perfectdevil | the city: inbox

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?

Do you want to get people off? Repeatedly? Before the bite? Or during.

[ The thought of her last encounter with Reno drifts through Johanna's mind -- writhing in pleasant agony as he made her come again and again on the couch -- bringing with it a warm flush that she can't hide behind the defensive cloud in her mind. Damn, Reno is fun.

And a moment later comes the thought of what Armand said about tasting food through his mortal companions. She could show Lestat the kind of thing a halfway decent bullet can do. Let alone a wall-powered wand.

Maybe. Not just yet. Making a fuss about him looking without permission and then turning around and inviting him in for an actual peep show seems a little fast. ]

[ Lestat stands in mute silence as he thinks on his answer. It probably only looks slightly unnerving because he just, doesn't move for a bit. It's kind of like the moment before a toddler decides if it's about to start bawling over something totally inconsequential; very tense and everyone in the room hoping there are no tears.

Obtusely, yes, he does; just one little moment of consideration has opened up something that is fast snowballing into many other things that he doesn't have the appropriate facilities nor knowledge to actually explore. But at the same time there are a lot of vampire related hang-ups and uncertainties and general instinctive reluctance making him feel the urge to double back on his fervour. He's just... too hedonistic to actually double back. ]

Yes. [ He says, then exhales sharply through his nose, folding his arms as though he's preparing himself for her to laugh at him about this, too. ] Both. Maybe even after.

[ He's got the good sense to look guilty when he brings it up, at least. ]

Well, long as they're conscious. Or you've established they're into that, I suppose.

[ With most of the horny people she knows, she would take "somnophilia requires prior consent" as read, but we're starting from first principles, APPARENTLY. ]

What have you actually done with people before? I mean, have you gone down on anyone? Men? They're easier. God, I have so many questions, I don't know where to even start.

[ Lestat gives her a long, loooong look. He taps his foot on the ground a couple of times, then unfolds his arms and starts to move. For a split second it looks like he's just about to walk out on her, but then he calls over his shoulder: ]

No, no, I'm not doing this standing in the aisles of a liqor store. We'll find somewhere to go with a shred more dignity if I'm to lose all mine telling you this.

Sex isn't dignified! Lesson one!

[ She follows, amused. From her perspective her evening is improving. She has booze and the upper hand! ]

I can tell you about the first time I ate out a girl and got a black eye because she kneed me in the face, if it'll help.

I know that already, nothing about your human rutting is dignified-- [ That's probably most of the reason he's so embarrassed by it... That, and the fact that the whole rock star persona doesn't really match up with a guy who's slept with two people and can't recall many of the mechanics save what he's read in literature. ] -- but I'm still not-

[ Okay, he's laughing a little bit. He lets out an exasperated sigh; at himself, at her, who's to say. ]

Alright, je comprends. Lesson one, no dignity.

[ He pushes them out of the liquor store, and his eyes alight on a dimly lit little coffee spot across the road that looks blissfully uninhabited. Once they're seated inside, somewhere near the back, Lestat folds his legs to the side and rests his elbow on the arm of the chair. ]

My first encounter in sex was with a woman, it was one night, and I don't remember her name. She was considerably older than me and we did not have much time for lessons, or even for the act itself. We were both quite drunk.

[ He isn't fidgeting as much now, which is... an improvement? But he still looks like he's sitting on a bomb. ]

My second encounter was my last. My lover before I was turned. He was the son of a draper in the village my Father was responsible for. We became friends, we ran away to Paris together, we loved each other. But our encounters were fast and usually, again, we were both very drunk. In those times, unless you were in a brothel, any kind of coupling was for warmth rather than anything else.

Does that answer some questions?

[ Johanna steals a coffee mug from behind the counter when they come in, and when they're settled at a table she pours herself a few fingers of bourbon so she can stop swigging straight from the bottle.

There's something very surreal about sitting in an empty coffee shop, in an empty city, in the middle of the night, listening to a man talk about losing his virginity some hundreds of years ago. Not where she expected herself to be six months ago. Not even where she expected herself to be sixty minutes ago. ]

Sort of.

