(oct and) september catch-all; open

[ancunin]

Who: Astarion and friends
When: Throughout the month
Where: Cadens, Nocwich, Farhill
What: Astarion goes about his daily business, first appearance of BATSTARION
Warnings: General vampire warnings for injury and blood-drinking. Full character content warnings here, I will try to add them to comment subject lines as things appear in threads!

Comments

CADENS ☼ Rio Enterprises, open

[ancunin]

[ The first time he transforms, it's entirely an accident.

The business is relatively back to normal now that the Heralds have come and gone, all that's left is making certain all the paperwork is back in order and the deliveries to the workshop are actually arriving when they are supposed to again. He's loitering around the Cadens workshop waiting on confirmation of one such delivery, when there's a loud boom! outside from nearby construction.

One minute he's lounging in his chair, drinking from a mug and reading the local gossip rag, the next thing he knows he's in the air, furiously flapping his... wings?

Anyone who enters the workshop will find a spilled mug of blood and a furiously squeaking little white vampire bat flying around the ceiling, crashing into walls and cabinets in a panic.

Alternatively, you might find said bat unconscious, possibly dead with its wings spread on a counter. ]

BAT!

[cryptsleeper]

Astarion? I retrieved a few new handbills for the shows in Ikorr this month. We have options, both serious and entirely for commentary.

[It has become a little tradition at this point - going into Ikorr and picking a few of the galleries to go to. As it turns out, Ikorr's modern art scene is both deeply silly and extremely beautiful, depending on what set of doors one walks through. Clearly there's no catering to the Summoned, and that part makes it all the more enjoyable.

The nice part is that many of the galleries have their little calendars of shows available to take home in the form of handbills. There's more than usual this month, and that's exciting.

Except Astarion has been replaced by--

--Alucard follows the squeaking. He knows what it sounds like, he has suspicions, but he dare not assume until he lays eyes on it.

His attention goes upwards, just in time to see a white bat smack into a cabinet.

How is this the second time he's found a friend turned into an animal by watching them flail and crash?

He's careful as he walks over, not sure if the crash has actually made Astarion fall on the ground or if he's just panic flying. Either way, Alucard has a hard time not sounding warm as he says:]

Well, congratulations on your wings

i need to make icons for this lmao

[ancunin]

[ The crash has made him fall to the floor behind a workstation, where for a moment there is no more squeaking or struggling.

However - as Alucard approaches, the little vampire bat that is Astarion bursts up in a panic, no longer stunned, and flies blindly into Alucard's face. ]

your really really do

[cryptsleeper]

[Okay, so now he knows how Jaskier feels. A face full of bat is, in fact, not pleasant. In fact, it hurts. Just a little.

But with a batstarion on his face, Alucard can also gingerly remove the creature and try to carefully, carefully nudge it into his other hand, palm up, slightly curved, ready to try and figure this situation out.]

Stop squeaking and sit for five seconds. You're fine.

i did it

[ancunin]

[ Batstarion struggles a bit in Alucard's grip, but once within the confines of his curved palm he seems to calm down enough, at least to get across a message: ]

I am NOT fine! I am nowhere close to fine! This is... this is...

[ ... not the bat transformation he had in mind when he was imagining himself as the Vampire Ascendent.

He wraps his wings around himself, giving the impression of an indignant cotton ball. ]

[judgmentbolts]

Alright, calm down, I'm not going to hurt you. You're lucky the cat hasn't seen fit to have a go at you. [ Cid has trapped the little bat under a paper popcorn bucket of questionable origin, holding it down with one hand. He's hoping the darkness will help, or at least that it won't be able to do much more damage to itself now that it's contained.

He doesn't actually expect it to understand him, but that doesn't stop him from talking to himself while he looks around for a better method of containment. ] Bloody Astarion leaving his dinner all over the workshop...

[ancunin]

[ The darkness inside the questionable paper bucket is in fact not helping to calm the creature inside as it begins to awaken. Cid might feel its tiny body pushing on the sides and hear alarmed squeaks.

