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OOM - New Orleans
Oct. 11th, 2014 09:00 pmThe car is comfortable, the chauffeur's driving smooth. The car stereo is playing an aria.
"Tell me, Eric - May I call you Eric?" the King asks.
"Certainly," Eric replies.
They are getting somewhere.
"What exactly is your relationship with Miss Stackhouse?" Edgington asks and Eric says, "Well, her lover, Bill Compton, is, um, was a constituent of mine." That seems like a innocent enough answer.
"I'd keep an eye on that because I knew she was of interest to my queen."
"So no personal attachments?" Edgington asks with a small, wry smile.
"I do not get attached to humans," Eric replies. Dismissively.
"Still, you have to admit, she is quite delectable." Edgington counters, looking almost a little hungry.
And Eric takes the chance and leans in to say, "My tastes lie elsewhere," giving the King a meaningful look.
Then he leans back, as Edgington. Chuckles a little. Joining in.
"Lorena thinks you killed one of my werewolves," the King continues.
"I killed a werewolf," Eric replies, aiming for casually unconcerned.
"I was not aware it belonged to you."
"To save Sookie?" the King asks, curiously.
"To save myself," Eric says.
"Only a very young and very foolish vampire could be killed by a werewolf. You are neither." The King does not sound convinced.
"Only a vampire with no self-respect would allow a werewolf who attacked him to remain alive. They are base, primitive creatures, and I will freely admit that I despise them. You're the first vampire I met who didn't feel the same way."
He cannot pretend to have no problem with weres. So he doesn't. Edgington would never buy that.
"Of course I do," the King scoffs. "They're more dog than man. Stupider than dogs, actually. But it seems beneficial to me to use them rather than destroy them."
"How exactly do you use them?" Eric asks. As if he doesn't already know the answer. The answer Russell then gives him with no hesitation. "I give them the blood," he says and then he scoffs again, this time at the look on Eric's face. "Oh, come, now. I know that you yourself have been dealing, so don't pretend to be a vampire fundamentalist."
He's moving onto one of his favorite topics. You can tell by the way the words seem to tear their way out of him.
"If all the supernaturals would stop squabbling among themselves and unite, we could conquer humans in a matter of days."
"This is your plan?" Eric asks.
Of course it is. Egomaniacal little fucker.
"I prefer to call it my dream," Russell replies and Eric nods. "Well, I like this dream."
"Throughout history," Russell continues, clearly delighted with the sound of his own voice. "I have aligned myself with or destroyed those humans in power, hoping to make a dent in mankind's race to oblivion.What other creature actively destroys its own habitat?"
"Hey, you're preaching to the choir," Eric says, partly just to make him shut up. Keeping up this charade is really taking its toll.
"I mean, do you remember how the air used to smell? How humans used to smell? How they used to taste?" the King asks, and Eric replies, "I remember everything." Intense, but for so many other reasons than Russell might think.
"Preening little fool that he was, Adolf was right about one thing. There is a master race. It's just not the human race." Russell says, laughing a little. And Eric joins in. Until he sees the exit rush past.
"Shouldn't we have taken the I-12 exit?" he says, turning a little, and Edgington replies, breezily, "Oh, we're not going to Shreveport," adding, "Don't worry. We'll deal with your Magister problem in time," when he sees the look on Eric's face.
The rest of the trip is uneventful and Eric spends the most if his mental energy keeping up his unobtrusive attentiveness. And clamp down on his rage.
They arrive at the Queen's home and Russell asks Eric if he'd be willing to deal with the guards.
Oh, is he ever.
"Tell me, Eric - May I call you Eric?" the King asks.
"Certainly," Eric replies.
They are getting somewhere.
"What exactly is your relationship with Miss Stackhouse?" Edgington asks and Eric says, "Well, her lover, Bill Compton, is, um, was a constituent of mine." That seems like a innocent enough answer.
"I'd keep an eye on that because I knew she was of interest to my queen."
"So no personal attachments?" Edgington asks with a small, wry smile.
"I do not get attached to humans," Eric replies. Dismissively.
"Still, you have to admit, she is quite delectable." Edgington counters, looking almost a little hungry.
And Eric takes the chance and leans in to say, "My tastes lie elsewhere," giving the King a meaningful look.
Then he leans back, as Edgington. Chuckles a little. Joining in.
"Lorena thinks you killed one of my werewolves," the King continues.
"I killed a werewolf," Eric replies, aiming for casually unconcerned.
"I was not aware it belonged to you."
"To save Sookie?" the King asks, curiously.
"To save myself," Eric says.
"Only a very young and very foolish vampire could be killed by a werewolf. You are neither." The King does not sound convinced.
"Only a vampire with no self-respect would allow a werewolf who attacked him to remain alive. They are base, primitive creatures, and I will freely admit that I despise them. You're the first vampire I met who didn't feel the same way."
He cannot pretend to have no problem with weres. So he doesn't. Edgington would never buy that.
"Of course I do," the King scoffs. "They're more dog than man. Stupider than dogs, actually. But it seems beneficial to me to use them rather than destroy them."
"How exactly do you use them?" Eric asks. As if he doesn't already know the answer. The answer Russell then gives him with no hesitation. "I give them the blood," he says and then he scoffs again, this time at the look on Eric's face. "Oh, come, now. I know that you yourself have been dealing, so don't pretend to be a vampire fundamentalist."
He's moving onto one of his favorite topics. You can tell by the way the words seem to tear their way out of him.
"If all the supernaturals would stop squabbling among themselves and unite, we could conquer humans in a matter of days."
"This is your plan?" Eric asks.
Of course it is. Egomaniacal little fucker.
"I prefer to call it my dream," Russell replies and Eric nods. "Well, I like this dream."
"Throughout history," Russell continues, clearly delighted with the sound of his own voice. "I have aligned myself with or destroyed those humans in power, hoping to make a dent in mankind's race to oblivion.What other creature actively destroys its own habitat?"
"Hey, you're preaching to the choir," Eric says, partly just to make him shut up. Keeping up this charade is really taking its toll.
"I mean, do you remember how the air used to smell? How humans used to smell? How they used to taste?" the King asks, and Eric replies, "I remember everything." Intense, but for so many other reasons than Russell might think.
"Preening little fool that he was, Adolf was right about one thing. There is a master race. It's just not the human race." Russell says, laughing a little. And Eric joins in. Until he sees the exit rush past.
"Shouldn't we have taken the I-12 exit?" he says, turning a little, and Edgington replies, breezily, "Oh, we're not going to Shreveport," adding, "Don't worry. We'll deal with your Magister problem in time," when he sees the look on Eric's face.
The rest of the trip is uneventful and Eric spends the most if his mental energy keeping up his unobtrusive attentiveness. And clamp down on his rage.
They arrive at the Queen's home and Russell asks Eric if he'd be willing to deal with the guards.
Oh, is he ever.
