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[icyspicy]

𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗 🐙✨

summer

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ABOUT ME

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

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Confused by the username? Good.

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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.

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[astarion]

[The waiter waddles by on its tail fins. Don't ask how!]

He... did what?

[Now, such a thing isn't unheard of--the despicable nature of betrayal--especially when one runs in criminal, shady circles like Astarion once did, before all the tadpole nonsense. But it still surprises him, perhaps because imagining something happening to Winter, a friend of his, really does twist uncomfortably in his chest.]

Gods. What a cad. [He'd almost be impressed, if it had happened to someone else.] And this deal, was it... palatable?

[The warlock he knew before Winter did not, ah. Exactly get along with his patron.]

[icyspicy]

[ Teal Looney Toons energy in this place. ]

One of the archfiends themselves could have offered me a deal in that moment and I would have taken it.

[ Which, while not a pleasant "what if" to explore, is quite true. Winter had been desperate, dying and hurt and angry. Anything that gave him the opportunity to continue to draw breath would have been enough, even if it had ultimately cost him his soul. ]

But, thankfully, my patron is not so ambitious. I'm left largely to my own devices, and the most they ever ask me for, after having freed them of course, is knowledge. It's part of why I'm here. To learn new things to share with them.

[astarion]

[Their waiter had been thoughtful enough to provide Astarion with a long but tiny straw, and he grasps at it with his little digits while he listens to Winter. His expression is the closest it can be to a frown.]

Knowledge... That's not so bad, I suppose. Especially in a place like this, where there's so much to learn, and everyone has a story to tell. No, your patron must be very happy, indeed.

[A pause, though.]

That's two things we share in common, then. [He doesn't mean about the patron, obviously.]

[icyspicy]

[ Winter's brow creases as he tries to work through what Astarion could possibly mean. The adorableness of the little bat with a little straw is shoved aside for now. ]

Now, I know you're not a warlock who's been holding out on me. So, what, then?

[astarion]

[He doesn't drink just yet, but holds the straw in place with one "paw", his other wing drooping at his side.]

That you would have taken any opportunity presented to survive. That you didn't want death to sweep you away. That's how I ended up as a vampire, you know. Attacked in the night, left to bleed out... and my future "master" offering me eternal life to "save" me.

[At the expense of so, so much.]

Between the two of us, however, you ended up with a much better bargain.

[icyspicy]

[ Winter wouldn't... well, no, he might wish what he went through on his worst enemy, less the life-saving warlock pact at the end of the road. But a friend? Especially one he considers dear, he wouldn't want them to go through any part of what he went through.

Knowing Astarion knows quite intimately what it's like to be left for dead makes something in his chest twist, and he frowns. ]

Hells, Astarion. I'm so sorry.

[astarion]

[It's hard to know what to do with empathy, other than allowing it to turn over in his head, wonder at the nature of him earning it, and letting it settle quietly inside of him. His tone edges wry.]

Yes, well. I am, too. Sorry that it happened to both of us. But glad, as well, that someone else... knows what it's like.

[Though he'd not ever wish it on a friend, either. An enemy though? Happily.]

It's terrifying.

[To him it was.]

[icyspicy]

It is.

[ What a terrible thing to be able to bond over, but where Sumina had shed tears of compassion for him over this story, Astarion understands. That somehow settles in him as all the more poignant. ]

I'd never been so scared in my life. Or angry.

[astarion]

I was angry, too. Though that came well after.

[How could it not, when the dawning realization of what he had become was impossible to ignore? But with Winter, having to strike that deal in the wake of a betrayal, that anger must have been scorching and immediate.]

So what did you do? After you made your deal and managed to survive?

[icyspicy]

[ It had been. It nearly burned him alive. Perhaps it's a mercy that it wasn't left to fester. ]

I did to that man what he tried to do to me, only I didn't fail. And then I was given his job.

[astarion]

[Good, he thinks. The man got what was coming to him, and it appeals to his baseline violent tendencies to hear it. Astarion's fangs flash a little, and it won't be hard to imagine that, were he an elf, the corners of his smile would be sharp, indeed.]

It sounds to me like he got what he deserved.

[icyspicy]

[ He can picture the sharp little grin on Astarion's elven features quite easily. It's still funny on a bat, though. ]

That he did. What of your own situation? I know precious little about how vampires work, apart from the obvious.

[astarion]

[Well. He's going to need a long pull from his glass before he starts to explain this, and he does before he continues.]

How vampires work... To put it simply, I'm not a true vampire like my old master was. I'm what you call a vampire spawn, created to be little more than a thrall with very little of the advantages that a full vampire possesses.

[icyspicy]

... I see.

[ With that new context, he can guess at where this is going. The man appeared to Astarion to offer him salvation, but it landed him in shackles — real or metaphorical — instead. ]

And your master?

[astarion]

[He's correct.

The sound he makes, still very bat-like, is low and unflattering.]

His name was Cazador. And his ambition was matched only by his cruelty. Needless to say, his promise of "eternal life" was more a curse than a blessing. It's bad enough, being a spawn. But being a spawn under the control of such a sadistic master...