Strangely, he'll also see this message appear in script on the table, traceable to Astarion by the name that is automatically scrawled in a flourish:]

LET ME OUT, FIEND!

[judgmentbolts]

Out of where exactly? You've left blood all over the—

[ Cid turns to the popcorn bucket slowly. ]

No. [ But it makes sense, doesn't it? The bat certainly resembles him.

He lifts the bucket to free his little screaming friend, not even trying to suppress a laugh. ] Astarion?

[ancunin]

[ As soon as there's a crack of light poking through, Batstarion wiggles through to freedom - and subsequently launches into haphazard flight, smacking straight into Cid's laughing face, wings smacking.

And if he bites him in the nose a few times in a panic, who can blame him? ]

hes dead

[techmaturgy]

[Viktor is not a stranger to the Purrfessor leaving him gifts--before her untimely capture at his very hands, she'd been a street cat, and even after adjusting to life in the workshop does a good job at keeping the mice away. This is not to say that he likes spontaneous presents of dead rodents left around the workshop, but he is at least used to it as a semi-regular occurence.

The small, fluffy white thing that he spots on one of the worktables as he returns from an errand is not a mouse. Upon closer inspection, it seems to be a bat. A dead one, actually, and though he's pretty sure he knows how it got here, he's not necessarily pleased.

He can't be angry at the cat, though, and when Viktor spots her nearby, he cannot resist a detour to scratch her little head.]

Did you catch that for me? [Though he is certainly affectionate with the cat when others are around, it seems he has a special tone of voice reserved only for moments when he is alone with the cat. He continues to use it, and a pet name that sounds like it might be in another language, while digging around for the hand broom.] What a skilled little hunter.

[The bat corpse, unless something strange and unexpected happens, will be unceremoniously swept into a waiting dustpan.]

[ancunin]

[ It's some sort of widlyl inappropriate dream, with Viktor's accented voice baby-speaking at him, possibly involving some roleplaying judging by the mentioned of catch and skilled hunter. Batstarion doesn't entirely grasp the reality of the situation until the push into the dustpan jolts him from his stupor. His wings begin flapping in a panic as he notices the wide eyes of an enormous cat staring down at him. ]

Stop! What are you doing?!

[ The message is very clearly in Astarion's handwriting. In his haste to escape the pan he falls right over the side and onto the floor. Little bat claws help him scurry up the leg of Viktor's pants to safety. ]

[techmaturgy]

[To Viktor's credit, he does see the words, and he does stop, though it takes him a moment to truly parse what may or may not be going on here. In that time, Purrfessor inserts herself, thrilled by the sudden flurry of activity and very much wanting to swat at Astarion's flailing wings before he forcibly removes himself from the dustpan and scrambles up Viktor's trousers.

He jerks away, a reflexive reaction having a bat scramble up one's trousers, very nearly unbalancing himself in the process. Purrfessor, still trying to get at the flailing animal, paces precariously around Viktor's feet.

He still doesn't know what's going on here.]

Astarion-- [Because Astarion must be messaging him from the back room, on his way to rectify this situation post haste,] --please come get your--animal?

[rookvision]

[Jacob pops his head in, because he’d heard a small commotion while passing by and he’s never been one to not indulge his curiosity over something, and says:]

Now, what’s going on—here…

[Is that a bat.]

Oh, hell—hang on, little lad, I’ll come and get you. [Oh no this is going to be the pigeon all over again, but he has to make the effort anyway, so Jacob reaches out to try and grab the bat before it can crash into a wall again.]

[ancunin]

What are you doing?

[ The affronted words will scrawl across whatever flat surface is within Jacob's peripheral vision as Batstarion only sees giant hands reaching toward him. In a panic he leaps over the hand and onto his arm, awkwardly scrambling up with his little claws. ]

[rookvision]

—wait, you're a Summoned?