[ Including several she wouldn't have thought to ask. What his position was when he was mortal; where he lived; who he loved. ]

And after that it was always just feeding? But I can't be the first mortal you ever met up with under false pretenses. And you can't have been opening with kinks like bloodplay in the 1950s or what have you. Nobody ever wanted to go down on you? Or wanted you to go down on them?

[ He watches her pour and swig the drink like a man might watch the television. He's using it as a buffer to not get too fidgety, and it's working to a point. It's.. strangely nice to talk about Nicki without feeling some abysmal self-hatred over what happened to him. It's easier to think of the nicer times, the more pleasant things, with him. ]

It was always the feeding. When I was still a relatively new fledgling, I was told that such carnal desires are beneath me by a vampire much older than I am. Since we don't feel arousal by instinct and the only mirror for those feelings is bloodlust, I believed him. It's as simple as that.

[ In retrospect, once he learned about Marius' specific manner perhaps he should have considered that Marius was talking from atop his high-horse about his perspective rather than about vampire law, but oh well. ]

As for other mortals, I'm afraid that all of them have been my victims. I don't keep pets or human companions like some other vampires do. Every woman I brought to my bed certainly thought I intended to ravish them, but they died with that thought on their mind. There wasn't much time nor opportunity for anyone to - 'go down' - on anyone. If they showed interest, I showed them a firm hand. If they guided me there, I drained them from the vein in their thigh.

[ He watches her face now, carefully. This isn't a nice story, after all, but for a long while there he wasn't exactly a nice creature. And the jury's still out on whether he is now. ]

When I came back to the world in the 1980s, I saw and felt that the world had gone through a sexual awakening; people were much more vocal and varied with their desires. Girls threw themselves at me, often with their shirts torn open, lust was prevalent. But when you live for two hundred years assuming that you neither want nor need stimulation, that there is only the lust for blood... It's a habit that's hard to kick.

--Died?

[ That gives her a jolt. Not just the one he probably expects -- namely, the idea that she may have been playing much closer to the edge than she thought.

('Hey, I'm trusting you with something', 'Yeah, I don't care. Remember when you murdered someone?' The sarcasm in Wrench's voice, buzzing through his mask, still makes her hot with shame when she remembers it. Why else would you bring it up, man?)

Maybe she was wrong about the connection around here being brushes with immortality, or with gods. Maybe everyone here has killed someone -- even if, in her case, it was always through negligence and failure instead of getting her own hands dirty.

Hey, here's an idea, what if she drank more and didn't think about any of that and focused on playing sex therapist to this guy? ]

When'd you start leaving them alive?

[ Or not. Cool. ]

I didn't.

[ He takes that arm off the arm of the couch and folds it against his chest, looking at her with a very plain but calculated expression. This suddenly doesn't feel as light-hearted as it did before; suddenly he feels like he's giving her the risk of another cruel awakening, like when he'd watched the last sliver of empathy disappear from her face in the garden at the bistro, as she realises what kind of monster she's been talking to. ]

Or at least, I didn't stop with any great decision or epiphany. If I couldn't find an evildoer to slate my hunger, perhaps I'd take a little drink from someone I could enchant so that they never knew I'd been there at all, and leave them to a blissful nights sleep none the wiser.

And, as time moved on, it got harder and harder to easily get rid of the remains after each kill. A death on a street corner was something and nothing when I was a fledgling. Now, everyone has a name and a fingerprint and an autopsy report. Sometimes, leaving a victim alive is the safest option.

[ The way Louis kept insisting that he and his kind are dangers to everyone around them makes a lot more sense, now. Sure, she'd been a little bit weak for a couple days. But that had been expected; she had a lot of sex in ~~simultaneous timelines~~ a short amount of time, including with two vampires. She'd figured the restraint both Lestat and Armand showed with her was typical. ]

You're not tame lions, are you. [ It's quiet, not accusatory. She's just -- evaluating. ]

[ He exhales a slow breath, then recrosses his legs. ]

No, chérie. We are predators, from our brains to our marrow. It's who we are, what we are made for.

[ He looks around, at the empty bar. It would be so easy, for example, to take her blood right here and not a single person would reach out to help her. He could take her past the point of the end, suffer the consequences and do it again the next day, or the day after that.

