[VC "My Fair Lady" adaptation]
Rating: PG: 13...could get slashy. Only time will tell.
Genre: Romance-Comedy-Drama [in later parts]
Characters: Mainly Lestat, Louis and Armand. Set in the 1700s when Louis was made into a vampire.
Author's Note: I've been messing with this idea for a while and I finally decided to post it. I don't know whether to continue so critique away--I encourage you! It's my first posted spec so have mercy:)
Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't profit, don't worry, Ms.Rice. I'm just borrowing them. You'll hardly notice.
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When Monsieur Lioncourt spotted the lithesome form standing a few simple paces from him one balmy, summer night, he had a feeling that his stay in New Orleans would be difficult---if not interesting. Call it intuition, or a simple queer feeling of de ja vu, but he simply knew.
“Armand! You rogue! You, rapscallion you, when I left you in France I left you for good! No use coming to Louisiana to suck up to me now!” Lioncourt shouted with his usual easy demeanor.
The form of a slight young man, no older than 18, pivoted smoothly to face the origin of the gleeful, yet obnoxious, voice. His face visibly paled but his smile was brilliant.
“Me! Suck up to you? I would think the exact opposite you stalker...couldn’t handle having so many miles between us, could you?”
“Oh is that so? Well we are mighty presumptuous for someone who was begging me to stay with him just a few short weeks ago”
“Simply for the monetary gain, I assure you.” Armand replied coolly.
“Oh that’s what you say but not what you mean, I know you too well Armand. You missed me and now you are back! I can not say that I am disappointed I genuinely---“
“Enjoy my company?”
“Ha! More like enjoy your looks if nothing else! Don’t get too pompous little one...”
“Little one! I’m older than you, and I may look eighteen but for all of your years, mortal and otherwise, I’m still all the more wiser!”
“Wise indeed, why did leave your little house of harlots if you are so wise? I hear that it is doing quite well for a little caberet in Paris during the Revolution, when absolutely no one is in good spirits or on good terms with anyone. How ever will they do without you, they answer your every beck and call like puppies and you aren’t even that good of an actor.” Lioncourt jibbed as he offered his arm to his colleague, who begrudgingly accepted with a slap on his friend's navy brocade covered shoulder.
“Not that good of an actor! I act as if I like you, that is worthy of the highest merit in Europe! Besides my theatre is not a caberet and my actors are not whores.”
“Could've fooled me!" Armand spat a few choice words and stormed off ahead of his laughing companion. "Oh you know you love me Armand, resistance is futile.”
Armand stopped and turned to Monsieur Lioncourt, suddenly getting serious with his hands on his slight hips “Exactly why did you leave Paris? What is your purpose? I have a sneaking suspicion that you sir are up to something.”
“Well,” Lioncourt started with a somber look. “You would be right in assuming that, for I am going to teach!”
“Teach!” Armand snorted. “Teach what?”
“Why my strongest forte of course! Acting. My little sojourn with you and your troupe of impostors has taught me that just about anyone can be any part they choose and I shall teach whatever they desire to know. Yes my friend, my secrets shall go to the highest bidder and since your little house of horrors has become an institution, I shall use your theater as an example of my theatrical prowess. That simple!”
Armand had a thoughtful look on his youthful face, he knew there was some sort of flaw in his friend’s picture perfect plan and he intended to find it. His finger rested on his bottom lip as he thought of the perfect reason to rain on Lioncourt’s little parade.
“Well Lestat, your plan is rather---remarkable but I don’t think anyone in New Orleans is going to buy it. These don’t seem to be the type of people who are particularly interested in theatrics.”
“Ah but that is the beauty of my plan, see New Orleans is a new colony. No one knows much about each other, there is no drawn out, well known ancestral lineage here like there is in Europe. The wealthy are that way due to luck and influence and if you can play the part, you are all ready that much more powerful. If I can teach one pupil how to act like royalty, then they will become royalty and I shall profit.” He closed his mouth rather abruptly, as if he wanted to add to his little monologue, but he let the ending drift in the air and hang over the duo. Yes, he thought with a self-indulgent smile, I know exactly what I am doing. Pity I hadn’t thought of it sooner!
