#❝ pull me by my hair so i don't go nowhere ❞ ;; pre game verse

[astaricn]

"Your eyes looks sunken boy, what troubles you?"

THE VAMPIRE'S ENTIRE FORM TENSED upon hearing his Master's voice, but he straightened himself up and forced a small smile. "Nothing gets past you, does it?" Comes his quiet reply, mumbled under his breath as if hoping perhaps Cazador didn't quite catch what he had said.

"Merely thinking about that boy I brought in the other night." SEBASTIAN. Though he doubt that his master cared for his meal's names. "He was... sweet. Not like most that I bring to you."

[astaricn]

HE KNOWS IT SHOULDN'T BOTHER HIM- Sebastian had hardly been the first one he's brought back, nor would he be the last. And yet... That boy's soft voice echoed in his mind. Plaguing his rest whenever he managed to focus on meditating. It was hardly as if he could do anything about it, either.

Any other time he'd feel a sick sense of pride, knowing he'd be praised and potentially REWARDED for his work. Yet this had left a horrible, sinking feeling in his stomach. Even as Cazador tells him he did well, it feels like it makes him feel WORSE. Unable to meet his master's eyes, they instead fall on one of the wolves obediently sat by his side.

"I... Don't know."

" I could not agree more!"

The master would pet one of his wolves, drinking blood from his favorite wine glass. Perhaps it came from Sebastian, perhaps not. Grinning at his 'favorite' thrall Cazador would raise a bright red eye for moment to read what he could on Astarion's face.

He'd always been easy to read. That which he tried to appear was always the opposite of what he thought. Usually, when it came darker matters there were moments where the thrall's eyes acted as a window to his soul.

" Not the sweetest you have brought me, but his skin was soft, it broke like butter my dear lad. You did well in brining him to me, why do you seem so disappointed? " @astaricn

[astaricn]

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[astaricn]

"And why are you here, boy, and not entertaining our guests?" @ratkingszarr

THE VAMPIRIC SPAWN FROZE the moment he heard his master's voice booming from the door way, and he quickly spins on his heel to face his master. Shit. He'd hoped he would have a least a LITTLE while before Cazador came looking for him.

"Master! Rest assured, I'm simply changing into something more appropriate." He explains hastily, gesturing to the suit he had laid out beside his bed. "I'll be out in just a moment, I promise."

[astaricn]

ASTARION HAD NO IDEA HOW LONG IT'D BEEN. He had stopped trying to escape so long ago. Fingers torn apart from months of desperate scratching at the walls. Worse than that was the HUNGER. Quite literally eating away at him. He knew it must've been at least months now, but with no way to tell time, Astarion could only continue wishing for death.

The sound of moving stone stirred the spawn from his unsatisfying rest. Breath catching in his throat and eyes widen at the realisation he was no longer trapped. His skin was taught against his bones, it was clear his time sealed away had left him emaciated. With sime hesitation, he slowly forced his body to move. Sitting up with a pained wince, his haggard face soon lock onto his master's form standing before him.

"Master..." His voice was raspy, rough from months of not being used. After all, he'd long learnt that his screams were going to be left unanswered. Now, despite his sorry state, there was a small glimmer of hope in his eyes. Was it over?

Starter for @szarr

[astaricn]

"Tell me something, boy. Did you have fun tonight? That woman's flesh soft and sweet, and I could tell you enjoyed setting your mark on her."

ASTRID- SHE HAD INTRODUCED HERSELF AS. A pretty, young half-elf who had only recently moved to Baldurs Gate. As usual, it hadn't taken long for Astarion to have her pressed against his mattress and crying out his name.

All the while, the knowledge that soon she'd be nothing but a meal for his Master played on his mind. His eyes shift to her now, body cold and lifeless. Only mere hours ago he had felt her heartbeat quicken under his touch, and now she was nothing more than another corpse to be disposed of.

At first, he doesn't even acknowledge his Master. Eyes glazed over as the spawn became lost in his own train of thoughts. It wasn't until Cazador's voice broke through the silence that he managed to blink and refocus on the now. No. He had not had fun. "She was... Nice?"

The act of seduction had long lost any enjoyment for Astarion, so such questions could only be met with hesitant indifference. It was merely a command that had to be followed, one which Astarion would be rewarded for with something, ANYTHING to eat.

