SOMETHING DEAD THAT DOESN'T KNOW IT'S DEAD.
» THE CITY — INTRODUCTORY NOTES
Now that Halloween is just around the corner, the city is starting to come alive with seasonal cheer. You start to spot decorations scattered around the city: plastic skeletons sitting on benches, jack-o-lanterns decorating front stoops, and even a few places in the park near City Hall where the trees themselves have been decorated. It's clear that the autumn season is in full swing and the city is making the most of it.
From the morning of October 19, you also start to notice flyers hung up around the city that advertise the local university's homecoming Halloween party. They're cheerfully decorated much the same as the newsletter that was delivered to residents earlier in the month, and they're hung from light poles, pinned to bulletin boards, and occasionally fluttering on front stoops of apartment buildings. There might even be one taped to your door when you open it in the morning.
The flyer announces that the Halloween party will begin on October 22 and will run through October 31. It runs every night from sunset to midnight, and residents are encouraged to attend in costume! If they have their own costume, perhaps found at the Halloween Superstore, that's perfect—if they don't have a costume, though, one will be provided to them by the party organizers. Doesn't that just sound like fun? And the flyers really are everywhere, and that makes it hard not to take notice—but once you take notice, you really can't stop noticing.
Indeed, once you read one of the flyers, you just can't help but read the flyer every time you encounter another one. And every time you read one, you find yourself feeling a little more curious about the party being advertised. Will it be anything like the Halloween I know? you may think. Or, I don't even know what Halloween is, I wonder what it'll be like. It's not quite enough to compel you to pay a visit to the address on the flyer, which is one of the dorm buildings on the university campus, but it's definitely enough to get you thinking about Halloween. Maybe you ought to go find a costume…
But Halloween parties and costumes are not all you're thinking about. It's easy enough to write off at first, as tricks of the light or a figment of your imagination: flickers of shadow at the corner of your eye, cold spots in your apartment, creaking footsteps in your empty living room. There's nothing there when you turn your head to look, nothing there when you flick on the lightswitch to see if someone's in your house—but somehow, that doesn't reassure you.
By the evening of October 21, every resident in the city has been visited by some sort of entity haunting their house, and every resident of the city has been left a gift: a dorm room key, each differently numbered. You may find the key in your pocket, or on your bedside table, or in your favorite coffee mug.
Should you decide to attend the party, it will be up to you to decide: Is this just the City getting in the spirit of the season? Or is it something more… malevolent?
The flyers will be strewn about the city in various locations beginning on October 19. Characters who read them will find themselves feeling oddly compelled to go check out the advertised Halloween party, which will run from October 22 to October 31 between sunset and midnight. For the most part this will just feel like a sense of curiosity about the party, and astute characters may be able to pick up on the fact that they're being emotionally manipulated a bit.
Characters who choose to go can wear a costume of their choosing from the Halloween Superstore, or the City will provide one if they don't have a costume of their own yet. (Read on for more information about how characters can get their hands on a costume!)
Lastly, every character will find a dorm room key somewhere on their person before the party starts on October 22. This key may or may not correspond to a room in the dorm where the party is being held—of course, characters are not obligated to use the key, but they may want to know what's hiding behind those closed doors.
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ALL THESE GHOSTS COME STREAMING DOWN.
» THE CITY — GETTING THE PARTY STARTED
On the morning of October 22, every device in the city starts to buzz.
The screen illuminates, displaying a white page not unlike the orientation survey that welcomed you into the city. Unlike the orientation survey, though, there are no questions—only a single phrase in bold, dark text. THE GOOD OF THE MANY, it says, with a single "OK" button below.
For a minute, nothing else happens. You try to turn the device off, but the screen stays lit; you try to reboot the device, but the screen stays lit. It seems that the only way to get rid of the screen is to press the button.
…Have you done this before? Or are you having déjà vu?
