[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.]
[For his part, Gale looks hesitant about venturing further— the subject is a delicate one.]
The good news is that no other vampire ought to be able to tell if you've been granted marks— that, they have to take our word for, and it's early enough in our 'arrangement' that no one should expect any grand displays of power. They mean to appraise us— Cazador wishes to see that our bond is genuine, and others will wish to know if this partnership makes us a threat.
[Makes him a threat, specifically, but given that he has no political aspirations, only the most paranoid vampires would likely be deeply concerned.]
Performance will be the name of the game. They will want to see— behavior that implies possession.
[While he doesn't seem particularly happy about that, the next part does give him pause, and there's a heavy moment of silence before his gaze meets hers, earnest.]
I'll need to bite you. At least enough to leave a mark before we go, but I wouldn't put it past Cazador to 'encourage' us to make a display of it in person. I don't— [He pauses another moment, furrowing his brow before admitting:] I don't typically drink from... people.
[Her face is... Neutral. Hard to read. A hand moves to her face as she starts to get lost in deep thought.
They've been given a wide berth from their enemies and from each other and she thinks she has taken it for granted. Amelia had flippantly said that she was fine with growing their bond, but in a way, it was with the assumption that aside from surface attraction, they'd probably be just friends.
Vampirism doesn't really give her that wiggle room that she's so accustomed to as a witch. She has power and bared her metaphorical fangs. Gale has his underground "celebrity" and her being by his side had a significance she hadn't felt until now.
He gazes at her now, not with hunger, but with that earnestness that shows the remnant of a human life, something he's held onto for centuries.
And against her better judgement, it chips away at her avoidance of touch.
After an unsettling amount of silence, Amelia finally speaks up.]
[The question gives him pause, but only for a moment, and only because he spends that moment trying to intuit where she may be headed with this. After the space of a single heartbeat, he nods and steps forward, his brow still slightly furrowed as he holds his hand out to her, palm-up.]
Of course.
[She has put an unimaginable amount of trust in him. Whatever she has in mind, he trusts her, as well.]
[Amelia takes his offered hand in her's and she stares intently at the lines of the palms. One can almost mistake it for her trying to do palm-reading, but it is what it looks likeโ just looking.
More importantly, her thumb moves to his wrist, pressing against it curiously.]
... Huh. There really is no pulse.
[Her vampiric neighbors back in Blackgale were friendly, but never close. The only person with whom she ever shared her touch with, both casual and intimate was Adam. To hold Gale's hand, someone whom she's friendly with, but still not close enough, is a foreign sensation.
Dead versus alive.
But he stands before her, while Adam is long gone.]
[He watches her with curious interest, and indeed initially mistakes her intention and guesses what's to come might be magical in nature— but instead, she simply looks, the light brush of her thumb against his pulse point curious in its own right.
He's no stranger to casual touch, but it's been a long while since he had been touched by someone alive— his choice not to feed from humans was not one made out of moral standing, but because the act of feeding itself felt too intimate to him to share so freely. Human blood that had been donated, supplemented with that of animals, suited his needs just fine, but as a result, he'd not had the opportunity to touch someone whose heart still beat in years.
Amelia's touch is light and strangely warm, a foreign feeling so long after his own heart had stop beating.]
I'm afraid not. It left me long ago.
[Hers, however— he can hear it from where he stands, clear as day.]
[As a pair, they are a considerable threat. His and her magic, her ruthlessness against the undead and his experience and higher status opened up many possibilities. They could stand a chance against other vampire lords, take hold of Baldur's Gate, and change the fabric of how mortals and vampires interacted. Maybe for the better.
But she didn't want anything grand. She never did. Amelia Steinbeck had been happily married and lived a humble life in her small town.
That life couldn't exist anymore now that Adam left her for a well-deserved rest and she's left with her choices that lead her to the multiple crossroads with Gale.
So now, she just wants to make sure.]
Gale? What are you existing for?
