[ How did they get here? Looking back, he had presumed them to be on one of two paths, either "is he going to murder me" or "is he voting me off hypothetical bedmate island by mere cosmetic virtue of looks and will I wonder about that more than a responsible adult should." And now the unanticipated third path arises: RSVP to a rendezvous, sans musings about vampiric bed habits with the close quarters potential for murder.
Yetâ He's come out with dividends for the casting of lots, compelling him to sit up straighter. Already smiling unconsciously in anticipation at this unexpectedâbut not objectionableâfork in the road that unanswered questions does little to dampen.
He can't count it a loss, certainly. Fair to say on his personal scale of most "least fun" to "most fun" ways to pass an evening, death via exsanguination is at the bottom, while dicing games and filling too-empty beds with company float near the top. But going out for a bit of revelry with company? It ranks about evenâdiffering thrills, equivalent rewards. In spite of it being his thrown gauntlet, only in facing he's locked in to making it happen does a surge of eagerness follow. Truthfully, he does quite like dancing. They could have a good time? Doing something... normal. Light, it's been a while since he's had so much as the opportunity for it. And even if a creature of the night currently with a tadpole in his brain had designs to be some manner of tit about it, Mat thinks he could turn him onto liking a dance or two.
(âto like it with him? Does that matter? Insane to think why not?
Maybe. Maybe not. And maybe it would be worthwhile to fashion a few pleasant hours as the culmination to their stand-off, if nothing else were to come of it; to just make a night of it together and see how prissy the master of priss is off the clock.) ]
Okay, it's a date. [ Round one. ] I'll look into it.
[ Ideas percolate as he says as much. There's always an excuse to strike up dancing music somewhere... and if they went into the cityâ? ]
Hey, no promises, no disappointments, right? As long as everyone's enjoying themselves, that's all that matters. That's enough for me.
[ Better to rip the bandaid off and say things that need saying; best not to hold anyone to anything when promises can so easily curdle to betrayed expectations, or blow away with the wind.
Apt to say he might spread his wings; it isn't the first time someone has named him a bird that startles to flight at the first hint of being held down, and he has no desire to hold anyone by the foot, either. So no promises neededâAstarion is free to dance how, and around, and to whom he likes, the same for him. ]
no subject
Yetâ He's come out with dividends for the casting of lots, compelling him to sit up straighter. Already smiling unconsciously in anticipation at this unexpectedâbut not objectionableâfork in the road that unanswered questions does little to dampen.
He can't count it a loss, certainly. Fair to say on his personal scale of most "least fun" to "most fun" ways to pass an evening, death via exsanguination is at the bottom, while dicing games and filling too-empty beds with company float near the top. But going out for a bit of revelry with company? It ranks about evenâdiffering thrills, equivalent rewards. In spite of it being his thrown gauntlet, only in facing he's locked in to making it happen does a surge of eagerness follow. Truthfully, he does quite like dancing. They could have a good time? Doing something... normal. Light, it's been a while since he's had so much as the opportunity for it. And even if a creature of the night currently with a tadpole in his brain had designs to be some manner of tit about it, Mat thinks he could turn him onto liking a dance or two.
(âto like it with him? Does that matter? Insane to think why not?
Maybe. Maybe not. And maybe it would be worthwhile to fashion a few pleasant hours as the culmination to their stand-off, if nothing else were to come of it; to just make a night of it together and see how prissy the master of priss is off the clock.) ]
Okay, it's a date. [ Round one. ] I'll look into it.
[ Ideas percolate as he says as much. There's always an excuse to strike up dancing music somewhere... and if they went into the cityâ? ]
Hey, no promises, no disappointments, right? As long as everyone's enjoying themselves, that's all that matters. That's enough for me.
[ Better to rip the bandaid off and say things that need saying; best not to hold anyone to anything when promises can so easily curdle to betrayed expectations, or blow away with the wind.
Apt to say he might spread his wings; it isn't the first time someone has named him a bird that startles to flight at the first hint of being held down, and he has no desire to hold anyone by the foot, either. So no promises neededâAstarion is free to dance how, and around, and to whom he likes, the same for him. ]