I Love The Clip Where Neil Newbon Talks About How He Wanted To Make Astarion's Laugh Kind Of Abrasive

Thinking about narratives where the setting is a mirror of the main character almost as though they're an extension of one another and that sense of connection drives the plot and makes both the place and the character better by the end of the story as though they helped to heal each other

10 Quiet Ways Your Character Is Breaking Their Own Heart (And Pretending It's Fine)

These are the betrayals that aren’t loud. They don’t come with fireworks or screaming matches. These are the small, slow deaths. The ones that your character lets happen... while smiling politely.

» They say yes when they desperately want to say no. Every. Damn. Time. They show up when they're exhausted. They agree to things they hate. They make themselves smaller, softer, easier, because "good people" don’t make waves, right? (Spoiler: they're drowning.)

» They keep chasing people who only love them halfway. It's not even subtle anymore. They know these people leave them on "read," show up late, make them feel like an afterthought. But they cling anyway, spinning every scrap of affection into a story about hope. (It’s not hope. It’s hunger.)

» They refuse to believe good things are meant for them. They’ll hype everyone else up. They’ll believe in everyone else's dreams. But when something finally good lands in their lap? They’ll panic. Push it away. Tell themselves it was a fluke. (Because being disappointed feels safer than being lucky.)

» They’re waiting for closure that will never come. An apology. An explanation. A miracle where someone says, "You were right, and I was wrong, and I’m so sorry." They wait years. Decades. Lifetimes. But deep down, they know: some people never come back. Some stories just end without punctuation.

» They’re hoarding all their "almosts" like treasures. The job they almost got. The love that almost worked. The version of themselves they almost became. They replay those maybes like a greatest hits album. (Meanwhile, real life is slipping by while they mourn possibilities.)

» They’re performing a version of success they secretly hate. Look at the Instagram. Look at the LinkedIn updates. Look at the shiny exterior. It looks like winning. But every trophy they collect feels heavier, not lighter. Every promotion tastes a little more like ash. (Turns out, chasing someone else's dream is still losing.)

» They forgive people who aren’t sorry. Not because they’re enlightened. Not because they’ve healed. But because it’s easier to pretend it didn’t hurt than to sit with the fact that it did—and that the person responsible doesn't care. (Some wounds scar better when you stop pretending they were accidents.)

» They punish themselves for still being soft. The world told them, again and again, that soft things get broken. And they believed it. So every time they feel too much? Every time they cry or hope or trust? They tell themselves they’re weak. Stupid. Embarrassing. (They're not. They're just still alive.)

» They downplay their own magic. They call their talents "lucky breaks." Their beauty "average." Their intelligence "no big deal." They shrug off compliments like they're dangerous. Because deep down, they've been taught that being remarkable makes you a target.

» They cling to the idea that if they just work harder, they'll finally be enough. They believe in meritocracy like it’s a religion. That if they hustle hard enough, self-sacrifice deep enough, burn themselves to ash perfectly enough, someone, somewhere, will finally say, "You're worthy now." (They were always worthy. The system is just broken.)

I’ve been trying to get some good dialogue scene screenshots of Astarion, and my field research suggests that he has these modes only: 

Literal model

"Depraved carnal lust"

Sad cat

Actual gremlin

My Tav

I'm hoping to eventually post some snippets / maybe a completed fic on here once I get something presentable, and I'm trying to motivate myself rather than get caught up in anxiety. So I thought I may as well informally introduce my Tav. She's very much still a work in progress, but I'm trying not to put too much pressure on myself to have her extensively fleshed-out when I only really just started actually writing her story. I made up a lot about her as I played the game, but now I'm taking that raw material and expanding upon it. Anyway, this is River:

Name: River*

Gender: She identifies as a woman and goes by she/her, but her gender isn't really crucial to her sense of identity.

Race: Half-elf

Age: Half-elf equivalent of mid-twenties

Class: Paladin (Oath of the Ancients)

Appearance: I imagine her looking a little different than her in-game version, mainly in body type and hair length, as well as some facial differences. She's about 5' 8" (Astarion won't let her forget that she's nearly a whole inch shorter than him), but not as lean and obviously muscular as the type 3 body option in-game. She's strong, but isn't as slim as the other female characters. The vanilla game doesn't have the option, but I imagine her with long wavy hair that she usually wears braided for combat and down when at rest. She has numerous scars.

Personality: She's very introverted and quiet, preferring to observe and listen than be any sort of center of attention. She's extremely good at reading and understanding others, but is rarely understood herself. She is giving to a fault, and needs to learn not to be the "therapist friend" all the time. Being high-masking autistic, she comes across as weird or just quiet to most people who don't know her. She's defined by her selflessness, empathy, and passion, though she struggles to express the latter openly. Despite her social struggles, she will stand firm when defending someone and upholding her oaths. She hates it when people (Astarion) call her a self-sacrificial paladin stereotype, because it's true.

