🔮 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]

[He hears that edge, and backs away from it; it's a dangerous precipice, and not one he wants to stick his nose too far into. Inquisitive as he is, he respects the value of privacy.]

Of course. Merely... making conversation.

[He falls silent, eyeing the flask Astarion has gone for and hoping it's a better distraction than his words.]

[sangwhine]

[Maybe you'll be so lucky, Gale. Astarion's spreading it between his hands before he starts to gently spread the oil across Gale's chest and arms.]

Perhaps some advice to consider when engaging with your mother, dredging up one's unpleasant memories makes for very poor conversation.

[mystracal]

[Oh, they're back on the chest. Gale turns his head, setting his gaze elsewhere so he doesn't have to look Astarion in the eye.]

I'll keep that in mind. I've not even thought of what I'm going to say to her. I have in the past, but my situation is far more complicated now than it was then.

[sangwhine]

[It's almost charming how shy Gale is about all of this, if Astarion lets himself think on it.

Hm.

He tries flicking a finger across one of Gale's nipples on the next pass, something that could easily be excused as a harmless accident.]

Well, if you're trying to keep her from worrying over you, I'd say it's best to avoid any mention of tadpoles or cults.

[mystracal]

[Gale stiffens in response, wondering just how much he can blame the water temperature for how red he's sure he is across his face. That had better have been a slip of your finger, Astarion.]

Tadpoles, cults, or the orb. Or what I've been doing for the past several years.

[sangwhine]

[Just a slip of the finger, of course. He notes that reaction, then reaches for a clean cloth, wetting it and wiping the oil from Gale's skin.]

It sounds to me like you might want to devise another story to sell her.

[mystracal]

[He might never admit it aloud, but to be doted on and cared for in this way feels... kind of nice. You know, when he's not reconsidering detonating the orb to save himself from all this embarrassment.]

I've been trying to think of one for days now. I'm not a natural-born liar.

[sangwhine]

Well, as your luck would have it, I am.

[Astarion is quite good at doting. Just don't think too deeply on where he got his practice in. But lucky for Gale he's done with the front now, moving to oil up his back.]

The first rule is to always leave as much of the truth in the lie as you can.

[mystracal]

[Oh thank the gods, he can go back to affixing his eyes on that book across the tent. And from the back, surely Astarion can't tell how mortified he is by this entire experience. Surely.]

I've done that so far, but there's only so long I can insist I'm traveling for my health before she starts to get suspicious.

[sangwhine]

I'm surprised she's believed you so far. No one travels the Chionthar for health.

[mystracal]

[He lets out a quiet sigh.]

Hence why I'll need to come up with a more substantial excuse. I'd rather not break her heart.

[sangwhine]

I'm sure you've done quite enough of that already.

[He reaches for a bucket, dipping it into the basin for some water before pouring it over Gale's back, it's time to rinse.]

If I may, the first thing you ought to do is come clean about the whole "health" angle. If she's a woman with half a mind, she already suspects it to be a fabrication, and your admission of guilt will make her more likely to believe what follows.

[mystracal]

I'm not going to tell my mother I'm a walking bomb.

[That came out more clipped than anticipated; he shakes his head, pushing a breath out through his nose as his fingers curl under the water, digging into his palms.]

[sangwhine]

[Well, who knew Gale was so sensitive about his orb problem. Astarion's more surprised than he'd like to admit, but he glosses over it in a moment with a heavy exhale.]

So tell her something else in its place, wizard. Admit that you've found some minorly cursed artefact, and you're trying to unravel its secrets. That's practically true in its entirety.

[mystracal]

[He gives the barest nod. That is at least some semblance of the truth, save for the 'minorly cursed' part.]

And as to why I've not been home in years?

[sangwhine]

A recent fascination with Netherese magic. Or some other obscure school of wizardry. If she's your mother, she ought to know how insufferably distractable you are when you've found something to fixate on.

The obsession led you to the artefact, the artefact to the curse, and now you're off with a merry little band of adventurers to unravel the whole thing in the name of knowledge and power. Simple.

[mystracal]

[Gale sighs quietly, guilt lacing his features; his eyes land on his hands in the water.]

She's going to press on that, and I doubt my resolve with hold. She knows how I can be, yes, but that's all the more reason she can see right through me. It's not easy, lying to someone who knows you better than almost anyone.

[sangwhine]

[Astarion sure doesn't know what that's like. His lies were always either for the benefit of someone he'd never see again or as a token resistance against someone who could rip the truth from him whenever he wanted. But it doesn't do well to have Gale so overworked like this. He's hardly useful to them when he's moping.]

If she presses, just distract her with the stories of our exploits. Infiltrating a goblin camp, resolving political tensions in a druid's grove. We've been seeking answers to a problem this whole time, all that you need to do is change the nature of the problem that we face.

[mystracal]

[He nods again, seemingly taking Astarion's advice to heart. He just needs to reframe their circumstances is all. He's a terrible liar, but fairly practiced at avoiding the truth, dancing around it with a selective exclusion of certain facts that would complete the picture.]

A worthwhile suggestion, honestly.

[He glances Astarion's way, letting his eyes land on the spawn for only a moment before casting them away again.]

Thank you.

[sangwhine]

Oh, don't thank me, darling. Not yet, at least.

[Hey, Gale, you know that dirty hair of yours? Astarion's dumping a bucket of water over it now.]

[mystracal]

[Yep, maybe he thanked Astarion too soon. His hair falls right into his face with the weight of the water, making the Wizard of Waterdeep look more like a bedraggled cat. His face screws into a grimace.]

Right. I'll save that for after this is all over.

[sangwhine]

That's right. No need to be premature about these things.

[Maybe Astarion shouldn't sound so cheerful about making Gale look like a pathetic, wet animal. But he can't help himself. He reaches for the oil again, spreading a little on his hands before starting to work it through Gale's hair.]

[mystracal]

[He heard that.]

You sound like you're having a better time with this than I am.

[Loathe as he is to admit it, this part actually feels... pretty good. Relaxing in a way he didn't anticipate.]

[sangwhine]

[He is enjoying himself, it's true. Oddly, it feels better than his usual seductions, the instincts he's been leaning on where he can with their party's fearless leader. But even if Gale's been a little skittish about his advances in that direction so far, drawing attention to it like this gives him a chance, doesn't it? And he could always use some more protection...]

Honestly, I'm surprised you aren't enjoying it more. I've been told that my touch can feel quite pleasurable.

[mystracal]

I'm sure it can be, when experienced in less embarrassing and more... intimate circumstances. With the right people, of course.

[Needless to say, Mystra didn't do romantic baths.]