Of course. But wonderful. I will see you at your haven, then.
[ with newly bought outfits in tow, naturally. he may have to hide them near david's chambers though, or give them to a family member to offer at a later date.]
( time doesn't matter in any real sense at the commune — people sleep when they want, wake when they want, do what they want (within reason) as and when. david has something that isn't precisely a routine, but it's close enough for his purposes, though sleep for him is still an easily disturbed thing, and it's not uncommon for him to be awake at nearing-midnight.
the house itself is, though not quiet, quieter, and while david doesn't make a point of being out on the porch waiting for lestat — that'd imply a desperation, a kind of willingness and anticipation about his participation in this that he doesn't want to portray — the murmurs, whispers, excitement and something that david thinks borders on fondness, lets him know when lestat arrives. it's — annoying.
a blink, and he's next to lestat, mouth curved in a smile, soft and deliberate. he wouldn't be doing this if he weren't for the implicit threat — lenny — even if david's unable, incapable of acknowledging that it's not for her he's agreed to this, it's for himself.
one second. he's next to lestat for one second, his attention entirely on the vampire. he doesn't notice anything — or anyone, should the case be — else lestat might have arrived with, doesn't give even the slightest of glances to his own quote-unquote family. a hand reaching out to rest on lestat's arm, not a word in greeting, and then they're in david's cave. it's sparse as ever, the roof a mix of warm yellows and oranges (aesthetic—) and bathed in natural light from the sun that is in no way natural at all; pipes of blue liquid — as ever — circle the space.
while david had mentioned dressing up, lestat's rebuke, the way he'd spoken about david's choices in clothing, had all but ensured david's commitment to near-enough the only outfit lestat's ever seen him in.
he gestures towards a bench covered in cushions situated in a quaint, twee porch, not dissimilar to the one outside, just adorned only in primary colours. brighter. a small table sits in the middle, and david takes a seat on the bench opposite the one he'd gestured towards. he leans back against a wall, expectant.
[ for all of his supernatural strength, speed and flight, lestat is still not quite used to teleportation. certainly when he was younger, the rapid movements of older, stronger vampires appeared to be that of conjuration. his eyes had not yet grown sharp enough to see them slow the flow of time around them, wading through the stillness as if shallow water. to the untrained eye, he too is capable of this. admittedly he only utilises such tricks for the theatrics.
so the vampire is disoriented already, having not caught any trace of david upon entering the compound only to near jump out of his skin at the sudden appearance. barely time for the scowl to bloom across his features before a gentle weight places on his arm and the world skips with a lurch.
has he ever been in david's sanctum? he doesn't believe so. surely he would recall the faux spotlight of sunlight. that he would be giving a very wide berth, just in case. ]
Is it not a haven? [ unable to help himself from playing the contrarian to any and all of david's statements. typical. daintily he pads to the offered bench, sleek black gift bag in hand. his plans to pass it off to one of the family had been thoroughly thwarted by the abrupt kidnapping. well. ] It is a shelter for your family, yes? Hallowed ground for you and your kin.
[ he slides into the bench, deposits the bag atop the surface and immediately rests his elbows on the table to lock david in with an expectant gaze. a wave of his hand to the bag, not bothering to look at it. ]
I could not resist indulging in a gift. Wear them or don't, the choice is yours.
[ rest assured david, the outfit inside could very much purchase a small island still. ]
( david might have said he's uninterested in lestat playing dress-up with him, that he doesn't care for lestat's own style or that of the people that associate themselves with lestat, but that doesn't stop the boyish glimmer of curiosity and delight that crosses his features when lestat says the contents of the bag are for him. everything about here, this — the commune — is about david, about being wanted, his need for unconditional love, and the unasked for, undemanded gift slots on in with that.
he cants his head, studying lestat for a moment, then two, silent, as if he might be able to pluck the contents from lestat without asking, while the curve of his smile deepens into something more sincere. )
Thank you. ( there is, clearly, a desire to open it, to assess the contents, but for now he doesn't: they're here because lestat wanted — well, whatever he wanted. the little drink. one reason they're in this space, his cave, rather than out there with his "family". ) Hallowed ground makes it sound pretentious. It's a home. Some of them haven't had that before, not in any way that matters. It's why I like calling us a family. ( he waves a hand, dismissive. ) You think it's funny, them calling me 'daddy', but... It's useful. Important. Fathers look after their family, their home, keep everything safe. That's what I do. It's not— a sex thing, or whatever else you think of it as.
