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[corporeity]

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@G.DEKARIOS

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✉️ text — un: ⭐️.

[thirsted]

[ He spots Gale when he arrives. (Hard not to, he'd say, when he always seem to catch the sun just so.) It's one moment, there and then gone. Gale getting out of his car, Astarion in conversation with someone else, though his bright stare seems to close the distance between them like an arrow. He smiles— and that's it, as he's taken by the elbow and ushered into the manor. But one moment is enough.

Later, in the afternoon: ]

look who the cat dragged in, just in time for me to take confessional and tell you how positively awful i've been.

[corporeity]

[ Gale saw him then — it’d be impossible to miss one so luminous, glowing even from afar. Weeks ago, he had thought to ask if Astarion would be here, for this trip, but then he’d felt too shy to say anything at all. (Hoping against hope he’ll find a new book in his chambers, petals pressed between the pages.) ]

Surely you haven’t been so terrible, though I would be glad to hear from you, regardless.
You look well.

[thirsted]

[ (This time, it's a copy of The Little Prince, with a rather bold choice — a red rose — tucked inside, with a short inscription reading: It seemed thematically appropriate. Though, if Gale reads through to the end, there's one other bloom tucked into the slim volume. Azure blue sage. I think of you.) ]

you've no idea, father. your toes will curl.
i look more than well, don't i? lovely? radiant? beautiful?
i'll settle for "nice," if the rest make you blush.

[corporeity]

You make me blush, as I’m sure you’re aware.

[ the fact of him, no matter the question and answer. he’s certain astarion strives to fluster, at this point. even something as innocuous as a gifted book, a dried bloom, warms his cheeks. ]

How about… striking?

[ a word that conveys awe without attraction, though the latter is — on the mind. ]

[thirsted]

[ He's glad, suddenly, that they're having this conversation over text and not in person. Through the remove of a cellphone screen, Gale can't see the way Astarion falters — of course he means to fluster the priest, in no small part because he wants (needs) to be wanted, or at least some clearer path through the bramble of thorns formed by the late nights, the walks about the grounds, waves that press against but never crest the boundary of chasteness. You make me blush. He doesn't know what to do with that, when he senses the arm's length still separating them. ]

you're lucky i'm in a generous mood.

[ A beat. ]

you look well, too.

[corporeity]

[ In that pause, Gale fears so much. Having said the wrong thing, having finally overstepped after a hundred instances of approaching the line and toeing along the edge —

But it passes. Nevermind that he drops his phone atop his chest, on reading the second half of that belated reply. ]

So you are.
I let the beard get terribly scruffy while travelling. 😅
But it’s kind of you to say.

[ typing dots ]

Have you any free evenings this week?

[thirsted]

you'll have to tell me all about where you've been.
pick a night, and it'll be yours.

[ Then, typed in a rush and sent before he can think better of it: ]

pick more than one if you really want to make me happy.

text 🌙 @SELENE

[nightsung]

I imagine you're the reason there's a queue in front of the chapel already.

I saw you in a dream last week, you know. Would you like to hear about it?

[corporeity]

[ ah. ]

The prodigal priest returns.

[ just some bible jokes for you. ]

Certainly, Jenevelle. I hope you know I always have time for you.

[nightsung]

It wouldn't be a proper Saltburnt fête without you, even if the festivities aren't always to your liking.

You and I were in a rowboat on the North Sea. It was night, a dark moon, the cluster of the Pleiades bright overhead. Venus nestled among the Weeping Sisters, a sorrowful evening star.

You were naked in the bottom of the boat, your wrists and ankles bound with black rope. I washed your hair with sea water from a crystal jug, and a star fell into the sea beside us, illuminating everything for one bright moment. You wanted to catch it but insisted upon remaining bound. I told you you could have one but not the other.

[corporeity]

[ whatever he expected — and he expected a lot from jen, who has only grown more esoteric in her fame — it isn’t this. a series of images that leave him aching without knowing why.

the holy father speaks to all, even those who do not listen, in signs and dreams, words and visions. he recalls a homily from an american church, visited not so long ago, where they spoke of the man who asks for aid from god but denies the boat that sails to rescue him — waiting for the divine and failing to see it, in his messengers.

it wouldn’t do to dismiss jenevelle, even if he did not care for her (and he does). he misses the sea and the stars both. one, at least, he’ll find here at saltburnt. ]

Did I choose, in the dream?

[nightsung]

[ No matter how long they've been apart, there will always be a small corner tucked away in her heart for Gale. A quiet shore with mournful seals that vanish beneath the waves when she watches them too long.

Shadowheart believes in soulmates, of course--she and Emmrich are two halves of one warm heart--but they come in all shapes, and not all are forever. Gale is a star in her own bright cluster, one she knows she'll find in the next life in one form or other. ]

I woke up before you could.

You'll tell me if the dream continues while we're here, yes?

[corporeity]

Of course, though I’ve been too tired to dream much, of late.

[ he only recalls fragments, upon waking. libraries and far shores, eyes tinted gold by the sunset — a hallway of blackest obsidian, where he’s sure to find his doom. ]

Hopefully I’ll not haunt your dreams to compensate.

@salvatore

[blooded]

Signore Dekarios, I have a gift for you. Will I have the pleasure of your company while we're both here, or should we schedule a meeting next month at the Vineyard?

[corporeity]

A gift from my favourite Salvatore, and I haven’t even made it to my rooms. What an auspicious start to my stay.

I’ve always time for you. That is to say, I’ve to tend the confessions tonight and tomorrow morning, but the Reverend Ashcroft will be sharing my usual duties from Thursday onward.

[ which is — fine. ]

[blooded]

The Reverend? Well. I suppose we are in England.

[ eugh, protestants. ]

Don't be too excited about the gift—it's as predictable as it's always been. Just as sincerely offered, though.

[corporeity]

Quite.

[ he didn’t want to be the one to say it! ]

I’ll be adequately enthused, then. Nothing too obscene.
Is the rest of the family here?

[blooded]

Yes, all of us—Stefano, Katherine, Teo. Have we told you about Roza yet? She is una miracola, you'll adore her.

Thank you for the prayers, by the way. For our father. We are very grateful.

[corporeity]

I’ll admit I’d heard rumours, but I’ve yet to meet her myself. I’m glad you’ve embraced her so.

[ and maybe fresh blood is what the salvatores need. ]

Of course. You and Stefano remain in my prayers.

[ with how grief, even for a difficult man, persists. ]

text

[nishtha]

Gale, are you available?

[corporeity]

[ guilt first, a pinch of indignation — then all the rest. ]

I am.
Would you see me?

[nishtha]

If you don't mind. I'd like to talk to someone.

[corporeity]

[ ah. ]

In a professional capacity?

[nishtha]

I don't need confession, Gale. Just you. If that's all right.

[corporeity]

[ just you just you just you — ]

Of course. I had hoped to reach out to you myself, but it seems you’ve outpaced me, as ever.

Would the solarium suit?