[ He thinks of the sight of the Queen falling to dust, her head severed, her thick blood running out across the marble floor. He thinks about the look in her eyes when she'd approached him with the intent to kill him for disobeying her. He thinks about the taste of her blood on his tongue, the fact that he could taste the undeniable proof that she thought he could be useful, that she had in her hands the purpose that he'd always been looking for... that she loved him.
Looking at the pools of water, it's very difficult to mistake them for blood, and so he slips easily from his reverie and back to the present. Back to this strange world that neither of them can call home, and back to the fire that forces them to be honest. ]
... It brought back.. memories. Of a time when I met the Goddess of the Vampires, the Queen of the Damned.
[ He doesn't think he has it in him to say her name, so instead he takes a step back and then another, until he can sit himself back down beside Demyx and push out a long, hollow exhalation from lungs that no longer need breath. ]
I didn't expect it to feel that way. For my heart to... ache, this much.
You met a goddess? It sounds like you two were..... close?
[That's..... kind of impressive, actually. In his admittedly limited experience, the gods tend to be dicks, to be honest. They're hardly ever interested in mortals unless it directly involves their own self-interest, or they could use them as pawns in whatever divine game of chess they're playing with each other..... Yes, he's looking at you, Hades. He's probably also considered the ruler of the damned, and when has he ever inspired that kind of devotion?
He can't imagine anyone staring at Hades with the same sort of mournful yearning Lestat had stared at the water with. What kind of person was this goddess-queen? And what had happened to her, to make Lestat so sad? Is an entity like that really able to die? Have an awkward arm pat, Lestat; even if he did have a heart, he probably still wouldn't be sure how to be comforting, here. This is waaaaay above his paygrade. Read as: he doesn't get paid at all. Help. Hell, it probably still would be even if he was allowed to spout some falsely comforting nonsense.]
[ Lestat can't help but let out a snort at Demyx's comment, but also at his own ridiculous behaviour; he's acting like some pitiful and heartbroken fool in front of him, and isn't that just embarrassing? He isn't even certain how he feels about her in retrospect, given everything that happened to him when he was at her side, and yet here he is looking miserable at being reminded of her?
What happened to the unflappable Vampire Lestat - the one who had lured Demyx into a sense of security so perfect that he could feed from him, the one handsome and confident enough to be an appealing consort to that Goddess in the first place?
We were lovers, is what he means to say, but what comes out is: ] She stole me away in the middle of the night to be her Prince in a new world of her own making.
[ He can feel himself saying the wrong thing, but somehow he can't stop; all he can do is inhale the scent of the fire. Cursed thing. He groans as though frustrated with himself, running a hand back and through his hair. ]
She is gone now, either way. No use mourning what is no more.
[Bro, what the fuck. That. That's just called kidnapping, Lestat. Kidnapping and Stockholm Syndrome. It doesn't matter what kind of crazy romantic promises she made you to try and keep you complacent, Demyx is pretty sure that's just straight up a hostage situation. He's gonna go out on a limb here and say Lestat definitely isn't okay? Yikes.
At least it explains how weirdly compelled Lestat seems by the idea of Maleficent, someone on nearly the same level, able to all but make a world of her own. Were he a year or two older, Demyx might even actually be able to sympathize, to a degree--when Xehanort puts his final plan into motion, and revives him to become one of his vessels in his bid to remake the multiverse to his own liking..... Well, it isn't as though he'll exactly be able to say no, when the time comes. But that's a lifetime away, and hardly so romanticized as it sounds like Lestat's gilded cage must have been.
He may feel compelled to tell the truth, but that doesn't mean he can't tactfully keep his mouth shut so he doesn't cram his foot in there. Even he can manage a little restraint, sometimes. But what else can you even say about something like that? "Sorry for your loss"? He's really not, though. If anything, that was probably a lucky break for Lestat. "Bummer, dude"? Tell Lestat something he doesn't already know. How much worse would this be if he could actually feel how awkward it is?]
I..... guess not? You'll always have the memories, though.
[Unless Lestat's world has a Naminรฉ equivalent of their own, of course. Then it's probably possible to break that chain, for better or worse. Whether those memories are actually worth having or not, though, that's on Lestat to decide.]
[ Lestat's sigh is a weirdly forced sounding thing, as though he's forcing all bad energy from his body with such an exhalation. Demyx isn't wrong in his first impression, that it's kidnapping and that Lestat is deluding himself if he tries to say that his position at Akasha's side was anything other than a power play on her part as she'd used him to connect to the modern world. He's sure he loved her once, but that love soon turned to revulsion as he realised she was everything he was so deathly afraid of becoming.
The last shred of goodness in him had sung out like a dying star, and for his troubles all he got was her looking at him with disappointment and fury, ready to destroy him just for denying her what she decided was rightfully hers.
But admitting to all that makes him a victim, doesn't it? And a victim is the last thing Lestat will ever allow himself to be. He settles on the log a little more, his eyes pinched and focusing in on the fire. He deliberates his answer for a long while, and then the fire seems to pick it for him. ]
Yes, mon ami, her memory will always haunt me.
