Faith in Madness

"The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all." 

Independent Roleplay Page for Bianca Solderini, character from The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice. 

Around 10 years general roleplay experience, new to Tumblr. 

Multi-Verse; Will roleplay with any fandom.

Flexible roleplay.

All types of storylines encouraged Smut, Adventure, AU, etc. 

Aim & Skype available upon request.

Friendly & Understanding Mun; Never rush. 

Send (☉_☉) and my muse will have to explain why they have no clothes on.

Gera pops her head out of a cabinet. “Yeah, man. Where do ya keep your hooch?”

"What use would I have for it," he asked and she rolled her pale jade eyes. "What, you don’t entertain? "

"Better than nothin.’" She snapped up the pack in a hurry, tapping down the contents out of habit before she plucked a stick and lodged it between her lips. Hera mumbled around the smoke, "What kinda monastery’re you runnin’ here, Lucy? Like, is this a shelter for nosferatu who don’t know how to vamp or are you retired? 'Cause I'm down for a little shuffleboard if you wanna grab your walker and head out back for a round."

He wasn't sure how well this woman knew him, but clearly she didn't know much of his reputation, or she wouldn't have asked him to put a flame anywhere near her face. He took a deep breath though, his somber green eyes closing briefly before he reached for his lighter and flicked the little flame to life for her convenience. 

Armand walked steadily through the corridor to the foyer, never phased by the lavish adornments and antiques Marius so deeply loved. He walked among them, neatly fitting in, hair matching the red drapery and golden tones of absolutely everything. He could have just as easily disappeared in the wooden panels that lined the walls as well. Armand was a muse to Marius in every respect it seemed and ahead of them was one of his many grande murals spanning the entirety of the hind of this foyer. At last the boy turned on his heels dressed in argyle socks.

Gera pops her head out of a cabinet. “Yeah, man. Where do ya keep your hooch?”

"Where is my…what?? I don’t keep women. To be honest, I’m not even sure why you’re here…Why are you here? How did you get in?" 

"I said hooch, not cooch." She walked on opening drawers and doors searching. "And whether you play with’em or not," her nose stuck in the air, sniffing him out without facing him, "a guy your age oughtta know the difference between liquor and cunt. Even one as stiff as you uh, appear to be."

"Liquor!? That's what you're looking for?" He sat up more on his couch and gave her a baffled look before shaking his head and stamping out his cigarette. "Of course I don't have any liquor, what use would I have for it?" He scoffed slightly.He was suddenly reminded of the agitation he felt when Lestat was in one of his moods. 

"Forgive the smell. These aren’t my preferred brand. I usually get mine from France when I visit, they’re much cleaner and smell nicer, but it’s been some time since I’ve visited." He smiled slightly and looked back to the burning stick. He’d gotten the idea when thinking back to his interview with Daniel, he’d had quite a few while they sat together and talked. He’d found a fondness for watching them then.

He took his first pull of the smoke, feeling the soft, dangerous burn of it in his mouth, the taste it left briefly before he let he smoke escape in small, curling rings just to enjoy the vision of them in the low light of the room. He’d often spend hours sitting in the dark doing just this. But now, it came with the time to consider Lestat’s offer. 

"It's an...acquired taste." He said softly as he saw the first puff of smoke leave Lestat's lips. The two of them must look rather funny in that moment. Like so many other mortals Louis watched in his quiet time, sharing a pack of cigarettes. The mortality of the scene amused him slightly, even brought a small smile to his face. 

Send (☉_☉) and my muse will have to explain why they have no clothes on.

"Yes…I leave it from time to time. Though I dare say, where I leave it to isn’t always to your tastes. You would find my life painfully boring Lestat." 

He’d often imagined it, Lestat in his home again, but such fantasies were always ruined by even his own subconscious realizing Lestat wouldn’t stand for such things. It was sure to end in shouting or bickering, but most likely Lestat just walking out and not returning. 

"Forgive the smell. These aren't my preferred brand. I usually get mine from France when I visit, they're much cleaner and smell nicer, but it's been some time since I've visited." He smiled slightly and looked back to the burning stick. He'd gotten the idea when thinking back to his interview with Daniel, he'd had quite a few while they sat together and talked. He'd found a fondness for watching them then.

He took his first pull of the smoke, feeling the soft, dangerous burn of it in his mouth, the taste it left briefly before he let he smoke escape in small, curling rings just to enjoy the vision of them in the low light of the room. He'd often spend hours sitting in the dark doing just this. But now, it came with the time to consider Lestat's offer.