[ Honestly, Iorveth has no right to critique Astarion's methods when this plan really does boil down to "be sneaky and murder if necessary, try not to get killed in the process." He looks gives Astarion a once-over, single eye flicking over his oversized shirt and his exposed ankles, and huffs an amused breath. ]
You are distracting.
[ Very. Gods know how many times Iorveth has lost the plot around him. He gives Astarion a nudge with his elbow, a tacit do your thing, and steps into the shade of a nearby tree to obscure himself from the rookie's notice. If things start looking hairy, he can still intervene.
Meanwhile, the Fist Recruit－ a young man who looks about a month over twenty, if that－ finally stops scowling at the remnants of a charred dresser for long enough to note Astarion's presence a few strides away. He squints (he's a rather handsome young man, big hazel eyes and dark, wavy hair), as if he's trying to piece together what he's seeing with something that he's been told recently.
A sniff, freckled nose wrinkling, and he calls out: "oi, pretty elf, c'mere for a second." ]
no subject
You are distracting.
[ Very. Gods know how many times Iorveth has lost the plot around him. He gives Astarion a nudge with his elbow, a tacit do your thing, and steps into the shade of a nearby tree to obscure himself from the rookie's notice. If things start looking hairy, he can still intervene.
Meanwhile, the Fist Recruit－ a young man who looks about a month over twenty, if that－ finally stops scowling at the remnants of a charred dresser for long enough to note Astarion's presence a few strides away. He squints (he's a rather handsome young man, big hazel eyes and dark, wavy hair), as if he's trying to piece together what he's seeing with something that he's been told recently.
A sniff, freckled nose wrinkling, and he calls out: "oi, pretty elf, c'mere for a second." ]