At sunset that same day, the Halloween party will open for the first time. The party's entrance is located on the ground level of a large three-story dorm building in the western half of the university campus. The double doors into the building are fully decorated with folded-paper bats and ghosts, cotton batting pulled apart to make spiderwebs, and a cut-out sign that says "HAUNTED HOUSE" in bright red, dripping-blood letters. The decor looks almost… corny, hokey in a way that can't possibly be threatening. Right?
But the decorated double doors aren't the only way that residents may enter the party. Of course, the organizers would prefer that you use the front doors, but if you'd prefer not to, they have other ways of getting you inside.
After the party begins on October 22, any door in the city that you walk through has the potential to become a door into the first level of the dorm building. You may exit your apartment and find yourself standing in the darkened lobby; you may walk out of the bathroom and run right into a handful of cotton spiderwebbing. Unfortunately, there's nothing to indicate whether or not a door might lead to the party until you're through it—and once you're through it, there's no turning around. The only way out, as they say, is deeper in.
Were you wearing a costume in preparation for the party? Fantastic, you'll keep that costume on! But if you weren't wearing a costume, don't worry—the party's organizers have you covered. You look down and find that no matter what you were wearing before, you are now wearing a costume of some kind. Maybe it's one you would have chosen for yourself, or maybe it's totally not to your taste. If you truly hate it, you can try to take it off… although you may not find it easy to remove.
Once the party begins on October 22, as stated above, any door in the city has the potential to become a door that leads directly to the first level of the haunted house. Characters will not be able to tell by any means whether a door is pointed there or not; only once they're fully through the door will they realize that they're actually standing in the lobby of the decorated dorm building and not in whatever room they intended to enter. Once characters are inside, there's unfortunately no way to get out, not without making their way through the haunted house itself.
Whether a character enters the haunted house via the main double doors or through another door somewhere else in the city, they'll need to come in costume. (Their own canon clothes do not count!) If they're already wearing a costume, they can keep it on arrival; however, those who enter the haunted house costumeless will be assigned a costume at random by the city. The actual costume is up to the player's choice. It may end up being something that suits the character, or it may end up being something totally embarrassing—that's completely up to the player.
Regardless, characters will have a difficult (but not impossible) time removing the costume until they have exited the haunted house. This includes both physical difficulty (feeling as though the costume is fused to their skin, feeling physical resistance to undoing zippers/buttons, etc.) and mental difficulty (an overwhelming sense of dread or vulnerability). Characters are able to overcome both of these difficulties to remove the costume if they're dedicated enough; the clothes they were originally wearing may be still on under the costume or might be awaiting them at home when they return.
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THEY GO TO GROUND AND ROT.
» THE HAUNTED HOUSE — LEVEL 1
CONTENT WARNINGS: One image containing fake spiders, mention of spidery feelings; mention of zombies (but no images)
The ground floor of the dorm is decorated much how one might expect a haunted house at a university to be decorated. The entrance to the haunted house proper is through a tunnel of cotton spiderwebs filled with little plastic spiders, so narrow that it forces you to hunch down and squish together to get through. Although it feels claustrophobic, and you may imagine the sensation of little spider legs crawling over your body, once you make it through the tunnel it becomes clear that the spiders never actually moved. Whew!
The tunnel lets out into the first-floor dorm, a long (too long?) stretch of hallway with doors leading to rooms on either side. Some of the doors are closed and locked, but many are open, allowing you a glimpse as you pass. As you walk down the hallway, you make sure to peer into each of the rooms. Some of the doors lead to total blackness; others lead to rooms decorated like an elaborate Victorian haunted mansion, and yet others even lead to perfectly normal dorm rooms, like someone forgot to get around to decorating. And sometimes—not every time, but often enough—when you peer into one of the rooms, there's something peering back.
Most of the frights you get on the first floor come in the form of animatronics, realistic-looking ones that jump out at you as you pass and give you a fright. There's a man with a bloody knife, or a zombie with flesh hanging from its teeth, or a clown with sharp, venomous-looking fangs—they leap out of the doorways with a startling quickness, but never come close enough to touch. They just brandish their weapons, then retreat back into the room they came from as if satisfied with the scare they've given.
