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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 10, 2008 15:22:04 GMT -5
Oh, the irony of Nicolas being seen as childlike. His own petulance at the comparison - in light of his favorite method of mocking Armand - might have led to chair-breaking, and it was enormously fortunate that Nicolas had never been in the habit of poking around other vampires' minds. Besides, he might have infuriated his host.
"Ah," said Nicolas, eyes still on the glass. He wondered how Aurel managed to keep it thin as it was. In Nicolas' experience, it always clotted far too quickly, blood cells separating. He took another drink. "I would miss it dreadfully. I myself am known as a vampire in this city," he went on somewhat ambiguously, although perhaps his bloodstained color gave him away. And if Aurel followed the news he might have been aware of the sensational and lurid story of Paris' most recent serial killer. Nicolas wondered suddenly if Armand had heard it, and a small smile crept into his lips.
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Post by Aurel on Dec 10, 2008 15:43:15 GMT -5
Aurel studied Nicolas's face, noticing a faint smile playing on his lips. In fact he had heard of the serial killer that had recently put the entire city in fear. But he didn't think that much of whom that might have been, until he met Nicolas.
"Well, it's not myself I'm worried about. If it were up to me, I probably wouldn't have cared as much if people knew what I am as I do now." He remembered well how his daughter had insisted on him being careful, not giving away his true nature. Aurel knew she asked him that out of her concern for him, but he only did it out of his concern for her. If it people knew what he was, things might get hard on her too. He couldn't bare that.
He glanced up at Nicolas once more. "Who is that friend of yours you had intentions of visiting?"
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 10, 2008 15:52:24 GMT -5
"He used to have a coven under Les Innocents here," Nicolas said casually. "Someone...someone I used to know broke it up after he became a vampire. I suppose he's still bitter about it," he mused. He finished the drink and set the glass down very carefully, looking for a moment very much the polite guest, and certainly not as though his host had threatened his life moments before. "I believe he asked him to stay with him afterwards, but he left anyway."
It did occur to him that he should not be very specific about Armand, but provided Aurel could not trace anything Nicolas said about his history back to Armand himself, NIcolas felt he could say most anything he damn well liked. There was a good deal of irony, however, in the fact that while he had laid rather bare something about Armand that Armand probably would not want to be spoken of, he had been enormously careful about mentioning Lestat and his own relations with him. Unfortunately it meant he had rather cut out his own connection to Armand, save through this mysterious "him" they both had known.
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Post by Aurel on Dec 11, 2008 8:02:12 GMT -5
Aurel frowned as Nicolas clearly chose not to speak his friend's name. Was there anything to hide? Or did he think Aurel would seek him out and... do what? Suddenly very irritated, he eyed Nicolas fiercly and asked, his voice a little too sharp: "What's his name?"
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 11, 2008 11:41:33 GMT -5
Nicolas took note of the change in tone and manner in his customary way, which is that he did not realize or care about the implications of it. He picked at the dirt and blood that he noticed was beneath his glassy fingernails while he spoke.
"I won't say it," he said. "It would humiliate him more than even I want to if you knew his name without his knowing yours. I'd make up a name but that would just be foolish. Best leave it at the pronoun. Besides," he said, pausing to reflect, glancing up for a moment although not seeing anything. "I don't think the name I know him by is his name. Or at least, it didn't use to be."
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Post by Aurel on Dec 11, 2008 14:42:46 GMT -5
"I see" Aurel nodded. He still was irritated, he wanted to know. People always did what he told him to. Nicolas was one of the few who dared to oppose him - and he wasn't even afraid. The only other who had dared to, besides his beloved one and his daughter, was Vincent. Aurel glared at the karaff on the table, and got up from his chair to see if there was any more blood in it. There barely was. He sighed as he graciously walked over to some books and glared at them instead. He didn't know what to say to Nicolas anymore.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 11, 2008 14:56:16 GMT -5
Again, completely unconscious of the affect it might produce, Nicolas slid into the chair Aurel had recently been occupying. He leaned against the side of it, breathing in the smell of dried blood on his collar, one eye shut. The other watched Aurel.
He had his own questions.
"Why did you allow me to stay here? Why didn't you just throw me out in the sun to burn? That's why I'm still here. I want to know."
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Post by Aurel on Dec 11, 2008 15:31:39 GMT -5
Aurel didn't turn around to meet Nicolas's eyes. "I don't know" he started. He stood silent for a short while, then slowly turned around, facing him. "However I guess it might have been because you remind me of somebody I know. And you have a dark side that reminds me of myself when I was much younger."
The fact that he hadn't seen Vincent for so long really bothered him. Was he still alive at all? When Nicolas had acted so rude and thoughtless, it had reminded him so much of Vincent back when they first met, he couldn't just kill him right away.
"But I haven't said you can stay here for eternity, kid. I may throw you out when I get bored or when you piss me off", he added with a viscous grin.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 11, 2008 15:45:19 GMT -5
The slang coming from the vampire lord's mouth was dizzyingly incongruous, at least for someone like Nicolas who had trouble keeping up with things as it is. It did make Aurel difficult to remain indifferent to, however. The corner of Nicolas' mouth turned upward into a grim smile without his permission.
