aurelia smirked as she found what she had been looking for.

The man before her was quite handsome, one she would probably choose to hunt, if he were human that is. The second she had laid eyes on him, Aurelia knew that he could not possibly be living. His skin seemed to glow in the darkness as it were iridescent, but it was not just his appearance that set her off, it was what he was holding. Another man, dead and limp in his arms with the sweet crimson still dripping from a gash in his flesh. She had never met another vampire, unless it was through Lestat first. It would make sense for the one before her wasn't just in Paris for the views, but of course for her creator. Pondering for a moment, she figured that he was harmless in a sense that they were both of the same race and in Paris for the same reason. She wondered though if Lestat would mind, or be angry for socializing with one he might not approve of. But as she quickly shook that thought from her mind, Aurelia walked gracefully yet slowly toward him with an eyebrow raised in unspoken question.

Lestat suddenly woke from his trance set on my the stars shining high above him...the presence was stronger now, he knew he had sensed someone from his past and now he knew it to be true.
He quickly gather himself up and jumped from the tower the to ground below making sure he stayed out of sight. The need for blood over came him but he needed to ignore it as much as possible. If this person truly was in Paris it could mean chaos for his plans later. He knew if Aurelia came across him she'd just discover the true way to abandon him and as much as it pained him to say so he needed her.
Lestat sped off into the crowd trying to pin point this man.

(okay looking for a post from K....anything?)

(Eep! Sorry! I've had so many doctor's appointments lately. I'm so fed up with it. But I'm back!)

The crimson blood ran down. Droplet after droplet taunting him. It pulled at his gut like a stomach pain. He could no longer feel that need, but it still had the affect upon his memory. In mental hunger he drove his fangs deeper. A drug of sorts, he needed to thick liquid pouring down his throat. He needed to gurgle on the red clots, to fall into the life of the other, to cure that narcotic need.

How does one describe an addiction of life? This is what humans have been craving to know. Everyone has addictions. In that one sentence someone could influence a child into cigarettes. Everyone had an addiction. Only those cunning enough and with eyes that peer into one's soul may see this. Your childhood protectors would shield it from your eyes. They would say addictions were bad. In a way, yes. But addictions saved us from ourselves in one way or another.

A smoker is addicted to cigarettes. A drunk addicted to alcohol. A murderer addicted to killing. An arsenic addicted to flame. A painter addicted to painting. A photographer addicted to taking photos. A mother addicted to her child. Lovers addicted to love. A masochist addicted to sex. A fighter addicted to fighting. A gunman addicted to gunshots. A husband addicted to his wife. A child addicted to soda. A mentally wounded teenager addicted to heroine. A suicidal young girl addicted to Death...

Was it wrong to say all addictions were bad? Most parents would tell you 'no' to protect you from becoming addicted to something harmful. Was painting not harmful? Was your imagination not harmful? Was love not harmful? Parents are wrong. Children should be exposed to all addictions, so that they may learn from such things.

This was what he had been pulled away from. Never before had he had such an addiction. Blood was now his craving. It was his curse. He needed it to live. If he had no blood, he would die. This was not the mental decomposing that one would go to an asylum for. He would truly die. His body would deform and he would be clawing at his scalp to free himself.

What institution would house a vampire? What drug could he take to cure himself? What binds would hold him?

Finding nothing to answer his questions, he continued to lap at the man's blood. Though he hated it, though he felt for the man's life that he stole, a choice was out of his grasp. Choice had been snatched from his hands in that one breath of living dead he had been stolen of everything dear to him.

Wiping the blood from his upper lip, it stained along his hand. Dripping down his wrist. The crimson droplets fell to the street. The man - drained and frozen in the terror-stricken face he had been left in - lay down in a pile of trash. He was full without really being full. He had no energy to think of how to describe the feeling when he knew he was content.

A footstep behind him caught his auds. Turning swiftly, his muscles tensed as a cat's would. His nerves sparked suddenly. His brain froze in the fight or flight response. Baring his fangs, his eyes found a young woman approaching her. Her body moved like a feather fluttering from the roof of a building. Her eyes questioned him. Normally he would attack to save himself. Befriending mortals was a mistake. He had made that error before and would never do such again.

