Lestat, meanwhile, is holding onto Roy Travis' face with a cage of claws pressing bleeding pinholes around his chin, eyes black and fangs long.
And looking through him, an irrelevant puppet of meat and bile. It might even physically hurt, the measure of his gaze, piercing past panicked eyes, drilling into grey matter. Lestat is not attuned to the struggle occurring in his ex-husband's head right now, hearing the faint echo of Daniel's thoughts. The scent of ash, the scent of cooked flesh.
Gets the sense of a fashionable but empty apartment. Gets the sense of Armand standing tall and calm at the window. Of reflective lights, of city shapes.
Gets the sense of a flinch.
(Armand, who is holding open a metal door, letting the sunlight through into Louis' brain, the blazing conviction that Daniel is his, that Daniel is intrigued by him, that Daniel has yet to turn him away, Daniel who he will never leave alone despite Louis' worthless commands of him—
And the door closes, a shock, like he was not holding it open at all but barely keeping it from slamming with the tips of his fingers, and he is gone from Louis' mind.)
But not yet from Roy Travis. The sense of Armand pulling back for a clean withdraw.
And he does, but rather than flicking an empty hook out from the ocean, a megalodon breaks through the waves. In the reflection of Armand's highrise window, Lestat is almost visible, all fangs and wild golden curls, launching himself for Armand's throat in a wild lashing of psychic claws and teeth that also feels like a slice across the neck, a slow and loving bloodletting, and also like a tender kiss to the forehead, so nice to see you again after all this time.
In the hallway, Lestat tosses his head back to laugh. We have fun here. He is so angry at everyone.
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And looking through him, an irrelevant puppet of meat and bile. It might even physically hurt, the measure of his gaze, piercing past panicked eyes, drilling into grey matter. Lestat is not attuned to the struggle occurring in his ex-husband's head right now, hearing the faint echo of Daniel's thoughts. The scent of ash, the scent of cooked flesh.
Gets the sense of a fashionable but empty apartment. Gets the sense of Armand standing tall and calm at the window. Of reflective lights, of city shapes.
Gets the sense of a flinch.
(Armand, who is holding open a metal door, letting the sunlight through into Louis' brain, the blazing conviction that Daniel is his, that Daniel is intrigued by him, that Daniel has yet to turn him away, Daniel who he will never leave alone despite Louis' worthless commands of him—
And the door closes, a shock, like he was not holding it open at all but barely keeping it from slamming with the tips of his fingers, and he is gone from Louis' mind.)
But not yet from Roy Travis. The sense of Armand pulling back for a clean withdraw.
And he does, but rather than flicking an empty hook out from the ocean, a megalodon breaks through the waves. In the reflection of Armand's highrise window, Lestat is almost visible, all fangs and wild golden curls, launching himself for Armand's throat in a wild lashing of psychic claws and teeth that also feels like a slice across the neck, a slow and loving bloodletting, and also like a tender kiss to the forehead, so nice to see you again after all this time.
In the hallway, Lestat tosses his head back to laugh. We have fun here. He is so angry at everyone.