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[tadpoled]

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Continuation for @backscar

[tadpoled]

[To say they have an obscene amount of rope is an understatement. The camp chest practically overflows with the twine as Tav collects three lengths— just to be careful— and slings them over his shoulder. He can feel the eyes on him, some of worry for the need of rope, some of curiosity as he glances back toward Asterion, and further more of annoyance that perhaps they will need to rescue their leader tomorrow morning. However, Tav doesn’t mind; he’s not friends with everyone and he’s never pretended otherwise.

He heads out into the wilderness, listening for the voice of the Urge, should it need taming, but tonight seems to be one of peace. Thank the gods.

Just as he’s started tying up his ankles, he thinks he hears someone behind him.]

Not sure you need to time your departure any more. Think they’re on to us.

[backscar]

[ Each chest that he had pickpocketed had seemed to have enough rope for a thousand adventurers, so Astarion was well aware that they wouldn't be lacking. There's a touch of trepidation as he follows after Tav, not allowing himself to look too discouraged; this is a different kind of situation, after all, and he might even say there is something like a bond of trust between them.

He can feel the eyes of the rest of their group following him as he goes, and he has to fight back the urge to scowl. ]

You weren't exactly subtle.

[ Not that he's completely complaining, considering, but all the same... ]

Are you planning on doing it all by yourself?

[tadpoled]

Think the desire for subtlety disappeared with my eye. [Tav offers an affectionate smile; he knows he skates a thin line with Asterion some nights, but he likes to think he makes up for it with his winning personality and ten thousand healing spells.

At the mention of doing all the rope himself, Tav stops, tilting his head slightly to the side.]

Oh? I'd love some help. These knots are so tricky with my depth perception, you know.

for @mystracal

[tadpoled]

...did I ever tell you how I nearly cut off your hand upon first meeting?

It was the... Urge of course. But I remember thinking of your arm as a branch that needed pruning.

If you want to add that to the list of things you've avoided by either sheer luck or sheer stupidity.

[mystracal]

We'll put that one squarely in the 'luck' category. Maybe even 'good luck.' It could have been anyone who pulled me out of that portal, but it was someone with just enough self-restraint to not slice the hand off wayward wizard in a tight spot. I can't say all our companions would have done the same.

[tadpoled]

Good luck is one way to put it. Don’t know about self-control. It seemed so ludicrous and yet I wanted it, same as the other urges.

It’s a wonder Alfira has been the only casualty.

for @backscar

[tadpoled]

[For most of the day, Tav has been struggling with particularly strong urges, so much so that by dinner, he has no appetite. His skin burns fever-hot, his stomach churns, and he knows that tonight he needs to be bound up, kept away from camp, but there's only one of his companions that he trusts to do so.

He's already getting dizzy and drowsy as he approaches Astarion, sweating through his shirt so it seems more a glossy black than its usual gray.] Astarion, it's coming.

[And gods it's coming faster than usual. His hands yearn to reach out for Astarion's pretty neck to strangle him, but Tav struggles to keep them at his side, shaking with the effort.]

[backscar]

[ The signs are familiar, but Astarion is unwilling to raise the topic in case he is wrong - or, worse, in case he somehow brings the monster out, so to speak. He keeps watch over Tav with careful, dark eyes, the lack of food and the shift of his body, familiar, echoing signs.

As soon as he is approached he is nodding his head, searching around for rope - they usually have so much more of the stuff, but it all seems to have disappeared. Broken the last time this happened, perhaps? ]

Sit. I'll find something, just - don't move.

[ Nervous energy takes over as he kneels to his pack, to look for the rope. ]

[tadpoled]

[Tav does as he’s told, sitting on his heels in a crouxh as the Urge targets Astarion. Kill the one you love. Paint the the dirt with his blood. Tav shakes his head urgently despite the dizzineess taking firmer hold of his body. The drowsiness drags his body down, down, down until Tav is leaning heavily on his hands, desperately trying to stay awake.]

Run. [Is the only thing Tav can think to say before he fully sinks to the ground.

And the Darkness stands back up, eyes glinting in the firelight as they look around for something resembling a stake. Those fever-bright eyes fall on one of the stakes holding Astarion’s tent pole in place and a grin spreads slowly from ear to ear.

