Linda Nightingale, author of Black Swan, and Tony-Paul Visage, author of Dark God Descending, interviewer their Undead creations.
Linda: Tony-Paul and I have persuaded the lads, rather forcefully, to cease hostilities between nations long enough to have this interview.
Tony-Paul: That’s right, Linda. Damian and Morgan have met before, with fairly amicable results, so I don’t see why the others can’t behave as civilized vampires for a couple of hours, at least.
(“The lads” are standing on each side of the room—Damian, Domingo, and Marek on one side, almost in a huddle, occasionally throwing slightly baleful glances at Tristan, Morgan, and Lucien, who are forcefully nonchalant.)
Damian: (French, disdainful, and knock-‘em-dead handsome, and has on many occasions): Look, mon amis, I know you two don’t want to be here, but this is Tony-Paul, our historian…and adopted brother…so what can we do?
Domingo: (Spanish and a lot more, a conde’s son and proud of it): What can we do? I’ll tell you! We can fly right out of here and back to those two girls we left. Dios! When I think how I’ve let that little Creole talk me into leaving my Estrellita! And for what? To face these…Ingles? (He looked over at the others with a dark-eyed glare. Morgan meets his gaze and slouches defiantly against a pillar, arms crossed over his chest. Tristan quirks a devil-may-care smile. Lucien just ignores everyone.) What a babieca I am!
Marek (A former aventurieri assassin, he’s tuxedo-clad, 6’8”, dark, and wearing a black patch over his left eye): You can complain all you want, Domingo. I’ve a restaurant to run in New Orleans, and while I personally have no complaints against the British, I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing here. By all rights, I shouldn’t even be associating with the five of you. Tony-Paul knows very well it’s against aventurieri law for me to even be acquainted with the so-called Undead.
(In the meantime, Tristan, Lucien, and Morgan are having their own little debate about why they were insane enough to agree to this.)
Tristan: (Black hair and blue eyes. Reminds one of a young Pierce Brosnan) I’ve nothing against the French or the Spaniards, but I do think these chaps are a bit hostile. I didn’t know there were so many species of the Vampyre.
Lucien: (Tall and dark with black hair that streams to his shoulders, a mysterious man with the look of power) They aren’t members of The Vampyre. When Marek described the other two as Undead, he was referring to the traditional vampire of legend. I’m not familiar with Marek’s particular brand of vampirism. I’m curious, and that’s the sole reason I agreed to this farce. Otherwise, I’d leave and take the two of you with me.
Morgan: (6’2” of slender elegance with long blonde hair and blue eyes, a concert pianist and a British lord) The most powerful of the Vampyre speaks. Please, Lucien, stop throwing your weight around. I’ll leave as and when I wish. I certainly have nothing against the French, my mother having been French, but I’m not keen on the Spaniard’s attitude. At any rate, we’re here, and I do agree that Marek is a conundrum.
Linda: (sends Morgan a smile) All right, enough standing around, glaring at each other.
Tony-Paul: Oui! Let’s get this show on the road!
Damian (gives an ironic laugh): So here we are—the Quick (bows to TPV and LN), the Undead (gestures at himself and Domingo and the Brits) and the Undecided (nods at Marek.)
(Nothing but deadpan silence.)
Marek: Looks like a meeting of Vampyres R Us! (gives Lucien a smile that could freeze water) and I heard that remark! Conundrum? I may be from Transylvania, but I do know the meaning of the word! And (laughs good-naturedly) I heartily agree!
Domingo: So. What shall we talk about? Tony-Paul, Senorita Linda—ah, such a lovely name!--feel free to step in any time. A little help, por favor.
Lucien: (suddenly comes to life, turning a languid black gaze on Marek) Vampyres 'R us? I should think we’d have quite a lot to talk about.
Marek: I don’t care what you talk about…as long as it’s not about religion.
Lucien: An excellent idea. Why don’t we speak of religion? Linda, dear, I’ve heard that there is one among their group (a wave of one hand) who has no fear of the crucifix? Nor do we, of course, being a separate species, but I’m curious. Is that true or simply the work of an overzealous publicity agent,? What say, Domingo de Leyenda?
Domingo: No, I’m proud to admit. In fact, in my native Spain, those stupid peones could never figure out why their crosses didn’t stop me. They prayed and I preyed. The obvious never crossed their minds.
Lucien (with a knowing smile): The obvious being?
Domingo (shrugs): That crosses don’t bother me.
Lucien: And that is because…
(Domingo doesn’t answer. Damien grins, and elbows Marek, who manages a small smile.)
Morgan: Just say it, Domingo. Gads, it’s worse than pulling fangs to get you to explain.
Domingo (smirks): Sorry, Ingles. I’m Jewish. No cross is going to stop me. Now a Star of David… (shudders.)
Lucien: (flashes a fanged smile) Funny, you don’t look— No, I won’t be trite.
Damien: I remember when I first met Domingo—
Domingo: Si, it was just before the beginning of the Reign of Terror. I was sight-seeing in France—
Damian: And got yourself into a bit of a tight with the local gendarmes…
Domingo: We won’t go there. We mustn’t take the limelight totally away from our—ahem—brethren from across the Channel.
Morgan (takes a step forward and looks Marek up and down): So you’re the aventurieri. (He gives a wry smile) Odd. You don’t look different from any of us. Unlike Damien and Domingo, however, you are still breathing.
Marek (dryly): You noticed.
Morgan: Rather hard not to notice a man almost seven feet tall. You stick out like a sore thumb beside that runty Spaniard and my old friend, Damien there.
Marek: I’m not certain whether to be insulted or flattered.
Domingo: I know what I am, and it is most definitely not flattered. And all I have to say is… (Looks at Tristan) You! You’ve a Spanish look about you. What do you there with Los Ingles?
Tristan: You’re a perceptive man. My ancestry is Black Irish.
Domingo: Ah ha! So our friend Tristan, who has been noticeably quiet during this little interview, is “offshore Spanish” because of that “Armada Incident.” I’m told those Irish lasses welcomed our hot-blooded marineros espanoles with open arms…
Linda: (holds up a hand) Whoa! Sorry hangover from my horsy days. I think we’d better stop here before someone breaks the truce.
Tony-Paul: Gentlemen, the bar is open!
(Tomorrow, the lads will answer the question: “Just how different are you guys, anyway?” and also explain about Heterochromia, among other interesting vampire traits.)
(PICTURES FROM TOP: THE FABULOUS BRITS: 1) LUCIEN; 2) MORGAN; 3) TRISTAN)
Posted by Toni V.S. | 12:39 AM | Black Swan, Dark God Descending; Tony-Paul de Vissage; Maya, Linda Nightingale, vampires | 12 comments »