✨ INBOX: hotel caelum

[icyspicy]

𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗 🐙✨

summer

---

ABOUT ME

Hello! This is very delightful, though I have no idea what I'm doing!

NOTE

Confused by the username? Good.

Message @summer

code | art

BIRTHDAY DIRECTORY QR CODE

NAME: Winter BIRTHDAY: December 21st FAV CAKE FLAVOR: Black Forest WHAT THEY WANT MOST FOR THEIR BIRTHDAY: To have a good time.

Comments

[astarion]

[Well, that's sweet of him, really, willing to use his spell slots on Astarion again. For now, it won't be necessary; he grabs the canvas bag and digs through his clothes, hurriedly trying to sort them. Underwear first!!]

Aha... Would you now. No peeking; as I said, you have to earn that first.

[Anyway... He will... stand and get dressed. The quickest he can. He still has to squeeze into these tight-ass pants tho so. Give him a moment.]

[icyspicy]

But of course. It wouldn't do to ruin the fun.

[ He will be as much as a gentleman as he can be, but when he hears the tell-tale sounds of Astarion trying to shimmy into his breeches, he can't quite help glancing over.

It's less the sight of the half-dressed vampire that draws his attention and more the scars carved into his back. What the hells is that? And what kind of agony did he go through to get it? ]

Astarion... your back.

[astarion]

[He should really invest in looser pants.

But he manages, and he's reaching over to unfold his shirt to slip that on, too, when Winter makes his remark.

Your back.

Ah. He freezes.]

...You said you wouldn't look.

[icyspicy]

... Not at all of you. I'm sorry, I just... it surprised me.

[ All those scars, painstakingly carved into flesh in a language he can't place. Was this part of what bound him to his master? Or something else entirely? ]

[astarion]

[It isn't as though his scars haven't been on display before in this hotel, but this is the first time someone other than Gale has looked upon them with more context.

After all, he's certain Winter is clever enough to assume just where these very purposefully-made scars might have come from. And it makes him feel oddly vulnerable, in a different way than simply retelling his past.]

I'm... teasing, love. [That's half true, anyway.] It's no grand secret. Cazador carved these into my back. As I said, he was a cruel bastard.

[icyspicy]

[ He has the urge to reach out and touch, to coast his fingers over the raised skin like that might bring some sort of solace. He doesn't, because surely that's stepping over a line he really hasn't earned the right to cross. ]

What were they for? I don't know the language, but I know the workings of magic when I see it. Ah... not that you have to answer, of course. If you'd rather move on, we can.

[astarion]

[Right now, at least, that was likely the wiser of the two options. He already feels a bit exposed, and unexpected touch is... complicated on a normal day.

He works to get his shirt on, over his head, then one sleeve at a time.]

It's Infernal. [So much for saving this story for later, but that's all right. He can hew away all the raw parts.] Part of a contract Cazador made with Mephistopheles himself. All for a ritual that would grant him even more power than he already possessed. These scars... they indicate that I was to be made a sacrifice for that selfsame ritual.

I didn't know that at the time, of course. I thought he merely wanted to inflict pain because he could.

[...But it was probably that, too, for how long he dragged it out.]

[icyspicy]

[ Softly, but with feeling, ] Fuck.

A vampire making contracts with an archfiend? That can't end well for anyone but... [ He looks back at Astarion, now that he's finishes pulling his clothes on. Not only was he a prisoner, a slave, something lesser, but a sacrifice too? ] Gods, Astarion. I hardly know what to say except I'm glad the bastard's dead.

[astarion]

[He leaves his shirt untucked for now. He can't be bothered to fix it just yet, and instead, Astarion tugs idly at the cuffs of his sleeves.]

An "ascended" vampire skulking about Baldur's Gate in broad daylight? No, it would have been awful.

[He scoffs, but then offers a shrug.]

I may be free, but I'm marked forever with these scars of the past. I suppose you might call that poetic.

[icyspicy]

[ In broad daylight... yeah, that must have been quite the ritual.

But as to the rest, he offers a soft smile. ]

We all bear such things. Yours just happen to be visible.

[astarion]

True enough. But that doesn't mean I have to like them.

[Said with a vaguely forced smile, but then he lifts a hand and waves that notion away. Astarion sits and works on slipping his boots back on.]

Ah, no matter. I'm bringing the mood down. It's over and done with, and what's most important is that I needn't deal with that man any longer. He died spectacularly, just so you know.

[icyspicy]

I'll show you mine in return sometime.

