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Sept-Tours, named for the seven towers of the fortress that Matthew de Clermont had build to reenforce the medieval fortress stood proud and sprawling in what one day will be called Clermont-Ferrand, the family that resided in this proud structure took the name de Clermont, of the bright hills, to distinguish themselves as being from the hills of Auvergne. Their gardens were immaculate, their estate vast and the purchase of this land a mere thirty years ago had been cheap, 1709 brought massive crop failures and caused the loss of 3.5 % of the French population due to famine, a period which one day would be called the little ice age and they brought gold and grain.... well Alcides Leontothymos did (Philippe's name at the time) and not much would be heard from the estate owners until three decades ago when Philippe suddenly inherited the land and with his wife and young children moved in.

The young children were mortal and belonged to their servants but carriages arrived and snooping eyes best see youths that would grow into the young men and women of the family. They kept themselves to their estate mostly, Ysabeau looked as young today as she did three decades ago but portraits were never made accurate, no memory fades fast and portraits showed a much younger woman slowly turning to Ysabeau.

The past two years had been tense and civil unrest grew.

A letter had been sent to the Marquis d' Auvergne that the peasants were threatening to abandon their farms, wolves attacked their live stock and when wealthy landlords lost their farm hands...the aristocracy lost their taxes. It all boiled down to this, placate them, soothe them and persuade the vassals of the reaches that action would be taken and their complains did not fall on deaf ears. The de Clermonts had a strange coldness to them, Philippe had been a man proven in many a battle and the heads of bandits often separated from their necks from his sword...who was to say they would not hold a son hostage? No, it would not be Augustin that would be sent to the dangerous reaches.

Lestat had arrived on horseback early, a day early to be precise and they had expected a carriage thus thought the merchant's road would be taken and not the far more treacherous dirt roads near the woodlands. Just the youngest son on a single horse with two hunting dogs...no guards, no carriage... in garbs that would not look out of place in the local tavern.

Do you know how much strength it takes a vampire to break out of the hold of the sun? As her servants flocked to who they thought was an intruder until the letter of summons was presented, her Mind was open and perceived it all, she broke the sun's hold over her, emerged from the death sleep early and in vampiric speed got dressed. She was disoriented from the effort it took to break the sun's hold, ancient vampires could but it was not easy.

"You ought to praise the cunningness of being inconspicuous on treacherous roads." Ysabeau spoke as the letter written in Philippe's hand was still being verified by the house guards. "Attend to his horse and dogs. With my sincerest apologies marquis de Lioncourt, we were expecting Augustin to not arrive until tomorrow." a slight bow of head as the second housekeeper freed him from his coat. Sons bore the titles of their fathers even if only two were presented at court. She did not remember ever seeing him, but she would blame her lack of interest in the parades of court.

"Frederick, Camille- attend to the marquis' son please. Anything he wishes-" The two servants now charged to attend him bowed their heads to the mistress of the house. "You will find your quarters in the East wing, Camille will draw you a bath. They are yours for the duration of your stay, anything we can do to make your attendance more pleasant. Marthe my housekeeper shall attend to you upon the evening, my apologies for her absence...and for my husband's absence who is still hunting for a stag to present to you in honour with our sons. Old Greek traditions of his lineage..."

"You will not find him in a good mood, I fear." Ysabeau would escort the young aristocrat up the stairs showing him their family portrait on the way to the East Wing. "We pay vast taxes and your father has not visited or attended our needs, my husband does not take well to disrespect when his sword and the lives of mercenaries paid for by our coffers keep the merchant's road safe. I speak to you in confidence as a wife and mother that does not wish to see a revolt through hubris and negligence. Your quarters." No, she liked the easy life they had, hunting was easy in the rural edges of civilization but they had to play the vassal lords and complain about taxes and lack of representation.

What time would you like dinner set ?

"Seven will suffice." she instructed the male servant as Camille opened the curtains to what would be Lestat's bedchambers and quarters for the three days they expected him to stay...four seeing as he arrived early.

