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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 3, 2008 9:11:30 GMT -5
Nicolas tightened his grip on the arm of Armand's chair unthinkingly, body growing rather still. He looked up at Armand a moment as though he quite possibly were considering how much he detested him - as though Armand's words had been a slap in the face. He did not like Armand's reference to that act between vampires, particularly not between them. Certainly it meant little to Armand, who had governed the coven, who moved with care, who had been the pet and darling of how many Satanists over the years, but it was not a subject Nicolas was at all at ease with. He could feel the blood of a recent kill rush to his face; it was blushing, a face flushed in anger or sudden self-consciousness, although the way Nicolas usually behaved did not suggest he was often very self-conscious.
"Were you at my throat," he said, voice caught in his own, eyes staring, almost as though illuminated with their own, peculiar light, "I might touch your face, but only in an attempt to crush it."
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Post by Mercutio on Dec 3, 2008 9:16:28 GMT -5
((Maggie: I think we are doomed. I read further in TVL and it says in several places that Armand and Nicki liked each other quite well. Here: "The last time we saw Armand in the 18th century, he was standing with Eleni and Nicolas and the other vampire mummers before the door of Renaud's theater, watching as our carriage made its way into the stream of traffic on the boulevard. I'd found him earlier closeted in my old dressing room with Nicolas in the midst of a strange conversation dominated by Nicki's sarcasm and peculiar fire...." And, in a letter from Eleni: "I cannot say that we do not love him [Nicolas]. For your sake we would care for him even if we did not. But we do love him. And Our Oldest Friend, in particular, bears him great affection. Yet I should remark that in the old times, such persons would not have endured among us for very long." And later when she describes him going into the fire: "I know how this news will affect you. But understand we did all that we could to prevent what occurred. Our Oldest Friend was bitter and grieved." So, um...yeah. Maybe we should talk about this? I'm not quite sure what to do.)) (( ...Oops. Um. Yesss. Let's talk. We can still make it work, I think. ))
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Post by Armand on Dec 3, 2008 21:28:33 GMT -5
Armand smiled at him, almost a beam, eyes crinkled like the sweet child he wasn't. There was something sly and pleased about it, something satisfied. "That didn't sound very recklessly self-destructive of you, Nicolas. Would you like to try again?"
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 4, 2008 9:29:28 GMT -5
Nicolas sprang at him without realizing it; a chill was in his joints even beyond the natural cold of the immortal, who, of course, had no body heat, and it was making him feel his body tense and shiver. His movements were completely irrational, driven on by the formidable hollow Armand's words caused him to feel expanding inside his chest, the sudden deep pain it caused. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to fill the hole.
And if Armand's intention had been to somehow get Nicolas out of his chair, it worked.
His hands tightened at Armand's collar, at his lapel, gripping the fabric such that he heard a few threads in the seam along the shoulder snap. His eyes glittered as he stared back at Armand, desperate, although this time not in any position to discern anything in the other vampire's eyes. "You cannot hear the self-destructiveness in that, in threatening you, one of my own kind? To destroy another vampire is to destroy one's self, isn't it?"
He seemed to be demanding of Armand to answer the question, which did not seem to have been rhetorical.
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Post by Armand on Dec 4, 2008 11:18:15 GMT -5
Armand squashed the instinctual urge to flinch back, not even blinking in the face of Nicolas's sudden attack. His head tilted, lips pursed thoughtfully.
"Only if you'd feel guilty for it afterwards," he said, eyes glittering. "To destroy me- mm, that would be hard. Are you going to try it, Nicolas?"
(( "There's no greater kind than to kill your kind, there's no greater crime than to kill your kind...la la laaa..." *end Lestat the musical moment* ))
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 4, 2008 11:24:40 GMT -5
Nicolas let go of him abruptly with the same jerkiness and sudden scorn as he would have if he had shoved him backwards. He took a step around him, but turned his body as he did so that he was still facing him. He would not give Armand his back, he would not look away.
"You'd like it, wouldn't you?" he said shortly. "If I forced you into the fire. You'd like the symmetry. And most of all you would like to die and you'd like to proclaim that it wasn't your fault it happened, that whatever happened, you weren't to blame. No." He sounded vaguely disgusted, although it did not seem directed at Armand. He recognized some urge in him, some desire to fight and try to completely crush Armand, and shrank away from it in distaste.
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Post by Armand on Dec 4, 2008 11:36:35 GMT -5
Armand did not think that Nicolas could do it, and that was what lent him this confidence now, almost a recklessness in that as nicolas moved behind him he did not swivel to follow, only his head turning. The one eye Nicolas could see was sharp, as if Armand could with his gaze alone pin him to the stone behind him.
