manuscriipts - Tumblr blog

[manuscriipts]

"well, seeing as how this dump is one health code violation away from being labeled a dive bar ... i don't think you're gonna have to deal with it being overrun anytime soon." daniel muttered with a shrug and amused twitch of his lips. waving towards the bartender and mouthing his order over the length of the bar, he's met with a pint set before him. oh, what the hell - not exactly the cosmopolitan he wanted but after the day he's had, he'll take it. daniel glance at the guy beside him again, a frown drawing his brows together. " 'not so busy tonight' ? no offense but you don't exactly look like the type to frequent this joint ... what are you, like, 20 ?"

"not at all, go for it." ricky told him with a slight nod. this was his second time at this bar, just recently turning 21 but he was not really a huge drinker. However, the atmosphere wasn't so bad. "i'm glad it's not so busy tonight. i don't think i could handle the crowd if it was."

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if someone were to question him later on, daniel would vehemently deny how the sound of that guy's voice knocked the wind out of his sails for a good minute there. like, this went past goosebumps or a shiver down your spine. it's not the first time he's felt like this - although, trying to look back on it, the memory seems weirdly distant and hazy now - but ... hell, it's been a hot minute since mere eye-contact nearly sent him into a coma. shit, he really needed to get laid, didn't he.

"uh, no - no worries, man. you're good. happens. i should know, huh?" all muttered more to himself and into himself as he bent down to retrieve his stray paper, putting the whole stack into his bag. "should've put 'em in my bag in the first place." it must've only been a second or two, to daniel it felt like a lifetime of awkward silence between the two of them, which he desperately sought to break. "uh ... pretty confident stride you got there, man. "

at this point lestat was just trying to find a snack, to get his mind off of everything that happened with louis. in fact it took everything in him to not grab the nearest person and just drag them into an alley. no, he had to be much calm and collected about it. there would be too much of a mess otherwise. it was like he was in his own little world. his vison was so skewed. perhaps that was why it was sop easy for him to run in to someone. at first he wanted to snarl, to put them in their place.

but all words seemed to escape him as he looked down at the other. there were familiar eyes that looked back up at him; though it seemed that he was not familiar to the other. in the end he chuckled and played right in to it. after all, why not have a little bit of fun. "oh course. my apologize." his voice was low, almost a purr, as he moved his foot slowly off the paper in question. "i certainly to apologize. i should have been watching where i was going."

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daniel molloy & brinna javik ( @wvsteria )

"no, no, no, no, no!" accompanied by a litany of curses muttered more or less under his breath as he basically flew down the stairs of the metro station. a skilled and practiced jump over the faregate - maybe his best one yet, shame he can't revel in his success - his metro card left at home, of course, he proceeds at supernatural speed. if he doesn't make this train he's going to be stuck here. not for too long but a good few hours and after the day he's had, it's not exactly his idea of a nice evening. "come on, come on..." spurring himself on, looks like he just made it in the nick of time - " hold the door! jesus, hold the doo-" met with what he could only describe as an amused yet bewidlered expression on the person standing closest to the door, daniel's shoulders drop in disappointment as the doors closed in front of him, the train whirring to a start before it's out of sight. daniel released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "man, what is it, asshole day? why is nobody holding the freaking- damn it!" now acutely of how out of breath he actually was, his attempt at kicking whatever inanimate object is closes to him in frustration fails horribly. the leg of the bench is, as it turns out, very unforgiving and, while daniel hops on one leg following that realisation, the contents of his bag decide to empty themselves out onto the floor of the subway station.

standing there for a moment, simply ... looking, taking it in, in a sort of freeze-frame 'yup, that's me, you probably wonder how i got myself in this situation' movie moment, he didn't register the eyes on him until a moment later. he wants to actually sink into the ground now, please. " .... i was gonna say i hope you didn't see that but ... unlikely, huh ? "

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daniel molloy & angel ( @mischiefxmuses )

every now and again, his job does manage to surprise him. like when they actually make true on their promised 'perk' of fresh fruit at the office, or when the miserable lunch he puts into the office fridge is actually still there come midday - or when they somehow manage to find the funds to hire a private investigator for a story. with a rush and a push daniel shoved his way through the crowded streets, trust his boss to send him out to deliver some files dring rush hour, a displeased frown frozen on his features. all those hours and he's still only the middleman. if anything should be investigated, it should be the mystery of what hole that paper magically pulled the money for this stunt from, when they struggled with paying daniel a minimum wage.

lost in his thoughts circling the unfortunate circumstance of not having been born into a filthy rich family, daniel nearly collided with someone. and, hey, look at that! " you the guy i'm looking for? the ... what was it, p.i ? detective? " he gave a shrug, didn't really care much either way if he was honest, still subconciously simmering in the indignation of having been reduced to errand boy. with a frown he consulted the note his boss had pushed at him on his way out the door. " ' angel ' ? "

