shit-talking the glitterati

[the_cupbearer]

Sitting on a convenient bench in the middle of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Ganymede crosses his ankles, legs outstretched in front of him. It's a mix of snow and drizzling, misty rain outside through the wide glass windows, and he's enjoying playing tourist in his own city. The art is magnificent, he remembers much of it being made--and in front of him is a painting of his own story. The Abduction of Ganymede.

"I know it's supposed to be beautiful art," he murmurs. "But most of what I remember is the artists groping me. And most of them were bad at it to boot," he chuckles. "They all thought they were so irresistible, do you remember?"

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[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede shakes his head gently at Armand's rebuttal about his age, grazing the pad of his thumb over the corner of his friend's mouth affectionately. "You aren't that much younger than I am, are you?" he asks, and both eyebrows lift gently as he laughs.

"You know, one day I will have to meet that man, just to see what he's like," Ganymede chuckles. "I've heard a decent amount about him, but never from the man himself." He's got opinions on what he's heard, yes, and he values Armand as an honest friend: so it's likely he will have at least a few issues with Lestat, but currently all of it's unfounded. "Oh--"

He can't help the little unfettered laugh when Armand leaves him to get his drink, and though he knows there are people staring at him, hoping he'll look their way, though he has eyes for no one but his friend right now. Ganymede loves easily, he knows that, but there's something about having a kinship with someone who understands--who knows personally what life has done to them--that touches him quite deeply. And there's relief as well, because whille he knows he may well lose Armand to something, it won't be simply time. He doesn't feel the tug of it like sand through an hourglass the way he does with mortals.

"I started to wonder if you were coming back," he murmured in gentle teasing once Armand returned, turning his hand out in offer to hold his friend's.

[inamabilis]

"For a wide definition of younger, I suppose." There are a lot of people around them, most chatting and distracted with their own affairs or conversations, but it still pays to be cautious. More so now that Armand is aware of the Talamasca putting their noses in his business, he's going to have to do something about that soon.

He scrunches his nose at the idea of seeing Lestat ever again, even if Ganymede's laugh is always pleasant to his ears.

"Do not. He has a way to get into people's heads and charm his way out of any problem he himself created."

Not unlike Armand himself, this is absolutely a pot-calling-the-kettle-black situation, but Armand is purposely ignoring the blatant hypocrisy of his reply. He can't help but worry that Lestat's charm, which had caused him no small amount of issues because Armand himself isn't immune to it, will cost him to lose another friend, another companion. Ganymede might not lose Armand to time, but he might want him out of his life if Lestat brought up just how many ways Armand is monstrous.

He's by the bar in only a few strides, using his powers to get the bartender's attention over the rest of the people waiting their turn, and returning to Ganymede's side with two drinks. His wine is mostly to keep up appearances of normality, but Ganymede's drink is one of his favorite ones.

"Oh, sweetheart, I can never part with you for long." He places the drink on the nearby railing with a smile and reaches out to squeeze the offered hand. His expression sobers up a little after a moment, and he adds, because he can't not help it. "I know Lestat might seems like a fascinating subject of conversation to those who had never had the misfortune of meeting him directly. I am also aware that my own opinions about him might be a little biased. But if you have questions about him, I might answer them."

[the_cupbearer]

"You'll have to tell me sometime. Maybe later," he murmurs, because he can recognize the caution from Armand. He isn't often one to give details about himself in public either, not that he has many that would cause a stranger alarm. He won't push his friend to be as open as he is, because Ganymede knows Armand is not the same kind of man he is. There are many reasons for that.

And Lestat appears to be one of them, judging by the subtle shifts on his companion's face at bringing up the possibility of meeting him. "I don't mean to upset you in saying that, you know. I like meeting people, and largely...they are only people, despite all our individual quirks." He considers Armand and Daniel slightly apart, yes, but that's more because he personally likes them, less because they're both vampires. He has no interest in interrogating anyone to dig up unsavory things from the past--if he did it to himself, he'd hate it. He won't to someone else, not without a very compelling reason. "He seems like an interesting man, that's all. Whether that is for more than a passing moment remains to be seen." And there are many, many people that are only interesting for a moment: a day, a night, a week. And Ganymede loses interest.

He is aware, uncomfortably so sometimes, that he is a mercurial sort. He wants what he wants, and sometimes he doesn't want to exercise more patience than he already does to get it. "Do you think my head would be so easily turned?" he asks, sipping his drink as he twines their fingers together in reassurance, looking out at the crowd. "I told you once I value your company for many reasons, love. None of them are so shallow as I think you fear."

[inamabilis]

"Later then, during our walk."

This isn't Armand trying to deflect the subject for once; this time it's a promise. Ganymede knew a few things about his past and how he had lived in Venice, but Armand kept the other, more gruesome details to himself, including his age back then and what happened before he was found by Marius. And especially after the Children of Satan found them. After all, how do you say to someone, 'The last person I considered my best friend died by my hand'? Or rather, his fangs. Blinding thirst after being locked up didn't leave Armand with any rational mind back then, but he still

He's not ready to tell Ganymede everything, but he trusts the man enough to honor all the offered affection with some returned honesty.

"Yes, I know, G. I'm not angry at you. I think that I am mostly angry at myself."

