The Artist Lestat

[devilish_prince]

It seems the last few weeks, Lestat has been painting and drawing up a storm, and there is no more room in the tower for his artwork. Now along the main hall, dozens of canvasses of every size and shape have been set along the walls for the residents' perusal. Many of the images are from his own memories and stories, but passers-by may be

Comments

[mad_leprechaun]

Sweeney ambles along, peering at the paintings with some interest.

"Well now, Lestat. I should have figured you'd turn out to be a fucken Renaissance man." He grins at him.

[devilish_prince]

"Sweeney!" he exclaims, a grin on his face, ushering him over. "It's been quite some time since I've seen you. Heard you've been busy." Lestat winks mischievously.

"Take a look around, if you see anything you like, feel free to grab it."

[mad_leprechaun]

"Yeah, well, y'know how it is." He shrugs, his grin going a bit roguish. "Been hearing a bit about you as well, come to that."

He turns back to the paintings for a moment, leaning in to look at one more closely. "Fuck me, is that Glen Bolcain?"

[devilish_prince]

"Been hearing about me, have you? Only good things, I hope?" he chuckles, taking the moment to do a quick sketch of Sweeney.

He turns his attention to the painting he's referring to and furrows his brow for a moment. "Glen who? I don't know, it could be. I made that one only a few nights ago. Don't know where the inspiration came from, but there you have it. You know him?"

[englishgent]

David is in a rather pleasant mood today and upon seeing Lestat's display he smiles and walks over to him. With a playfull smile on his face he speaks.

"Lestat is it?" *winks*

"It says here you take commisions?"

[devilish_prince]

Lestat grins and nods. "Mais oui, Lestat de Lioncourt, artist extraordinaire at your service. And yes, I do take commissions. But portraits only. Nude portraits," he wiggles his eyebrows flirtatiously and laughs.

[englishgent]

Very pleased to make your aquaintance Mr. Lioncourt. Nude portraits you say? Hmm I'm not sure. *smirks*

[devilish_prince]

"Rest assured, monsieur, I am a keeper of the utmost discretion. You are safe in my hands," he purrs, leaving his sketchbook on the chair. Approaching him slowly, he wraps his arms around him and grins. "Hello there."

[botticelliangel]

Armand drifts along the hallway with that odd way of moving he has when he'd rather not be noticed, from corner to shadow to the shield of someone else's body, examining Lestat's work with an odd, tight expression.

He makes his way to Lestat eventually, large sober eyes still flitting from one painting to the next. "Could the artist recommend me something I might like?"

[devilish_prince]

Lestat sees Armand approach and watches him curiously for a few moments, before finally nodding politely and smiling. "Oui, perhaps I have something you might like..."

He wanders over to the far end of the hall, flipping through canvasses, until he finally pulls a large one out. On it is a nighttime scene of Paris, very clearly set in a time hundreds of years ago. The painting itself is eerily realistic, almost too sharp and too vibrant to be made by an ordinary painter.

"Ici... what do you think of this one?"

[botticelliangel]

"It's beautiful." There's something wistful about the way he looks at it, slowly deepening into sadness.

"What is the asking price?"

[devilish_prince]

"It's yours," he says simply, understanding the sadness in his eyes. "Consider it a gift between old... old friends."

[theblondgypsy]

Bored, Gringoire decides to look at the gallery. "Now, these are nice. We could always use someone in the visual arts around here."

[devilish_prince]

Lestat looks up from his drawing and smiles politely. "Bonsoir, monsieur, I don't believe we've met before. See anything that catches your eye?"

[theblondgypsy]

"I don't think so either, monsieur. I'm Pierre Gringoire. Do you have any paintings of Paris?"

[devilish_prince]

He nods amiably and places his sketchbook on the chair, standing up to peruse the several stacks of canvasses. "Monsieur Gringoire, a pleasure. I am Lestat de Lioncourt," he bows briefly. "Mais oui, I have many of Paris. Around what year were you wanting it? The earliest landscapes I have are from the late 18th century, all the way to modern day. I'm rather in love with it," he winks, pulling out a handful of paintings out.

[sweariwontdie]

The Mansion's other Armand, slight, dark-haired and utterly fascinated with art and the people who can create it... "Oh my," he whispers from a respectful distance. It never pays to get close enough to annoy the vampires, after all. "These are lovely."

[devilish_prince]

Lestat smiles and nods graciously in his direction, motioning for him to take a better look. "Merci, Monsieur... St. Juste, is it? Yes, I remember you. Please, feel free to examine any at your leisure. If you something catches your eye, you're more than welcome to take it with you."

[sweariwontdie]

Armand nods. "Yes, that's my name." He does come closer but still seems to be in deep awe, almost afraid to touch the edges of the frames and/or canvases to move them around to look at them. "Your skill... I've not seen anything like this."

[devilish_prince]

"Thank you for the kind words monsieur, but I am only learning. I excel at mimicry, so I have yet to capture a style of my own. They did turn out rather as I'd intended though, so I'm satisfied. Do you prefer anything in particular; landscapes, cities, people...?"