helluvamess | [tlv] character inbox

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"If you're hearing this then I can't be fucked answering right now or some other shit-covered fuckwich is going down on this boat so I'll get back to you when the fuck I can!"

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[The door to Blitzø's cabin looks like a typical shitty apartment door. Inside is pretty much exactly a shitty apartment. The door marked "Loona's room" does not open when tried and it appears that Blitzø himself sleeps on the couch. The walls are covered with images and drawings of horses, however every picture of Blitzø has his face scribbled over.]

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[Blitzø nods and heads for Astarion's room without wasting any more time, worried for what the vampire might be avoiding showing him.

He knocks at the door, although the meowing of a large kitten who wants to get down and explore is probably loud enough to herald his arrival.]

Honestly, his cabin is fine. The only thing Astarion hates about it right now is the memory of exploring it in Cazador's body, seeing it through his eyes. His old master's clawed hands on his possessions.

It doesn't feel like it's his any more.

He opens the door. Aylin meows even louder and squirms in Blitzø's grasp, and Astarion reaches to take her in his arms before he's even conscious that he's moving.

"...I didn't think I'd be thanking someone for breaking into my room, but - I'm in your debt, darling."

"Figured it wasn't your room at the time so it didn't count." His gaze flicks over Astarion, looking for signs of... fuck, revenge attack from an inmate or some kind of fucked up trap left by Cazador or something. He wasn't sure what exactly but wouldn't put it past him. It's only if Astarion seems fine, physically anyway, that Blitzø relaxes a little.

"Sorry I didn't kill him for you."

Astarion steps back to let him inside. He does - physically - seem fine.

"Take it from me, my dear - even if you'd brought a few friends to help, it would have been quite the task." He gently sets his kitten down on the bed. "John, admittedly, could have managed it. He just chose not to."

Astarion's wording is odd, had been from the beginning, and after Blitzø has wandered inside and jumped up onto a chair, he gives the vampire a curious look. "How do you know what happened anyway? Cause I wasn't gonna fucking tell you I ran into Cazadork."

Astarion lifts an eyebrow - he's clearly wondering why not, but doesn't ask.

"I remember all of it. I remember...being him."

Of course that's how it worked. Blitzø mutters a curse and drags a hand down his face as he wishes, for not the first or last time, that he could just get some one on one time with the Admiral and some kind of weapon.

"Guess that's gonna be some shit to deal with. You better not be going around fucking apologising to people or some fucking dumb idea like that though."

Astarion barks a harsh laugh.

"Oh, like that new warden bleating about his pathetic ex-lover? Absolutely fucking not."

"Thank Satan. Cause honestly, if you did I'd probably assume this was some other Admiral trick and have to, fuck I don't know. Tie you to a chair until we got whatever it was out of you."

He watches Astarion cradling the kitten for a moment and wonders what else Cazafuck had done and what other memories Astarion has now that aren't his.

"So... do you like, sleep? Get nightmares? That kind of shit gonna be a problem now?"

"Elves don't sleep, or dream. I spend a few hours a night in a meditative state, and - I relive memories from my life so far. So let's just say there's quite a lot for this new nonsense to get lost in."

"Yeah, that sounds fucked up." He's not sure if that's better or worse than dreaming. Like sure, sometimes dreams were about good shit but also sometimes they could be a lot worse than memories were.

"So you're saying you're totally fucking fine and none of what he did got to you?"

"No. I'm saying that a shit week courtesy of the same man who inflicted a shit lifetime on me just...feels like more of the same."

He sits down cross-legged on his bed, and Aylin immediately jumps into his lap.

Blitzø stares at him for a moment, wondering how much is honest and how much is Astarion burying it, but eventually shrugs.

"If you're sure. But you know... I'm always ready to get fucking hammered and kill some shit in the Enclosure if you wanna."

Astarion hums thoughtfully.

"...I won't lie, that does sound like it's got some appeal. How was your week, anyway? Were you replaced?"

"Nah just got my ass kicked and dealt with everyone else being fucking gone and shit and, you know, Stolas and I aren't talking or anything but it's fine, all of it's just great."

He's so fine that Blitzø jumps down from the chair to pace around Astarion's room, glaring at the floor.

He just watches him for a few moments.

"...I know what you'll say if I ask whether you want to talk about it. But if you just want to get it off your chest, I'm listening."

Edited 2024-06-19 11:28 (UTC)

"There's nothing to talk about," Blitzø insists, but he keeps pacing and, after a breath, more just tumbles out of him.

"I mean, I don't even fucking know why we're not talking? I got my arm broken by the new guy and I asked Stolas if he could fucking do magic shit on it or whatever and then he got all pissy that I didn't say it got broken and dragged my ass to the infirmary since he couldn't do anything about it, then I mentioned Florian had healing shit but I didn't want him involved and Stolas fucking just... calls him up and asks him to come around? And then he tells me he's fucking leaving too and acts like I fucked up and I don't even know what the fuck I did wrong!"

As he dumps it all out there, Blitzø keeps pacing, waving his arms around to punctuate points and lashing his tail in the air.

"I mean, what the fuck is his problem?"

Astarion clears his throat gently.

"...If that isn't completely rhetorical, I do have an answer."

Blitzø growls but stops pacing, although he's still agitated and struggling to bring himself back under control.

"Well what the fuck is it?"

"He's extremely powerful in your world, yes? A prince, a higher devil. Now he's been - reduced, to say the least. He's an inmate, his powers have been limited, his authority has been stripped from him - and now he can't even help you, to no small extent because you're not telling him you might need it. His feelings are bruised, so he backs away."

"That makes no fucking sense, since when has Stolas ever wanted to help me with dick?" He rolls his eyes, because clearly Astarion is just straight up wrong here.

"The most he wants is me to help him out by fucking his feathered ass. He's probably just mad I couldn't do it then."

"Blitz. Darling. That doesn't make any sense either, since I assume you could have fucked him with a broken arm if you'd wanted to." Astarion rubs the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. "If you could imagine yourself in a world where Stolas is interested in more than sex, what might his behaviour tell you?"

If he could imagine himself in a world where Stolas was interested... in him? Blitzø stares at Astarion for a moment, and the uncertainty on his face says volumes of how difficult that idea is. It isn't that he doesn't think Stolas is nothing more than a sexed up royal demon, but he can't fathom wanting him of all people.

"I don't know," he answers, folding his arms defensively and glaring at the wall instead of Astarion. "Fuck, maybe he just hates Florian."

"Maybe. But I don't love you thinking so poorly of a friend of mine," Astarion sighs.

"I didn't mean I hate Florian," Blitzø retorts. "And I don't think poorly of him either! O-or Stolas."

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