[Bat? Summoned bat? What the fuck? Jacob wears enough layers that Batstarion's claws don't do much more than scratch at the skin, but he still hisses a bit in surprise as the bat scrambles up his sleeve.]

I'm trying to keep you from bashing your skull open on the wall, that's what. You keep flying around like you're drunk and it's only a matter of time.

NOCWICH ☼ open

[ancunin]

[ Generally, Astarion comes to Nocwich to meet his paramour - but in Oleuni Square he can sometimes be found perusing the market. He tends to avoid the stalls manned by werewolves, at least making an effort to hide the way his nose wrinkles.

He peruses an Ikorran merchant's shop for bloodwine, although he's been making his purchases directly from the vampire settlement itself these days, hopping the portal to Ikorr itself at least once during the Nocwich weekend. Here, he stops to speak with the merchant, and - perhaps oddly, whips out a small journal to take notes after departing.

At a leatherworker's stall he stops in front of their glove display, particularly the pricier side: pairs made of lambskin and deerskin, some embossed and other embroidered with designs of moons, stars and other flourishes. He's only window shopping, and so when he slips one glove on his sighs, admiring the supple fit and velvety lining. ]

FARHILL MINING CAMP ☼ open

[ancunin]

[ Astarion doesn't specifically take the caravan trip to the camp only to visit their fellow imprisoned Summoned, in fact, he doesn't realize they're there until after he arrives. He's made a habit of coming out here once a month, barring all out war and/or reality falling apart around them.

Newcomers might not know about the Summoned initiative to set up a medical clinic earlier in the year. While initially Astarion mostly took care of facilitating deliveries to the site - particularly air filtering masks and prosthetics from the workshop, every now and then he pokes in to the actual medical side of the operation.

You might find him at the side of a cot where an older woman is resting. Astarion gingerly presses his palm against her forehead for a minute, closing his eyes as if to concentrate. There's no outward signs of anything happening, nothing noticeable. When he opens his eyes again with a grimace he speaks to the woman, pulling his hand away as if from a fire: ]

Well?

[ The woman coughs, a dry sound, then nods as she reaches for his hand in what appears to be thanks. Astarion goes tense, appears to almost recoil before stopping himself, offering her a tight smile. He pats her hand and then slips away, perhaps to speak to one of the volunteer nurses. ]

closed to jaskier, nebulous time in september

[ancunin]

[ It's later in the evening when Jaskier's shop is closed that he slips inside, heading toward the back room. He's brought with him a bottle in each hand, both a different variety of blood liqeuer: one derived of a particular bloom from Nocwich, the other of spice and fruit similarly native to the island. Additionally, he's brought along a little notebook of flavors he'd found commonly amongst the wine merchants in both the Square and Ikorr.

The taste of blood evens out the ash of flavors favored by the living. Perhaps between the two of them they can sort something out.

It's quite a bit of research done for something he's won't entirely benefit frrom. But the company is always good. ]

I've come bearing gifts! [ he announces himself in a high tone, maneuvering through the doorway with his hands full. Jaskier should be expecting him. ]

[cointosser]

[With Astarion's inquiry earlier in the month having left Jaskier so intrigued, he's begun working with some extra pots in the back to grow and test several fruits he now knows of, but has never worked with. There's several pots filled with plants of various levels that he's been checking on -- several which need a bit of extra magic to contend with Cadens's heat and cold, and several which appear to be thriving.

Jaskier is expecting him, so when he hears the front door open and someone walking inside, he's quickly cutting a dragonfruit he's been working on into eighths. If he squeezes the juice out of it, makes sure no seeds are included...]

As have I! [He holds out a slice of the fruit, completely forgetting Astarion's penchant for not liking his plants, like he's going to drop it into his mouth. He's in focus mode, all right?] Ooh, are these your own bottles?

[ancunin]

Oh!

