i take canon from the movie (just iwtv) and the books.
if i remember correctly, my personal canon cuts off around the end/after the end of merrick.
louis very clearly had depression as a human, bordering on the point of being suicidal, and the tragedy of his character was that lestat, in turning him, all of that mess within him intensified. it’s something he continuously struggles with- he does so much better when surrounded by others who are able to validate and communicate with him, but he has such deep running trust issues from his experiences he usually self-sabotages, so close relationships with him are…. interesting.
^^^ bridging off of this, louis has a terrible habit gaslighting others- specifically for refusing to acknowledge (most of the time) how his own actions played into a situation.
i do not? like louis’ making of merrick being romanticized. his making her was non-consensual, influenced by a love spell she’d put on him, which is also subsequently why he ends up putting himself into the sun the next morning.
i do have a crossover hc pertaining to thomas sharpe from crimson peak with a friend, where louis turns thomas- i’m happy to play with the idea of this in other threads. they end up estranged because louis can’t deal with the fact he turned thomas of his own volition.
in my generic modern day verse, louis returns to new orleans and purchases an old plantation plot near where he’d grown/lived/was turned as a human.
louis’ biggest weird tell to humans is that in 110 degree heat, he’ll oft be wearing out-of-place ‘warm’ outfits (louis no human would be wearing a sweater, undershirt and slacks in august louisiana heat.)
for such a popular
soiree ( opening night ) the place is
rather quiet, at present. most prefer to linger over a glass of wine and inane
conversation, peacocking about their expensively-cut clothes and even sharper
stones, amid laughter. ( the falsity of it glows in bright, golden hues at his
back, fracturing the night. Mycroft exhales against the dark skies and watches
his breath dance.
perhaps it’s the
whiplash of the wind. even the stars shiver in the distance. but most of them are
swallowed up by urban pollution ; all that remains is what is beneath them – a universe of monsters (
except that most people are neither monsters nor saints, but grains of sand
blown away by the wind or by someone else’s will. )
he misses the
countryside. at Christmas, perhaps… or for the first snowfall…
a voice cuts the thought short. the fact that the interruption is unwelcome slips between micro-expressions that vanish like watercolour in a full glass. Mycroft brings the
fag to his mouth, inhales slowly as he considers the stranger beneath lazy
eyelids and a look painted in a disinterest that runs contrary to his (
customary ) curiosity ( well, he never makes
a show of being interested in anything, not really ; most times, it is even true.
).
the stranger is handsome, yes, like a portrait stepped out
of its gilded frame and breathed into reality from a vision. but his presence
is like undiluted peppermint oil slipping down the throat. like a scalpel to
the throat. so sharp, so cool, it
burns ( it burns away the static in his mind, certainly, makes it recede to the
very corners of his mind until he’s once again –sleepless, boneless— in the
hour of the wolf. ) and he drags on and on and on, some invisible weight like
the perpetual curse of Sisyphus.
that interests him immediately. drags his attention from
the pointed inspection of the man’s body ( all the little tells in his clothes,
his skin, countenance and posture ) –––– lazily, if almost involuntarily, to the eyes. the barometer of another’s soul.
Mycroft
fixes him without blinking, his own gaze piercing, mind cool, heartbeat quite
as steady as it ever is.
does he? care ?
“ … I do care, ”
he concludes, tone as
mild as spring water, but opaque, offering no real indication of intent, but
inviting all interpretations. “ but
you may, if you so wish. ” he
produces a case, matte polished metal, clicks it open to offer him one of the Sherman classics within. “ I see it is not a common indulgence of yours. but, if you would like— ”
within the presence of others, louis was… brooding and muted, but embellished; pretty to look at but not to talk to. he was a work of art, remarked on by the highest (oldest) critics. lestat was constantly being either praised or criticized for his making. louis supposes it’s because, although picturesque, his manner remained far too human. beyond looks, his melancholy was merited- reaction to it was based on the eye of the beholder; was being ‘human’ a desirable trait? was his sadness beautiful? if yes, than it was a unusually lost trait that made louis desirable.
if not- then he was flawed. and louis finds himself wondering what he sees- the lonely man he’s speaking with now.
