(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

[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.

[ancunin]

Of course I'm a Summoned!

[ Batstarion scurries his way behind Jacob's back where he (hopefully) can't grab him. ]

I am not - nevermind. Just - go stand next to that worktable!

[ Which table he means is probably unclear, since Jacob likely can't see where he's pointing with his little wing. But any worktable will do as a platform for him to hop off... ]

[rookvision]

[He can't reach back that far, so he can't grab at the bat. Lucky Batstarion!]

Apologies, then, for not immediately thinking that some random bat is a Summoned. [His tone is dry as dust, but he follows instructions and goes to stand next to the nearest worktable, setting his hand on the edge so the bat can use his arm as stairs to climb down.] Next time I see a bat flying around, I'll be sure to use whatever we're calling this [gesturing to the words being scrawled on the nearest flat surface,] to ask it if it's actually a person.

[A beat.]

Do you know how to turn back from this, or...?

[ancunin]

Sending. Message. Whatever.

[ He comes from a realm that has names for spells like this, but he doesn't actually pay attention to what the other Summoned call their mind-script.

Anyway, that's the least important part.

Now that he's fairly certain Jacob isn't going to fling him out the window, Batstarion scrambles back down his arm and settles on the worktable, his fur fluffed out aggressively in all directions. ]

Don't you think if I did I wouldn't be I would have done so already? Gods above, I swear you people -

[ Whatever insult he meant to throw is interrupted unceremoniously by an invisible and silent timer for this transformation spell.

In the blink of an eye Jacob will go from staring at a puffball with wings to a pale man (thankfully still clothed) stretched haphazardly on his stomach across the table, wide-eyed and confused, the items on said table very suddenly displaced onto the floor to roll about. ]

Ah... [ he glances up ungracefully at Jacob. ] Hello.

[rookvision]

I don't know shite about how this sort of magic works, the only other time I've tried anything like it was—

[—back when we all thought we were gods, but that doesn't come out of his mouth because all of a sudden, Astarion's on the table and Jacob's reflexes are the only thing saving two of the items from hitting the ground. The rest clatter onto the floor.]

Well done, you've figured it out! [He means it, sardonic as it sounds.] I take it this doesn't usually happen to you, then?

[ancunin]

[ He winces at the mess - if only because he knows he'll have to clean it up. No one would just leave anything important laying around...

He begins to lift himself out of his sprawl and into a sitting position, legs hanging off the side of the table. ]

No. Surprisingly. It does not.

[ Happen to him often. He sighs, eyeing Jacob. ]

Are you... ah, here for an order? [ Ignoring that he was a bat just a second ago... ]