[ i'm rng-ing a location and voiding it because he ain't in the mortuary and my brain cells won't think.
but eventually the door will open, although astarion is clearly cautious of someone knocking on doors late at night. he does look a little less fight or flight primed when he sees it's camille though. ]
[ imagine him just rising up from the coffin like yes hello this is patrick.
welp.
she does manage to catch him off guard given he was probably asleep up to this point, and because i think alpha week should mean kisses, so he doesn't fully move away other than to shift his weight so he doesn't fall over and the automatic reaction of catching hold of the hands on his collar, when one expects violence over non-violent physical contact. ]
[ in another life, it happened exactly like that just for kabby.
well. he sort of expected that, but through the semi-fogginess of his mind and the general suspicion he has about things skulking around in the night, he doesn't pull away. there's a moment where his brain catches up, and then he's catching the hand going for the back of his neck and gently but firmly, and using that grip to ease her back a little. ]
[ well. something about this is oddly uncomfortable, but not because of camille’s actions themselves. but something about the actions reek of a sort of deep-rooting desperation that leaves him feeling… a little like he’s looking in a mirror.
when you need something, even though it might not be good for you. no matter what the reason. you need a body, any body, so you don’t get punished. it doesn’t matter if they’re kind, or if they’re awful — if they treat you well or not at all. you have to, you need to. so you just do.
he keeps his grip steady and firm. ]
That’s neither here nor there. What brought this on?
he’ll grip onto her hand for a moment and then—- starts walking. ]
Come on, we’re going for a walk.
[ because otherwise she’s going to run off and he has a distinct feeling that’s not going to be a good thing, given everything that’s happened over the past few days. ]
And I’m sure you are, but I’ll just nip this in the bud by noting there are good and bad reasons for propositioning someone, and I have more than enough experience with the latter.
[ he is the worst person for a blood pep talk and the worst person possible to play anyone’s hero but— well. hadn’t half of his problems come from the fact he’d never been able to bloody comprehend that someone would be willing to help him? ]
[He isn't letting go. Camille's too stunned to stop him, even as the indignation hits her more forcefully.]
For god's sake, what happened to not babysitting me? [They are marching. To where, she does not know. Thank god everyone seems to have stayed inside tonight.] You think I have bad reasons? Then fuck you, I can walk myself home.
[ please. he’s being pestered by that annoying conscience he has nowadays but he’s not nice enough to pat her on the shoulder, wrap a blanket around her shoulders and tell her there, there don’t cry.
he does bring them over to the pyre though and points at one of the seats. ]
After this weekend? Yes. I do. [ blunt as fuck. maybe a little below the belt, but he’s not cruel in how he says it. ] Talk to me.
[She doesn't sit. She gapes. Almost childlike in the petulance at how earth shattering a "No" can be. Words scream at her from each limb, the curve of her pelvis, her sternum.
[Then she's laughing. It's never a loud thing coming from her, and rarely joyous.]
I don't plan to spend my last week on Earth in amateur group therapy, Astarion. All of you — I can't keep talking—
[Her hands are trembling. Weak sings to her from her ankle, down where the letters turn illegible as they curve over bones. Very little space down there.]
I don't want to think. I don't want to think anymore. I don't want to be anything.
[ she is here, and she is still camille. whether this lasts? they don't know. they won't know until something happens. but he is not interested in being a part of someone else's destructive coping methods -- not now, not after everything. ]
...
[ the flames from the pyre crackle in the background. it's soothing, in its own way. ] If you don't want to be alone, that's something I can help with-- but not like that. I'm more than aware of the damage that can cause.
[She could be so much crueler about it. She's just so winded. Small. Pathetic, being sat down and patronized.
Camille wilts into a seat, hand to her face. Silent now, after that erroneous outburst. Why couldn't they have killed her after voting for Aqua? Did you have to be a teenage girl to get an ounce of mercy around here?
Yet she's here now. She has to persist. Even through sandpaper scrapes across her ego.]
...Speaking from experience?
[He probably had wished he was dead, after 200 years with that man. She's only done a sixth of that time without him and she's had enough herself.]
[ he watches her sit and then after a moment, joins her. ]
… Yes, actually.