"I haven't said I wanted to stay forever," said Nicolas, crossing his legs casually, seemingly unruffled, despite the smile. "I came here as a last resort. I've got to get a coffin soon, and someplace to put it. Until then I suppose I will keep breaking into places." For the moment he broke off, musing, wondering where in the world he would place a coffin. It would not have bothered him that the theatre was no more except for this problem, that he had never in his life stayed anywhere else, and now had nowhere to stay. And he was not comfortable enough sleeping in a stranger's bed - a bed, as though he were mortal - to remain here.
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Post by Aurel on Dec 11, 2008 15:59:36 GMT -5
Aurel nodded. There would be a little difficult to find a place to keep his coffin where no one woul notice it. The mostly annoying humans were too nosy for their own good. He first thought of offering an other room than Vincents' that Nicolas could place his coffin in - there were rooms to spare, but he was unsure that neither one of them actually would want that. But nonetheless, Aurel once more felt he couldn't just toss him out. Nicolas seemed way to unstable, he might to even more crazy if things got too messy for him, Aurel thought. "You can have a room for your coffin here, until you find a good place, if you'd like." he said firmly. "When you meet that friend of yours, maybe he'll help you out then."
Aurel had no idea of Nicolas's relationship with this 'friend' of his - but he had guessed it wasn't that good for now. But it seemed that Nicolas had a strong bond to him, so maybe it would be alright after all.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 11, 2008 16:08:19 GMT -5
Nicolas scoffed, breath just escaping his mouth, without realizing that this might sound as though he were scorning Aurel's suggestion or his hospitality. The word Armand and the word friend were not synonymous, and it was darkly funny to think of Armand spoken of that way.
"He is hardly my friend," said Nicolas, looking back at Aurel with such an intense look in his eyes that it was doubtful he was really seeing the other vampire. "It's his fault I'm still walking this godforsaken earth. Didn't scatter the ashes, I suppose..." His voice trailed off. He did not believe Armand when he had expressed his innocence in the matter. Beyond that, he was not certain that the chances of his living with Armand were very slim. The ghost of blood in his mouth, suddenly; he thought of the past, of the theatre, of living with Armand then. Demanding that he come and read this play now, hear this song he'd written, for the pianoforte or for the harpsichord, for the violin, to be sung. Feeding carefully, then speaking to Armand the rest of the night about the chaos and the lack of order and the need for it, his theories on how the theatre structured things, his plans to change everything.
All those plans had fallen apart, and he was unnerved to think of that longing to return to that, to return to that sort of co-existence with Armand. He did not know it, but the momentary sharp wistfulness and the sudden vulnerability it had left him in all showed on his face. He looked for a moment as though he were going to drop down into a faint onto the floor or something, but he just folded his arms over his chest, shoulders slightly hunched, as though a young mortal man trying to ward off the cold.
"Perhaps," he said, though to what he was replying, it was uncertain. "I'll look into a coffin this night or the next." He opened his mouth to thank Aurel for having let him stay here, regardless, but no words came out, and he looked supremely preoccupied.
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Post by Aurel on Dec 11, 2008 16:27:39 GMT -5
It all became much clearer now that Nicolas had let Aurel know whom he had been talking about before. There would always be a kind of connection and a certain bond to the one who hade made one into a vampire. Aurel would never forget Dracula, who turned him into what he was so long ago. He would always have respect for him, yet always feel a kind of hate for him. He realised Nicolas might be into a really difficult and twisted situation, if he still had strong connections with his maker. Aurel had run into Dracula now and then, but there weren't the same tension between them as it had been before. As the years had gone by, he had just tried to forget about his cruel maker. He watched Nicolas in silence, leaving him to his own thought for a short moment.
"You do as you wish." he then finally said, turning back to the books, studying them as if he almost forgotten what books he actually had in here.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 11, 2008 16:35:29 GMT -5
Had Armand made him, Nicolas' behavior might have been excusable, but he hadn't, of course. Nicolas did not realize just how ambiguous his use of the male pronoun had been, but this might have been best. Had Aurel known that it was simply a matter of petulance - that Armand had simply thwarted his immature desires and that there was nothing so complex in his feelings towards Lestat - he might have sneered at him and thrown him out right then.
Nicolas watched his host impassively, feeling drained as though of his own blood, veins still hollow with the shock of what had just happen. He rubbed his shoulders as though to encourage circulation, once again in a completely unconsciously mortal way - and tilted his head again. "How old are you?" he asked again, an impudent question, although gently spoken.
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Post by Aurel on Dec 11, 2008 16:50:30 GMT -5
Aurel's expression was thoughtful as he tried to remember all of the years wich had passed. But it was no use, he couldn't remember it perfectly - and therefore he shook his head as he answered. "I don't know. I don't remember. It has been too long... But my guess is over 350 years. It may be over four hundred, I truly don't remember. And in comparsion to other vampires, my numbers are nothing." he said dryly with an ironic smile.
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Post by Nicolas de Lenfent on Dec 11, 2008 17:10:10 GMT -5
Nicolas had gotten the impression that Aurel was older than he was, but he had attributed it to the age he looked and behaved in comparison, not his literal age. He was not entirely surprised, and raised his eyebrows nonetheless. He was the same age as Armand. Thinking of Aurel beside Armand was almost overwhelming for him suddenly, the sharp difference between them.
"I have a sudden sharp sense of my own youth," he said, almost a pass at humor but for his serious expression. His lips curled grimly, in almost a smirk, but an appreciative one - he was thankful for Aurel's honesty.
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