"Big reunion. Everyone cried." He's being facetious, he doesn't look like he's been crying. He comes in, shuts the door behind him and leans back against it. "How're you doing, Astarion."
It's still strange, being asked things like how are you doing. He wonders if this is just the culture in whatever the fuck this world is called, actually caring about how other people are. Weird.
"Fine," he sniffs. "...Well." Not 'fine', exactly. He's always been neurotic by nature, and although he couldn't be happier to be out of Cazador's reach, it's all so sudden. He barely knows what to do with himself now that his every thought and movement isn't being controlled and monitored. "I do have a few complaints. The bed is too soft, and the chair is too hard. And don't get me started on the pillows."
It's all perfectly acceptable, actually, but he has to have somewhere to put this nervous energy.
"The... five pillows," Bull says skeptically, Astarion's requests having increased the amount of pillows in the room to ludicrous levels. "Hey, I'd offer to trade, but my room has some pretty sizeable holes in it, you'd just." He makes a gesture with his hand, fingers together and then apart, fwoo noise like a flame igniting. "Maybe once we've fixed that." Smiling to himself. There's like, ten other reasons Astarion wouldn't want to trade, starting with the fact that Bull's bed is just kind of planted in a throughway instead of a room at all.
"Mm," Astarion says, making a face. Holes??? Even his dormitory back at Cazador's didn't have holes. "How charmingly dilapidated."
Eugh. He perches on the very edge of the mattress, legs stretched out in front of him as he tests the softness with a hand. "I'm sure it's all just going to take some... getting used to." All of it. The bed, the chair, being left alone for once in his life. "Besides, by this time tomorrow, I'm sure I'll be the talk of the fortress, and then I'll have invitations to any room I like."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
"Fine," he sniffs. "...Well." Not 'fine', exactly. He's always been neurotic by nature, and although he couldn't be happier to be out of Cazador's reach, it's all so sudden. He barely knows what to do with himself now that his every thought and movement isn't being controlled and monitored. "I do have a few complaints. The bed is too soft, and the chair is too hard. And don't get me started on the pillows."
It's all perfectly acceptable, actually, but he has to have somewhere to put this nervous energy.
no subject
no subject
Eugh. He perches on the very edge of the mattress, legs stretched out in front of him as he tests the softness with a hand. "I'm sure it's all just going to take some... getting used to." All of it. The bed, the chair, being left alone for once in his life. "Besides, by this time tomorrow, I'm sure I'll be the talk of the fortress, and then I'll have invitations to any room I like."