[ Daunting. Iorveth flicks his gaze down towards his cards, poker face so perfectly intact as to be near-suspicious, the immovable lines of his stern features speaking for themselves. It isn't that Iorveth doesn't want to believe it when Astarion says something flattering about him, it's just that it seems to clash harshly with what he's built of himself over the past few decades.
His eye narrows. A little skeptical, a little exasperated by all that confident pleasantness that Astarion is radiating. Finally, Iorveth sighs and tosses his shitty hand onto the table, face-up. ]
You counted cards, [ is a statement, not an accusation. ] I should have known.
[ That's not a "yes" to the newly-issued favor, but it's not a "no", either. Iorveth, keeping his word, et cetera, ad infinitum. He reaches for the now mostly-empty first bottle of wine, and pours the rest of its contents into his empty glass. ]
I'd recommend choosing a favor that benefits you more directly.
no subject
His eye narrows. A little skeptical, a little exasperated by all that confident pleasantness that Astarion is radiating. Finally, Iorveth sighs and tosses his shitty hand onto the table, face-up. ]
You counted cards, [ is a statement, not an accusation. ] I should have known.
[ That's not a "yes" to the newly-issued favor, but it's not a "no", either. Iorveth, keeping his word, et cetera, ad infinitum. He reaches for the now mostly-empty first bottle of wine, and pours the rest of its contents into his empty glass. ]
I'd recommend choosing a favor that benefits you more directly.