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Send 💬 for me to make you a starter with a random line of dialogue from this generator.
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louis gonna ask akasha to leave her man alone.
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also let's not be surprised if i make madeleine next episode.
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gimme lestat finding louis in san francisco-
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@roseguided asked: i didn't ask that. / akasha
"there is no other reason why i'm doing this. this interview is for myself." perhaps for daniel too. perhaps, something that lies under both of their memories and neither can recall. louis is aware that even as far as gloomy vampires go, he might be too gloom, claudia would say it's his catholic guilt overshadowing his moments when he allows himself to truly be a vampire. "i did overstep with daniel. . .he made a joke and i did not handle it properly."
it's the second time he had done so and this time it had felt cruel. on one hand, better, like lestat would tell him, the man would be proud of how easy he pulled that struggling memory and left the interviewer in tears. the other part of himself, the louis from new orleans is ashamed he did that. "i don't want to hurt daniel. he is important."
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“is there a panic room behind the stolen Rembrandt?” contender for the line of all time
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@journalsinblood asked: "The soldier that kills the other soldier first lives." - From Claudia
"We are not soldiers." He makes a point there as he recalls the images of war that they saw through Europe. There was a whole world out there regarding vampires now, and they had to be careful, a coven was not something either of them had experience and for once, he feels himself pushing the thought of Lestat away, how angry he felt, how guilty, how longing he looked at his portrait up the wall, when he knew all along there was another coven of vampires and they were hidden from them.
"We are here to belong, right? That's what you wanted, to find others like us, to have a home." It does not sit well with him though. He aches for New Orleans still, the bayou in his blood but he can not go back, at least for a few more decades, he would have to make Paris, and Claudia his home. Always for her.
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Eyes close as he feels the closeness. The thread of life and death, real and imagination goes untouched by him and sometimes he wants it to be real. He feels him so real in that moment, fear him, want him, desire him as he always did, hate him, miss him. Holding his body as a mockery of the pieta when it was his own hand that had drawn the last of Lestat's breath. But he is there now, in his mind, a constant reminder. "Because I killed you. Because I left you." Did he?
Claudia is not so far away and yet, his mind is on the man. Real, not real, his attention is all in Lestat, he misses the heartbeat beside his own, that beat at the same sound when they were in the same room. Eyes close, and shaky breathe open for words to leave him.
"Oui, je m'as manqué. Trop." Guilt is all he ever felt, he had felt free of it with Lestat but at one point that guilt returned and now it follows him. His eyes stare at the sky above, the stars his only witness, clear skylights eyes. "It's my curse. To live on this world, and miss you." To live and continue living on, watching the world pass him by and wondering when Lestat will return to him or if a return is desired.
𝓔ven gone, he was still alive. Haunting even the most ruinous corners of his lover’s mind, the red thread knotting them together for eternity ᵁᴺᴬᴮᴸᴱ to be severed. Despite Louis’ best efforts to wipe his hands clean of their torrid affair, he hadn’t tried hard enough. There was a deeply rooted satisfaction that pooled in his gut knowing with certainty that the mere thought of him could plague the other’s thoughts so heavily. That he had sunk his claws so deeply and was spared because of it.
Are you real … quite the question, one that brought a smile to his lips as he leaned in close … 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒, 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒, 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟. Delicate but equally as deadly fingers traversing the length of Louis’ arm to rest on his shoulder, as he’d done a million times before. A simple touch cementing the fact that he was here. He was real. He was a nightmare brought back to life, and he’d be damned if he ever let Louis break free of his grasp again. Fingers coil around his shoulder ᵀᴵᴳᴴᵀᴱᴿ as he finally speaks.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Now, why would I do that, mon cher?”