Lestat has always been and always will be a touchy subject. Part of Armand will always feel affection towards the man; it's like trying to get clean from a drug. You try to ignore the pull, sometimes remembering how good it made you feel, which is instantly followed by all the unpleasant things that happened after, and yet you long for some of it.

The other part of Armand wants Lestat's head on a spike.

Complicated doesn't 'even begin to explain what these two have had going on for more than a hundred years.

"Besides, I can't control who you decide to hang out with, even if they're bad influences." Such as himself, Armand means this time, showing a little fang as he grins. "Lestat does have some wild, interesting stories to tell, especially about himself. He is his own favorite subject of conversation. Just be careful if you ever meet him. He might look like an angel, but he's more like the serpent in the Garden of Eden."

And now he's being dramatic. Count on Lestat to bring that out of Armand even when he isn't present. Personal issues aside, he understands why Ganymede might want to meet other immortals; there is a degree of understanding about their existence that you can't get with normal humans.

"No, you've lived too much and know far better, but it's just..." And then Armand's voice falters, and he frowns, not exactly sure where the line wanted to end despite his determined first 'no.' Because Armand knows Ganymede is smarter than that, that he has a good eye for seeing people's true nature, and the heart to decide if they are worthy or not...but Armand also knows that there's something truly magnetic about Lestat that defies all logic.

It's hard to believe anyone would pick Armand over him, even for a friendship. Louis sure didn't, nor did anyone else. Even Daniel, who should know better after everything Louis told him about the blond, should know better than to go near him, and yet Armand is sure that Molloy's curiosity won't 'ever be sated until he can talk to Lestat.

He shakes his head.

"You're right. And pondering about what ifs is wasting time."

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede watches Armand with a mildly unreadable expression as he speaks, features soft as he considers his friend's words and face. He knows how it feels to be conflicted about a past friend, a past lover, sometimes someone who was in the past both. He knows intimately the push-and-pull of still wanting someone even if you know you shouldn't.

It's hearing him describe Lestat as a snake in the garden that makes him chuckle just a little, fingers squeezing. "You know, I've heard myself spoken of just about the same way," he murmurs, shaking his head. He feels much the same way about Zeus as Armand does about Lestat: he's had enough dealings with the man to know no good will come of it. Ganymede can't help but think of the phantom feel of fingers in his hair, however securely it has been braided all day, or the thoughtless caresses that had never seemed anything but possessive, as if they'd all needed to remind themselves--and him--that he was an object of affection.

But an object nonetheless.

And still, he knows the thoughts he can all but hear echoing behind Armand's face--he understands. The pervasive, insidious idea that they are not enough, despite all evidence to the contrary, is difficult to quiet, and impossible to silence. Ganymede has lived with that voice ever-present in him for millennia, and the unceasing repetition has left him with many of the same problems as Armand. It is one of the many commonalities that drew him to the vampire in the hope that they might be close enough that their loneliness could be relieved. Just for a little while.

He finishes his drink, not bothering to pretend it's going to affect him, and shifts until his arm is pressed to Armand's from shoulder to wrist, affectionate and companionable. He does like the man. "No, I know. It just," he agrees, with the tone that says he truly does know, and no other words are necessary. "So why Brooklyn Heights?"

[inamabilis]

At this point, he doesn't know if whatever exists between Lestat and him can be savaged, and he also doesn't know if he wants it. There's too much bad blood between them, literal and figurative, but there's also kinship. Just like Ganymede was thinking when he first mentioned an interest in meeting Lestat, his kinship with Armand is the kind you can only find in those who have lived similar experiences or for as long as you have.

That's why the whole issue with Danniel right now is even harder to deal with than Lestat. Lestat, at least Armand can manage to ignore for the most part. His fledgling, not so much. He can't even hear Danniel's thoughts anymore, and it's the part that drives Armadn up the walls. He's doing Ganymede a disservice thinking about past partners and whatnot when his good friend is the one keeping him company, and he decides to focus instead on the man and his lovely laugh.

"Tell me who was so unkind as to call you that, and I'll make them pay for it. Provided that they're still around and have now been underground for, let's say, a few centuries by now. If it's the latter case, it might be trickier, but I could manage."

The last bit is a joke, but given how there are witches and ghosts in this world, finding ways to torture a bastard's soul might be possible with the correct motivations. Of course, Armand can make a few polite assumptions about what sort of person might say these things about Ganymedes. And granted, gods above are trickier to punish for their selfie misdeeds; it's why so many get away with them, but there must be a way still.

He enjoys the cigarette as Ganymede finishes the drink, briefly studying their surroundings and keeping track of time to make sure he can time their departure from the museum correctly so he can move in to grab the painting. He smiles, taken aback by Ganymedes' so easily offered affection - part of him always will be- and looks at the other man with appreciation. He feels seen and understood, and that's rare. Instead of saying anything, Armand nods and presses himself a little closer.

"It's a nice place at night. I like the views of the city" And it's far away from the museum, so it makes for a good alibi about where they would be at the time of the theft if, for whatever reason, anyone came investigating in the future. "I'm an old man; sometimes I just want to look at the beauty in the world." He made a show of staring at Ganymede up and down and grinning. "But if you want to go somewhere else, we can change our plans."