“Goodness Lestat, you’ve been thinking about this for quite sometime haven’t you?”
Yes mon ami, adore me and my brainchild. Adore me for the prodigy I am! Go on! You know you want to!
Lestat turned to Armand with a genuinely charming smile. “From the moment I met you my sweet, I just HAD to get away!”
“Ha ha ha. Well I admire you for your work ethic Lestat. Silly of me thinking that once gaining an incalculable wealth and a life everlasting, you wouldn’t lift a finger till doomsday. Silly of me indeed.”
“Well Armand, that just goes to show how much you truly know about me. Of course I am young, wealthy, and immortal.” Lestat turned around rather like a proud peacock, showing off his splendor and fully emphasizing his point. “But what good is that to me? I could be old, poor, and mortal and still keep myself content. Considerably less content mind you, but content nonetheless. I refuse to be wallowing around in dirt and dust, or velvet and greasepaint, or whatever the hell you’re currently wallowing in these days. I am going to live in the mortal world, not observe it, and I shall teach mortals to be ruthless scoundrels same as I.”
The glint in Armand’s eyes could not be more fiendish and Lestat began to wonder if letting Armand in on his little plan was the best notion.
“All right Lioncourt, it would be so easy for me just to stand here like some fawning acolyte and lavish you with my undivided attention---“
“Hell, it would be easy! And great fun too!”
“Ah yes it would---for you---but I’m willing to believe any and everything you say without any hesitation.”
“But...”
“But, I need proof.”
“Proof of what? What proof do you need, I’ve already wasted precious minutes of my life, minutes I shall never get back you realize, explaining the whole plan, is that not proof enough for you that I’m capable and willing to---‘’
“Lestat I don’t need proof that you’re willing to do it, God knows that you’re just waiting to mold the minds of unsuspecting mortals like some diabolical doctor of disaster. You would love to have someone groveling and sniveling to your every demand like a slave and lord knows Gabrielle won’t give you that sort of satisfaction.”
“Of course not, she’s my mother.”
“And you never let her forget that mistake do you?”
“Oh Armand, don’t be so sour...how your dreary life would be without me—“
“Oh! Please Lestat, don't say that. I dare not contemplate. It would only upset me, that I could never reach that level of contentment. That my life must forever be besmirched with your simple existence”
“I can end it if you wish!”
The pair stared coldly at each other for a few short moments. Armand’s eyes, for all of its lovely, gold-flecked appearances, were a cold, deep chocolate hue as he shoot daggers at his cobalt eyed opponent. However, Lestat’s eyes almost instantaneously lost their critical, harsh tone, returning to a heartier azure shade and to the original matter at hand.
“As for the bet, what are the terms?”
Armand paused for a second, tentetively relequishing the idea of strangling his taller opponent in the middle of Bourbon St. It simply wasn't painful enough, he finally decided.
“If you can turn any mortal in New Orleans that I choose into the picture of perfection, wit, and charm than I will...I will...hmm well I can’t imagine anything that I could give you that you don’t already own.” Armand quickly looked deeply into Lestat’s eyes and snapped sardonically as a faint blush crept onto his cheeks. “Besides what you’re thinking you sick, twisted pervert.”
“Oh Armand! I was just joking! This is all in good, clean fun. With the occasional window of opportunity for it to get considerably less clean.”
Armand’s eyebrow jumped up, he was not so amused.
“Come now, little one.” A sharp slap from Armand reminded him exactly who was going to be given cutesy monikers in this situation. “Ahem. Come now Monsieur.” Lestat offered him arm to Armand once more, who accepted without much protest. “I’m sure I’ll find some terms which we can both agree with. The night is young and New Orleans is full of potential pupils.”
“More like victims.”
“Don’t be so sassy, it doesn’t suit your looks. Come now, we have work to do.”