( or: unacknowledged daddy issues run rampant in both david and nearly everyone he surrounds himself with.
his gaze slides away from lestat for a moment, towards the centre of the cave where sunlight hits the floor. dust motes dance in the air, and david presses his lips into a line before glancing back to lestat. the outside world, the world that's real everywhere else, is dark. it's night. david prefers daytime, but— ) It's not real. ( beat. ) Well, it's not the sun. It's real in every way that matters to me right now, to you, maybe, but it won't hurt you if you want to stand in it.
—Or would you prefer moonlight? ( the right side of his mouth tugs into a sly smile. he raises a hand, but does nothing yet other than offer, )Ambience.
[ quite a pair they make, gazing at each other with something dawning on sincere warmth. well, lestat is starting to suspect that the smile david gives him is bordering on more truthful than many others he has aimed in his direction. the bright blue of his eyes seem to soften a touch more around the edges, for instance. the very slight slowing of his heartbeat.
admittedly the vampire is listening more to the thud of david's heart instead of his ramble about how his cult was a family, this was a home, some childish notion of the roles of fathers and their benevolence. clearly they had very different experiences as children. despite not wishing to sour their amicable mood, lestat's upper lip curls nastily, though he manages to blessedly refrain from making a snide correction. ]
It is a touch pretentious. And I would not mock you for a sex thing. [ a lazy mimicry of david's accent on the last two words. satisfying enough.comparing abandonment to physical abuse was not how he wished to ruin his small window of opportunity here, but a snipe couldn't hurt. ]
( david doesn't miss the curl of lestat's lips, but he doesn't know enough about lestat to place the why of it — he has his guesses, of course, but lestat has never shared enough for david to be certain, and david's never cared enough to ask. it's not, either, that he thinks (or had thought) that lestat would mock him as such, although he's under no illusions as to what extent kindness is a natural trait of lestat's, but he wanted to drive the point home: while lestat had mentioned thinking david was someone that was into the concept of daddies, that's not what this is.
so, then, he ignores lestat's intonation, his lazy parroting of david's words in favour of looking around the space they sit in, like it's the first time he's seen it. he's appreciative of lestat's praise, and it's reflected in the self-satisfied hum the remark earns in response. it is impressive and he likes it a lot. if lestat had offered a dissenting opinion, then—
—well, things would be quite different. )
Sometimes the house gets loud, ( david remarks, attention circling back round to lestat, like lestat had asked the question as to why. ) Solitude and space to think are helpful.
( he clicks his thumb and forefinger together, the sound echoing for longer than the acoustics of the space would naturally allow, and david slides back off the bench, the soles of his boots hitting the ground with a quiet thud as the sunlight changes to moonlight. the subtle, silver glow emphasises the blue liquid running in pipes, but david looks up as he walks to the centre of the room, eyeing the small display of stars visible. mildly, he thinks he should do this more often.
(the moonlight, not the other thing.) )
Teleportation is just about thinking, you know? Here, there, turning the second thing into the first thing. It's—. ( he waves a hand over his shoulder. ) Like breathing. You don't think about it, you just do it.
( he turns on the spot, finally turning back to face lestat. )
It'll be my blood, but... Did we agree on biting? It's a drink. They go in cups. Or glasses.