[ he had. back when he’d failed to bring someone home and cazador and isolated him, trapped him, shut him away in a tomb and left him there until he’d deemed him sufficiently punished enough. three hundred and sixty five days.
when you are punished in that sort of way, you do not care who you lure back with you or how you do it. you just do because the alternative is unbearable and there is nobody you would go through that for again. whether they were kind to you, or whether they are decidedly unkind and deeply cruel. ]
Famine keeps bluntly telling me I need therapy. [ which like. wtf is therapy he’s an olde. ] Not that I know what that actually is. But I assume it’s a sign I’m somewhat of a walking mess.
I can't imagine what a put together person looks like.
[Rondo, maybe. Most everyone else was lying, or they carried their wounds honestly.
Astarion lied by omission. She's certain he'd say nothing if he'd had a choice. But here they are. Linked by uninvited peeks into their sad little lives. By their sad little fates.]
She doesn't dispute him. Maybe the degrees to which any person was a mess varied, but they were all sloppy, sputtering souls. Cars on quarter tanks of gas with a blown out tire.]
...I guess, speaking generally, "family" will do that to you. [That was the thing with vampires, right? It got a little incestual, who bit who. She'll assume he's to blame for the state Astarion is in.]
Mine did. [She thinks a moment. Are they really doing this? Fine. All right. She'll bite.] Hometown didn't help. Girls in Wind Gap have to find a way to play the game. Losing isn't a pretty option.
[Blood bonds are sticky things, born or bitten. But they don't have to be the only thing that defines you. No one has to be tied to them forever.
It's a mantra repeated ad nauseum to herself, when the sun sets and she needs the extra glimmer of faith.]
Some people don't ever have to play it that way. Sometimes I envy them. [She pauses. Dare she press on the bruise?] What did he do? That put you off sex?
If you don't want to answer that's all right. I've got my own stories, I don't need to know anything you don't care to share.
[ he probably could've done with drinks for these conversations, but the addition of alcohol to something like this? probably not the smartest idea.
he tilts his head back a little. ]
Darling, I didn't lure people back to his mansion with promises of good conversation. [ the rest he doesn't want to talk about, even with gentle prodding. the people he lured were not always kind. nor was cazador. ] But "put off" is a strong phrase. It was more a realisation I was still willing to grit my teeth and do something I didn't want long after I was out from under his thumb, somewhere he couldn't hurt me.
[ that realisation that something went so deep that even though he was "free", he was still dangling himself from cazador's puppet strings, moving the threads with his own hands where his old master could not. ]
[stares at how many mini bottles of vodka she goes through in episode one alone, YEAH PROBABLY NOT]
...Makes sense. [The methods. She hadn't given a terrible amount of thought to the mechanics of Cazador's sacrificial coven. There's been too much fuckery in every direction. But following the logic, if Astarion had to play manservant and fetch dog alike, what better way to draw in unsuspecting souls? It's the age old vampire lure.
It's the same bait she used to keep the heat off her. Better to take a little humiliation than to end up a real target. Like Faye Murray. Like so many other girls before or since her. Being different or standing just close enough next to it, both crimes punishable by improvised methods, by anyone who cares to mete out punishment.]
I think...once? Maybe twice in the last ten years, I've fucked someone with feeling. Not just to dodge something worse. [Facing a void. Facing violence. Facing judgment. Most matters with men can be easy out-manoeuvred if you opened wide.] It gets to be a habit.
I don't much anymore. Some guys put up with you keeping your clothes on for it. Others not so much.
[Her scars have spooked some men. She's careful. There are those intrigued by them, and it's those men she fears the most.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scrapdraught) wrote2024-06-09 08:28 pm
no subject
but eventually the door will open, although astarion is clearly cautious of someone knocking on doors late at night. he does look a little less fight or flight primed when he sees it's camille though. ]
Yes?
no subject
Anyway Camille doesn't give much preamble. Her hand goes to his chest, pushing him back inside as she walks herself in.]
Hey.
[She kicks the door shut behind her and reaches for his collar.]
no subject
welp.
she does manage to catch him off guard given he was probably asleep up to this point, and because i think alpha week should mean kisses, so he doesn't fully move away other than to shift his weight so he doesn't fall over and the automatic reaction of catching hold of the hands on his collar, when one expects violence over non-violent physical contact. ]
no subject
Anyway WOW FINE OKAY!!! It is Alpha Week. Camille smiles at the flutter of his hands, curling her fingers into the fabric beneath.]
