[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

[perfectdevil]

[ Lestat is off nattering in someone's ear right up until the moment he hears those unmistakeable chords, and his head spins around like a dog eagerly hearing the summoning whistle of its master. He peers through the crowd, and though his vampire eyes make it easy to see that it isn't, his little fanboy heart is sure that if he squints he can see Jimmy Page himself up there with the guitar in hand. The same hairstyle, for certain, if the wrong colour and the face slightly too young. No matter.

Lestat is at the side of the stage in moments, just as much a member of the small cheering crowd as any, and only approaches onto the stage itself once the song is over. ]

I've never felt so alive-- [ He coos. If only Eddie were aware what a silly thing that is for Lestat to say but, anywayyyyy. ] You play like you owe the music your life, I love it.

Tell me- do you know any Black Sabbath?

[thefreak]

( There's always a rush of adrenaline that accompanies his performance. It's probably to be expected since a certain kind of vulnerability comes with performing for strangers. And sure, he has been known to hop onto cafeteria tables and preach about the dangers of forced conformity, but when it's just him and his guitar, he wants people to like him and his music.

So when he wraps up the first song, he is pretty out of breath, hair wildly draping across his face, which he fixes with a flick of his head. He spots Lestat, a manic grin forming at the compliments. ) You know, sometimes it really does feel that way.

( He then balks at the question that follows. ) Do I know any Black Sabbath, he asks? Are we talking Ozzy or Dio era? Pick your poison.

[perfectdevil]

[ Lestat has come straight from a time when all these various rock magicians would spin their tales of great mystery and tragic love on every radio and every TV screen around, and where everyone has heard their names and has heard their music... to this place where people call him and his taste 'old-fashioned'. For a creature who, by design, does everything he can to stay fashionable and relevant it may as well be an insult, and don't even get him started on the amount of people who claim they haven't ever heard rock music, let alone the name of his beloved rock gods.

With all this in mind, then, it's not hard to understand why he's looking at Eddie like he's unlocked a door Lestat didn't know was there. ]

I wasn't so sure when Heaven and Hell was released, the sound was so different, but something about the namesake of that album - that song, the lead guitar... I have to confess, it spoke to me.

[ So much so, apparently, that it's what has him reaching over the side of a nearby amp to retrieve a second electric guitar seemingly from nowhere. It's nothing particularly extravagant in terms of model, but it looks very flashy with a sparkling red finish to the lacquer, and he's even managed to find a hilarious black strap with red detailing on it that looks like oozing blood. This he lifts over his head and readies his hands at the neck and body of the instrument, as if he's been dying to do it all evening. He gives Eddie a look. ]

What, you really thought I'd let my guitar be left up here for anyone to use? Surely you must understand my protective nature and know why I couldn't let that happen. [ He needs no pick, because the flash of his glass-like nails are more precise than any tool could ever be, and he poises a hand over the strings now. ] Care to jam, monsieur?

[thefreak]

I'll never forget that -- six years ago, it came out. I got into an argument with my friend Jeff, who's an Ozzy diehard, but me? Man, it's a crying shame my battle vest didn't make it here; I used a Dio shirt for the back. ( He looks equal parts excited and sorrowful. He doesn't regret giving the vest to Harrington; it was the least he could do then, but damn if he doesn't miss that, as if it were his security blanket.

He's so caught up in his thoughts he doesn't register that Lestat has hopped up on stage to join him. His eyes widen at the guitar that he holds in his hands. It reminds him a tiny bit of his Warlock, mainly in terms of color, and if he hasn't already been feeling incredibly nostalgic up until this point, the thoughts of his sweetheart are really starting to tug at his heartstrings.

If nothing else, he hopes that stupid guitar made it out okay. )

Trust me, you do not have to explain. If anyone so much as breathed wrong on my sweetheart, they would have gotten an earful. ( He grins as he takes the guitar pick off the necklace he wears around his neck and waggles his eyebrows playfully. ) I thought you'd never ask.

[perfectdevil]

[ The more Eddie talks and shares about himself, the more Lestat is certain he's found a kindred spirit in him.

