Look Alive, Sunshine

You're one of us You're a part of the night You're one of us Say goodbye to the light

step 1: apology tour

And on one hand it is so painful watching him Really Earnestly Trying and watching everyone respond with rage.

On the other hand, in their own way Daniel and Lestat are both telling him to be sincere, and those apology notes were not sincere: they were classic fawn response "everything is my fault forever" and didn't actually apologize for THE THINGS DANIEL AND LESTAT ARE MAD ABOUT.

In Daniel's case the anger is straightforward: Daniel wants sincerity, Daniel wants the truth, Daniel wants to break people down and see the seething belly beneath. He met Armand at a moment where Armand was fully unhinged and hiding nothing, and since then (as far as he remembers) Armand has always been putting on a show. And after two years of Daniel miserably pining for him, Armand shows up with yet another show. Of course Daniel's going to be furious, and of course Daniel's going to push every button he can find because that's what Daniel does.

In Lestat's case it's easier to see his acts as purely hate-driven, but on third watch I actually think he too is demanding sincerity. "Be yourself" is a real statement. "Big Boss" is clearly catty and petty and all over the place (Armand having a bad hair day, since when) but the actual accusations are pretty clear: you want to control the narrative, you think you and you alone have the right to decide who is good and bad, you killed Claudia.

And Armand didn't apologize for any of those things, in fact Armand is still trying to control the narrative and still trying to decide who's good and bad, he's just moving himself to "bad" and moving Lestat to "good."

(side note gosh Lestat you sure do have a thing for controlling judgy self-flagellating men maybe you should explore that about yourself)

Whoever is listening realising they went bankrupt so they could listen to this shit:

When you helped me rebuild the Paris coven with your visionary conceit of a vampire theatre whilst sharing your body and blood, I artlessly assumed companionship, which was, upon reflexion, wish-fulfilling delusion rooted in childhood conflict. Your exit from Paris and beyond generous endowment you left us with was graceful and sensitive… And I shamefully blamed your mother. When I had the opportunity to speak truth to Louis concerning my involvement in the matineé production of--

Not a production, an actual trial with definitive sentences of death.

I retreated to cowardice and was dumbfounded by your silence in the ruined tower of your former maker. I walked thge rest of the century on a carpet of egg shells, knowing at any moment you could reach out to Louis and make him the wiser. At first, I felt it was you torturing me.

It was.

Now I know it was richness of character.

No. It was torture. I knew it would eat you alive and, tangentially make Louis miserable. And that is how I chose to spend the latter half of the 20th century.