perfectdevil | the city: inbox

[ It's almost staggering how easily her thoughts come to him. It's been too long to assume her blood is still in his system - or perhaps it is, he doesn't exactly have a way to expel it, perhaps the blood of everyone he's ever taken still exists within him now, ready to be called upon when near it's original owner - but like this it's easy to believe they are inexplicably connected by that one moment of the vampire's kiss with no hope for reprieve.

He doesn't care too much that she doesn't answer him, assuming she just rolled her eyes and is saving the quip for the moment she sees him, instead. He tries to be casual about his approach, so he's not immediately creepy because even someone as caught up in their own smog cloud as he is, can tell when he's teetering on the edge of it, but he fails miserably when he finds that the first alcohol store his instincts have led him to is the one she has also picked for her nighttime run.

Her loneliness calls to him like a scent in the air, his senses tuned into it with a keen kind of familiarity. But he'll be wise this time not to draw too much attention to it, lest their interaction end up like it did the last time. Lestat may be a trouble maker, but he isn't one to under appreciate a second chance on the rare occasion he's offered one.

Once in the store, he decides to follow her suit and keep this nonchalant, browsing the bottles as if he's looking for something of his own, right up until the moment they inevitably meet on the same aisle. ]

Hey, did you see any gin over there, or is it--

[ Johanna rounds the corner and stops, blinking at Lestat in surprise. ]

Oh. Er.

[ Beat. ]

Hang on, you don't drink, what're you doing here?

[ His smile is expectant, pleasant, a little excitable when he finally senses her heartbeat move closer and finally sees her come into view out of the corner of his eye.

When she speaks, he's only a little taken aback - he was an actor once, and he's fine with improvisation... he just didn't expect hers to be so good, and her surprise to see him here be so believable. ]

I was thinking about picking something up to keep around the house. For guests, you know. I'd hate to be an inconsiderate host.

[ A light, airy shrug. His focus doesn't leave her for a second. ]

And what brings you here? The same? Expecting company?

What, here? Sort of--

[ Enjoy the sight of Constantine genuinely flustered, Lestat. Few have seen it and lived to tell the tale. ]

I -- was expecting a different vampire, actually.

[ At that, of course, his eyes narrow and his playful little demeanour goes cold. The message had certainly been for him, even if she hadn't replied.. unless..

He gets out his phone as if to double-check, but he knows exactly what he saw, so he quickly turns it her way to show her his unanswered message. ]

It seems we were both expecting something different of this meeting, chérie.

--What? [ She stares at his phone, and then grabs for her own to look at it. ]

Oh, Christ. How did I ...

[ Part of her wants to figure out some way that the City is to blame for this, but no. It's just good old Constantine luck, she's pretty sure. She's always been aware of synchronicity, and this seems like a classic example.

Hang on. She peers at Lestat's last message again, and gives him a narrow look in return. ]

Were you hoping for a drink drink?

[ He wants to roll his eyes at that, and as he plucks the phone from her hands with a strong little tug he realises that there's no reason why he shouldn't, so he does.

He even goes so far as to fold his arms once the phone is back in his pocket, and the look on his face is indignant but.. there's something softer to the edges of it, something like embarrassment or hurt maybe. Something that certainly doesn't belong on the face of the cold Vampire Lestat. ]

Oh, mon Dieu, it was a joke. I can go weeks without feeding, you know, I'm not some rabid animal.

Well, don't quit your day job.

[ The initial surprise is wearing off, and a much more familiar "I have rubbed someone the wrong way" vibe is in the air. Johanna puts her own phone away slowly, to give herself a moment to collect that feeling of prickliness and layer it over whatever else she's feeling.

Which is, for the most part, embarrassment of her own. She knows she reacted poorly at Louis' party, and she's more or less been hoping to do like she always does and avoid dealing with the situation ever again. Might have made things a trifle awkward with Louis, but they're not so close that that would be a huge obstacle.