That comment about the years since the albums' release should put them at a similar time frame in their own worlds, too, shouldn't it? Lestat can remember seeing plenty of youngsters in denim jackets with the arms yanked clean off or pinned back onto the body with safety pins, covered in patches and amalgamations of metal band t-shirts, all crowding around the small TV in the music store that played the newest music video films, them whooping and cheering when Lestat lifted his guitar into the sky or skidded across the stage in his leather pants...

Lestat starts playing the opening chords to Rainbow In The Dark because he figures that if Eddie is a fan, he's sure to know this melody without being told -- and raises his voice ever so slightly above the sound of it through the speakers as he talks: ]

Tell me, what year is it where you come from? For me, it's 1985. Anthrax have just released 'Spreading the Disease', about a week ago when I was brought here.

[thefreak]

( The moment Lestat starts in on Rainbow in the Dark, Eddie goes a little quiet. He hasn't heard that song in so long. He had even convinced himself he would never hear it again, relying only on his memory of the melody to get him by.

And here Lestat is, recreating it perfectly. There might even be the prickling of tears in Eddie's eyes, so overjoyed that he gets to hear the song that, if Vecna had cursed him, would have been the thing to save him.

He clears his throat when he realizes Lestat is asking him a question. )

1986. March, to be exact. Metallica just released a new album and shit. You would have loved it.

( As if Eddie could have forgotten the familiar opening to that album's titular song that he had scoured over for weeks so that he could learn how to play it on guitar. And so he gives Lestat a little taste of what he would have heard. )

[perfectdevil]

[ Oh, Lestat knows the look in those eyes as they watch his fingers summon such sweet chords all too well; Lestat can confidently say he owes his life to rock music, to metal and to the sound made by the strings of a guitar, and he would be a liar if he claimed that he'd never wept at the sound of a particularly moving piece of music.

He almost feels the urge to reach out and put a hand on Eddie's shoulder in a silent sign that he understands, to comfort him… but he knows much better than to do that when he hasn't fed; the last thing he needs is to freak Eddie out with his preternatural coldness. And besides, soon enough Eddie starts playing that wonderful intro, and Lestat finds himself mesmerized by it.

The quick succession of notes, Eddie's fingers sliding across the frets, his hand strumming constant down-strokes; the sound is foreboding, dark and seductive, unmistakeably Metallica even if Eddie hadn't mentioned their name. They've only released two albums so far, in Lestat's time, but both were ones he played on repeat while ingesting the music of time that had woken him from his sleep.

Its repetitive nature, in fact, is what makes it all too simple for his vampire eyes to pick up on the pattern of notes and to play along with Eddie in some places, looking up to his face for a quick dazzling smile before focusing in on his hands again. ]

[thefreak]

( Eddie had spent hours pouring over this song. He almost ruined the cassette tape with how often he rewound the solo just to get every note right, and here Lestat is repeating it to him nearly effortlessly. Eddie's face must show the shock he feels, though it's a pleasant one for sure.

It's the kind of shock at feeling like he's found someone he was always meant to meet, in a way. How could it not feel like fate when they're so like-minded?

Well, minus the thirst for blood, but Eddie naturally doesn't know about that little tidbit just yet. )

Jesus H. Christ, you figured all of that out already? Where've you been all my life?

[perfectdevil]

[ He can't resist the temptation to dip into Eddie's mind, just a little, as he drinks in Eddie's shocked expression, and in his thoughts Lestat sees exactly how hard he did, indeed, practice to learn this song. He can also see the first time he listened to it, and can share in the euphoria of that moment with a comforting familiarity.

Lestat bristles at the praise even though it was such an easy feat that it hardly feels deserved; he'll take the positive reinforcement anyway, it's not like he gets a whole lot of it on a regular basis, after all. ]

I have quite the talent for picking up songs once I've seen them played at least once. It's like my party trick.

[ It's a little more than that, but as was already covered, it doesn't feel like the right time to let Eddie know exactly what dark power source this ability comes from. He can, at least, rule out some possibilities.. even though Eddie would absolutely be the type of kid to go to his concert, he's pretty sure he won't be that lucky. He's yet to find a single person here who's heard of him in any capacity beyond what Louis has told them. ]

I assume I have been in an almost the same but somehow quite different universe from you. Tell me, do you read much? Have you heard of a book called Interview With the Vampire?

[thefreak]

( The feeling of being awestruck takes a hold of Eddie as Lestat describes this talent of his. As talented as Eddie can be in matching the chords he heard in a song to recreating it on the guitar, it still takes him hours to perfect it. That kind of muscle memory is something Eddie has always envied.

