[ Astarion hears rather than sees Gale's first steps toward the water, something dark curling with pleasure inside him at his successful goading. Sex may have felt rote and miserable tonight, but at least he still gleans a thrill from courting danger, egging someone else toward violence. What would the wizard do to him, if properly provoked?
There's certainly no pang of sympathy as Gale quivers for his goddess, who surely isn't watching and doesn't care. Astarion bled the whole pantheon dry in his early years with Cazador, offering everything, begging from coffin and cage and tomb. If any heard him, he was offered only silence in return.
Astarion sees Gale's watery reflection behind the empty space where his own should be, and finally turns to face him, expression cool as the blow glances off him entirely. ]
Oh, do tell, darling. What am I? [ Brows arching and head tilting in mock-curiosity, Astarion taking one step and then another in the water, closing the gap between him and Gale, gesticulating with his query. ] A monster, a charlatan?
[ He's slightly miscalculated the space between them, with the drag of the water at his ankles and give of the sand, and ends up hardly a breath away from Gale, his human heat and anger. Astarion holds that shifting ground, though, and holds Gale's gaze rather than backing up. ] I guarantee I've heard it all before.
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There's certainly no pang of sympathy as Gale quivers for his goddess, who surely isn't watching and doesn't care. Astarion bled the whole pantheon dry in his early years with Cazador, offering everything, begging from coffin and cage and tomb. If any heard him, he was offered only silence in return.
Astarion sees Gale's watery reflection behind the empty space where his own should be, and finally turns to face him, expression cool as the blow glances off him entirely. ]
Oh, do tell, darling. What am I? [ Brows arching and head tilting in mock-curiosity, Astarion taking one step and then another in the water, closing the gap between him and Gale, gesticulating with his query. ] A monster, a charlatan?
[ He's slightly miscalculated the space between them, with the drag of the water at his ankles and give of the sand, and ends up hardly a breath away from Gale, his human heat and anger. Astarion holds that shifting ground, though, and holds Gale's gaze rather than backing up. ] I guarantee I've heard it all before.