Monday, January 30, 2006chapter six: Louis the sudden Intro
* I love Louis as much as Lestat! He is my baby. I will try my best to keep to their characteristics.
We walked up the stairs together. Our stairs is the straight up kind. My room is shared with my brother. Tonight he wasn’t in. Must be over at Matt’s house playing games or discussing football. I told him to be careful because the door was low.
Why is it so small? You’re not hobbits.---------- Lestat queried, straightening inside. I pulled up a chair. He looked back at the door, which has a Don’t disturb me! sign. I had made it myself, drawn a rockstar bashing a guitar. It would be what is gonna happen to the person who does piss me off.
Me and my bro don’t have a separate room. You know why? He’s a baby still:- he can’t sleep alone. I have to comfort him. He used to wet himself.
My friend laughed. I picked up his question, “Oh why so small? My family, if you’ve noticed, are all shorties. We don’t grown too much. It’s troublesome to be tall unless you’re a herbivore like a giraffe.”
My bro’s personal area is on the left hand side. His walls are painted forest green. His things are messy, consisting of leftover pizza crusts, old notes, scraps, dirty socks and linen all thrown in a heap. Thank goodness they were all hidden tonight, no doubt under his own bed. His dump I mean. His favorite soccer stars from Germany to Italy are plastered all over the wall and ceiling facing him. They are in pristine condition.
“He will see them and kinda talk to them when he’s going to doze off.”
“That’s normal. Does he want to meet them up close?” he defended him. Male with male what do you expect?
“Definitely.” Lestat nodded, declining my offer to get him a snack. He crossed his legs. I flopped on my bed, running my hands over my small book collection which was beside it against the wall.
My area is painted a comforting sky blue. I’m neater than Marc, but not that freakish neat either! In our Bratford’s lineage, I take after my father’s side most, loving books and cherishing them like my kids. I have never torn a single page or folded them. You could not believe this, my father the violent type liking books.Mostly periodicals about the going ons of Shapers, The Laws According to the 16th high Council (which is a reference book), an art book, some fiction like Fearless, Amy Tan, ghost stories which I never dare to touch again.
Lestat flipped through the ghost stories, raising his brows. When I asked why, he said that the authors were really bad. They should not be published.
“All crap I must say. Figments of the imagination.. I know how ghosts are, more spooky than the descriptions made here.”
“You can see spirits?” I was thinking: cool! He shook his head and said he did not want to scare me.
I showed him my humble stamp collection, about 3 books. That’s because I just place them in random order of recency. If I grouped them in countries, I would need ten large shelves to contain them all! The ones I get first are in front, follows to the back. I have no fixed grouping.
“Yes I remember now. I have some for you, but I forgot. I shall bring them next time. Inside my luggage. The Lord of the Rings? Is that really nice?” He picked up the thick volume and read the blurb. “It’s the newest if I’m not mistaken. The posters and promotions are all over the stores.”
I smiled to be polite. “I’ve only seen the movie. If not for the actors, I wouldn’t have! I don’t like
the book though. There are too many descriptions and scenery. I want the action. Are you more towards the action genre or romance?”
Lestat thought for a while, rubbed his chin. “Hmm, I’m undecided. It depends on my mood. When I’m tired, I like to see happy endings. When I’m excited and hyper, is it ok to use this word? Yes, I want the detective style and the mystery. I didn’t know you like action more? I always have the impression women go for Jane Austen classics. So, would you recommend LOTR to me?”
I pressed the book into his hands. “Try it. You can keep if you like.” My friend nodded, placed it carefully beside him on the table near the window. The curtains flapped while the howling winds vibrated the frames. It would start to rain in half an hour.
“Do you have a raincoat, umbrella?” I asked him, turning around.
“No. Ah, don’t fret my child. Vampires never get ill. Bianca, do you like poetry? Louis loves them so much. He will buy me anthologies every year for my birthday.”
I shook my head. Lestat seemed disappointed. Silence for a bit.
Then Lestat smoothed over the summary of the book. The triumph of good over evil is prevalent….. Bianca cherie, frankly, do you think I’m good?