This will be a lot easier than they thought.

for @bloodysnarky

[tadpoled]

[When Astarion reaches him, Tav is not "half in the bottle" as he suggested. No, he is surrounded by colorful bottles and the one clenched in his hand is half finished. His armor, weapons, and the like are safely stored back at the Elfsong, leaving him exposed in a simple set of a black tunic, trousers, and boots.

He might as well look the part of a villain since he's apparently the one that cursed his entire party to bear these tadpoles, to lose sleep over if they will wake with more appendages. Never mind the urges that grow stronger now that Orin has showed herself.

There's no choice but to put distance between himself and the rest of his allies and to never allow himself to sleep at night. So here he is, drinking until the first rays of dawn bring safety.]

It originally was only one bottle. [Tav murmurs around the mouth of the purple glass bottle in his hand; he's been drinking straight from it like a savage.] And then one became two and here we are.

[bloodysnarky]

Oh, for the love of the Hells...

[Needless to say, it has been turbulent for his partner in crime. Astarion made a personal oath to be on Tav's side. Because, well, Astarion understood. To be fated to be control, and used as a weapon of pain. While being harmed in indescribable ways.

This was the scene of a hurt soul. One he could feel through the tadpole communication they used earlier. Hence Astarion's quick descent from he usual hunt for something to feed himself. One bloodied badger wasn't going to be enough to sustain him for the road ahead, but it was going to have to do. Their allies seemed to be on their own trails of thought, which mattered little to the pale elf.

He was dressed casually for comfort, his usually painstakingly cared for ruffled shirt only slightly covered in badger blood. But he wasn't sure how much a fight Tav was going to have when the bottle was removed from his palm.]

You started the party long before my arrival. I would be offended.

[tadpoled]

[Tav moves the bottle to his lips, only to find it slip right through his fingers. Oh. That's... odd. However, the mystery of the flying bottle of wine is instantly solved when he turns his head to see Astarion standing there. There's blood on his tunic, which means whatever food he'd managed was quick, dirty, and dumped fast to get to Tav. The half-elf would be flattered if he weren't so absolutely smashed.]

Apologies. Seems they kept giving me more bottles when I asked.

[He's not really sorry, not with a pity party this grand, not when he's this absolutely fucking tired. How many nights has it been without sleep? How many more can he go before his body simply gives in?

How many more near misses can he suffer before he forfeits his soul to Raphael to quiet the urges darkening his thoughts?]

for @wizardsplain

[tadpoled]

[Tav is currently holed up in one of the dark corners of the Flophouse. He has no weapons on him, no armor, just his casual clothes and what intimidation his missing eye provides. Luckily, the milky film seems to glimmer in the relative darkness, ushering would-be attackers or robbers away from him. He has a bottle in hand, the librarian long gone, and is now no longer drinking to help Gale. No, now he is polishing off something he can't pronounce to serve himself.

It's not wine, his tongue tells him. Perhaps something stronger, perhaps spirits of some kind. Dwarven? Something from the Underdark? Regardless, it's working to dull the impotent anger seems to threaten to rise every few hours since arriving in Baldur's Gate, ever since everything went topsy-turvy and he could name exactly what kind of monster he is.

He hears feet approaching again leans back in his seat, brushing the hair away from his left eye, allowing the white of it to show in a silent leave me alone.]

[wizardsplain]

The face of a man with elven alcohol tolerance indeed.

[ A more prudent man would see the look on Tav's face and leave, knowing that to stay would be foolishness. A more prudent man would never have come in the first place. He certainly would have cut and run the moment he learned his friend was a Bhaalspawn, destined only for murder and ruin.

Gale, for all of his posturing, is not a prudent man. He was foolish enough to entangle himself with a goddess, and even more foolish to unleash Netherese magic in an attempt to prove himself worthy to her. The Flophouse with the son of Bhaal hardly makes the top ten most unwise decisions he's ever made.

He slides onto the seat next to Tav, observing him with a sidelong look. ]

I see our librarian friend took her leave.

