[ From her perch, Shadowheart — the hen — allows herself a dainty sigh. The phone is a difficult creature to bend to her whims when her little talons aren't fleshy enough to make the screen particularly cooperative, but— ]
[ For a moment, Shadowheart wonders if this is some kind of message she's meant to decipher, but Astarion is neither clever enough to come up with a secret code nor stupid enough to test it on her at four in the morning. ]
Astarion. Send "yes" if you're dying, and "no" if I can go back to bed.
[ The fact of the matter is that Shadowhen can't read — but she has enough sense to know that the woman she's currently texting goes by the same name, and has seen the letters embroidered on enough ribbons to have a guess at what it means. A guess that, as it happens, has paid off. The selfie speaks for itself, as do the return emojis: ]
I like to think I manage well enough on land. After all I lived most of my life on a ship. If solid, unmoving ground was difficult for me I think I'd be a miserable sailor.
That's what I'm saying - if I can manage a ship deck then walking on land all by myself would be of little consequence! But this means I really must get you more accustomed to the water.
[ and he attaches an image - one of the eggs just cracked open, an ugly little shape of a small bird within. it's a little blurry, the photo taken from afar and zoomed in. ]
I've heard the name - maybe we have met.[ he can recall the name and the face from the game of werewolf, but that's not a good judge of anyone, is it? ]
Very pleased to meet you. I'm Rupert Giles. I'm afraid I don't have any animals named after me, as far as I know. Perhaps that's something to aspire to.
[ Inside an envelope upon which is written, in neat script, from Astarion: ]
[ ooc: there won't be a main log for the movie-watching (at least this time around) but folks are obviously free to icly respond, send their allotted invites, and/or play out their experiences if they so wish! welcome to the rebooted astarion's movie club! 🥳 ]
[ The morning before Shadowheart's first shift at the Hex Club, an envelope finds its way to her door. Inside is a gold pin in the shape of a hexagon, as well as a note: ]
Shadowheart, Welcome to the Hex Club. I look forward to working with you. — Silco
* For clarity's sake: The pin is merely a gift, not an expected part of your daily dress.
( Gale recommends Shadowheart. Stefan's not usually a vampire who jumps from witch to witch, but he recognizes allies and friends. If Shadowheart is recommended, then he takes Gale's word for it. He likes Gale. And Damon likes Gale, he thinks.
It's late and he knows Damon will wake up in the morning, but he'd like to take care of the bite before Damon wakes up.
It's weird to be getting in touch with a number he's just been given. Usually, someone is just physically sent. But, this is a small manor and the network works differently. )
Shadowheart, my name is Stefan Salvatore. Gale pointed me in your direction. I know it's late, but he told me you might be able to help my brother, Damon. Until tonight he was dying of a fatal bite. I was able to reverse the fatal part, but he still has an infected bite leftover. I know you don't know me, but I'm willing to do something in return if you helped him.
I know there was a revenant problem a few months ago, so if it's anything like that, I'm not sure I'll be much help. But Gale would know better than to send me a hopeless case.
It was a werewolf bite. Gale had been helping Damon and I, or trying, because it acts like a venom. Long story short, he was a vampire. I am a vampire. He's no longer a vampire.
As far as I can tell, it's only an infected, untreated bite now.
I'd rather him not wake up with an untreated bite.
I'm saying a cure from my world called the cure cured him of his vampirism, which cured him of the venom, but left him with an infected bite. It's a long story. I found it in this house.
Yoo-hoo. Out of the boundless goodness of my heart, I mentioned to someone else that you might be willing to take a look at an injury. Be a dear and don't make a liar out of me, would you?
[ gale can’t be certain which shadowheart he reaches out to, only that he feels the need to speak to her. to ensure she’s safe, even as he plasters himself to astarion’s side. ]
Astarion and I have returned from whence we came.
[ if shadowheart has joined them on the journey, she’ll understand. ]
[ Even though she wasn't in her room to look after them. And they're not blooms that last more than a day, either cultivated or in the wild. But they're in a small vase in Shadowheart's window nook, all the same. ]
Should we talk about
[ All of it? The visions they saw in the mirror, their fabricated history together. ]
[ relief floods him, at proof of his use — his worth — however small. ]
I do. Well, up until Baldur’s Gate, as previously discussed.
[ though he knows she refers to the alternate history that overtook them. a temporal distortion. yet more illusory magic foisted upon them without a whisper of consent.
he swallows hard. ]
For what it’s worth, I had forgiven you long ago. Or he had.
[ for the pain of heartbreak. such is the way of love and youth both. it’s almost a novelty, to have experienced it young enough to cope with the pain, far better than he would when it came late in life. and, although a fondness for those he knew and loved in the other world remains, none can lay claim to his heart but the one who coaxed it back to life.
it makes it easier to sit at a remove, fingers entwined in astarion’s hair, even if his boyish fumbling seems no less embarassing from this distance.