Why do you ask? Of course! You saved me, let me stay free.
But I am a blood drinker. I have to. Does it mean I will always be your enemy? And the enemy of mortal beings? Can I never be close to you?
It was so true. Yes, a vampire is evil in all known definitions. They are lustful, take innocent blood to thrive, become stronger and stronger as ages pass, horror beings, things that should be extinct but defied extinction...
He added that he had made many blunders, leading to his fledglings.
“Louis was my child. And Claudia. The laws of our kind forbid Child vampires because of their vulnerable nature. Yet, I Made her because I wanted company. David too….. now don't you still think I’m evil?”
I didn’t know what to say. The easy mood had altered. Lestat De Lioncourt was now asking me how I felt, though we had met like only 2 weeks. Why? I did not think I had the right to comment.
It scared me at the time. I drew up my own defenses and shrugged. I do not know. He was quiet, his bright unnatural eyes shimmering. Tears, pain, or hurt?
Say it! Say you hate me! It will not be true if you do not. Mortals condemn evil. How can you be an exception? Dare I have hope? I was forced to become what I am now. I loath the very creature who Changed me against my will. As much as I loath myself during the hardest times!
He had never mentioned the person before. I sensed his name but Lestat hid it from me, shaking with emotion. I watched him critically.
“Tell me. How did you become a vampire?”
The blond guy blinked, lifted his face from his hands. Tears trekked down the smooth skin.
He cocked his head. Ok. He showed my images of what happened to him. Black and white Magnus. The One who Made me, when I was an innocent boy. He killed my dogs. I should not have killed the wolves. I regret to this day! You have to be responsible for the fledglings you create. You got to teach, to guide them.
I listened, nodding. Lestat did not notice. His mood was half in the past. I did not really comprehend at the time. We had just akimmed the surface. His mood was so terribly tumultuous, dark and brooding that I did not ask any questions. I just remained his faithful audience.
Lestat spoke on faster, wrought with the past tangles, clenching his fist at this point. I absorbed the film show telepathically. It is no problem for Shapers to be able to decipher picture images. But I had not been taught to harness it properly yet, so I could not fully comprehend.
His smooth and flowing voice was like a torrent escaping from a dam.
But No! Mon Dieu. He committed suicide. I was left alone, weak, starving, dying. Another vampire was kind enough to rescue me, guide me into who I am. He taught me how to be strong, the techniques and the proper laws. How to select victims. The most memorable image was of his homeland, snowy France forests. The lush cool pine trees, the wolves howling. The huge castle of the De Lioncourts.
“Bianca, you get me so far? I am sorry if you do not…. What bad manners I have,” he told me, apologetically. “I will explain to you.”
“It is all right. You are very upset. Um, what happens? The person does not die immediately after you drain his blood right?” he nodded. “You?”
“Whatever information he has at the time I will also obtain. It is all revealed to me. Much faster than scanning the mind. You follow me. Good. Bianca, I have felt much remorse, much self-hatred. Sometimes I justify, he or she needed me. But it was the other way round. I am needier of people than they are of me! It is much too late.” All this in perfect American English, except when he referred to his mortal hood he used French. Of course I did not comprehend French. If I asked him to repeat? Nah, impolite.
“Do you bleed? Does it feel painful?” Anything but back to that morbid darkness. I did not want to start crying, mind you, I’m not a crybaby. But his story was enough to make me feel weepy.
“We feel pain. We’re just not human. Our blood is richer, a darker crimson than human blood.” I nodded solemnly. Lestat smiled.
“You’re so kind to me. I feel thankful you’re with me tonight.”
The rains started as I predicted, blown sideways by the wind. He moved so quickly I did not have time to react and we were close. He put his arms about me, from behind. I tried to disentangle myself. Lestat did not let go.
He penetrated the weak shield I had erected around my mind. I shook. He tried to convince me to join him. I am so lonely tonight. My child. You can save me. Please say yes. I will make it painless for you.
