#aspasia.

[viktere]

your head whispers vengeance . . . .

[viktere]

‘  well, if we just make it seem like we’re in on it, like… we’re here for the cult stuff.  ’ / gale for durge ansjkfd

ㅤㅤunlovable carcass shifts towards him, gaze heavy with skepticism as it rests upon him. ❛ we? ❜ she finally echoes, trying and failing to keep their voice neutral. could she infiltrate a cult? oh yes. yes, she could. it would be akin to coming home, she is certain of that all the way down to her bones. as for their wizard companion, however . . . she gives him a once over, lips pursing in contemplation. ❛ at the risk of offending you, gale, i doubt you would be able to do so no matter how you tried. ❜ their lips twitch with mirth. ❛ or rather, i fear they would eat you alive. ❜

prompt.

[viktere]

‘  oh sure they’d be hiding in the bushes. they’re cultists.  ’ / astarion to your durge !

ㅤㅤshe typically doesn't say much in reply to their pale companion, finding most of his contributions to not be worth responding to. she doesn't dislike him, per se, rather finds his sly comments and questionable morals to be quite amusing. it is more that she knows she cannot believe most anything he says, sensing the undercurrent of dishonesty beneath nearly his every word. she assumes he wears a mask, as she does. ( like recognizes like ). but the whispers gnawing at her brain matter don't allow them to ignore him this time, that darkness within bubbling grotesquely, hungrily. one of their hands instinctively beings to reach for her dagger, red haze beginning to seep into the corners of her vision. ❛ we should make them bleed. ❜ it's spoken so quietly it's a almost a whisper, but the near frantic hunger is unmistakable.

prompt.