SCAWWY ⇢ ASTARION (BECCI)

[shirtbag]

for the prince charming from shrek ii expy (i love him)

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week 0, saturday, winery

[shirtbag]

[ back in his slutty cowboy gear, boothill has finally found the door to the winery in the basement of the refectory, where astarion is already inspecting the barrels. ]

Well, fork me! [ ALCOHOL!!! ] Finally, some sustenance! What've we got here?

[haematocritical]

[ 🙏 say thank you to hoyoverse. ]

…

[ important things first: ] Fork?

[ still. at least someone decided if they were going to kidnap a bunch of people they might as well let them get drunk as skunks along the way. (“so many people here are under 18 and 21”) drunk as skunks. ]

If this is all we have we’re going to rip through this in no time.

[shirtbag]

[ just for you becci ]

'Yer tellin' me! This here cowboy drinks like a fish. [ walks in and inspects everything, hands on hips. ] 'Fraid I'm more partial to beer and hard liquor than wine, but I'll take whatever we got.

[haematocritical]

[ his crop top makes me laugh every time. ]

I’m sure if you found somewhere to put in a proper request for something, you’d be completely ignored either way. So that’s probably not a bad attitude to have.

[ imagine.

one beer please!
>denied ]

You’re not planning on just sticking your head into the barrel, are you? [ they have no glasses ]

w0, monday

[haematocritical]

[ help i said i'd do a starter and then i forgot. MY STARTER.

rng says the church, but that's fine because we have mailboxes in front of everything so he's just looking at this mailbox like "huh". ]

Did we all get these outside our new... [ ugh ] homes?

[shirtbag]

[ IT'S OK I SAY AS I ANSWER THIS TEN HOURS LATER!!! ]

I saw 'em 'round the other buildin's, so I'm 'fraid so. Think those fudgin' nutjobs in the masks put these up while we weren't lookin'?

[haematocritical]

[ IT’S OKAY I SAY HOURS LATER AS I WAKE UP FROM BEING ASLEEP. ]

For what exactly? Were you planning on urgent postal deliveries to the theatre anytime soon when you could literally just— [ points at the theatre from where he’s stood ] walk there?

[shirtbag]

Ain't for that, Partner.

[ he smiles. ]

Heard from that one called "Pesto". Said they could smuggle us some things every once'n a while. Got myself a handle a'hard liquor that was waitin' for us in these boxes soon as we moved in.

w0, saturday

[haematocritical]

[ well astarion is wandering up to the barrier, and makes a little "hm!" sound as it de fogs enough for him to see boothill in his sad little barrier prison.

then he walks away.


and then he comes back. ]

For a place so intent on keeping magic from us, it certainly likes using it on us instead.

[ so.

someone here made a mess and it wasn't him. ]

[shirtbag]

[ boothill looks. insane! but he is behind a barrier and just standing there hello. his voice sounds deep and cybernetic. he has a pointy stepford smile. ]

Magic this, magic that. [ he takes his gun from his holster, spins it around with his finger through the trigger hole. ] Y'all ever talk about anythin' else?

[haematocritical]

Hardly, I'm not the wizard of the party.

[ i hate that this doesn't deter astarion from knocking his knuckles on the barrier like hm! convenient. ]

Dear me, this possession thing really did a number on you didn't it?

[shirtbag]

Right. That one's Gale.

[ he lifts his chin, spins the revolver faster, then catches in his hand. his eye glows. his smile tilts up a little more. ]

I could shut 'em up for ya', if ya' like.

w5, saturday

[haematocritical]

[ i won't be replying until later so we can do nebulous post trial and add in details as we learn them i guess?


anyway hello. he's dead now. ]

[shirtbag]

[ HELLO LOVELY we can make this monday if you want?

assigns them standing outside the scaresco. boothill is 🧍‍♂️ ]

How you holdin' up, brother?

[haematocritical]

[ monday is gucci! we love monday (do we?) ]

Oh, culture shock aside? It could be worse.

[shirtbag]

[ aus them into the universe of their torrid love affair (no) ]

I'll be honest, I was kinda expectin' you to punch my lights out when ya' got here.

w6 saturday

[shirtbag]

[ backdates to after execution! boothill is fucking down and out after that. he is sitting at heaven's night instead of bop to the top because he can't fucking be in there. if astarion would never visit this shitty bar otherwise, boothill can find him outside of it as he carries a few empty glass bottles to the garbage.

he gives astarion a nod. flatly, but only because he's mentally drained: ]

Evenin'.

[haematocritical]

[ nah he'll go wherever because (autotune voice) JESSSUUUSSS CHRISSSTTTT ]

Good evening.

[ haha ]

What the fuck.

[shirtbag]

[ SO TRUE OOMF. BOOTHILL JUST NODS. ]

You wanna drink?

[haematocritical]

Please.

[ something strong. ]

w7, monday

[haematocritical]

[ oh my god it's endgame week hello.

where we at what we do. astarion's somewhere around by the jamba juice of legends, looking Thoughtful. ]

[shirtbag]

[ HELLO

boothill thought he was safe to get jamba juice. he stops a few paces away. right when he sees astarion.

boothill is baldhill. wearing his hat. he's just standing here like a deer in the headlights. ]

[haematocritical]

[ my rib is feeling better today so i'm delighted to say i didn't keel over when i burst out laughing. ]

...


[ excuse him for a moment this is hilarious. ]

[shirtbag]

[ i'm so glad he gets to witness this

fine. running would make him seem like a weenie, so boothill just walks to the jamba juice with the worst look on his face. ]

Not one word.

w7, saturday

[haematocritical]

[ what's up wifeguy? ]

So are we just... standing around until a door opens and we can all go home? Scien tells us the machine's fixed up? A sign from the hells emerges?