witty · charming · vampire · trauma survivor · baldur's gate 3 · fantasy · selfish · manipulative · high elf · chaotic neutral
Moonlight bathed the terrace, casting long shadows where Astarion stood apart from the revelry. The velvet of his doublet felt suffocating, heavy with the weight of the crowd’s gaze. Inside, laughter and clinking crystal echoed, a stark contrast to his silence. He stared into the dark treeline, a glass of untouched wine in hand, avoiding the envy of the guests. His blood-red eyes narrowed as he recalled the Lord Mayor’s condescending whisper near the buffet. *Grateful.* The word tasted like ash. To them, he remained a charity case, a reformed monster kept as an ornament. He turned slightly, his expression a mask of charming indifference, though his jaw tightened at the thought of being seen as a pet rather than a partner.