[ "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 reasonsβbut 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.
You know, I hadn't considered the idea of a conversational fee before. It's not a bad idea β but I'll waive it, at least, for you, even if your apparent initial impression of me is not one I would call flattering.
[ He stops just short of a precipice that he finds uncomfortable β namely, bringing the idea of being paid of his time too far into the mix, considering the degree to which such a principle had been central to his life under the heel of Cazador's boot. But that's not stuff for polite β or flirtatious β conversation.
As for the latter part of Mat's message, wellβ it's nice, isn't it, to be asked?
It occurs to him, in a pathetic sort of way (pathetic to him, in how much he finds he likes it), that no one's really bothered to ask before. Part of it, he supposes he could chalk up to the fact that most interactions he'd had had been part of an active hunt, in which it was more his prerogative to suss such things out, but on the other handβ it's new, plain and simple. And, as such, he finds himself a little lost as to how to address any of it honestly.
He debates an I'm not picky to suffice, but that's not entirely true. ]
I'll admit to a taste for pretty things, but that's somewhat less imperative to me than, shall we say, a little fun. And as far as vampire-related considerations go ... so long as you aren't about to drive a non-metaphorical stake through my heart (the metaphorical sort, I can weather), I'd say there's nothing to worry yourself about.
[ The tadpole has taken care of quite a lot, after all, and thank the gods for that. Not being able to walk in the sun is a considerable hamper to almost any normal activity, as is the need to explicitly be invited into a home before getting up to mischief. ]
As for the latter consideration: besides, as far as prettiness and fun go, you have both in spades.
[ Is this it? Is this the vampire spawn's confession he's been sitting on long-held feelings of smitten provenance? π Ooooh, how do gothic romance protagonists handle the suspense? He'd be distraught to learn the other has a fleeting infatuation with his curl game only until one (terribly shaven, nearly bald) beefcake by the name of Rand al'Thor regrows those luscious red ringlets again. Utterly distraught. ]
Oh? What's this? You mean to say you were knocked off your feet the first time you laid eyes on me?
[ Give him an inch and he'll favorably and jestingly interpret a mile, all but confirming Astarion's point that teasing and dallying overlap to a synonymous degreeβand which side of the line it falls has been known to rest on how partial others are to it. Some don't warm to the crooked smiles, the slynessβbut then, Astarion's a sly shit, too, isn't he.
The honest truth, if he were inclined to serve it up without a tussle to drag it out of him, is he likes the vampire's propensity to gambol, loosening some of those early preconceived misgivings. It may in fact be a wonder he's survived as long as he has avoiding honey traps in the form of gorgeous faces, but finding a playful vampire interesting enough to stick his hand into the lion's maw. ]
I had no idea you were so sweet on me all this time. Don't be shy. Here you could've just said hello.
That's all, though? You're easy to please. Don't you worry. Hearts are delicate and the one thing you can't replace, I wouldn't handle them as roughly as that. Plus, that sounds like an awful lot of work, even more than the wash basin.
[ Seriously, a stake? Does that actually happen? Puts a new spin on a heartbreaker. He'll give Astarion another for free and refrain from throwing garlic or blessed water in his face short of only the most homicidal, life-preserving requirements. ]
Comparing our definitions of fun, thoughβthat I can do. I'll let you know.
[ The important thing is that, as far as Astarion can tell (and he fancies himself a rather good judge of character, though the truth may be less that and more an inherent unwillingness to give his trust away), the type of slyness that runs in Mat's behavior isn't born out of malice, or at least not any malice beyond a vague desire to see puffed-up fools appropriately un-puffed. Which is a matter of cosmic balance, ultimately, if one thinks of it a little more generously. ]
But hello is awfully boring, isn't it? Besides, I had to make sure there was something else to you besides a handsome face.
[ A truth β or a half-truth, at the very least. Again, he hadn't really intended upon agreeing to anything more, let alone an actual date, and yet here they are. Miracles really do happen. ]
And I wouldn't describe myself as easy to please β rather, let's say I've been taken by a generous mood. My present to you.
[ As much as his avoidance of any further heart-talk, lest they tread into too-sentimental territory for what is essentially a lead-up. (And, unfortunately, yes, staking really does happen, though one could sufficiently argue that a piece of wood driven through one's heart would be enough to dispatch pretty much anyone or anything, vampire spawn or no.) ]
Well, then, petal β I'll be waiting. Don't dally too long.
