[ There's just an edge of condescension to his voice. Astarion has never been popular among his siblings, but out of them all, it's he and Petras who get on the worst. The fact that if not for Astarion he'd have already tried to rip out Iorveth's throat with his teeth doesn't help matters. ]
Run along and find the others. One of them will know what to do with those feral creatures Cazador created.
[ Maybe. Astarion certainly doesn't know what to do with them, and he'd much rather pawn off the responsibility onto Dalyria or perhaps Leon. How could he look those wretched things in the face, knowing that he put them there? Worse, he'd have to tell them that they aren't allowed to eat anyone in the Gate after years, decades, centuries of starvation.
No. Let that be someone else's problem. Petras opens his mouth to speak, and Astarion cuts him off with an emphatic, ] I said run along.
[ Petras turns with a scowl, shoulders hunched in annoyance. Just as quickly as he'd shooed him away, Astarion calls out, ] Wait. [ Petras doesn't turn to face them again, but he does pause. It's good enough. ] Do clean up after your meal. It would be embarrassing if a monster hunter followed a trail of blood right to you.
[ Cazador had played them against each other. He'd had them tattle on each other like children, made them torture each other in horrendous ways. After all of that, Astarion still can't help but feel a small kinship with the other spawn. Siblings not by heredity, but siblings all the same.
Petras doesn't reply, but that also means that he doesn't argue. As he stalks off into the night to find a poor, unsuspecting victim, Astarion turns away and collapses onto the stone perch again, shoulders sagging in exhaustion. Seeing his siblings always makes him feel like his old self again, peevish and tense. ]
The gall to think I'd let his filthy fangs anywhere near you.
no subject
[ There's just an edge of condescension to his voice. Astarion has never been popular among his siblings, but out of them all, it's he and Petras who get on the worst. The fact that if not for Astarion he'd have already tried to rip out Iorveth's throat with his teeth doesn't help matters. ]
Run along and find the others. One of them will know what to do with those feral creatures Cazador created.
[ Maybe. Astarion certainly doesn't know what to do with them, and he'd much rather pawn off the responsibility onto Dalyria or perhaps Leon. How could he look those wretched things in the face, knowing that he put them there? Worse, he'd have to tell them that they aren't allowed to eat anyone in the Gate after years, decades, centuries of starvation.
No. Let that be someone else's problem. Petras opens his mouth to speak, and Astarion cuts him off with an emphatic, ] I said run along.
[ Petras turns with a scowl, shoulders hunched in annoyance. Just as quickly as he'd shooed him away, Astarion calls out, ] Wait. [ Petras doesn't turn to face them again, but he does pause. It's good enough. ] Do clean up after your meal. It would be embarrassing if a monster hunter followed a trail of blood right to you.
[ Cazador had played them against each other. He'd had them tattle on each other like children, made them torture each other in horrendous ways. After all of that, Astarion still can't help but feel a small kinship with the other spawn. Siblings not by heredity, but siblings all the same.
Petras doesn't reply, but that also means that he doesn't argue. As he stalks off into the night to find a poor, unsuspecting victim, Astarion turns away and collapses onto the stone perch again, shoulders sagging in exhaustion. Seeing his siblings always makes him feel like his old self again, peevish and tense. ]
The gall to think I'd let his filthy fangs anywhere near you.