Loaded questions from a loaded gun of a man, ᴴᴬᴵᴿ ᵀᴿᴵᴳᴳᴱᴿ temper kept beneath wraps as he waited. Waited for him to spiral, unravel, to explain … did Louis believe he deserved death for his actions? He was the Judas to his Jesus, enacting an ultimate betrayal and sealing his ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ with a kiss, but with every hope that the man would be resurrected. Lestat had had all the time in the world to reflect and simmer in his own rage, configure a punishment that fit the crime. While a fool might leap towards taking an eye for an eye, he knew better. If Louis wanted to dispose of him, he’d retaliate by ensuring that he couldn’t. Not now, not ever. Ensnaring him by the bit at the back of his brain that still yearned for Lestat, for his love, as all powerful as it could be. That was the ultimate punishment.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“T'ai-je manqué?”
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His time in Europe only makes him think of him. Paris specially became a source of his dreams. He had thought of visit it with him one day, perhaps using his luring ways to get him to stop being secretive and show him a childhood home for Lestat had bare witness to the falling of his own. The death of Loius de Pointe du Lac who now finds himself missing him more than ever. Lestat is alive though, he has to. He is not sure and his mind often plays tricks with him, showing him like he used to be and others as the last time he saw him, pale and eyes blank of life.
Other times, he is dressed as fine as ever, piercing eyes that saw through him as sharp as t he first time they made contact. "Are you real?" He asks to the figure beside him, does he wish for him to real? Does he wish for Lestat to find him and end his life for what was done? Or perhaps he wishes for his love to return to him and forgive him for leaving him alive, although barely but with a chance. Green eyes look over and he looks so alive then, that perhaps he is looking at a memory. But Lestat never wore the same outfit twice, this one was new. "Are you going to kill me?" @lechroniques
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"It wasn't only my idea that he came here. You agreed to it." He wonders why at times, why had Armand agreed to it, although with conditions, for Daniel to come to Dubai for the interview. Like Morgan at his little time in Europe, Daniel had been, while a fumbling young boy, sometimes digging a path to the right questions. Age and perhaps the looming doom of one's demise with his illness, had made him sharper, and tired and cutting through some of Louis own delusions. He had been offended the first time the other had raised a wit back to him but now it felt like it was simply, a way a mortal like him defends himself.
"And now you will be on it. You think it gives us more control over the interview but he is no longer a fumbling boy. He is not afraid of us." Afraid of death perhaps, afraid of dying on a strange land, but of him? He doesn't think so. Perhaps Armand is the strange new thing that he might fear, if only because he hasn't seen what makes the other tick, or remembers their story. "It's our home but in the interview, we are at his mercy, we made an agreement. And I will let him conduct it as he pleases. So please, forgive his comments and probing." @mortange
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He does not wish to miss the shadow that looms over him. The road to Europe had been full of friction between him and Claudia and at last, it seem that Paris was gonna give them a new chance to rebuild their broken pact, and yet, perhaps the city is a mistake as it bears all reminders of the man who was his lover, maker, mentor and more. As french it would get and his mind thinks how Lestat would fit so easily in the parisian crowd. How without needing to stand out, Lestat would drive attention as he often does. "I told you not to come here." he speaks to his mind, that congures the image of a dead man before him and yet his eyes soften with guilt at the sight of a neck.
There is no longer blood but Louis remembers being so much of it, still the smell of it lingering in his hands. "You never told me of Paris. You barely spoke of your time here." Of France, what he knows had been enough for him to know him then and want him. What he told Paul about being raised with brothers and an overbearing father, the pressures of it, and his ire with God had been real, so raw, he felt it in his bones now. Was she worth it? The ghost whispers and he doesn't answer this time. "I imagined it to be more. . .you, I suppose." @sangore
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anyone knows where to find caps of the new season.
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hello y'all, i promised some people starters so imma do that here and on daniel.
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both daniel and louis are gonna be doing starters tomorrow and i'm excited hell yeah.
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ɪ'ᴍ ᴀɴ ᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ. ꜱᴏ ʟᴇᴛ'ꜱ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ.
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“ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ, ɪ ʟᴀɪᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ.”
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hit the heart for a starter based on season two premiere and premise.
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