[She covers his hands in both of hers and giving it a squeeze.]
Greatness? Power? A quiet life where you're unseen?
I'm still figuring things out for myself, but I'm very certain about several of them.
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sunfloras2024-05-18 10:26 pm
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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.
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[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.
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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.
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[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.]
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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.]
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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.
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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.]
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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.
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[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.]
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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.
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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?
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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.
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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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[She repeats him and puffs up her cheeks before letting out another breath.]
Alright Gale. What do the perverts expect to see?
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The good news is that no other vampire ought to be able to tell if you've been granted marks— that, they have to take our word for, and it's early enough in our 'arrangement' that no one should expect any grand displays of power. They mean to appraise us— Cazador wishes to see that our bond is genuine, and others will wish to know if this partnership makes us a threat.
[Makes him a threat, specifically, but given that he has no political aspirations, only the most paranoid vampires would likely be deeply concerned.]
Performance will be the name of the game. They will want to see— behavior that implies possession.
[While he doesn't seem particularly happy about that, the next part does give him pause, and there's a heavy moment of silence before his gaze meets hers, earnest.]
I'll need to bite you. At least enough to leave a mark before we go, but I wouldn't put it past Cazador to 'encourage' us to make a display of it in person. I don't— [He pauses another moment, furrowing his brow before admitting:] I don't typically drink from... people.
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[Her face is... Neutral. Hard to read. A hand moves to her face as she starts to get lost in deep thought.
They've been given a wide berth from their enemies and from each other and she thinks she has taken it for granted. Amelia had flippantly said that she was fine with growing their bond, but in a way, it was with the assumption that aside from surface attraction, they'd probably be just friends.
Vampirism doesn't really give her that wiggle room that she's so accustomed to as a witch. She has power and bared her metaphorical fangs. Gale has his underground "celebrity" and her being by his side had a significance she hadn't felt until now.
He gazes at her now, not with hunger, but with that earnestness that shows the remnant of a human life, something he's held onto for centuries.
And against her better judgement, it chips away at her avoidance of touch.
After an unsettling amount of silence, Amelia finally speaks up.]
Would you kindly give me your hand?
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Of course.
[She has put an unimaginable amount of trust in him. Whatever she has in mind, he trusts her, as well.]
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More importantly, her thumb moves to his wrist, pressing against it curiously.]
... Huh. There really is no pulse.
[Her vampiric neighbors back in Blackgale were friendly, but never close. The only person with whom she ever shared her touch with, both casual and intimate was Adam. To hold Gale's hand, someone whom she's friendly with, but still not close enough, is a foreign sensation.
Dead versus alive.
But he stands before her, while Adam is long gone.]
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He's no stranger to casual touch, but it's been a long while since he had been touched by someone alive— his choice not to feed from humans was not one made out of moral standing, but because the act of feeding itself felt too intimate to him to share so freely. Human blood that had been donated, supplemented with that of animals, suited his needs just fine, but as a result, he'd not had the opportunity to touch someone whose heart still beat in years.
Amelia's touch is light and strangely warm, a foreign feeling so long after his own heart had stop beating.]
I'm afraid not. It left me long ago.
[Hers, however— he can hear it from where he stands, clear as day.]
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[As a pair, they are a considerable threat. His and her magic, her ruthlessness against the undead and his experience and higher status opened up many possibilities. They could stand a chance against other vampire lords, take hold of Baldur's Gate, and change the fabric of how mortals and vampires interacted. Maybe for the better.
But she didn't want anything grand. She never did. Amelia Steinbeck had been happily married and lived a humble life in her small town.
That life couldn't exist anymore now that Adam left her for a well-deserved rest and she's left with her choices that lead her to the multiple crossroads with Gale.
So now, she just wants to make sure.]
Gale? What are you existing for?
[She covers his hands in both of hers and giving it a squeeze.]
Greatness? Power? A quiet life where you're unseen?
I'm still figuring things out for myself, but I'm very certain about several of them.
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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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