[astaricn]

TEARS SPILLED FROM HIS EYES, a natural reaction to the agonising pain that Godey had caused- unable to do much else. Forced to endure the pain without lashing back, without being able to escape. How many times had Cazador told him he should be honoured, grateful for the pain he provided to him. How many times had he spat back at him, cursing him out and snarling about how bullshit that was.

The spawn blinked his eyes open, sensing the staff being lifted closer to him. He knows what Cazador wants, and despite it all a small part of him is TEMPTED to disobey. The only thing that stopped him was knowing that his master wouldn't hesitate to hurt him further.

With his body still locked in place, his only choice was to arch forward using only his neck. He slowly leans forward, and starved off the broken sob as the movement causes his pain to flare up. Trembling, his lips press against the tip of the staff and linger there.

Continuing to grin, the master would take to his feet and walk toward the bleeding spawn. Astarion's screams were delightful to him, the sensation of it. Ah, how he envies the young spawn. How he yearned to return to his own days as a spawn under Vellioth. At the time it had felt agonizing, but in truth they were the best days of his undead life.

Pain, true pain that withered the soul and beget endless cries from one's soul? A true sensation? What he would do to feel again, the horror of one's skin being removed for the first time or even the 100th time was superior in every way to the endless numb orgasms or the next glass of a virgin girl's blood fresh from the barrel. It was all nothing to him now. Pain, love, sex, violence. It meant nothing. It was nothing.

Gripping his staff, he'd extend it toward his slaves lips, giving him only a few seconds that he might kiss the dragon. Should he wait a moment too long it would fly off and more skin would be pealed away.

[astaricn]

HIS BODY TREMBLED, Cazador's smile immediately confirming to him that he wasn't going to wiggle his way out of his one. His chest rose and fell with nervous breaths despite him not even needing to breathe. Old habits die hard, even after all this time. Crimson eyes lock on the cane as it's slammed on the ground, and he doesn't need to do anything to KNOW he was trapped. Body locked in place, leaving him unable to move no matter how desperately he would try.

The spawn breathed a sharp breath in as he felt his hair roughly pulled, and his eyes screwed shut in anticipation. His teeth grit together as he felt the knife dig into his skin, doing his best to hold in the sounds of pain. That manages to last up until Godey roughly tore at his flesh until it tore from his skin. The scream he let out was one of pure agony, and despite himself he tries to escape. Tries desperately but Cazador's power kept him rooted in place.

Cazador said nothing, he only grinned as he starred down at the pale slave with a fiery gaze. Astarion had yet to thank him for his mercy all but insuring there would be none. The blade might wail as it is sharpened but it is a tool, an object used for a purpose. He needed his slaves to be obedient, that even the thought of bitterness was beyond them. He needed them so terrified they wouldn't dare even think about thinking he was wrong.

He was there God, they were not allowed to have an opinion of him. They would do as directed until the time came that they would be little more then dust.

No doubt the spawn would try to flee, it was not a matter of if they thought they could resist. It was instinct to escape pain, but the poor lad would find himself unable to move as he was frozen in place by a flaming red aura when his master slammed his cane to the ground.

Pulling the spawn's hair up to insure he had a clean cut, Godey dug his knife sideways into one end of the flesh that aligned the back of Astarion's neck through to the other. Wiggling the blade up and down he cut away the meat that clung to bone until hed' made a proper flap to grip, taking it by both end he would yank it down, carefully peeling the flesh from his neck down just shy of where the scars on Astarion's back rested. Releasing the mound of flesh he'd let it hang before putting his knife away.

[astaricn]

ASTARION WAS ANYTHING BUT INNOCENT and he knew this. Even before his untimely demise, he'd used his power both as a noble and a magistrate for his own gains. He had ruined many lives in his short time without remorse. It shouldn't be any different now, and yet he couldn't shake this sickening feeling.

His eyes widened a fraction as Cazador continued, and his master would no doubt sense the spike of fear that shot through him as he heard Godey approach. Part of him screams at him to resist, to pull away and lash out but he knew it'd be for naught. Cazador would take control and he'd inevitably be punished more brutally.

