[It's still so foreign to view a memory in this way like it were his own. Like he were truly the one stalking through Waterdeep, returning to HQ with so much fury in his heart. He can feel that white-hot furor churning in his chest, just like he can feel that strange, cosmic energy bursting past his palms as he finally ends the life of a man who betrayed him.
It should be disturbing, really, to experience it in this way. But even while he's still caught in the thrall of this shared memory, Astarion can feel the adrenaline spiking through his own body, the utter satisfaction in watching a true instance of fulfilled revenge take place, as clear as crystal, so real that he could nearly claim it as his own. Oh, it lacks the dash of fear that Astarion always carries in his own chest, and that desperate desire to be free, but it's nice to not feel that, too, for a change.
When the memory severs, Astarion actually does reel back a little, as though physically affected. His eyes, widened slightly, rake over the warlock before him.]
I've never seen you so angry.
[The way he ended Cason's life so quickly; why, coming from Astarion, that's practically a compliment after what he saw.]
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It should be disturbing, really, to experience it in this way. But even while he's still caught in the thrall of this shared memory, Astarion can feel the adrenaline spiking through his own body, the utter satisfaction in watching a true instance of fulfilled revenge take place, as clear as crystal, so real that he could nearly claim it as his own. Oh, it lacks the dash of fear that Astarion always carries in his own chest, and that desperate desire to be free, but it's nice to not feel that, too, for a change.
When the memory severs, Astarion actually does reel back a little, as though physically affected. His eyes, widened slightly, rake over the warlock before him.]
I've never seen you so angry.
[The way he ended Cason's life so quickly; why, coming from Astarion, that's practically a compliment after what he saw.]