[ like all academia, wizard school is most definitely a bacchanal of epic proportions, because there's got to be something to do between all the research. anyway, astarion, sweetie, he was fucking a goddess on the regular. it was at least a little scandalous. ]
I don't know what you think young people practically locked in a tower together for months at a time get up to, but it isn't all book clubs and lanceboard tournaments.
[ well, whatever. pulling the hat off, coming over to plonk that on astarion's head. ]
[ it’s less fun if he acknowledges that because then he can’t make as much fun of gale. ]
Oh I’m fully aware what people locked up in small places get up to eventually, but it feels like a 50/50 coin flip whether half the wizards I’ve met would be getting close and personal with their text books over each other. [ they’ve met rolan. ]
…
[ hmmmmm. he adjusts the hat so it’s at a respectable angle. ] … I could see myself when Gojo insisted on a photo last week.
[ and that was a fucking experience and a half he’s still not quite sure was real. ] I’m not sure I want to look in a mirror and find out that was a fluke.
[ he absolutely hesitates for far too long. like his feet have grown roots and dug into the ground. he thinks his eyes are red. they’d looked red in that strange little reflective device gojo had held up. but now he thinks about it, he’s not sure.
maybe he imagined it.
then he huffs, short, stroppy and annoyed and rips the roots out of his feet to step towards the mirror, arms folding defensively like a barrier between him and his own reflection. ]
[ he's patient with this little act - he's really allowed to take his time on these things if he wants to. it's actually a bit hard for gale to understand exactly the feelings happening to astarion in this moment, because he doesn't have a concept of losing all that time and then finding yourself a new and almost entirely different person. gale's problem is likely the opposite. he remembers too well the person he was before. the comparison is a harsh light.
as he comes over, since it's affection week, he'll just gently place a hand across astarion's shoulders, congenial and casual. ]
[ affection week doing its job -- astarion doesn't immediately wiggle away or try to duck from the touch. it's a little difficult for him to do more than just stare, really.
it would be near impossible explain what forgetting yourself is like. he knew his hair curled, because he could feel it. he suspected it was white, because he could see it curl in front of his face sometimes. but he can't recall the colour of his eyes, what they were like before cazador, and he had no idea what they became after.
he'd forgotten the shape of his nose, the point of his chin. so many little things that just made up his entry identity. ]
...
[ ...
he sniffs. ]
Well, I had some idea. I didn't have any trouble gaining attention these past two hundred years.
[ but his voice lacks the edge, replaced with something just a little more vulnerable. ]
[ he will gently remove the hat from astarion's head, so it doesn't get in the way, tossing it off to the side. he's looking more at astarion from the side than he is looking in the mirror - giving him a lopsided smile. ]
You had more than some idea. You told us about twice an hour. But I suppose when one is right, one is right.
[ some gentle teasing, so he feels like he's in his element. ]
It can be funny, just how quickly we forget these things. Why, I hardly remember what I looked like without a beard, and it wasn't even that long ago.
I think it'd be rather strange to imagine you with different eyes than you have now, actually.
[ he flushes when he's stared at because hello? ]
Surely not that strange. [ he clears his throat. ] Tara rather dislikes it, actually. I started it when I was in my tower for that year after the incident with the orb.
I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I couldn’t tell you what they were either way. I’m not even sure if my hair was white or not before I was turned.
[ hello. ]
Yes, but as you said: I think it’d be rather strange if you suddenly showed up clean shaven. Your face would look oddly bare. [ and then he’d try to sell us all a home makeover.
hm. ] Although I suppose for Tara it would be an entirely different matter. [ especially with that context. ]
Not into that bald cat— [ … ]— Tressym look, is she?
[ are there bald tressyms? he’s thinking about this now. ]
Well, it’s certainly striking. Even if it does scream “Vampire” from several rooftops. I’m surprised no one’s busted out the stakes and started questioning me more often.
[ red eyes, take warning. both of which go a little cross-eyed watching gale pull and sproing one of his curls. ]
Not at all. It’s a bit like looking at a stranger, albeit one who moves as and when I do.
Well apparently the vampire thing is simply not occurring to people here, because I don’t know that a single person has noticed! It’s actually a bit baffling.
Oh, I wouldn't be surprised if there was someone out there looking for a vampire. I'm just not the one they're meant to be looking for. Still, it's impressive, but it wasn't like all of you picked up on it until I got desperate enough for a feed.
[ tilts his head back. ]
If it's possible. Wouldn't that be the cherry on top of it. Cazador's dead, and then I manage to undo what he did to me. [ poetic.
and then he's grabbing gale's chin between his fingers and tilting his head further to one side. ] Hmm.
[ he just easily goes along with letting him tilt his head around like a he’s inspecting an apple, or perhaps a tomato. interesting reaction from a psycho-sexual perspective. ]
I rather like to think I would be fairly upset with a memory-altering head injury? That seems as if it would be wildly terrible for my career. But I will keep it in mind.
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I was often in trouble for quite a lot of things, Astarion. Too much collarbone is hardly the worst offense I can list.
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Let me guess — it was all stiff button ups and flashing an ankle was swoon worthy?
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if astarion isn't holding it down, he'll lift it up and then go to start fixing his hair in a nearby mirror. ]
What can I say? I was at times a bit of a distraction.
