Something’s the matter with Armand. [ how to summarise that which he hardly understands, as yet— ] He’s taken up residence in Jonty’s wine cellar, though “wine cellar” seems a generous term for the paltry collection, which is half-vinegar at this point and decorated with dust.
I intend to keep him company for a little while, if you’re wondering where I’ve slipped away to. Not that you would. It’s only that this seems like it may continue, for a time.
[ Something ugly twists in his gut. He'd noticed Gale was gone, of course, and now, to know that he's been at the side of another vampire ... he hisses even as he reads the text, his lips curling back over his fangs. His hands itch. Perhaps if he'd taken more of the ReSculpt, if he'd made more of an impression that first day (if he'd taken Gale to bed, on New Year's Eve)— ]
I see. May I be of any assistance? You could stay by his side, have me fetch whatever might be necessary.
[ there’s something off about the formality of the response — but there’s been something off about astarion for days now. ]
What does one fetch for a five-hundred-year-old vampire in a state of melancholy? Armand has a fondness for the strangest things, chiefly their component parts, yet he hardly seems of a mind to toy with them now.
[ his building game and scrap collection forgotten… ]
I’m carrying blood at all times, I suppose.
[ kind of joking, kind of not. he feels altogether useless, in truth. it won’t stop him from trying to help. ]
[ Another flash of jealousy, of anger, any sense of Gale's general kindness and generosity blurred by the idea that another vampire might feed from him before Astarion. ]
I suppose, even if his usual pursuits have lost their shine, hunger will still remain.
I wouldn't know. I've only had the offer to me extended once.
[ A snipe on two fronts — the first, the fact that they haven't discussed it at all, and the second, that he has (or at least may have) fed on someone else in the house. ]
Be careful, regardless. I'd hate to collect you from the bottom of a flight.
[ he should have offered. no, they’ve only been — astarion’s mouth has dared venture two places, his mouth (!) and his cheek (!!), so surely it would have been presumptive to suggest anywhere with a prominent vein. the wrist, the neck, the upper thigh —
i’m sure others would offer, if they thought it welcome, typed and deleted. i’ve never offered my blood to anyone also gets the boot, on account of him closely befriending two vampires total. would you like to — proves pathetic, like this whole conversation was a lead.
i fear i’m not for drinking, left hanging for a long moment, what with the ichor. the rot in his veins grows ever crueller, an affliction that’s begun to advance again, without mystra to feed it. he should have brought that up, before all this resculpt nonsense began. he should ask astarion now, in fact. or call matt to beg off a trinket. instead, he settles on the rather disastrous, ]
Good to know 👍 I’ll keep you apprised of my whereabouts.
[ At the sight of that little thumbs up, anger flares red-hot in the hollow of Astarion's chest. He couldn't fully define the shape of it even if he wanted to — is he angry with Gale? With Armand? With himself? (Perhaps he hasn't done enough, perhaps he—)
He can fix this. He can smooth the whole thing over, ensure that there's no one else who could occupy Gale's attention, make it clear what's his — make it clear he's not powerless any more. But he finds himself still at odds with the message in front of him, which accounts for the tonal shift of: ]
🙂 I'll think of you, my dear, until I see you again.
it’s a nice message, though. in theory. not at all the sort of thing astarion would have said before — but then this is all uncharted territory, isn’t it? it’s surely a good sign, if astarion has grown more overtly affectionate. ]
✉️ text — early jan.
I intend to keep him company for a little while, if you’re wondering where I’ve slipped away to.
Not that you would.
It’s only that this seems like it may continue, for a time.
no subject
I see.
May I be of any assistance? You could stay by his side, have me fetch whatever might be necessary.
no subject
What does one fetch for a five-hundred-year-old vampire in a state of melancholy? Armand has a fondness for the strangest things, chiefly their component parts, yet he hardly seems of a mind to toy with them now.
[ his building game and scrap collection forgotten… ]
I’m carrying blood at all times, I suppose.
[ kind of joking, kind of not. he feels altogether useless, in truth. it won’t stop him from trying to help. ]
no subject
[ Another flash of jealousy, of anger, any sense of Gale's general kindness and generosity blurred by the idea that another vampire might feed from him before Astarion. ]
I suppose, even if his usual pursuits have lost their shine, hunger will still remain.
You've no need of me, then?
no subject
Perhaps.
Is it the done thing?
[ would astarion know, if it were? he isn’t sure it would be wise with armand, after the mistletoe debacle, but he’d like to be of use. ]
You’ve not mentioned partaking outside mealtimes.
[ and astarion hasn’t — asked, which is fine. probably. unless there’s a reason he hasn’t asked that has to do with some failing of gale’s. oh god. ]
In any case, my knees aren’t so terrible that I’d require your helping hand on the stairs just yet, though I’m sure he’d be glad to see you as well.
no subject
I wouldn't know. I've only had the offer to me extended once.
[ A snipe on two fronts — the first, the fact that they haven't discussed it at all, and the second, that he has (or at least may have) fed on someone else in the house. ]
Be careful, regardless. I'd hate to collect you from the bottom of a flight.
no subject
[ he should have offered. no, they’ve only been — astarion’s mouth has dared venture two places, his mouth (!) and his cheek (!!), so surely it would have been presumptive to suggest anywhere with a prominent vein. the wrist, the neck, the upper thigh —
i’m sure others would offer, if they thought it welcome, typed and deleted. i’ve never offered my blood to anyone also gets the boot, on account of him closely befriending two vampires total. would you like to — proves pathetic, like this whole conversation was a lead.
i fear i’m not for drinking, left hanging for a long moment, what with the ichor. the rot in his veins grows ever crueller, an affliction that’s begun to advance again, without mystra to feed it. he should have brought that up, before all this resculpt nonsense began. he should ask astarion now, in fact. or call matt to beg off a trinket. instead, he settles on the rather disastrous, ]
Good to know 👍
I’ll keep you apprised of my whereabouts.
no subject
He can fix this. He can smooth the whole thing over, ensure that there's no one else who could occupy Gale's attention, make it clear what's his — make it clear he's not powerless any more. But he finds himself still at odds with the message in front of him, which accounts for the tonal shift of: ]
🙂
I'll think of you, my dear, until I see you again.
🎀
it’s a nice message, though. in theory. not at all the sort of thing astarion would have said before — but then this is all uncharted territory, isn’t it? it’s surely a good sign, if astarion has grown more overtly affectionate. ]
How lucky I am, to persist in your thoughts.
I’ll see you soon, Astarion.