[ His scars, he means. He doesn't have many, but he was stabbed in the back once upon a time. That sort of thing leaves a mark. ]

And I don't doubt that he did. Anyone who says revenge isn't worth it is a liar.

[astarion]

[His scars? Well, while he has no doubt they aren't quite as extensive as Astarion's--very few have scars that are--he is curious. He wouldn't mind seeing them... someday. If simply to drive home yet one more thing they have in common.]

Anyone who says revenge isn't worth it hasn't had anyone wrong them quite as spectacularly as what's happened to us. Lucky fools they are.

[Boots on, he twists in his seat to properly face Winter and grabs for his... very tiny glass.]

...This had seemed like so much. [As a bat.]

[icyspicy]

[ Help. The sudden absurdity of normal-sized, non-bat Astarion picking up the tiny shot glass his meal had been delivered in startles a laugh out of Winter. ]

You could order another one, I suppose. Unless you've a better idea of where to get a meal.

[astarion]

[At least he’s making Winter laugh earnestly, and he has to admit, it’s a nice sound.

Besides, it is a bit ridiculous, this tiny glass.]

Ha. You did offer your neck.

[Joking! Unless…]

[icyspicy]

[ Unless... ]

I did, didn't I?

[ He's quiet a moment, considering, then, ]

What do you say we get out of here?

[astarion]

[He blinks at the suggestion, and suddenly that “Unless…” is a big neon sign flashing in his head. (If he knew what a neon sign was. Or maybe he does by now, I don’t know.)]

Certainly. [He’ll not turn that down. He’s still hungry.] Where to, then?

[icyspicy]

We could go back to the spa for a second chance at relaxing.

[ Just, you know, stay away from the fountain. ]

Or, alternatively, my place. Or yours.

[astarion]

[Ah, choices. The spa would be fine, though there is the small chance of someone walking in on them, not to mention he doesn't quite trust the whole affair after being turned into a bat.

Someone's room, however, sounds... dangerous, and he cannot quite reconcile within himself whether that would be good or bad. Well, maybe it doesn't matter, either way. He's getting ahead of himself. First and foremost, he would like to feed a little off the warlock, and be in a space where such an act of trust would remain sheltered and uninterrupted, and so-]

Your room, then. Why not? I'm overdue a visit.

[icyspicy]

It's been a while, hasn't it?

[ It's been a long while since he carried a sleeping Astarion there and deposited him on his couch. Long enough to feel like a small lifetime ago. And that was also due to a spa, wasn't it? How funny that things seem to have gone full circle.

Winter finishes off his drink, and gets up from his chair. ]

Shall we?

[astarion]

[Honestly, how does the spa keep getting them to this point. Astarion grins, then lifts up his very tiny glass and downs the remaining blood. Waste not, want not.]

We shall.

[Clack goes the glass back onto the table, and he stands.]

Off to your very floaty floor for a bite.

[TO THE BATMOBILE SPACE FLOOR!!]

[icyspicy]

[ To the space floor! We won't deal with the particulars, it's safe to say they get there without issue. Winter beckons the other man into his room, gravity reasserts itself, and he shuts the door behind them.

Little has changed about Winter's room since the last time Astarion was here, though perhaps her might feel a bit more free to look around since he's no longer keeping his lack of reflection a secret. ]

How is it that even when we're trying not to have an adventure, we have one anyway?

[ He's making for the couch. Seems as good a place as any. ]

[astarion]

[Oh, while it's tempting to nose around, it doesn't seem like much has changed, and he can always do that after, can't he? He follows a few steps behind until Winter makes himself comfortable, then leans in with his hands on his hips, looking down at him with red eyes.]

An adventure without mind flayers, cultists, and something trying to kill me around every corner? Say it isn't so.

[That is to say: this is a much preferred kind of "adventure." Astarion takes a seat beside Winter.]

We have fun. That's the important part.

[icyspicy]

[ Winter himself leans back, legs crossed and arms spread to either side on the coach's back, icy eyes flicking up to his companion. ]

You lead such a charmed life, my dear Astarion.

[ A grin, gaze tracking the vampire as he sits down well within Winter’s wingspan. ]

We do have fun. It’s my hope that we keep on having fun, however we like.

[astarion]

[He twists his body to better face Winter, an elbow pressing into the back cushion while he leans in.]

Of course, Winter. With any luck, this will be the start.

[“This.” A vampire feeding on him. Not a conventional idea of fun, but certainly a creative one.]

Only one way of finding out.