[ "A maybe kiss of death," among forty possible endings in this edition of Choose Your Own Adventure. ]
A warm and fuzzy quaver, maybe. I thought there was a solid chance you were an insufferable prat who'd make me pay a toll fee for the conversation. [ aka he can reconcile vampiric dietary restrictions as part and parcel of the world, but the barest whiff of "most popular snob in high school" and the prejudicial torches and pitchforks of negging generalizations come out.
Guess we'll both see. It puts him in a similar boat, really, not expecting the conversation to run the length it has, or make the turns it has, if for different reasons—but he's willing to eat crow when wrong. Neither would he say he'd be disappointed continuing to be wrong.
He does his best not to linger on dead-ends or intrigues that fizzle, but on the opposite hand, dare he say he might even be a tad disappointed if the other backed down from their stand-off before knowing how it plays out?
As you are, he returns. Well! How can he say no with Astarion going to such pains to ramp up flutters into blushes? (Not today, Satan.) Despite the well of compliments to drop coppers into on offer, assumptions of a bloodless and willing encore barely fazes him beyond the burst of amusement that follows. After all, it'd seem to imply a high likelihood of shaking a legitimate confession out of Astarion that he's heart-struck by this handsome face atop his neck (or else determined to get close to him for another reason, but you know; let a guy have his fantasies it's always the former). ]
I was aiming along the lines of likes or dislikes, personal interests, venue picks, possibly vampire-related considerations I should know about... But hey, if you want to shower me in praise, knock yourself out.
no subject
A warm and fuzzy quaver, maybe. I thought there was a solid chance you were an insufferable prat who'd make me pay a toll fee for the conversation. [ aka he can reconcile vampiric dietary restrictions as part and parcel of the world, but the barest whiff of "most popular snob in high school" and the prejudicial torches and pitchforks of negging generalizations come out.
Guess we'll both see. It puts him in a similar boat, really, not expecting the conversation to run the length it has, or make the turns it has, if for different reasons—but he's willing to eat crow when wrong. Neither would he say he'd be disappointed continuing to be wrong.
He does his best not to linger on dead-ends or intrigues that fizzle, but on the opposite hand, dare he say he might even be a tad disappointed if the other backed down from their stand-off before knowing how it plays out?
As you are, he returns. Well! How can he say no with Astarion going to such pains to ramp up flutters into blushes? (Not today, Satan.) Despite the well of compliments to drop coppers into on offer, assumptions of a bloodless and willing encore barely fazes him beyond the burst of amusement that follows. After all, it'd seem to imply a high likelihood of shaking a legitimate confession out of Astarion that he's heart-struck by this handsome face atop his neck (or else determined to get close to him for another reason, but you know; let a guy have his fantasies it's always the former). ]
I was aiming along the lines of likes or dislikes, personal interests, venue picks, possibly vampire-related considerations I should know about... But hey, if you want to shower me in praise, knock yourself out.