Léon Pierroux ⚜ Louis de Pointe du Lac (sufferme) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2015-10-31 22:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | !halloween, !plot week, leander durant, léon pierroux |
Who: Leander Durant & Léon Pierroux
What: They dance, they kiss, Leander bites… (1/2)
Where: New Orleans, Louisiana
When: Saturday, October 31st, 2015
Warnings: None, this part.
It might be a bit cliche, but Leander loved Halloween. The decorations, the costumes, the parties. The idea of becoming someone or something else for a night with no consequences, now that was the kind of thinking that Leander could get behind. Of course, it wasn’t ever an idea that he needed to embody himself. Leander and Lestat never felt the need to be someone they weren’t, they were perfectly happy just being who they are. That didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy the notion in other people, though, and they did. Quite thoroughly. There really was nothing near as intoxicating as meeting someone in disguise and striking up a conversation with them, because it always became a game of who could be the better liar. Leander still usually won, because no matter how much a person tried to pretend to be someone else, there were always clues that pointed towards the lies, to the real person underneath the mask they were wearing. Leander was himself with or without a mask, and he was always lying.
Masquerade balls were irresistible to him, in that respect, especially at Halloween. Everyone was in the holiday spirit, almost more eager to show off the masks they wore instead of hide behind them. Masquerades were an old thing, not a new trend, and Leander had been attending them for years, over half a century in fact, never quite growing sick of them. After all this time, he still found something absolutely charming about them, and especially around this time of year. The month of October was always a busier time for Overbite, booking twice as many shows than any other month because everybody loved a good Halloween themed show put on by actual vampires. Of course, Leander wasn’t above that kind of publicity stunt. He ate it up like any respectable vampire with a healthy appetite would, and the fans loved it. Say what you would about Leander, but he did actually care about the fans. It just so happened that what their fans loved was usually in line with Leander’s own, selfish priorities, so it just worked out for everyone involved. Fame and fortune never truly got old, especially when you didn’t.
There was an annual masquerade that happened every year on Halloween in New Orleans, at the Maison Dupuy in the French Quarter, one of Leander’s old stomping grounds from decades ago (and in an area that also held a similar nostalgia for Lestat). Overbite never had a show on the actual night of Halloween, so Leander was always free to do as he pleased, and more often than not, he usually ended up here. Some years he found something else that momentarily captured his interest more, but this year, he found himself back in the old, familiar places. Leander and Lestat were creatures of habit, and they’d never been known to turn down a good party. Lestat had always had a taste for the finer things in life, something that he’d passed onto Leander, who had come to live with some pretty high expectations so far as entertainment went. He wasn’t going to be just anywhere on Halloween, and this year’s theme just so happened to be creatures of the underworld, so it wasn’t a party to be missed.
He arrived at the venue fashionably late that evening, naturally, and looking appropiately demonic. It would have been more appropriate to come as a vampire, perhaps, but even Leander didn’t always like to be too on the nose. Besides, there were already plenty of ‘vampires’ here, Leander and Lestat noted with amusement. Mere wannabes, of course, and Leander was very likely the only real vampire in the place, but as much as his own fanbase embraced his true nature, parading that sort of thing in public places like this wasn’t always the quickest way to make friends. Or to keep a low profile, when that was exactly the entire point of an event like this. How did that line go? Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you… Yes, unsurprisingly, Leander was a Phantom of the Opera fan.
The place was decorated hellishly and full of warm, eager bodies. Leander could practically taste the blood on his lips already, he could hear every heartbeat, every quickening pulse. So many party goers eager to get worked up and commit themselves to sin. And Leander? He was just about as sinful as they come. For the moment, he was content to stick to the sidelines, linger there with a drink and wait. For what, he wasn’t quite sure yet. For someone worthwhile to catch his attention? Probably. Leander wasn’t always picky when it came to his meals, but he wasn’t necessarily looking to feed tonight, despite what a good cover he had with so many people in here masquerading as what he truly was. Tonight, perhaps he was also craving a little conversation and genuine, human interaction as well. Not that he’d ever admit it.