🔮 exsanguinated (with @sangwhine)

[mystracal]

tfln | invitations | and there was only one bed | undermountain alurlyath | what could be | blood bond | the price of freedom
it wore his face | dinner with morena dekarios | rediscovery

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[mystracal]

[His eyes flick to Astarion's face, having little elsewhere to go when he's so close.]

I see.

[He falls silent, deciding that, rather than prodding, he'll leave room for Astarion to continue speaking on the subject if he wishes to.]

[sangwhine]

[Astarion does continue, not looking too closely at what compels him to keep talking. If he can garner sympathy from Gale maybe it will lure him in. His gaze is fixed on his hands, tracing against Gale's chin, under his lips.]

I was one of the first. So I was responsible for tending to many of them after they turned. Yet despite that all, I was rarely the favorite.

[mystracal]

[Gale keeps his expression impassive, but is privately pleased. So far, so good.]

I can't imagine what being the favorite of a vampire lord would even entail.

[sangwhine]

Oh, he loved to spoil his favorites. Fine chambers, finer clothes, privacy. Fresher rats. A promise that you wouldn't have to face the lash.

[He pauses his touch, his palms pressed against Gale's jawline, lips framed by his thumbs.]

[mystracal]

[Rats, yes. Astarion has mentioned them before, and an idle thought Gale has had a few times slips before he can reel it in.]

Had you never fed off people before? Before- um.

[He raises an eyebrow, noticing Astarion's pause, and wonders if he should back off. Not everyone is so eager to speak of their trauma, no matter how curious he may be.]

[sangwhine]

Mmh?

[Astarion's gaze flicks up to meet Gale's, before he gives a thin smile. his hands move back so his thumbs follow the line of his jaw, his fingers cupping the back of his neck.]

No, not before I met our mutual companion. They were my first.

[mystracal]

Ah.

[Good. Astarion didn't seem to take offense to that question, and Gale is slowly discovering just how far he can press with his queries while unraveling what makes the vampire as prickly as he is. Proverbial arrow dodged.

... So why does he feel so tense? Gale shifts his shoulders just a hair. Unable to keep that eye contact, he finally lets his gaze trail from Astarion's face to somewhere on his periphery.]

I suppose there are benefits aside from taste, when drinking from people?

[sangwhine]

[Surely the proximity of Astarion's face has nothing to do with that tension. His fingertips trace lightly against the nape of Gale's neck before he pulls them away, wiping the oil from his hands.]

The taste is preferable by far, but it's also far more invigorating. Like a spark against your skin, your heart racing.

[mystracal]

[Astarion's fingers along Gale's neck make the hairs on the back of it stand on end; try as he might to control his breathing and tone, there's only so much composure Gale can fake as his body reacts, the tops of his ears reddening.]

I wonder if there is a quality in the blood of people that causes that as opposed to that of animals, or if it's simply another quirk of being a vampire. I'd provide no sustenance either way, I suppose.

[sangwhine]

No, you did say your blood would be quite foul.

[He finishes wiping his hands and reaches for a clean cloth, wetting it from a ewer of water.]

Though it did make me wonder just how you knew such a thing.

[mystracal]

[It's Gale's turn to pause as he decides just how much he wants to talk about himself. It's a fantastic topic when it's in a flattering light - otherwise, not so much.]

When I realized the orb was having... adverse effects on my body, I took it upon myself to do some testing. To find out exactly what was happening to my physically as opposed to magically.

[sangwhine]

Ah, so you tested your blood.

[He reaches back to hold Gale's chin in his hand as he wipes away the excess oil on his beard.]

[mystracal]

[He holds still while Astarion works, well distracted by conversation. He prefers it to the silence.]

It seemed as good a starting place as any. It was easy enough to figure out that it was tainted with necrotic energy. What to do about it was the real problem I ended up facing.

[sangwhine]

I must confess I'm not at all familiar with how a little thing like this—[he taps Gale's chest, roughly over where the orb is.]—can seep into one's blood.

[mystracal]

Magic doesn't just seep into the bloodstream like a poison, Astarion. It doesn't travel through the veins or organs of the body.

[He rubs where Astarion prodded him absentmindedly, his expression faltering.]

When this orb became a part of me, it- [hesitation, the span of a heartbeat] it first severed my connection with the Weave. Devoured it, and most of what command I had over it. It tainted my very aura.

[sangwhine]

For someone who has little to do with the Weave that all sounds rather dramatic.

[He brushes a thumb across Gale's cheek, a soothing gesture, clearly nothing to do with tending his beard]

[mystracal]

As someone whose entire life revolves around the Weave, to say it was dramatic is putting it lightly. I've been able to command it since before I could talk, and suddenly, it was... gone.

[Gale almost misses the gesture; he's wrapped up in memories of the feelings he had at the time, almost all of which have been largely unresolved. They were only the start of his problems.]

[sangwhine]

Your body was transformed. The way that you had known yourself was changed forever.

[His touch lingers. For a moment he sees himself in Gale, and it startles him.]

[mystracal]

[Gale opens his mouth to say something, but finds himself at a loss for words when his eyes finally return to Astarion's face; he recognizes the hint of understanding that crosses the vampire's pale features, subtle and barely perceptible, and only then notices that lingering touch to his cheek.

He doesn't pull away, but his eyes set themselves somewhere on the floor behind Astarion, shame lacing into his brow.]

I suppose it was.

[sangwhine]

[He doesn't move his hand, his thumb lightly brushing over Gale's cheek. His voice drops quieter, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.]

I suppose I can understand how that feels.

[mystracal]

[The barest smile tugs at Gale's mouth, one born of sobering - but sincere - camaraderie. A beat passes; he allows himself to linger in it for a moment longer.]

It's not- the same, of course. What happened to you is a tragedy, while what happened to me, I did to myself. Poisoned by my own hubris, devoured from the inside by a desire to prove myself a goddess' equal.

[sangwhine]

No, not the same. But a similar sort of hurt.

[Finally, he releases Gale with a soft sigh, glancing away. It's a dangerous thing, letting Gale see this much of him, know this much of him. There's nothing seductive in knowing that he's broken.]

[mystracal]

[There may be nothing seductive about Astarion's vulnerability to someone only after good looks and an even better lay, but to Gale, it's beyond intriguing - it's compelling. Their group thus far has been relatively sympathetic regarding his condition - they provided him artefacts to keep the orb stabilized, and upon finally reaching the Heart of the Absolute, insisted he was worth more alive than dead, that obliterating himself wasn't the answer.

In truth, his ultimate fate with the netherese magic buried in his chest is more than just the inevitable explosion: there's also what it did to him upon entering his body, what it continues to do the longer it remains. The tendrils from the mark on his chest didn't used to trail all the way up to his eye.

His eyes trail back to Astarion's hands as they leave him; he wants to reach out in some way, but isn't sure how.]

How do you manage it? That hurt.

[sangwhine]

[He gives a short laugh, forced and flippant.]

Well, I was kidnapped by mindflayers and infected with one of their parasites.

[He's trying to deflect, certainly. But at the heart of it, it's true. The parasite has given him the ability to do so many things that he couldn't before.]

[mystracal]

[That was glib enough to make Gale's brow knit, but he sees the deflection for what it is.]

It was a genuine question, Astarion. I've not tested my blood since infection, but as far as I know, the parasites have done nothing for me in regards to the orb, save for posing a new threat that could cause its sudden and terrible detonation at any given moment.