Lestat describes himself as a six foot tall man. He has thick blond hair, not quite shoulder length, and that is slightly curly, which appears white under fluorescent light. His eyes are gray, but they absorb the colors of blue or violet easily from surfaces around them. He has a short narrow nose, and a mouth that is well shaped but just a little too big for his face. His mouth can look very mean, or extremely generous. But it always looks sensual. He has a continuously animated face. Lestat's fingernails look like glass. When starved of blood, he states he looks like a "perfect horror": with shrunken skin, veins like ropes over his bones.
Throughout his long life, Lestat is plagued by common philosophical questions, such as "Are my actions good or bad?", "Is there a God?", "Am I in His plan?", "What happens after death?", and "What makes a person happy?" He finds himself more in love with humanity than ever before, despite his relationship with mankind being savage. For a while, he saw life as "the Savage Garden," filled with beauty and death
It was simple really. That Lestat had made up in his mind and he was positive of just that. And what was claimed to be in such simplicity? This damned situation Louis had got him into. It wasn't difficult to fool him, was it? Lestat was sure of that-he knew Louis had his weak spots while Lestat had been utterly convinced he, himself had none.
There she lay. The small, doll-like girl that had obviously droven Louis into a fit guilt and depression after feasting off her. Why couldn't he see that they were all just apart of the circle of life? How could he deny the fact that every single, solitary human could behave just as horribly as any vampire could? Lestat felt sickened that Louis even had got him to question himself sometimes. Perhaps, what they were was agaisnt nature or "God's Way". Perhaps, they weren't suppose to be this way-it was some flaw in the system of life.
But what's the use in crying over every single little mistake.
"Always whining, Louis." Lestat mummbled in the bitter french accent he gave forth, though he was obviously speaking to no one. His eyes snapped back to the girl for a moment. How filthy she looked, dirt covering her hands and face-a raggedy dress laying agaisnt her skin. He knew something must had happened to the poor child beforehand, but honestly he saw that as no concern of his any longer.
Her skin was most likely very pale under the filthy dirt that lay apon it. Locks of golden brunette waves lay caressing her beck and face in such a lovely manner. How small....so very and small and doll-like she was. He tilted his head like a confussed puppy, a plot finally evolving in his mind-slowly but surely.
Lestat rose to his feet, setting his composure in a calm like manner and forcing his voice into a serene and empathetic tone aswell. Louis wouldn't see through his diguise-it was far to clever. This is what he had to do to make him stay? Honestly, he scolded himself for even putting out this much effort but knew he did it without regret. He stepped into the other room, a candle in hand and tapped Louis on the shoulder. "I have to show you something."
{Sorry, It's not very good, Johanna. I know it's nto exactly how everything happened but I didn't tihnk you'd mind the changes....hopefully.}
