Rogue is no stranger to getting into scrapes, but this is a bit more than he bargained for. He's been hired to hunt down a vampire of note on Toril. He figured it would be relative easy, given the limited level of technology. But turns out there were a lot of other things that could cause him trouble.
The squidfaces are awful, and their ship is a lot more considerable than he'd expect. And whatever crawls inside his head... he doesn't even want to think about it. Then, shortly after, they crash.
He doesn't expect to crawl out right next to the spawn he'd been chasing. The man is unimportant himself, merely a lead on how to get to Cazador. But not exactly a friendly face, even if it's a somewhat familiar one.
"I do that," he agrees cautiously, his own hand hovering near his gun. He doesn't want to have to kill him. For one thing, he has no idea where they've ended up. The vampire might provide useful information of a different kind.
It's only after a moment that he too has a realisation about their surrounding, and specifically the time of day. "...You should be dead."
You should be dead. He's right; any other vampire spawn would be burnt to a crisp standing out in the light like this, but Astarion isn't. That wretched thing inside his mind's doing? Perhaps he should thank the mind flayers after all.
"And I'd rather you were, but we can't always get what we want," Astarion shoots back, unsheathing his dagger in one fluid movement. Although he makes no move to attack, hesitant to take on a bounty hunter when he's just been through a kidnapping, insertion of a parasite into his eye, and a crash, he holds it out in front of him defensively.
All bravado, he crows, "Keep your distance, and I might let you live."
Rogue is insightful enough to know that his threat is less like a prowling panther, and more like a hissing snake backed into a corner. Scared and vulnerable, but all the more dangerous for it. Rogue keeps his distance. He doesn't need to get close to use the blaster, after all.
"No one here needs to kill anybody," he points out, including himself in that. "I think our circumstances have changed a bit, don't you?" He glances around, both to get his bearings and to illustrate his point. He's definitely not getting paid today, that's for sure. "Doubt we'll be best buddies anytime soon, but I'm fine with a truce, if you are."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
The squidfaces are awful, and their ship is a lot more considerable than he'd expect. And whatever crawls inside his head... he doesn't even want to think about it. Then, shortly after, they crash.
He doesn't expect to crawl out right next to the spawn he'd been chasing. The man is unimportant himself, merely a lead on how to get to Cazador. But not exactly a friendly face, even if it's a somewhat familiar one.
"I do that," he agrees cautiously, his own hand hovering near his gun. He doesn't want to have to kill him. For one thing, he has no idea where they've ended up. The vampire might provide useful information of a different kind.
It's only after a moment that he too has a realisation about their surrounding, and specifically the time of day. "...You should be dead."
no subject
"And I'd rather you were, but we can't always get what we want," Astarion shoots back, unsheathing his dagger in one fluid movement. Although he makes no move to attack, hesitant to take on a bounty hunter when he's just been through a kidnapping, insertion of a parasite into his eye, and a crash, he holds it out in front of him defensively.
All bravado, he crows, "Keep your distance, and I might let you live."
no subject
"No one here needs to kill anybody," he points out, including himself in that. "I think our circumstances have changed a bit, don't you?" He glances around, both to get his bearings and to illustrate his point. He's definitely not getting paid today, that's for sure. "Doubt we'll be best buddies anytime soon, but I'm fine with a truce, if you are."