Author's Note: Thanks for the response from the first part! I'm sincerely sorry that it took me so long to post again. This is a pretty cute part of the story. Armand/Lestat fluff here-you've been warned! If there's any mistakes, I apologize, it hasn't been beta-read.
Disclaimer: No profit, no worries. Characters aren't mine. Please don't hurt me, Ms Rice! I suppose I own the Crimson Lady.
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Part Two
Well it seemed as if the duo were off to a good start as they perused the crowded, bustling streets of New Orleans for Lestat's grand, new experiment. Lestat couldn't help but feel a wave of giddiness as he strolled down the French Quarter with Armand on his arm. Who knew what guttersnipe lay before him, just waiting to be turned into something simply exquisite?
Of course, leave it to Armand to point to the most god-awful creature in existence first shot. She was everything your mother told you to stay away from. A hedonistic hellcat who managed by the grace of the Almighty to stuff her lumpy, buxom form into a gown that looked 3 sizes too small and a corset about 4 inches too tight. The most brazen shade of crimson adorned her, from her massive locks to her wrinkling lips to the overflowing river of red silk that skimmed the ground. Her eyes were rimmed with the murkiest shade of black while her teeth were the most grotesque shade of yellow.
"Oh dear God, Armand! I may be able to climb up towers..."
"...Only to unceremoniously tumble down" Armand quickly added.
"But I cannot walk on water! There's only so much that my blood can do."
"Your blood?" Armand stopped cold in the middle of the street, threatening to bumble into the Crimson Lady's rustling skirts. He skipped back a few steps with a shriek that caught the attention of the cherry colored lady. For a few fleeting seconds both Gentleman Death and the Crimson Lady had the most humorous blush on their cheeks; Armand from a pure preternatural anomaly, the Lady from an audacious amount of rouge.
"You mean to tell me you're going to make a fledging out of what ever poor unlucky soul you decide to tinker with tonight?" Armand sharply hissed.
"Well how else do you suggest I do it? Hell, this blood can do wonders!" Lestat declared with a puff of his broad chest.
"You intend to do this to all of your students?" Armand inquired incredulously
"Of course not, Armand. What kind of person do you take me for? New Orleans would be overrun with vampires and this city is simply too fantastic to succumb to an infestation of lowly fledglings."
"What are you talking about? You ARE a lowly fledgling." Armand sneered
"I won't dignify that with a response. The point is that if we're going to make this a wager well then I'm going to win it. What better way then to turn my pupil into the most charming, most convincing, most seductively charismatic vampire the world has ever seen?"
Armand snorted. "Oh you mean aside from yourself."
"Well I wasn't going to say it..." Sharp slap, second of the night. "What? Your words, not mine."
"Lestat, didn't I warn you before about fledglings? In the end they're simply more trouble than they're worth! They don'r understand vampiric loyalty and chivilry anymore. They will simply use you, leave you, and you'll never get over the loss. I see you are without your *mother* this evening. What did you do to upset her?"
"Bought her a dress." Lestat replied under his breath.
"Well it comes as no shock. Lestat your deed, as noble as it was to save your mother from the jaws of death, hasn't gone unpunished. Now she has a free ride for an eternity and you...well you're here with me. Not to my surprise.."
"..But much to my distress." Lestat huffed. "Armand, why must you be such a killjoy? I simply want some company in this New World. And it shall not be you."
"Why, is it because I irritate you too much?" Armand sniffed.
"Non." Lestat turned to his friend with a soft smile as he lightly touched Armand's cheek. "It's because I love you too much, and in the end we'd grow apart and that's what upsets me." Lestat bent down, his lips almost touching Armand's cheek for a brief second. When he straightened, Armand ironically looked paler than death itself.
Armand, needless to say, was shocked at Lestat's blantant affection as he coughed in an effort to keep himself from weeping on site. "Ahem! Well I hardly find it fair or intelligent but then again I can hardly think of a way to stop you."
"You can just forfeit, admit that I am indeed supremely superior and then let me have my way with you. Save us all the trouble, and me the blood loss." Another slap quickly followed by another to further ingrain Armand's point.