There are also a handful of real scare actors on the first floor as well, perhaps even some faces you recognize. They lurk in the darkened rooms and leap out with growls or shrieks, then chase you a few meters down the hall before leaving you to run away. Just like the animatronics, though, they never get close enough to touch or harm you—they just want to get your blood racing.
The rest of the scares come from paintings that abruptly change form to show a ghost's face, or candles that swoop down across your path and then move back up. And behind it all are the spooky sounds of groans and screams and tearful begging, a solemn soundtrack to your trip through the haunted house.
Oddly, you never do see a speaker. And even more oddly still, none of the rooms on the first floor match the number of the key you're holding…
The first level of the haunted house consists of fairly cheap scares, mostly relying on animatronics, voiceover tracks, and tricks of the light or optical illusions to deliver scares to the residents. Players should feel free to use their imaginations to come up with potential scares or animatronics—think something moderately more scary than Haunted Mansion but less than Halloween Horror Nights. The animatronics may feature enemies or monsters from characters' home worlds, or may be simply generic creatures you would find at a Halloween store.
In addition, the first level is also populated by characters working as scare actors. These characters may be those who attended Robby and Tsuruno's house party, or may simply be characters with a sense of humor who enjoy making other characters jump and shriek a little. Either way, these scares are harmless and non-contact. The scare actors won't harm anyone going through the haunted house, even if they do a little chasing down the hall.
Although the hallway looks oddly long and is perhaps a bit more winding than it ought to be, there doesn't seem to be anything particularly odd about the dorm building itself. Characters may, however, find that the trip through the haunted house feels shorter when they're accompanied by another.
For characters who don't wish to venture up the stairs to the second level, there is a well-hidden emergency exit tucked out of sight behind the staircase that leads upward. This is the opt-out for players who don't wish to engage with the events in the second and third levels of the dorm.
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WE WILL NOT REMAIN UNSCATHED.
» THE HAUNTED HOUSE — LEVEL 2
CONTENT WARNINGS: Generally spooky images including some ghostly ones; mention of hanging. Prompts include violence (such as mutilation) potentially leading to serious injury or death. As always, please warn appropriately!
It's once you reach the second level that you realize something has shifted.
The metal door at the end of the hallway swings shut behind you, and you immediately realize it's far too dark and far too cold. Even with your eyes wide, you can barely make out the shapes of the decorations around you; they are lit mostly by the flickering orange of electric candles and the glow of the emergency exit sign above your head. Your breath condenses into steam as you exhale, and although you rub your hands together, you can't quite seem to gain any warmth. You feel a little bit dizzy and off-kilter, and from the distance you can hear the sound of a voice murmuring in quiet, urgent tones, interrupted by brief bouts of sobbing. You try the door behind you, but it doesn't give: you are stuck here, and must make it out.
The hallway is decorated, but even the same decorations that felt corny downstairs now give this floor an air of discomfort and desperation. As you make your way down the hall, you notice that many more of the doors on this level are open, and in the sickly, dim light cast by the fake candles, you're able to catch glimpses of what's inside: shadowy figures moving in the blackness. These are creatures that seem made of the dark itself, congealed into something more or less resembling a person. There's one sitting at the desk like a good student, its too-long fingernails rasping over the surface as it scratches something into the wood. There's one sitting on the windowsill, its too-long limbs hanging out into the night. There's one hanging from the ceiling, its feet at eye level, swaying slightly in an unfelt breeze. There's one standing dead in the middle of the room and staring straight at you, its eyes two embers in its featureless head.
You lock eyes briefly and the creature starts to move: this ghost is coming after you, and this one means it. There's no animatronic rigging to stop it and pull it back into the darkness of the room, and it's no scare actor that will stop after a few meters of pursuit—no, its hands reach for you, for your hair, your throat, fingers clutching and grasping. You turn and run, but it pursues, and that voice you heard murmuring earlier is now a fever pitch of syllables behind you, half-whispered, half-screamed in a language you can't understand. The noise of it draws more ghosts out from their rooms, and they follow as you sprint down the too long, twisting length of the hallway. You can see the glow of the exit sign at the end lf the hallway, drawing closer as you madly dash for it—
And then you trip. Or maybe you're pushed, you're not sure. You hit the carpet hard and then the ghost is on you, its hands scrabbling at your throat, fingers prodding at your eyes. Of course you fight back—if you don't, you're going to die—but as you fumble blindly for something with which to beat the ghost off, you realize that this ghost has weight to it, that the fingers trying to tear out your throat aren't incorporeal and ghostly but rather the fingers of a pair of very human hands. As you blink, eyes straining in the darkness, the features of the ghost begin to resolve into those of a person.
