divinestrike | Overflow / Open Post

I can just imagine how this will go. You'll give these ridiculous voices to the characters and instead of it being tantalising at all, it'll only be funny. Unless your goal here is to make me laugh, because that's not usually what those books are for, I think.

[ With genuine offense: ] I take my duty of being tantalizing very seriously, you know.

Ugh, fine - I suppose we can just gossip about which of the group would make the ugliest mindflayer.

I can assure you that you don't need a book to be tantalising.

[Doesn't he know that. It's tantalising enough to let him watch her bathe.]

Why don't you just come down to the river when you're tired of Wyll. I promise I will not rush through my bath. And we'll see what happens. Books. Mindflayer discussions. Whatever have you.

I've been tired of Wyll since this morning.

[ Who gets up in the morning and greets the day with a smile? It's unnatural. ]

Then don't keep me waiting. My patience might seem infinite, but it's not. Less so for cunning boys.

[There. Cunning works. Neither good, nor bad. Although complimentary, regardless.]

[ Sassy. Maybe she's not as toothless as he thought. ]

Don't do anything too exciting without me.

[ He, of course, will be fashionably late on purpose. ]

[Of course he will. Because he's a menace.]

Of course not. Gods forbid you miss a single crucial moment of me undressing and pulling my hair up.

[That might be intentional. Maybe she wants to repay him in kind with some jabs of her own.]

If you aren't allowing me to dip into your dirty book collection [ and yes, he has decided it's a collection ] then it's the least you can do.

I don't have a collection. I have, perhaps, once or twice, procured, one or two of those books and read them. If you feel you can't survive without them, then have at it, I guess. There are so many better ways of getting under my skin than irritating me.

Oh, really?

Has this all been a clever ruse to break me down and just give in so you stop annoying me?

Not at all. On my honor, I won't touch you unless you're begging for it.

[ And he won't stop being annoying even if she begs for it. ]

As if I'd give you the satisfaction of hearing me beg for anything.

[...Loathe as she is to admit it, that's not exactly out of the realm of possibility, but pride tells her that he would never let her live it down.]

Pity.

[ He's not too cut up about it. It's a workable situation. ]

I'm sure we can find other ways to enjoy ourselves. Speaking of, I'm coming down by the river to get under your lovely skin.

I do so appreciate a warning. Perhaps say something when you arrive, so you don't give me a fright. I know how good you are at being inconspicuous.

[This is not one of those occasions where he should feel he must needs sneak. As long as he announces himself, she won't be tempted to throw something at him. Either way, he'll likely find her with quite the very tidy pile of garments and far too much hair messily pulled up and pinned in place every which way.]

[ Considerate as ever, Astarion makes no attempt at a stealthy approach, opting instead for put-upon swagger as he lazily strides towards Nepione, as if in no real hurry to get there. Once he's within earshot, he stops, calling out in a voice that drips with sarcasm: ]

Boo.

[ She did ask him to announce himself, after all. ]

[Tucking some of her hair behind her ear, his little greeting is... about what she's come to expect of him. It's considerably better than him sidling right on up to her. She hears well, undoubtedly, but Astarion is a master of being light of foot. He could probably catch her unawares if he truly wanted to.]

Yes, hello.

[She's giving him a quick once-over, mostly curious to know if he did, in fact, go through her belongings for scandalous texts that evidently don't belong in a cleric's hands.]

I doubt I need to say this, but we don't discuss this— [She motions between the two of them.] —with the others. I'm not going to invite a plethora of people to my bathing rituals.

[ His hands are (fortunately for her) free of any dirty books. He could conjure a trashier, bawdier story out of thin air, no book required. He places a free hand on his hip, posing languidly as he allows his eyes to rove over her body. It's a move he's done hundreds of times before, on hundreds of bodies, practiced until perfect. After a long, leisurely moment, he meets her gaze again. ]

Obviously.

[ She needn't tell him twice. Special treatment is good. ]

Can you imagine if Halsin invited himself? Or Lae'zel? [ The two horniest members of the camp, obviously. ] So annoying.

[ Not like him. ]

[The moment she takes notice of his attention, she shifts in just such a way that she thinks is a little more modest. That does little about the heat rising to her cheeks. Fine. Let him look some moments, she thinks, before she abruptly turns her back to him to make way for the water, leaning down to snatch up conveniently placed soap and cloth.]

Didn't you kind of do the same thing? You didn't exactly ask. I didn't exactly say you couldn't. I guess the circumstances are a little different. I still don't get the interest, but better than you deliberately trying to stir up trouble.

[They have enough of it without his antics, amusing though they may sometimes be.]

[ When she puts it that way, yes, he did invite himself. It's different because he was ever so charming about it.

Astarion lowers himself down to sit by the riverside, stretching out his legs and cocking his head as he watches Nepione with a sort of cool interest. As he observes her, he takes note of her response to being watched, tucking it away for future use. ]

Who says I'm not stirring up trouble now?

[ He smiles impishly. ]

I believe that, actually. Is there ever a moment in which you're not.

[Not a question. Or, if it is, more rhetorical in nature. She's confident that the answer to that is a very resounding 'no.' She doesn't need him to weigh in on it to come to that conclusion either.

She tries, very hard, to treat this bath, this very innocent dip in the river, like all of the other ones she ever takes, but there are some slight, unnatural pauses to her movements. As if she has to be more conscientious about how she moves and bends, even with the most subtle of motions. Not because she's trying to show off, but because she's trying to show as little as possible.

A bit pointless when she's naked. It would almost be easier to tell him to go downstream and clean himself.]

Am I going to come back to camp proper to chaos?

[ He giggles with an almost malicious glee. ]

Oh, almost certainly! But it won't be my fault.

[ Shadowheart and Lae'zel at each other's throats. Gale wallowing over his lost goddess. Karlach five seconds away from setting the place on fire. Wyll running after every wrong that must be righted with his hero complex. Astarion's not the only troublemaker in the camp; he's just the only one that does it on purpose. ]

Ah, but aren't you tired of thinking of them all the time? [ He makes a face. So boring. ] For now, you need only think of me.

[The way he says it makes her wonder. It's not particularly easing any of the concern that she's got welling up inside of her. But maybe it'll just be... another day, another night, another time of the same. Ironic that a group of misfits such as them have even gotten this fire? Halsin, right now, seems like the most unobtrusive.

Maybe it's all the fault of the tadpole.

Looking over her shoulder to where he's seated himself, she raises an eyebrow.]

Think of you? [She asks, almost incredulous.] And what do you want me to think of you, hmm? [Although, he gets what he wants. The more he frustrates her, agitates her, attempts to get under her skin, antagonises her, the more she does, in fact, think about him.]

[ Astarion places a hand to his unbeating heart in a sarcastic display of honorability. ]

Only true things. Impossibly beautiful, irresistibly charming, effortlessly captivating.

I don't really think you need me to think or say any of that to you.

[She turns and offers up her hands in what can only be interpreted as some melodramatic shrug on her part before she resumes drawing soap and cloth along an arm.]

You think all of that so much already, why would it matter if anyone else did?

[Except it's not that easy. It is... possible that he doesn't really think any of that, but wants to and needs that validation through someone else. That hasn't escaped her. But it's just as possible that he is every bit as arrogant as he postures himself to be. Nepione cannot determine which one of those is truth and which is not.]

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