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lips parted and stuck on an inhale, daniels eyes widened as he took in the scene in front of him. he's not entirely sure what renders him speechless for a hot minute there ( and that's quite a feat, seeing as daniel had pretty much made yapping his career ) - there's the floating in mid-air, of course, and the red orbs this dude seemed to have in place for eyes. there's also the fact that he looks like he's jumped right out of a botticelli painting and daniel's mouth suddenly felt awfully dry- clearing his throat in a feeble attempt to cover up the flush surely spreading over his entire body now, he crossed his arms over his shoulder. "uh... right. yeah, let's just gloss over that. 'cause that's, like, super normal." daniel muttered, more to himself, as he tried to collect his thoughts. "i'm looking for - i don't know, if i'm totally honest... do you have something on, like, the history of weird shit happening around here? aynthing specific to washington, the area in general?"

Armand's occult-themed bookstore, of course, was only meant for a specific type of vampire; as he had recently learned that there were numerous kinds of vampires here, in the city. He did not expect that, nor did he expect a human to come walking into his store. He picked up on the smell of him immediately -- Daniel Molloy. Armand seemingly floats over to him, and to the front counter, before settling his feet down onto the floor again. He expected the other man to be old and frayed, as he had been before, but no. Daniel was young again. What did he remember? "Always so ill-tempered," He whispers under his breath, not sure if the other would recognize him. "What is it you are looking for, exactly?"

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daniel molloy & armand ( @empathiie )

could this, perhaps, be considered a new low? a quick glance down at the piece of paper his boss had handed him - yup, that's the right adress - daniel sighed, looked left and right before he decided to screw it, pushed open the door to the occult book store. he'd had to research some pretty unusual stuff in his day, some of his oddest stuff having been assigned to him nowhere but nyu's own newspaper, but it seemed as if the satanic panic had taken hold of washington, d.c. only about, say, fourty years late. occult happenings in the capitol .... he could only sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he wandered into the store.

it fit the description of occult bookshop, alright. a slight gasp escaped his lips as his gaze travelled upwards - some optical illusion, it had to be. whoever owned this store needed to give the interior designer a raise, like, yesterday. as cool as it looked, daniel found himself frowning as he squinted to make out some of the titles on the book's spines. " what is this, a bookstore for freaking superman ... " now, daniel wasn't short by any means. but it also happened that he couldn't fly, either. which was an issue, when faced with flying bookshelves, of course.

and, since he was absolutely not going to run across the city in search of another 'supernatural' bookshop, he had no choice but to drag his feet over to the counter, currently unmanned. fingers drumming restlessly against polished wood, where was a customer service bell when you needed one? a click of his tongue, another sigh until he finally gave in, called out into the nothingness.

" uh, hello ? anybody in ? " daniel pursed his lips, his fingers playing a continous beat against the counter. " paying customer here ... how the hell is anybody supposed to get those books, huh ? ... hello ?"

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daniel molloy & lestat de lioncourt ( @vcndetta )

there's virtually nothing different about today, daniel's hurrying down the busy streets as usual, eager to beat the rush hour and get home as fast as humany possible. bag hanging loosely off his shoulder, a folder of loose pages and his notebook tucked under his arms as he pushed his way through the crowds. one noticeable difference, however, is a confident stride coming towards him, not moving out of his way. daniel's tunnel vision - eyes on the prize, the prize in question being the nearest subway station - is disturbed as he roughly collides with the other's shoulder, causing him to trip and scatter his notes all around him. " jesus fucking - " muttered insults and curses fell from his lips as he bent down, quickly gathering up muddied pages before the next breeze had a chance of distributing his work all over the pavement. " damn it, man, can you watch where you're fucking go - "

the litany of swearwords is interrupted, however, as daniel looked up, suddenly making eye contact with the bluest eyes he's ever seen in his life, vision clouded by someone he could only describe as preternaturally beautiful. his heart honest to god skipped a beat, maybe a couple, and he stayed crouch down looking up, staring, for way longer than appropriate, acceptable or sane. when he finally had the power to stand up again it took a couple more moments until he'd regained the ability to speak. " uh ... " great start, daniel. his eyes darted down quickly, then back up to meet the other's gaze again. " could you just - you're kind of standing on... " he gestured down to where a stray page was trapped under his sole. " ... yeah... "

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talk about getting swept off your feet - daniel had only a split second to register what was going on, briefly locking eyes with the young man next to him, before his feet gave out under him, or rather the stool. " mother - " couldn't even get his swearing out in full, that's how taken by surprise he was to suddenly find himself on the floor. well, not entirely - his elbow hovering weirdly over him, a grip on his upper arm holding him somewhat upright. " jeez, man, give a guy a warning before knocking him on his ass."

