strongshields
/ / * * noir the marvel pookies ( me ) miss u
THOUSHALTOBEY
M4TRI4RCHS
a shame you can't see your reflection , astarion . you look . . . well , better than i've seen thus far .
temptisms
" you don't seem surprised . you know a lot of demons ? "
THOUSHALTOBEY
@temptisms ⠀⠀⠀╱⠀⠀⠀"demons? you'd be surprised. far from the SCARIEST creatures about, though." astarion replied as he crossed his arms over his chest.
strongshields
݁ ⁀ ෴ ☆ ° • ┃I LOVE YOU NOIR !
goldenglammer
the path was narrow, sun-dappled and choked with undergrowth, but pirphal moved through it like mist on water—quiet, pale, watchful. a wood-woven cloak hung over his shoulders, half hiding the bow strapped across his back. he didn’t mean to get close, not really. but there was blood in the air. not fresh enough to alarm him, not old enough to ignore.
he paused, crouched low near a ridge of moss-laden stone. voices. or one voice, then silence.
and then—he saw *him.*
a stranger. pale as bleached bone, elegant in a way that set pirphal’s nerves alight. no sword drawn, not immediately hostile. but something about him gleamed—like a knife just under velvet.
pirphal didn’t rise from the brush. not yet.
“…you’re not lost,” he said quietly, not asking. his voice was low, hoarse with disuse. “but you’re far from safe. people don’t linger here.”
he blinked, once.
“who are you?”
a subtle shift of his weight, hand not on his bow, but near it. not a threat. just… caution, coiled deep.
and something else. beneath the tension in his shoulders, a flicker of something sharp and ancient behind his eyes.
grief, perhaps.
or recognition.
THOUSHALTOBEY
@goldenglammer ⠀⠀⠀╱⠀⠀⠀being caught after feeding would normally result in quite the tragedy—- not for astarion, of course. with fresh strength and vigor flowing through his undead veins, a primal air about him, he was unstoppable. or so he felt like, anyhow. but there was something in the stranger's glance that caught him a little by surprise. caution. not fear, not immediate submission nor dominance, and not even anger. simple caution. and whilst he deemed this to be naive, he WAS working on the whole 'being a better person' thing. his fangs would remain away. for now. "who's asking?" he would wonder, dusting his hands off.
eternalsflame
⠀⠀⠀⠀ why are you looking at me like that? i thought it would be amusing. ):
eternalsflame
⠀⠀⠀⠀ [ aela’s gaze narrowed on the pale elf, her arms crossing over her chest. ] i’m unsure of why that’s low, but i’m not surprised you ‘admire’ it.
eternalsflame
⠀⠀⠀⠀ gale was merely the distraction so i could set it up. but fine, if that is how you wish it to be, spawn.
M4TRI4RCHS
you're chipper this evening . what is it now ? found a willing victim to drink from ?
* ╱╱ another one bc i luv them
M4TRI4RCHS
ID. @THOUSHALTOBEY truly ? i'll admit my surprise , then . i'd expect you would all but jump at the chance .
THOUSHALTOBEY
@HERPIETY ⠀⠀⠀╱⠀⠀⠀i dont trust that visitor one bit. they will be hearing nothing from me.
M4TRI4RCHS
ID. @HERPIETY are you , now ? well , you can tell that to those you dream of during your trance . i'm sure our visitor would be incredibly joyous .
M4TRI4RCHS
i told you that i did not take that portal sherry . the flavor is / atrocious / .
M4TRI4RCHS
ID. @THOUSHALTOBEY well , it isn't as if the others consume wine . i do miss a good red . now , we - scrounge in barrels .
M4TRI4RCHS
ID. @THOUSHALTOBEY you don't even consume food . you skulk away after supper like some ghast .
THOUSHALTOBEY
@eithalasaris * ⸝⸝⸝ IM SAT
woodlanddruid
Halsin had been tending quietly to the fire, feeding it with thick pine branches that snapped and hissed as the sap caught flame. He was alone, or so he thought—content in the hum of crickets and the subtle stirrings of night creatures beyond the camp’s reach.
But the rustle of movement, soft and deliberate, caught his ear.
