"In two days. I'm taking the train, it's a midnight to 5 am trip, but you get let off inside the station, so. Car to the hotel garage. Fun."
Lestat has made his own way so far, and how, Daniel hasn't asked. Flying under his own power? Like Superman, who isn't real? Red eye flights? His business. He's made his own accommodations because he has to get this stuff down and because, honestly, he's used to it. Daniel has assistants and editors and research staffers, proteges, but he's always figured most things out on his own. A nosy detective looking for stories.
"You're welcome to join me."
Which would be... a little buddy-buddy, and it would probably make Daniel feel slightly insane, like contending with Orange Julius in the northeast 2020s (it's a pop-up thing, a flier taped to a kiosk says). But still, welcome. Especially since Talamasca's freaking out, because that's just funny. EHhem. He'll look into those missed texts soon. Maybe.
The end of the cigarette glows and embers as soon as the other is between his teeth, a little wisp of acrid smoke into the perfumed mall air on their way towards the door. (A moment where the nearest security guard seems about to say something, and stalls when Lestat glances his way with a cold and digging look. It induces a spike of terror, a jelly-legged step backwards, and his jaw pinching closed.) The automatic doors slide on the rails.
Internal and external CCTV probably fed to the Talamasca, ever-watching. Just a man and his son-in-law, the latter of whom offers out his pack of smokes to take from, and tucks his hands into the pockets of his coat.
Considers Daniel, this next act of kindness. Even in ways he doesn't mean, maybe, although who can say with writers? Not a do you want to?, just a welcome, an open door.
Smiles around the cigarette, sharp and sudden, and sweeps it between his fingers. "D'accord," Lestat says. "I will join you at the station, if you survive until then."
Sardonic. It's a vampire eat vampire world. But Lestat has perfect faith in this outcome, which is maybe conveyed in the way he says goodbye: a step forward, an unexpected closeness through the smooth motion that carries him into the kiss that grazes Daniel's cheek, and then a pivot to send him on his way with an authoritative clop of boot heels against pavement.
Daniel accepts a cigarette, nimble fingers despite everything. (Still were, still, in between tremors. Just on the edge of downhill, staring at it, clinging to the edge.) The end sparks up on its own as they pass over the threshold of the sliding doors with their cheery chime.
"We'll see."
Survival.
He's thinking about—
Drama queen, more deliberate this time, loud and startled in his head. A funny look at Lestat. Something unsaid, right there, but on the heels of such antics, now isn't the time. The elder vampire's business his is own, for the rest of the night. He pulls the cigarette from his mouth, exhaling, and tips his head back in a farewell.
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no subject
Lestat has made his own way so far, and how, Daniel hasn't asked. Flying under his own power? Like Superman, who isn't real? Red eye flights? His business. He's made his own accommodations because he has to get this stuff down and because, honestly, he's used to it. Daniel has assistants and editors and research staffers, proteges, but he's always figured most things out on his own. A nosy detective looking for stories.
"You're welcome to join me."
Which would be... a little buddy-buddy, and it would probably make Daniel feel slightly insane, like contending with Orange Julius in the northeast 2020s (it's a pop-up thing, a flier taped to a kiosk says). But still, welcome. Especially since Talamasca's freaking out, because that's just funny. EHhem. He'll look into those missed texts soon. Maybe.
no subject
Internal and external CCTV probably fed to the Talamasca, ever-watching. Just a man and his son-in-law, the latter of whom offers out his pack of smokes to take from, and tucks his hands into the pockets of his coat.
Considers Daniel, this next act of kindness. Even in ways he doesn't mean, maybe, although who can say with writers? Not a do you want to?, just a welcome, an open door.
Smiles around the cigarette, sharp and sudden, and sweeps it between his fingers. "D'accord," Lestat says. "I will join you at the station, if you survive until then."
Sardonic. It's a vampire eat vampire world. But Lestat has perfect faith in this outcome, which is maybe conveyed in the way he says goodbye: a step forward, an unexpected closeness through the smooth motion that carries him into the kiss that grazes Daniel's cheek, and then a pivot to send him on his way with an authoritative clop of boot heels against pavement.
"Thank you for the gifts," over a shoulder.
no subject
"We'll see."
Survival.
He's thinking about—
Drama queen, more deliberate this time, loud and startled in his head. A funny look at Lestat. Something unsaid, right there, but on the heels of such antics, now isn't the time. The elder vampire's business his is own, for the rest of the night. He pulls the cigarette from his mouth, exhaling, and tips his head back in a farewell.
"Later, man."