audience: astarion

[mygod]

Comments

[mygod]

That would only be more offensive.

[ simply. ]

Though I do understand you a bit more. Which I'm sure you hate.

[haematocritical]

... [ a huff, and then a little sulkily: ] It's appreciated.

Ugh. The ordeal of being known, or something like that. It's easier, most of the time, just to leave it be.

[ imagine walking into therapy and going "so i was turned into a vampire 200 years ago, very traumatic, and then trapped in a hell from which i could not escape ever since! fix me."

astarion could never. ]

[mygod]

Perhaps. I am not a person who cares to be understood by others either.

[ but despite everything famine knows about therapy, they also wouldn't go. ]

However, I have seen the traps that people fall into when left to their own selves. How the trauma and hatred begin to rot away at their own sanity.

[haematocritical]

Believe me, murdering your tormenter does wonders.

[ it’s… not a cure all. but it sure does help. ]

[mygod]

So he's dead now? Congratulations.

[ time to throw a party ]

[haematocritical]

Very.

[ he sounds very pleased. and also relieved. very relieved. ]

I didn't get the chance to really enjoy the victory, before ending up here.

[mygod]

Ah, so that recent.

I suppose we are a little low on the champagne and fireworks.

[haematocritical]

The fireworks I'm less bothered about, but it's a shame about the alcohol. Maybe I should've popped a cork or something in some kind of celebration.

[ pffffbtbtbttt. ]

[mygod]

You could always put in a request and see what it gets you.

[haematocritical]

I’ll make do with the refectory. Although I guess I might change my mind in the next few days.

[ their weekends have been… busy. to say the least. ]

[mygod]

Decide quickly if you do. Though you've all seemed to slow down on your requests. It's interesting.

[haematocritical]

If any of us were asking for clothing, I think we had our issues sorted from last week. The selection was surprisingly good, although I didn’t see any dramatically appropriate cult masks in that clothing store.

[mygod]

You'd have to ask Pesto, I'm afraid.

[haematocritical]

About... dramatically appropriate cult masks? Why, did they make yours?

[mygod]

It's the type of inane bonding activity they'd enjoy.

[haematocritical]

I'm not very good at handicrafts, alas.

[ he's semi lying, he can darn a shirt. ]

And here I thought you picked all of yours out by yourselves or something. From the cult trader.

[mygod]

If I had a choice, I wouldn't bother to hide my face at all. It's cumbersome. Though anonymity has its own perks.

[haematocritical]

You can always take the mask off, honestly. If it’s as annoying to wear as it looks.

[ hm… ]

Oh? Not that I don’t agree, but what would those be?

[mygod]

I don't believe you've earned that.

[ no unmask from famine yet.... ]

It's wearisome for everyone to know exactly who you are purely by name. I didn't realize how refreshing it is to experience otherwise.

[haematocritical]

Suit yourself. I’m not going to argue with you if you want to keep up with your cult fashion trends.

… Mm. A little anonymity is quite enjoyable. A lot… well, it can wear you down.

[mygod]

Are you speaking to not knowing your own identity after being under the thumb of someone else for so long?

[ that is its own type of anonymity ]

[haematocritical]

[ just stab him next time, honestly. ]

... Something like that, yes. It's strange to be in such a huge city like Baldur's Gate and be a specific kind of anonymous. You can be anonymous in a big city easily, but someone will know. Recognise you.

[ ... ] When you're skulking the streets at night, it's a bit different. There's already an anonymity to that.

[mygod]

So you'd rather be known than endure that anonymity for extended periods?

[haematocritical]

Famine, my dear, I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Whether I’d rather or not had no bearing on anything.

[ … ] It was likely better for the situation I was in. But I quite like the feeling of people knowing you, when you walk into a tavern and the bartender recognises you. [ he’s not entirely sure he remembers it though, only what he thinks it might be like. ]

[mygod]

I am asking about your current state, you dunce.

[ now that his captor is dead ]

Though you answered the question eventually.