"No because a bet is a bet and I'm not one to back down. Just do me one favor."
"What would that be?"
"Don't give that THING the Dark Gift," He pleaded with a shaking hand in the direction of the Crimson Lady, who continued to shuffle her large form down the street, simply two mere paces ahead of the devilish duo. "Or we'll have to suffer with her for an eternity. There's not enough of vampire blood in existence that can cure what she has!"
Lestat's face lit up with a devilish gleam. "Why I don't know, Armand." He declared slowly as he slid up to her and gave the woman the scare of a lifetime. She fumbled with her obtrusive black lace fan to shade her blushing face as Lestat slid his arm around her waist in the most indecent proposal.
"Madame, if I may. You are simply stunning! Why, I don't think I've ever seen a woman quite as fascinating as you!" the Lady giggled foolishly and shaded her eyes as Lestat kissed her wrinkled hand while stealthily slipping off a ruby encrusted ring and placing it in his pocket. Armand rolled his eyes at the tawdry display and continued to walk further from the scene.
"Look at that face! Those radiant eyes! Those lips--oh kissing cherries they are! Why----she is the most, uh----alluring creature I've ever seen!"
//You mean frightening// Armand corrected mentally from a fair distance down the street. Lestat simply shrugged in an easy way as he proceeded to tango with the woman into an alleyway, spouting sonnets and testaments to her 'fetching features' with all of his earnest.
It seemed like only a few short seconds before Lestat reemerged with a rosy flush on his alabaster complexion. However, the Crimson Lady was nowhere in sight.
"Ugh, that was disgusting. Lestat, how do you respect yourself in the evening?" Armand groaned as he and Lestat turned the corner. Lestat fussed with the lace on his sleeves and primped his hair.
"Quite simply, my dear. I don't." he stated matter-of-factly as people cleared the way for him and his accomplice. Men tipped their hats, whores lifted their skirts, and the respectable ladies could only blush. "But others do, and that makes all the difference in the world to me."
Armand turned to his friend and was close to saying something impudent about Lestat's vanity, his God complex, his excessive narcissism. Instead, all he could do was tenderly squeeze Lestat's hand.
Author Note: I finally got to post this..July is crazy for me and computer access is limited *pout* But I've written the next three chapters already so they shall be coming in rapid succession. Thanks to all those who reviewed the last part, it's sincerely appreciated. To all those who thought the Lestat-Armand chumminess to be perplexing, sorry but I have a fixation on that coupling but NOT more so that of Lestat-Louis so the following parts won't have Stat and Armand quite so friendly..especially since Louis is finally in the spec! [sort of]
..Anyway same disclaimer applies.Don't own the VC Characters nor the My Fair Lady/Pygmalion tale the spec is based on.
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Part Three
"Armand, is this wager going anywhere soon because I'm simply growing tired of us not being able to agree on anything." Lestat sighed wearily as he and Armand came to a stand-still in the middle of the street.
Armand snorted "You'll be tired for centuries because we'll NEVER agree on anything. You can't seem to agree on a single person I choose for you. It's not even your choice to make, it's any mortal that *I* choose, not any mortal *we* choose." Armand snapped as Lestat continued to scan random mortals for their eligibility.
"What about that one?" Lestat asked as he pointed to a pretty young woman, no older than sixteen, with ginger colored curls and large gray pools for eyes.
"No"
"And that one?" Lestat inquired as he pointed to a commanding man, old in age but young at heart. His white hair betraying his true age even though his glittering blue eyes still held the spark of youth. He was Lestat if Lestat was ever given the chance to grow old and to see all that the man had seen. He made his way down the street, kissing the hands of young ladies as they blushed and giggled at the old gentleman. Lestat already began to feel close to the man and they hadn't had the pleasure of a proper introduction.
"No. Lestat, were you listening at all?" Armand replied sternly.
"Armand," Lestat addressed his elder as if he were addressing a young child who did not understand why Daddy did the things he did. "I don't understand why you have to be so stubborn. We are not making any progress."
