Tʜᴇ Pᴀʟᴇ Eʟғ | Asᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ Aɴᴄᴜɴíɴ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
illithidnapped) wrote2022-02-03 01:54 am
illithidnapped) wrote2022-02-03 01:54 am
INBOX II
VOICE | ACTION | TEXT
[previous inbox]
VOICE | ACTION | TEXT
[previous inbox]
VOICE | ACTION | TEXT
[previous inbox]
VOICE | ACTION | TEXT
[previous inbox]
breaking this in
When he arrives, he'll find Emet-Selch's room more or less the same as usual, save for a couple of additions: a pair of wineglasses sit on his desk, but instead of a single bottle of wine, there are two. One unopened, and one clearly opened already, albeit still full.
"Well, there you are," he says by way of greeting, nudging Sol aside-- the cat meows in complaint, but hops down off the bed. "I would tell you to make yourself comfortable, but I've no doubt you need little encouragement."
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Well no, that actually is sort of thrilling in a dangerous, knife’s edge espionage sort of way.
But the point is there’d be complications. Not good ones, either. Not anything Astarion wants to welcome with open arms. Or Emet-Selch for that matter, either.
So.
Click goes the lock, off come his gloves, and—
“....are we...celebrating something?” Asked with a cocked head and an arched brow, a few pale fingers still curved around the dark leather of a disentangled glove.
Did the Ascian finally earn his freedom?
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crystal;
Hey. Do you have a second?
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[But then he realizes that tone isn’t exactly brimming with brightness, so:]
Is something wrong, darling?
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About a weeks time from their last conversation
Are you home?
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[He assumes it's impending anyway, presumptive thing that he is.]
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I'm doing just fine, my dear.
...well, fine as can be, considering the constant irritation we’ve faced as of late.
But braver souls are on the case, I think. At least I hope they are. [Never mind that, though.]
So that aside, what can I do for you, darling? Surely you didn’t call just to check in.
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2/2
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crystal.
Fenris,
[ said with the contemplative tone of a thinking man labeling the subject he is about to expand on, like freedom or the Empire, over too much wine. ]
Is his voice really like that? It’s not something he only does in public to sound bigger than he is.
[ Right? ]
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[The timing of this.... Bastien are you snooping?
No, of course he is, and you know what? Admirable. Misplaced, but admirable.]
What, you imagine he sounds differently in private? Gentler, perhaps?
[Amusing thought, actually.]
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1/??
2/??
3/3
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(crystal)
Well, then. I don't suppose you intended to make mention of that, at some point?
[his tone is about the same as it ever is: lightly amused, though astarion certainly knows by now that this is equally likely to be disguising any other tone he might take, versus something genuine.]
But I expect you ought to be offered congratulations of some sort, regardless.
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[Look, Astarion isn't the brightest spawn in the pack, but even with a wellspring of blind spots, matters like this don't land anywhere but squarely within his grasp. He's had two hundred years to figure it out, after all.
Though never from this perspective before.]
...you're upset.
[Hades' tone is impeccable— it's only his phrasing that tips Astarion off: the fact that he opts to hone in on congratulations and talk of outright discussion rather than simply taking notice with curious indifference.]
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crystal.
[ —is very friendly and casual for a first time interaction. ]
How's it going.
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Oh, just peachy, darling. [Light, airy.........absolutely not wonderful at all.]
But I'll be the first to admit I'm a little more interested in hearing how you're doing, what with two of yours out soliciting for volunteers— and using the absolute height of all professional grace and charm for it.
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2/2
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never be sorry he's perfect
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I wanna
a specific scent catches his interest, a good, strong whiff of something like dog–
so he changes direction, skidding, giving chase.
The person who owns the scent is a very tall man who smells like lavender most of all, and something oily, and something earthy, herbal, smoky- not food. Disappointing. Wags rushes him all the same, barely stopping when he reaches his legs to leap up in an enthusiastic greeting. Hi!
goodest boy hours
Look, it's been a long few...everything in Kirkwall lately, outside the well built walls of Hightown (and even then he's found he needs to be more careful, hold his head a little lower— carry something in his arms at all times: not a Rifter, not a thief, but a servant or messanger to unassuming eyes, and for the most part it works), so the sight of a mabari outright bounding towards him is enough to have him stiffening in bracing dread—
He's already reached for his dagger, but the beast isn't biting.
At his side, a wolf: fur dark as night itself appears from thin air, letting out a baying cry that mirrors Astarion's distress. A show of warning for anyone familiar with the yaps and yowls of pack animals.
A warning delivered after Astarion is already under snuffling, friendly siege.
...some guard dog.
"Off." He hisses, coiling like a nudged serpent— all of his posture shrinking as he tries to keep the bottle of wine (and a packet of something else, pristinely bundled in shining paper) held high against his chest.
"Off, shoo, you— oh, filthy beast!"
Ataashi, on the other hand, has seized an opportunity to stretch out her neck in order to catch a whiff of the puppy pawing at her owner.
She's very stealthy (she is not).
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crystal.
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Contentment, that is.]
Probably the first time I've ever been so pleased to be.
[And then, a touch slyer:]
Did you suspect it?
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Written;
How do vampires flirt?
By batting their eyes!
What's a vampire's favorite fruit?