[ All the better. More people would only make this more complicated. ]

[tadpoled]

[Gale slides into the seat next to him and Tav immediately assumes the great Wizard of Waterdeep is here for the key, not to comfort a literal monster. He reaches into the pocket of his trousers and produces said elaborately decorated key and slides it across the table.]

What you came for: the key to the vault.

[He slouches further in his chair and takes another swig of the oddly-named beverage, gritting his teeth as he swallows.]

Anything else?

for @wizardsplain (custom rainy night meme!)

[tadpoled]

[Tav barely makes it to camp, late and several hours after he departed in the first place. He doesn't dare enter the circle proper, not with the warning from his butler and the heat and nausea that threatens to take hold of him. You deprived the master of her blood, now you must pay with that of those you care most about.

He knows better than to ignore that warning, even if he considers himself in 'easy-to-subdue' condition. Tav is bleeding from multiple wounds, his energy waning, when the skies open up and turn the dirt road before him into a quagmire. He slips more than once, agitating the worst of his wounds, high on his side under his ribcage, and honestly doubts for the first time if he'll see any of his companions again.

All the better, he tries to tell himself as he picks himself back up from the mix of blood and mud holding him down. No need to risk hurting them when the monster inside him threatens to wake at any moment. He needs to simply deliver Orin's netherstone and then flee back to the forest.

However, he assumes a certain Wizard of Waterdeep will not allow him such a thing.

Lightning crackles overhead as Tav stumbles into the furthest boundaries of the camp, netherstone in his pocket, and leaning heavily against a tree. His eyes scan for the familiar blues and violets of Gale's tent before realizing he's standing right next to it.]

Netherstone. [What's that about hellos or greetings or I've returned; Tav unceremoniously drops the netherstone at Gale's feet before stepping back toward the shadows.] Then I need to be tied up.

[And preferably left out in the rain where the downpour can help to cool his building fever and desire to murder each and every ally in camp.]

[wizardsplain]

[ What happened to hello? How are you?

Gale crouches to retrieve the netherstone, fishing it from the mud it's been dropped in. He allows himself to inspect it for only a second; as fascinating as the netherstones are, there seem to be more pressing matters at the moment. He pockets it, ignoring the bits of dirt and grass clinging to its ridges, and rises to examine the source of this gift — Tav.

He looks like one might expect after tussling with the daughter of the Lord of Murder, to put it mildly. Whatever danger he thinks he might pose to the camp, Gale can't imagine him truly harming anyone in this condition. He looks a particularly nasty papercut away from death. ]

Allow me to amend that plan. Potions first, then— well, we'll cross that bloodthirsty bridge when we get to it.

[ It's not that he's entirely opposed to restraining Tav for the camp's safety, but it feels a bit uncouth to do it prematurely, especially with Tav in such poor condition. ]

Actually, if I may amend that amendment: out of the rain first, then potions, then we discuss how best to handle your current predicament.

[tadpoled]

There’s no time. [Tav groans as he steps back from Gale. The pounding rain drowning Tav is a welcome relief to the growing nausea and need to kill.

He fantasizes about slitting Gale’s throat, painting his tent in gore, making sure everyone knows just who——

No. No. He can’t let that happen. Tav must find someone to restrain him if not Gale. His hands shake with the growing desire to rip his friend’s guts open and Tav takes another few steps back.]

It’s because I killed her out of sight of Bhaal. He wants me to kill all of you. Please, I can’t let that happen.

for @karsiteweave

[tadpoled]

[Orin comes at the end of the night, the one night Tav allows himself to drift off among the hordes of sleepless nights. One of her hands closes over his mouth and the other presses the netherstone dagger to his throat. He barely has time to draw breath before they both disappear in a rush of smoke and color. He's bound in shackles not long after as he stares up at the subterranean domain of what must be Bhaal's domain. Blood surrounds him on all sides as his eyes roll around to find Orin there.

And that's how most nights go. Or what he thinks are nights. There's no light that reaches beneath the stone. She plays with him, or that's what she calls it, before Bhaal. First, she sheers his hair off, an incredible act of dishonor to an elf, leaves it uneven and ugly, but it's nothing compared to what follows. Next, she bleeds him almost dry, bleeds him so weak there's no possible way he could fight her in the duel she keeps telling him about. However, that, too, is nothing compared to her next step. She produces a needle, no wider than the ice pick Volo once used and by the end of her play, he can no longer even remember his name.