And it is a person. It's a person you may even know, a friend of yours, a fellow resident of the City. Not a mannequin facsimile, but someone real, someone who fights you with everything in them as you struggle to break free.
Your grasping hand grips something firm, maybe a flashlight or a fire extinguisher, and you swing it as hard as you can at their head. You don't want to, this is your friend, but what choice do you have? After all—it's either them or you.
Once characters enter the second level of the haunted house, those attuned to energy flow will immediately be able to recognize this as a place full of negative ghostly energy. Characters may sneak extremely carefully and quietly through the hallways, avoiding every single ghost; they may be pursued by ghosts, but ultimately make it to the exit, beyond which the ghosts will not pursue; or they may be caught by a ghost (or "ghost") and be forced to fight for their lives.
Not all of the "ghosts" on the second level are truly ghosts. Players may opt to have their characters participate in the event as the considerably more deadly "scare actors" of the second level. Only they won't be acting: to these characters, anyone who passes by in the second-floor hallway (the "partygoer") is an absolute threat that must be dealt with immediately. Scare actor characters will be possessed by an irrepressible need to hunt down and attempt to injure or kill any partygoer or other scare actor they encounter, and can only be stopped by either death (of either the partygoer or the scare actor) or being knocked out and removed from the hallway.
These characters may also be those who attended Robby and Tsuruno's Halloween house party and ended up getting a little too in-character in a negative way (see their plotting post for more information). However, characters do not have to attend the house party in order to participate in this mechanic. Any character who enters the haunted house can become a second-floor ghost if the player so desires.
Either the scare actor or partygoer may be seriously injured or even die. If this happens to the partygoer, the haze of bloodlust will immediately lift from the scare actor and reveal to them what they've done. (If the scare actor is knocked out or dead, obviously this realization will take place after they've returned or regained consciousness.) Killing and death as a part of the October event is not subject to murder or death consequences.
If a character chooses to sneak through the second floor and avoid the ghosts, and does so by entering any of the decorated dorm rooms, they may find shorthand messages scratched into the desks, closets, or doors. These messages might just be names, familiar ones belonging to people from home, or might say things like HELP ME or ITERATION 4█ or LOOK BEHIND THE APOCALYPSES. Characters may also find small, non-magical, recognizable personal effects belonging to people from their home worlds, tucked into drawers or kicked under the bed or in some otherwise unobtrusive location, easily overlooked.
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WHEN YOU HAVE NOTHING TO SAY, SET SOMETHING ON FIRE.
» THE HAUNTED HOUSE — LEVEL 3 AND CONCLUSION
After the second level of the haunted house, the only way to go is up… assuming you survived, that is. Exhausted and battered, you make your way up the stairs—perhaps alone, perhaps with a friend, or perhaps dragging the unconscious body of your assailant-friend—and let yourself into the third-floor common area.
This is where the Halloween party is taking place! Congratulations, you made it! There's a bass-heavy soundtrack throbbing in the background, and the room is decorated once again in the cheesy Halloween decor of the entryway. A large casket full of ice holds beers and sodas, and a table in the middle of the room bears all sorts of spooky snacks: peeled-grape "eyeballs," candy corn "teeth," sour gummy worms in brownie dirt, and any other kind of snack one might imagine.
If you made it through the haunted house with a friend, you will find a letterman jacket in your favorite colors, with your name embroidered on the back, hanging on a peg on the far wall of the room. You can take it with you now, or when you go home, or you can leave it on the peg forever—it's your choice, but it is a symbol of having survived the haunted house, so it might be nice to have. Don't you think?
