[OPEN] Young Blood, say you want me out of your life

[illithidnapped]

WHO: Astarion and, gasp, maybe you
WHAT: catch-all for Kirkwall mayhem involving a certain vampire
WHEN: ~whenever~ pick your poison
WHERE: Gallows, Kirkwall proper, anywhere you want
NOTES: 1 intolerable vampire pretending he doesn't give a damn

I: CHARITY

He keeps odd hours, that’s the nature of being a nocturnal monster designed to feed on the blood of his prey— or, well, former monster, as luck would have it. He certainly isn’t turning to ash each time the sun rises, and he isn’t burning to death every time he sinks into a nice, hot, afternoon bath. Food, even, that’s a new luxury too, though he isn’t entirely fond of what the Gallows serves on the regular: his taste runs a touch finer, as a habit— which might be why one passing trip through the market sees an arm slung sweetly around your own for a cheerful bout of unprompted conversation at Astarion’s mercy.

It’s quick, takes barely more than a few moments of lingering closeness, and then—

And then nothing. He’s gone as quickly as he came. Wait— do your pockets feel noticeably lighter?

Pursuit would only find him sometime later, slung casually across a table in some smoky little hole in the wall: drinking a glass of vivid red, eating a very lovely meal and chatting up someone with cheekbones so sharp they could open envelopes via proximity alone.

And he probably paid for all of it with your coin. Oh dear.

II: VICE CITY

“Aha, no, wrong again, darling— that win belongs to me.”

He’s learned the rules quickly. He’s learned everything, quickly, in fact, winking slyly as he rakes a meager mess of coins and knickknacks across the table towards him. Hardly a vivid sum, but enough that the brute opposite to him growls something unintelligible— veering away as the chair they’d been occupying topples right to the floor, the noise of it snapping right through an otherwise pleasant scene.

“Well.” Astarion scoffs, silvered brows raising.  “Talk about a sore loser.”

He’d only cheated a little, besides. Still, red eyes snap to, the edges of his lips curling into an easy smile, gesturing with slender fingers towards the now-emptied seat across.

“Your turn, dearest.”

III: A VAMPIRE STILL

He haunts dark spaces in later hours. Bright eyes in shadow, attentive without exhaustion. The Gallows is bustling in daylight, and near silent without, and he prowls like a cat in the gaps between lanterns, searching for something nameless and shapeless.

Perhaps out of sight until the very last, unsettling second when pale features seem to cut through pitch-soaked corners.

Try not to shriek, if you stumble into his path, won’t you? It is late, after all, and he doesn't fancy a headache.

IV: WILDCARD

[ooc: pick your poison, swap one of the prompts around, opt for daylight and cheerful drinking— the sky's the limit. Astarion can even be caught doing a little studious reading in closed-off spaces, though don't expect him to take kindly to being noticed.

Also I'll match tagging format to whatever suits you, and/or hit me up if you want something else plotwise entirely!]

Comments

[illithidnapped]

"Particular? Not yet."

He takes to that invitation like a duck to— well, water, of course: all too happy to steal first use of what she'd spent so long setting up for herself, peering through it with one eye closed to get his bearings in that first, initial pass.

"The night is young, after all. I've plenty of time to find a suitable target, and— you don't mind, do you? If I borrow this for a little while, I mean. Your stars aren't going anywhere till sunrise."

[notathreat]

"For a while," Ellie concedes, grumpily, though she does make room for him to take a look through the lens. Nice to see him (presumably) genuinely excited about something that isn't getting into trouble.

Gross, when did she become responsible?

"But I have it on loan from somebody else, so don't go swiping it."

Sticking her hands into her pockets, she looks across the harbor at the lights of Hightown, the very distant murmur of the city life lost among the crash of the waves far below.

"What makes a good target, huh?"

[illithidnapped]

“I’ll do my best not to fly off with it.”

A few twists of the knob, a little correction, and he’s honing in on tall buildings against a starry backdrop.

“First, look for anyone that’s awake at this hour.” said as he lifts his head for a brief moment, carefully studying the differences between what he sees within the eyepiece itself, and what lays sprawling before them. Head ducked back down a beat later, smiling faintly to himself as he hones in on an undrawn window, bright as the sun at midday in comparison to the architecture that surrounds it.

“Much like ourselves, few who stay up late are up to any amount of good.”

[notathreat]

"You'd have to be a really big bat to carry this heavy fucker," Ellie mutters, following the eyeline of the scope to try to see what he's looking at.

She's got good distance vision, even if it's not up to what he'll be able to see, but everything across the harbor seems like darkness dotted with fireflies and vague shapes.

"... yeah, I can agree with that."

Looking back on her own youth, she was rarely up to anything within the rules when she broke curfew or snuck out. It was different now that she was an adult, but perhaps that was simply because there were fewer rules to break.

"Somehow I don't think they're doing anything too crazy over there. Just a bunch of weird affairs."

[illithidnapped]

"Ahah, that, my dear, is quite the point." spoken as he leaves his focus wholly on whatever it is he's taking in, clearly committing himself to taking internal notes without pretense or poise— and then, after a moment or two, he pulls back with an easy smile, gesturing for her to take back the device as she likes.

"There's a kind of power in knowing who is consorting with whom, and at what hour. Better still if we ever need a favor, or an appeal, or a little local support."

He steps away, lounging instead across an abandoned crate, languid.

"But I've quite finished for now. Map all the spots you like."

[notathreat]

Ellie wrinkles her nose at the idea, shaking her head.

"I'm gonna leave blackmailing the nobility to you, and stick with stabbing things," she says, half-joking, and reaches for the device-

But he'll notice that she takes a long moment to try to see what he was focusing the lens on, first.

"... but did you see anything good?"

[illithidnapped]

"My dear girl, how utterly inappropriate of you, asking a gentleman to part with such information." said wickedly as he lifts his chin, watching her only peripherally as an index finger pins a single clasp between it and his thumb, judgmental in openly feigned measures.

"I'm not even certain I should be telling you something so scandalous."

Why yes, Ellie. He did find something good.

[notathreat]

"Don't make me kick you," she threatens ineffectually from behind the eyepiece, wiggling it around somewhat to get it to focus on various lights, windows- and then on the darkness in between. Her eyes aren't quite as good as his.

Still nothing. Ellie lifts her head and gives him a look that says she knows that he wants to tell her.

[illithidnapped]

He reaches aside, tipping the telescope’s oversized lens high— high— smiling sweetly for good measure. “Your star charts, my dear. Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

A pause, before he adds, with a flash of overlong teeth:

“Besides, you wouldn’t dare.”

[notathreat]

Ellie rolls her eyes outwardly, sighing like a frustrated teenager -- but reaches out to grab the scroll that contains the star chart she's borrowed from the library, so she can kneel down and spread it out. She reaches into her bag and pulls out two rocks -- they seem ordinary, even commonplace but if Astarion looks closely he'll see that they're not made of any soil or mineral found anywhere around here. Completely different color, and they even smell faintly of something like gunpowder.

She weights down the edges of the scroll with them, then seeks out the moons, orienting herself to find the first few astral bodies she's going to seek out.

Only after she does this, does she adjust the eyepiece back up, and pause, pulling away from it to glance at him.

"... I bet I could take you."

[illithidnapped]

“I’m not sure you’ll want to see the outcome of that hypothesis if it’s tested.” His voice drops to a villainous growl, though the sneer he wears is only as mischievous as a wolf mouthing at its kin. “I don’t tend to play nice.”

Says the vampire spawn that fumbled his first deceitful assault against a face he can’t seem to recall. The one who gave away his advantage against Fenris in prowling dark.

But for all the things that could be said about Astarion, he is nothing if not committed to the perpetuity of his own success. And here, in Thedas, it seems so much more attainable.

“Interesting trinkets, by the by.” Segue made with smooth interest and a few wagged fingers towards those rocks.

Star charts, telescopes, powers, foreign, curious little stones— what an emporium of fascination she makes herself in his eyes.

[notathreat]

Ellie just gives him a beaming grin back, and looks on through the glass, the smile lingering. Her shoulders have relaxed, and she takes a while to find the various bodies, familiarizing herself with the new map of the sky. It's dizzying to her, exciting, and after a lifetime of love for a different sky completely, maybe she should miss it more. But this one just seems like something else to swallow down.

How many people get to see more than one set of stars, really?

"Thanks," she says, pulled back to glance at the rocks. Her expression flickers to something more thoughtful and back again, and it takes a second to pull together what she wants to say.

A few seconds, really. So long it seems like she won't say anything. But then she does.

"They're moon rocks. From the moon," she says. "Not one of these moons, but- from a place I was before." Technically, not even her moon. Not really.

"I never got to make it up there myself, but..." she trails off, here. "Somebody I knew brought them back for me."

[illithidnapped]

His expression pinches slightly, smile curling at its edge. Not kind. Not cloying. He thinks visibly, the way an animal does. It’s evident enough, to anyone that looks.

“Well then how do you know they’re real?”

[notathreat]

Ellie looks up at him, then for a moment, really and truly considers it.

"Too many other people's stories lined up," she answers. Not he wouldn't lie to me. "He didn't come in alone."

She'll miss them, too. But now's not the time to really think on them. For now, though, she's learned a little more about Astarion.

[illithidnapped]

“Mm. As you say.” He concedes fussily, shrugging with a carefree glance to one side.

The argument could continue to be pressed. He could harp on if he wanted to, about the untrustworthiness of anyone. Anyone at all. Even groups can opt to lie, or spin a more impressive tale. But he’s fast lost interest in discussing it, knowing her faith holds something unshakable within it.

“Just across the water there, right under that second moon. A certain well-to-do noblewoman who’s been spurning suitors left and right by reputation is...well, shall we say, keeping herself very warm tonight.”

There you go, Ellie.

Never say he doesn’t do a thing for you.

[notathreat]

There's somebody who doesn't trust anything as far as they can throw it. Ellie follows the look, one corner of her mouth pulled in, her eyes older than the rest of her. Yeah. She's seen that before. She waits for that heartbeat, for him to argue -- and gives a slight nod when he doesn't.

She's seen that before, too.

But the response isn't anything she expected, and Ellie sputters, turns red, and pulls a face at him.

"Shit, how do you know that about her?"

Don't think about the rest. Doooon't think about the rest.

[illithidnapped]

“Because it’s my job to know everything about everything, particularly when it comes to those with money— or power.”

How close he’d been to aligning himself with Diplomacy. How much more he enjoys wicked, wicked secrets uncovered only in shadow. Her expression, however, sparks a proud widening of his own toothy grin. He does love it, dearly, the way her responses run so vivid. So mirthful.

So utterly sincere.

He’d never expected that. To find actual enjoyment in....well. No matter.

[notathreat]

Ellie openly rolls her eyes at Astarion's answer, trying and failing to hide a smile.

"Fuck me, but you sound like you walked right out of a cheesy vampire novel," she tells him, and lets the grin break through. For all that she's ribbing him, she is enjoying the hell out of herself. This is much better than being up here alone.

"I don't know how you say that shit with a straight face."

[illithidnapped]

"Cheesy?" He scoffs. He more than scoffs, he puffs, sputtering, when he says it— as though if he had feathers or fur to spare, it'd be ruffled high in showful irritation, punctuated by the angled curl of his lip across a fang.

"How dare you."

He doesn't even know what cheesy might be intended to mean in this context, but he knows enough to be offended.

...but then again, he'd be offended anyway. On principle.

"After all I've done for you. All I've shared."

[notathreat]

Ellie looks back at him with wide eyes, buttons her lips together, and manages to look both younger and older than she is, her eyes dancing with restrained laughter.

Fuck, she does like him.

"Terribly sorry, old chum."

... she's going to say that in a horrible Ferelden accent.

[illithidnapped]

He's still postured in poised offense, still pressing a lone hand against the center of his chest— and then it breaks, and he's fitting a sharper stare her way over the edges of his own beguiled grin.

"I'm going to throw you over the side of this tower, and no one's going to know that I was the villain responsible for your very untimely end."

1/2

[notathreat]

"Oh no," Ellie says flatly, lolling her head to one side. "Please. Stop. Someone help."

Calmly, she presents both wrists for him, to give him an easy handle, apparently, for slinging her off the side of the tower.

She leans forward and loudly whispers.

2/2

[notathreat]

"I'm gonna be such a shitty ghost."

[illithidnapped]

He might feign weakness— at times he undoubtedly pales in comparison to those more used to constant combat in the wearying dark— but muscle is muscle, and beneath leather and frills, he has much, much more than one might expect: it's a very simple thing to take her offered wrists, hoist her directly over his shoulder, and lean ever so slightly back over the tower parapets.

"I have a feeling you'll do just fine."

[notathreat]

Feint or not, Ellie isn't expecting to be hoisted, and she's even lighter than she looks. All sharp edges and wiry muscle, and he's treated to her eyes going wide before she has to fight the reflex to drive a knee as deep into his solar plexus as she can.

Instead Ellie lets out a high noise and claws both hands into the clothes at the small of his back, rumpling them, and jams her leg against his shoulder, holding on with strength that is, quite suddenly, very superhuman.

"I'm taking you with me," she sputters, caught between breathless offense and half-hysterical laughter. Nobody's dared do anything like this to her in years.