However, her scent bound him to his place. His lips eased back over his fangs slowly. She was a vampire much like himself. Her pale complexion was unrivaled by the mortals that he walked amongst. Her beauty was also a give-away. Only those that suffer true death held such beauty within them. Perhaps in this one small gift they were given for never again taking a true breath, or feeling their heartbeat, they were given mercy.

In a fluid-influenced motion, Luis took a bow before her. He spread out his arm in a sweeping movement. It was strange to find a vampire acting like such a gentleman, but that was just how the man acted.

"Luis, m'lady.."

That was all he spoke to her. He had learned a few words of British, but his own language was still strong in his vocals. Would she understand his tongue? He doubted that. Other persons seemed hesitant when they heard him speak.

Still in a bow, his hair hanging over his jewels, he hid the look of worry on his face. Something else was coming. This vampire mistress was not the only face he would meet that night. He mentally prepared himself, while trying to let his bodice remain cool and at ease before the lady he stood before.

(woot! okay I was starting to think you had disappeared! but yah good post! and just to let you know it's Louis...not luis....but thats okay!)

Lestat pushed through the crowds of people leaving the theatres surrounding the area. He walked across bridge and pass Notre Dame, he paused for a seconded glancing around at the architecture, he knew vampire hide in this area but the one he searched for wasn't here.
He kept going along his course, crossing another bridge and once again joining the busy streets of Paris. He caught glimpse of Aurelia, then when he sped up to find her, she had disappeared in the darkness. He stopped pushing his way passed a young couple giggling, he leaned against a brick building trying to focus his energy on Aurelia, he knew she wasn't far but someone else was distracting her thoughts making it extremely difficult to find her. It was then that he released she was in fact with the man he had hoped had not found her yet.
" Louis what are you planning..."

A smirk lingered across Aurelia's pale lips as the man before her tensed at her presence. He didn't seem very comfortable her being there, but that made no difference to her, she was used to others feeling uneasy in her presence. She quickly became fascinated with the creature that stood before her, sensing something strangely different about him. True, he was the same beautiful monster as she was, but the fact that he held something unlike herself slightly annoyed her.

He, no doubt, was here for Lestat.. Why else would a vampire come to a city such as this? It was rare for her to ever come across another, actually, she realized with a grimace, she had never met a vampire unless it was through her creator. It was for her own protection, he had told her once, but Aurelia had never wanted to believe him. He just wanted her form himself, how selfish and unreasonable of him.

Speak of the devil, and the devil shall come. Aurelia felt her sire coming closer, yet she couldn't understand why. Of course he would know of this visitor, but Lestat was never one to greet someone. He waited for them to find him first, something Aurelia found ridiculous and that it shouldn't be honored. But why was he now frantically searching for the two? This was very uncharacteristic of him. Lestat was hiding something. Something she should have caught earlier than this.

Realizing what was so different of the man before her, Aurelia stopped as he bowed and introduced himself to her. A thick accent caught her a bit off guard, but she comprehended pretty well. Louis appeared very formal and old fashioned, probably because of the time period he was changed, but was stunning nonetheless. Once again she strode closer to him, intrigued by a distinguishable trait, one that, although the two were very alike in many ways, set them apart. He was not tied to another. She was. Aurelia could feel her childish jealousy spreading through her.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Louis. But..." she paused for a moment, making sure he understood her well enough, then continued,"before we get any further, would you mind explaining why Lestat is in such a hurry to meet you?"

Aurelia already knew the basic answer to her own question, but still liked things clarified by others. She could only hope that Lestat was not as good as a tracker as he claimed to be.

Lestat stopped dead on the street, she had done what he needed to find her. She had spoken, he could easily pick her thoughts up when she spoke. He turned down an alley and aped off toward her location. As he approached her where abouts he slowed down and kept to the shadows. He hoped the other vampire, his own creation would not be aware enough to pick him out, which he already knew to be impossible. Louis was so aware, so attentive, and so in tuned with the world around him, and after their parting in New Orleans so many years ago, after Lestat killed Claudia, Louis' true love and "daughter", he knew Louis would have to come with a purpose to find Lestat and he knew Louis would be hoping for this.

(Post coming! Promises!! I'd get one up there tonight but I'm exhausted and I have to wake up early for a doctor's appointment. [It's Sunday tomorrow... plus we have a foot of snow outside. I hate life. *Le pouts*] But anyways! It should be up tomorrow night because we aren't having school monday. The snow is terrible...!)

(...still waiting on K....why do My rps get ignored!.)