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citylogs2023-10-04 06:38 pm
perfectdevil) wrote in citylogs2023-10-04 06:38 pm
[open] a birthday celebration
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: ]
Come on down, don’t be shy. Have a little dance with the devil. ]
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. ]
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. ]
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. :) ]
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.[ 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.
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
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.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! ]
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!
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. :) ]
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[ It's said without a hint of irony, a shadow passing across Armand's features, before he rolls his glass between his hands and scans over her shoulder briefly, gaze alighting on the man in question and Armand smiles. ]
Ah but yes, dear Louis - he is a good person to know.
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[ Equally unironic. She thinks of the man who said he couldn't talk to god anymore; she thinks of the mall. They may not all be mad, here, but it feels like a stretch to say everyone is keeping sane. ]
So you know him? From outside the City?
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A fair point - And yes. We are from the same world, similar in time also. I've know Louis for close to 100 years now I believe..
[ Daunting that thought. So much time to a mortal - not a small amount to a Vampire of their generation either - and tentative around each other even now, alas. ]
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You're a lot more up front about your ... age ... than he is.
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You know what I am, I see little reason to mask the particulars of our nature..
[ He shrugs.]
Besides, it is harder here to play at being mortal. Less opportunities to drink my fill, means that I will always look 'other' to mortals, in a way that Louis does not. The older or more powerful we are, the less we have that luxury.
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No, I think I know what you mean. [ The statue-like stillness, the cold skin. ] I don't get it, though, what's the correlation between drinking your fill and how you look?
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"Other" as in "Undead", dear lady. And you didn't notice during our time together? [ He smirks, leaning in to press their shoulders together. ] The more we drink, the more 'mortal' we appear - flushed, warm - our flesh softer, though certainly not everywhere. [ Yes he's being crude ] We pass for the living under these new lights far easier as well.
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[ She's a little surprised to find herself happy to lean against him in return. If she squints, though, she can tell herself it's more about wanting to fuck him again than it is about any deeper feelings, like "affection" or "loneliness" or "the human need for touch and support." ]
I guess I didn't give it much thought at the time. Figured it had warmed up because of the champion fingering.
[ You wanna see crude? Constantine has you covered. ]
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Well that, certainly, but a charming woman looking for a good time and you are surprised when a Vampire answers her summons? Of course I agreed. Your enthusiasm towards the rest of my nature was more than encouraging though, I will admit..
[ Usually mortals are so strongly pulled under by his thrall - it was only his Daniel that he held back with - and in this place it requires more effort so he's not bothered, so this similar attraction and fascination is quite flattering. ]
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[ Well, probably not since about 2006 when she had it out with Kenneth who managed the place. There were about two months before that where she took an idiot 19-year-old's pride in it, though. ]
So I guess we're both allowing that it happened, hm.
[ They hadn't talked about what "no strings attached" would look like. Johanna had drifted off not too long after Armand fed. And even if she'd stayed awake until he left, the conversation would only have covered "do you want me to acknowledge you in public or not" -- then and now, Johanna would steadfastly deny being in any danger of feeling fondness. ]
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[ His tone is genuine - it's not something that really impacts Armand himself, but he understands it is different for mortals - and he's still not au fait with all of the connections in the city to spot the potential issues. The ability, in his own world, to quite literally read a room with minimal effort, has very obviously made him complacent in this regard. ]
Is there a jealous lover I should be aware of, hm?
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Be news to me if there were.
[ Though her gaze travels over the party again, lingers for a moment on Lestat as he bends his charm on some other guest. No, she doubts he's the jealous type. And if he is, too bad, he's the one who left her passed out on the couch with nary a word.
(The fact that sneaking out without a goodbye is, like, the very definition of no strings attached, and also a move she has employed herself more than once including in long-term situationships, is irrelevant to her feelings about it.) ]
I don't want there to be any obligation, is all. [ She looks back to Armand with a small, crooked smile. ] Nothing gets in the way of good dishonest fun like it.
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[ With mortals at least and especially so early in an acquaintance. Even amongst his Vampire kin, Armand can count perhaps only three that would summon a sense of necessity from him. He smiles back, lifting his drink to clink Johanna's glass in a little toast and takes a sip - he's miming the action but it's so incredibly well practiced it's difficult to tell either way. ]
To good dishonest fun.
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[ She tosses back a healthy swallow of her own drink, and looks at him in surprise when he sips his. ]
Hang on, is that--?
[ No, come on, if it were actually blood she'd smell it, right? ]
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Would you like to find out?
[ He's absolutely bluffing - Daan mixed his drink, just as he had hers - there's been no time to switch the drinks out, still he's feeling mischievous. ]
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... Yeah that's tomato juice. ]
You utter prat.
[ Since she has the glass already, she does take a sip. Bloody Marys are emphatically not her thing, but it's mostly about the power play at this point. ]
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If only we could be so free with the blood, but alas. [ He shrugs, not really that bothered. He has at least a small concept of what most everything here tastes like - experiencing most of them through his lovers mind over the years, but he's still curious. ]
It is good at least?
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[ She take another sip and shakes her head. Horseradish! ]
So do you not eat or drink anything else? Just-- [ She taps a couple fingers on her pulse, just over the edge of her turtleneck. ]
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Yes, nothing else. It is all our bodies need and mortal food is now...well, it's intolerable to even try to consume it. Perhaps another 'point' against my transfiguration hm?
[ He has absolutely no doubt that Johanna is keeping a mental tally - no hard on's, no food - whatever next! ]
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[ He's definitely got her number. The price of immortality seems steep to her so far, if you can't manage it the way Hob Gadling did. ]
Can you still taste things, if you don't swallow, or does everything taste bad, too?
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No, unfortunately. I can, however experience food and drink through mortals - I know what most modern things taste like in this manner. My lover was very accommodating in letting me use the mind gift to feel such things alongside him.
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Damn. There goes my clever excuse to kiss you.
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[ Armand leans in further, hand coming to rest on the bar besides Johanna's and face close to hers but no further, though his gaze flits down to her mouth and back up in clear invitation. ]
Take what you wish..
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No jealous lover of yours to worry about?
[ Her voice is low and amused, her breath warm on his lips before she closes the distance and gives him a soft kiss. You couldn't call it chaste, exactly, but it is at least decorous. ]
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