[One can imagine it's not pleasant.]

[icyspicy]

You were trapped.

[ That look of concern still sits on the warlock's face, but there's something angry that starts to flicker in pale eyes, too. It's only Astarion's use of the past tense that stops it from becoming any more than that. ]

What happened to him?

[ Something awful, he hopes. ]

[astarion]

[He sees it, Winter becoming angry for his sake. And for now, he relishes in it — that, and the inevitable reveal.]

Oh, him? I killed him.

[Something awful, indeed.]

It’s a sordid tale, I warn you. If you want to really hear it.

[icyspicy]

[ Oh, thank the gods. Winter was already imagining having to storm into Baldur's Gate to do something stupid. There's a bit of relief that slips into his expression. ]

I'd like to hear it, if you don't mind telling it.

[astarion]

[It's not easy to retell, but he doesn't mind it. No, he wouldn't have offered otherwise.

Winter's earned this tale by now. And for once, it's a blessing to be a bat -- perhaps some of the harder bits to relay will be spoken more easily knowing that his expressions can't be so straightforwardly read.]

Suppose we should start at the beginning, then. After I was turned, I was practically enslaved. There was no running from him, no escape. A vampire spawn is literally under the thrall of their master. [That was no metaphor.] Anything he willed, I would have no choice but to do. No manner of willpower could break me free, and the punishment for even trying would have been... severe.

[He feels the anger coiling up, the disgust. Even free of that influence, it will have left its mark for many years to come.]

And under his service, I spent two centuries luring back poor, witless souls to his palace. For the sake of his own meals, or so I thought at the time. In the meanwhile, I was only ever permitted to feed on rodents and insects.

[icyspicy]

[ Ah, no. The anger is back, even if the man responsible is dead. Even if Astarion tales only the bare bones of his tale, the list of injustices here is long. Two centuries of being without one's own will, being made to lure others to their deaths, and left to starve for his troubles. ]

Hells, Astarion. How did you get away?

[astarion]

[He really shouldn't feel an almost-glee at seeing someone else angry at his circumstances, but he does. It's vindicating.]

I got away by being kidnapped. [Here, he laughs, and it's truly amused. The irony of how these things work; to be saved from his awful circumstances by finding himself in an equally terrible one.] By that rather pesky Illithid nautiloid. And thus, earning that wiggly little tadpole in my brain.

That was one advantage I didn't mention to you at the time. As well as enduring sunlight, and running water, and being able to enter homes without an invitation... I was free from Cazador's control.

[icyspicy]

[ Winter feels for others, yes, but it's rare that he gets angry. Astarion's circumstances strike at something in him... or perhaps they strike at something in him Because it's Astarion. He's not going to bother to untangle that right now.

It's dreadfully unfair, what his friend went through. ]

Oh. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. [ Fucking Illithids!! ] But it seems you got your chance to put an end to the man who made your life a living hell. I'm glad.

[ A beat. And then, not without a little amusement: ] It sounds to me like he got what he deserved.

[astarion]

[His words, reflected right back at him. Underpinning their similarities yet again, at least at their core. Somehow, that feels even more delightfully bracing, and Astarion lets out another laugh. For how heavy this conversation could be, he finds it easy to speak with Winter on it. That's nice.]

Isn't it nice, to have revenge adequately delivered to the bastards who had it coming?

[There's more he could say, of course. He debates whether or not he should divulge the details; that he had felt anything but "nice" after he had stabbed Cazador ceaselessly, overwhelmed by all manner of emotion, not all of it kind. That the victims he had been luring to his palace were treated like imprisoned cattle, for the sake of sacrificing for a ritual. And the ritual itself...

Most days, he's sure he's made the right choice by denying that power. But sometimes, when he's alone and weighted down by an uncertain future, the what ifs still whisper in his ear, taunting.

...Maybe that's a conversation for some other time.]

Though... don't tell Gale this, but I couldn't have done it alone. It was an awful battle. Yours, I hope, was over much more quickly.

[icyspicy]

[ That laugh untwists some of that unpleasantness coiling in his chest, and Winter casts a smile at the vampire-turned-bat across from him. ]

It really, really is.

[ Winter's own brand of revenge had been brief and emotional, his anger made manifest in the magic that punched its way through his would-be killer's ribs. It wasn't pretty by any means. But it was his. And it was absolute. ]

My lips are sealed. [ He's sure Gale knows as much anyway, sharp fellow that he is. ] For me... it was over and done in moments. He looked at me like he'd seen a ghost, and that was the last thing he ever saw.

[astarion]

[He loves to hear it. Even if it was brief, the tale appeals to him, and how could it not? Revenge is so keenly entwined with violence that he can't help but to play the scene out in his head and be satisfied by the results. maybe one day a memshare for this in Caelum-verse, too]

Gods, I imagine that was quite the fright for him. You must have been livid. And I bet that was a very [hot] handsome look on you, though of course I'd not wish betrayal again on you just to see it.