[open] a birthday celebration

[perfectdevil]

WHO: lestat & all of you~
WHAT: lestat is hosting a party for a certain someone's birthday!
WHERE: a bistro in district 3
WHEN: october 4th
WARNINGS: N/A so far. will update as needed!



[ In the early morning hours of the 4th of October, a photograph of a handwritten notice goes up on the network. It’s in flowery but surprisingly legible script, as if he’s learnt to create letters purely by reading them and has jumbled together an amalgamation of different typefaces to make each letter he writes as interesting as possible. The details are as follows: ]

This is an invitation to any and all, to attend a soirée this evening, in celebration of my companion’s birthday.

I’ve attached a photograph of the location; a fashionable little bistro highly recommended to me by someone who clearly knows a thing or two about style. Festivities start at 6 o’clock this evening, though you are more than welcome to be fashionably late. We will go until sunrise. The dress code is: eye-catching.

There will be food, there will be wine, there will be merriment. Games, dancing, live music. Who amongst you could turn their nose up at a free bar and the chance to boogie? I know that technically this entire place is a free bar, what with the distinct lack of economy, but I’ve acquired the assistance of a bartender, just to tempt you…

And, failing all else, there’s the certainty of stunning conversation - and isn’t that something that we all can enjoy, even those of us who don’t groove with the party scene?

Be there, or be square.


xoxo

[ Some of you might remember him posting asking for help planning this little get together, and it’s going ahead with all of Lestat’s best intentions for a night to remember. Whether you know him or don’t (and haven’t been put off by his hip use of old slang he still thinks makes him sound cool) you’ll be welcomed to the festivities with open arms and a warm, sharp smile.

Come on down, don’t be shy. Have a little dance with the devil. ]

The Bar

[ Gleaming in hard wood painted a stunning chic black, the bar is the first thing to delight your eyes with upon entering the bistro. Bottles line the back wall, shining in the low amber lights, and so too the bottles lined up in front as your gracious bartender for the evening, Daan, sets up shop. Perhaps you have a drink in mind, or would like him to surprise you (with varying results), or maybe you’re here for the crowd gathered around and chatting amicably as they nurse their chosen poison.

Lestat himself has taken up prime position there, often with a rather steadfast arm around Louis, whose expression isn’t exactly dour but isn’t particularly placid, either. He gives off the very clear expression of someone who’s been tricked into coming here under false pretences. Probably because Lestat had been positively evasive of even mentioning the B word (birthday) all evening, even going as far as to ignore completely any mention of Louis discovering his plotting before tonight… though whether that be from embarrassment over failing to make his post private despite Armand’s very clear instructions, or simply down to his impish nature, isn’t clear.

What is clear, is that Lestat is having a lovely time in wonderful company, and is a veritable font of energy. He’s usually pretty upbeat, of course, but tonight there’s a particular vigour about him that is clearly different, though not in a strictly bad way. When he’s not hanging off Louis’ side or parading him around to introduce him to people he hasn't met yet, Lestat is leaning over the bar to watch Daan work, or perhaps butting into a nearby conversation or starting a fresh one up with someone looking a little too quiet. ]

The Stage & Dancefloor

[ Great care and attention has been made to stagger the assortment of tables in the room so that each one has a perfect view of the man-made stage and its attached square of space serving as a dance floor. It’s nothing more than a few flat platforms on which the players can stand along with a wall of lined up instruments and some speakers Lestat found at the music store in the mall, but it’s unmistakably the intended highlight of the evening's entertainment.

A dark blue electric guitar beside an acoustic one, a simple spruce violin, a small drum set, a standing keyboard and three microphones is his haul, and they are left available for anyone who'd like to jam. If Lestat sees you looking with the barest hint of interest, even if there is not a single musical bone in your body, if he will pull you over to try something out - what better way to learn than in a room full of people watching you? :)

Toward the middle of the evening, Lestat will take Louis' hands in his own and kiss them, and then kiss him, and leave to climb up onto the stage himself. He’s dressed in a burgundy corduroy jacket over a crisp black shirt; the collar undone to reveal a host of twisted chains at his throat, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his wrists and fingers adorned with similar finery. Tight leather pants, and black boots with a red sole. His nails are painted black, and there’s a smudge of dark red around his eyes, which makes the pale silver-blue of them look almost eerie in the spotlight. (Well, he did say eye-catching was the dress code.)

He’ll take the microphone, lift the electric guitar into his arms and begins to play, and to sing. It’s a cover arrangement, of course, as anyone who enjoys 70s rock music will be able to tell.. but he sings it well, with a practised and enchanting stage presence that is hard to look away from; snaking hips, spectacular crowd work. No, it’s not his vampiric thrall (probably), it’s just that Lestat really was born to perform and he knows it.

He also picks out another song to play a little later on, assuring the crowd very loudly that they must keep this song's existence a complete secret and then "accidentally" name-dropping Steve Tyler as the guy he was jamming with when the song was created. ]

Party Games

[ Lestat has assigned a little space toward the back of the room and has littered the tables with a handful of silly party games, packages of cards, even a small set of plastic chips for gambling (though what exactly the ante will be is entirely up to you). It looks very much like he’s raided the toy aisle in a supermarket which… isn’t untrue, but he’s done so with at least a little care and attention for what kind of party he’d like this to be. There’s no board games, put it that way.

Who Am I?: Take a sticky-note and ask someone to write the name of a famous figure on it, and stick it on your back. You must walk around and ask the other patrons of the party yes/no questions in order to figure out who you are.
Treasure Hunt: Take a paper from the table; on it you'll find a series of descriptions such as "Someone who's favourite colour is blue" or "Someone who has siblings", "someone who's broken someone's heart" etc. Talk to party goers until you find a person who matches each prompt. You may only use one person once. The winner gets a prize!

Bulla has graciously offered to host a round or two of games for all in attendance; the assortment will be varied and both she and Lestat will be no doubt open to any suggestions of things to play. If you aren’t the type to get involved in such things, it’s quite unfortunate because oh, it looks like this one needs a partner and here is Lestat without one! ]

The Veranda

[The way outside through the large glass doors at the back of the bistro is lit in an almost storybook manner, with lights pinned from the doorway to the exterior fence in loose criss-crosses. The furniture has been moved to accommodate a large table running down the centre of the floor, full to bursting with plates of food. It seems the intention here is similar to a “pot-luck” - a concept that has Lestat gleeful as a child over the absurdity of such a thing - only as this place has no real necessity for cooking and as Lestat has no idea what kind of food typically is seen at parties, the guidance is simply to go into the kitchen and take advantage of its seemingly unending capabilities in order to emerge with a bowl, plate or tray of whatever you deem appropriate for a party such as this.

Obviously, this has resulted in the table being full of an incredibly disorganised array of treats in all shapes and colour - which naturally has attracted Lesat into staring at it all like a magpie, asking questions of every meal that people pick at, questioning the flavour and the method of preparation, all the while twisting a glass bottle of some thick scarlet substance around and around in his hands. ]

--
[ happy birthday louis!!! feel free to mingle, thread-hop, eavesdrop, do whatever you'd like. go wild. it's a party!

lestat is down for anything, so if you want to assume your character has made a playlist, brought a game along, has suggested a party game and is bullying people into playing it, or even if you want to assume that lestat saw you in the street nearby and whisked you in to the bistro against your will, please go for it. literally anything goes, i am SO easy and so is lestat. :) ]

Comments

[100more]

[ A nightclub could be exactly what this place needs. Hob would certainly visit one, especially if there was music.

Though Lestat moves a touch closer, Hob doesn't seem bothered by it. It's flattering to be so close to such a stunning person. ]

Well, they say vampires don't like garlic. And they can't be in the sun. What are your thoughts on those?

[perfectdevil]

Well.. I must admit, I am quite the night owl. It seems to me that people have more fun the later in the day it is - whether their inhibitions are weaker when the sun goes down, or whether it's some other strange phenomena, I don't know.. but because of that, I naturally prefer to be out when it's dark.

[ He's not lying, not even in the slightest. Though he is definitely avoiding the truth. It's more fun this way. ]

And I'm not the biggest fan of garlic. I'm French, you know, we prefer more subtle flavours.

[100more]

[ It does feel a little as though the man is dancing around the subject, perhaps for his own amusement. Hob doesn't actually mind, if that's the case. He can have his fun, and Hob is enjoying the company. ]

Then do you do anything for work, monsieur?

[ If he prefers to be out late, that could make a regular day job difficult. The note about garlic gets an amused smile. Lestat stepped around that clue, as well. ]

[perfectdevil]

[ Oh-ho, Lestat sees where that leading question is going, but luckily he has an answer prepared for this exact situation, and it isn't even a lie! Bonus points.

He grins, entirely too self-satisfied but somehow still very handsome, and replies: ]

I'm a rock star.

[100more]

A rock star?

[ Hob isn't sure if the man is pulling his leg or not, but he did have an incredible display of talent. ]

One who is new to crowds and the stage? I would doubt it, but I did just hear your singing.

[perfectdevil]

[ Lestat laughs this airy laugh where he bats himself on the chest and then gives Hob a soft pat on the shoulder, as if to admonish him for the compliment. In actual fact it couldn't be further from the truth; he's easy to pay compliments to, and he never gets sick of hearing them. ]

I just had my first concert in Death Valley before arriving here, now that you mention it. So I suppose I am a little green.. but I've never liked to waste time being adequate when I could be the best, you know? My band and I were almost an instant success thanks to my careful study of current rock music.

