whisperslow: (The dark laws must be obeyed.)
[Oh guess who just woke up. That's right. Armand. Everyone's favorite dick. He's pissed.]


[The vampire sits up in his bed and immediately looks around for the inmate in question. The last thing he remembers is tearing into the Commander's neck and then something being emptied into his veins. He snatched his journal up from where it sat at his bedside and did his best to somewhat lopsidedly stand up, trying to focus his vision on finding his killer. He doesn't even remember being this mad when he was killed by Lestat or Louis.]

whisperslow: (Lemme tell you how stupid you are.)
And I was said to prattle. I've not seen anything but in the past few hours. Did you all suddenly find something to suddenly talk about? Not that your threats are anything but the usual. And, seeing as we are all talking about mostly nothing, here, I have poetry for you. Per request, of course. Not quite as fluid as yours Louis, but then again I don't have a brat by my side either.

[He's singing "Out There" from Hunchback of Notre Dame. C:]

Safe behind these windows and these parapets of stone )

And Lestat, I don't think I've told you today yet, but I love you. So deeply and fiercely like an untamed stallion and I long only to be by your beautiful side.

(ooc: Mirror!Armand is even more trouncy and campy than usual and saved Lestat, dying in the sun instead of him. D'aw. Also, he's most likely made the offer to sing anything for anyone as well as allowed other vampires to feed from him.)


whisperslow: (Default)

February 2011

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