"Betrayed by your body again... Betrayed upwards, is the hope."
Louis watches Kieren's hands with interest. "Damn crazy..." he mutters to himself, but loud enough for Kieren to hear. "Like that thing I saw about the bag milk... Ain't natural..." Kieren sounds English, so Louis summarily adds Capri-Suns to the list of England's crimes.
Louis imagines the creatures in shoddy pulp fiction and garish movies, the mindless nameless things little better than rabid dogs meant to be put down. The beautiful vampire stalking parlors, what Lestat taught him to be, is entirely different. Unnatural, preternatural, a wolf in sheep's clothing, a vampire for Lestat's modern age and the more sensual of gothic fictions. Which begs the question, what does the vampire of Louis's modern age look like?
"A vampire who brings the town down on him with torches and pitchforks has slipped. No one ever writes about some guy settin' traps in his home so he can bite the rats later like your little Capri suns."
Louis has slipped in Milton. He bit people in hunger. He outed himself to others when he was in need. Part of it is his loneliness and part of it his appetite for self destruction.
"Here we go, deer tracks. And deer shit, of course... We keep goin' this way."
no subject
Louis watches Kieren's hands with interest. "Damn crazy..." he mutters to himself, but loud enough for Kieren to hear. "Like that thing I saw about the bag milk... Ain't natural..." Kieren sounds English, so Louis summarily adds Capri-Suns to the list of England's crimes.
Louis imagines the creatures in shoddy pulp fiction and garish movies, the mindless nameless things little better than rabid dogs meant to be put down. The beautiful vampire stalking parlors, what Lestat taught him to be, is entirely different. Unnatural, preternatural, a wolf in sheep's clothing, a vampire for Lestat's modern age and the more sensual of gothic fictions. Which begs the question, what does the vampire of Louis's modern age look like?
"A vampire who brings the town down on him with torches and pitchforks has slipped. No one ever writes about some guy settin' traps in his home so he can bite the rats later like your little Capri suns."
Louis has slipped in Milton. He bit people in hunger. He outed himself to others when he was in need. Part of it is his loneliness and part of it his appetite for self destruction.
"Here we go, deer tracks. And deer shit, of course... We keep goin' this way."