The cabin has an 'expensive but soulless pre-furnished apartment' look to it, save: the curtains (badly torn, neatly mended), the sewing machine and ongoing projects on a desk in one corner, and the weapons hanging from one wall.
"The death toll is rather wretched, as you'll be aware.I'm just looking forward to giving our new shipmate a more personal way to experience it."
"Oh yes. We'd never talked, I'd never even seen him, I was merely his
target of choice."
Asshole psychopath things indeed. Astarion isn't the most discerning
killer, but he tends not to murder people just to test how easily or
reversibly they die.
She's aware that Astarion is not the most readily truthful person, for a few reasons; but she flatters herself that he wouldn't outright lie to her when asked a direct question, and so she nods.
"It occurred to me he'd learn more about it by going through a death toll himself," is where she's arrived at, honestly.
"Oh, he's probably already factored into his plans that I'll be returning
the favour," Astarion says, rolling his eyes. "Now that he's confirmed his
death won't stick."
There is a part of her, a very small part, that sees that raised eyebrow and wants to shrink out from under it right now. She's exhausted, and she's tired of hurting, and she is sick of being doubted.
But the world isn't fair. She tightens her jaw on it, and looks away.
"I have yet to find another way to take them," Astarion admits, slipping
back into looking just tired and unwell. "Had your - guest left anything
for you, after all that was done?"
"He was worried about me. Said if I decide not to give people here a chance, make sure it's actually them and not... other things. And that's dirty fucking pool, considering."
"That's why it's not just 'give people a chance.' We both survived the same virus, the same world. He knows as well as I do the kind of shit people will do to other people if given half a chance."
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The cabin has an 'expensive but soulless pre-furnished apartment' look to it, save: the curtains (badly torn, neatly mended), the sewing machine and ongoing projects on a desk in one corner, and the weapons hanging from one wall.
"The death toll is rather wretched, as you'll be aware.I'm just looking forward to giving our new shipmate a more personal way to experience it."
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She drifts over, glancing at the cat but ultimately looking him over.
"Was it really like he said?"
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"In what sense? He was able to sneak up on me, if that's what you mean. Not my finest moment."
Honestly, it's embarrassing, but - well, a lesson learned. He's getting sloppy and he can't afford to.
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"He just decided to, out of nowhere?"
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"Oh yes. We'd never talked, I'd never even seen him, I was merely his target of choice."
Asshole psychopath things indeed. Astarion isn't the most discerning killer, but he tends not to murder people just to test how easily or reversibly they die.
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"It occurred to me he'd learn more about it by going through a death toll himself," is where she's arrived at, honestly.
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"Oh, he's probably already factored into his plans that I'll be returning the favour," Astarion says, rolling his eyes. "Now that he's confirmed his death won't stick."
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"You didn't want an apology."
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Astarion scoffs.
"I don't think he's sorry and I wouldn't forgive him regardless. We can level the field, and then we can move on."
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She folds her arms, eases down to a seat nearby.
"I wanted to come because I was worried you wouldn't want to do anything about it."
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"Darling, when I've lost my interest in retribution you might as well just bury me."
He watches her, idly reaching to stroke Aylin when she decides to sprawl against his hip.
"How have you been?"
'Since recovering from the vampirism' is unsaid but, in his mind, doesn't need to be specified.
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She looks like shit, although at least it's warmed over shit now; she feels like it too, but it's easier to focus on others, and it's getting better.
She shrugs. "I'm here."
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"I think being present and conscious is the best we can hope for, sometimes," Astarion sighs. "You're looking better."
Not good, but...better.
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She shakes her head.
"If I let us talk about me for a little bit, are you going to be annoyed when I turn it back on you after?"
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"...No," Astarion says, after a moment, with a lifted eyebrow. "I'll accept exchange in kind."
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But the world isn't fair. She tightens her jaw on it, and looks away.
"I'm taking things a day at a time right now."
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"I have yet to find another way to take them," Astarion admits, slipping back into looking just tired and unwell. "Had your - guest left anything for you, after all that was done?"
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"We left notes for each other. We kept switching back and forth. He left me a letter."
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"Something encouraging, I hope?"
Her expression suggests as much.
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"He was worried about me. Said if I decide not to give people here a chance, make sure it's actually them and not... other things. And that's dirty fucking pool, considering."
There's fondness under the exasperation.
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"It is. On the other hand, there are so many people here who don't deserve that much of a chance," Astarion remarks.
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"That's why it's not just 'give people a chance.' We both survived the same virus, the same world. He knows as well as I do the kind of shit people will do to other people if given half a chance."
Both good and bad.
"Did you - get to talk to him?"
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"I'm afraid I didn't," Astarion says. "I was...absent, for much of that week."
Meeting Arthur's daughter was surreal enough.
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"If I bothered wishing, it would be that he got to stay. He deserves another chance."
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That rather clearly indicates what happened to him back home, then. Astarion nods, solemn.
"Another Barge, perhaps. We can't know what other opportunities might present themselves."
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