But here they are, she supposes. And while she could just grab whatever cheap vodka is left on the shelves and leave ... if something brought them together here, she should probably find out why, however reluctantly. ]

If you didn't think I was sending out another booty call, what were you expecting?

[ Lestat looks at the alcohol bottles to his side as if he can create the distraction of being distracted by inspecting their labels, but it doesn't stick and is also entirely unbelievable. Like she'd said, he doesn't drink.

He looks back at her, his arms folded but his expression falling quite short of anything hard. In fact he looks a little like a child trying to be brave about their stomach aching; a little twisted up, a little uncertain, a little like they want comfort and a little annoyed that the world should be so cruel to them when they are just out here trying their best. ]

Honestly, I thought you were intending to wipe the slate clean. Forget all about it, all of it.

[ Not only their argument, but their first meeting, too. Perhaps it would be easier for them both that way. ]

... Really?

[ That look of -- what is it, hurt? It's not what she expected from the rock star, swinging dick persona. ]

And what, have a brand new meet-cute?

[ Her tone is softer than her words would suggest. ]

Where I don't notice you're a vampire, and you don't know about Ravenscar?

Easier for the both of us, don't you think?

[ Lestat doesn't necessarily have anything against people knowing what he is, honestly he couldn't care less unless the knowledge were to bring harm to him and his brothers in the blood, but the way she had looked at him as though he'd done her some great injustice is sticking in his brain. He won't apologise for it, his pride won't let him. But at the same time, he can't help but want to repair this rift.

Forgetting it altogether seems the best idea, since she'd rebuffed his tenderness entirely at Louis' party. But then, perhaps that was his own fault for showing any emotion in the first place. He reigns his expression in to something sullen, the child now resentful after being told off, and he tries not to notice the softness in her voice. ]

I barely remember what I saw now, anyway. The benefit of being as old as I am is that you only have room in your mind for so many things.

[ He lied, lyingly. ]

Oh, really. What happened to wanting it all?

[ She lifts her chin a little higher, deliberately exposing her throat. ]

Right down to the last heartbeat?

[ He settles her with a strange expression; the cogs clearly working in his head at double time to try and figure out if this is a play, if she's trying to coax him into something despite her initial look of derision at him teasing this as some kind of blood-based booty call, or if she's simply trying to figure out if he'd been lashing out more than he needed to in their last conversation at Louis' birthday party. Both could be entirely true and possible at the same time, hence why Lestat's face has got a little screwed up in his thought process. ]

Oh I do, chérie, every last drop. But that isn't the kind of drink you're looking for, now, is it?

[ It's mostly the latter, but there's no small amount of the former. She hasn't forgotten what the bite felt like, even though she'd struggle to articulate the feeling. How could she not want that again, with some part of her? People must get addicted to it if they're not careful.

She watches him think, and then snorts softly. ]

It's not what I came here for, no.

[ Dropping her chin, she looks over to the liquor and grabs a bottle of bourbon -- a brand she's never heard of, like most of the stuff here, but the typeface on the label makes her suspect it's cheap -- and twists off the cap. ]

I'm saying, I don't think you can have it both ways, can you? A clean slate and a taste of everything. Fuck, I don't think we get a clean slate at all. Not in this place, that's clear enough.

[ She toasts him with the bottle and takes a swig straight from it, making eye contact the whole time. ]

Do you really not remember?

[ His eyes move to watch her take the bottle without a single twitch of movement from the rest of his body. He can't resist following the path of her swallow, the way her throat contracts and twitches. Of course he hasn't forgotten it, how could he? That would mean forgetting the bite, how her blood had tasted against his tongue, the way she'd clung to him even as awareness slipped from her consciousness. ]

No. I was lying. I thought you might prefer it that way. It obviously has a greater impact on you than I could ever understand, but I won't look away from it or force myself to forget it just because of that.

