[Though Gale persisted in being cautious as nights passed, he had found that he quite enjoyed Amelia's company— hardly a surprise, considering all they had in common, and her easy, direct nature was quite refreshing when compared to the duplicitous politicking many of his own kind preferred. He found that he looked forward to her company, enough so that it had almost begun to overshadow his concerns regarding Cazador's next move; he began to feel increasingly more at ease, smiling and laughing a touch more frequently than he had before, eager to hear about what she got up to during her day and what interesting business her clients may have brought her as he went about finding new volumes from his own shop to share.
Being a specialty store, his own business was staggered but steady, meaning they had plenty of opportunities to talk and when they so chose, and he had made sure to make note of her tastes. Wyll had been gracious enough to bring supplies that first night in addition to serving as his eyes during the daylight hours, and Gale had since made certain to keep more human food available in the kitchen above his shop. His tea supply had already been quite extensive, at the very least, and while remaining close to home so frequently may have seemed dull to some, it was equal parts cautious and strategic. The shop was defensible, warded by his own spells, and Amelia being there allowed others to see them in one another's company, supporting the idea that they did, in fact, have the arrangement that they were currently allowing others to believe they had.
It was only a matter of time before that bond was tested, especially with Cazador being the type who didn't take 'no' for an answer, but for now, the groundwork they had laid was serving them quite well. That they got along as well as they did only helped them that much more.
This particular evening, there was a reasonably long stretch between customers, and Gale was just surfacing from the back room with a warmed mug in his hand as the witch mused aloud. He pauses beside her seat on the counter, tipping his head slightly to one side as he examines the pot in her hand.]
I certainly think it would have its audience. There are many of us who miss such sights. While some such flowers exist, they tend to be quite rare— Shadowheart is quite fond of night orchids, for instance, but has more than once lamented that she never can seem to find any.
You'd be correct. There's a lot of flowers that bloom at night, but not many are native to the city.
[Amelia cups the miniature potted flower in her hands and lets it sit on her lap, contemplating the small bloom. The blossoms appear in blue-ish purple clusters, akin to mini-hydrangeas. She's only gotten this result recently after a long period of development. The color of the petals only intensified during the twilight hours, but for the rest of the evening and early morning hours, it wouldn't look as bright.]
And even if they were, the color variety is limited. Night orchids, though? Hm.
[She has a very notable habit of taking out her pipe when she wants to think deeply; from the curtain of her sage-green shawl, she takes it out, puts it between her lips, but doesn't make any smoke rings yet.]
That is rare. And a sign of good taste. You can pass that along to Shadowheart.
[He watches with faint amusement as she draws her pipe from its place within her shawl, his gaze following its path to her lips and, perhaps, lingering just a moment before his attention returns to the flower in question, now resting her lap.]
Your work so far is quite promising. Much of my own knowledge of plants is limited to their alchemical properties, but I can still appreciate the results quite well.
[He looks back to her, letting out a faint half-chuckle before lifting his mug to his lips.]
As for Shadowheart, I will be certain to tell her, though she may well be more interested in hearing it from you. She may not say so openly, but I think she could do with another friend or two, and while I haven't needed her in the shop while we've been here this week, she seemed curious about you.
[There are times when Amelia is very aware of Gale's reactions and evolving attitude towards her. Right now, isn't one of those times as his remark about befriending Shadowheart catches her interest.]
I wouldn't mind chatting more with her. She reminds me a lot of my sisters in my home coven. Her wryness would rival theirs.
[It need not be said, but it was clear that Gale and Shadowheart go way back. The witch has pondered over the decades of experiences both they and Astarion have shared. She can't imagine that all of it was very happy, but even after all this time, Amelia can't say she's at the point where she could outright ask Gale about it. They feel closer, sure, but in a casually comfortable way.
Well, she tells herself, that's just one of many bridges to cross and it's still ways off.
The witch dusts off some cracker crumbs from her lap and then slides off the counter, flower pot still in hand.]
Can I keep this little one in your shop? I wasn't going to bring any of my plants over, but I think by now it's okay for it to have a home here.
[He sounds only mildly surprised, but he's smiling when he lowers his mug. She must be feeling quite comfortable here, indeed— something he is certainly glad for.]
