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✏️ LMFAOFAOSFAOFAOFOAFAOFSOASFDOIDSGISDSSDIH YEAH HALSIN LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO
" a good friend. lovely companion! i hope he is able to prevail whatever ails him- unless what keeps such sour face on his visage is indigestion. then, please let me know. i've a few herbs on my string that may benefit your digestinal tract— "
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* 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐖𝐍 liked for a starter. / astarion & nesta.
" there you are, " her tone finds his ears late at night - this is the hour of the witch, the hour of the haunt, and it is simply the architect of the all-consuming black's plan for rebirth and the night's feral unforgotten child that witness it. nesta's turn for watch has come, and she always takes the longest, despite being the person who needs the most sleep. ( well, save for gale, but being the only wizard means he gets priority on a full eight hours of self-described beauty sleep. ) " i didn't even notice you snuck out. but then again, that's your whole thing, isn't it? moving around undetected? "
a chuckle. she sounds like a poorly-maintained music box when she laughs. " no one has ever gotten a knife on me. i have to give you kudos where it's due. if i might ask, where did you sneak off to so late? "
“ You lack the skills. ” 😁 ♥️ - @firstspawn
the look that cuts across the campfire could bleed someone if she tried hard enough. tension in her jaw. horned head tilted. brow twisted. and what makes it worse is that she knows - oh she KNOWS - it's what astarion wanted. to needle beneath her skin with a few choice words. was it all in good fun ?? who knows anymore. the tiefling huffs the pressure in her chest out. it does little to help but it's better than throwing her ale-filled mug across the flames. gods know she needs it. " there's nothing a well placed fist to the jaw can't solve that a dagger could. " knocking them out had , over the years , proved to her just as useful as slitting ones throat. " and it gives us options. "
options they didn't have anymore now that the goblin was dead. they'd foregone any ally to walk into the camp tomorrow with. even worse , she didn't have any chance to gather intel. if there'd been anything she had taken away from the brotherhood it was to drain as much info from your targets as you could. in whatever blood-soaked way you had to. it saved you the heartache later. ( a hand reaches up to her , charred fingers barely holding to the ornate dagger , skin peeling back to make way for exposed bone. ) crimson tail flicks behind her , shaking the memory away. the dagger that seemed to be the topic of choice tonight shines in the flames , UNUSED since the day given to her. " if skill is on the table tonight, though , i'd love to chat about those shots you missed on the gnolls. big targets hardly allow any excuse. " there's finally a twist to scarred lips. " we can practice a little in the morning if you're feeling rusty. "
"You know, in a way, I think that vampires are also the children of my Lady of Silver." Rhys has been considering Astarion's confession for some time now. He questions whether the protection of his own goddess shouldn't also apply to vampires, even though priests and vampires typically don't get along. If her blessing is available to virtuous werewolves, then vampires ought to also benefit from it. Even though he may be ignorant, he doesn't think that all vampires are inherently malevolent. He would like to think that all of them, including Astarion, are products of their environment.
"The night is your domain, therefore I believe you deserve to receive the moon's blessing." Rhys knows in his heart that he has never been successful at communicating his ideas, despite his best efforts to defend his position. He looks back at the campfire and a sheepish smile curls up the corner of his mouth. Even though he had made a mistake again, it felt appropriate to share his opinions with the rogue at that particular moment. "Sorry ---- I don't want to trouble you with my foolish thoughts."
@firstspawn liked for a starter.*
stares at you with my big wet eyes.
` " aww, buddy! what do you need? what can I get you? a hug? a snack? the decapitated heads of your enemies? "
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"DOES YOUR GOD HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO OFFER YOU." oh he's absolutely talking about mystra :/ ↳ magic worlds prompts ( accepting ) / @firstspawn
IT BOTHERS HIM, but not as much as it could. Not as much as it should, really — but he jerks his chin up, a flash of something stubborn in his eye. ❝ She’s offered me plenty. She’s given me more than I could describe in so many lifetimes. Beautiful things. Wondrous things. Power beyond my imagining. Losing it was my own—— ❞
A waver. A wobble. Just barely, scarcely, but it’s enough for his gaze to drop to his splayed hands; slowly, his fingers curl closed. He looks —— indecisive, that raw bite of something terrified chewing at his heels, but he’s working so very hard to keep all of it at bay, to keep it hidden, to keep moving forward. He's starting to choke on his own optimism.
He smiles, then — a small thing, a sad thing, but it swiftly grows as he meets Astarion’s eye. ❝ Her silence for these years was because of my own damned hubris. And now she offers me a chance to redeem everything I’ve done wrong. Forgiveness. What more could she offer me? The gods and goddesses aren’t known for their talents in bargaining. ❞
@firstspawn
a gloved hand is risen to wipe sweat from her brow as meredith sheathes her sword and looks over the field of dead that now occupies the road. cultists. of course. these ones hers instead of this new group of adventurers, distinguishable by multicolored threads throughout their dark cloaks and the claw-like bracers upon their hands. meredith kneels by one of the fallen cultists of the dragon and closes their eyes before her hands begin the routine action of checking pockets.
"they usually have a missive on them," she says, voice flat and even. there is no joy in taking these lives, even if they want hers ended, "i need to know where they are looking next."
SHE HAD WOKEN UP FROM A STRANGE, FANTASICAL DREAM and now was settled by the fire. The tendrils of the dream had her skin prickling still as if its remnants remained fast held to her. She didn't mind it if she was being honest; it seemed more and more her dreams made more sense than when she was awake, and that was becoming concerning.
Her thoughts shifted then, the parasite humming within her mind as it recognized another of its kind. Emerald hues shifted and Lark found herself taking in the visage of one of her companions, Astarion. " Good evening, Astarion. " She greeted as she often did when their paths crossed at camp. Slowly canting her head to the side, she blinked her gaze at him. " Just returning from a hunt? " she asked before shifting a bit to make room around the campfire.
@firstspawn liked for a starter