[ lestat too, refrains from questioning why only david was permitted space and solitude to retreat to. are the members of his family too, allowed such sanctuaries of their own? the argument would fall on deaf ears no doubt, or worse - cause david to rescind his offer. the self denial though as ever, was so very interesting. the blood would reveal more of this, lestat thought.
now glowing in the pale moonlight, blue neon of the liquid piped through casting soft cool hues onto david's skin, gleaming off the tendons in his hands as he gestures. the thought of biting into him whilst he looks so appetizing is causing lestat's fangs to sharpen in his mouth already. part curiosity, part hunger. partly the ambiance, presenting david as a delectable specimen to be devoured.
all the talk about teleportation is a reminder that the vampire had to be patient, else the psychic would simply blink out of his grasp. something to keep in mind as he rises from the booth too, settling back to lean his hips against the table. ready to move if invited. ]
--What? [ flatly, dismay etched all over his face. ] No, no, it is part of the petit coup. There is no artistry in the bleeding without the bite, no pleasure to be taken from the sweet sting of teeth.
[ he's irritated by the idea, even. this would technically work, yes - but where was the seduction? the drama? ] You would prepare all this - this fucking ambiance - and then opt for a lack of passion? No sensuality?
It is blood, you must treat it with respect. Not simply tap and pour like a cheap boxed wine. [ he's definitely had his share of irreverence, but that wasn't the point. enjoying a moment of power over the other man, that was the point. and the investigation of his memory and mind, of course. ]
( david, of course, is oblivious to lestat's thoughts — while he knows in a broad sense that lestat is unafraid to point out when he thinks david is posturing, is hypocritical, is deluding himself (although fortunately, perhaps, lestat's never used the term specifically), david's particular brand of self-absorption means that he doesn't think it's a persistent thing. they're similar, the two of them, mostly in ways david refuses to acknowledge, but they're similar, too, in ways that he does — the cave's nice; space and solitude is important, and lestat doesn't say anything, so he gets it, david thinks. the important of privacy.
you have to be careful with what you share with someone else, or else it can be turned against you. used to hurt you. he hasn't said it, but that's what he thinks was in the pages of molloy's book, what louis had seemed to miss, what lestat's never said (and why would he? david certainly hasn't asked).
he only half-expects lestat's rebuke. his teeth are bright, visible in the moonlight as he speaks, the enunciation of his words irritated, insistent. david blinks, eyes wide, and his brows knit momentarily, a question he doesn't bother to interrupt lestat to ask as lestat continues.
it is funny, how seriously lestat takes it. he bites back a laugh, although there are echoes of it in the thickness of his words, the way he half-stumbles over, ) I'm sorry. I didn't realise it was that important to you that you... ( david doesn't immediately finish the sentence, instead waves a hand distractedly. ) I don't know, play the part of a sommelier.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2026-05-10 10:58 am (UTC)maybe I'll dress up for the occasion.
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Date: 2026-05-10 11:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-05-10 11:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-05-10 11:14 am (UTC)If you wish for me to dress you up, all you need do is ask.
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Date: 2026-05-10 11:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-05-10 11:18 am (UTC)[ even though he's already selecting a few pieces on his phone to order in david's estimated size. ]
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Date: 2026-05-10 11:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-05-10 11:29 am (UTC)I don't wish to, though. It is a waste.
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Date: 2026-05-10 11:33 am (UTC)it suits the house.
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Date: 2026-05-10 11:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-05-10 11:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-05-10 11:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-05-10 11:48 am (UTC)the vibe. the atmosphere. don't be so dense.
( there is a reason all of his ""snoopys"" look like they've walked out of free people, lestat. )
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Date: 2026-05-10 11:55 am (UTC)Do let me know when you are willing to bleed, mon ami.
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Date: 2026-05-10 12:11 pm (UTC)later tonight? tomorrow? I don't care, but I do have some things to do first.
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Date: 2026-05-10 12:15 pm (UTC)Will you be prepared before midnight tonight? I must ensure my other thirsts are reasonably quenched before meeting, of course.
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Date: 2026-05-10 12:26 pm (UTC)but yes. I can manage before midnight.
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Date: 2026-05-10 12:31 pm (UTC)[ with newly bought outfits in tow, naturally. he may have to hide them near david's chambers though, or give them to a family member to offer at a later date.]