Before he can ask if that's something Lestat has always been able to do or if it's a learned skill, the musician asks him about a book, and Eddie furrows his brows in confusion. On the outside, it feels like a strange segue since he cannot follow the connection just yet. But the book, its title sounds familiar.

It's just that...Eddie has read a lot. The library had been one of his safe havens during the worst days of his childhood, and even though things looked up since moving in with his uncle, he still found the time to pick up new books as quickly as he could. So it's a possibility that this particular novel has fallen across his lap. )

Uh...I might have? What's it about?

[perfectdevil]

[ Oh yknow just.. an interview.. and a vampire. ANYWAY. ]

It doesn't matter too much what that book is about, it's more about its sequel; The Vampire Lestat. You might have recognised it from my username, yes?

[ All the while he says all this, he's strumming away at the guitar, producing a sound that's full of impending doom; dark like Metallica but operatic like Dio, firey and fast like Motley Crue, blending in to something else all together. He doesn't look down at his hands for this one, instead looking at Eddie - this is a song he knows by heart, by soul even. This is so very, very clearly a song of his own creation. ]

It's the name of my band. A week or two before I arrived here, we held a one-night-only concert in Death Valley. The crowds were massive. We sold out twice. It was one hell of a night.

[ Which is an understatement. The night ended in fires being set, vampires spontaneously combusting into flames, and numerous attempts being made on Lestat's life and the lives of those he cared for. But to a human, it would just be another showy band leaning a little bit too hard into their vampire personas, staging a dramatic end to their one-night-only show just to sell a few more records and create more of a buzz.

A power chord, and then the song cuts off. It would have been the point at which he started to sing, of course. ]

I ask only because, if we were from a similar universe, you might have heard of us.

[thefreak]

( Yeah, I did pick up on that. He nods emphatically. To Eddie, vampires are very much in the "fiction" section, though he would have also placed inter-dimensional monsters firmly in that section as well, and now look at him. So, maybe he's a little more open-minded about the whole vampire thing, but he has yet to see it for himself, so ignorant he shall remain.

Of course, it makes sense when Lestat mentions that it's the band’s name. The whole vampire aesthetic goes well with that scene. )

Shit, that sounds so cool. It's a damn shame I didn't hear about that. Small town, we didn't get a lot of buzz outside of the local dives and the occasional band to get airplay across the country. I had dreams, though, baby. Corroded Coffin. We were so close, I could taste it.

( And then his deadbeat dad showed up with another one of his dastardly schemes and convinced Eddie he could get a cut of the money if he just helped him out on one more job. It would have been enough for recording studio time!

Eddie should have expected the asshole would get arrested, with all of his recording dreams immediately dashed. )

Sadly, I haven't heard of you, at least not before. But we're here now, right? It seems as good a chance as any to hear about this band of yours.

[perfectdevil]

[ Even though Lestat has heard plenty of times that his band concept is cool - or whatever choice word the youths in the 80s chose to describe it - it always feels a little sweeter coming from someone who isn't only saying it because of the thrall, or because of the way he looks. It's always good to be seen by someone who loves the music itself, because that alone is the reason for it all in the first place.

But ah, small towns. Lestat has no love for a place so cut off from the thrum of city life, only sympathy; like Eddie said, they miss out on so much, and Lestat has felt enough for one lifetime the desperate desire to run away to the nearest city so that he could really start to live.

Clearly, Lestat is delighted to hear Eddie also has his own band, but not even remotely surprised by it. ]

What a name. I'm sure you would have found your spotlight eventually. You have talent, and more often than not, that is what most hopefuls lack… and then there's the passion for it, but I can see you clearly have no issues there, either.

[ Lestat takes the opportunity to remove his guitar and prop it up by the amps - he may be a celebrated rock start, but he won't be caught hogging the spotlight for longer than can be considered elegant. Or at least that's what he claims. ]

But you're right, of course. In many ways, this place is a second chance. Obviously, our respective bandmates are absent, but I'm delighted to find so many musically inclined inhabitants. Perhaps we could make something work together here. [ A little laugh. ] I promise not to take the title this time.

[ Then he studies Eddie again. ]

Do you only play the guitar, then?