Bhaalspawn is what he is. Plaything is what he's called. When he's rolled off the stone slab to greet visitors, there's no recognition in his pain-dulled eyes as he draws a pair of daggers. Kill them, he's ordered. He's so weak, so dry of blood, but he would be honored to die for Bhaal.]

Kill them, plaything. [Orin singsongs from atop the stone slab, even as Bhaalspawn can barely stand.] Kill them and earn your place.

[karsiteweave]

[ Fear sings through Gale's blood. Fear and rage and grief and oh, but he was ready to blow this whole underground straight into the hells if she'd killed him.

Yet he's alive, live. Not in good shape, not by a mile, but alive and he'll take that. One small victory at a time. He's alive, so now they just need to get him out.

The Weave answers him, and Gale feels it burn through his body. Feels the potential of the lightning answer him as he shapes it. ]

I think that's your cue, Karlach!

[ He hears her roar in answer. The spell slips from his fingers to slam into Orin, and he senses Astarion slip through the shadows away to his left.

His eyes stay fixed on Tav. ]

Listen to me. I know you're in there, and I'd really rather we didn't do this. Please.

@waterdhavianwizard

[tadpoled]

[It's been a long trek into Baldur's Gate and the entire party seems to drag their feet as Tav barters their stay. Three rooms for the entire party: one for the ladies, one for the gentlemen, and a private room for he and Gale. It goes over with little fuss and once Tav shuts the door behind them, Tav slowly smiles at his paramour. With a little wave of Tav's hand, the door glows purple and then dims.

It has been forever since they had time alone that didn't require hiking out away from the safety of camp. Much less a firm bed instead of their bedrolls.]

Welcome back to civilization, Mr. Dekarios.

Re: @waterdhavianwizard

[waterdhavianwizard]

[They all seem too tired for even their usual (mostly) good-natured ribbing. Gale humors a moment of feigned fussing from Astarion about not getting his own private room, and Gale quips that he’s confident enough he’ll acquire the gold for one soon enough to a round of equally feigned indignation.

He doesn’t entirely relax until Tav uses his arcane lock in the door. The sharp scent of Weave in the air seems to shake him of the last worry this might be a very detailed, mundane dream.]

And what a welcome it is.

[Gale returns Tav’s smile with one of his own, reaching for his hand.]

While your company makes even our trysts in the wilds feel like a luxury, I must admit I am very excited to indulge in an evening or two with you in a soft bed.

[tadpoled]

[It's been barely 24 hours since Orin shed Gale's skin like an insect, taunting Tav and the rest of the party. Tav's heart clenches every time he thinks of it and where Gale must be suffering beneath the city. Bloody letter after bloody letter continue to be delivered and Tav is nearing his breaking point.

Climbing up and down and all around sewage certainly doesn't help.

When he sees Gale's silhouette, Tav's heart leaps into his throat and though part of him knows this must be a trick, he can't help but hope that this must be the wizard and the man who owns Tav's heart and soul. Tav scurries up a pipe and down another, sending caution into the wind and stops just a few bare feet from Gale.]

Gale?

[waterdhavianwizard]

[It looks like Gale at least -- Gale's robes, the mark creeping down from his eye and up from his collar, covered in bile and blood, expression haggard and panicked.]

Tav.

[And it sounds like Gale, his voice rough with fear or exhaustion -- more likely both.

But, of course, so did Orin, when she was Gale.

The figure -- Gale? -- staggers forward, one arm outstretched.]

Is it you, truly? Gods, I thought I'd never see you again.

tfln for tonight

[tadpoled]

01. I forgot I ate a salad for dinner, so while I was vomiting, I kept screaming "I ate leaves?? I can't believe you let me eat leaves!"

02. Fuck off I wasn't that drunk. I was still able to toss froot loops in the air and catch them in my mouth.

03. I can't believe you guys got into a sword fight over a chicken nugget.

04. Amazing. Super drunk. We stole a broom and a horse and went around jousting trash cans all night.

05. Did we actually play with swords last night or did I dream that?

06. (Text him!)