My quite different rendition of the Bite Nite™ and beyond it, because you have to respect the classics. Or rather steal one wheel off its car and run away with it, and let the disaster feline gremlin actually deal with the consequences of his bite-y actions. As in what to do when you, as newly outed vampire, accidentally have slurped dry the one person in camp willing to help in spite of everything? (2/6 chapters published, 8k words thus far)
[...] “I didn’t…don’t want to hurt you. I am just… so hungry, but I’m too weak to hunt.” Blinking, his eyebrows shot up and Astarion was frantic to elaborate, to correct himself. “I mean… I haven’t killed anyone, if that’s what you are thinking.“ A scoff, laced with bitterness for reasons unknown. “Not for food, anyhow. I feed on animals instead. Rabbits, deer, boars, whatever I can find.”
“I know.” His head snapped up at her due to the admission, and Inara snorted in return. Well, he hadn’t been exactly subtle in sneaking out of camp either. The only question remained as to why? Why hadn’t Astarion killed them all in their sleep in the past five nights and drained them dry already? Why was he going through the trouble to leave camp in secret and hunt animals for blood, risking detection each time? Something wasn’t adding up. This vampire in front of her… wasn’t exactly vampire-ing. Not according to the books she’d studied, anyhow.
The vampires in there were described as inherently evil, twisted creatures. As unfeeling, very manipulative and cunning. And without a soul, ever-hungry for blood, possessions and power, too. Whereas… Astarion, well, was more of an annoying runt, a lost stray pretending to be a roaring manticore. His ego and snobbishness was, anyhow. Not exactly—
His chuckle tore into the momentarily silence between them. “Well, I have indeed underestimated you then.” He mock-bowed his head. “My apologies.”
And a little shit, to boot. [...]
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