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but no, it’s just a tug. go fix your hair princess. ]
How scandalous. And here I thought you wizards were too busy with your noses in books to be going around exposing your shoulders and all and sundry.
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I don't know what you think young people practically locked in a tower together for months at a time get up to, but it isn't all book clubs and lanceboard tournaments.
[ well, whatever. pulling the hat off, coming over to plonk that on astarion's head. ]
Say-- can see yourself in a mirror?
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Oh I’m fully aware what people locked up in small places get up to eventually, but it feels like a 50/50 coin flip whether half the wizards I’ve met would be getting close and personal with their text books over each other. [ they’ve met rolan. ]
…
[ hmmmmm. he adjusts the hat so it’s at a respectable angle. ] … I could see myself when Gojo insisted on a photo last week.
[ and that was a fucking experience and a half he’s still not quite sure was real. ] I’m not sure I want to look in a mirror and find out that was a fluke.
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True enough. Though I'm sure our young friend Rolan will do fine if he worries less about Lorroakan for a short while.
[ looking between the mirror and astarion briefly, stepping slightly to the side and holding an arm out to wave him over. ]
Come.
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…
[ he absolutely hesitates for far too long. like his feet have grown roots and dug into the ground. he thinks his eyes are red. they’d looked red in that strange little reflective device gojo had held up. but now he thinks about it, he’s not sure.
maybe he imagined it.
then he huffs, short, stroppy and annoyed and rips the roots out of his feet to step towards the mirror, arms folding defensively like a barrier between him and his own reflection. ]
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as he comes over, since it's affection week, he'll just gently place a hand across astarion's shoulders, congenial and casual. ]
See? Perfectly handsome.
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it would be near impossible explain what forgetting yourself is like. he knew his hair curled, because he could feel it. he suspected it was white, because he could see it curl in front of his face sometimes. but he can't recall the colour of his eyes, what they were like before cazador, and he had no idea what they became after.
he'd forgotten the shape of his nose, the point of his chin. so many little things that just made up his entry identity. ]
...
[ ...
he sniffs. ]
Well, I had some idea. I didn't have any trouble gaining attention these past two hundred years.
[ but his voice lacks the edge, replaced with something just a little more vulnerable. ]
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You had more than some idea. You told us about twice an hour. But I suppose when one is right, one is right.
[ some gentle teasing, so he feels like he's in his element. ]
It can be funny, just how quickly we forget these things. Why, I hardly remember what I looked like without a beard, and it wasn't even that long ago.
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[ hmm. he wrinkles his nose slightly as the hat messes up his hair, but he keeps his gaze on the mirror the whole time. ]
The little things. You really do lose those before you even realise you can't quite remember what your eye colour was. Or how far apart they were.
[
and then gale says something cursed and he's turning his head to stare at him, the beard, and then him properly again. ]
... Oh now that is strange to imagine. [ NO BEARD? ]
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[ he flushes when he's stared at because hello? ]
Surely not that strange. [ he clears his throat. ] Tara rather dislikes it, actually. I started it when I was in my tower for that year after the incident with the orb.
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[ hello. ]
Yes, but as you said: I think it’d be rather strange if you suddenly showed up clean shaven. Your face would look oddly bare. [ and then he’d try to sell us all a home makeover.
hm. ] Although I suppose for Tara it would be an entirely different matter. [ especially with that context. ]
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[ he sort of laughs at his own joke. ]
While I'm sure you'd be just as attractive with dark hair or green eyes, this, ah, works for you? Do you ... remember anything else? From before?
[ affection week! so he reaches over to gently tug one of the curls in front of astarion's face so it sproings. ]
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[ are there bald tressyms? he’s thinking about this now. ]
Well, it’s certainly striking. Even if it does scream “Vampire” from several rooftops. I’m surprised no one’s busted out the stakes and started questioning me more often.
[ red eyes, take warning. both of which go a little cross-eyed watching gale pull and sproing one of his curls. ]
Not at all. It’s a bit like looking at a stranger, albeit one who moves as and when I do.
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Well apparently the vampire thing is simply not occurring to people here, because I don’t know that a single person has noticed! It’s actually a bit baffling.
[ tilting his head to look at him. ]
You mentioned wanting a cure.
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Oh, I wouldn't be surprised if there was someone out there looking for a vampire. I'm just not the one they're meant to be looking for. Still, it's impressive, but it wasn't like all of you picked up on it until I got desperate enough for a feed.
[ tilts his head back. ]
If it's possible. Wouldn't that be the cherry on top of it. Cazador's dead, and then I manage to undo what he did to me. [ poetic.
and then he's grabbing gale's chin between his fingers and tilting his head further to one side. ] Hmm.
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[ is grabbed is grabbed is grabbed
going fully red!!!! by the way!!!!!! what is happening. ]
May I help you … ?
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[ sure gale.
tilts his head the other way. ]
...
No, I agree. [ to what? ] If hit your head and get the sudden urge to shave, don't.
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You agree?
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I did say thinking of you without one was strange. But it defines your face more.
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Then, assuming I suffer a terrible head injury, I will rely on you to remind me of that fact.
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I will endeavour to do so. But I should inform you Karlach would be very upset if you got a memory altering head injury and then you’d feel bad.
[ pat pats his cheek. ]
So try to avoid it.
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I rather like to think I would be fairly upset with a memory-altering head injury? That seems as if it would be wildly terrible for my career. But I will keep it in mind.
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