Overview:

She is pretty similar to Wyll in a lot of ways, in that she wears the mask of the protector, always putting everyone else first, driven by compassion. While she becomes extremely attached to her companions very quickly, she struggles greatly to form the genuine, profound connection she desires. She doesn't like to talk about her past because though she craves emotional intimacy like a drug, it also terrifies her.

She's a paladin, sworn to the Oath of the Ancients, because she feels fundamentally like an outsider. In her mind, if she can't belong among people, at least she can protect and care for them from afar. Chronic self-isolation has led her to feeling extremely off-balance once this group of tadpole-infested weirdos decides that she's the person to follow around the wilds of Faerun looking for a cure. She has never been accepted as a leader of any kind before, so she's uncertain, but finds drive in the fact that people are putting their faith in her. She would give anything to not let them down.

River finds Astarion intriguing from the beginning, and immediately wants to get through to him. She can see the mask he wears, even when others insist on taking him at face value. She doesn't support his more sadistic tendencies, but she sees the good in him from early on, and can tell there's much more to his story. Him being a vampire isn't that big of a deal to her; she is practical, and has a good sense of his character by then. She feels understanding and care for him more than anything else, so she puts her trust in him. (Interesting, considering her oaths, as the forces of nature aren't too keen on undead... Foreshadowing?) She ends up falling for Astarion in act 2 because of how he's finally opening up a bit, and she can see the soft, bright, passionate, incredibly strong man he is under the facade. After a whole lot of patience and consistent support, of course. Astarion shows time and time again that he seems to accept and understand River in a way nobody else, even their other companions, ever has. They're the one person in each other's lives who has never judged the other. Well, Astarion judges and openly mocks her plenty in the beginning for her bleeding heart, but never for the things she feels that deep-rooted shame over, like her autistic traits.

They're both learning together what it means to form connection after a lifetime of disconnect and loneliness, in a world that does not accept either of them without conditions. They may look like opposites to those who don't realize that their asymmetry is simply reflection. They challenge each other in the best ways, and deep down, they know a lot of the same pain. It sounds cheesy, but I think they balance each other out in a way that pushes them both to be better, braver people.

I'm currently working on a fic that I think will consist of several chapters occurring at important and illustrative points in both the game's narrative and their relationship. River has a lot of growth across the story in terms of self-acceptance, confronting her relationship with her Oaths, connecting, and reclaiming her identity. I love writing her and Astarion in any given situation, not to mention her relationships with the other companions. She's far from my best-written or most unique original character, but I care about her and her story. I'm trying to take my time and not put pressure or judgement on myself, and to just have fun with it. I'm also on the verge of committing to a post-game fic about Astarion and River, which I have SO many ideas for, involving tons of fluff, healing, Astarion's bucket list of "Things I Want To Do Now That I'm Not Slave To An Evil Vampire Lord", and plenty of interesting vampiric chaos in the Underdark. That story will be a bigger commitment, but I feel so inspired to write it. Something about writing her and Astarion is just so comforting to me.

While this character is very much like me in a lot of ways, she's also different in crucial ones, and I think I'm learning a lot by writing her.

(Now, I'm on my way to starting a Dark Urge playthrough, and I have some Ideas of how River could fit perfectly in that role, from what I know about the resist Dark Urge storyline. The angst and metaphors would be dialed up to 100. With some backstory changes, it could work really well, I think. So don't be surprised if she potentially becomes a Dark Urge AU version of herself in the future haha. Writing fanfic has been so freeing because I can just DO that if i want to. My character can be fluid. There are no rules. Hells yeah.)

*(I came up with her name before I even got the game, and so her name being in the main theme song makes it seem cheesy but I don't care lol)

A (Bitter?) Taste of Power

I’m currently in Act III of my very first BG3 playthrough. I’m enjoying myself immensely in a way I didn’t foresee; I guess I had been too tired of AAA games to believe BG3 could impress me. And yet, there’s a marvel around nearly every corner of the story.

For example, the little cutscene in the flophouse between Astarion and his siblings. I almost missed it entirely, because in my party, Shadowheart has Lathander’s Blood equipped at all times, and that thing emits light. So before I even registered there were any vampire spawns in the vicinity, two mysterious NPCs – Dalyria and Petras, as I was not-so-soon going to learn – went up in a puff of blood-red smoke, even while standing behind a $#%! wall (praise our lord Lathander and his light that shines through solid obstacles). If not for Astarion’s comment, I would probably think it was just some weird glitch on the periphery of my screen.

Anyway, several in-game hours later (and some online searching) I realized I’m not going to meet them again elsewhere and if I want the cutscene, I need to go back to a way earlier save.

But I don’t regret it. The encounter was worth every bit of lost game progress.

