open.

[unquiets]

drop whatever ur heart desires 😌

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im back in the building again

[lyceius]

[ ooc: overflow from tfln.]

That trash novel consists of biased falsehoods, greatly exaggerated by a washed up journalist on his next ego trip.

It is a pitiful excuse for a memoir, let alone a publication!

Whatever it is you think you know of me through that book, disregard it!

hello hello

[unquiets]

I'm not actually stupid enough to believe everything I read, lestat.
critical thinking isn't an entirely lost art.

[lyceius]

Then what is left in those gaps, pray tell?

If it is one of your sole sources on me, then I am not convinced that you know as much as you believe.

[unquiets]

look, I know how people twist reality, twist the truth to suit them, to make their view of a person whole and complete. but I'm not going to sit here and tell you about yourself. I've met you, we've spoken, you've spent time inside my ... mind.

( sort of. )

you don't need me to prop up your ego.

is this your way of telling me I should read some of the magazine interviews?

[lyceius]

Non. But it is enough to assure that any estimations that you have of me are inaccurate.

Although for one with such an apparent lack of interest in me, you did not have to read the book.

Does my long blond hair remind you of your ex lover, cher? I do recall seeing a glimpse of a pretty, stern thing in your blood.

[unquiets]

it was something new and different. usually I stick to sci-fi.

you're nothing like syd.

[lyceius]

Sydney, then?

A strong name. She must be willful indeed, yes?

Where is she now?

[unquiets]

she is.

we broke up.
I'm not stalking her.

[lyceius]

With all of your power? My, you are a good man.

No doubt it would only be too easy to track her location from place to place with your abilities, yes?

[ remember when he said he'd stop talking to david? yeah he doesn't either. ]

[lyceius]

[ sometime after sunset, david may notice a slight disturbance in the compound. not for too long, just a sense of confusion at first, quickly eased over with a quick serenity that feels almost too rushed.

naturally, it's lestat - though this may not be completely obvious to david's senses. he's located the compound and has charmed his way through the front door, a mixture of the mind gift and sweet talking that has proven especially effective. it turns out that name dropping david earns him quite the delighted response from his followers, particularly the intoxicated young women who seem head over heels for the man.

naturally, he helps himself to not just a discreet bite to the neck of one or two giddy young women, but also to the potent blue smoke that the others seem too happy to share. it's enough to leave the blond delightfully hazy and loose limbed, twined around handsy young women atop a couch in the back.

in his current state of intoxication, his mind is pleasantly unguarded, adding another voice to no doubt what must be a constant buzz of thoughts for david to sift through.]

[unquiets]

( in his commune-house-construct, the inside of which makes no real sense other than to drive home the fact that it's david and his ability to bend and shape and warp reality around him, david's attention tends to be ... less vigilant. sure, he listens out for division three and farouk, of any sign of trouble in that regard, but that's about as far as things go. his girls (and boys, though there are fewer of those) can take care of themselves, and to be permanently on edge would — well, it'd ruin the mood.

so: he has no idea lestat's here. he splits his time between the wide, open cavern where only lenny usually bothers to bother him, and the rest of the house. it's want of company — or, well, love and want themselves — rather than anything else that has him going from the former to the latter, and though david's under no illusions about what the commune is — a cult full of people looking for their next fix and to be fixed — he tends not to think of it so negatively.

he's happy. they're happy. where's the problem in that?

his appearance earns a series of delighted squeals, one then two then three, like dominoes — "daddy's here!" — which is reciprocated in kind by gentle murmurs and a masturbatory, blissed out sort of pleasure to the adoration until—.

lestat.

rather than overt irritation, it's bemusement. david's perhaps the best-tempered lestat's seen him, although his thoughts shift ostensibly to a giant question mark at the sight of lestat here. he waves away a woman pawing at his arm, expression distracted, gaze fixed wholly on him. )

How did you—?

( find this place? enter? both? yes. )

[lyceius]

[ lestat too, is quite lazy and loose limbed from the various intoxicants in both the blood and the smoke, in a good mood as a result. at the chain reaction caused by david's appearance he perks up, untwining himself and looking around for the other man.

their eyes meet across the room and lestat cannot help but smirk at david's clear confusion. wonderfully taken aback, just as he'd hoped.

he's up in a heartbeat, padding across the room to approach david gracefully. the girls surrounding the other man part for him, a chorus of welcoming chimes and fond looks.]

You are not the only one with tricks.