[ There is a warm smile on his lips, in spite of the offered fruit. He doesn't take it, obviously, setting down the bottles on the table next to the pots of plants-in-progress. Astarion hadn't entirely been certain Jaskier would be interested in helping when he first asked, he wasn't even entirely confident in this idea - so, it's a pleasant surprise to catch him like this, in the midst of his work. ]

These are imported - [ he waves his hand at the bottles ] - one floral, and one spiced fruit, both derived purely from plants native to their island. For... comparing and contrasting, I suppose.

[ And just for fun. He slides the little notebook from his pocket onto the table as well, with its list of popular flavors and vintages, and gives a curious look to the dragonfruit. ]

[cointosser]

[Oh -- right. Well, at least he can take a sniff, and then Jaskier stuffs it in his mouth. Mm. Yes. The perfect amount of sweet, he's fairly sure. He absolutely has never had a dragonfruit in his life otherwise.

Jaskier's eyes get brighter and wider.]

For contrasting, you say? [There's practically nothing better in the world than an attractive man offering him multiple free drinks.

For research, obviously.]

Well, you've come to the right place. I've quite the nose and tongue. [He plucks up a bottle, pauses, then adds:] For wine, I should specify. Which one shall we try first, then? I'm thinking enough glasses, I'm fairly sure I can pick out the flavours to recreate them. It may be a good place to start.

closed to haelva; october nocwich

[ancunin]

[ While they usually meet in square, Astarion has asked Haelva to find him at the outskirts of the Hunting Woods, somewhere quiet and secluded but far away enough from the woods proper that no beasties should harass them. Hopefully. He'd like to take her somewhere nicer after this... demonstration. Perhaps Ikorr, where he has business anyway - and perhaps she'll agree to spend the night at one of the inns.

He's waiting for her, leaning against an ancient, broken wall of stone - or the impression of a wall that had once been, like teeth jutting out of the land, an unnatural barrier between the woods and the moors. Alucard has helped him practice this new ability so that he at least has better control over both the change and his wings. He can't say the little body is graceful, but at least he's not so likely to crash into anything... ]

If you laugh, I swear... never again.

i lost this in my tabs but i'm HERE NOW

[durge]

( Haelva isn't sure what to expect from Astarion's request to demonstrate a new power given to him by this place. What powers she's been given have been small and simple, and she tends to rely on those she'd learned back in Faerûn over whatever the Singularty has given her when it's required of her. Except for their owlbear friend, of course, who she has kindly not summoned in order to not steal any attention from Astarion's show.

Though with his warning against laughing-- Haelva's lips purse as she attempts to swallow the grin that already threatens to spread over her face. Right. )

Am I allowed to smile, at the very least?

[ancunin]

[ As much as he enjoys the company of their fluffy, violent, nonverbal companion, he doesn't trust the little beastie not to snatch him out of the air for a snack.

Astarion wrinkles his nose at her teasing, although behind his put-upon expression she might notice a faint hint of amusement. ]

A small one might be permissible... but now -

[ He spreads his arms out, fingers splayed and lifting his chin. The transformation is quick, not unlike what she may have seen with their druidic companions - a small burst of magic and his form shifts from man to tiny winged creature. Said wings flap quickly to keep him aloft, a touch less frantic now than when he first attempted this, and he swoops a lazy circle around Haelva. ]

[durge]

( It is a good thing he warned her not to laugh, because she might have. The change is unexpected -- she remembers this being a talent that was reserved for true vampires and not spawn, but she had expected something a bit more.... vampiric. Instead of what appears to be a small bundle of white fluff.

It fits him, though, more than anything more serious and imposing. Astarion has always defied what one expects of someone like him, and in this way he's no different. Though she thinks that, should she say so at this moment, he may not take it as kindly as she means it.

But she does smile. And it is not a small one, sorry Astarion. )

You've managed to transform! ( Haelva is, at least, excited for him. She reaches up to try and coax him down into her hand so she can get a closer look. ) Is the form fixed, or is the size and species variable?