You may have to do this again, you realize. Now that the doors in the city occasionally open straight into the haunted house, there's no telling how many times you'll have to survive this before the Halloween party draws to its close. Maybe you do need a beer after all…
Oh, and you still don't know what dorm room that key goes to. Maybe you had better just hang onto it for now.
The topmost floor of the dorm building, the third floor, is where the "party" part of the Halloween party is taking place! The food and drink is abundant and, of course, free. There's just about any type of drink or Halloween-themed snack imaginable, so characters can help themselves. When they're through partying, there's an outside staircase that leads directly from the common room back down to ground level.
Characters who survive the haunted house in a group of two or more will find that that there is a custom-made letterman jacket with their name on the back, perfectly their size, hanging on a coat rack on the far side of the room. While wearing this jacket, characters will be less susceptible to the scares in the haunted house, and the ghosts of the second floor will not pursue them as intently (although it has no effect on scare actor characters). To any characters who are particularly sensitive to this sort of thing, the jackets do have a moderate protective effect against various negative status effects, so to speak; this effect does not diminish after the event is over. Characters can only get one jacket, their first time through the haunted house; subsequent trips through will not result in additional jackets.
The dorm room key is not a usable item during the October 2023 event, but will become usable in November and December, so characters are advised to not lose them.
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WILDCARD.
The city is by no means small, and there are plenty of things for you to see. There's no rush in exploring, so feel free to take your time looking around and peering into various nooks and crannies and alleyways—and don't worry, you're not very likely to find anything peering back.
If none of the above prompts appeal, feel free to check out the Locations and Maps pages and write your own freestyle prompt using one or many of the available locations.
This month's event headers come from "Landscape with Fruit Rot and Millipede," a poem by Richard Siken.
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citylogs2023-10-19 09:00 pm
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The eventual feeling of Lestat’s hand in his hair, comes from as if from far away and there’s a disorientating moment where the feeling is overlayed with a heavier hand, a different accent ’Sleep, Amadeo. Sleep…’ and he sighs wistfully, turning into the body next to his and closer to the touch of that hand. ]
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Seeing his beloved's face, he smiles, but there's something apologetic lingering around his eyes. ]
Louis, forgive me for not calling sooner. I was taken to that place again, I wanted to get out as quickly as possible, but Armand was there. He was hurt, badly, by those creatures on the second floor. I patched him up and he's sleeping, he'll be fine with time — as you were — but…
[ His eyes move to the side, looking at Armand's vulnerable body pressed up against his. ]
I can't leave him like this. Please understand.
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Lestat's voice is weighted with more meaning than Louis can possibly pick apart, and when Lestat gazes off to the side with such tender concern, he knows without a doubt what he must be looking at. Louis looks about as pleased with the news as Lestat probably anticipated he would, but he simply nods, once, his mouth a thin line. If Armand is injured that badly, badly enough that Lestat is afraid to leave his side, it must be quite serious. Louis hadn't ever really considered the thought of Armand getting hurt — it still sounds like something he hasn't heard right, information he can't quite integrate into his reality. His stomach churns for no less than three separate reasons. )
Is he all right? Are you? Do you need me to come? I think there's still time…
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I'm fine, and he will be. The wounds are large, and deep. Limbs were torn from him.
[ How to explain delicately which limbs and how fails him for the moment, so he powers past it. ]
You know where this place is, don't you? If you can make it here… I would like to see you. [ It's not like Louis was the only one experiencing worry when Lestat found himself transported to that place again, after all. ] But please don't risk anything. I want you safe.
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He lets out a heavy breath, trying to will his racing thoughts into a single direction. Focus on one task, don't get pulled into the darkness unnecessarily, you can help no one there... )
I'll be careful. Does he need more blood? I can bring some of my bottles...
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He has a refrigerator full, and the exhaustion has taken him besides. Perhaps we can do a few supply runs for him in the nights to come but-
[ He's getting ahead of himself, his worry leaking out after having been stifled for so long as he attempted to stay calm. ]
We can talk when you get here about that, can't we? Hurry, mon amour.