Edited 2023-10-18 19:04 (UTC)
I couldn't resist >.> /dumps a bucket of Disney over his head
[Silence is fine, if Lestat needs it after his little..... episode. Remembering all that has obviously shaken him up; they don't have to talk, if he's not up for it. But Demyx's fingers do move in the space left by Lestat's musing, improvising a meandering melody that builds on itself as it goes. Gotta do something with himself while the guy has his war flashbacks, huh?
In the end, he only really has one piece of advice to give. How's he coped with his own situation? Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt!]
Yeah, I bet. But hey, hakuna matata, right? She's gone, now; try not to let her get to you too much.
[ Lestat listens to the melody and lets it take him away from here for a moment, to let Demyx's words sink in and to follow the instruction wilfully. As if it's that easy.
Yes, she is gone, and yes Lestat no longer has to worry about the haunted Queen scooping him out of his resting place and spiriting him away to some unknown location to trick him into committing genocide at her side. But she is still with him every day; her blood has changed him so much that sometimes he doesn't recognise himself, and that is something he can't simply forget about.
Akasha had been the first of their kind, the Queen of their race, and her closed mind and cold heart is all that awaits those of his kind who live to reach her age. His soft and diffused beauty will one day fade into something hardened and sharpened by time, and his mind will lose its wonder to the ennui of immortality. It's inevitable, it's inescapable, it's--
Lestat pauses, opening eyes he doesn't remember closing, and frowning slightly. He turns that frown on Demyx. ]
Hakuna matata! It's a little something I picked up on one of my scouting trips.
[Spying trips. Reconnaissance trips. Whatever. It's not specifically spying if he's supposed to just look around and learn whatever he can however he can, right? "Infiltrating" an entire world is a pretty grandiose way to put it, really--just a plausibly deniable way of saying that he's expendable enough to lose in unknown territory, if it comes to that. At least it doesn't have to involve fighting, if he's good enough at it.
The melody turns lighter and brighter, almost bouncy. Now that he thinks about it, this place and the Pridelands are both beautiful, untouched expanses of wilderness, aren't they? The Pridelands just..... didn't prevent him from escaping like this one does. Weird, huh? He wonders what's causing it. Too bad he's not smart enough to figure this sort of thing out on his own.]
It means no worries! The past is in the past, the future is in the future. Let 'em stay where they belong. You can only live right now, dude. That's where you belong.
[ Lestat hasn't heard the phrase before, and he doesn't recognise it in any language he's familiar with - but then his experience is predominantly European languages, and he's pretty certain by now that the lands that make up the world he comes from and the ones that exist in Demyx's world have very little cross over. ]
No worries... [ Lestat muses, tilting his head a little in consideration, easily letting this more light-hearted song wash over him. ] Is that so...
[ He is always so easily taken by music, being an almost rock star himself and having been very recently summoned from death sleep by music it's no surprise that he feels like it speaks to him in a way, so he closes his eyes in the midst of this one. He can feel the notes soothing his twisted soul, reinforcing Demyx's words somewhat, and even if Lestat can't fully let go of what troubles him enough to believe them completely.. he does feel comforted. That much is undeniably true.
He looks to the fire, the flames reflecting back in his eyes, the scent of its strange power still thick in his senses but.. strangely familiar now. He smiles, just a bit. ]
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Looking at the pools of water, it's very difficult to mistake them for blood, and so he slips easily from his reverie and back to the present. Back to this strange world that neither of them can call home, and back to the fire that forces them to be honest. ]
... It brought back.. memories. Of a time when I met the Goddess of the Vampires, the Queen of the Damned.
[ He doesn't think he has it in him to say her name, so instead he takes a step back and then another, until he can sit himself back down beside Demyx and push out a long, hollow exhalation from lungs that no longer need breath. ]
I didn't expect it to feel that way. For my heart to... ache, this much.
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[That's..... kind of impressive, actually. In his admittedly limited experience, the gods tend to be dicks, to be honest. They're hardly ever interested in mortals unless it directly involves their own self-interest, or they could use them as pawns in whatever divine game of chess they're playing with each other..... Yes, he's looking at you, Hades. He's probably also considered the ruler of the damned, and when has he ever inspired that kind of devotion?
He can't imagine anyone staring at Hades with the same sort of mournful yearning Lestat had stared at the water with. What kind of person was this goddess-queen? And what had happened to her, to make Lestat so sad? Is an entity like that really able to die? Have an awkward arm pat, Lestat; even if he did have a heart, he probably still wouldn't be sure how to be comforting, here. This is waaaaay above his paygrade.
Read as: he doesn't get paid at all. Help.Hell, it probably still would be even if he was allowed to spout some falsely comforting nonsense.]the gifs you posted... i'm dead
What happened to the unflappable Vampire Lestat - the one who had lured Demyx into a sense of security so perfect that he could feed from him, the one handsome and confident enough to be an appealing consort to that Goddess in the first place?
