Louis de Point
by: leia105 firstname.lastname@example.org
with whom mortals fall in love"
Louis De Pointe Du
Lac. The only vampire to keep a mortal heart and sense of being and the
love and fledgling of Lestat. Born in the year 1766 destined to become
one of the more popular and recognized vampires although all of this means
very little to him and at times he's come to loathe it.
1791 was the year it
happened. Lestat offered him the choice and he accepted it. He
believed death to hold the key to all the happiness that had left him. However,
he was wrong and if anything death just brought greater pain cascading down
Known for being the
author of the New York Time's best selling book Interview with the Vampire is
not in his eyes an accomplishment. He told his story to rid himself of
the guilt he felt and to open up to another being like he hadn't done in
years. Although he never truly meant to keep it from being published he
never meant for it to be published either.
A complex being whose
soul makes his decisions for him. He is the silent one who will hang
away from a crowd and who thinks about what he is about to do. Overly
careful and perhaps in others eyes he thinks far too much. However,
without that thinking and sense of being he would be like the others and that
he has no wish to be.
Having loved and lost
only a few times his list of lovers could never equal even 1% of Lestats.
He clung to Claudia in the early years Lestat's temperament and behavior
enough at times to make him stay hidden from him for days on end. The
silent one whose experiences while not as dramatic as Lestats still remain
close to his heart.
Having left his
simple plantation life long ago only to embark on the devils road with Lestat
and the others. A private being whose soul knows no distance his heart
can't conquer. Determined to keep his mortal self-alive and not succumb
to a blood-sucking demon as some of the others have done.
A person who needs
the constant companionship and stability of friends he never held in
mortality. A rose yet to bloom in a savage garden full of thorns. Until
immortality itself comes to a close he will forever be this way.