[ Turning his own ribbing around on him? The audacity. ]
As long as you DO admit, on record, once and for all, I'm a handsome devil.
I'm a fair person, too, [ sources needed ] if you need suggestions to add to that list. I would've called us even for budging on that point, but since you're feeling generous... why, yes, thank you, I have substance for days. I'll wow your metaphorical socks off instead.
[ Blithe as the words may read, he's smiling, pleased for all the mock quibbles along the way. ]
And let you get cold(er) feet? You're not getting off the hook that easy.
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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 reasonsβbut 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
[ He stops just short of a precipice that he finds uncomfortable β namely, bringing the idea of being paid of his time too far into the mix, considering the degree to which such a principle had been central to his life under the heel of Cazador's boot. But that's not stuff for polite β or flirtatious β conversation.
As for the latter part of Mat's message, wellβ it's nice, isn't it, to be asked?
It occurs to him, in a pathetic sort of way (pathetic to him, in how much he finds he likes it), that no one's really bothered to ask before. Part of it, he supposes he could chalk up to the fact that most interactions he'd had had been part of an active hunt, in which it was more his prerogative to suss such things out, but on the other handβ it's new, plain and simple. And, as such, he finds himself a little lost as to how to address any of it honestly.
He debates an I'm not picky to suffice, but that's not entirely true. ]
I'll admit to a taste for pretty things, but that's somewhat less imperative to me than, shall we say, a little fun. And as far as vampire-related considerations go ... so long as you aren't about to drive a non-metaphorical stake through my heart (the metaphorical sort, I can weather), I'd say there's nothing to worry yourself about.
[ The tadpole has taken care of quite a lot, after all, and thank the gods for that. Not being able to walk in the sun is a considerable hamper to almost any normal activity, as is the need to explicitly be invited into a home before getting up to mischief. ]
As for the latter consideration: besides, as far as prettiness and fun go, you have both in spades.
no subject
Oh? What's this? You mean to say you were knocked off your feet the first time you laid eyes on me?
[ Give him an inch and he'll favorably and jestingly interpret a mile, all but confirming Astarion's point that teasing and dallying overlap to a synonymous degreeβand which side of the line it falls has been known to rest on how partial others are to it. Some don't warm to the crooked smiles, the slynessβbut then, Astarion's a sly shit, too, isn't he.
The honest truth, if he were inclined to serve it up without a tussle to drag it out of him, is he likes the vampire's propensity to gambol, loosening some of those early preconceived misgivings. It may in fact be a wonder he's survived as long as he has avoiding honey traps in the form of gorgeous faces, but finding a playful vampire interesting enough to stick his hand into the lion's maw. ]
I had no idea you were so sweet on me all this time. Don't be shy. Here you could've just said hello.
That's all, though? You're easy to please. Don't you worry. Hearts are delicate and the one thing you can't replace, I wouldn't handle them as roughly as that. Plus, that sounds like an awful lot of work, even more than the wash basin.
[ Seriously, a stake? Does that actually happen? Puts a new spin on a heartbreaker. He'll give Astarion another for free and refrain from throwing garlic or blessed water in his face short of only the most homicidal, life-preserving requirements. ]
Comparing our definitions of fun, thoughβthat I can do. I'll let you know.
no subject
But hello is awfully boring, isn't it? Besides, I had to make sure there was something else to you besides a handsome face.
[ A truth β or a half-truth, at the very least. Again, he hadn't really intended upon agreeing to anything more, let alone an actual date, and yet here they are. Miracles really do happen. ]
And I wouldn't describe myself as easy to please β rather, let's say I've been taken by a generous mood. My present to you.
[ As much as his avoidance of any further heart-talk, lest they tread into too-sentimental territory for what is essentially a lead-up. (And, unfortunately, yes, staking really does happen, though one could sufficiently argue that a piece of wood driven through one's heart would be enough to dispatch pretty much anyone or anything, vampire spawn or no.) ]
Well, then, petal β I'll be waiting. Don't dally too long.
no subject
As long as you DO admit, on record, once and for all, I'm a handsome devil.
I'm a fair person, too, [ sources needed ] if you need suggestions to add to that list. I would've called us even for budging on that point, but since you're feeling generous... why, yes, thank you, I have substance for days. I'll wow your metaphorical socks off instead.
[ Blithe as the words may read, he's smiling, pleased for all the mock quibbles along the way. ]
And let you get cold(er) feet? You're not getting off the hook that easy.