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Tweak says, "Try the apples..."

Lestat de Lioncourt (i_liveforever) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2011-02-03 21:16:00

Entry tags:

hannibal lecter, lestat de lioncourt

midnight in the garden of good and evil (hannibal)
In his escape from Arkham, with thanks to Frank Castle, Lestat drank seven orderlies and nurses nearly to death. He hadn't drained anyone *to* death. Just to the brink. He'd needed to replenish what the staff had taken out of him when they shackled him to the wall.

Despite himself, in his anger, Lestat had also snapped the neck of the unfortunate boy who'd tried on several occasions to make him drink dead blood. He viewed it as self-defense, nothing more, forgetting for the moment how broken he'd felt standing in the hall of his dead in Hell, his catatonia, his eye and the reason for the first set of shackles made of hair.

He'd been flying, literally and figuratively, often the last few nights, riding a kind of high of more human blood than he'd had in quite some time. In the absence of other vampires, though--specifically the absence of other vampires that'd allow him to drink their blood-- it was a necessity. And it made him feel... amazing.

He'd caught a familiar and enticing scent, near the City botanical gardens. He'd know it anywhere, since he so fixated on the person to whom it belonged. Lestat stopped in midair and levitated slightly above the ground, watching the young man walk through the greenery and the flowers.

Smiling.

When it became clear that he wasn't making enough noise, even for this person with heightened senses, Lestat let himself touch down on the ground.

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i_liveforever
2011-02-08 06:32 am UTC (link)

"God isn't what you think he is," Lestat said, eyebrow rising and falling. He couldn't remember the specifics of the last conversation they'd had like this one. "He's pretty much a vindictive and cruel bad guy pretending to be good. I imagine you shall get to see everyone again, if only so He can continue torturing them."

It was best now to let the subject drop, unless he wanted to be responsible for upsetting Hannibal more. There was nothing to add about River that wouldn't enrage the boy. Did he want to hear about how they'd kept her restrained? They'd known--he'd heard their thoughts--that she once killed a doctor with a pen. They'd kept everything from her.

This boy who loved her beyond reason did not need to know such things. Lestat himself hated knowing them. The Dark Gift was not without its serious ill effects.

He nodded in acknowledgement of the thanks. "You've gone back to your usual haunt, then? And back to terrorizing Dr. Tam?"

Lestat had settled back into his rooms. The apartment was secluded and secret; no one would ever find it without Lestat allowing them to.

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i_consume
2011-02-08 06:41 am UTC (link)

"I've returned to my lodgings at Bates Motel, yes. But I have yet to return to work. I assume I should do so soon, however." Hannibal reached out and touched the flower gently, the stem, not the petals. The people who came here to see the beauty of it would likely not know of it's value as a deadly agent. In fact, there were quite a few flowers within this garden that could be used to harm and kill.

But he would not use them on the people that he stored in his mind, those that were nameless as of yet but would come to the light soon enough. No, Hannibal much preferred a hands on approach with matters such as this.

"I'm sure that life within this City will return to it's norm before too long. Then, just when we're comfortable, something else will spring up. I've come to enjoy the unpredictability of the place. It leaves one with a constant state of wonder. Very hard to ever be bored in a city like this one. Very hard to be lacking in amusements at all."

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i_liveforever
2011-02-10 03:56 am UTC (link)

Lestat wouldn't disagree. He'd thought of existence, when a younger vampire, as a garden. He'd been quite flowery with words, then. And now and then he knew he got carried away describing things like table legs or Tarquinn Blackwood's face.

It leaves one in a constant state of wonder.

The vampire started laughing, and it was a low, short chuckle. Then as Hannibal continued, the laughter grew. It was clear and almost ringing.

He drew a hand to his mouth to cover the laughter, to not be rude. The leather of his finely cut jacket creaked. His violet eyes twinkled without any mercy. The laughter was at Hannibal's expense.

When he'd regained his composure, Lestat smirked at the boy.

"You do realize you describe this city as I've described all cities in the world, specifically New Orleans? What you just said is why I'm too in love with myself and other people to ever allow myself to die."

The smirk grew into a smile. Are you really so similar? A constant state of wonder. I used to disgust others of my kind by falling in love with people in Wal-Mart. And then falling in love with various things inside Wal-Mart.

He suspected it wasn't quite the same. Lestat had only ever had the impulse to destroy anything around Armand, and the bastard always had it coming. His violence, his "folly," as David would say, always had to do with getting attention, and with causing trouble.

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i_consume
2011-02-16 12:14 am UTC (link)

Hannibal turned slightly to look at Lestat with a brow lifted. If he hadn't known the vampire as well as he did, he might have taken the laughter as an insult.

"Your world is much stranger than mine, remember. Where I come from, there are no vampires and fantastic things to keep one's mind occupied. To me this place is filled with the strange. It may be commonplace for you, but it is not for others."

He smirked and shook his head a little bit. "We also do not see human beings the same way, Lestat. I do not fall in love with them the way that you do. We are similar in many ways, perhaps. But in this, we differ."

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i_liveforever
2011-02-17 05:14 am UTC (link)

Lestat didn't believe there were no vampires in Hannibal's world. He believed Hannibal just had not encountered them.

The vampire shrugged. The shrug didn't fit him; it was too graceful, entirely, and far too bulky a gesture to work for something otherworldly. "I'll bet you don't even *like* Wal-Mart," he mused.

He arched a brow, scanning the flowers in the darkness.

"Are any others here worth sketching?"

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i_consume
2011-02-17 11:20 pm UTC (link)

"I don't even know what Wal-Mart is." Hannibal admitted. He'd not seen any such place since he'd been in the City, and was pretty sure that one wouldn't pop up just for their amusement. "You come from time after mine, Lestat."

How easily the vampire seemed to forget some things at times. Hannibal wondered if he did it willfully. Purposefully. Or if he just wished that much that Hannibal could share in all the things that he knew.

"Many. But I came here for this one tonight." He indicated the flower behind him. "I think I will do a few more sketches of it, though. Perhaps a grouping of more than one of them. Different angles. I'm not quite ready to retire."

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