[ Not only has he not forgotten a single second of their time together, but his recent run in with Reno has made him painfully aware of the human attraction side to all this, too. The bite is still, unequivocally, better than any kind of human coupling… but the lack of build up, of tension, of even the slightest ghost of the human ritual, was that disappointing for her?

Hell, is he actually embarrassed that he might be an unsatisfying lover??? He physically cringes a bit without meaning to. ]

I would have tried, but perhaps you are right and an entirely blank slate is impossible. Then what would you suggest we do? Are we to stick to clandestine meetings between aisles of alcohol whenever you send a message to the wrong vampire?

[ Part of her would prefer that they could both pretend he didn't know. She still doesn't even know what he knows. Armand said it was like skimming a book; maybe all Lestat saw was two years missing from her life and the name of the place that took it. Maybe he saw the inside of the room they kept her in when the other inmates wouldn't leave her alone, or the depressing office where they tried to diagnose her. Maybe he just saw those grippy socks they give you. She liked the socks.

Maybe. Probably not. Probably he wouldn't say "Ravenscar" like he knew what it meant to her if all he saw was the socks.

So what's she to do with him, with his arrogant posture and his hurt eyes?

In spite of herself, Johanna laughs. ]

Christ, what a sentence. Never thought I'd know enough vampires to text the wrong one.

Hell if I know, Monsieur Lestat. I suppose if we're being honest ... [ She grimaces and takes another swig of the bourbon. Honesty. Gross. Why. ]

If all you wanted was to dine and dash, I wish you'd told me what I was getting into, all right? I thought I was getting a fuck with some biting, not having my mind read and getting dumped on the couch without so much as a by-your-leave.

[ Lestat shifts his weight from one foot to the other, the various chains hanging from his belt and his throat tinkling faintly as he does; it's such a strangely human gesture because vampires, as a rule, don't really fidget… which goes to show exactly how out of his comfort zone this entire discussion is.

Usually Lestat loves being told off, but this is less that and more being told he's been disappointing, which is a thousand times worse and not in any of the good ways. Where normally he takes criticism with fiery defensiveness, in the face of this he knows all too well that she's right. It's becoming a trend that all his criticisms end up too true for him to deny them as of late. ]

Tch. It's so much more difficult to do this face-to-face than it is writing or reading a book about it. [ He brings one of his hands up to his brow, pressing his fingers in over his temple. ] Alright, fine. If we're being honest.

[ Hands in his pockets now, trying to tame his fiddling at the very least, so he focuses on her instead. ]

I don't do this very often, this talking afterwards. I'm sure you can imagine why. I had no intention of ever seeing you again. I know it's a small community here, but I thought you wouldn't be interested in seeking out one who 'dined and dashed', as you put it, and that I wouldn't have to try very hard to ignore you. I thought I'd see something beautifully mundane and exhilaratingly typical in your head, the same as I do with most mortals, but I didn't. I thought I wouldn't care.

[ The rest goes unsaid: but I do. He looks at her for a moment, inhales, and then pushes it back out his nose as if steadying himself. When he speaks, his voice is oddly stable, as though he's choosing his words carefully. ]

Not only that, but I thought, until recently, that the bite was all I had in my disposal, as a vampire.

[ That look of discomfort at having to talk to this out is so familiar that she actually starts to offer him the bourbon before remembering he can't drink it. He rather looks like he could use it.

She certainly does, as he speaks. There's a squirmy feeling of both embarrassment and amused fellow feeling when he says he'd intended to just ignore her. It's that unspoken part, though, that's both loud enough and startling enough to derail her for a moment. ]

Well -- I thought we'd be able to ignore each other, too. Didn't plan for you being involved with someone I already knew, that's for sure. [ She huffs. ] 's like fucking around with punks all over again.

[ GOD, the sexual dramas of '00s London nightclubs. ]

What do you mean, "all you had in--" Wait, what do you mean?