[ he purrs, steps into david's personal space and loops arms around the smaller man's neck. around them, the followers croon and sigh, still pawing at david for attention of their own whilst lestat smiles lazily, toys with the fine hairs on the back of the other man's nape. ]

Welcome home, Daddy.

[ definitely taking the piss, but he's sluggish and a bit cuddly about it, all things considered.]

[unquiets]

( it's annoying.

it's not annoying enough to warrant a spike of irritation, or — well, no, it would be, ordinarily, but right now, david finds he doesn't have it in him. his gaze flickers to his left, towards a brunette that's been a part of this for long enough that david should know her name, but he's never really bothered to learn many of them — he doesn't need to, after all — just as she half-murmurs, half-pleads something about how they've been waiting.

his gaze flits back to lestat, although there's a breath of a pause as he seemingly reflexively leans into lestat's touch before half-catching himself. he pauses, but he doesn't flinch, doesn't attempt to step out from under lestat's arms. nor does he look back to the brunette — marigold, a thought (whose? he doesn't know) helpfully supplies — as he remarks, ) We've got a guest.

( if he notices the mocking intended in lestat's greeting, there's no sign of it. instead, he's calm, placid. attentive enough, but less intense than usual. )

Have you been helping him settle in?

( ostensibly asked to the room at large, but with the way that david's gaze doesn't leave lestat, it's clear he's less interested in the enthused answers of yes, daddy! and of course, daddy! and more interested in lestat's response. )

[lyceius]

[ sweet, actually, how relaxed david is here amongst his adoring followers. lestat expected a snap in return, a hasty retreat to his physicality. it works for him, as loose limbed and affectionate as the blue smoke has made the vampire; textures and warmth feel good, david smells good, as does the eager women around them both. ]

Oui, your entourage has been most welcoming. Quite an attractive collection you have here, cher. Such devotion to their handsome leader.

[ slow, drowsy blinks down at the other man; clearly from the size of lestat's pupils, he's quite intoxicated, as is evident by the way he traces his finger up and down the smooth slope of david's neck. into his hairline and back, only pausing to untangle himself and step away.]

We have all been eager for your arrival. Won't you come join us?

[ perhaps he had initially arrived with another intent - to tease and bother david some more, perhaps. but the sensual pleasures have eroded such purposes so that even if david had not arrived, the vampire would have happily spent his evening amongst the tangle of warm bodies and soothing tones.

its where he pads back to now - the welcoming embrace of a short haired blond thing on the couch, whom he crawls over to nuzzle into the neck of, much to her delight. the woman giggles at the brush of his lips and nose against her jaw, drags the vampire down into the cushions to kiss lazily. now laid out on his back with a lap full of blond, lestat opens an eye to peer at david across the room, watching to see what he would do. unguarded, just curious. ]

[unquiets]

( entourage. the term earns a slight tilt of david's head, ostensibly disagreement even if there's no real sharpness to it. )

We're a family, ( he corrects, the words firm but gentle as lestat's fingers slide out of his hair and graze the back of his neck as he steps away. it's fine, the mistake's — well, it's not understandable, but it's forgivable. lestat has an entourage, people that flock to him because of who he says he is, what he says he is, what he does. it's understandable, he's just mapping what he knows onto this. )

'Collection' makes it sound ugly. They—. ( his gaze narrows, circles up and round like he's flicking through a rolodex of words, trying to find just the right one. ) Choose me, I don't make them come.

Isn't that right? ( a glance sideways; a chorus of yeses. he doesn't say anything about how much of it is their choice to stay.

it's an eclectic space — low, soft-cushioned sofas in rich tones of the sort lestat sinks into now; round, multipurpose sofa beds made of wood and designed to look like a bird's nest, full of cushions and blankets, large enough for three or more; lamps that take the form of prepostuously large eggs; plants — trees and flowers — everywhere, all of it illuminated by liquid blue running in pipes along the walls, floor to ceiling. the colour of love.

the lighting suits lestat, emphasises the fullness — sharpness — of his slightly-too-large mouth, the brightness of his eyes, the unnatural shine of his nails, the lustre of his hair. with the way that he fixes his one open eye on david, david assumes lestat know that. assumes, too, that he's waiting for a response. reaction? reaction. he's not jealous, why would he be jealous? this is his space.

nevertheless, dora — one of his favourites, she's been with him (them, he and lenny and salmon, he supposes, but mostly him) since near the start — tugs at his hand, leading him towards lestat. david complies, sitting on an array of mismatched blankets on the floor near the couch, legs crossed, looking up at lestat. the curve of his lips is pleasant, watchful, and he holds dora's hand in place on his left knee as she sits next to him. )

It's nice, right? This place. My home.

