[ Donall shuffles the cards and deals them out, face down. He looks so smug that Astarion is convinced he must be cheating already; that, or he took one look at G'raha and assumed he didn't know what he was doing, which— yeah, Astarion can see that. This little catboy doesn't inspire a lot of confidence.
Which is why Astarion moseys over to Donall's side of the table—
"Hey," the half-orc grunts. "Back on your side." ]
What? Ugh, you can't possibly think there's anything untoward going on.
[ He raises his hands, palms out. ]
I won't move a muscle. No hand signals, no secret codes...
[ Astarion's eyes glance over at Donall's hand. It's decent, but a good hand isn't the only way to win at Talis. If you can bluff good enough, it doesn't matter what hand you have. (...Oh, gods, G'raha's going to fuck this so badly.) As Donall places his ante, Astarion's tadpole reaches out across the table to its cousin in G'raha's head, psychically nudging up against it. Let me in, it says. ]
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Which is why Astarion moseys over to Donall's side of the table—
"Hey," the half-orc grunts. "Back on your side." ]
What? Ugh, you can't possibly think there's anything untoward going on.
[ He raises his hands, palms out. ]
I won't move a muscle. No hand signals, no secret codes...
[ Astarion's eyes glance over at Donall's hand. It's decent, but a good hand isn't the only way to win at Talis. If you can bluff good enough, it doesn't matter what hand you have. (...Oh, gods, G'raha's going to fuck this so badly.) As Donall places his ante, Astarion's tadpole reaches out across the table to its cousin in G'raha's head, psychically nudging up against it. Let me in, it says. ]