PSL — EXSANGUE

[corporeity]

— TEXTS, PROMPTS, STARTERS

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[corporeity]

[ Gale stills for a long moment, whirring thoughts and ever-shifting limbs frozen by Astarion’s words as much as his hands. Even more unexpected than Astarion paying him a sincere compliment — sweet, has anyone ever thought him sweet, with his damnable ego — is the use of his name. His actual one. A tender feeling blossoms low in his chest.

If not for Astarion’s hand at his chin, he’d duck his head. As it stands, he casts his eyes downward. ]

Perhaps. [ slowly, ] No one calls me by that name anymore, you know. [ Only Tara insists upon it. ] I’ve been Gale of Waterdeep for some time now. As long as I’ve been Mystra’s chosen. [ a faint wince, as he corrects himself. ] Longer, now. Cuts a finer figure, doesn’t it?

[ An archmage of considerable renown, the youngest graduate in Blackstaff’s hallowed history, Gale of Waterdeep. ]

[exsangue]

[ In some ways, Gale is delightfully easy to fluster, and that might be a part of why Astarion likes him. But Astarion doesn't anticipate this reaction to his name, the way he goes a little shy. ]

Hm. [ Astarion lifts Gale's chin, as if appraising him. He knows - perhaps too intimately - what a name means to a powerful wizard, feels a twin magnetism and revulsion toward the trappings of it. Astarion has been spawn and pup and vermin more than his own name, these past two hundred years. ]

You can be whomever you like with me. [ Releasing Gale's chin, twining their fingers instead. ] We can even play pretend, if you're into that sort of thing.