[The thing is: a drink would make this entire experience so much more pleasant.
Unprofessional, assuredly, but on the other hand: it isn't as if he has to be on his best behavior tonight. That's the benefit of going to a mid-tier club in Athkatla: no one knows who they are or would care even if they did. There's no paparazzi crowding at the door, eager to embarrass the heir to the Ancunín line, and even if anyone does recognizes Astarion (doubtful to the point of incredulity), so what? They'll either assume they're mistaken or they'll be too drugged up to give a damn. The most work Fenris will have to do tonight is make sure Astarion staggers back to his hotel instead of falling asleep in some gutter. And if he gets tipsy, he can still outfight damn near anyone in this city, muggers or what have you.
Still . . .]
Why are you attempting to be nice to me?
[He says it bluntly, his expression wooden in that way it always gets around Violet. Petras is harmlessly annoying and, admittedly, sort of amusing in small doses, but she reminds him too much of Hadriana. Sometimes to the point where it makes him unfair, perhaps.
'Do we really need a reason?' Petras asks, and laughs when Fenris bluntly answers:]
You always have before.
[Violet takes a moment to roll her eyes at her friend, then turns her attention back to Fenris. 'You clearly aren't going anywhere,' she says with matter-of-fact sharpness. 'Astarion's fond of you, and that means you're— well. Not one of us, but something close to it. So why shouldn't we throw you a bone or two?
'Besides,' she continues, and lays a hand on his shoulder so she can lean in close, 'we've already bought it. But if you aren't going to . . .'
Hells.]
If this is laced with something . . .
[He says it as he picks up the whiskey, ignoring the way his tattoos flare eagerly in reaction to the magic. In one swift motion he knocks the entire glass back, ignoring (and secretly flattered with) the somewhat sardonic whistles of admiration from the other two.
'Good,' Violet praises cooingly, and he scowls at her.]
no subject
Unprofessional, assuredly, but on the other hand: it isn't as if he has to be on his best behavior tonight. That's the benefit of going to a mid-tier club in Athkatla: no one knows who they are or would care even if they did. There's no paparazzi crowding at the door, eager to embarrass the heir to the Ancunín line, and even if anyone does recognizes Astarion (doubtful to the point of incredulity), so what? They'll either assume they're mistaken or they'll be too drugged up to give a damn. The most work Fenris will have to do tonight is make sure Astarion staggers back to his hotel instead of falling asleep in some gutter. And if he gets tipsy, he can still outfight damn near anyone in this city, muggers or what have you.
Still . . .]
Why are you attempting to be nice to me?
[He says it bluntly, his expression wooden in that way it always gets around Violet. Petras is harmlessly annoying and, admittedly, sort of amusing in small doses, but she reminds him too much of Hadriana. Sometimes to the point where it makes him unfair, perhaps.
'Do we really need a reason?' Petras asks, and laughs when Fenris bluntly answers:]
You always have before.
[Violet takes a moment to roll her eyes at her friend, then turns her attention back to Fenris. 'You clearly aren't going anywhere,' she says with matter-of-fact sharpness. 'Astarion's fond of you, and that means you're— well. Not one of us, but something close to it. So why shouldn't we throw you a bone or two?
'Besides,' she continues, and lays a hand on his shoulder so she can lean in close, 'we've already bought it. But if you aren't going to . . .'
Hells.]
If this is laced with something . . .
[He says it as he picks up the whiskey, ignoring the way his tattoos flare eagerly in reaction to the magic. In one swift motion he knocks the entire glass back, ignoring (and secretly flattered with) the somewhat sardonic whistles of admiration from the other two.
'Good,' Violet praises cooingly, and he scowls at her.]
Do not push it. Is Astarion still out dancing?