Of course. I would be glad to look after it, though I suppose you're here so often it will hardly be a necessity. I'm sure it will grab the attention of more than a few customers, as well.
[After a beat, he continues:]
I hope you don't feel that you can't bring other belongings here. It's important that you feel comfortable, especially as we remain— cautious.
[There have been a lot of nights in, despite all the city has to offer.]
[The remark catches him just as he'd been in the middle of taking another drink, and he sputters as blood goes down the wrong way— something that shouldn't be much of a bother given that he's long since given up the need to breathe, but that unfortunately causes a visceral reaction regardless.
He coughs to clear his throat, turning his head to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand so that he can compose himself.]
Ah— well, you would certainly be welcome to it, should the need arise. I don't know that I would be much of a host otherwise.
[She pretends not to notice the sputtering, but she knows what she did.]
I settle in easily for someone who hasn't lived in the big city for decades, don't you think?
[When she takes the bus by day, however, the witch does make the bus driver irate by paying for her fare in coins instead of just buying a pass, holding up the line.]
It's been a quiet few weeks too. That helps a lot.
[He's still clearly a bit flustered, but he's fighting to regain his composure. She absolutely must know what she'd done, but he's not so bold as to accuse her of it.]
It certainly helps that you're open-minded. Pragmatic, as well.
[That much has been made clear by her approach to their situation.]
That will serve you quite well in Baldur's Gate. As for the quiet... I'll take it as long as we can manage, though I'm afraid I can't bring myself to trust it. I remain uneasy.
[Her thumb strokes the minute petals of her flower absentmindedly while she continues to smoke.]
Mm. And you're correct to feel that way.
[Her expressions changes from its warm mirth into a serious veneer.]
There's been movement around my place. Wyll has been a good deterrent, but my garden isn't happy.
[A Green Witch is blessed with the ability to feel and hear the whispers of the earth through the life it hosts. For Amelia in particular, the flora the flourishes beneath her fingers have distinctive behaviors and purposes, something she mentions in passing every now and then to Gale.
And when she holds up her potted flower, the vampire should notice that it's shivering.]
Movement— Wyll mentioned some suspicious attention, yes. I imagine your garden has been able to tell you more.
[The connection she has with her plants is unlike any he had experienced during his living years, even steeped in the arcane as he was, but it has become clear to him over the past week that for as much as the two of them have in common, their brands of magic are quite different. He finds himself increasingly curious about the extent of Amelia's ability, but it hardly seemed appropriate to ask for a more blatant display.
His gaze turns to the flower in question, and his brow furrows as he frowns, concerned.]
Even the flowers know to be on edge.
[Worrisome— but not wrong. He turns his head to follow the line of her pipe, but before he can say anything further, he hears the shuffle of feet beyond the front door, light but unmistakable. She had felt it before even he heard it, and he raises his eyebrows at her in question.]
That is absolutely uncanny, you know.
[He turns his attention back towards the doors as he feels every nerve in him go on the alert, only a breath before the person on the other side reaches for the handle to let themselves into the shop.]
Green witchery varies. Mine is particularly sensitive.
[As Gale opens the door, she pushes herself off the counter and sets the flowerpot down to be ready for the new guest.
The guest in question looks unassuming, even with their nearly white skin with sunken cheeks and pale blond hair. Their beady eyes glance back and forth as the door opens and they take their first few steps inside. He acknowledges Gale with a low head bow to show his respect.]
"Sir Dekarios. A pleasure to be here this evening."
[He is unmistakably a vampire, one of lower rank considering how he greeted Gale as his superior. His eyes sweep across the room to Amelia who is now completely stony in her expression and unreadable.]
"Am I perhaps interrupting anything? I'd hate to interrupt any feeding my lord is partaking in. I wish not to be rude."
["Unlike SOME witches," seems to be the under-the-surface message here.]
[There's no doubt in Gale's mind as to who this particular guest is an agent of— his power has a similar resonance to Cazador's, if significantly weaker, and it was only a matter of time before someone dropped by to investigate certain claims for themselves.
