citynet | Backdated to late Nov. 28 | text; un: Constantine

[ Notification buzz. She swears, reaches for her phone, sees the username, groans, throws her phone to the foot of the bed. ]

Hello. Hello. Hello. You will get sick of this long before I do. Hello. Hello.

[ And so it continues. ]

[ Finally: ]

I will stake you through the heart, Lestat.

Un baiser dangereux, chérie. Don't make promises you won't keep.

[ Sounding way too pleased. ]

So, what is it we're hiding away from today, hm?

[ Groan. ]

I overdid it last night with a werewolf.

[ The audible sound of something like a hiss, or at the very least an intake of breath. ]

... Do you need anything? A - what did you call it - a booze run?

If I drink anything I probably will die. 'M fine. Ruined my coat.

[ Honestly she's kind of fucked up about the coat but she's too tired to really deal with it yet. ]

Happy?

Are you hurt?

[ It seems everyone who got involved with what happened got hurt, in some way. Lestat is assuming the trend doesn't stop here. ]

Christ.

[ She sounds petulant, and tired, and probably hungry, a kid who needs a snack and a nap and is instead being told they have to walk just a bit further. That said, when she flips on her camera to glower, her face is a touch more drawn than usual -- but her hair is clean, and she sits up in bed without any apparent trouble. ]

I'm fine. [ She scrubs a hand over her face. ] I had to do some bloody brutal magic to keep someone else's guts in. That's all.

[ Lestat turns his camera on too, as if being polite, when really he just needs to make it clear how serious he is about this now, despite his earlier jokes. His expression is stern, his full lips drawn together. He almost looks worried. ]

Physically, at least. I'm glad to see it. Some weren't so lucky, as I know you're aware.

[ That's why he's so worried, Jo, because he's clearly seen the horrors of the night before first hand. He doesn't exactly consider her the type to be upfront when she's in pain, after all. And speaking of hands, there's a bandage visible around his where it lays plainly against his lap.

Magic, though, huh? That's food for thought. ]

Now, I have things to be doing. [ In other words, he'll take the chivalrous route and stop bothering her if all she genuinely needs is rest. ] But if you need anything other than sleep, let me know.

[ All these people correctly identifying that she might conceal don't feel if she was injured, based solely on her past words and actions. Rude, honestly. She didn't ask any of you to perceive her. ]

--hang about, are you all right?

[ Lestat deeply considers giving in to his own instinct to change the subject or pretend he didn't hear her and shut off the camera — she'd get a taste of her own medicine and probably be too exhausted to redial him — but something makes him pause, studying her closely. She'd shared her truth (kind of) to reassure him, hadn't she? ]

Louis was targeted last night, too. He's alright, he's recovering.

[ His mouth twists; choosing his words carefully is apparently taking considerable effort. ]

I'm frustrated with myself. I took Louis home and I did not think for even a moment about what happened to the creature, even though I left it in quite the state once I was finished. I saw an opportunity to get Louis to safety and I took it.

[ Guilt is so uncommon on his face that he almost looks recognisable experiencing it, though the anger simmering beneath it is familiar. ]

I don't know how many it hurt after I left.

Louis--

[ Jesus Christ. She scrubs a hand over her face, taking a deep breath. It's fine, it's fine, Lestat said he's recovering and there's nothing to be done about it at this point anyways. ]

Fuck me, Lestat. I'm glad you got him out of it. What a bloody mess. How did he let this -- fuck, what a mess.

[ Lestat is touched by her caring for Louis, but not enough for it to show. Louis is easy to care about, much easier than he is, it makes sense. ]

A mess is right. A ridiculous-- [ Lost for words for a moment, then it bursts from him. ] Fucking mess.

[ His lightly bandaged hand goes to his temple, glass fingernails pressing in as though he has a mortal headache. Really, he's just sick of thinking in circles. ]

Something has to be done before the next time. I almost killed him.

[ What he isn't saying sits loudly between them. That he could have. That he would have. ]

[ Hearing him swear is startling -- she suddenly realizes she doesn't think she's heard Lestat use any really strong language. ]

Yeah, well. I don't think any of us want that for you.

[ That's her read on Chandler, anyway. He doesn't seem like the sort of man who'd wish the burden of murder on anyone, even if that burden might be comparatively light on someone like Lestat.