But he won't. He doesn't want to. Why is that? ]

Yet, in a place like this, where we are truly living amongst your kind rather than simply pretending that it's possible, it feels much easier to believe that we are tame.

[ Johanna nods slowly, tapping her fingers on the mug of bourbon. ]

Easier for you or easier for us?

[ He shrugs one shoulder. ]

Both, I think.

People are much too trusting of us here, but in turn it gives us more of an opportunity to know you.. and by then we're practically adverse to killing you. And there's the punishments to consider, too, I suppose.

[ Dry: ] "Practically."

[ Also, see how kindly she is not bringing up seeing him handcuffed to Kaveh on the livestream! ]

Well, there's other benefits to restraint, too. [ She gestures vaguely with her mug. ] To the original point of this whole thing. Can't very well make someone orgasm when they're dead.

[ He chuckles at that and nods his head as if to say I'll give you that one. ]

I won't apologise for what I am and what I have to do to survive, just the same as I won't pander to this place that thinks I need only the substance itself to feel satisfied and fed. I am vampire, not a dog begging for a bone. You'll get more guilt from Louis than you will from me.

But you are right. While there are plenty of reasons to keep this community as large and healthy as it can be, I'm discovering new reasons to treasure it every day.

[ Like orgasms. :') ]

[ She considers pointing out that clearly, vampires don't have to kill to survive. But she thinks about eating a steak and what a cow might say to her about what she has to do.

It's not the same. It's enough to keep her quiet on the subject for the moment, though. ]

What did enlighten you to what you've been missing, anyway? I mean, the fact of it is, you're a good kisser, and you're smart enough to know the knee thing. You know something about making it enjoyable without using your teeth.

Of course. I've had sex, I understand that certain touches bring about certain feelings. I didn't forget that in my turning.

[ He's not frustrated, exactly, more quietly annoyed that the distinction isn't more obvious. Vampire biology just simply isn't something that easily makes sense to humans, clearly. ]

I haven't bothered before to explore that experience with mortals because all I could think of was the bite. And as you know all too well, chérie, I am a selfish creature.

[ If he can't be a sexy rock star, he can at least really drive it home that he's an evil thing born of the night. Soooo edgy. ]

I never considered feeling those sensations myself because I was told that it would be a poor imitation of the drink, but when a human showed me their intention to touch me, what they fantasised about doing to me... it brought to light what I've probably been denying myself of for far too long. And others. Arguably.

[ A very stiff little shrug. ]

[ She tsks. ] Well, now I'm disappointed in myself. Should've groped you more.

[ Clearly it wouldn't have gone anywhere other than it did, but you know. Two can play at being sex gods. ]

Showed you, like--? [ She taps the side of her head. ]

[ He laughs at that because, well, maybe she should have. Of course he knows that he would have restrained her from touching as he did with everyone who tried to get a little too handsy with him, but perhaps if he hadn't he could have been having this epiphany a whole lot earlier. Who knows. ]

I asked him to create images in his head for me, and I watched them, yes. Completely on impulse, but that was apparently all I needed.

[ To the point where even thinking back on them now has him feeling a little dazed. Like a teenager coming into their own. ]

Here's to impulse, then. [ She toasts him with her mug. ]

So what're you fantasizing about, now? What lurid images are keeping Lestat up at -- day?

[ He snorts at that and makes this whole show of getting more comfortable in his chair; tossing his hair back out of his face and folding his arms delicately at the wrists where they rest on his crossed legs. He gives her a look that's too warm to be entirely suspicious, but not soft enough to be amused. ]

Right now?

[ Well, there's plenty he could talk about - everything he'd seen and felt with Reno, the mental pictures conjured in his head when he'd spoken with Louis - but somehow it feels strange to say all that to her. ]

Wouldn't it be odd to hear me talk about your fellow citizens like that?

[ He asks, a slight smile curling his lips. He could always fantasize about her, he supposes. ]

[ She shrugs, amused by the peacocking. For all the '80s glam and glitz, there are these moments where he seems very old-world to her. ]

Well, I don't know, depends if I've fucked them or not, probably.

But I wasn't asking for fantasies about specific people. Unless it's me, I suppose. [ Great -- and dirty -- minds evidently think alike. ] I just meant acts, like. Or feelings. General ideas.

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