Even as Gale feels his muscles pull tense, he subtly sets his mug aside on the counter before he steps forward and deliberately, visibly brings a hand to rest over Amelia's knee in a way that he aims to have land somewhere between casual and possessive. He knows what unwelcome visitors are likely to be looking for, and body language always speaks volumes in these arrangements.]
How very kind of you. Fortunately for you, I prefer to keep such acts behind closed doors, rather than perform them publicly in my shop.
[There's a hard edge to his voice as he reminds their visitor that this is, first and foremost, a place of business.]
How can I help you this evening? If you are in need of my services, you are welcome, indeed. If not, there is little for you here.
[Notably, Amelia hasn't let anyone touch her ever since Adam passed away. It was involuntary, but it may have been an unconscious decision on her part. So when Gale's hand moves to her knee, it nearly gives her a start. For both their sakes, she suppresses the reaction and keeps her gaze on Cazador's underling who is observing them cooly. The witch is pretty sure he didn't notice anything.
Hopefully.
The underling's eyes fall upon her neck which is covered up by her shawl. Thank god she had pulled it up around her shoulders beforehand. He turns his attention back to Gale, a thin smile spreading across his gaunt features.]
"I've come bearing an invitation."
[The vampire reaches into his coat's inner pocket and produces an envelope and holds it out to Gale.]
"It extends to the young lady as well. My lord wishes, in good faith, to welcome and celebrate your new bond."
[Alright, it's hard for Amelia to hold back a derisive snort at "good faith", but she does hold her hand up to her nose.]
[Close as he is, he can hear the way her heartbeat quickens in that moment of surprise, brief though it may be, practically feel the vibration of it in the air between them, but he makes every effort to remain collected. His gaze hardens as he notices the underling's moving towards Amelia's neck, and he angles himself so that the underling's line of sight to her is partially blocked, posturing as if to communicate that she belongs to him.
He may not believe in such things, not the way vampires at large do, but he knows what their society expects to see.]
An invitation.
[He echoes the word, then coolly steps forward to accept the envelope. Cazador's wax seal is on the back of it, and Gale slices beneath it with a turn of his thumbnail before reading its contents— twice, thoroughly, before he lifts his gaze to Amelia.]
He's invited us to the opening of his new club. One of the most anticipated events of the season, if I recall.
[She's incredulous and it shows. An invitation to the lion's den is not a direction she's anticipated, but it makes sense. Cazador may not be taking a direct approach like the first time, but he certainly wasn't going to let them get away unscathed. One can only imagine that the vampire lord was seething at how the Green Witch escaped his grasp.
Amelia readjusts her shawl again with a short huff through her nose.]
That's very... Magnanimous of him.
[The other vampire nods slowly.]
"Lord Cazador's generosity is one of the highest honors one can receive."
[So you better accept or else.
Amelia thinks she's getting better at reading things between the lines.]
Many guests of the night will be there then?
[She's directing her question at Gale for this one.]
[Gale lets out a soft, thoughtful hum in response to their messenger's remark, not sounding wholly convinced, but knowing better than to say so aloud.
He knows what this is. Cazador means to demand proof, to see how they behave in public before important members of vampire society— to see whether or not they're bluffing, or if he might still have his witch. Invitations and challenges may as well have been interchangeable among his kind.
The vampire looks to his guest, offering her a small nod of confirmation.]
Indeed, the upper echelons of vampire society. It's been some time since I've found myself invited to such a gathering— we've garnered ourselves quite a bit of attention, indeed.
[Cazador's messenger smiles thinly.]
"You would be most honored guests, on this occasion. For Mystra's Chosen to enter into such a pact is worthy of such attention. Your power and potential are well-remembered by our master, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep."
[The former wizard feels the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth at the mention of Mystra's name, his former title— yes, he had a feeling that would come up sooner rather than later, as well. For him to bond with a witch was a bold move, politically. It gave him the potential to appear a threat, to some.]
[There it is, Mystra's name again. In the time following their pleasant discussion about their situation, Amelia refreshed her memory about the esteemed vampire lady. Her magic prowess was admired and respected among witches, but she remembers other stories too, ones with a less generous view. Mainly, the ones regarding how Mystra chose her lovers, which in itself isn't uncommon for such a long-lived being. It's the aftermath of such affairs that leave the other party in a lesser state, becoming someone forgotten and pitiful and just another member added to the forces of the night while Mystra found a new jewel.
