[ Astarion falters for a moment, his rehearsed routine thrown off by her question. He can genuinely say that, out of all of the hundreds of people he's bedded, he's never been asked to do an impression. (Well, not that sort of impression, anyway.)
Ever flexible, he picks up again after a moment, grinning impishly. Unfortunately for Nepione, the unexpectedness of her question means he has to rely more on his actual personality than his fabricated fantasy one. ]
'Oh, Astarion. I want you. I need you. Let's incorporate this idol of Selûne into our carnal relations.'
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Ever flexible, he picks up again after a moment, grinning impishly. Unfortunately for Nepione, the unexpectedness of her question means he has to rely more on his actual personality than his fabricated fantasy one. ]
'Oh, Astarion. I want you. I need you. Let's incorporate this idol of Selûne into our carnal relations.'