But Armand was not completely without sense, and there was no need to tell Nicolas he lacked the conviction of his desires unless Armand was actually trying to provoke a sloppy attempt at destruction.
"On the contrary, I wouldn't like that at all."
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 4, 2008 11:45:59 GMT -5
That is exactly what Armand would say - convince himself this was awful, that he hated it, all of it was cruel Nicki's fault... Armand had no illusions about the world around him, in Nicolas' opinion, and this was refreshing to him in a strange way. But Nicolas detested self-illusion. Nonetheless, he did it to himself on a nightly basis, often without realizing. Who was he to try and force Armand to recognize what was true? He'd have liked to beat it out of him - his defeat at Armand's hands serving as his own punishment - but he felt very fatigued and tired.
He returned in a matter of blinking to the desk, climbed back on it and wrapped his arms around his drawn-up legs broodingly. He looked a little like a perched child, or a handsome gargoyle returning to its place grudgingly on the edge of a cathedral. "You'd come back," he said, sounding petulant, but also somewhat miserable. "I wouldn't scatter your ashes either."
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Post by Armand on Dec 4, 2008 18:27:07 GMT -5
"Your honesty is refreshing," Armand said, returning to the seat Nicolas had vacated, crossing his legs and folding his hands calmly over his lap. And if someone were watching they'd find this a strange, backwards tableau- a young man hugging his knees like a petulant child, and the younger auburn-haired boy facing him with the composure of a schoolteacher. "If not predictable. You're not the type to forgive and forget, as the mortals say. But as you managed to control yourself I can only assume this means you want to stay."
The tension rising between the two had vanished as Nicolas withdrew to sulk, and Armand was satisfied, more than satisfied, with the outcome. Although, had Nicolas attacked, Armand would have had legitimate reason to throw him out.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 4, 2008 19:25:58 GMT -5
Nicolas leaned against his knees and threw a backward glance at Armand, still broodingly. His response was displeasing because of its perceptiveness. And Nicolas very much did not consider himself predictable, and did not want to be considered as such by Armand - if Armand thought such a thing of him, Nicolas would very much feel a need to throw him off, and Armand would likely not like the means Nicolas sought out with which to do so.
And wanting to stay - this he very much did not like. But the fact remained that, as he had to pause and reflect upon this, he did. Had he not he would have fled the tower when Armand angered him. He moved only across the room. He glanced back at Armand again, although this time there was only a sort of irritation, the kind he wanted to itch at, but which did not hurt. "You're right," he said. "I want to stay." It was such an honest admission that it might have sounded sarcastic - which, being as he was usually so sarcastic, might not have been all that off. But he had no reason to be sarcastic, and he did not move from the spot, suggesting he did.
He knew he did. The question was why. He was loathe to even think of answering it.
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Post by Armand on Dec 4, 2008 19:36:16 GMT -5
Armand considered. It was a very very long time 'til dawn. He hadn't hunted yet, but he could go one night without, or use it as an excuse should he want to leave. He- wait.
Armand's eyes narrowed.
"Nicolas, if you are going to stay, there is a matter I wanted to address."
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 5, 2008 11:10:06 GMT -5
Nicolas tilted his head. Armand's wording puzzled him, although it did not trouble him - yet. There was always the possibility of it. Nicolas could not help what he was disturbed by. It wasn't something he had much control over.
"Would you have addressed it if I had wanted to leave?" he asked softly. But he was not refusing to hear out this matter in the least, and appeared attentive.
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Post by Armand on Dec 5, 2008 16:08:16 GMT -5
Armand tilted his head back, shifting the curls out of his face; his eyes lowered slighty, eyelashes shading the gaze directed at Nicolas and just keeping it from appearing a glare. The slight purse of his mouth was distinctly unamused.
"I couldn't help but find that the newest serial killer in Paris seems overly familiar."
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 5, 2008 16:27:18 GMT -5
((By the way, I think the new avatar is adorable.))
Nicolas shrugged almost delicately, but his posture was strong, if informal. He made no attempt to deny anything of it. Unconsciously following Armand's lead, he tilted his head as though to brush back his own curly hair, but instead of it sliding backwards, it disentangled a strand or two and they clung to his eyelashes as he blinked deliberately.
"If you want to be technical about it," he said unassumingly, "we're all of our kind serial killers."
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Post by Armand on Dec 5, 2008 16:42:25 GMT -5
"But some of us are messier in our eating habits than others." Faint stress on the "some." Armand was frowning faintly, exasperated with having to play this out again.
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