Vivian Blackwell-Du Pont

Red (Demon trait)

Fashionably late
was the only way Vivian operated with anyone outside her family. One just couldn’t persuade the dark-haired woman otherwise… yet, when the wife of Mr. Marcus Du Pont entered a room, her presence might’ve been worth the wait. It was obvious this daughter of Adrian Blackwell had a glamorous flair to her life—like now: the form-fitted black dress hugged its length at her knees and covered her elbows, while its top-design exposed the woman’s collarbone and trendily cut down between her breasts with a sheer overlay. As if to display some sense of modesty, ermine draped casually over her left shoulder and around her right elbow. Immaculately-curled tresses, nude lips, smoky eyes, demure diamond earrings… after all, this was only casualwear. But no one in their right mind wore cocktail attire to a magazine interview… however, who was to say Mrs. Du
Pont was in a perfect state of mind?

Just as the woman and her equally-pristine husband strolled arm-in-arm through the waiting room doors, Elizabet greeted them quickly, “*Mrs. Blackwell-Du Pont, I’m glad you finally chose to join us. I hadn’t expected your husband, but welcome as well, Mr. Du Pont*.” Trace of snark? Maybe. Deadlines had to be met for the ‘Out of Time’ magazine; and Elizabet had just been complaining of tardiness to Eisley.

But in an undeniable quick up-down glance, Adrian’s daughter mused teasingly to the journalist, “*Oh, darlin’, no need to waste all those syllables on those pretty lips*,” the
Southern-Creole accent spilled past her humored grin, “*I insist you call me Vivian*.” She then patted on her husband’s hand gently, “*And Marcus here… well… I’m sure you’ll find me the livelier one nowadays*.” The drawl on the last word was heavy, as vowel sounds were in Vivian’s voice, “*He’s fine just being here. Isn’t that the honest truth, sweetheart*?” His wife of eight years looked up to what she considered to be a delicious male jawline.

Marcus Du Pont—a handsome human-shell born and bred in old wealth of Louisiana—did not return Vivian’s gaze, continued to stare directly at Elizabet, and only grunted a short, “*Hn.*”

Elizabet, after the onslaught of social chatter emitted by Vivian and gawking of Marcus, looked between the couple before she extended a hand towards each Du Pont, “*I’m happy to have you both, Mrs. Vivian, Mr. Du Pont*,” the succubus painted a political smile, “*I am Elizabet Carson, a leading journalist at Out of Time, and I’ll be conducting interviews for the Blackwell articles. If we may…?*” Elizabet gestured down the nearby corridor after handshakes.

“*We may*,” Vivian nodded slowly, and the trio exited to Elizabet’s chosen destination; much like a Lady
and Lord of a house might follow behind a servant, least that was the air in which the Mrs. and Mr. paced towards the room. “*Now ain’t this quaint*,” Vivian leaned into the man’s arm as their little group moved into the interviewing space, “*Miss. Elizabet, don’t go spoilin’ me. I’m insatiable, dear*.” Ah, Vivian would enjoy picking at Ms. Carson’s professionalism during this meeting. Intention said so by the ill-behaved glint in those warm irises.

“*It would be my pleasure to do so, Mrs. Vivian*,” Elizabet smoothly said in rebuttal. Harmless fun, right? “*Please, both of you, take a seat. May I offer you and Mr. Du Pont a drink of any kind?*” Vivian didn’t hesitate to answer for herself and Marcus, “*We’re fine, darlin’, let us get started.*” Elizabet took her supplies and sat down, “*Very well*,” then flipped her notepad open.

## First, please state your full name and any titles you may carry.

Vivian*: “Well, as of today, that’d be Vivian Hellebore Blackwell-Du Pont; and trust me, all the breath to say that is enough title for me. Anyone who doesn’t know my surnames doesn’t deserved much of anything.”*

Elizabet: *“Is this why you kept your maiden name?”*

Vivian*: “Doll, if you were me, would you allow any husband to overshadow your Daddy’s legacy? As if something like that could happen anyways…”*

Elizabet*: “Point taken. You mentioned 'as of today', does that mean you've had other names in the past?"*

Vivian: "*Why, yes! You sure do enjoy being precise with your work, don't you? If we're being picky, my full name is truly Vivian Hellebore Crockett-Lammert-Ross-Williams-Adams-Robinson... Blackwell-Dupont."*

## When and where exactly were you born?

Vivian: "*Oh, I just love Georgia. Especially in my younger years, back in the 50s. A bustlin' little settlement in that prime."*

Elizabet: "*You were born in the 1950s then?"*

Vivian: "*No, no, honey, 1753."*

## I'm sure our readers would love to know a bit about your background and how you ended up where you are now.

Vivian: *"Well, ain't that a curious question to start of with. Awfully vague, don't you think?"*