Armand quizzically gave Lestat a short glance and retaliated with a teacher-like tone of his own. "Lestat, darling. We are not making progress because you don't seem to understand...I'M picking the mortal, not YOU."
Lestat betrayed his short-term superiority for a far brattier and more characteristic whine. "Well damnit Armand, I just can't have any fun can I! You follow me to an entirely different country, where I had full intent to by on my absolute worst behavior..."
"...You? Bad behavior? I shudder to think!" Armand spat.
Lestat continued his tirade with increasing fervor. "Then you hassle me about my ideals, you hassle me about Gabrielle, you hassle me about wanting a fledgling. Nag, nag, and nag in French! It's like we're married!"
"Lestat that is because you can't..." Armand protested.
"No it's because you can't!" Lestat retorted.
"I can't what?!" Armand yelled back. They were causing a horrendous scene in the street and men and ladies were peaking out of shop windows and carriages to see what the fuss was about.
"Well...whatever you were saying I can't do because I know that I can and I know I can do it twenty times better than you!"
"Lestat, you're acting like a child!" Armand hissed.
"Well you treat me as a child! I'll simply cry like a child until I get my way. Is that what you want?!" Lestat yelled hysterically.
"Lestat, stop it. You're causing a scene!"
"Scene? I haven't begun to cause a scene!" Lestat declared proudly. That was enough for Armand to hear as he dragged Lestat unto the alley. A small troupe of people rushed in, excepting to see a brawl of massive and scandalous proportions. Instead, they saw nothing at all.
"Lestat!" Armand seethed from his spot above the street on the roof of the La Cafe des Amies Boutique while Lestat snickered behind him. "Was that really necessary?"
"Yes!" Lestat exclaimed between giggles. I've learned that if you want something bad enough, you have to fight for it. As loudly and obnoxiously as possible."
"Well you certainly accomplished that much!"
"How you managed to hoist me up here, I cannot fathom." Lestat sighed with a sleepy smile.
"How you managed not to fall down clumsily on the way up, I cannot fathom." Armand retorted.
"What are you talking about, snipe?" Lestat asked with an air of arrogance as he slowly stood from his spot behind Armand, where he had been lazily attempting to count all the stars in the sky and had come up to a rather impressive count of 2,307 thus far. "I am the picture of---"
With that announcement he tumbled ungracefully over his feet and into Armand's arms with a small giggle.
"Let me guess. You're the picture of grace and poise?" Armand asked as he unceremoniously dropped Lestat from his arms and haughtily sauntered away and slipped down the building into the lane.
"What was that god-awful woman drinking?" Lestat wondered as dusted himself off from his spot on the cement.
//I don't know, you tell me. You were all over her minutes earlier.// Armand accosted bitterly.
//Are you still sore about that? Why, because you didn't get your sip in?// Lestat answered as he hopped down beside Armand.
//No, I don't drink from just any whore, rogue, or villain I find on the street. I guess that's a difference between you and me. I have limitations, obviously you don't.//
//Oh I have limitations, Armand. One of them is you. Why do you think I left Paris?// Lestat thought smugly.
Armand's resignation cracked. His plan to not let Lestat get the best of him had finally run its course. "My patience with you has just about run thin. I'm tired and you've been nothing but constant aggravation for the past three hours! So I'll leave you to your work...the next person that walks out THAT door shall be damned!" he stated with reddening cheeks as he pointed to the Cher Noir Tavern. "They'll have to deal with you for an eternity because I shall not!"
Lestat looked on with a mix of surprise and amusement. He never planned Armand to get so upset, but then again he and Armand always had conflicting interests. The fact that they managed to have each other's company for so long with out one of them suffering severe blood loss was a pleasant surprise for the both of them. So it was a good enough idea for them to part before things became truly ugly.
But that's not what happened, not at all. Because in Armand's moment of animosity came a moment of clarity for the both of them. Because Armand finally struck gold and Lestat was not complaining. Actually, Lestat wasn't even breathing. Because an angel walked out of that tavern and straight into their lives.
To Be Continued...