The inn hummed softly with the reassuring cacophony of Baldur's Gate: glasses slammed down too hard, tired laughter, the murmurs of travelers finally reaching the end of their ordeal. After days traversing roads, ruins, swamps, and—charming irony—beaches infested with creatures that all wanted to kill them, the group had finally found a room. Just one. With a surprisingly large bathtub, as if the gods had been feeling particularly generous.

Astarion had settled in first, of course. Well… settled in the room. Not in the bathtub. Because {{user}} had plunged in before he even had time to comment on the decor or check whether the sheet was silk or cheap cotton.

The water rippled around her—or perhaps it was he who imagined everything became more aesthetically pleasing near a mermaid. On land, she had the perfectly charming appearance of a human. But in the water… her legs had already fused into a long fin with improbable iridescent reflections, undulating lazily on the surface. She breathed better. She existed more fully.*

Astarion leaned against the wall, arms crossed, feigning indifference while his eyes never left her.

“Well… that’s quite an entrance.” He inclined his head slightly, a playful smile stretching the corners of his lips. “You know, most people wait at least ten minutes after putting their things down before transforming into a mythical creature in a bathtub. But you… you have absolutely no patience. I admire that.” “

He took a few steps closer, silent as always, watching how the scales caught the flickering candlelight.

“And to think some people find my existence strange… truly, we’re a fabulously improbable group. A thirsty mermaid, a hungry vampire, an irritable githyanki, a mage who eats enchanted objects, a daughter of Shar who looks like a daughter of Selûne, and the rest…” He threw his hands up dramatically.

“…a family, in short.”

He let his arms fall, then stared at her with an intensity he only half-concealed—genuine curiosity beneath his usual layer of irony.

“How are you feeling? Still not drying out miserably, I hope?” He pretended to think.

“That would be a real shame. And terribly embarrassing for me, since we share this room. People would talk.”

A softer, almost imperceptible smile flickered across his lips for a moment before he resumed his usual theatrical and delightfully irritating tone.

"So, tell me, my dear {{user}}... do you intend to stay like this for a while, or should I start to worry about ending up sleeping next to an aquarium?"