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Yes, Lestat, of course. I'm on my way. I'll be there very soon, all right? I'll let myself in.
( And true to his word, once he sets off, it's only a few minutes before he arrives. He opens the door as quietly as he can, all but sneaking in and latching it behind him again. His hair is a mess and his cheeks are slightly pink and chilled from the wind; he's obviously raced here. )
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He's distracted from further wondering by the sound of Louis' unmistakeable heartbeat thundering toward them, and then the door clicking open and latching shut. ]
In here. [ He calls softly, looking to the door and helplessly smiling when he sees Louis' pinkened cheeks. ] You weren't wrong, you got here in record time.
[ It's a light attempt at a joke but it does fall a little flat what with Armand curled up against his side and the scent of congealed blood clearly lingering in the air. Lestat looks at Louis like a man might look at a compass, hoping against hope for some kind of direction to at least turn toward on his quest for answers... even though all that falls from his mouth is an honest: ]
Thank you for coming, Louis.
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He sinks down onto one knee, meeting Lestat's eyes and extending a hand, palm up, for him to take. )
Of course I came. I was so worried, even before you called.
Is he... ( Louis swallows. ) He'll be all right?
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I believe so. That place changed him, like it did with us the first time we arrived. He was dressed like some angel or cherub, with the robe and wings. Some attempt at humour, I imagine.
[ Lestat's fingers trace back and forth over one of Louis, his eyes dropping down to the head of curls and the line of Armand's torso visible before it's shrouded by the comforter. If Louis was on his other side he'd be able to see the wounds himself, so Lestat is thankful that he has chosen to kneel beside him instead. ]
We were fighting them off, but Armand didn't have a jacket, and they overwhelmed us, separated us. I couldn't get to him, all I could do was watch while they held him down underfoot and tore the wings from his back.
[ Witnessing such an act would be horrifying enough, but to be forced to watch it happen to someone you care for... it's surely obvious, now, why Lestat looks so haunted. Watching Louis bleed out had been frightening, but at least he hadn't seen him tortured, at least he actually managed to save him before things got any worse. ]
But I shared my blood with him and he's strong. He was aware of his surroundings enough to give me directions to this place and to unlock the door with his mind, so I am sure he'll pull through given enough time.
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How strange to think I escaped relatively unscathed.
( His voice is soft, musing; he's trying not to let himself think of why, or to feel guilt for it, or shame that such a small wound had been enough to cripple him. )
I'm certain he will. He's fortunate that you were there.
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Louis, don't say such things. An inch or so above where you were hurt and it would have been your heart.
[ It kind of falls from him, to the point where even he's surprised to hear the harrowing reality fall into the air between them, and he presses his lips together as if doing so will reel it back in, will take them back to something quieter, calmer. He squeezes Louis' hand again. ]
I had to explain how the blood is slower. He was worried to hear you were hurt too. Perhaps I should have let him know.
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He shakes his head. )
No, I didn't want him to concern himself with me. You've been looking after me well enough. I'm nearly recovered, thanks to you.
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[ Well, the wording was certainly different, but Lestat doesn't need to explain the intricacies of that to Louis. He's sure he already knows. They had years together, after all, didn't they?
Lestat runs his thumb over the line of Louis' knuckle and then tugs very softly on his hand. ]
Will you lie up here with me? There should be enough room if you hold onto me.
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Are you certain? ( He chews at his lip. ) All right. Just for a few moments.
( He wonders if the death sleep will allow him to simply lie on the couch, when it comes. )
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Once settled, he tangles his ankle between Louis' legs, and presses a little kiss to the top of his head. ]
I can hear you frowning you're doing it so loudly.
[ A very small smile. ]
I know this isn't the most ideal sleeping situation, but the shutters and blinds are thick enough that I doubt it will let any light in. You don't have to leave.
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These voices are more familiar and dear than visiting strangers however and Armand stirs briefly as Louis joins them on the bed, feeling the dip of the mattress and responding with a bleary sounding noise.
