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Astarion smiles and extends his hand for a brief, friendly clasp. The other man's falter has been noted, but it's nothing, really. He's used to the negative reaction being more 'reaching for a wooden stake' than anything this politely muted.

"Hello, darling. Your photograph doesn't do you justice."

Tim's grip in return is firm, but not crushingly so. Perhaps lingering just a second too long as Tim, while usually so calm and easy going when meeting new people, is suddenly nervous and not exactly sure what to do.

"Neither does yours." He didn't look close enough to notice the ears and teeth before. "Good to meet you in person." He had told his wife he was going out tonight to meet a new friend. He's wondering if he should quickly text Sasha to let her know his new friend is a vampire.

Would she rush down to try and save Astarion from Tim's old rage at the supernatural? He wonders. Or would she come be back up support for him? He just can't be sure.

"Looks like you're a bit ahead of me on the drinks. I think I'll just order myself a pint and be right back. After all, bit of thirsty work for tonight." Wait... should he say thirsty around a vampire?! "Er-- swapping stories that is. You know, lot of talking."

Edited (omg these typos. This is why I should not be trying to tag while getting ready for bed on the phone) 2025-02-04 13:13 (UTC)

Astarion will, soon enough, address this obvious elephant in the room, but for just these few moments it's a lot of fun to watch this man trip over himself.

He smiles.

"And I'm sure you've had a long day. Draining. I'll wait."

"Ah... ha, yeah. So, um, I'll be right back." Tim will be going to the bar for a few minutes to order his drink and sneak a quick text message to his wife.

Eventually returning with a drink to get settled next to Astarion. "Now, I must admit, I initially thought you might have died from the story you were telling me before. Guessing I was wrong?"

"You are," Astarion says, and rests his chin on his hand. "Monster hunter, or - just some unfortunate history with the undead?"

Tim tries to keep an easy smile, but it quickly becomes strained and forced at the question. "Unfortunate would probably only just scratch the surface to describe my history with the undead and inhuman." He sees no reason to lie or overly sugar coat it. "But, most of it happened back home so I'm trying to move past it."

"Thoroughly decent of you. Personally, I knew some vampires who were complete bastards, and had half a bestiary to contend with elsewhere. It's not always so easy to move past. But, I appreciate being given a fair chance."

"I wouldn't say this truce has been easy at all. Three, four years ago? I'd probably be long gone." He takes another sip of his drink. "But, I'm really hoping to not regret my decision to stay tonight."

"I'll do my best," Astarion purrs. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

"Very well then. My name is Tim Stoker. I'm from London-- that's on Earth." As he remembers not everyone is from Earth. "From the year 2016 if that means anything to you. I use to work in publishing until I made a pivot to work in academia. Wound up working in the archives for an institute that collects and investigates the supernatural and in-explainable."

2016 doesn't mean anything, but 'collects and investigates the supernatural' rings a bell.

"I don't suppose you know a Jonathan Sims? He tells me he's been pursuing the same line of work here in the city."

The way Tim's face pulls into a grimace probably gives away that; yes, he does know Jon and isn't exactly thrilled by it. "Yeah, he's my former boss. We know each other pretty well, but I don't work for him here. I was only working there to find the thing that killed my brother so I didn't feel the need to continue the work here."

"Ah. My condolences. He's paying me to teach him how to use a knife and he's quite annoying, so I may stab him at some point."

He's already proven he can walk it off! It's fine!

"Why does he want to learn how to use a knife? I doubt he'd be any good in a fight with one even if he had any idea how to use it." He should also probably say something about that stabbing threat.

Maybe.

"It's a matter of self-defence, I believe. I haven't asked for the entirety of the tragic backstory for this request because I don't particularly care."

Astarion sips his wine.

"So what do you do for work here?"

"Well, maybe don't stab him then. It wouldn't be very good self defense classes if he ends up dead by the end of it."

As much as he wouldn't admit to it, he doesn't really want to see Jon come to harm. "Just some office job. It's not very exciting." He waves it off. It really is honestly a dull job. "So, do you teach self defense for a living?"

"No, actually - I run a shop in the Up, 'Rags to Riches'. I restore clothes in poor condition for resale, and make one-off pieces on commission. Much of the fashion here leans towards what I assume are Earth's cultural norms."

"Oh! I've seen that place, but hadn't gone in just yet. I suppose now I have more of a reason to stop in."

"I've been known to give discounts to friends," Astarion says smoothly. "I also have an - apprentice, of sorts. Odd situation. He knows me from home, but I don't know him. Some sort of...alternate timeline business."

"Oh? Something similar has happened between myself and Jon. He's from further along than me in our world. But you're saying from an alternative timeline rather than just further along?"

"Precisely. We had some...markedly similar experiences, but he simply wasn't present during mine. Odd. He assumed at first that I was just lying to torment him, which is something I'd do, to be fair."

"Interesting, but if you two has similar experience, but you were missing - how would you know those lies to tell?"

"I wasn't missing, that's the thing," Astarion chirps. "We both went on the same misadventure. My group of heroes and ne'er-do-wells simply had one fewer member than his. I can very easily guess the events he survived in the company of my...other self."

"I don't know. Sounds pretty confusing to me. Dare I ask what your other self might have been like?"

Astarion shrugs.

"He would have lived the same hell I did, and he wasn't annoying enough for his companions to kick him out of their party or hand him over a monster hunter, so - I can't imagine he'd have been dissimilar."

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