medicalling | Open Post

I adore you. More and more of late, if that is possible. :]

I love you in this realm and all the rest. Love makes anything possible.

Even babysitting?

You seem to be inclined to throw your children at me. Fortunately, they're temporary occasions.

Now, I have not turned him yet. Perhaps then he will be my child, carry my blood.

A shame. I would make a particularly fetching housewife, no?

But the events of his life has both aged him and frozen him in suspended motion. He is slowly learning how to operate as if he is not dying tomorrow.

You and I can both attest to how helpless one can feel upon being kidnapped and bound. He is lucky to still draw breath, but the scar tissue runs deep.

[That would account for some of the stress reads in his body. Rowan sighed.]

He may be a child, but you're not his keeper. It's hard to see that age and not think infant. He needs to rest more than he is. I'm glad you have someone with you that makes you happy.

You forget what it is to be a young thing, cher. Still enchanted by the world and all of its mysteries.

I will try to coax him to sleep before sunrise, at least. I do not wish for his health to deteriorate. Would it be an inconvenience to bring him to see you once more?

I am sure that I can find a way to express my gratitude.

I don't need to be thanked to do my job, Lestat. But I will always be happy to see you. If you're sending him alone on his own, I don't want to keep him long for what needs to be done. I like knowing you have someone with you.

That's my way of saying that any time you or he feels he needs to see me for something, my door is open.

Ah, I always have a need that you can fill. Quite urgently, I might add.

Best not leave it to simmer too long, else I may wind up back in your emergency department.

[Why did that send a thrill through him at the idea of being stalked and found and taken? Oh, right. Because he loved a predator.]

Tu me menaces d'un bon moment, mon amour?

Vilain homme.

You are fortunate that your magic can suppress sound. I would not hold back on my attempts to make you sing prettily for me, for the entire hospital to hear. Perhaps a little light show, too?

I don't know which you want to show off more. That you can make me shine, or that you're a fantastic lover.

A bit of both. I do enjoy making you squirm in conflicted pleasure, love.

I'm going to put you in the middle of a room full of mirrors and make you touch yourself. Then I can see you from all angles.

[Including that ass.]

Maybe I'll slip a toy in you first.

My, what did I do to deserve that? Are you attempting to deflect from my desire to render you breathless beneath me?

Keep that up, and I may have to bring out the collar restraints once more.

All this is a distraction by you from me thinking about your chew toy. Naughty vampire.

Did he tell you about the wolf?

Naughty chew toy. He is quite pleased with you, it seems. As am I.

Non. What wolf is this?

I have absolutely no idea why.

In his dream. He says they've changed. Now he dreams of woods that are ancient. I think my magic recognized something of you in him and did something unexpected. He sees a direwolf, Lestat. Large, grey, with blue eyes. The lad says it seems like it wants him to follow it.

[Lestat couldn't know the significance, and he knew he wouldn't like hearing it.]

My father's creature is a direwolf. I worry that this is his attempt to reach out to you, and it caught him instead. But I don't know the why of it.

[ a little delay before the next message. lestat frowns to himself and thinks it over, ignoring the claw of anxiety in his gut. if inadvertently he had exposed adam to larger threats than vampire kind alone through rowan, well. he did not want to consider the repercussions of tangling with an ancient creature far stronger than anything lestat could conceive.

still, wolves were - complicated. lestat himself was oft both compared to them and assigned a slayer of them - by his ancient maker, too. sought out for the feat of killing a pack of eight on his lonesome as a young man, far before the blessings of the dark gift. what adam's dream could mean was elusive to him, if not very troubling. ]

If that is truly the case, then - what do you suggest? Do we withhold from letting more of your magic touch him?

It will be an effort, but it can be done. I will simply have to keep us both in line to prevent any more incidents.

The cat, or wolf, is out of the bag, I think. Whatever tie is there is already there. I don't know what the wolf heralds. Truthfully-

[He thought about it, knowing that it was better to tell Lestat his worries and musings than to let the vampire mull on it all by himself.]

I'm concerned in two ways. One, that it's my father's attempt to lure you or myself back to him. Two, that I'm more my father's son than either of us considered. None of father's wolves would be considered calm or peaceful, and that is what Adam felt from this one.

[ well. that was a possibility that he had not considered. ]

Surely your father is wise enough to know that we would not simply march to his doorstep from the sight of such an obvious symbol. It would be far too obvious a trap, and too vague to be a summons.

Shall I call you mon loup also, then? How about loulou? How apt that you hold my blood in a wolf fang around your throat, if you are truly your father's son.

The lack of fear you speak of is a reprieve at least. Lessens the urgency somewhat.

I'm afraid.

[He'd typed that admission without fully thinking it through, then realized leaving it like that was a terrible idea. Watch the three dots, Lestat. More was coming.]

I'm afraid I've more Winter in me than expected. That suddenly, I'm going to become interesting to him for more than the reason I started hiding. That he'll find a use for me. WANT to find a use for me.

[The next admission was one he felt Lestat would understand most.]

I'm also afraid my mother will see too much of him in me and regret having me more than she already does. I'm afraid of what this means for me, myself. I know my abilities. I thought I knew them. Now, I don't know anymore.

[ that stops lestat in his musings, a spike of concern through their connection. he waits for the messages to come, lighting a cigarette as he does so. stares up at the sky from his back, laying atop the tour bus trailer and waits for the buzz of his phone to indicate more messages received.

what he reads gives him more pause. the read receipt and the trickle of sadness through to the fae man is enough to let rowan know he's been seen and acknowledged, lestat thinks. he needs another moment to gather his thoughts. ]

If he takes you once more, I promise you that I will make him regret it. You are mine before you are his, Rowan. Mine to keep and mine to love.

You hold both seasons within you, yet you are surprised when they bend and merge with time? Your frost with your fury, warmth with your joy. A poetic expression of self, internality becoming external, twisting the world.

Let your mother see what she must, unkind thing that it may be. I too, hold my wretched father's temper within me. It is our burdens to bear as children, but is no fault of ours.

I am sorry, mon amour. Truly I hope that your worst fears do not come to pass, for both of our sakes.

[It was the drifting emotions that trickled through to him that made him smile. So sincere, his vampire. So certain of himself. It was what drew people to him, like moths to a flame. And like the comparison, most burned up from the joy of it.

Perhaps his mother had known something he hadn't. There had to be a reason a Lady of the Summer Court would agree to any contract with a Winter Prince. Maybe she had some foretelling of the blending of opposites. Of what he might be. Maybe one day, he'd ask her, if he ever got the courage to.

He sent back affection, a push of love and that summer warmth before he replied.]

You are too forgiving of my flaws. I am too old to be finding new things about myself. But if I'm to go through it, I'm glad that whatever the result, I had you in my life.

[ a flicker of rage surfaces over the sorrow, the sympathy. that spark of possessiveness lancing through him. such finality in rowan's words had his fingers flying over the keys, tongue curled up behind his teeth. ]

And I will have you in death, too. Do not think that I will allow him to snatch you from my claws.

If he steals your life, then your corpse is mine to enshrine.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

hovertext

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject