Tʜᴇ Pᴀʟᴇ Eʟғ | Asᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ Aɴᴄᴜɴíɴ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
illithidnapped) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
faderift2021-06-01 01:09 pm
illithidnapped) wrote in faderift2021-06-01 01:09 pm
[OPEN] Young Blood, say you want me out of your life
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
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!]
no subject
Easy to clock as an honest statement. Annoyed, perhaps, but anger is far off, not easily accessed. It would take more than this.
"I'm not such a fool as to carry all my coin in one place."
Though there is some novelty in being pegged as an easy mark, and losing any of his coin to begin with. It's been a long time since anyone took him for that kind of pushover.
"Do you make this a habit?"
Theft. Fine dining. Sharp-faced bedmates. All of the above.
no subject
“Well it’s not a pretty habit, I’ll grant you, but needs must as they say. I’m a man with few resources and even fewer friends.”
Hangdog in his glance, deferential down through the set of his shoulders to the gentle press of his hand as it slides nearer to his heart. Not overplayed, only natural, that progression, made all the more potent by truth.
“Besides, I always pay my debts— in the end. If I’d known you were on my side, I certainly would’ve treated you kinder.”
His bad, Ellis.
no subject
Ellis is willing to take it as such, while slightly dubious about it's source. He finishes the roll before responding, tearing the last of it in half, taking his time chewing and swallowing, letting Astarion's assertions hang in the air between them.
"There's a stipend," he says, which is a little bit of a joke whether Astarion realizes it or not. The stipend is not so generous. "But we are on the same side."
Thief or not.
"Make it up to me by watching my back and keeping your hands out of my pockets, aye?"
no subject
His elbows rest across the edge of the table, slender fingertips folding where they meet, his chin settling atop them in a wistful sort of posing. Contented.
"But for clarity's sake: am I allowed to put my hands in your pockets if I'm not taking anything out of them?"
no subject
"I can't see the purpose of it."
There's an element of tolerance in his tone, because Ellis isn't entirely unaware of potential avenues this line of clarification can take.
But he does punctuate the statement by snaring a strip of meat off Astarion's plate. There is no silverware on Ellis' side of the table, but he can manage well enough with his hands. The unspoken joke: Fereldans, table manners, ha ha.
no subject
"Maybe you will. Later."
But for now, back to business:
"Are you often in need of a pair of eyes watching your back, darling?"
no subject
The meat is finished. Ellis folds his hands on the table, refocuses on the question.
"Aye, I do," is a carefully honest assessment. "Is that something you specialize in as well?"
A question that comes with a flicker of amusement breaking through the weight of Ellis' study. He'd been listening. He'd heard some of Astarion's needling of half the company.
cries because I didn't get this notif and only realized NOW
Granted, he's taken with a lot of things right about now.
"Of course it also begs the question of what sort of trouble you're getting into that this is such a persistent little problem. Charming as you are, I can't imagine anyone taking issue with your presence."
dreamwidth BETRAYING us
Somewhere in the Gallows, Vance frowns and doesn't know why. But Warden politics isn't strictly relevant to the question.
"Riftwatch makes a habit of finding trouble," is a more accurate answer. "It's my job to get out in front of it and make sure it's looking at me while the job is completed."
And sometimes completing the job literally just means walloping that trouble into pulp, but Ellis doesn't bother saying as much. He has the sense this man can make that assumption on his own.
"You see why it would be a benefit, having someone keeping an eye to make sure nothing managed to flank me and put a knife in my back?"
no subject
You do know who it is you're dealing with, don't you, Ellis? The man that did, in fact, steal from you earlier?
no subject
There are exceptions, whether because Ellis finds them incompetent or untrustworthy or because he knows they aren't combatants.
Maybe Astarion fits into one of those categories, maybe he doesn't. Ellis isn't holding the theft against him just yet.
"And I'd think you'd prefer me alive, so you could keep harvesting coin out of my jacket pocket."
no subject
People like that don't tend to last long.
"But you're right, in this case. I've the motive and the means, and it's not as though I've got my hands particularly full at the moment." He lifts his chin, fans his hands as an example of all the deadened air that exists now between them, even if it is filled with the din of faint chatter and off-key singing from somewhere else within the establishment.
"It begs the question of how you'll repay me, but we can work all those unimportant details out as we go along in our partnership."
no subject
Even without much of an impression, Ellis is absolutely certain that Astarion does nothing at all for free.
"When I'm sent out next, I'll bring you along," cements the agreement. Ellis does what he says he will, and he can give this man a try. Partnership is a weighty term to apply to what feels like happenstance on his end and frivolous curiosity on the other. It's not the most promising start, but then again, Ellis has had worse introductions to people that managed to turn somewhere in the neighborhood of decent.
no subject
He says this primly— proudly— in the face of that smile Ellis is wearing, wanting to be sure they've set all the figurative cards in place before reaching a proper accord.
stick a bow on this y/y
Muck pits might be hard to avoid, considering the majority of what Ellis is good for, but—
"I'll come up with something, and find you when it's time," is said as Ellis rises, leaning across the table to take a last strip of meat from Astarion's plate as a parting gesture.
n/n fight me in the pit
Pity.
What a loathsome and terrible pity.
https://i.ibb.co/fqCpVtF/tumblr-ac47b0da7d960b81ff537a80e0537496-2604bd4f-640.gif
"I'd have assumed you'd be glad to be rid of me," Ellis counters. "So you could proceed with your evening."
A fine meal, and fine company. Ellis isn't blind; he knows what he interrupted, and he doesn't doubt Astarion is capable of getting back on that track once Ellis is gone.
;}
New tracks, newer ventures; Astarion could no doubt easily recover from the blow he’d been ever so gently dealt— but it’s clear enough in the sharpness of that crimson-eyed stare, unblinking in its potent fix, that he’s adjusted his own personal wants for the moment. “Sit down. Drink.”
Graceful fingers gesture towards the open seat beside him, rather than the one across the table that Ellis had snatched up as an opportunity, that frigid shade of albinism worn across Astarion’s extended fingertips (across all of him, actually) painted warm by dim tavern light.
Come here.
“And if you’re afraid I’m going to gobble you up at the end of our picturesque exchange, don’t be: I’ll only play dirty if you ask me to. Promise.”
no subject
That still tempt, apparently.
The passing flicker of interest comes to him like a hand reaching out of the dark, catching him by the ankle. But his scrutiny still lapses into a shake of the head, signaling no before Ellis has dredged up the words for it.
His hands had flexed over the back of the chair they'd come to settle upon. Now they lift away. (That he's paused at all, that it took time to consider—)
"It's a generous offer," is a true thing, rather than a politeness. "But I can't."
Shouldn't. Won't. There's a complicated snarl of reasoning behind it.
"I've an obligation," is a true thing too. "Guard duty with Kirkwall's dock patrol. You'll have to forgive me."
no subject
Is the reply that comes, Astarion’s expression narrowing as it bottoms out. Whether it’s in regards to the concept of having to forgive Ellis for forsaking his offer in favor of guard duty, or just forgiving him at all, isn’t clear.
Maybe it’s both.
“But...enjoy your little walk.” said as he pours himself another glass of deep red, leaning back in his seat to make a show of sipping it— his attention not yet diverted to anyone else in sight.
“Here’s hoping nothing frightful finds you in the dark.”
https://i.ibb.co/qddRtd9/image.png
"Don't worry. I'm well-protected."
This is not the vote of confidence in Kirkwall's night watch that it sounds like.
But still, Ellis steps away in the wake of this statement rather than linger. He makes for the door. He doesn't look back.