Ravages of a hurricane, ravages of time. A bleak little tour. Or, perhaps not. They'll be doing it alongside one another, and,
he feels a little out of time, still. A little human blood and a calm day's sleep has cleared away much of the fog, but the mystery remains as to Louis' presence here. Something happened, and Lestat doesn't know what, and the longer they go on this way, the longer it might feel a little less real. As if he couldn't dream up the circumstances in which Louis realised the truth of things and came to visit him, and so, he continues to push it away.
But, no. It is only that he doesn't yet know. It is only that Louis hasn't wished to discuss it yet.
"Cafe Lafitte moved several buildings down from where it was," he imparts. "But it continues. Bourbon Street has retained its charms with a death grip. A little kitsch, now. One plays jazz to play jazz, not to be the hot new thing."
Trailing his fingertips down Louis' arm. "The Azalea is a hotel. But you probably knew that."
no subject
he feels a little out of time, still. A little human blood and a calm day's sleep has cleared away much of the fog, but the mystery remains as to Louis' presence here. Something happened, and Lestat doesn't know what, and the longer they go on this way, the longer it might feel a little less real. As if he couldn't dream up the circumstances in which Louis realised the truth of things and came to visit him, and so, he continues to push it away.
But, no. It is only that he doesn't yet know. It is only that Louis hasn't wished to discuss it yet.
"Cafe Lafitte moved several buildings down from where it was," he imparts. "But it continues. Bourbon Street has retained its charms with a death grip. A little kitsch, now. One plays jazz to play jazz, not to be the hot new thing."
Trailing his fingertips down Louis' arm. "The Azalea is a hotel. But you probably knew that."