"No Lestat! You cannot! You gave me your word! Vampires can’t take shaper’s blood!" I cried mentally and aloud. I transformed and flew to the windows. Shit! He shut them with his mind.
I was cornered. I froze, eyes large connecting with his. Lestat pushed me to the wall and his cold breath chilled my face. I am so dead! I should not have let him in my room. My parents were sleeping so soundly. No force on earth could stop this preternatural. Ok, but I was not giving up without a struggle.
I dove under his legs, just as he opened his mouth and the fangs were sharp as needlepoints…..
“Oh Louis. How did you find us here?” Lestat said. He shook his head.
There. Louis de Pointe Du Lac came that night in the shower. All black, hovered at my window.
He stepped in, bowing to me. Then kissed my hand. He had ethereal emerald pupils. His touch felt warm.
“Forgive Lestat. He is rash and impetuous. Go and feed!” Lestat obediently climbed out. He kept telling me mentally how sorry he was over and over, but I blocked it out. How dare he! How dare he hurt me like this? A small part whined, it was because he was lonely. Do not blame him. He just wanted someone and I fitted that criteria. I identified with him. Who is Claudia?
Louis and me were negotiating the crowds at the marketplace, where Lestat and I had walked. I felt deeply disappointed. The other guy was gentle, amiable and did not scare me so much. In fact I almost forgot he is not human.
“So did my Maker talk to you? I am sure he is sorry for what he has done.”
“Yea right. Does he not keep his word? I’m so pissed! He gave me a love letter and flowers.”
“Louis, can you fly? Lestat says he has a lot of powers. You flew up to my place right?” I changed the topic excitedly. I walked backwards, jumping. Louis smiled.
“Um, I cannot. At least it must have been panic that made me, propelled me into the air. If I were to fly longer, I would crash! I can read minds to a small extent. The only thing I can really do is write poetry and a little music… no no , the lyrics, not the music. That is Lestat and Armand’s area of expertise.”
“Do not be modest. THAT’s plenty of talent. Ah you can see the stars! Potential astronomer! ” I praised. He went red. He was still in black tonight but wore red sports shoes. He would not have gotten red but his vision is in dark colors. They were more comfortable than the hard polished shoes of the old days.
He had tied up his soft hair to keep it from fluffing about. I asked him how he had located us. “I was coming by to see Lestat. I was feeling fedup of living alone in a dump. I packed all my stuff. There is something you should know: we do not Read each other’s minds. The mentor and the fledglings’ minds are closed. I reached his place here and set down my things. The nightshift lady told me Lestat had gone to your place.”
I lifted up my finger. “That is when you arrived. But… how?”
“Our hearing is exceptional. Lestat was so excited with you and you were this blue shade beside him. Then it became red. With panic. I could not fly, but I had no time if I had chosen to knock. So I willed myself up,” Louis explained, frowning. To him it seemed like a complex method of speaking and processing. I did a thumbs up. He smiled sweetly.
We walked towards the forest. Freemandling has forests in abundance, so it is actually a semi-urban mostly rural place. A few street lamps, but otherwise little or no light.
Hello Louis. Bianca. I tensed. The demon! Louis could not feel him. I stepped behind him. A silhouette emerged from the shadows in front of us. The golden haired demon took his hands from his pockets and smiled, his bright eyes shadowed by the dimness. I was angry.
“Why do you come here for? Go away!” I spat. He walked nearer and Louis was still. He asked me to stay close, Lestat could not touch me. I held him tightly. Lestat seemed very hurt, but he was still determined. He produced a bunch of fresh roses.
“Cherie, I am sorry. I know, I was very very bad. Please do not hate me. I cannot bear it if you did… I like you. It will be sad if you hate me,” he coaxed. I did not speak, my chest tight and full. He let his lids flutter for a moment.
“You made me who I am, Lestat. Don’t make another mistake!”
“Damnit Louis! You asked me for the Gift remember. And you came between us so nothing happened. Argh!” the blond cursed, chopping motion. The flowers bounced. He then directed a pleading look at me. If I did not take the bouquet, it would all be gone. I have a soft heart for living plants.
