#strxgxi

[sanguisprince]

Lestat & Armand, The Vampire Lestat

[monbellemonstre]

[@strxgxi from here]

The word 'read' appears instantaneously after Daniel sends his one-worded response, but there is no '...' to follow it just yet. Rather, the 'Unknown Number', the sender of the initial text, allows the word to ruminate. Allows it to soak in, allows himself to properly feel it wherein he may have otherwise scoffed or sent back a quickly typed out quip or joke to ease the truth of the word. The word is personal, genuine, and it lands somewhere so profoundly deep within him that it feels as if he were listening in on a dying man's confessional. Perhaps he was... Less than 30 seconds later that blessed '...' appears, and a moment later the first of two responses appears within the message thread. Unknown Number:Oui? Loneliness? Is that all that you see? The solitary confines of another night spent on the sofa gazing into that moving picture box they call television? Oh, ma belle petite journaliste… There was a pause then, wherein the '…' to signify that someone was typing vanished momentarily only to reappear a few seconds later, as if he were attempting to determine precisely what he might say, or perhaps the phrasing of it. And then the next message came through, the five words appearing on the screen with such a weight and meaning that they seemed to glow a bit more brightly than the others. Unknown Number: Perhaps you should look again. This time, as Daniel Molloy would gaze out into the glistening, humid City streets from those glass balcony doors, there would be a man standing across the street, lithe form lent up against a lamppost, clad in a black suit and jacket, blonde hair loose and fluttering gently in the breeze. The moment their eyes met, he would smile, just a little bit. Just enough to let Daniel know he was there with intent.

[lenfentisms]

@strxgxi // operation get all the smooches

They had just been talking about Auvergne and the only way Nicolas would even talk to him about anything of significance was if he was allowed to play with Daniel's old tape recorder. The click, click,click of the mechanical buttons pleased him, he liked the noise the machine made when the cassette rewound. More of a fidget toy than a recording device as Daniel used his laptop. What choice did the journalist have but to put up with the noise of Nicolas playing with his cassette recorder or not have the vampire speak at all. Nicolas was like that. He promised to meet him but said nothing from time to time finding Daniel's prying intimidating. Only three weeks ago when Daniel wanted to show him the cassette recorder just for reference did he finally get a hint of how to get Nicolas to open up.

"...I was told to befriend the local aristocracy by my father who admired the titled gentry" Nicolas had been highly educated in the romantic languages, mathematics, learned the trade of a draper as a child under his father and sent to Paris to study law. Just as he was talking about Auvergne his wrists started to bleed again, drip drip drip and yet nothing could have disarmed Nicolas more than Daniel's gentleness when he grabbed the hand towels from the kitchenette in this short term rental that Nicolas certainly was not paying for and held them against his wrist.

"..." Do you know what is it like to be so touch starved that the sheer feeling of another person's warm touch made your body shiver registering as a threat. The act of gentle care disarmed him as he stood there frozen with his wrists in Daniel's hands. "Merci." for a moment the thought of Daniel's warm touch leaving him seemed dreadful.

A monster feeling vulnerable by him, that was quite the talent and in a moment of impulsivity. He moved slowly, it was not completely obvious what he was about to do but it would give Daniel time to avoid it if he wished but if not he'd kiss his cheek. "I do not want you to stop holding me...is that not strange? Perhaps it was your charm that coaxed Louis du lack of information-" he was so proud of that one "...to break all our laws just to impress you"

[silverwoodcursed]

fun times at the theatre with @strxgxi - continued from here.

When the dhampir came to Paris it wasn’t anything less than sensory overload. He had travelled the world ever since he had abandoned his Father’s ruined castle, but this city was truly different than anything he had seen before. Everything seemed to be excess, everything was loud and bright and Alucard was truly blessed that he got to see both sides of this wondrous place. He was only a half-vampire, and even though the sun could feel uncomfortable on his pale skin, the light did not burn it the way it does to full blood vampires. During the day he could walk and explore every corner of the city, strolling the streets and visiting shops to gather the appropriate attire, but there was one place that immediately caught his attention.

