InsaneJournal

Day Twenty Five
Who: Armand and Michiru
What: Random meeting
When: Early evening
Where: Roaming the grounds
Rating: It's Armand. At least PG, but will change as needed
Status Incomplete


In reality, Armand was quite content. Sure, he knew from experience that it couldn't possibly last, but for now, he was doing well. He had the love of the Brat Prince himself, he had the glorious possibility of tracking down those who had hurt Lestat and punishing them, and he was really quite pleased with the way life was going. Soon, he would go track down the alien Riddick, and he would deal with him. It was only a matter of time.

For now, however, he felt the need to be alone, to simply process everything that had happened. Only a few short weeks ago, he'd been ready to die for the holy relic of the Veronica. Now, he felt more alive (as such) than he had in a long time. He felt like celebrating. He didn't much like the cold, of course, but that was a small price to pay for the wonder of the sky, which was still tinged with violet from the sunset. He'd arisen quite early, and quite filled with an irresistable wanderlust.

Out into the snow he went, not really bothering with clothing that suited the weather. What did winter matter to someone who felt a lot like cold marble? And he'd dealt with quite a bit worse in the Parisian underground. So simple black slacks and a casual, but perfectly fitted, dark red shirt that appealed to him because it matched his hair and brought out the shades in his dark eyes, that would do nicely. The chill wind bit into him as he walked, hands in his pockets, looking nothing more than a lost boy.

He was quite aware of it when someone else came close to him. He stopped and looked around, and soon enough saw a small figure. She had the most remarkable hair he'd ever seen. Was this the Tonks person that Lestat had told him about? He stopped and watched her, an expression of curiousity clear on his angelic face. He waited, wondering if she would come closer. He wanted to talk to her.