The two vampires were now arguing. Go go, I will stall time, Louis urged me.
Please, Bianca. Don’t walk away from me. I have given myself to you. I will do anything. Just, don’t leave me! Give me another chance. We're friends.
“Lestat are you denying that you gave me your blood now? Bianca deserves to know the whole truth. You could have refused me. The ethical part of you should have!” Wow! So the soft spoken introvert has a temper.
The other vampire was tearing at his hair. I noticed his shirt was in rags, he looked as if he had swum in the lake or something, all soaked to the bone. What if he got ill? Stop it. I hate him, the dishonorable thing! Fiend. Lestat reminded his fledge to be grateful, after all he granted him new life. A reason to continue earth existence. I guess they were romantic lovers. Homosexual huh? It seemed that way.
Who’s Claudia? No one responded, or was reluctant to. Lestat ranted and raved to the trees. Louis signaled. I came down. Mild surprise registered as I slid down, willing off my wings. “My talent. I shapeshift. It’s nothing really.”
I peeked at Lestat who was still muttering to himself, pacing. “Is he gone insane?”
Louis rolled his eyes. Amusing. “He will be himself later. Let’s go. But actually he isperfectly harmless. Back home Marius and the coven called him Brat Prince.”
Play Pretend. Louis laughed musically.
Ok. Here he is. Right now the French gentleman appeared, shining in his charisma. Now that we were near the theatre, some of the people turned their heads to stare. Of course. He was in old fashioned lace, coupled with a green coat. He ignored them, even avoiding some squealing girls. They clung to him but he pushed them away. When more and more of them followed, the Immortal glared. This suddenly did an about- turn for the people.
“What were you talking about? Gossiping about me Louis cher? Wanna watch some movies? I got some tickets. It’s very nice, a war show. You like action right?”
I clung to Louis. “Hey since when did we ask you out? We were having private time. She will be returning home soon.”
“Rubbish. Your parents are out.” He had read my mind. All the more pissing to me.
“I don’t accept your apology ok? I am very sleepy,” I feigned, yawning. His composure crumpled. In his soul he sang in agony. Switch of attitude to persuasion.
“It is the newest show. The very first slot is tonight. I guarantee you will like it! I got the tickets already. Please, plleeeeease,” Lestat repeated, stepping in front of me. I was face to face with his nice lacey shirt. He showed me the tickets for the 11 o’clock show. “I will listen to you, ok? I promise. I will be your slave from tonight on. Want popcorn? Come.”
“He is hurt enough. Normally Lestat is like that. But one thing is, he is very serious in his friendships. His Blackwood farm friends swear by this. I will have to stay to make sure he won’t go along. Look, he's all eager and puppylike. Isn't he cute?”
The golden haired angel waited, grinning. He bouoght a generous big tub of popcorn. I remembered how he had saved me, lent me hospitality, of his letter. Of how he had trusted me enough to speak of his terribly anguished childhood. This cheeriness was a brave front. The real Lestat de Lioncourt was a wounded youth of 21 and why he revealed this to me was a true mystery. I’m just a bird in the skies of many. Why am I the One?
“Bianca, so you will forgive me?”
I ignored the question, munching the chips. Yum yum. “You meant it when you said you’ll be my slave? Louis is witness.”
“I swear it. If I don’t I shall cut off my tongue.”
I shuddered. He smiled. Yea he knew I could not possibly want that to happen. Inside, I took the aisle seat and at first I wanted Louis beside me. But Lestat asked me to go in, and he occupied my right. Louis took the left. You shouldn’t sit outside. Someone may molest you. We can protect you.
Aha, you won’t? I said mockingly.
No! I will prove to you that I am not a pervert. Bianca! I’m a good boy. Lestat whined.
Then we were absorbed into the story of two brothers fighting a war and ending up on the opposite sides. Louis watched with a childlike fascination. Lestat was impassive. We did not have to speak, though I did whisper stuff to them. Mostly we conversed via telepathy, which was a big help so we didn’t disturb others.