[ is he talking about his dick lestat are you talking about your dick ]

[ Lestat squints a little at the mention of Louis, confusion evident on his face because he cannot comprehend even slightly why she keeps bringing him up, why she was so apparently concerned with them being a thing, why she asked him about his type. He, somehow, can't understand how all these things correlate, but luckily he doesn't have much time to push the issue, because then she continues to talk and asks for clarification and... God, this really would be so much easier if he were to just write it down. Then at least he could think about what to say instead of just standing here, staring at her with this stupid expression on his face. ]

I am undead. There are parts of my body that don't respond the same way they would in a human.

[ Yes, he's talking about his dick. ]

All of my closest connections are vampires, and we don't feel any sexual urges by instinct; drinking blood makes everything else pale in contrast. I didn't even think about your perspective. I thought, why would you care for anything less than the euphoria I can give to you with the bite?

[ He looks like he's twisting something over in his mind, and there's even the very slightest pinkish tint creeping into his face from his jaw and ears. He lifts a hand to tink tink his nail against the glass of a nearby frosted bottle. So much for not fidgeting. ]

I have recently been.. enlightened. To how misled I may have been.

... Do you think -- did you think you couldn't get me off because you don't get hard?

[ She's staring at him, incredulous, which undoubtedly helps with the awkwardness. ]

Mate, how do you think those of us without cocks do it?

[ Her vague annoyance and confusion that he hadn't even had the good manners to fingerbang her had been low priority, compared to the feeling of having her privacy invaded, but it is rapidly moving up to top priority, with roast this man mercilessly for the rest of time hot on its heels. ]

[ Lestat feels something much like petulant, childish embarrassment creep up his spine, to the point where he actually ducks into his shoulders a little. It isn't that he doesn't know about foreplay, he does, he was just much too young and much too inexperienced and probably brought up in the wrong set of circumstances to really appreciate its worth when he was alive, and after the fact he had a complete lack of instinct for it, and older vampires telling him that certain carnal desires were beneath them, so how the heeeeelll was he supposed to know.

Vampirism does not come with a manual. If it did, maybe he and Louis wouldn't have done so badly in those first sixty years. ]

I don't know??

[ Okay, maybe he's a little irritable, his face a little more pink. It's very embarrassing to be a 200-year-old sexy rock and roll vampire but admit you're quite in over your head when it comes to the song and dance of lovemaking. He's even less experienced when it comes to women. Oof, his ego. ]

It's not that I can't get hard, that has nothing to do with it! With the right circumstances, I can, I just didn't think there was a point! The bite is better, I didn't see any reason to wait, I didn't know how- [ He swallows, the bottle he'd been clicking his finger against is now straining under the intensity of one glass-like nail boring down onto it, so he retracts his hand. ] -how the build up could feel. I didn't think it would be such a big deal that I left the way I did, if you got something better than mortal sex out of it. But I don't even understand that comparison anymore.

[ Helping absolutely nothing, Johanna starts to giggle. ]

I'm sorry -- oh, fuckin' hell, sorry, but -- you're how old? Listen, you're not wrong about the bite, but--

[ Okay maybe he'll feel better if he throws something, maybe a bottle at the wall-- Nope. No, no, he's not going to actually turn into a child and start throwing shit all over the place. Even if he really, really, really wants to.

He withstands her laughing for a second or two longer than expected for his short temper, and then goes to storm past her, definitely sulking. ]

Ça suffit! I'm not standing here for you to get putrified on cheap booze and laugh at me!

Oh, come on, now, listen.

[ She reaches to catch his sleeve before she can think about whether it's a bad idea to touch a pissed-off vampire. ]

Least you can do to make it up to me is let me enjoy this, eh? Listen, you let me have this and I'll tell you about vibrators, if you want.

[ Her hand catches on his sleeve and he stops. If Lestat were genuinely furious he might have torn it from her grasp and stormed off anyway, but his bruised little ego is desperate for reconciliation, so here he is.

At her offer, though, he squints his eyes in confused suspicion before he can really think to react in any other way. ]

And these vibrators are something I'll want to know about?

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cw for some discussion of institutionalization

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