[Astarion is, at his nature, a creature of the night. He's come to appreciate the sun and the daylight so very much after two centuries deprived of it, but that doesn't change certain unavoidable truths. He is a vampire, and for a vampire, the hunt is easier at night. For the time being, he's keeping his condition something of a secret -- though Gale and Lae'zel know what he is, have known since that came out a bit awkwardly at camp -- and limiting his hunting to the local fauna. He tries to focus on the more wild wildlife, but there have definitely been at least a few sheep and cows that have been lured away from their herd and become his dinner.
Better than rats. Always better than rats.
He's coming back from a successful hunt -- and one more farmer will find one fewer sheep in his flock -- when he finds himself crossing paths with... a walking pumpkin?
[And that may be why you come across a pale elf in a full on brawl with a walking pumpkin. He's having more trouble with it than one would expect, but it's quicker than he would have hoped.
Or maybe you come upon the aftermath where Astarion is covered in pumpkin guts like some gourd-based serial killer, beating the former Illithid-craved squash into a pulp, screaming in frustration. He's fine. this is fine.]
[ 2. Devotion (A) - OPEN ]
[Astarion takes the mask he is offered and wears it like a good, obedient little cult-abductee. It's still obvious who he is. Even with the -- eugh -- robes and hood that half-hides his distinct white hair, the red eyes that peer out from the mask and the pale skin still visible make it unmistakable.
The food holds no interest for him, but he's found himself some liquor or another. Also not his first choice, but this isn't the place to go biting strangers. So instead he sighs and settles back to watch.]
I can't believe I'm playing games with a cult. You do realize how ridiculous this is, don't you? What exactly are they aiming to accomplish?
[It's when the chanting start that he goes full petulant child, groaning and leaning his head back against the wall.] Oh gods, free wine was not worth this. Do you suppose we can slip out unnoticed?
[ 2. Devotion (b) - CLOSED TO GALE ]
[Masks or no, he'd know Gale anywhere. The familiar scent of him the strange magic that thrums through his blood, he's come to know them well. Also there's the fact that Gale never really stops talking -- and can't the same be said for Astarion himself -- that it's not entirely difficult to track him down.
He doesn't have a name to put to the reason why he feels drawn to Gale like a moth to the wizard's utterly lethal Netherese flame. Or if he does, he's not a brave enough man to voice it. Instead he simply allows it to guide his steps. The chanting is still ringing in his ears, the fading visions. Like the world will end come the dawn, and perhaps now is exactly the time to name those unnamed things. or perhaps something entirely more foolish.
Maybe that's why as he comes up behind Gale, he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around the wizard's waist from behind, tucking his chin over his shoulder.]
Gale... I'm hungry. [And he's not even entirely certain for what.]
[ 3. Clairvoyance ]
[And then the world doesn't end. Awkward.
Especially awkward in that, even without ending, the latest trick of this place seems to be filling his head with visions of the end. He sees terrible things, for the few people he's come to care about -- so few in this place and not many more even back in Faerun. But oh the end he sees, it's nauseating enough that he manages to look even paler than normal.
There is likely a very frantic, very pale looking elf running up to you barely making sense.] My face... tell me my face is normal. It isn't changing. It can't be. Not here, not now.
[ 4. Wildcard ]
(( ooc: something you fancy that isn't here? hit me up! or poke me on seasided to plot something out. ))
Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3
[Astarion is, at his nature, a creature of the night. He's come to appreciate the sun and the daylight so very much after two centuries deprived of it, but that doesn't change certain unavoidable truths. He is a vampire, and for a vampire, the hunt is easier at night. For the time being, he's keeping his condition something of a secret -- though Gale and Lae'zel know what he is, have known since that came out a bit awkwardly at camp -- and limiting his hunting to the local fauna. He tries to focus on the more wild wildlife, but there have definitely been at least a few sheep and cows that have been lured away from their herd and become his dinner.
Better than rats. Always better than rats.
He's coming back from a successful hunt -- and one more farmer will find one fewer sheep in his flock -- when he finds himself crossing paths with... a walking pumpkin?
Of course it has to be this pumpkin, and the familiar figure carved in there is enough that it sets of Astarion's alarm bells, and his temper.]
Oh no, none of that. Not clever and not funny.
[And that may be why you come across a pale elf in a full on brawl with a walking pumpkin. He's having more trouble with it than one would expect, but it's quicker than he would have hoped.
Or maybe you come upon the aftermath where Astarion is covered in pumpkin guts like some gourd-based serial killer, beating the former Illithid-craved squash into a pulp, screaming in frustration. He's fine. this is fine.]
[ 2. Devotion (A) - OPEN ]
[Astarion takes the mask he is offered and wears it like a good, obedient little cult-abductee. It's still obvious who he is. Even with the -- eugh -- robes and hood that half-hides his distinct white hair, the red eyes that peer out from the mask and the pale skin still visible make it unmistakable.
The food holds no interest for him, but he's found himself some liquor or another. Also not his first choice, but this isn't the place to go biting strangers. So instead he sighs and settles back to watch.]
I can't believe I'm playing games with a cult. You do realize how ridiculous this is, don't you? What exactly are they aiming to accomplish?
[It's when the chanting start that he goes full petulant child, groaning and leaning his head back against the wall.] Oh gods, free wine was not worth this. Do you suppose we can slip out unnoticed?
[ 2. Devotion (b) - CLOSED TO GALE ]
[Masks or no, he'd know Gale anywhere. The familiar scent of him the strange magic that thrums through his blood, he's come to know them well. Also there's the fact that Gale never really stops talking -- and can't the same be said for Astarion himself -- that it's not entirely difficult to track him down.
He doesn't have a name to put to the reason why he feels drawn to Gale like a moth to the wizard's utterly lethal Netherese flame. Or if he does, he's not a brave enough man to voice it. Instead he simply allows it to guide his steps. The chanting is still ringing in his ears, the fading visions. Like the world will end come the dawn, and perhaps now is exactly the time to name those unnamed things. or perhaps something entirely more foolish.
Maybe that's why as he comes up behind Gale, he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around the wizard's waist from behind, tucking his chin over his shoulder.]
Gale... I'm hungry. [And he's not even entirely certain for what.]
[ 3. Clairvoyance ]
[And then the world doesn't end. Awkward.
Especially awkward in that, even without ending, the latest trick of this place seems to be filling his head with visions of the end. He sees terrible things, for the few people he's come to care about -- so few in this place and not many more even back in Faerun. But oh the end he sees, it's nauseating enough that he manages to look even paler than normal.
There is likely a very frantic, very pale looking elf running up to you barely making sense.] My face... tell me my face is normal. It isn't changing. It can't be. Not here, not now.
[ 4. Wildcard ]
(( ooc: something you fancy that isn't here? hit me up! or poke me on