It made her understand Gale Dekarios just a little more.]
Wherever Gale of Waterdeep goes, I shall follow.
[She figures that a subservient response is best for this situation. Personally, Amelia feels too dated for a club scene (look, it's just a vibes thing, she feels grandma), but any indignant refusal on her end would give Cazador's man too much ammunition.
Speaking of, he nods, pleased.]
"Good. I shall let my master know that you will be in attendance. Thank you for your time and have a blessed evening."
[He turns to leave, but before he takes a step out the door, the vampire pauses to leave one last remark without turning to face them.]
"... The air here. It smells quite clean."
[And then he leaves without another word. Amelia's shoulders remain tense until he's completely out of sight.]
[Only once the other vampire has let the door close behind him and Gale has heard their footfalls move away from the shop does he let out a long sigh, his shoulders dropping forward as he gives up his posturing. He casts Amelia a worried glance, shaking his head.]
I'm afraid not. Rumors still work in our favor, and we're keeping up appearances, but I guarantee this invitation is meant to call our bluff in public— or, if he can't, no doubt he has something else up his sleeve.
[He scrunches his nose for a brief moment, the messenger's departure having left him rankled. That the other vampire had remarked on the scent in the air, or lack thereof, was perhaps a bit classless, but something that would need to be addressed.]
Would that vampire senses respected privacy more than they do, but I suppose we cannot help what we see, hear or smell— or don't.
Mm. Understandable, coming from the undead who want to indulge in order to feel a semblance of being alive.
[Amelia rolls her shoulders and stretches her neck as she replies casually to Gale.]
Give me a few years, and I might have one. I don't like coercing the earth too much, lest it backfires on me.
And to be frank, as distasteful as I'm finding Baldur's Gate vampires, deliberately causing allergies is probably too close to committing a biological warcrime.
[That earns a slight chuckle from him, easing some of the tension in the room.]
Admittedly, it would likely get you into more trouble than you already are— or we, I should say.
[They are, after all, a team now.]
It would better suit us to be clever. We do have an advantage that not every vampire has access to. I'm far from the only wizard to have been turned, and vampires have a rather varied skillset among them, but you and I both have magic on our side— and if I may be so bold as to say so, even in undeath I remain more skilled than many who follow the same path in life.
I can be clever. And at this point I trust you to be the same.
[Amelia crosses her arm in contemplation.]
But should we be casting any magic in this club? What kind of defenses, if any would Cazador have? I suspect he has his measures against witches. If not, then that would be several centuries wasted.
Magic would likely best be employed here, though there are some protective wards we might enable before we attend. I have a few ideas regarding alchemy, as well, but...
[He sighs heavily, glancing towards the door the other vampire had left through only moments before.]
I think this particular outing is going to test our acting skills. More than that, we may need to consider some... practical measures. That messenger won't be the only one looking for bite marks.
[Which brings them to a conversation that's been some time in coming.]
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sunfloras2024-05-18 10:26 pm
no subject
Being a specialty store, his own business was staggered but steady, meaning they had plenty of opportunities to talk and when they so chose, and he had made sure to make note of her tastes. Wyll had been gracious enough to bring supplies that first night in addition to serving as his eyes during the daylight hours, and Gale had since made certain to keep more human food available in the kitchen above his shop. His tea supply had already been quite extensive, at the very least, and while remaining close to home so frequently may have seemed dull to some, it was equal parts cautious and strategic. The shop was defensible, warded by his own spells, and Amelia being there allowed others to see them in one another's company, supporting the idea that they did, in fact, have the arrangement that they were currently allowing others to believe they had.
It was only a matter of time before that bond was tested, especially with Cazador being the type who didn't take 'no' for an answer, but for now, the groundwork they had laid was serving them quite well. That they got along as well as they did only helped them that much more.
This particular evening, there was a reasonably long stretch between customers, and Gale was just surfacing from the back room with a warmed mug in his hand as the witch mused aloud. He pauses beside her seat on the counter, tipping his head slightly to one side as he examines the pot in her hand.]