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Date: 2026-05-10 01:08 pm (UTC)the house itself is, though not quiet, quieter, and while david doesn't make a point of being out on the porch waiting for lestat — that'd imply a desperation, a kind of willingness and anticipation about his participation in this that he doesn't want to portray — the murmurs, whispers, excitement and something that david thinks borders on fondness, lets him know when lestat arrives. it's — annoying.
a blink, and he's next to lestat, mouth curved in a smile, soft and deliberate. he wouldn't be doing this if he weren't for the implicit threat — lenny — even if david's unable, incapable of acknowledging that it's not for her he's agreed to this, it's for himself.
one second. he's next to lestat for one second, his attention entirely on the vampire. he doesn't notice anything — or anyone, should the case be — else lestat might have arrived with, doesn't give even the slightest of glances to his own quote-unquote family. a hand reaching out to rest on lestat's arm, not a word in greeting, and then they're in david's cave. it's sparse as ever, the roof a mix of warm yellows and oranges (aesthetic—) and bathed in natural light from the sun that is in no way natural at all; pipes of blue liquid — as ever — circle the space.
while david had mentioned dressing up, lestat's rebuke, the way he'd spoken about david's choices in clothing, had all but ensured david's commitment to near-enough the only outfit lestat's ever seen him in.
he gestures towards a bench covered in cushions situated in a quaint, twee porch, not dissimilar to the one outside, just adorned only in primary colours. brighter. a small table sits in the middle, and david takes a seat on the bench opposite the one he'd gestured towards. he leans back against a wall, expectant.
a murmur— ) You don't need to call it a haven.
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Date: 2026-05-10 02:01 pm (UTC)so the vampire is disoriented already, having not caught any trace of david upon entering the compound only to near jump out of his skin at the sudden appearance. barely time for the scowl to bloom across his features before a gentle weight places on his arm and the world skips with a lurch.
has he ever been in david's sanctum? he doesn't believe so. surely he would recall the faux spotlight of sunlight. that he would be giving a very wide berth, just in case. ]
Is it not a haven? [ unable to help himself from playing the contrarian to any and all of david's statements. typical. daintily he pads to the offered bench, sleek black gift bag in hand. his plans to pass it off to one of the family had been thoroughly thwarted by the abrupt kidnapping. well. ] It is a shelter for your family, yes? Hallowed ground for you and your kin.
[ he slides into the bench, deposits the bag atop the surface and immediately rests his elbows on the table to lock david in with an expectant gaze. a wave of his hand to the bag, not bothering to look at it. ]
I could not resist indulging in a gift. Wear them or don't, the choice is yours.
[ rest assured david, the outfit inside could very much purchase a small island still. ]
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Date: 2026-05-10 03:57 pm (UTC)he cants his head, studying lestat for a moment, then two, silent, as if he might be able to pluck the contents from lestat without asking, while the curve of his smile deepens into something more sincere. )
Thank you. ( there is, clearly, a desire to open it, to assess the contents, but for now he doesn't: they're here because lestat wanted — well, whatever he wanted. the little drink. one reason they're in this space, his cave, rather than out there with his "family". ) Hallowed ground makes it sound pretentious. It's a home. Some of them haven't had that before, not in any way that matters. It's why I like calling us a family. ( he waves a hand, dismissive. ) You think it's funny, them calling me 'daddy', but... It's useful. Important. Fathers look after their family, their home, keep everything safe. That's what I do. It's not— a sex thing, or whatever else you think of it as.
( or: unacknowledged daddy issues run rampant in both david and nearly everyone he surrounds himself with.
his gaze slides away from lestat for a moment, towards the centre of the cave where sunlight hits the floor. dust motes dance in the air, and david presses his lips into a line before glancing back to lestat. the outside world, the world that's real everywhere else, is dark. it's night. david prefers daytime, but— ) It's not real. ( beat. ) Well, it's not the sun. It's real in every way that matters to me right now, to you, maybe, but it won't hurt you if you want to stand in it.
—Or would you prefer moonlight? ( the right side of his mouth tugs into a sly smile. he raises a hand, but does nothing yet other than offer, ) Ambience.
