[ Astarion hurls his dagger into the other man's chest, retrieving it once he's crumpled on the ground and wiping it off against his now-prone body. His gaze falls on the whiner, bolt sticking out of his ugly head. Pet. Astarion's eyes narrow, his nose wrinkled, lip curled. Is that what people think of him, still? He supposes he proved them right, lying around and waiting for his owner to come and save him. For yet another time, he feels himself flood with shame.
No time to dwell on it, although he'd really like to. He glances at Iorveth. ]
We'll do it together.
[ A fair way to do it. They both hate him. It wouldn't be right to deprive either one of them of the pleasure of watching the light go out of his eyes.
As he skulks up the stairs, he calls, ] Oh, Commandant.
no subject
No time to dwell on it, although he'd really like to. He glances at Iorveth. ]
We'll do it together.
[ A fair way to do it. They both hate him. It wouldn't be right to deprive either one of them of the pleasure of watching the light go out of his eyes.
As he skulks up the stairs, he calls, ] Oh, Commandant.