❝ no. no, no, no. don't touch me. ❞ are the first words to escape him — seemingly spoken in lieu of a greeting. he doesn't even hiss them for the usual reasons, when the thought of skin brushing against skin is enough to have nausea curling in the pit of his stomach. ( like a snake, angry and cold and violent. ) astarion lurches away, expression twisting in a look of disgust so exaggerated it bleeds into comedy. he raises his hands, waving them a bit — not unlike a cat batting its paws about as a warning to those foolish enough to stumble within striking range.
❝ what in the hells are you covered in? ❞ the spawn finally asks. ❝ what did you do? ❞ he knows midge isn't above dabbling in a bit of mischief — quite the contrary, it's one of her most pleasant qualities. yet even astarion ( theoretically ) has his limits, and this may very well be fast approaching them. ❝ on second thought, i don't want to know. ❞ a brief pause. then, ❝ unless it's something juicy — then i do want to know... but still preferably from a distance. ❞
@triickst &&. liked for a STARTER.
