#ily bub.

Brow is pinched. Crowley was. . . were it possible, more chaotic and self destructive than him. Gods, was that possible? Astarion stares at the other incredulously, quite unable to believe them willing to run head first, alone into a full Goblin camp for no reason other than it sounding fun. He's all for a little murder, but he's not particularly fond of being murdered. " Darling -" he sighs, exasperated. " At least wait until the others wake. As much as I'd love to go on a murder spree with you, there's two of us and at least thirty of the ugly critters."