[ The look he gives Astarion very much says "Do I look like the kind of person who knows thing one about being a magistrate?" Because he certainly does not. Winter is rough around the edges, well-spoken and polite only when it suits him (which is more often, these days, what with having to rub elbows with so many various and sundry folk), even if he'd still rather lie his way through most interactions. Charismatic, but only in a way that covers up the otherness about him that starts to needle at most people if they spend too long scrutinizing him.
In that way, perhaps he and Astarion are not so different. ]
Ah, so it's alluring when you do it, but it's breaking and entering when I do it.
[ But he dutifully lifts the ruined bandage away, angling his body to offer Astarion his arm. The wound is still trying to bleed, though it's slowed some. ]
no subject
In that way, perhaps he and Astarion are not so different. ]
Ah, so it's alluring when you do it, but it's breaking and entering when I do it.
[ But he dutifully lifts the ruined bandage away, angling his body to offer Astarion his arm. The wound is still trying to bleed, though it's slowed some. ]