#vampvoices

[@vampvoices - plotted starter for Santiago] - [let the games begin]

The Théâtre des Vampires had long since emptied the contents of its mortal audience into the night air, the last of them skittering away under the streetlamps of the hazy Paris evening. The stage still resonated with the warmth of candles and the air still hung heavy with the scent of smoke and blood, though the troupe had since dispersed to their respective duties or alternatively their secret haunts which they thought he knew naught.

Of course he knew. But still, he allowed them their little illegitimacies, provided confidence was not gained too swiftly.

Armand lingered, as he often did, among the velvet shadows just offstage. Contemplating. The quiet there suited him, allowed for himself and the theatre to breathe without pretense, to observe the cavernous hall in its brutal honesty. No applause, no mortal awe. Just silence. There was something restorative about it, he was sure, for he felt more at peace in the quietude than he did in the presence of most others.

He felt Santiago's presence before the youngling vampire had even set foot upon the boards, and shifted his weight just so, just enough to allow his periphery to capture the shadows beyond the dim halo of the wall's sconces. The scraping of a boot, the ripple of obscured heartstrings pressed too brightly against the darkness, the scent of cloves preceding him. Santiago never had been quite able to master the fine art of entering a room unnoticed.

Only when he felt the air stir just behind him did Armand finally glance aside, a half-smile touching his lips, a subtle and unhurried expression.

"You stay behind tonight, while you should be out with the others, tippling your ovations." He tilted his head a bit, dark curls shifting against the collar of his shirt. Something lingered at the edges of his stillness, an uncharacteristic anticipation. "I wonder... Is it only the echo of the audience's adoration that you seek… or is there something more?"

The words, two simple words, broke his heart. To hear Louis say them, to imply that he was broken, it overwhelmed him for a moment with a deep sorrow. He looked at Louis, who appeared tired and worn, clearly from lack of nutrition and very obviously suffering from hunger, and saw the way his complexion seemed almost ashy, his eyes no longer bright with the light that had been there once, that had drawn Lestat in like a lighthouse beacon, piercing the dark. His immediate rejection of hunting and feeding from humans had caused an abrupt and drastic change in his both his physical health and his personality.

Exhaustion haunted his every defiant step as he refused the blood of those who would suffer from his cravings, turning instead to animals. He was weak, as if mortal. And worst of all, he had not seen him smile in what felt like forever. Lestat reached out and cupped his face, lifting it from where Louis seemed to be intently focused on the ground. Fix me. "Louis, oh Louis," he said, his voice soft, as if speaking to a child. Fix me. What could he do? Force him to drink? Press his mouth against a bleeding wound and compel him to consume? The animals were not enough, they would never be enough. His body was screaming, pleading for sustenance. His palms cradled his face, meeting his gaze, moving to kneel before him. Pleading, begging.

@vampvoices

Lestat hadn't even realised that he had laughed. It had slipped out of him subconsciously and it left him in the awkward position where he had to explain what had been so amusing to him. The timing was not the best he would admit. He shook his head and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, before he slipped onto the seat beside her. He did have to clarify because, without that, it looked like he was laughing at her learning to play the piano and that would be cutting to anyone, let alone to a creature as sensitive as Claudia. Then again, they were all rather sensitive as a family. It was no wonder that there were frequent arguments between them all.

his appearance in paris came with no fanfare. for centuries, he'd avoided the city, aware that armand's reign remained intact after so long. to be the master in rome didn't change that he was likewise a deserter. he'd force-fed his followers the doctrine and to say he no longer believed would have created a hurricane of bloodshed. the coven would do what he taught them to.

it had taken him so long to gather the courage to follow his curiosity to paris.

he never thought he'd see the day that vampires poised themselves as actors for a human audience. in the old days, he may have set fire to the whole establishment. but times have changed. he hasn't witnessed a show yet, nor reached out to the coven in its entirety. while positive that his presence has shaken their leader, he's requested that he bring no attention to him yet.

of course, that didn't guarantee that his attempts to block his presence would be successful. tonight, he finds it clearly hadn't been because at least one of the actors has not only noticed but found him. santino stands near the river, eyes on the dark water.

❝ join me, child. you'll learn far more than by watching. ❞

@vampvoices // santino for santiago !!

Send " ❗❗❗ " for your muse to suddenly and unexpectedly kiss mine. - from Louis @vampvoices

He hadn't expected the kiss, they had been watching a movie when all of a sudden Louis kissed him, dropping his phone, Daniel reached up and cupped Louis' face as he kissed him. Brushing a thumb across Louis' lip he said, "this is a surprise."

@vampvoices asked: ❛  i don't like where this is going.  ❜ (santiago.)

the auditorium is empty save the two of them. it's another night knowing that there are two strangers in paris — strangers with no regard for decorum ( or vampire decency ). as the days continue to tick forward, armand knows that he's edging closer to making the first move himself. he's aware that the rest of the coven is antsy ( and so is he ), but he'll give them a little more time before he reveals himself.

the fact that they walked around paris, unaware of the other vampires is more than perplexing to him.

armand fusses over one of the set pieces, thumb brushing over chipped paint. he suspects impatience in santiago's voice and before he resumes talk of their vampire guests, he thinks aloud, ❝ this wall needs work, it's tacky. ❞ and with a sigh, he reaches into the pocket of his trousers, withdrawing his cigarette case as he turns to face santiago again. ❝ well, then, in my place, what would you do? ❞ he asks, no trick to the question.

❝ tell me where it's going and how you'd divert it. ❞

add 3-6 films you think your muse would like and tag a friend or two.

Armand's Favorites (which he is VERY MUCH AGAINST me sharing):

And The Honorable Mentions (ahahahakshfslhgslgs):

(listen if I didn't put RHPS I'd be lying to us all)

tagged by: @vampvoices (thank you darling, I love these!) tagging: @eladead (for the snooping), @strxgxi (Daniel), @ourstoriesunfold (Viktor, Anakin or Ahsoka).