He’s still a mess of dried blood and tears, still fresh wounds gouged down his neck, the tops of his arms and of course his back, covered just enough by the blanket he’s pulled close - clearly all he can stand at present. The hand not holding the little bear reaches out blindly, alighting on Lestat’s stomach and curling in the netting of his shirt, anchoring there as Armand murmurs drowsily without lifting his head. ]
Louis? I heard him, Lestat. He is safe, oh— my heart, you’re both.. you’ll go.
[ His tone is full of muddled relief, words disjointed but he visibly relaxes, though his hand stays caught against Lestat’s stomach as if his words and actual desire are terribly incongurent. ]
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Pressed up against Lestat like this as he is, head tucked against his chest, all he can see is Armand — Armand, looking helpless and childlike and vulnerable in a way Louis has never seen before. His hand looks so small and delicate there, curled against Lestat's stomach, and Louis is suddenly quite aware of the edge of the bed just behind him, the uncertain boundaries of his own territory. )
Yes, it's all right, we're safe. Lestat is going to stay with you, Armand. Rest now... you need to heal.
( His voice is sweet and gentle, an attempt to be reassuring, a voice he's never bothered to use with Armand before tonight. Very tentatively, he reaches out to brush his fingers once through Armand's hair. It doesn't feel natural, this tenderness, but he feels the urge to comfort him all the same. )
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Forgiveness is such a difficult to determine concept to Lestat. If you asked him he'd say that his grace toward it depends on the person and on how he's feeling, but in reality he leans toward absolution because the alternative is so much worse; the alternative of losing someone forever, of never being able to see or speak to them again, no matter what horrifying things they might have done, no matter what wrongs they might have done to him or he to them. Lestat has only witnessed Louis' ability to forgive when it came to him, and they never spoke about it beyond their initial reunion. Louis doesn't have the context for Armand's life any more than Lestat does, but somehow the wound still seems so raw in him.
When things quieten down again, when Louis hand brushes through Armand's hair and then relaxes, Lestat finally decides to speak. ]
He saw things in the dorms, much like I did. Things put there to taunt him. The bear, the glasses, a message carved into the desk. He thought they were real, that his fledgling is searching for him in our world. The pain of being away from him is a wound that won't heal. I've never seen him like this.
[ Lestat's voice is low but firm; he's clearly putting a lot of effort into staying impartial. ]
He's different from how I remember him. Something about him has changed.
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But he doesn't understand it any more than he understood Claudia's secret love and loathing for Lestat, and he feels just as lost when he thinks of her sharp little blade plunging into Lestat's heart as he does when he imagines Armand shoving Lestat from the tower to shatter and bleed on the cold stones below. And the truth of it is, though he'd loved Claudia in a way that he'd loved no other being that had ever lived, he had never truly forgiven even her for what she'd done; the gulf between them remained until the bitter end. Is it any wonder, then, that he still feels such trepidation toward Armand?
Louis lets out a sigh. )
I know. I've known for a while now. I can tell just by the way he speaks of his fledgling. He's lonely, and he's in pain, and this time he isn't to blame for it.
( Louis hadn't spared a shred of pity for Armand when they'd parted all those decades ago, but now... )
I feel for him.
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[ He thinks about the tight little expression he'd seen on Armand's face at the fun-fair, before they'd taken their photo together, and the mask he'd had to physically wrench back onto his face rather than it being there as default; as if he'd fallen out of the habit of using it. ]
The Armand I knew would have never made a fledgling; his loneliness wasn't something that could be soothed by bringing anyone over to what we are. He's never found peace in our kind, but this human he spent his years with has changed him more than anyone welcoming him into the current century ever could have.
I treat him the same way as I always have, but he doesn't respond how I expect him to. It's almost as if... as if he's a different person now than how I remember him to be.
[ This Armand still enjoys teasing him, enjoys getting his own way, enjoys toying with mortals and enjoys his own company but... he isn't quite so vicious, so selfish, so domineering. If he'd had to guess, he would have thought Armand would have torn whole buildings down looking for the source of all this, not simply quietly adapted to what little life they can make for themselves in this place.