It’s no secret Astarion has a penchant for casual violence and cruelty. Kicking squirrels, using mind control to tell others to gut themselves – he may approve of all these actions, should Tav choose to commit them. Enough sitting around – let’s go hurt someone is one of Astarion’s lines said with such playfulness it makes me chuckle every time. And yet, at least during my playthrough, I haven’t seen him act brutally outside of combat. The spawn would approve if my Tav were a bully (he isn't), but up until now, he never did anything himself.

I suppose during Act I and II Astarion is just this kind of a mean kid who likes to watch from the sidelines, hiding behind a tougher ally, and snicker quietly. He’s probably still too scared, still feeling too weak, still trying to get the hang of his new situation. At least, that’s how I imagine it.

Travelling with Tav and others empowers him, little by little. It’s a good thing in general, but there are bumps in the road. As I watched Astarion manhandle Petras, I realized what happens if the work stops halfway – if Astarion gets confident enough to act on his own, but not confident enough to understand he doesn't need to be cruel to show others his worth.

People who are truly self-assured don't need to prove this by outbursts of brutality. They can afford to show clemency. The scene with Petras and Dal shows Astarion still isn't free of Cazador’s influence, as he keeps confusing cruelty with power and power with self-worth. So he has grown enough to take action (instead of letting others handle things and watching from the sidelines), but the underlying motivation remains to avoid appearing weak. Deep inside, there's still anxiety, fear and self-loathing.

There's one more factor that plays a significant role in this scene. Astarion acts tough in front of his siblings, because now he has backup. 

You have no idea what I can do. The sun can’t harm me, Cazador can’t compel me. I don’t need to fear him anymore.

Boastful, isn’t he? So different from the time when my Tav first suggested disposing of Cazador. I still remember how Astarion snapped at Yae for not knowing what he’s saying or who he’d be facing.

But why do I get the feeling Astarion is trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to convince others? And that he’s trying to impress his companions as much as he’s trying to intimidate Dal and Petras?

Soon enough, the façade crumbles, as Astarion starts to discuss the event with Tav. He gets defensive, he comes up with a whole range of excuses, explanations and justifications. He may even say he's capable of doing the right thing once in a while, as if he deserves a medal for not burning Petras to ash.

I think a part of him knows he overreacted. And the insistent voice in his head tells him other companions will judge him for that and abandon him. The fear finally resurfaces at the end of the dialogue:

We are a team, aren’t we? You’re still with me?

Still placing his worth in extrinsic things, like the support of his new friends. Still so scared of being alone. Remember that memory of the year spent sealed away in darkness?

This is such a potent cutscene; it gave me a lot to chew on, especially regarding headcanons and the relationship between my Tav and Astarion. Yae is no saint himself, but the display of unnecessary cruelty gives him pause. He may need time to process what happened, and temporarily keep more distance from Astarion, which the latter will – of course – read in the worst way possible. There will be misunderstandings, angst, arguments, reconciliations.

But this is a story for a different time.

⊱✿⊰

Postscript:

The date on the file tells me I've written this text over a month ago. 

But then anxiety kicked in. What if I'm wrong? I haven't even finished the game once, I have no right to join in the conversation! I know nothing, I haven't played any of the origin stories! What if there's that obscure bit of dialogue you only get by playing the game for an umpteenth time in a very specific way that sheds entirely new light on this scene? I'm not as smart/observant/articulate/whatever as others!

It took me almost six weeks to realize I can't let my anxious brain win this one. Even if I'm “wrong” (can personal interpretations and impressions really be “wrong”?), this is a testament to how much I've grown to enjoy the game and love the characters and their stories. So, if you've reached the end of this post and even read this postscript – thank you. This is an important step in my fight against the Anxious Brain.

When the player first meets Wyll you can ask him about his stone eye and he'll reply: "It's made from pure Bloodstone, carved from the Galena Mountains just north of the Moonsea. A reminder that sometimes, blood must be shed and sacrifices must be made."

And I, knowing nothing about Wyll at the time, took one look at his eye and went: "No, the fuck it ain't!"

See, if you know anything about bloodstone, you know that it's called that because it looks like it has drops of blood trapped in it:

[Heliotrope (aka Bloodstone) from Wikipedia]

The plain light grey stone of Wyll's eye is clearly not bloodstone, even at a glance. So, why would Wyll call it bloodstone?

While I don't think Wyll is above lying, and he tells a good story, it's an odd lie to tell in the first place. Any lie that can be dismantled by somewhat common knowledge is a poor lie. (Or maybe I'm the weird one for immediately clocking that it wasn't bloodstone.)

What if it wasn't a lie?

We know that Wyll's eye is a sending stone and Mizora uses it to track Wyll and to give him orders. In EA Mizora could even use the stone to spy on Wyll, though there's no evidence of that in the full release.