Come here.
[She'll pull then. Taking him by the lips, moving one hand to the back of his neck if given half the chance.]
no subject
well. he sort of expected that, but through the semi-fogginess of his mind and the general suspicion he has about things skulking around in the night, he doesn't pull away. there's a moment where his brain catches up, and then he's catching the hand going for the back of his neck and gently but firmly, and using that grip to ease her back a little. ]
Camille.
no subject
What? [Her voice is low, teasing. It's all fine. Really, it's fine.] You got a girl? Boy?
[Can't really tell with some of these folks. Couldn't begrudge him, if that's the case. You liked what you liked.
Camille just needs something. Someone to stave off the bitter bite of night.]
cw: vague… references to cazador adjacent things just to be on the safe side
[ well. something about this is oddly uncomfortable, but not because of camille’s actions themselves. but something about the actions reek of a sort of deep-rooting desperation that leaves him feeling… a little like he’s looking in a mirror.
when you need something, even though it might not be good for you. no matter what the reason. you need a body, any body, so you don’t get punished. it doesn’t matter if they’re kind, or if they’re awful — if they treat you well or not at all. you have to, you need to. so you just do.
he keeps his grip steady and firm. ]
That’s neither here nor there. What brought this on?
no subject
It's not so much what he says. It's the expression. Recognition.
Her skin crawls.]
...Come on. Don't give me that look.
no subject
[ sadly, yes. recognition.
it’s hard to disguise the act of seeing through to the core of something, of someone, when that core is quite similar to your own. ]
no subject
All you had to say was no. I'm a big girl, I can take it.
[She makes to pull away. Leave. Get out, get out, get out.]
no subject
he’ll grip onto her hand for a moment and then—- starts walking. ]
Come on, we’re going for a walk.
[ because otherwise she’s going to run off and he has a distinct feeling that’s not going to be a good thing, given everything that’s happened over the past few days. ]
And I’m sure you are, but I’ll just nip this in the bud by noting there are good and bad reasons for propositioning someone, and I have more than enough experience with the latter.
[ he is the worst person for a blood pep talk and the worst person possible to play anyone’s hero but— well. hadn’t half of his problems come from the fact he’d never been able to bloody comprehend that someone would be willing to help him? ]
no subject
[He isn't letting go. Camille's too stunned to stop him, even as the indignation hits her more forcefully.]
For god's sake, what happened to not babysitting me? [They are marching. To where, she does not know. Thank god everyone seems to have stayed inside tonight.] You think I have bad reasons? Then fuck you, I can walk myself home.
no subject
[ please. he’s being pestered by that annoying conscience he has nowadays but he’s not nice enough to pat her on the shoulder, wrap a blanket around her shoulders and tell her there, there don’t cry.
he does bring them over to the pyre though and points at one of the seats. ]
After this weekend? Yes. I do. [ blunt as fuck. maybe a little below the belt, but he’s not cruel in how he says it. ] Talk to me.
1/2
Caught. Can't. Duplicitous. Cherry. Ripe. Wrong.
Vanish vanish vanish vanish.]
2/2 (cw self harm, allusions to suicide/death )
I don't plan to spend my last week on Earth in amateur group therapy, Astarion. All of you — I can't keep talking—
[Her hands are trembling. Weak sings to her from her ankle, down where the letters turn illegible as they curve over bones. Very little space down there.]
I don't want to think. I don't want to think anymore. I don't want to be anything.
no subject
[ this man is not a therapist. ]
For now, you are.
[ she is here, and she is still camille. whether this lasts? they don't know. they won't know until something happens. but he is not interested in being a part of someone else's destructive coping methods -- not now, not after everything. ]
...
[ the flames from the pyre crackle in the background. it's soothing, in its own way. ] If you don't want to be alone, that's something I can help with-- but not like that. I'm more than aware of the damage that can cause.
no subject
Camille wilts into a seat, hand to her face. Silent now, after that erroneous outburst. Why couldn't they have killed her after voting for Aqua? Did you have to be a teenage girl to get an ounce of mercy around here?
Yet she's here now. She has to persist. Even through sandpaper scrapes across her ego.]