the dismissal, or what he first believes to be a dismissal, has him moving, curious but willing to slip away, to seek elsewhere. it’s a polite allowance given freely from a true predator; and he’s prepared to commit, but the observation (‘i see it is not a common indulgence of yours-,’) has him caught. louis does hope then, that the stranger notices his honest hesitance in turn. (i would have left you alone, had you wished it-) ❛ i don’t make a habit of interrupting. so, i’m sorry- if i’ve caught you unaware, ❜ but he does approach now, reascending the stone steps to thank him quietly, glossy claws reaching to take the offered cigarette.
what else would he notice?❛ i‘ll need a light, ❜ louis’ words are… gentle, playful, (with an ease that leaves him surprised, internally) and he finally offers a soft smile. he knows he’s telling the stranger something he already knows. it’s not a very human game, but it’s a familiar one. to louis, who does not know mycroft holmes, it’s a word-play based far more on ‘positioning’ rather than intelligence. he’s not used to navigating these waters with a human.
louis knows how he looks beneath the clouded night… he looks, as any vampire should look- like something dark, ethereal, and oddly paper-thin.
taken from tania de rozario’s 2013 collection of poetry and short prose . please consider buying the book and supporting the poet . it can be found here .
“ surely you are not so naive.” “ this is what you are.” “ they might just change the world.” “ you are responsible for your actions.” “ she wants to shrink me down to a manageable size.” “ i will not be small , will not be pretty.” “ i refuse to partake in these sorrows that are not mine.” “ i wanted to give her something i could not take back.” “ always i give, always, i am emptied. always, i am left behind.” “ i saw it happen. in fact i anticipated it.” “ where thou diest will i die, and there will i be buried.” “ is this why it is hard to love me?” “ is this us , objects that were once home, good only as firewood for what used to be love?” “ we’re a car crash, high- impact, drunk-driven to pieces of poetry and desire.” “ i like how you look over coffee and toast, reading the papers and laughing at headlines” “ power is a curious thing.” “ what don’t you remember?” “ here you are here you are here you are .” “ i like you very much . i hope you know that. i still do like you very much . “ “ put your hands on me , Love. i too am scarred.” “ it hurt me too, to watch .” “ i will not watch my life go on without you. “ “ perhaps i should leave something behind.” “ Don’t forget me, once winter comes and goes.” “ we will lay together again, laughing, warm, under the sun.” “ you cry because you know the point at which you could have turned back but didn’t. “ “ you remember the dialogue you had with yourself.” “ i keep everything.” “ i need you, i’ve said it.” “ i don’t have that kind of strength.”
@fortunebuoyed asked,
headcanon + daniel
SEND IN HEADCANON + A WORD / PHRASE FOR A RELEVANT HEADCANON ABOUT MY MUSE.
speaking mostly about the time between interview with the vampire (daniel interviewing louis) to queen of the damned when armand has finally turned daniel- personally, i believe that louis’ opinion of daniel/relationship with daniel says a lot more about himself than it does of daniel. louis can’t fathom why anyone would want to be a vampire for a prolonged period of time. when he begins to think he understands, something always happens to make him double-back on his journey to accept who/what he is. so, any bitterness between them at first exists purely because of louis’ own ‘crippled facilities’.
daniel, i’d say, was also a pretty foolhardy human. it takes a lot of gumption to listen to an immortal creature bellyache for literally hours and then immediately say something that proves you missed the whole point. louis had been… definitely hoping to garner some form of validation out of the act of being interviewed but, daniel’s reaction completely ruins it for him. but then, i’ve never been sure if the validation he was hoping to receive through the act was from daniel, or if it was much more… just part of a bigger plot in his head to try and push lestat to see things fully his way; there are a lot of bigger decisions that louis and lestat make during the 70′s/80′s that can also be coded as power play moves against one another because they’re both assholes. louis’ entire interview is meant to be very clearly damning of lestat- but it’s also louis’ own way of ‘reaching out’, it’s- a lot of things tbh. it was a very layered decision, because one has to keep in mind that louis is someone who’s always secluded himself.
when he finds out armand turned daniel, he’s more irritated than anything. but i’m also 120% sure he still blames himself to some capacity for daniel being a vampire.