As per DnD 5e, there aren't any rules about what type of stone has to be used to create sending stones, only that they are created in pairs and are carved identically in order to help identify the other half of the pairing. We know that Wyll lost his eye during the battle with the cult of Tiamat and we know Wyll's scarring was designed with the intent to be a "physical, intimate sign of the contract between him and his patron" and to look "like his face had been grabbed very painfully by claws or sharp nails". Coincidence? I think not. 

Wyll would have been exhausted, having just survived his encounter with the cultists. Unable to fight back, Mizora could have simply plucked his eye out of his head and before he could even ask why she would have replaced it with a stone eye. This, she might have mentioned, was an eye made of blood stone and a sending stone that they would use to communicate. She might then explain that 'blood stone' (with a space in the middle) is a type of stone found in Avernus, imbued with special properties due to its hellish provenance. Or, she might not explain it at all. This type of stone might be why Mizora is able to track Wyll (there is a magical item in DnD called a 'Blod Stone' which has this ability). There could even be further abilities from this type of stone.

And Wyll, hearing that it is bloodstone, simply comes up with a different story to explain where it came from, thinking like all good liars that it is better not to stray too far from the truth and damning himself to being discovered in the process.

(Information pulled from Wyll_InParty2_Nested_FreedMizora and Wyll_InParty2_Nested_BladeStory dialogue trees)

Oh sorry, I forgot

5. Insufferable bastard

I’ve been trying to get some good dialogue scene screenshots of Astarion, and my field research suggests that he has these modes only: 

Literal model

"Depraved carnal lust"

Sad cat

Actual gremlin

Just some of my finest amateur Astarion screenshots that make me laugh

He's always either a literal model, offended, or a weirdo. I love him.

What does it say about me that I feel like having a brain that works the way Harry Du Bois' does would be cool and efficient?

Back to the issue of Astarion's charisma after doing his personal quest:

One thing that caught my attention is the double standards the inhabitants of Cazador's Mansion display. As soon as the party arrives there, we learn of the cultist pseudo-hierarchy that seemed to be at play. Spawns other than the chosen seven call Astarion Master. But also, there's Master-Master who is not named because it's obvious in the context, and because he elicits such dread. But as soon as Astarion speaks against Cazador, people call him blasphemous or weak or ignorant.

Then we need to get to the kennel master, and Astarion confronts him about the endured torture. The skeleton says some interesting things:

Then, you go into battle with Cazador. The game gives you an option to detach Astarion from the party, and then Cazador pouts that Astarion won't even see him, and the fight is a little easier because he can't drag Astarion into the ritual circle. But according to the "happy path" that is intended as default (as we always see Astarion half-naked just like the other six spawns in the cutscene after the battle), Astarion confronts Cazador, and Cazador berates him callously before assuming direct control.

Both Godey and Cazador infantilize Astarion, portraying him as a brat, "always difficult" and petulant. Cazador weaponizes the fact that he was turned as a very young person, denying Astarion the right to mature, whatever Cazador might consider maturation by vampire standards.

This paints a picture where Astarion was cheeky in his servitude after all, which might be considered bravely stupid, but it's still telling of a certain resilience on his part being constantly tested. He "sang sweetly" to his torturer because, apparently, he kept his voice. And something about Cazador trying to mock that pattern, Astarion being loud and chatty and driven to win people over, gets an abrupt reaction that makes me think Astarion has been baited and triggered in this exact way many times before. This trait was possibly the thing that set him apart from others and gave him his unique "purpose" as a spawn.

The narrative thus indicates that he has always been a hilariously annoying chatterbox, but being called out for it by Cazador seems to wound him deeper than other quips. So here, the narrative seems to win over game mechanics in terms of telling us how good Astarion is at influencing people.

So perhaps this is a remnant of the person Astarion was before the turning, part of the reason he was picked to become Cazador's victim. Perhaps that kind of coping through humor, sarcasm and people pleasing was the core of his youthful self-image, even.

(I think citing the alleged inevitable corruption of the character after being turned into a spawn would be counterproductive at this point, and it's more plausible to consider any corruption to be a result of living in an an abusive structure).

When searching Cazador's dungeon we find proof of his keen interest in Sarevok and in the contemporary politics of Baldur's Gate. In one of the writings, he expressed concern about Gortash's Steel Watchers harming his spawns. Allegedly, he was supposed to play a greater role in the interplay between the city's factions. A question arises then, why would he tell Astarion that he amounted to nothing? Is it another offense to Astarion dying before he could be considered accomplished by social standards, or is it something else?

Could Astarion really have already been entangled with Cazador in his career as a magistrate, after all?

(I need content where we can explore his lifetime so bad, even if it means breaking into an empty ruin and finding a portrait, a handkerchief, a sheet of cheesy poems, anything)