...Speaking from experience?
[He probably had wished he was dead, after 200 years with that man. She's only done a sixth of that time without him and she's had enough herself.]
cw: suicidal ideation references/vague unpleasant assault implications
… Yes, actually.
[ he had. back when he’d failed to bring someone home and cazador and isolated him, trapped him, shut him away in a tomb and left him there until he’d deemed him sufficiently punished enough. three hundred and sixty five days.
when you are punished in that sort of way, you do not care who you lure back with you or how you do it. you just do because the alternative is unbearable and there is nobody you would go through that for again. whether they were kind to you, or whether they are decidedly unkind and deeply cruel. ]
Famine keeps bluntly telling me I need therapy. [ which like. wtf is therapy he’s an olde. ] Not that I know what that actually is. But I assume it’s a sign I’m somewhat of a walking mess.
no subject
[Rondo, maybe. Most everyone else was lying, or they carried their wounds honestly.
Astarion lied by omission. She's certain he'd say nothing if he'd had a choice. But here they are. Linked by uninvited peeks into their sad little lives. By their sad little fates.]
Cazador?
[As a cause. Not the well adjusted example.]
no subject
[ rondo is a disaster when you get him talking about anything slightly raunchy. ]
A lot of issues in my life can be traced to fucking Cazador, yes.
[ cazador would not be a well adjusted example. something something the circle of abuse and breaking it. ]
no subject
She doesn't dispute him. Maybe the degrees to which any person was a mess varied, but they were all sloppy, sputtering souls. Cars on quarter tanks of gas with a blown out tire.]
...I guess, speaking generally, "family" will do that to you. [That was the thing with vampires, right? It got a little incestual, who bit who. She'll assume he's to blame for the state Astarion is in.]
Mine did. [She thinks a moment. Are they really doing this? Fine. All right. She'll bite.] Hometown didn't help. Girls in Wind Gap have to find a way to play the game. Losing isn't a pretty option.
no subject
[ they sure are just chatting about trauma by the pyre while i learn camille is dead. ]
Everyone out for themselves is a fairly common way to live. More fool you if you're the one falling behind, usually.
no subject
[Blood bonds are sticky things, born or bitten. But they don't have to be the only thing that defines you. No one has to be tied to them forever.
It's a mantra repeated ad nauseum to herself, when the sun sets and she needs the extra glimmer of faith.]
Some people don't ever have to play it that way. Sometimes I envy them. [She pauses. Dare she press on the bruise?] What did he do? That put you off sex?
If you don't want to answer that's all right. I've got my own stories, I don't need to know anything you don't care to share.
cw: some assault references
he tilts his head back a little. ]
Darling, I didn't lure people back to his mansion with promises of good conversation. [ the rest he doesn't want to talk about, even with gentle prodding. the people he lured were not always kind. nor was cazador. ] But "put off" is a strong phrase. It was more a realisation I was still willing to grit my teeth and do something I didn't want long after I was out from under his thumb, somewhere he couldn't hurt me.
[ that realisation that something went so deep that even though he was "free", he was still dangling himself from cazador's puppet strings, moving the threads with his own hands where his old master could not. ]
cw: assualt references, self harm, alcholism references
...Makes sense. [The methods. She hadn't given a terrible amount of thought to the mechanics of Cazador's sacrificial coven. There's been too much fuckery in every direction. But following the logic, if Astarion had to play manservant and fetch dog alike, what better way to draw in unsuspecting souls? It's the age old vampire lure.
It's the same bait she used to keep the heat off her. Better to take a little humiliation than to end up a real target. Like Faye Murray. Like so many other girls before or since her. Being different or standing just close enough next to it, both crimes punishable by improvised methods, by anyone who cares to mete out punishment.]
I think...once? Maybe twice in the last ten years, I've fucked someone with feeling. Not just to dodge something worse. [Facing a void. Facing violence. Facing judgment. Most matters with men can be easy out-manoeuvred if you opened wide.] It gets to be a habit.
I don't much anymore. Some guys put up with you keeping your clothes on for it. Others not so much.
[Her scars have spooked some men. She's careful. There are those intrigued by them, and it's those men she fears the most.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
cw: scarification again. there are so many cws aaa.
when will this end CW: self harm mention
bans them from cw
finally free
yahoo