I certainly think it would have its audience. There are many of us who miss such sights. While some such flowers exist, they tend to be quite rare— Shadowheart is quite fond of night orchids, for instance, but has more than once lamented that she never can seem to find any.
no subject
[Amelia cups the miniature potted flower in her hands and lets it sit on her lap, contemplating the small bloom. The blossoms appear in blue-ish purple clusters, akin to mini-hydrangeas. She's only gotten this result recently after a long period of development. The color of the petals only intensified during the twilight hours, but for the rest of the evening and early morning hours, it wouldn't look as bright.]
And even if they were, the color variety is limited. Night orchids, though? Hm.
[She has a very notable habit of taking out her pipe when she wants to think deeply; from the curtain of her sage-green shawl, she takes it out, puts it between her lips, but doesn't make any smoke rings yet.]
That is rare. And a sign of good taste. You can pass that along to Shadowheart.
no subject
Your work so far is quite promising. Much of my own knowledge of plants is limited to their alchemical properties, but I can still appreciate the results quite well.
[He looks back to her, letting out a faint half-chuckle before lifting his mug to his lips.]
As for Shadowheart, I will be certain to tell her, though she may well be more interested in hearing it from you. She may not say so openly, but I think she could do with another friend or two, and while I haven't needed her in the shop while we've been here this week, she seemed curious about you.
no subject
I wouldn't mind chatting more with her. She reminds me a lot of my sisters in my home coven. Her wryness would rival theirs.
[It need not be said, but it was clear that Gale and Shadowheart go way back. The witch has pondered over the decades of experiences both they and Astarion have shared. She can't imagine that all of it was very happy, but even after all this time, Amelia can't say she's at the point where she could outright ask Gale about it. They feel closer, sure, but in a casually comfortable way.
Well, she tells herself, that's just one of many bridges to cross and it's still ways off.
The witch dusts off some cracker crumbs from her lap and then slides off the counter, flower pot still in hand.]
Can I keep this little one in your shop? I wasn't going to bring any of my plants over, but I think by now it's okay for it to have a home here.
no subject
[He sounds only mildly surprised, but he's smiling when he lowers his mug. She must be feeling quite comfortable here, indeed— something he is certainly glad for.]
Of course. I would be glad to look after it, though I suppose you're here so often it will hardly be a necessity. I'm sure it will grab the attention of more than a few customers, as well.
[After a beat, he continues:]
I hope you don't feel that you can't bring other belongings here. It's important that you feel comfortable, especially as we remain— cautious.
[There have been a lot of nights in, despite all the city has to offer.]
no subject
Thanks. If it does catch the attention of customers, you can do me a favor and point them towards my shop if they want more of where it came from.
[Smart businesswoman we have here. Some smoke begins to emit from the pipe (it smells like jasmine this time).]
Well, I'm comfortable enough as it is. I don't think I need to bring anything of mine here. Maybe a change of clothes?
[She blows some puffs of smoke at the ceiling and then glances at Gale.]
I think using your shower is a bit much, even for our situaton.
no subject
He coughs to clear his throat, turning his head to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand so that he can compose himself.]
Ah— well, you would certainly be welcome to it, should the need arise. I don't know that I would be much of a host otherwise.
[It's a polite answer, if nothing else.]
I'm— just glad that you feel at ease.
no subject
I settle in easily for someone who hasn't lived in the big city for decades, don't you think?
[When she takes the bus by day, however, the witch does make the bus driver irate by paying for her fare in coins instead of just buying a pass, holding up the line.]
It's been a quiet few weeks too. That helps a lot.
no subject
[He's still clearly a bit flustered, but he's fighting to regain his composure. She absolutely must know what she'd done, but he's not so bold as to accuse her of it.]
It certainly helps that you're open-minded. Pragmatic, as well.
[That much has been made clear by her approach to their situation.]
That will serve you quite well in Baldur's Gate. As for the quiet... I'll take it as long as we can manage, though I'm afraid I can't bring myself to trust it. I remain uneasy.
no subject
Mm. And you're correct to feel that way.
[Her expressions changes from its warm mirth into a serious veneer.]