He straightened subtly, not alarmed, but no longer at ease. His sharp senses, long-honed by years in the wilds, detected more than just casual wandering. There was a tension to the steps, a hesitancy that struck him as *unusual*. When the figure stepped into the firelight, Halsin blinked—just once, but sharply.
“Astarion?”
His voice, deep and usually grounded with calm, now held a distinct note of *uncertainty*. He rose partially to his feet, setting aside his clay mug without ceremony, all the warmth from a moment ago replaced by a readiness—a protectiveness.
“You startled me,” he admitted, brow furrowed as his eyes searched the pale elf’s face. “Is something wrong?”
There was no accusation in his tone—just earnest worry. He took a cautious step forward, his bulk moving with surprising gentleness. His gaze softened, but did not lose its edge of tension.
“You don’t usually approach so quietly. Not unless… something’s happened.”
Halsin’s breath slowed as he took the moment in fully. There was more here than just a nightly visit. He could feel it like a change in the wind—subtle, but undeniable. And so, with no demand, only steady concern, he asked once more—quieter this time:
“Tell me. What is it?”
woodlanddruid
halsin smiled at that—soft and unseen, the kind that bloomed more in the chest than the face.
“good,” he murmured, letting the word hum low against astarion’s hair. “i hope you do.” his hand stayed where it was, calm and steady, not gripping but grounding. it didn’t surprise him, the way astarion still glanced around like a creature long caged. it didn’t bother him either. survival left its marks. he had seen it in animals, in people, in himself. the druid didn’t ask the instincts to go quiet—he simply gave them no reason to sharpen.
“and if you forget,” halsin added after a pause, “i’ll remind you.” not a promise made with urgency or pity, but the kind spoken like bark weathered by time—firm, rooted, unchanged. he leaned back just enough to tilt his head, so astarion could see the truth in his face if he looked. the firelight flickered in his amber eyes, catching in the lines that spoke of patience more than age.
“you don’t owe me anything for this,” he said quietly. “just… let yourself have it.” it wasn’t a command. wasn’t even a plea. just a permission, freely given. and then he shifted again, ever so slightly, so astarion could move if he needed. no cage, no trap. only choice. always choice. “even if only this once.”
THOUSHALTOBEY
@woodlanddruid ⠀⠀⠀╱⠀⠀⠀"boy do i know," he mumbled against halsin's warm chest. even if he wanted to be truly alone, he wasnt sure ANY of their companions would allow it. even so, halsin prevented him from feeling the loneliness. he was beyond grateful. not that he could verbalize it, though. he took a deep breath, the warm honey-like aroma of halsin's body seeming to add yet another layer of comfort to this already tranquil moment. his red eyes darted about from what little he could see around the druid's large frame, much like a caged beast. but there was no desire for escape, he knew he could if he wanted to. no, only observing their surroundings because, for once, he could observe without planning. "i'll remember this, you know." he whispered.
woodlanddruid
halsin could feel the tension at first—the way astarion’s body held itself like a drawn bow, braced for some pain that never came. he didn’t shift, didn’t squeeze tighter. just stayed steady. a silent message: *you are safe. I will not pull away.*
when he felt those cool hands settle against his back, he exhaled slow and quiet, like a forest sighing beneath the weight of snow. his hand rose gently, not to restrain, but to rest—broad fingers curling lightly at the back of astarion’s shoulder, a quiet anchor.
he felt the smile before he heard the words. felt the way the sharpness softened, just a little, in the elf’s posture.
“I always keep my promises,” he murmured, voice just a brush of warmth near astarion’s temple.
and then he said nothing else for a long while. he didn’t need to. the fire crackled, soft and low, casting gold across their joined shadows. halsin’s breath stayed slow and even, patient as ever.
his hold didn’t falter—not possessive, not pressing. just *there.* strong, open, and wholly unshaken by whatever silence or stillness the moment brought.
when he finally did speak again, it was quieter still, like the hush of leaves at dusk.
“you don’t have to be alone in this, you know.”
he didn’t say *what* exactly. didn’t need to. the offer lingered in the air, not asked of him, just given. like everything else.