brushing invisible dust from his knees - you know, like an old man - daniel slowly got up, slinging his back onto the counter, stray sheets of paper spilling out. " you could've just said the seat's taken. " said entirely dryly and with a little scoff, but all in good fun - well, the 'good' part certainly was debatable. some people might call daniel's cynicism and sarcastic sense of humor all but 'bad' fun. he made sure that the stool was actually solid on the ground behind him before making another attempt at sitting down - this time successful. blowing a strand of hair from his face, he looked over at the other. rather, at his laptop. curiosity always got the better of him. "huh. hard at work or hardly workin' ? you know, when you're not not currently sweeping poor, unsuspecting guys off their feet. "

It was far from the first time -and highly unlikely to be the last- that RJ found himself completely engrossed in his work, in a very public place. It wasn't necessarily a conscious decision either, so much as an inability to have a thought or idea pertaining to his work that he didn't immediately want to do some form of follow through on. It was like he was physically incapable of putting something on the back-burner, as folks said, or just simply make a note of it and come back to it later. As it stood, his eyes were zeroed in on the screen of the laptop he'd opened up in the middle of the bar, and his mind was miles away from the goings-on around him.

Which, in turn set of a disastrous chain of events: someone's voice registered a second later than it should have, the idea the comment may have been directed at him followed a second after that, and in his haste to acknowledge the person quickly to make up for the delay and not seem rude, RJ managed to turn around a bit to fast and have his leg knock out the stool as the guy went to sit on it... "Shit! Sorry!" Was the only thing he managed as he reached out to keep the guy from hitting the floor entirely.

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truth be told, he hadn't exactly expected an answer, felt it was rather that kind of question someone just mumbled a more or less disgruntled acknowledgement to before both parties went back to minding their own business. and yet here here he got his answer and daniel failed at surpressing a deep sigh, shrugging his bag off his shoulder and placing it on the bar. " courtesy, manners, appearances, whatever, take your pick, i guess. " a signal to the bartender, a few moments later daniel found himself with a grasshopper in hand. " not exactly like i was interrupting anything here, was i. bar's reserved for loners and businessmen contemplating infidelity. and you don't strike me as a business person, so. "

one of the few outings ziggy had was to this bar. still isolated from the rest of the world in their own dark corner of the room, but it was still a step in the right direction nonetheless. having a companion in this corner, however, was one step too far for their comfort. the lie was at the tip of their tongue, but he didn't even give them the chance to tell it. "i guess it is now. why bother even asking?"

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first order of business, after pushing open the doors to whatever more or less respectable bar his feet had led him to, is taking off his glasses, fingers immediately coming up to rub at the bridge of his nose. been a day and a half. tired eyes blink as they try to adjust to the dimmed lighting. six months in and he's till exactly where he started - trying to unwind after a god-awful nine to five at this crappy local paper. man, he wished he could be one of those people that relaxed after a long day at work by cooking a nice, healthy dinner and going to bed early. but here he is, draft of his novel that he'll probably never finish under his arm, approaching the bar. " this seat taken ? " daniel doesn't bother waiting for an answer before sliding onto the stool.

( @hiddenstarters / open starter ! )

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' “jesus,  do  it  yourself,”  daniel  had  roared.  “you’re  five  hundred  years  old  and  you  can’t  use  a  telephone?  read  the  directions.  what  are  you,  an  immortal  idiot ?  "  '

was  that  ALEX  FITZALAN?  oh  no  no,  that  was  just  DANIEL  MOLLOY,  a  CANON  CHARACTER  from  THE  VAMPIRE  CHRONICLES.  they  are  TWENTY-THREE  years  old,  use  HE/HIM,  and  ARE  NOT  aware  that  they  are  not  actually  from  washington  dc. 

pinterest / playlist.

how long has your character been here ?

daniel has been in washington for about six months, after dropping out of his journalism class at nyu ( which is scarily true to the actual real-life chain of events ), or so he thinks.

what is your character's job ?

picking up right where he left off, in a way, he's writing columns at some local paper. daniel's still hoping to make it as a writer one day - there's even a draft of a novel he's meaning to finish but he just can't seem to remember what the book was about ...

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom ?

about a year to two years after the first interview in san francisco - at the beginning of daniel's devil's minion arc, playing cat and mouse with a vampire across the continents.

has any magic affected your character ?

not really, except for the missing memories, of course - although they do come to him in dreams, sometimes. he'll wake up and start to doubt his entire life, basically. he'll wake up and there'll be just a chunk of his former life placed neatly back into his brain. - additionally, daniel's not addicted to vampire blood anymore, for some reason.

and any other information you might find useful for us and the other members to know!!

a lot on daniel can be found here ( x ) and here ( x ). as far as canon stuff goes, i'm definitely placing him in show canon with elements of the books, seeing as the show hasn't gotten to daniel's chapter in 'queen of the damned' yet.

aside from that he's really just your average cynical aspiring writer ! now that he's not busy being chased around europe by his vampire lover he'll probably just sit down and try to write a book by trying to piece his memories together.