There's been movement around my place. Wyll has been a good deterrent, but my garden isn't happy.
[A Green Witch is blessed with the ability to feel and hear the whispers of the earth through the life it hosts. For Amelia in particular, the flora the flourishes beneath her fingers have distinctive behaviors and purposes, something she mentions in passing every now and then to Gale.
And when she holds up her potted flower, the vampire should notice that it's shivering.]
See? This child is afraid too.
[She uses her pipe to point towards the doors.]
We have a visitor.
no subject
[The connection she has with her plants is unlike any he had experienced during his living years, even steeped in the arcane as he was, but it has become clear to him over the past week that for as much as the two of them have in common, their brands of magic are quite different. He finds himself increasingly curious about the extent of Amelia's ability, but it hardly seemed appropriate to ask for a more blatant display.
His gaze turns to the flower in question, and his brow furrows as he frowns, concerned.]
Even the flowers know to be on edge.
[Worrisome— but not wrong. He turns his head to follow the line of her pipe, but before he can say anything further, he hears the shuffle of feet beyond the front door, light but unmistakable. She had felt it before even he heard it, and he raises his eyebrows at her in question.]
That is absolutely uncanny, you know.
[He turns his attention back towards the doors as he feels every nerve in him go on the alert, only a breath before the person on the other side reaches for the handle to let themselves into the shop.]
no subject
Green witchery varies. Mine is particularly sensitive.
[As Gale opens the door, she pushes herself off the counter and sets the flowerpot down to be ready for the new guest.
The guest in question looks unassuming, even with their nearly white skin with sunken cheeks and pale blond hair. Their beady eyes glance back and forth as the door opens and they take their first few steps inside. He acknowledges Gale with a low head bow to show his respect.]
"Sir Dekarios. A pleasure to be here this evening."
[He is unmistakably a vampire, one of lower rank considering how he greeted Gale as his superior. His eyes sweep across the room to Amelia who is now completely stony in her expression and unreadable.]
"Am I perhaps interrupting anything? I'd hate to interrupt any feeding my lord is partaking in. I wish not to be rude."
["Unlike SOME witches," seems to be the under-the-surface message here.]
no subject
Even as Gale feels his muscles pull tense, he subtly sets his mug aside on the counter before he steps forward and deliberately, visibly brings a hand to rest over Amelia's knee in a way that he aims to have land somewhere between casual and possessive. He knows what unwelcome visitors are likely to be looking for, and body language always speaks volumes in these arrangements.]
How very kind of you. Fortunately for you, I prefer to keep such acts behind closed doors, rather than perform them publicly in my shop.
[There's a hard edge to his voice as he reminds their visitor that this is, first and foremost, a place of business.]
How can I help you this evening? If you are in need of my services, you are welcome, indeed. If not, there is little for you here.
no subject
Hopefully.
The underling's eyes fall upon her neck which is covered up by her shawl. Thank god she had pulled it up around her shoulders beforehand. He turns his attention back to Gale, a thin smile spreading across his gaunt features.]
"I've come bearing an invitation."
[The vampire reaches into his coat's inner pocket and produces an envelope and holds it out to Gale.]
"It extends to the young lady as well. My lord wishes, in good faith, to welcome and celebrate your new bond."
[Alright, it's hard for Amelia to hold back a derisive snort at "good faith", but she does hold her hand up to her nose.]
no subject
He may not believe in such things, not the way vampires at large do, but he knows what their society expects to see.]
An invitation.
[He echoes the word, then coolly steps forward to accept the envelope. Cazador's wax seal is on the back of it, and Gale slices beneath it with a turn of his thumbnail before reading its contents— twice, thoroughly, before he lifts his gaze to Amelia.]
He's invited us to the opening of his new club. One of the most anticipated events of the season, if I recall.
no subject
[She's incredulous and it shows. An invitation to the lion's den is not a direction she's anticipated, but it makes sense. Cazador may not be taking a direct approach like the first time, but he certainly wasn't going to let them get away unscathed. One can only imagine that the vampire lord was seething at how the Green Witch escaped his grasp.
Amelia readjusts her shawl again with a short huff through her nose.]
That's very... Magnanimous of him.