[lyceius]

[ the correction is digested silently. david can insist all he likes, but if it walks like a harem and talks like a harem, then... quite similar to stereotypical, cocky vampires settling down in a little den of sin, keeping plenty of bodies available for both fucking and food. mortals hooked on the body high and whatever sweet oblivion the vampire chooses to offer them.

these mortals too, are malleable, welcoming the place beyond thought. soft animal reassurance. lestat offers it to the woman straddling him, a gentle probe to her mind, a suggestion to her synapses of bliss, of pleasure. she shivers atop him, thighs clenching and murmurs something playfully scolding into his ear. the others around the room do not seem to notice in the slightest. such activities are no doubt commonplace in the hazy home david has curated. ]

Mm. [ lestat gives his approval, a satisfied rumble. ] Cozy. Although it is not what I had expected. Something a touch more primitive, perhaps? This is far more akin to the underground clubs I play in on occasion.

[ the neon, the slight decay, the indulgence. less alcohol, less violence, all swept under a blissful haze. ]

I did not expect to find such harmony, I admit. Such beauty to be enjoyed, shared. [ he catches dora's eye and smiles, even as his own companion mouths at his neck somewhere out of view, arching atop him from just a trace of a claw along her thigh.

no flicker of his eyes towards david, though there's certainly an invisible weight of observation the psychic may feel. settling just outside of the man's mind, as if that fingertip were still stroking down the length of his neck. he's here for david, much like everyone else in the house. no different to the rest of the little family, though certainly more dangerous. ]

[unquiets]

( david almost points out that everything lestat says just proves that he'd misjudged and misunderstood david, that everything he took from whatever he'd seen in david's memories, was wrong. ironic, perhaps, given the way that lestat had insisted that molloy's book was an unfactual mess, incomplete and unfair.

(david, of course, doesn't consider for a second that his own interpretation of his past is particular, not wholly embedded in fact. farouk may have altered his memories, may have confused him and may have made him forget, but some of that—

—some of it was just david.)

instead, david watches with what's at first almost detached interest as lestat makes the blonde on his lap shiver and shudder in pleasure, as she leans into his ear and whispers something that david doesn't bother to listen — not out of politeness, but because there are other thoughts that take precedence. the weight of lestat's presence on his, the feeling of his mind, weighted, like a blanket.

david's eyes flutter close for a beat, lestat's french-accented vowels and consonants hanging in the almost-silence but for the thrum of disco in the background. (where from? it doesn't matter.)

his eyes open and he leans into dora, a hand ghosting along her back and coming to rest on the curve of her waist as he leans into her and offers a quiet suggestion, head tilting back towards lestat. shared, lestat had said, and the word had felt heavy, pointed.

david doesn't stretch out, doesn't shift his weight, but he does let go of dora's hand, a silent encouragement for her to join lestat and company on the couch, as david watches, his gaze entirely fixed on lestat. entirely because, annoyingly, lestat isn't looking at him.

david doesn't doubt it's deliberate, but—.

he exhales, wets his lips.

offers, softly, )

I'm not selfish.

tfln overflow;

[lyceius]

Does Lenny not know you best? She would know all the little secrets that make you tick and squirm, would she not?

Do correct me if there are other, overlooked resources I should be investigating.

bless u

[unquiets]

she does. but she doesn't know everything about me.

can't the big, charming immortal vampire figure that out for himself?

✌️

[lyceius]

Then I am certain she has some insights worth knowing.

It is best that I leave Sydney out of the potential candidates. For your sake, and hers.

[unquiets]

knock yourself out.

and yours, don't forget that. our friendship :)

[lyceius]

Wonderful. No doubt we will get along famously, before I inspect her memories.

Of course. Our friendship.

You could just offer more of your blood. In the name of friendship.

[unquiets]

she's important to me. don't do anything to change that.

and what do I get? in the "name of our friendship".

[lyceius]

What harm could I possibly do? [ plenty. but he'd try to behave. ]

The exhilaration of the little drink. Closeness. My gratitude.

[ of course, it didn't need to be straight from the vein, but lestat wasn't going to spoil an opportunity to watch david balk up close. ]

[unquiets]

don't play coy.

the little drink. ( ridiculous name. ) you didn't name it, right?

( says "daddy" with his "enlightenment house". )