The servants would tell her later how strange it was that Lestat insisted on bathing himself.

Should he open the doors and try to leave his quarters he'd find that the assigned male servants had been stationed to wait outside his door in case he was required and had been playing cards by himself on the mantelpiece next to the chamber doors.

@chervbino // meme

"You're a shameless flirt, what am I going to do with you?" Matthew's face changed from rage from the fight to mild embarrassment to have Armand flatter him like that. It was three weeks ago Matthew spoke of the issue of a would be Coven Leader turning his 'parishioners' to vampires and now, it was done. He took no pleasure in it, in fact the act was dispassionate, an extermination, pest control. A chore he had to attend to like many others...and Armand would help him clear up the rest. Swift, painless...finally at peace and with Armand's Fire Gift and a scattering of the ashes it was all done.

They would clean and using their vampiric speed it would not take very long at all. This church would never be a place of worship but at least time could ravage it and something else might be rebuilt...or now that said priest was gone maybe someone would look at the church and wonder what happened to it.

"I need a hot bath." He took Armand's hand in his own, both had been bloodied, a soft kiss pressed on Armand's forehead.

@dollstuck

Daniel stood very still, the way a man does when the night itself has just leaned in and whispered something it shouldn’t. The alley around them was narrow, wet, humming with the low electric throb of the city—neon bleeding into puddles, the air sharp with rain that hadn’t yet fallen. Claudia’s question hung between them like a match struck in the dark, small and dangerous and strangely intimate.He let out a slow breath he didn’t need, eyes flicking past her to the shape slumped behind her boots.

A body. Fresh. He could smell the iron, the silence, the story of it. Something in him—old instincts, new hunger—tightened with a kind of reluctant fascination and then he looked back at her, this resurrected girl with centuries in her eyes and dirt already on her hands.

Daniel’s laugh was barely a sound—more an exhale, sharp at the edges, like he couldn’t decide whether to be impressed or deeply, deeply tired. The streetlight above them flickered, throwing Claudia’s face into brief, stuttering gold, and he took in the sight of her: resurrected, unbothered, standing over a corpse like she was asking him to help rearrange furniture.He dragged a hand through his hair, rain‑damp tresses catching on his fingers, and stepped closer until he could see the dirt under her nails.

"You’ve been a vampire longer than I’ve been alive, Cee de Pee" he said, voice low, dry, threaded with that old reporter’s disbelief. "You could probably bury three bodies before I finished tying my shoes."But there was no accusation in it—just a weary sort of fondness, the kind he never meant to show. He glanced at the dead man again, then back at her, something resigned settling into his shoulders.

"And yet here you are asking the rookie for help.Is this a hazing thing?"

"If you got to ask me how to make him happy you are not on the right track, buddy. He'd find it disappointing you sought advice from his ex dash fledgling instead of being yourself and it coming from the heart and trust me he can tell. Are you someone that is romantic at heart, I don't mean bust out the unprompted poems I mean in the sense that you are prepared to be cosmically devoted to him as if the very atoms that birthed you vibrate in the same frequency as his? Are you a fully formed person with interests...maybe have like a weird little hobby? He's the kind of guy that likes people that are their own people, don't worry about the fact that clashes with my previous statement, learn to be a living dichotomy."

He thought for a moment about what he did that seemed to make Armand happy. "Uh, share your passions with him, don't half ass his. I educated myself in art, the renaissance, learned a bit of French just to make conversation easier, do little things that show you try to understand him and appreciate him, he would find it more romantic if you like...took some burdens of his plate than if you just bought him flowers, acts of service, quality time sort of things. I signed us up to a lot of like thse crash course classes so we learned to do a lot of things together, he seemed to like that I had an us mentality. Treat him well. He deserves to be with someone that will treat him well. He has a lot of love to give, only get with him if you are prepared to love someone that is flawed...be patient, keep a level head...he comes across very intimidating and has some pretty high walls so you will need to be patient and build that trust. Best of luck...I guess?"