[The other vampire nods slowly.]
"Lord Cazador's generosity is one of the highest honors one can receive."
[So you better accept or else.
Amelia thinks she's getting better at reading things between the lines.]
Many guests of the night will be there then?
[She's directing her question at Gale for this one.]
no subject
He knows what this is. Cazador means to demand proof, to see how they behave in public before important members of vampire society— to see whether or not they're bluffing, or if he might still have his witch. Invitations and challenges may as well have been interchangeable among his kind.
The vampire looks to his guest, offering her a small nod of confirmation.]
Indeed, the upper echelons of vampire society. It's been some time since I've found myself invited to such a gathering— we've garnered ourselves quite a bit of attention, indeed.
[Cazador's messenger smiles thinly.]
"You would be most honored guests, on this occasion. For Mystra's Chosen to enter into such a pact is worthy of such attention. Your power and potential are well-remembered by our master, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep."
[The former wizard feels the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth at the mention of Mystra's name, his former title— yes, he had a feeling that would come up sooner rather than later, as well. For him to bond with a witch was a bold move, politically. It gave him the potential to appear a threat, to some.]
Naturally, we will accept.
no subject
It made her understand Gale Dekarios just a little more.]
Wherever Gale of Waterdeep goes, I shall follow.
[She figures that a subservient response is best for this situation. Personally, Amelia feels too dated for a club scene (look, it's just a vibes thing, she feels grandma), but any indignant refusal on her end would give Cazador's man too much ammunition.
Speaking of, he nods, pleased.]
"Good. I shall let my master know that you will be in attendance. Thank you for your time and have a blessed evening."
[He turns to leave, but before he takes a step out the door, the vampire pauses to leave one last remark without turning to face them.]
"... The air here. It smells quite clean."
[And then he leaves without another word. Amelia's shoulders remain tense until he's completely out of sight.]
We're not in the clear at all, are we?
no subject
I'm afraid not. Rumors still work in our favor, and we're keeping up appearances, but I guarantee this invitation is meant to call our bluff in public— or, if he can't, no doubt he has something else up his sleeve.
[He scrunches his nose for a brief moment, the messenger's departure having left him rankled. That the other vampire had remarked on the scent in the air, or lack thereof, was perhaps a bit classless, but something that would need to be addressed.]
Would that vampire senses respected privacy more than they do, but I suppose we cannot help what we see, hear or smell— or don't.
no subject
Do some vampires expect blatant bleeding and fornication from each other? Perverts.
[yeah...]
I'm going to have to develop a plant to muddle their senses at the rate we're going.
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[If she thinks she detects an exhausted note of withering defeat in his voice, she would be absolutely correct.]
Many are creatures of vice and decadence, and expect such displays from others, especially when it comes to...
[He pauses a moment, clearing his throat.]
Marking territory, so to speak.
[Right. Plants.]
Would that be possible in such short order? A muddling plant?
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[Amelia rolls her shoulders and stretches her neck as she replies casually to Gale.]
Give me a few years, and I might have one. I don't like coercing the earth too much, lest it backfires on me.
And to be frank, as distasteful as I'm finding Baldur's Gate vampires, deliberately causing allergies is probably too close to committing a biological warcrime.
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Admittedly, it would likely get you into more trouble than you already are— or we, I should say.
[They are, after all, a team now.]
It would better suit us to be clever. We do have an advantage that not every vampire has access to. I'm far from the only wizard to have been turned, and vampires have a rather varied skillset among them, but you and I both have magic on our side— and if I may be so bold as to say so, even in undeath I remain more skilled than many who follow the same path in life.
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[Amelia crosses her arm in contemplation.]
But should we be casting any magic in this club? What kind of defenses, if any would Cazador have? I suspect he has his measures against witches. If not, then that would be several centuries wasted.
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[He sighs heavily, glancing towards the door the other vampire had left through only moments before.]
I think this particular outing is going to test our acting skills. More than that, we may need to consider some... practical measures. That messenger won't be the only one looking for bite marks.
[Which brings them to a conversation that's been some time in coming.]
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kicks life and brain in the butt
joins you in the kicking!
we're that jojo kicking meme now
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