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Date: 2026-05-10 04:28 pm (UTC)admittedly the vampire is listening more to the thud of david's heart instead of his ramble about how his cult was a family, this was a home, some childish notion of the roles of fathers and their benevolence. clearly they had very different experiences as children. despite not wishing to sour their amicable mood, lestat's upper lip curls nastily, though he manages to blessedly refrain from making a snide correction. ]
It is a touch pretentious. And I would not mock you for a sex thing. [ a lazy mimicry of david's accent on the last two words. satisfying enough.comparing abandonment to physical abuse was not how he wished to ruin his small window of opportunity here, but a snipe couldn't hurt. ]
This room itself is impressive. As was your little disappearing-reappearing act. [ more flattery instead. lestat rests his chin atop the back of a hand, flutters long lashes at the smaller man. ] The natural spotlight is quaint, though. Whatever makes you most comfortable for what follows, chéri. It is you who will experience the bite, yes?
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Date: 2026-05-10 05:09 pm (UTC)so, then, he ignores lestat's intonation, his lazy parroting of david's words in favour of looking around the space they sit in, like it's the first time he's seen it. he's appreciative of lestat's praise, and it's reflected in the self-satisfied hum the remark earns in response. it is impressive and he likes it a lot. if lestat had offered a dissenting opinion, then—
—well, things would be quite different. )
Sometimes the house gets loud, ( david remarks, attention circling back round to lestat, like lestat had asked the question as to why. ) Solitude and space to think are helpful.
( he clicks his thumb and forefinger together, the sound echoing for longer than the acoustics of the space would naturally allow, and david slides back off the bench, the soles of his boots hitting the ground with a quiet thud as the sunlight changes to moonlight. the subtle, silver glow emphasises the blue liquid running in pipes, but david looks up as he walks to the centre of the room, eyeing the small display of stars visible. mildly, he thinks he should do this more often.
(the moonlight, not the other thing.) )
Teleportation is just about thinking, you know? Here, there, turning the second thing into the first thing. It's—. ( he waves a hand over his shoulder. ) Like breathing. You don't think about it, you just do it.
( he turns on the spot, finally turning back to face lestat. )
It'll be my blood, but... Did we agree on biting? It's a drink. They go in cups. Or glasses.
no subject
Date: 2026-05-11 09:02 am (UTC)now glowing in the pale moonlight, blue neon of the liquid piped through casting soft cool hues onto david's skin, gleaming off the tendons in his hands as he gestures. the thought of biting into him whilst he looks so appetizing is causing lestat's fangs to sharpen in his mouth already. part curiosity, part hunger. partly the ambiance, presenting david as a delectable specimen to be devoured.
all the talk about teleportation is a reminder that the vampire had to be patient, else the psychic would simply blink out of his grasp. something to keep in mind as he rises from the booth too, settling back to lean his hips against the table. ready to move if invited. ]
--What? [ flatly, dismay etched all over his face. ] No, no, it is part of the petit coup. There is no artistry in the bleeding without the bite, no pleasure to be taken from the sweet sting of teeth.
[ he's irritated by the idea, even. this would technically work, yes - but where was the seduction? the drama? ] You would prepare all this - this fucking ambiance - and then opt for a lack of passion? No sensuality?
It is blood, you must treat it with respect. Not simply tap and pour like a cheap boxed wine. [ he's definitely had his share of irreverence, but that wasn't the point. enjoying a moment of power over the other man, that was the point. and the investigation of his memory and mind, of course. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-05-11 09:32 am (UTC)you have to be careful with what you share with someone else, or else it can be turned against you. used to hurt you. he hasn't said it, but that's what he thinks was in the pages of molloy's book, what louis had seemed to miss, what lestat's never said (and why would he? david certainly hasn't asked).
he only half-expects lestat's rebuke. his teeth are bright, visible in the moonlight as he speaks, the enunciation of his words irritated, insistent. david blinks, eyes wide, and his brows knit momentarily, a question he doesn't bother to interrupt lestat to ask as lestat continues.
it is funny, how seriously lestat takes it. he bites back a laugh, although there are echoes of it in the thickness of his words, the way he half-stumbles over, ) I'm sorry. I didn't realise it was that important to you that you... ( david doesn't immediately finish the sentence, instead waves a hand distractedly. ) I don't know, play the part of a sommelier.
—Did you name it? You never actually answered me.
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