❛ He was always adamant about not spreading the Dark Gift around. Claimed it was too hellish and cruel! Savage, too, in some ways. He always had a way with words of his own, special brand of cruelty. Pointless whining, really. Why not share what we have been given? ❜ He was rambling, he knew. One finely tipped nail drew itself across the outline of his lips, the warmth of his last kill still FRESH upon his tongue. Those golden and ethereal waves of flaxen hair sat nestled against his face, porcelain and ageless. Oh, Lestat. You sound so desperate in your ranting and raving. Here lies the very creature made by Louis himself and the only thing you think to do is go on about him and his flawed philosophy! Martyr, merciful death! But it would not have happened without little Claudia. It made his mood sour further, the thought. ❛ She would have been the one to convince him. Always... anyway, here you are. ❜