(and if he doesn’t acknowledge their most recent encounter, their reflections changing in the night — well, one needn’t rush to unspool all at once, lest they entangle themselves anew.) ]
[ Shadowheart takes a long moment to respond, again; half-considers putting her phone down until she feels capable of properly having this conversation (even though she'd broached it), or responding with something detached, a little mean. What's there to forgive? None of it meant anything, anyway.
But she doesn't have it in her. Gale has been her friend here, has seen her tears and hasn't abandoned her for them. It would be easier to push him away, but--where has that gotten her? Nothing but an empty path through the Shadowfell. ]
You were a good boyfriend. For what it's worth.
And the first one I can remember.
[ If her feelings for the other people she was with in that life are stranger to disentangle, Gale is uncomplicated, in a way. She doesn't have to explain to him that she doesn't have her own memories to return to, like everyone else does. That that mirror of her was more whole than she'll ever be. ]
Somehow I don't think we were encouraged to hold hands between classes at the Cloister.
So--thank you. I don't mind that it was you. Or him.
[ as they navigate this newfound knowledge of each other, the last thing he expects from shadowheart is a compliment. you were a good boyfriend, an assertion at odds with the other astarion’s clear outline of his failings. a strike against mystra growing bored and then frustrated with him, too. he doesn’t linger in it for too long, thinking instead on the significance of being shadowheart’s first in that world and this one, with her memories stolen from her.
and even if she still possessed them — she speaks true. shar does not allow for sentimental attachments. for softness. for love. he feels impossibly touched, to have given her that (and be given that in turn, when mystra came to him as a boy; there were others after her, but none so all-consuming). ]
Oh. Thank you. I’m glad it was you, too.
[ and not another, with privileged knowledge of him when he was young and vulnerable and oh so gangly. ]
And I hope you know you can always unburden yourself with me.
[ A small knot loosens in her, for reasons she can't quite explain. Gale could have easily dismissed her, told her it wasn't real, that it all meant nothing. (The same shield she'd considered erecting, instead of offering him her vulnerability.)
He offers Shadowheart a gentle reflection, instead. Easier to hear--and say--all of this in writing, where he can't see her getting misty-eyed again. ]
✉️ text — @GETJINXED
u sure are blowing up his phone
shadowheart 🖤
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Who is this?
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have a guess
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And who I talk to is none of your business.
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didn’t think u would be boring
are u one of portia’s little groupies
or just some loner girl
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In your case, I think I'll need a full bottle of wine.
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so u are a little rich girl like poppy
cute
[ feeling significantly less threatened by that class indicator alone. topsiders will never understand them — they can’t. ]
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[ shar says all extra funds go to the cloister 🖤 ]
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just fancy things wealth can buy
hmmmm
okay
silco can play with u i guess
little miss nobody
[ for now, having decided the girl isn’t worth her time. ]
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✉️ text — un: astarion.
.. jh66svdd8jfbbbcclmm888bb7GBBBN jj. hg. a. lu7cjnxmm. m
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I hope you're messaging me at this hour because you're dying.
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ggggg
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Astarion. Send "yes" if you're dying, and "no" if I can go back to bed.
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1/2
[ Well, Shadowheart's still a little cross, but considerably less so now. ]
Can you read?
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💓💞💖🎀💕
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🖤💜🖤
🎀
💗🛌
text - un: q
I'm beginning to think you were teasing me.
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Maybe they think you're a goose.
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I’d happily accept clumsy seal, but not a goose. I don’t have feathers!
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Have any of the babies hatched?
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I see one - four more of the clutch left.
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Would you send me a picture?
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[ and he attaches an image - one of the eggs just cracked open, an ugly little shape of a small bird within. it's a little blurry, the photo taken from afar and zoomed in. ]
There. We should name it.
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[ The picture of the ugly little thing does make her smile; shame that Quentin doesn't get to see it. ]
Do you know Astarion? He named his hen after me.
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I've heard the name - maybe we have met.[ he can recall the name and the face from the game of werewolf, but that's not a good judge of anyone, is it? ]
Why a chicken?
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For her regal nature and mysterious past, I imagine.
text
text ❖ @shadowheart
I take it you're new?
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My name and the hen's are both Shadowheart, though I did come first.
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Is there an animal you'd like to have named after you? If drinks go well enough, I could win you one at the fair.
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I'll leave the choice to your no doubt excellent skills at the coconut shy. But that's a yes to a drink?
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It's a yes. I work at the Hex Club, if you'd like to come by when I finish a shift.
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Well, I'm sure you're a very fine one. I can come by tonight, if that would suit?
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Try not to be too disappointed when I'm not a vampire hen.
📫 delivery.
