illithidnapped: (45)
Tʜᴇ Pᴀʟᴇ Eʟғ | Asᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ Aɴᴄᴜɴíɴ ([personal profile] illithidnapped) wrote2022-02-03 01:54 am

INBOX II




VOICE | ACTION | TEXT

[previous inbox]
doggish: and certainly don't send it in a sext (awkward ⚔ please stop saying moist)

[personal profile] doggish 2024-01-06 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh, they're doing this now . . . and yet Leto can't say he regrets it, not when it means he can hear Astarion's voice. Even if it is angry with him.]

I was vague on the specifics. I meant more to imply you were a bounty hunter, but . . . er.

[Ah.]

In retrospect, I may have accidentally given more of the impression of a grave-robber.

[He works at night. He works with his hands. It's contract work. Assassin, gentleman thief, vagabond, gravedigger— the lattermost seemed the most innocuous, and thus when Folwin had suggested it, Leto had leapt upon it with gratitude. That one, yes, the one least likely to draw any kind of attention, and also incidentally make enough money that their frequent purchases from the sex shop won't raise an eyebrow.]
doggish: (it's keeping me awake)

[personal profile] doggish 2024-01-07 05:33 am (UTC)(link)
[Oh, that's so much yelling. That's so much yelling, and Leto dutifully listens to it word by word, his ears flicking down as he waits for it to ebb. Astarion's angry, but he's not Angry, and Leto can endure until it ebbs out. Besides: it's not entirely undeserved, not really. There are worse professions he could have stated, but not many.

But then there's that little pause, and—

. . . oh.]


Er.

It may be.

[. . .]

They— I do not think they dislike you. But they have never met you, and know only that you are centuries older than I am and have a propensity for fucking me for hours and hours at a time. I think they sometimes imagine something far . . .

[Unseen, he waves a hand in the air, trying to gesture at his own thoughts.]

baser than what we are.
doggish: i GUESS (awkward ⚔ ahhhh i feel bad)

[personal profile] doggish 2024-01-08 01:00 am (UTC)(link)
[Ah.

It's not as if they never annoy one another. Most certainly they do, little habits and larger ones, and they've had more than a few little spats. But it's one thing to squabble over habits or who was meant to take the pups out before they wet themselves; it's another to hear Astarion so genuinely annoyed by something that Leto could have easily prevented.

He's not guilty. Not yet, anyway. But there's a tendril of something like it curling low in the pit of his stomach; unseen, his ears flick down.]


Are you truly angry about this?
doggish: stop saying quief like it means quilt thief, it clearly doesn't (shock ⚔ it's the quief!)

[personal profile] doggish 2024-01-08 07:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[There's a little noise when Astarion first lists out that snarling little summation. It's a quiet noise, bitten back and easily missed; it's a noise that means he'd almost just said well, that is not wholly inaccurate, a wry little smirk on his face. But ah, ah, he knows better: such jokes will only infuriate Astarion further right now, and he's in enoguh trouble as it is.

But hang on, hang on—]


Trust I will tell you everything in a moment. But which are you angry about, exactly? That they think of you that way . . . or they might think of me in such a fashion?
doggish: what a savings (shock ⚔ by grabthar’s hammer)

[personal profile] doggish 2024-01-09 02:20 am (UTC)(link)
[Oh. Oh, and suddenly, everything turns on its axis. The steady sound of footsteps these past few minutes suddenly ceases, Leto gone silent for a few minutes as he absorbs all that.

Then, quietly and yet firmly:]


You are not sleazy. And you have never been predatory— not to me.

[Because they're not talking about his eating habits. And it matters to Leto very much that Astarion does not think of himself that way. He knows who he is. He knows what he is, too, and he will not deny those aspects. But nor will he stand for this slander of self.

(And now, ironically enough, he does understand Astarion's fuss).]


I think . . . truly, Astarion, I think they do not know what to make of either of us. I tell them stories of my past, and they do believe me, but they cannot make sense of how I have accomplished so much so quickly. I boast of you, telling them of adventures from Thedas, and I do not know how they reconcile the two. Perhaps they don't. Or perhaps they simply accept it.

[Rowdy as they all are, eternally focused more on the future than the past, he doubts they do anything save accept it and move on.

But this isn't really about them. And it takes Leto a few moments, but then:]


I did not know you were . . . that my reputation concerned you so much.

[No, that's not it, and he makes a noise, waving that away.]

I have never . . . no one has ever thought about it overmuch, myself included. I have always assumed people will think of me what they will, and if it is negative, so be it. And I did not realize . . .

[Mph.]

. . . sometimes this place, these people . . . it doesn't feel real. As if it is all pretend, and some of it is. And I forget that I am not myself. I forget that these things linger.

[It isn't that he set out to paint himself as some cheap whore of a gravedigging thug; it's just that none of it feels real, and he does not think about the implications when he is with his friends. But that's hard to say, and harder still to know if it comes across how he means.]

. . . it means a great deal to me that you are concerned with it.

And I understand now why you are . . . for I do not like the thought of you thinking of yourself so disparagingly.
doggish: no no let's do this (talk ⚔ ah we're talking about emotions)

[personal profile] doggish 2024-01-10 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
[A world-transcending god-killer, and you know, it's true, but it's still strange to hear. Stranger still to apply it to himself— or perhaps strange to apply it to himself while he lives in this world, where gods and their ilk are so much more common than in Thedas. It makes it more awe-inspiring, strangely enough. Corypheus . . . Corypheus was not unlike a god, and indeed in many ways was a god, but to Leto, it always felt like . . . well. A job. An exceedingly difficult job, admittedly, and a job he'd done as a favor to his friend, but still: a job, and one he would either succeed at or fail and die.

Or maybe it's not about Corypheus at all. Maybe it's that Leto's gotten so used to Astarion being the more remarkable one that he forgets the more unbelievable aspects of his own life.]


. . . . I thought about it.

[Yes, he had. Over and over, when it was late and the conversations grew more intimate . . . yes, he had wanted to. But . . .]

. . . I think they would understand, or at least try to. They are a loyal group, for all that they are immature, and I think ultimately that loyalty would win out no matter what. But . . .

I will not risk you. I have learned again and again that I am not familiar with all the intricacies and social norms of this world, and I will not risk my having missed some vital clue that might lead to disaster in any form. And . . .

[Mmph. Emotional honesty is difficult, even between them. Perhaps especially between them.]

I suppose . . . I have found it easier to enjoy their company when it is not me they know, either. I am not dishonest as a rule, but . . . as far as they know, I am merely a particularly well-traveled elf who can handle a blade and enjoys strange tattoos. I am not an ex-slave, or a god-killer, or friends with the Champion of Kirkwall. And I . . .

I suppose a part of me did not want to tell them, for fear it would make the inevitable loss of them all the harder.

[He can't do it again. He can't give himself away to a group of friends just to watch them disappear; it hurt too badly the last time. No matter that it would be vastly different now, still. Some part of Leto will always bear those scars, recoiling at the thought of true friendship for fear of how he will inevitably lose it.]

I know it would be different than— than Kirkwall. That they are not Anders, and the stakes are far different. Even the emotions are, for those bonds took nearly a decade to cultivate, and even if I had been honest with this group, it still wouldn't be the same. But I still . . .

[He can't bear it.]

I did not want to risk you. But I suppose, selfishly, I did not want to risk myself, either.

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