[ The worst. It's been a while, but Iorveth idly fantasizes about defenestrating Astarion again－
－only to find, distressingly, that the fantasy brings him no joy anymore. Shock! Horror. Apparently, the angry fox living under Iorveth's skin only finds satisfaction in biting people who aren't Astarion-shaped.
So. Iorveth seethes. Not angrily, but impatiently. He stares at Astarion's pretty hands sitting prettily on his pretty lap, and tries to will it into movement by the sheer strength of his fuzzy focus; he rolls a Nat 1 on that silent persuasion check. It's agonizing.
Finally, once he recovers from that staggering moment of abject failure: ] Idiot. I'd be happy to have you fondle my prick in public if you wished it. [ A half-elf on his way to paying for his drinks does a double-take as he passes by the pair's table; Iorveth barely notices. ] Give me your hands. Anywhere.
[ Hyacinth looks pleased as punch as she gives the half-elf his change. "Aren't they lovely?", she notes, to which the man just mumbles a non-committal "uh". ]
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－only to find, distressingly, that the fantasy brings him no joy anymore. Shock! Horror. Apparently, the angry fox living under Iorveth's skin only finds satisfaction in biting people who aren't Astarion-shaped.
So. Iorveth seethes. Not angrily, but impatiently. He stares at Astarion's pretty hands sitting prettily on his pretty lap, and tries to will it into movement by the sheer strength of his fuzzy focus; he rolls a Nat 1 on that silent persuasion check. It's agonizing.
Finally, once he recovers from that staggering moment of abject failure: ] Idiot. I'd be happy to have you fondle my prick in public if you wished it. [ A half-elf on his way to paying for his drinks does a double-take as he passes by the pair's table; Iorveth barely notices. ] Give me your hands. Anywhere.
[ Hyacinth looks pleased as punch as she gives the half-elf his change. "Aren't they lovely?", she notes, to which the man just mumbles a non-committal "uh". ]