InsaneJournal

Day Twenty One
Who: Armand and Lestat
What: Time for the kidnapper to be rescued
When: Day 21, Early evening
Where: The mountains, where Lestat went to ground
Rating: At least R just cause it's Lestat and Armand.
Status Incomplete


Lestat hadn't come back this morning. This wasn't a big deal. Armand was busy basking in the glow that had come with nearly draining the Doctor and the alien boy Max, and in truth, he hadn't noticed until recently that the other vampire who shared this room wasn't around. It had been days though, he'd realized this evening as he'd come up out of the place where he hid from the daylight. The more he thought about it, the more alarmed he got. Lestat was a wanderer, true, but surely he would come home eventually?

Also, a couple of days ago, through the link that all vampires shared, at least those who had neither created nor been created by the other one, he'd sensed something. He had paid no attention to it at the time, being too drunk on the blood of the aliens, and the bonding that had happened, but now that he had mostly sobered up, he was worried. Yes, he could admit it. He really was fond of the Brat Prince, though he spent half his time trying to act like he wasn't.

Still, as he came out of hiding, he spend a couple of minutes preening in front of the mirror. His skin had become even more pearly white, luminescent, since drinking the powerful blood. He could feel that he was stronger, too, and he snarled playfully at his reflection in the mirror. Because he felt the urge to, he cut off most of his shoulder length hair, leaving it short, boyish, and tousled. Sure, it was a little vain to be worried about his appearance when he was also worried about the Vampire Lestat, but it was just how he was.

Finally, all was ready. It was early, yet, with the sun still casting reddish shadows into the darkening sky. A mark of how worried he was, that he had awoken so early. As he left the building, he opened his mind. The strength of his powers nearly exhilerated him, but for once, he focused. Blonde hair, rakish smile, blue eyes... the Brat Prince himself. Now that he was open to it, he got such a strong sense of him, and pain, that he had no trouble tracking him down. It was hard, though, to keep himself from getting really angry. Who had hurt his Lestat like this?

Finally, he reached the spot where the sense of Lestat was the strongest, and started digging. People called him an angel, and had since he was a mere mortal, and today he was living up to his name. He would rescue Lestat, though he wasn't too worried about the reasons for why. He wanted to, he cared for him. Those two things were enough.