Neck-tarines!
written in return, only this time it's in her sketch book;
how does one tell if they're sharing space with a member of the Chantry?
trust me, they'll make sure you know
what has two eyes, two hands, and is soon to be blind if it walks into the study between the hours of midnight and noon tomorrow?
y-o-u
no, really, stay out of the study unless you're in the mood to see a cockfight or two
love you darling, xoxo
-Astarion
sometime after decisions were made
Climbing is nearly out of the question, but the trellis filled with ivy is there, and Ellie grits her teeth through the ache of it and goes slow.
He's either out, or somewhere else in the house. Ellie drops the twine-tied load of firewood (a smaller haul than normal) next to the fireplace and kicks off her boots before she crosses the room to flop onto Astarion's bed.
It's probably shitty of her to be vaguely annoyed that he's not here right this minute, when she's the one with a lifetime's worth of things racked up to tell him, but she still shoves it down. Instead she lays her cheek on one of the pillows and falls asleep right there on the counterpane.
For the time being, the nightmares leave her be.
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But he doesn't need to look past the warm mess of dark fur to see why she's really here.
He can smell it on Ellie already. Salt, or— iron, possibly. Faint in hitting his nostrils, but present all the same. Readable aside from it, and even more so once he sees the outline of bruises on her skin.
Oh, darling....
Fearsome creature that she is, it doesn't matter whether she's been out fighting Venatori assassins or tavern brawlers: he ends up beside her with a pot of numbing salve and soft rag tucked in his grip (brand new, from the looks of it; part of a more recent push for renovation between Astarion and Fenris within the bounds of selfishly imposed isolation— Circles this, lyrium that, nightmares and old haunts and fresh fears— it was too much for a while), either waking her gently or not at all when he begins patiently tending to the marks etched across her skin.
Glaring at Ataashi when she snuffles in her sleep.
(He'd send her away if he wasn't certain she'd jostle the whole damned bed with one lumbering leap.)
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pre-raph but *not by much*
what
what is this
why was this drinking at the other tavern today
now imagines Leto scribbling this at the bar table tyvm
And a hat.
Probably.]
Was it dressed like this?
Looking especially dour?
So utterly soused it couldn't blink straight?
he ABSOLUTELY IS, staring in quiet horror
AU timeline where Raphael sways Leto for promising to get rid of all hollyphants
leto like hahaha no .............unless?
pride demon arc new speedrun any %
2/2
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[He'll get to the rest in a minute, but— ]
What do you mean 'again?'
Is she picking on you, that sweet old doll?
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1/2
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Because if so: hot.]
You are so precious, acting like you don't try to already. [One might imagine it's the vampire or the wolf in bed that's prone to being sharp between the sheets compared to one adolescent moon elf, but oh, they'd be so wrong.]
You're slow to wake up, dearest little catulus.
Why do you think I started using cucumbers in the first place?
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they're fighting again. over montressor's stick. fortunato won't stop gnawing on it.
ataashi is still annoyed with their existance. she continues to inform me as such each time they tussle too close to her spot by the fire.
they've made up in favor of trying to investigate the pants you wore yesterday. or play with it, i suspect— they keep trying to engage with it
you were not wrong: they beg for treats at least once an hour
ataashi speaks in an antivan accent
fortunato keeps attempting to imitate it
montressor is endlessly baffled by the sight of herself in a mirror. she keeps asking about it.
fortunato will not stop asking when you're coming home
wakes up to take meds and screams
my love i know you're sick. I know it's agony. I know you must, in all your endless energy, be feeling saddled by madness and impatience and I am nothing if not sympathetic.
I just also don't damned well care to know what those little creatures have to say.
because it's nothing.
they have nothing to say.
Look at them. They can barely process eating let alone breathing.
can't you find something else to tell me about? like
I don't know, what you're wearing? how much you long for me to return to ravish you as I should?
HEHEHE, 1/2
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1) Do you care for cats more than dogs?
2) Would you want a cat?
2a) Would you want it to be one of those furless pretentious ones that look like raw chicken that nobles favor here?
[A pause, and then:]
I have a present for you when I come home (not a cat, that is unrelated).
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1: you are drunk
2: you've been contemplating this for a while
(2a: no preference: all felines are acceptable companionship with or without fur)
3: it is a cat actually
1/2
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text;
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[Comes a long beat before a much more self aware:]
why?
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set during pre-toril thedas;
astarion
ASTARION are you awake
[The all-capital letters don't actually make the words leap off the page any louder, but still. It makes him feel better. It's also 1:30 in the morning, and Fenris should have long been asleep, but here we are.]
1/2
Four glasses of wine in with a local young merchant who can't stop himself from staring at sharp fangs, and already a handful of glancing touches spell out gold in Astarion's future, provided he commits to dazing the little darling long enough to dip into what's in those pockets.
....or....]
2/2
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post-Orlais mission
I'd like to hire your services. What are your prices?
[And, like, hi, and such.]
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Hire? Oh sweetheart, you don't need to hire me for that: we're comrades, aren't we? Packmates in war-targeted arms or whatever it is we're presently considered.
And if you just so happen to have something I might need in the future, well....
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pre-sibling break-in
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Now, having a little fun with subtle, wholly subconscious suggestion on the other hand is another thing entirely.
....why? Did you dream of me?
NEVER GOMEN, it is PERFECT
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guess who passed out sitting upright in the middle of typing this
NOOOO oh god and yet it's still a KILLER TAG
2/2