What profession were you expecting me to have? Some rich nobleman with nothing better to do than talk philosophy and morality while staring into my large fireplace, waiting for innocent humans to knock at my door in the middle of the night, looking to use my phone?

[ He's being very obvious about his teasing now, but that's Lestat in a nutshell. ]

[100more]

[ Sometimes, one can tell how another will receive compliments. He didn't think Lestat would mind. A momentary glance is passed to the hand on his shoulder, but Hob doesn't flinch or tense up, and he doesn't object to it being there.

The description of what he expected earns a soft chuckle under his breath. ]

Maybe something like that. Perhaps in another life, then. Before there were rock stars.

[perfectdevil]

Maybe indeed, in a time when I could have been nothing more than the son of a Marquis who went out hunting every few days in the snow, just to put food on the table, with lofty dreams of being an actor in the Big City.

[ It's oddly specific, he knows, but he doesn't care too much; if Hob picks up on his truth, so be it. He likes this guy, which is probably all the explanation that's needed for why he's standing so close and being so handsy. Lestat's just also kind of Like This, honestly. He gives him a grin, and then a surveying upwards tilt of his head. ]

And what about you, my friend? What's your story? Spin me a little tale.

[100more]

I can picture that.

[ He figures Lestat is just good at spinning his own tales. The man is a performer, after all. He must have a deep streak of creativity, as a result. ]

My story? Not all that remarkable, I'm afraid. I did some military service, and now I teach history at a university in London. If only my students would be as engrossed in my lectures as they would be at your concerts.

[perfectdevil]

[ Lestat's eyes flash at that - a soldier - and he looks even more interested in Hob, if such a thing were possible. ]

Ah, you'll never encourage the same lust for knowledge that you will for rock music.. and to be quite honest, I don't think you'd want to. Rock music appreciation tends to be quite loud, you know. Not the sort of volume that lends itself well to a university classroom.

[100more]

[ Hob smiles, able to imagine what a rock music seminar might be like. Lestat would be the most impressive guest speaker in the history of the university, and he's sure most if not all of his students would fall head over heels for him. ]

There's a time and a place to appreciate everything. I certainly appreciate you giving everyone an open invitation to this party.

[perfectdevil]

Of course, de rien. This place has spoken quite emphatically to the social creature in me.

[ He says with a casual shrug, before his eyes wander somewhere over Hob's shoulder and delight on the very subject of this party with a pleased glisten of their silver colour in reaction. ]

And I thought it's high time Louis make himself better known here after being here so long. I think he needed this evening much more than I did, no matter how he might argue, but I'm happy for the excuse either way.

[100more]

[ Hob doesn't have to look to know where Louis' eyes go. He can see the affection in them for the other man. It's touching. ]

You two must be very close. I can tell you're incredibly fond of him.

[ There's a warmth in Hob's voice. ]

[perfectdevil]

[ Lestat's eyes go back to Hob, retaining some of their molten quality for all of a moment, and fascinated with the way people seem to say nothing but a similar sentiment this evening. You're very close, you must be each others type, you obviously care for him so much.. Lestat can't recall the amount of times, but it's enough that it's become quite apparent to him as something that is stark to the mortals around them. ]

Of course. I love him.

[ He says it very plainly, very matter of fact. It isn't like he hasn't told anyone - he's written a whole goddamn book basically on the subject - and has told Louis to his face, so this is no big deal for him. But he is curious. ]

Tell me - is it unusual for a pair of companions to be the way Louis and I are?

[100more]

[ When it's so apparant, people can't help but notice or comment on it. Such plain feelings fill the room with warmth. Maybe there's a little longing or envy, too, from others.

Hob lifts his brow at the question, as though Lestat's behavior were far more natural. ]

In a way. Most people find it hard to profess their feelings for one another. Others are more private about it. I think it would be better if people were more open like you and Louis, but that's harder than it sounds.

[perfectdevil]

[ Lestat considers that for a moment, particularly the part about it being difficult to profess one's feelings. ]

I feel like I should agree with you when you say that it is more difficult than it might seem, but in my experience I've come to learn a very valuable lesson about matters of the heart. All it comes down to is honesty, and whether you are reluctant to tell the truth or not.

[ Lestat had been reluctant with every fledgling he'd had, everyone he'd ever loved, even Louis himself for a time; until he read his book and everything seemed to slot into place, and he realised what a monumental fool he'd been, that he could have had exactly what he wanted all along if he'd just opened his heart. ]

Though I suppose honesty can be difficult, too. I'm no saint, I've made my mistakes, and Louis and I still have our moments, of course. But it's much easier now we've been honest with one another.

[100more]

[ Hob nods in understanding. Lestat is right, of course. He thinks it can be more difficult for some, though. After all, being upfront and honest with others is risky for Hob, and how many would not even believe him if he said he were immortal? Sure, people here might, but back home is a different story. ]

I can only hope to challenge your courage when the time comes.