So as he feels a skeletal hand pressing down on him, he feels his legs give way and he drops to his knees. "Master, please! T-there's no need for that. I still brought him in, did I not? I followed your orders, I BEHAVED. It was just a fleeting thought, I swear!"

" Deserve? Surely you are not so innocent to think anything in this world happens for a reason? My darling boy, we are but pawns to greater powers. Just as I am to the Gods and you are to me. Do not worry though, you have no choice but to be educated, I simply would never allow you to be so utterly stupid for eternity."

Motioning toward his skeletal minion, Godey would march forward to grip the spawn by the neck in an effort to force him to his knees.

" You were at least capable of owning up to your sins, your silent and bitter rebellions. For that I shall take only the flesh from the back of your neck. So long as you thank me for my benevolence, of course!"

The sound of Godey's rusty blade emerging could be heard from behind him.

[astaricn]

THE SPAWNS BODY REMAINED TAUT WITH TENSION, and he visibly flinched just slightly when he heard the unmistakable sound of Godey approaching. Shit. He really hadn't anticipated Cazador noticing that he was bothered by his work- surely some small doubts weren't important enough to a Vampire Lord to dwell on. It seemed he was wrong.

"He didn't deserve it." The words are blurted out clumsily, fuelled by the hope that maybe despite his hesitation he'd be let off. Unlikely, but one could only hope. "Most of those I find are lowly street urchins, drunks. Sebastian was nothing like that." In another life, he could picture himself courting a lad like him.

The vampire lord could see it all too well. The sunken eyes, the subtle bitterness, the unwillingness to answer. Whatever it was the slave was feeling it was no doubt a thought that was critical of its master. Such a shame, he'd hoped such things had been beaten out of him after all these years ago.

Alas, even a beaten down dog would eventually begin to stir and growl between its yelps from time to time.

" Hm. You don't know do you?"

Motioning a wing a single claw, Godey would approach the two of them. The skeleton's empty eye sockets somehow imparting an excitement when they regard the spawn.

" Are you certain of that? If you can't answer a question perhaps I can find it under skin? We have nothing but time my dear lad."

[astaricn]

HIS CHEST HEAVES WITH SILENT WAVES OF PAIN, and he doesn't dare move even as he feels the power on him break away. Eyes locked to the ground as he waited for Cazador to return to his seat. Only daring to stand once he's sure Cazador is finished with him and sends him away.

"Yes, master." His voice is hoarse and submissive, evidently having lost his bite for the moment. He can feel his blood seeping down his back, staining his shirt and threatening to drip onto the floor. He's quick to retreat from the room before he made a mess, and once he reaches his shared chambers, he tears off his shirt and makes a beeline for his belongings, all the while ignoring whoever else was in the room.

Fishing out his embroidery kit as well as a small unlabelled bottle of alcohol. Hardly appropriate tools for surgery but it wasn't as if he had many options- if he were to be presentable as Cazador wanted he'd need to stitch himself back up. He hadn't expected to feel a hand on his shoulder, and he was quick to flinch away. Turning to see Aurelia standing behind him. 'Let me help.'

Not seeing many options, the spawn signed and relinquished his tools to his sister. While he certainly didn't always get on with his 'family', he did care for them and he did appreciate them. Some more than others, mind. He's in no mood to mingle with the nobles or potentially entertain them either, but that was hardly his choice.

He just hoped his body will stitch itself back together before the party started. Hissing when he feels Aurelia press the needle into the flesh of his neck, he forces himself to remain still as she patched up his wound.

TEARS SPILLED FROM HIS EYES, a natural reaction to the agonising pain that Godey had caused- unable to do much else. Forced to endure the pain without lashing back, without being able to escape. How many times had Cazador told him he should be honoured, grateful for the pain he provided to him. How many times had he spat back at him, cursing him out and snarling about how bullshit that was.

The spawn blinked his eyes open, sensing the staff being lifted closer to him. He knows what Cazador wants, and despite it all a small part of him is TEMPTED to disobey. The only thing that stopped him was knowing that his master wouldn't hesitate to hurt him further.

With his body still locked in place, his only choice was to arch forward using only his neck. He slowly leans forward, and starved off the broken sob as the movement causes his pain to flare up. Trembling, his lips press against the tip of the staff and linger there.