We were lovers, is what he means to say, but what comes out is: ] She stole me away in the middle of the night to be her Prince in a new world of her own making.
[ He can feel himself saying the wrong thing, but somehow he can't stop; all he can do is inhale the scent of the fire. Cursed thing. He groans as though frustrated with himself, running a hand back and through his hair. ]
She is gone now, either way. No use mourning what is no more.
:3c
[
Bro, what the fuck.That. That's just called kidnapping, Lestat. Kidnapping and Stockholm Syndrome. It doesn't matter what kind of crazy romantic promises she made you to try and keep you complacent, Demyx is pretty sure that's just straight up a hostage situation. He's gonna go out on a limb here and say Lestat definitely isn't okay? Yikes.At least it explains how weirdly compelled Lestat seems by the idea of Maleficent, someone on nearly the same level, able to all but make a world of her own. Were he a year or two older, Demyx might even actually be able to sympathize, to a degree--when Xehanort puts his final plan into motion, and revives him to become one of his vessels in his bid to remake the multiverse to his own liking..... Well, it isn't as though he'll exactly be able to say no, when the time comes. But that's a lifetime away, and hardly so romanticized as it sounds like Lestat's gilded cage must have been.
He may feel compelled to tell the truth, but that doesn't mean he can't tactfully keep his mouth shut so he doesn't cram his foot in there. Even he can manage a little restraint, sometimes. But what else can you even say about something like that? "Sorry for your loss"? He's really not, though. If anything, that was probably a lucky break for Lestat. "Bummer, dude"? Tell Lestat something he doesn't already know. How much worse would this be if he could actually feel how awkward it is?]
I..... guess not? You'll always have the memories, though.
[Unless Lestat's world has a Naminรฉ equivalent of their own, of course. Then it's probably possible to break that chain, for better or worse. Whether those memories are actually worth having or not, though, that's on Lestat to decide.]
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The last shred of goodness in him had sung out like a dying star, and for his troubles all he got was her looking at him with disappointment and fury, ready to destroy him just for denying her what she decided was rightfully hers.
But admitting to all that makes him a victim, doesn't it? And a victim is the last thing Lestat will ever allow himself to be. He settles on the log a little more, his eyes pinched and focusing in on the fire. He deliberates his answer for a long while, and then the fire seems to pick it for him. ]
Yes, mon ami, her memory will always haunt me.
I couldn't resist >.> /dumps a bucket of Disney over his head
In the end, he only really has one piece of advice to give. How's he coped with his own situation?
Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt!]Yeah, I bet. But hey, hakuna matata, right? She's gone, now; try not to let her get to you too much.
what a wonderful phrase....
Yes, she is gone, and yes Lestat no longer has to worry about the haunted Queen scooping him out of his resting place and spiriting him away to some unknown location to trick him into committing genocide at her side. But she is still with him every day; her blood has changed him so much that sometimes he doesn't recognise himself, and that is something he can't simply forget about.
Akasha had been the first of their kind, the Queen of their race, and her closed mind and cold heart is all that awaits those of his kind who live to reach her age. His soft and diffused beauty will one day fade into something hardened and sharpened by time, and his mind will lose its wonder to the ennui of immortality. It's inevitable, it's inescapable, it's--
Lestat pauses, opening eyes he doesn't remember closing, and frowning slightly. He turns that frown on Demyx. ]
Haku-- What? What did you just say?
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[Spying trips. Reconnaissance trips. Whatever. It's not specifically spying if he's supposed to just look around and learn whatever he can however he can, right? "Infiltrating" an entire world is a pretty grandiose way to put it, really--just a plausibly deniable way of saying that he's expendable enough to lose in unknown territory, if it comes to that. At least it doesn't have to involve fighting, if he's good enough at it.
The melody turns lighter and brighter, almost bouncy. Now that he thinks about it, this place and the Pridelands are both beautiful, untouched expanses of wilderness, aren't they? The Pridelands just..... didn't prevent him from escaping like this one does. Weird, huh? He wonders what's causing it. Too bad he's not smart enough to figure this sort of thing out on his own.]
It means no worries! The past is in the past, the future is in the future. Let 'em stay where they belong. You can only live right now, dude. That's where you belong.
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No worries... [ Lestat muses, tilting his head a little in consideration, easily letting this more light-hearted song wash over him. ] Is that so...
[ He is always so easily taken by music, being an almost rock star himself and having been very recently summoned from death sleep by music it's no surprise that he feels like it speaks to him in a way, so he closes his eyes in the midst of this one. He can feel the notes soothing his twisted soul, reinforcing Demyx's words somewhat, and even if Lestat can't fully let go of what troubles him enough to believe them completely.. he does feel comforted. That much is undeniably true.
He looks to the fire, the flames reflecting back in his eyes, the scent of its strange power still thick in his senses but.. strangely familiar now. He smiles, just a bit. ]
Maybe you're right.