#clearwinged

over the decades, astarion has become quite skilled at anticipating what a person wants to hear. wyll in this moment in particular isn't a mystery to him. a raw part of him prickles at how glum wyll has been lately all because he's sprouting a pair of infernal horns when astarion has been a monster much longer than that. but it's fresh and wyll's having trouble processing it, he does understand. astarion sighs. "a man, wyll. a sweet foolish one, at that, and my answer would be the same regardless of whether or not you were donning those infernal ornaments of yours. a rather dashing look, i'd say. and the people of the swords coast will see that in time," astarion reassures, handing him a bottle of arabellan dry. if he's going to mope about by the lakefront all by his lonesome, he might as well drown his sorrows while he's at it.

"now, are you done being an utter drip, or do you need more consolatory sense knocked into you? i'm not really the hero type, but we did something, well, heroic. so maybe celebrating isn't out of the question," he muses, shrugging his shoulders with a sly grin. as selfish as it was, astarion didn't want wyll to sulk out here all by himself because who knew when they'd have another opportunity to celebrate anything? even if it was just rescuing a bunch of snot-nosed tiefling thieves and refugees from the certain death of another goblin attack. they had a long journey ahead of them, made no less treacherous or easier after bouts of self-pity and brooding. astarion's been doing a bit of that himself.

father theodore was perhaps one of the most open-minded and tolerant amongst church parish, choosing to believe that rather than bible thumping fire and brimstone preaching, with patience and acceptance -- those who need guidance and want to nurture their relationship with God will do so. his patience and faith is rewarded when teddy spots an unfamiliar face making their way through the church pews. the father blinks, studying the new face with intensity. "i haven't seen you around here before, have i? i'm afraid service just ended. is there something troubling you?" he asks, head tilting curiously to the side with interest as he folds his arms across his chest, waiting for a response. "whether you're a member of our church matters little, i'm more than willing to listen if there is," father teddy reassures him.

it's a rare night out for dylan. in the company of his friend from college nishanth -- affectionately dubbed 'nish', at least. they were out celebrating nish's work bonus at some skeavy divebar, which suited dylan's tastes just fine and he'd jumped at the chance to get some face time with his old friend. "so, what's the deal? you told me about what's going on at work, but you seem," dylan furrows his brows, hands gesturing nonchalantly, trusting nish to know what he means.

maybe if they ordered another round, nish would stop beating around the bush and have enough truth serum flowing through his system to say whatever he was holding back from dylan. he gnaws at his bottom lip, raising two fingers to summon the bartender back over to order some more moscow mules. "on edge? you should cut loose, nish. tonight, we're celebrating," he tells him with a grin, giving his friend's shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "ain't we?" dylan doesn't mean to create tension but when he meets nish's dark eyes, his stomach does a weird flip in anticipation.

His voice is crystal clear in her mind, his words sharp enough to yank her out of the daze. Maren couldn’t even remember getting this far. Last she knew, she’d been passed out in front of the fireplace with a book in hand. Now, though, all she could smell was blood and all she could see was Evan’s face.

“No,” She tries before giving in. “Yes. Maybe? I think I’m okay, though.” Maren held out her arms to examine herself. The splatter of blood on her cheek wasn’t too concerning in the grand scheme of things, but Maren knew it wasn’t a good look. A part of her was relieved to find that there weren’t any obvious problems on her body. No broken bones that she could see or gaping wounds of any kind. No pain at all, really. But that didn’t do much to calm her down when she knew it could only mean one thing.

( source ! )

it was more than a fair question, especially since he was trying and failing to nap by the dessert table. when he does manage to lift his weary head to make eye contact with the other tom, he manages a shake of his head. "good question. i can't remember." tom scrubs a hand over his face, peaking at hobbes through the fingers of his palm. his looming divorce, as well as impending job termination, not to mention the fact that they just reinstated the third reich? things had been a lot. the fucking doormen at the hotel had memorized his routine and face, but going home for genuine rest wasn't a viable option. tom was right back where he was before, the wrong drugs in the wrong order. he'd been balancing out the nose candy with benzos, just so he could stay on his feet and functioning. it didn't seem to be working. "do i look that ghoulish, hobbes? be honest. don't worry about sparing my feelings," he jibes, straightening up in his seat in attempt not to slouch over the table setting.

"you in here looking for trouble?" erik asked, a brow arched conflicting with the cheeky smirk on his lips. he didn't actually work at the good company. in fact, he'd never worked at the good company a day in his life. he had dropped by to hand the cash from the auto shop but darius was busy arguing with his girlfriend out back. he was just going to grab himself a drink when his attention was snatched by the other man.

rhea didn't get to meet people, not really, not in the way that most other people got to meet people. out in the real world, naturally and almost kismet. rhea met people at charity events and at work, award shows and premiers. she met people through the people she worked with and nothing ever felt organic. this felt organic though, right off the bat, as soon as june introduced themself, rhea felt that organic thing she'd been chasing. "no, really, if you read all the things they've said about me, you'd think i am the worst. hell, if i didn't know me and just went by headlines, i'd steer clear of myself."