## Tell us about your family. Are you close with them?

Vivian: "*Depends. What decade it is and what are they wearing?"* she said in seriousness before sweet laughter escaped her, "*Oh, I just tease-- I've always believed my family to have set the standard for all others."*

Elizabet: "*And what standard is that, Mrs. Vivian?*"

Vivian: "Well, m*y Daddy is just the most beloved man you'd ever meet, so is my Mama. Now, my sisters might call me codded and suffocating at times, but I call it being loved and loving back."*

Elizabet: "*Seems like a perfect standard then."*

Vivian: "*God be damned if it isn't."*

## What would you describe your sexual orientation as?

Vivian: "*With legs like yours, Miss Carson, I can describe it any way you'd want*."

## Is there a special someone in your life?

Vivian: "*Oh, yes,"* after sharing grins with Elizabet at the previous question, Vivian sat taller and touched his wrist idly as if abruptly remembering the blonde-haired man seated next to her, "*Despite my flirtations, the love of my life is Mr. Marcus B. Du Pont."*

Elizabet: "*And how did you two meet? Our readers might be interested to know Mr. Du Pont is human."*

Vivian: "*Was, my dear. But I'll get to that."* Here, the fashionable woman turned her shoulders towards Elizabet, bluntly disregarding Marcus for any input in the story, "*Y'see, it's just the loveliest tale-- we met at a party in New Orleans. He was fresh-face heir to a Du Pont fortune, recently graduated from Louisiana State University. I was a in town for some business. Now,"* Vivian paused to grip Marcus' chin gently and turned his face slightly to the left and right for Elizabet, "*just look at that pouty mouth. How could I **not** want that in my life?"* With a quick pat to his cheek, her arm returned to her lap.

Elizabet: "*Lust at first sight, I assume?"*

Vivian: "*Well, he was just as a pretty as a peach. We hit it off instantly. He's such a conversationalist, that college-educated man of mine."*

Elizabet: "*Is that so? I wouldn't have guessed."*

Vivian: "*Yes, he was charming as all get out. We dated here and there, off and on for a few months. I had just broken off from my previous romantic partner, so you can imagine my hesitancy for commitment."*

Elizabet: "*Forgive the question, Mr. Du Pont, but are you willing to share anything on that romantic partner, Mrs. Vivian? Tabloids covered it heavily back in 1989."*

Vivian: "*Darlin', by your reckoning, what makes you think I wouldn't share? He was,"* she paused to mentally count faces backwards, "*ah, one Baron Anton Waldstein, greenest eyes I've ever seen on an incubus. Mind you, our break-up was just about as open-ended as our relationship was. We both loved our paramours, and still keep connections to this day. But back to my favorite charmer,"* Vivian regarded her current husband adoringly, "*my beautiful man... he had some **outside affiliates** of his own, once upon a time. We had a nice, long chat about that; and...*," Vivian cleared her throat theatrically, "*some grave mistakes were made, more so on my part. Can't help it when you're madder than a wet hen, but I fixed it!"* She laughed, "*And now, I just know Marcus appreciates his new life. With me. Just like I deeply appreciate him."*

Elizabet: "*And if Mr. Du Pont was human before, what is he now exactly?"*

Vivian: "*Mine,"* those lips smiled wide, "*Mr. Du Pont is ineluctably mine."* Vivian waved a free hand with quickly added speech, "*With a little good ol' Creole voodoo thrown in the mix, nothing too warm and fuzzy. He could be chopped to bits and still work just fine. In all honesty, it is absolutely the **best** way to keep husbands around."*

Elizabet: "*Husbands, as in plural?"*

Vivian: "*Yes,"* she beamed unapologetic, "*all six of them. Happily-ever-forever, all in gratitude of me."* Like a employment list, Vivian began to list them off, "*I have one for Sunday, then Monday, a Tuesday, dry-cleaning, driving services--"*

Elizabet: "*We're still talking about your husbands, correct? Not your household staff?"*

Vivian: "*I fail to notice the difference."*

## Do you have any pets?

Vivian: At this question, Vivian only glanced down to the ermine fur and sighed prettily. After a moment, she blinked and looked back up to Elizabet, "*Pardon, what was the question again?"*

Eizabet: "*Nothing, let's move on..."*

## Veganism is the new way to eat. Do you follow it or a specific diet?

Vivian: "*I don't mind the trends, nor do I follow them relentlessly. Personally, I just prefer to keep good company for mealtimes, and that simply must include you soon, Miss Carson."*

Elizabet: "*Thank you for the offer. I'll have to keep it--"*

Vivian: *"On the very top of your list."*