Léon Pierroux ⚜ Louis de Pointe du Lac (sufferme) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2017-10-31 20:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | leander durant, léon pierroux |
Who: Léon Pierroux & Leander Durant
What: All their most important moments happen on Halloween
Where: Léon's apartment in New Orleans
When: Tuesday, December 31; evening
Warnings: TBD
Halloween had lost its charm for Léon far younger than most children. He'd taken responsibility for taking his siblings (mostly Claire) out trick-or-treating until something resembling adult supervision wasn't necessary but even as a child himself dressing up and going door to door asking for candy hadn't been something he'd been completely comfortable with. In his college years it had been just another excuse for a party; the holiday itself hadn't mattered as much as the drinks and the lack of inhibitions that wearing a mask could bring. He'd wanted that then. Craved it, even. After that he hadn't bothered celebrating unless his sister didn't take no for an answer and dragged him out to do something social... like the night that he'd met Leander for the first time and Halloween had become something to be melancholy about. Now, Halloween was the night that he'd stopped being human and become the monster that he'd always hoped against hope that he'd never be.
There were still things that Léon couldn't put aside in favor of sulking in his apartment; he'd gone trick-or-treating with Esmé and Giselle as soon as it had been dark enough for him to go outside. Giselle still wasn't old enough to remember whether he'd been there or not but Léon had promised that he'd be there for the important moments. It didn't matter whether she remembered all of them, would be better if his presence was so commonplace that she couldn't remember whether he'd been there for one thing in particular or not. For this occasion at least there were pictures. There would be no question of whether her daddy had put forth the effort even on his least favorite day of the year to be the best father that he could possibly be even though he could never be there for anything that happened in the daylight. She was still young though and they couldn't have stayed out for long even if she'd known enough to beg for it. She'd been happy playing with the candy in her bag when he'd told them goodbye.
Now the last of the distractions that Léon had was gone and all that was left to do that night was change into the oldest, most shapeless sweater he had and make himself comfortable on the couch with a book and a bottle of wine. It wasn't as if he had any work to do. His two weeks' notice as Overbite's manager had long since expired and he'd washed his hands of everything involving them. Almost, anyway. He'd been inches from burning all of the copies he'd kept for himself and the articles and pictures he'd collected even before he'd become the band's manager just because Lestat was involved before he'd doused the flames and returned it to a locked filing cabinet. Knowing Leander everything that he'd handed over would get misplaced and the next manager would have to come begging Léon for anything he had left that might help.
He knew that didn't explain the articles and the pictures. Those would never see the light of day. It still seemed wrong for them to not exist anymore.
It was no wonder that Léon was feeling unsettled. He'd gotten so used to having something to do that it still seemed strange to have the time to sit. He'd tried to convince himself that it was a nice kind of strange but the truth was that Léon thrived on having something to do. More specifically, Léon thrived on having someone to boss around and as much as he'd complained about it keeping Overbite as a whole in line had made him feel more alive than he'd felt since years before he'd died. Instead of a welcome break, being completely alone and knowing that there wouldn't be any last minute emergencies or some misbehavior that he needed to shame someone about made him think about putting the book down and crawling back in bed even though it would be hours before the sun was up and he needed to be safely tucked into his coffin. A book that should have been a comforting familiarity was boring and the wine that should have been an indulgence just made him feel like a sad drunk.
Léon was only as far away from calling the night over as it took him to muster up the energy to move when he heard someone at the door. It was a little late for trick-or-treating but Léon knew better than most what strange kinds of schedule some people had to keep. They wouldn't be having much luck this late at night; he could have ignored them as well but Léon would have felt guilty pretending not to be home when he didn't exactly have a reason to call the night over. There was a small bowl of candy sitting on a table by the door for just in case. He dragged himself off the couch and grabbed it before he opened the door. The smile on his face wasn't very convincing but whoever was on the other side wouldn't care.