The Théâtre des Vampires. It could not really be what Alucard imagined it to be, could it? But when he one evening attended a play, his golden eyes widened slightly as he realized that truly, these actors were vampires. They did not hide what they were, not exactly. Live feedings on stage, disguising it as wondrous plays. Alucard listened to the handsome pale man with his equally pale hair, he listened to his wonderfully smooth voice.

“Do you know what it means to be loved by Death? No pain.”

And then he watched the actor sink his fangs into the skin of his poor victim. Alucard stared both in wonder and horror, then, when the scent of blood reached him, he could feel his own throat burn. When was the last time he had fed? He couldn’t recall, he was still so insisting with his self-punishment, refusing to feed on the people he so desperately wanted to love him, knowing damn well they wouldn’t. They couldn’t.

After the play had ended Alucard remained behind after the rest of the crowd had left the theatre, he watched some of the actors.. no, vampires, start cleaning the stage, but they did not send him away. They had to know what he was, just as he in turn knew what they were. A whole theatre of vampires. It was as fascinating as it was appalling. The woman on stage had been terrified, Alucard had sensed her fear, almost tasted it while the crowd had continued to cheer. He was so hungry.

With all the courage he could muster he asked about the one vampire he wanted to see. Wanted to meet. He was surprised when he was actually brought backstage, but when he finally met the vampire, he was so much more than he had been in the play. The voice that reached him drew him closer, it was almost like he was hypnotized when he stepped closer. There were so many things he wanted to ask, about this vampire, about the theatre, about the poor woman they had murdered on stage. But everything seemed forgotten when the vampire tore open his wrist, letting his blood spill forward before offering it so freely. Could he see Alucard was famished? He swallowed hard and stared at the blood, his throat ached and he tried to resist, he really did, but then he could hear the other vampire’s cooing voice in his mind and Alucard did not have the strength to fight any longer.

The dhampir leaned forward, slender fingers wrapping around the bloodied wrist to lift it to his mouth. First, his tongue lapped at the blood that dropped from the wrist, it traced over the forearm, up and up to where he could feel the pulse against the tip of his tongue, and then it was his turn to sink his fangs into the soft skin.

Alucard groaned in pleasure as the warm blood filled his mouth and he started to drink eagerly, only just now realizing how badly he had starved himself this time. And a vampire’s blood was so much more nurturing, but also.. so much more addicting.

He did not want to stop, he wanted to drink until he passed out, so when he felt the vampire slightly pull away, Alucard growled quietly, in warning, and he cornered this vampire against the nearest wall, not yet willing to let go of his wrist.

[avastyetwats]

Continued from here. @strxgxi

Whatever the hell that noise he just made was, it made Fet... feel something. Was it a growl? A purr? Goddamn, it made him shiver something fierce. And yeah, made him blush, too. This little shit. "You know what? I was going to say that, yeah I am concerned, only because I don't want you starvin' out there and I was going to offer you some of this bomb-ass chicken noodle soup if you did have a liking for human food," he pulled out one of the many cans he managed to scrounge up and tossed it up in the air before catching it, showing off a little. "But I change my mind. You don't deserve this deliciousness in a can." He tossed it up and caught it again before pointing at Quinlan with his index finger. "You're missin' out. But hey, enjoy your usual boring blood meal, eh? Same flavor all the time." He grinned, more than capable of being a little shit in return. It was their norm now and something Fet thoroughly enjoyed.

[brightreporterwithapointofview]

@strxgxi continued from here

You would think that perhaps Daniel would have been used to Armand appearing out of nowhere by now. Be expecting it around every corner. But that was the thing- he could never predict when or where. There was no timeline, no standard pattern. Armand was chaotic in his hunt, and Daniel had no choice but to let down his guard. Made it all the more thrilling when his lover at last revealed himself.

Daniel looked down at the scarf for a moment, fingering it absent-mindedly as he did so. It was the kind of action that made his heart ache. Made him think that perhaps this chase around the world was more than obsession, more than a thrilling game. But then he'd shake himself out of that line of thinking- what they had was enough.

"Don't tell me you're worried about me, boss," Daniel teased, looking up from the fringes of the scarf and into Armand's eyes. Those penetrating, ethereal eyes that never failed to capture Daniel's fascination.