More than that, Lestat thinks about how he might have adapted had he spent years being Louis' lover rather than having only just reunited with him, and how it might feel to be torn away from him. ]
They say that to be loved is to be changed, don't they? I always had a thought it might be so - [ He looks at Louis; he thinks of the man he himself once was, and the man he is now. ] - but now I know it to be true, even for someone as stubborn as Armand.
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He hums softly, nodding his head once at Lestat's final conclusion. It makes him think of an old children's story, and his expression goes distant and thoughtful as he quotes from it: )
"It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
( Louis glances down at Armand's auburn curls again, at the pale slope of his shoulder tucked against the comforter, at his stuffed bear, a painful reminder of how young he was when he was turned... )
That's how it is, isn't it? I never could have brought this out in him. I didn't think he was capable of it. "I was finally given the opportunity to live," that's how he described it to me. You know, I was so certain I'd ruined that boy's life, destroyed him utterly, but if he means that much to Armand...
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Eloquent as ever, even this close to dawn.
[ He says it like it's a compliment, because it is. He lifts a hand to Louis' hair, twisting his fingers through the dark locks over and over in a slow, soothing motion that's honestly more for himself than it is Louis. ]
The boy was looking for me, wasn't he? You all but told him where to find me, and instead he found Armand. I'm sure he hadn't expected to find someone who'd end up being so important to him in a place like that.
[ Lestat inhales, a breath measured enough that it moves both of them against him with the shift of his body, then exhales just as slowly. ]
I don't think that Armand has never had the opportunity to be himself the way you and I have. He lived under a master, then he was a tool of Satan, then the coven master I made him. At your side, I assume he was looking for direction and for purpose, for something to keep him here.
[ A pause. It feels strange to be talking about these things so casually, but he supposes it's better than not talking about them at all. ]
He must have found that in this Daniel, some direction that led him to find out who he truly is, something to hold onto, to give his life meaning. And now we must put what we once knew about Armand aside, and try to see what Daniel has nurtured in him.
[ Another pause, and Lestat opens his eyes to gaze up at the ceiling. ]
How terrifying it must be to have your reason for living taken from you.
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He doesn't say it, because he knows that Lestat has lost just as much to Armand — no, much more than Louis has. Lestat is more compassionate than Louis can truly fathom. Had Lestat always been this way, or had he changed, too...? He had forgiven Louis, after all, and in some ways Louis had hurt Lestat far more than Armand ever could. )
I hope you'll understand why I am slow to trust the way I did. I once believed I understood his motives and intentions, but I was hopelessly naive. I saw what I wished to see. And then afterward, I told myself that there had never been anything there in the first place. Every wrong, every evil sprang from my foolishness... my insistence that I was in love with the person I believed him to be.
( He takes a breath, willing himself to relax again, tucking his head against Lestat's shoulder. )
Even with all the years he and I spent together, you've always known him better. I trust your judgment of him more than I trust my own.
( Even if he doesn't necessarily trust Armand not to push Lestat off a building again. It's complicated. )
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Of course I understand. Not all wounds take the same amount of time to heal, and you have always been much more careful with your emotions than I have.
[ He rests his head on Louis', closing his eyes, letting the weight of him and the sound of his voice and his breathing settle him. It mixes in perfectly with Armand's pressure at his side, the stillness of him in sleep, and Lestat can feel lethargy creeping in at the edges of his mind. ]
I think he just wants to be taken at face value. It sounds impossible, especially for someone like him, but that's what I believe.
[ Lestat sighs, thinking of Armand when he tried to show them what could have been, the hurt look in his eyes when it backfired, the terrible loneliness he'd felt in the blood, the wish for someone to simply look at him and see him without any of his past mistakes. It's almost relatable. But it isn't like this is all on them, there would have to be effort from all sides to salvage the relationship, but Lestat at least feels that he understands a little better now. ]
Thank you for coming tonight, Louis. [ His voice is quiet, almost said around a sigh as he tilts his head back against the headboard. ] I'm glad you're here.
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