But baby, please don’t believe this is “real”

[synth3ticl0ve]

Private indie oc blog for Rosalyn Harper

[spicyundead]

Perceptive. An admirable quality, but not one that was convenient to his causes. It would be a shame to inevitably mark her as someone who might be fated to disappear if she did not let up on her little 'investigation'. "Advice? Never lay with the same body twice. Make yourself a commodity so scarce that it breeds intrigue."

[synth3ticl0ve]

Interesting advice, a piece that she mostly followed....mostly. "Hmmm. Not even when they offer such nice things?" She asked. "There's one gentleman I would hate to let go. He buys me the prettiest dresses and necklaces. Only lasts like a minute so...I figure it's not that much on my part."

[spicyundead]

The accusation may have stunned the less experienced, but Astarion took it in stride. "I don't know what you mean." Was his only blasé retort, glancing at the nails on his hand, as if bored by the very subject. "Impressed by what, exactly?"

[synth3ticl0ve]

Of course he didn't. Nobody guilty of anything would flinch at such an accusation. She wondered if he'd gotten any before. "Well, impressed is perhaps the wrong word. You have a string of clients all week. You're quite popular. You should tell me your secrets."

[spicyundead]

"Oh, but I did, didn't I? The rebel that I am." Astarion wasn't so easily intimidated. He had the advantage of secrecy and knowledge that spanned centuries. However, he could play along for the sake of not causing concern. Though that wasn't nearly as fun. "I respect the hustle nonetheless."

[synth3ticl0ve]

At least he respected the hustle. Her "hustle" is what kept her in her shitty apartment. Better there than the streets. "I wish I could say I respect yours but your clients seem to go missing..." She pulled out a cigarette from somewhere, extending one to him in offer. "But I am impressed."

[synth3ticl0ve]

[spicyundead]

"And here I thought we were having fun with the back and forth. I suppose some can't handle what they dish out. That's alright, love. I'll switch over to flattery."

[synth3ticl0ve]

"Unless you're paying for it, you don't get the privilege of commenting on my ass. Simple rules of business, I'm afraid. I'm a commodity, I have to keep it in rare condition, ya know?"

[spicyundead]

Astarion had utterly failed to keep up with modern trends. It didn't seem that necessary. No one was ever interested in what he thought about things, only in what his body could do for theirs. "Well, with an ass like that, how could I argue, hm?"

[synth3ticl0ve]

It's not that he was wrong it was just...well, no woman liked to be told that. "You callin' my ass fat? What other backhanded compliments are you willing to give?"

[spicyundead]

Astarion wasn't rattled easily. A snide remark hardly comparable to centuries worth of terror and horror. If anything, he appreciated a quick wit. "Something like that. As opposed to making a hobby out of eating, what did you call it? Hot Chee-tos?"

[synth3ticl0ve]

"....You don't know what Hot Cheetos are? Only god's best gift to mankind, in my humble opinion." She would say that about a lot of snacks though as she tended to eat snacks more than proper meals. "I don't know what you mean, eating is fun."

[spicyundead]

Astarion pretended that the reference to Hot Cheetos didn't throw him off. Such odd luxuries the modern world had. "You don't have to, darling. I've been around the block enough times to know the difference when I see it."

[synth3ticl0ve]

"A connoisseur of body modifications huh? That is a...choice hobby." A wry smirk came to her lips. Always giving backhanded comments, she was. Insulting someone directly was saved for the most lecherous of men who traversed these parts.

[synth3ticl0ve]

@spicyundead cont. from here

"Who knows? I might have paid a pretty penny for this body. Or it was made by Hot Cheetos. I will never divulge my secrets."

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