Lestat snorted with laughter, straightening the lace on his sleeves once more. "You've always had that problem, John," he announced, turning dramatically once more, holding his arms out away from his body in a gesture that suggested impatience and obviousness. "You don't plan things out," Lestat hissed, dropping his arms and stalking up to John's face again. "You are just angry that this boy, and that's quite an understatement of a word you know... that this boy is more intruiging to her than you are! I don't blame her," he added, stepping back again and laughing his signature laugh. "You're not around, you're probably not as charming, and let's face it: where's the fun in her liking a vampire like herself?" He sighed, stepping around the tree that the dead woman slumped against, casually smacking her torn wrists out of his pathway with the heel of his boot. "Think of something more than just 'killing him, of course!' You'll never get her back because you're underestimating him with your anger and lack of a good... partner."
Lestat laughed, the harsh, bittersweet, attractive sound reverberating off the trees, and, likely, into the city not far off. He shook his hair once more, his grin now as wide as possible. "I do apologize," he started through his laughted, putting a hand to his heart. "My God, though!" He spun in a circle, the tails of his black, flower-trimmed coat catching up with the rest of him as he faced John. "That is just... perfect! Perfect!" He swallowed the rest of his laughter, managing to just smirk. A moment later, he paused, and took a step toward John, lowering his voice to a soft, yet rattling, precise tone of danger: "What do you plan to do to the boy?"
Lestat grinned, his teeth stained a pleasant shade of pink. "Nowadays I don't have too much to travel for or... live, as it were, for. I have only explored Rome in its heyday, and knew that it inspired Paris, which inspired New Orleans, the birthplace of the most exciting part of my life, but..." He sighed, shaking a spot of blood and dirt off the tip of his boot. "My appetite has never stopped at one per night... I'd ask you if you're hunting later, but I already know the answer. And I'm not much of a sharer," he added under his breath, his sharp grin still in place.
"Hmm," Lestat murmured, running a perfectly manicured hand through his sweeping hair. "Interesting..." He faded off, looking up into the sky. "The sun should set in an hour at the most," he began again, pulling a shining, silver pocketwatch out of his vest. "Since Merciful Death does not dwell in Rome, that will be the time we can visit your pet then. Although..." he added, thinking once more, "if she has companions and they've already spilled blood, I'd think you can go alone. I will wait till they've traveled to their destination."
Lestat chuckled, turning to see the other man. "I would have shared if you didn't just sulk in the shadows the whole time," he spoke, unable to stop himself from flicking his tongue slowly across his long canines oncemore. "I've had better, though."
Lestat walked alone in the forest, his shined boots barely touching the ground that was covered in mud. His black eyes glittered in the late afternoon sun. He straightened his silver vest, ruffled shirt, and laced sleeves, throwing back his mane of curling, blonde hair in the slight breeze. What a lovely evening, he thought to himself, grinning to the trees. "I'm not sorry, dear," he muttered aloud suddenly, his silky, seductive voice light enough to play with the breeze down to the body on the floor by his feet. "You shouldn't wander out on walks alone away from the city this late in the afternoon. Pity..." The body of the girl was slumped back against a tree, one sleeve of her dress torn down, visible, swollen bite marks on her shoulder, wrist, and neck. Her red hair was strewn across her face, her white dress dirty and ruined by the mud in the forest. Lestat sighed, smiling to himself, recalling the sweet taste of her blood, and licked his lips, the shadow of the flabor still there. Now, he sighed in his mind, turning to start a delicate, gentlemanly stroll toward the city. What shall I do with the upcoming night? The trees leave me a decent cover till the blasted sun goes down... then the fun begins.
YOU ALL KNOW WHO THIS IS, BUT FOR THE SAKE OF FORMAL INTRODUCTIONS, I SHALL FILL OUT THE REQUIREMENTS. 1. Real Name: Lestat de Lioncourt 2. Age: Unknown (Over 200) 3. Appearance: ^ ^ ^ NEED I SAY MORE? :D 4. Class: Vampire 5.Powers / Abilties: Read minds, immortal, strength, charm (seducing spells), friends with Brad Pitt! (JK) 6. History: Lestat does not have much known about him. He was turned in Paris by a French vampire, and later traveled to New Orleans. He has known many others of his kind, and is well known for his brutal sadistic forms of seducing, leading, and then killing his victims. He does have a lonely, handsome heart under all of his gory ways of life. As many say: "Lestat: loved by everyone!"
