Annes Been Jumpy Since Last Night. In All Of His Ramblings And His Non-apologies, Not Once Did Something

Anne’s been jumpy since last night. In all of his ramblings and his non-apologies, not once did something like a justification slip out from between Astarion’s lips. Without a rhyme or a reason to assign to it, old fears have risen from the dead at his bite, necromanced by a thoughtless vampire’s attempt to feed. The ease of the past several days is gone. Anne had actually relaxed into a sort of friendliness with Astarion, comforted by the acerbic bite of his wit that had so well-paired with the lashing nature of her tongue, but she can’t help regretting that now.

Why was hers the neck he’d picked?!

Anger, hurt, betrayal, confusion, fear—all built up in the absence of an explanation, and none of it of the shade expected of her. She didn’t care what his worser nature was, only that he’d turned it upon her. Her. Where she’d seen a friend, a rare thing for herself, he’d seen a meal. But what had made her look so easy to revictimize?

“Oh, I’ll stay angry for as long as I damned well please. And for what? Huh? Why in the fuck do ye think I deserve to stay so mad?” It’s as clear from her rapid fire succession of questions as it is from the scalding tone of her voice that she expects no answers, yet she keeps going. The bright spark of her rage is lit but from a new angle. Rather than barbaric violence pouring out comes a prickling of tears and a new sensation: outrage.

“The hells had I done to become a midnight fuckin snack?! Huh?!!”

@neverhangd sent: ❛ i'm the asshole? what does that make you then? ❜

❛ Oh darling, if I'm anything, I'm far more than an asshole. ❜

He lets out a soft chuckle, rich and velvety. ❛ But if we’re assigning roles, let’s just say I’m the charming vampire spawn——the one who makes all the worst decisions but does it with such irresistible flair you simply can’t stay angry with him for long. ❜ His eyes flicker with something mischievous, his coy way of once again trying to soften the edge of his misstep the other night. When he tried to bite her.

Anne actually has to stop and think about that for a moment before she can answer. In fairness, she might be a threat to him specifically, in the right circumstances…but in this moment? No. She’s a threat to the state, the coinpurses of patriarchs, and men by the name of Jack Rackham, but not much else.

“…in general, but I’ll let ye know if that changes, aye?”

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@neverhangd sent: “i  identify  as  a  fucking  threat.” // SOURCE: incorrect quotes generator.

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Puck nods. He understands & relates to this sentiment. Not something he's necessarily proud of but that is a different matter entirely.

❝ A threat to me specifically, or in general ？❞

“Ye’ll be dead and buried if ye can’t figure out a way to talk that en’t so fuckin insulting.”

She’d been against the idea from the first word of it, twice a bride already and disinterested in trying the part on for a third time—but admittedly she’d had no better plan for avoiding detection. Not with the authorities hot on her heels and Jack lurking somewhere in the Gate. She’d thrown her lot in with the vampire spawn and is starting to regret it.

It’s one thing to play married and another thing entirely to speak down to her: one of these she can stomach, however sickening, and the other she will not.

“If ye wanted a WIFE who’d tolerate your assholery, ye shouldn’t’ve married me. Last chance. Stop being a prick or started feeling pricked.” A blade is never far from her hand, justified paranoia built up over years of being dicked over by those around her. She won’t be spoken down to this way, reminded their union is a hollow one as if she’s done anything to jeopardize that: she’d sooner plant a knife in his neck and leave him to drown in his ill-gotten blood than she would be spoken down to by someone who needs her just as much as she needs him.

A pirate may not be a welcome thing, but theirs is a nature easier to hide than a vampire’s. If push came to shove, she’d leave him for dead and pull some different unfortunate into the stolen plan to play the dutiful husband. Someone with less condescension and more of a will to live.

@neverhangd cont.

WEDDING A BUCCANEER was never on the pale elf's list, but Astarion has done deeds far worse , as means of survival.

" Darling, I'm sad to inform you, but I'm already dead.. " Though, he was not dead enough to put up with the likes of such barbaric demeanour, obviously. He'd rather be married to a tarrasque named Johnathan , but the best way to infiltrate the city was as disguised refugee couple, so to rise less suspicion -- with both of them being hunted.

Most tended to act very hostile towards vampires and a pirate as an ally always came in handy . The rogue also hoped to manage and nick the treasure he's found her to be hiding in a stash somewhere. When all of it was over, the elf could easily get rid of Anne, just like that annoying tadpole, and ending up richer, too.

" If you wanted a husband who'd be warmer and more alive, you shouldn't've bedded wedded a vampire in the first pale. "

؟

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Can’t get him fucking Shakespeare, that’s a shite gift, but the hell’s he gonna do with more coin? Nowhere to spend it out here! He’s had twice the sexual adventures I have, can’t be anything he likes but hasn’t tried yet, never mind discovering something new. Just as early as riser as me, so no sense in trying to finish his chores ahead of him waking…fuck. The hell are ye supposed to get someone with more than you?!

Anne rolls her eyes, but affection sits at the corners of her smirking lips. Quite the drama queen, isn’t he? Still. There are worse sorts to have thrown your lot in with. Anne pulls the magpie bait back out—small and shiny and suitably expensive-looking—tossing it in Astarion’s direction. She’s no use for baubles, anyway, and lacks sufficient charms to barter it away at a better price. Let the sulker have his fix. Besides, she knew what he’d meant. She’s learned that most of their little adventuring party shares that trait in common with her and him, that dearth of kindness that makes any gesture towards it so intimidatingly grand. When she’d pocketed the little treasure, she’d only been fucking with him.

“Take back what, exactly? ‘T’en’t like ye complimented me, or gave me nothing.” She isn’t really complaining, of course, only filling the air between them with noise. Small talk isn’t her strong suit—not that banter is, but at least that’s a skill she’s willing to learn. “When ye listen to yerself talk, do ye hear the words or only the sound of yer own voice?”

@neverhangd continued from HERE!

"What?! No that wasn't---"

The vampire spawn now regrets opening his mouth, but more than that, he regrets laying down his guard and briefly thinking that for one moment someone could be kind without strings attached. Perhaps it's his fault? After all, he did tell her to not be nice to him because it did make him want to be kind in return.

Astarion sighs dramatically. "I didn't mean it like that. It was a figure of speech! I said that because I'm not used to people giving me a kind word or offering me things." Watching her pocket the trinket, he holds his head high. "But forget what I said." He huffs. "I take it back too."

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