Of course, she also thought he was the sort of man who'd make sure his destruction was focused on himself, and look how that turned out. ]

There'll be something we can do. Unless this is something else the City is pulling on us.

[ Out of everyone they collectively know, it would be easiest to assume that Lestat would have the least problem with killing the beast that brought harm to so many of the ones he considers dear to him. Such an assumption probably would have been right, and was very right, until he realized who the beast was, whose body it was beneath the fur and the teeth, who's face would bear the gifts of his anger in the following days to come.

It's surprising, then, that she seems to understand his reluctance. ]

Werewolves are nothing but stories where I come from. Believe me, I would know if they were real. So I don't know the first thing about them, other than their strange weakness to... Silver, isn't it?

[ His brow tenses. ]

That is, of course, if he even follows the stereotypes. I certainly don't, there's nothing to say he will.

[ He's aware it would be much easier to just... talk to Ethan about this all up front, but he's understandably having some considerable difficulty in talking to him with any kind of fairness right now. ]

Yeah, traditionally. Don't know exactly what that means, though, I doubt I could just throw a bangle at it and get it out of my face.

[ She grimaces. ]

You know how to ... smelt? Is it smelting? Melting down metal and all?

[ Lestat lets a short breath of air escape his lungs at that - as close to a laugh as he’ll get in these circumstances. The idea of her throwing jewellery at such a beast is a little funny. Maybe they could team up and give it a real headache, maybe even catch it right in the eye.

But when she mentions smelting, a thought strikes him. ]

I know of a man who’s very talented when it comes to making something out of nothing. He’s been working on a particular project at the moment, but I believe if there’s anywhere we could start - even for advice - he might be the person for it. His name is Kaveh.

[ Johanna might remember him from that one time Lestat was napping on his livestream all day. ]

[ A slow nod. ] I think I've seen him around. Not much use in getting silver bullets without a gun to put them in, but maybe edging a knife with it or something ...

[ Also if you handed her a gun, personally, she would have no idea what to do with it. What does she look like, an American? Please. ]

We'd only need bullets were he to rampage again. I don't intend to have it get that far. Not for a second time.

[ Lestat firms his folded arms, shifting. Not for the first time in Johanna's company, he looks fidgety and uncomfortable. Though the reason this time is far less fun than the prior one. ]

I was thinking more of something to keep him contained. [ He looks distasteful when he says it, and sighs before continuing. ] Like a cage.

Oh, yeah, absolutely.

[ Jo doesn't seem perturbed, at least. ]

Chains, if we could find 'em. Huh, wonder if the bank vault actually locks.

[ Lestat raises his eyebrows in muted surprise. He shouldn’t be, given everything he knows about Johanna, but evidently there’s much he doesn’t know and is only now being permitted to glimpse it. It makes him curious. It makes him hungry. He swallows, focusing back on the task at hand. ]

I haven’t been to the bank, but I heard it was involved in traumatizing some citizens. I don’t know how much trust I put in something that can be manipulated by our unseen masters.

[ A pause. ]

But we could make it our own, I’m sure. Use it for parts, or change its design.

[ Another pause, this one a little more tense. ]

I would feel strange taking measures like this without speaking to the man in question, though.

[ A vampire who cares about consent, what a strange thing to exist. ]

[ Wry: ] How much trust do you have that anything here can't be manipulated?

[ As to the last, she sighs, more in tiredness than anything, and nods. ] Anyway, yeah, Chandler will have to sign off. Ideally. Don't think he'd say no to an ounce of prevention, though. And if he does ...

[ She shrugs. If he does, too bad. ]

[ Lestat nods, looking... well, looking still as uneasy as he had before, but perhaps a little more grounded now that he has a plan, or at least knows that there are people looking to formulate one out there. ]

If anything is to be done about it, if anyone starts to organize anything, I'd like to be involved.

[ Johanna is usually aware of most things going on if she's not directly involved, so Lestat figures that throwing his hat to her will at least keep him in the loop by connection. ]

I can speak with Kaveh about producing some strong restraints of silver. In the meantime, [ He looks aside, as if checking on something, before looking back to her. ] we should all get some rest. Goodnight, Johanna.

Mm. Yeah.

G'night, Lestat. Guess I'll stake you some other time.

[ How annoying. She actually feels a little better after talking to him. Prick. ]

Backdated to late Nov. 28 | text; un: Constantine

seen 9:47PM

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