[ Astarion can't help but crack a smile at Iorveth's offense. It's adorable that that's what he takes umbrage with; Iorveth, the dangerous terrorist, up in arms because someone didn't think him the pampering type. He presses his palm against Iorveth's arm, a placating gesture, as if to say, yes, darling, you're an excellent mollycoddler. In truth, there's probably no amount of coddling that could truly satisfy Astarion, but Iorveth has grown significantly more permissive. ]
Yet you're not offended by the offering of a drow foursome, I see.
[ It's all right to assume Iorveth is interested in freaky, forbidden group sex, just not that he doesn't properly pamper his vampire. Astarion snorts a little, then frowns. ]
I should have wanted that.
[ It's exactly the sort of hedonistic display of excessive self-indulgence he should be interested in. He feels a little angry with himself for feeling so threatened by the prospect; even now, Cazador's influence reaches from beyond the grave. ]
no subject
Yet you're not offended by the offering of a drow foursome, I see.
[ It's all right to assume Iorveth is interested in freaky, forbidden group sex, just not that he doesn't properly pamper his vampire. Astarion snorts a little, then frowns. ]
I should have wanted that.
[ It's exactly the sort of hedonistic display of excessive self-indulgence he should be interested in. He feels a little angry with himself for feeling so threatened by the prospect; even now, Cazador's influence reaches from beyond the grave. ]