[ ooc: there won't be a main log for the movie-watching (at least this time around) but folks are obviously free to icly respond, send their allotted invites, and/or play out their experiences if they so wish! welcome to the rebooted astarion's movie club! 🥳 ]
📦 delivery.
text ❖ @shadowheart
[ And she will be wearing it to each shift, for what it's worth. ]
If you ever would like to pick out my daily dress--or what goes underneath it--you know where to find me.
@stefan
It's late and he knows Damon will wake up in the morning, but he'd like to take care of the bite before Damon wakes up.
It's weird to be getting in touch with a number he's just been given. Usually, someone is just physically sent. But, this is a small manor and the network works differently. )
Shadowheart, my name is Stefan Salvatore. Gale pointed me in your direction. I know it's late, but he told me you might be able to help my brother, Damon. Until tonight he was dying of a fatal bite. I was able to reverse the fatal part, but he still has an infected bite leftover. I know you don't know me, but I'm willing to do something in return if you helped him.
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I know there was a revenant problem a few months ago, so if it's anything like that, I'm not sure I'll be much help. But Gale would know better than to send me a hopeless case.
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As far as I can tell, it's only an infected, untreated bite now.
I'd rather him not wake up with an untreated bite.
The venom is no longer fatal
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Are you saying that a werewolf bite cured his vampirism?
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✉️ text — un: astarion.
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But, more to the point: @ doublebluff , on the network. Something about a wonky shoulder.
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@salvatore; shortly before the end of the month
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But you're welcome. I'm amenable to drinks, whenever you're up for proper thanks.
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🎀
[ more bourbon for him, yay ]
text — @waterdeep, early july.
Astarion and I have returned from whence we came.
[ if shadowheart has joined them on the journey, she’ll understand. ]
How are you faring?
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I'd say that I've been better, but I'm not sure that's strictly true.
I never got the chance to thank you. For the orchids.
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Oh, are they all doing all right? I enchanted them, to be sure, but my magic’s faltered here before.
[ see: the entirely of june. ]
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[ Even though she wasn't in her room to look after them. And they're not blooms that last more than a day, either cultivated or in the wild. But they're in a small vase in Shadowheart's window nook, all the same. ]
Should we talk about
[ All of it? The visions they saw in the mirror, their fabricated history together. ]
Do you remember everything?
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I do. Well, up until Baldur’s Gate, as previously discussed.
[ though he knows she refers to the alternate history that overtook them. a temporal distortion. yet more illusory magic foisted upon them without a whisper of consent.
he swallows hard. ]
For what it’s worth, I had forgiven you long ago. Or he had.
[ for the pain of heartbreak. such is the way of love and youth both. it’s almost a novelty, to have experienced it young enough to cope with the pain, far better than he would when it came late in life. and, although a fondness for those he knew and loved in the other world remains, none can lay claim to his heart but the one who coaxed it back to life.
it makes it easier to sit at a remove, fingers entwined in astarion’s hair, even if his boyish fumbling seems no less embarassing from this distance.
(and if he doesn’t acknowledge their most recent encounter, their reflections changing in the night — well, one needn’t rush to unspool all at once, lest they entangle themselves anew.) ]
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But she doesn't have it in her. Gale has been her friend here, has seen her tears and hasn't abandoned her for them. It would be easier to push him away, but--where has that gotten her? Nothing but an empty path through the Shadowfell. ]
You were a good boyfriend. For what it's worth.
And the first one I can remember.
[ If her feelings for the other people she was with in that life are stranger to disentangle, Gale is uncomplicated, in a way. She doesn't have to explain to him that she doesn't have her own memories to return to, like everyone else does. That that mirror of her was more whole than she'll ever be. ]
Somehow I don't think we were encouraged to hold hands between classes at the Cloister.
So--thank you. I don't mind that it was you. Or him.
cw grooming
and even if she still possessed them — she speaks true. shar does not allow for sentimental attachments. for softness. for love. he feels impossibly touched, to have given her that (and be given that in turn, when mystra came to him as a boy; there were others after her, but none so all-consuming). ]
Oh.
Thank you.
I’m glad it was you, too.
[ and not another, with privileged knowledge of him when he was young and vulnerable and oh so gangly. ]
And I hope you know you can always unburden yourself with me.
[ that hasn’t changed. ]
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He offers Shadowheart a gentle reflection, instead. Easier to hear--and say--all of this in writing, where he can't see her getting misty-eyed again. ]
You're a good friend, Gale.
I can't remember having many of those, either.
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After my folly, only a few tried to visit me, and I suspect that was largely to see how far I’d fallen.
[ in fairness, the old gale had been self-aggrandising and prideful. he wouldn’t begrudge them the satisfaction now.
since shadowheart seems open to talking, he pushes a bit further. ]
I imagine this is all very difficult for you.
@stefan
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Though I suppose some of the products still do.
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( But, he's far too STEFAN to make one. )