"Not high tonight," he added, stepping closer so their bodies were nearly flush against each other. He always missed Armand's touch, but he forgot just how much he truly craved it until he they were reunited. "But now you're here...I could be. You're a better drug than anything Prague has to offer." Daniel wouldn't beg for the blood...not yet, at least. He would rather Armand offer it freely. Letting it drip into Daniel's mouth as he stared down at him, perhaps a hand in his hair or fangs nipping his skin. The very idea of it made Daniel's mouth moist.

[beautifulsavagegarden]

Continued from here with @strxgxi

Armand had rested easily that day, not a feat that was achieved with as much regularity as it should have been. The presence of another body with him probably helped. For all of his cattiness and harshness, Santiago was his choice of companion for that time, and Armand relished his presence beside him. Santiago was never going to be a great love of Armand's existence but he fulfilled a purpose and was a highly skilled actor and lover and that pleased Armand. It pleased him enough that he had decided that they would have somewhat of a lazy 'morning' together. Santiago knew their evening show and his role inside and out and Armand's new production wasn't due to debut until Christmas. They had time.

"So, the diva has awoken and what does he crave this evening hmm?" Armand's reply carried the same quality to it that a cat would exhibit when it purred, enjoying the feeling of Santagio's hands in his hair. His lips twitched upwards into a self satisfied smile at the compliment that Santiago had shared with him in that most intimate of ways for vampires. He did not need to know that Armand had complicated feelings on that buried beneath the surface. After all, they were only fucking. This was a Master playing with his favoured pet and nothing more than that. It would never be anything more than that.

"Ah, to worship, yes, I think that's what he wants." Armand allowed Santiago to kiss his fingers, his hand skating up Santiago's back and the gripping the loose strands of his hair tightly. Santiago tended to fashion his hair in a particular way that Armand disliked generally. It was different when they were in the safety and relative privacy of the coffin, when the rest of the troupe were busy doing their own things and not paying any attention unless they were bid to do so by their Maitre.

[lenfentisms]

@strxgxi // continued

A vampire that was burned could always return back to life if enough strong vampiric blood was poured upon his ashes, that is why if you burned one to death you ought to scatter the ashes. The spirit of Amel was resilient and made to endure...yet who ever the vampire that bled on Nicolas' ashes wished to bring back, it certainly had not been him! A mystery to uncover for sure. It took him the better part of a century to be presentable, he had stolen a mortal's hands and sewn them on his stumps less than four months ago, tonight the first chair of the Paris Symphonic would take an impromptu swim into the river and Nicolas would admire his new hands, talented hands that suited him much better and had just been considering dinner when his attention was drawn.

Unruly youths fought back too much, he only came closer for whomever was on the floor to see none other but him. What was that book? Hate And Ashbury, that was the one. You tended to do a lot of reading when you had to live in hiding as a charred cadaver. Huh. Choices. Let them soften up his dinner or- well it would be a shame to have such a sharp mind meet his demise in the streets of Paris...and the commotion drew too much attention anyway.

He intervened and it was a blink and you missed it motion but then he had to cover his tracks, fast he moved and snatched a locked bicycle placing it right there. Yes, he was a cyclist passing by that stopped, why not.

"Est-ce que ça va? (are you okay)" he asked and offered him a gloved hand, noticing that his wrist was bleeding from his impromptu little upgrade. "Ellinika? Español? English?" Oh, great his worst spoken language. "Are you alright?" he asked with a very thick accent and then pretended to strain to help him up. "You are Daniel Molloy! Your book Hate and Ashbury...it was one of my favorites. I am somewhat combating addiction myself" Not a lie. He looked at his bleeding wrist and used the napkin from Daniel's table to press against it.

"Fléau miniatures (miniature plagues)" he cussed. "Little shits. Is your head alright? It looked like you took quite the tumble, monsieur Molloy." Whether Daniel liked it or not Nicolas pulled his chair to help him sit and too many keen eyes now on them. "

"Auriez‑vous l’amabilité de lui apporter un peu d’eau ?" he asked the waiter for some water for Daniel. Not that Daniel spoke enough French to notice how formal Nicolas spoke as if from another era.Far too formal for a little street in Paris.

"Do you mind if I sit?" he asked gesturing to the chair opposite him.