from your hands to the heavens

[Imzhora Moonsong]

(snatching away a dagger that is very shiny, very golden, and even more important: has a stone carved into the grip that seems very expensive) (you are aware that Astarion is standing there, just as interested in everything around you all - so many things to sell, so many things to keep, so many things that keep reminding you of your travels the past years (something you two do seem to have in common; the need to grab anything that seems worth a look anything beautiful)) (you look at the dagger, though, and not at him, like you are trying to study the worth of it)

[Astarion Ancunín]

« You're a starving man. And that dagger she's eyeing - that's your supper for the day. »

Cazador has had a tight hold on your life. A life that isn't wasn't yours to begin with. It's his life. You're his. You're his property. His investment. Not a free person. And certainly not someone who is free to own what he likes. Everything you do did own you ultimately don't. It's his money. It's his decision. He keeps track of what is yours and he doesn't mind taking back what's been given to you if he thinks you don't deserve it.
In the past decades or so you've found yourself sneaking things up your sleeves or slipping them into your pockets. Just tiny things. Nothing too big, too obvious. Just something for you. Something he couldn't track back. Couldn't control. Something you could own. Just you.

This life with a tadpole in your head has come with perks. You wouldn't admit it out loud. Not show any weakness. Not to them. But deep down you know it. Deep down you know that this life with a prisoner in your head has been more freedom than you've had in the past century. You're free to take and free to buy and free to sell and everything you put in your backpack is yours and yours only.
Almost makes you greedy for more. Give a starving man a plate full of food and he'll shove it down within seconds and demand seconds, thirds, fourths and more.

You're a starving man. And that dagger she's eyeing - that's your supper for the day.

Astarion

Sorry, my dear, -

You say with a put on apologetic smile. Of course you aren't sorry. When have you ever been. (You always are. Sorry for yourself mostly. And for the things you've done.)

Astarion

This lovely item has aleady been sold to the highest bidder.

You mouth the me while pointing the dagger at your own beautiful face. At least that's what you assume. Given the fact that you haven't seen your own reflection in more years than you dare to count.

Astarion

Isn't that just your luck, hm?

[Imzhora Moonsong]

Your eyebrows rise up when he takes the dagger, pointing at himself, telling you that it is his now. Something in you stirs; something that isn't quite happy; something that you shove back down. No need to start a fight over something you are stealing either way.
(You might steal it back from him when he isn't looking later.)

Imza

Just my luck.

Tilting your head, you look at him, watching him, crossing your arms slowly, but there is a smile playing on your lips. There is something about him, always has been from the start - even at the very start, when he tried to kill you. (Twice.) When he held a dagger to your throat and when he tried drinking your blood, sneakily.
But that something surely isn't going to stop you from wanting that dagger back.

Imza

You wouldn't know how much to sell it for.

What it's worth; the stone engraved in it. You wonder where those goblins got it from - it doesn't look like it's from around here.

[Astarion Ancunín]

You watch her as she crosses her arms. Eyes wandering over your body. Most likely trying to read you as much as you're trying to read her. You've tought yourself the patience of doing so a long time ago. To read people. To understand them. To find their weaknesses. All for the sole purpose of luring some sad soul into Cazadors claws. Just so he'll put out his frustrations on someone else than you.
You still do it. Hard to shake it off even though you're far from him and his orders. The last meal you were hunting for him was evaporized right in front of your eyes. Although they probably didn't disappear into thin air. They just found a new home in one of the tubes. Just like you did. If they're lucky they got out. If not - well, you assume that fate's still a lot better than getting sucked dry by Cazador himself.

The corners of your mouth rise. Slightly. Intrigued by her undying optimism. Although optimism might not be the right word for her motivations. She's interested in gold. You're interested in freedom. There's a slight difference there but - doesn't mean you can't be convinced to hand over the dagger in exchange for some good coin.

Astarion

Oh, sweetheart. Underestimating me, are you? (disappointed sigh) You wound me with your lack of faith.

You hold your hand to your chest. Pretending to be deeply offended. (And maybe you are. A little bit. Do you not look like a man of class? What makes her think you wouldn't know what to sell this for?)

Astarion

For you, Imza, I suppose I could entertain the idea of trimming down the price a bit.

Finger to your chin. Slightly tapping it like in thought. It's all an act. Like everything else you do.

Astarion

How about 200 coin and -

You step closer. Tip of the dagger tapping against her collarbone. It's the necklace you're interested in. You wonder if she'll get the point - or if she'll need some help to it.

[Imzhora Moonsong]

« (You would love to tell a good, long, poetic story about it, something heartfelt and emotional, but it is nothing of that sort. It is just a necklace, one you have stolen a dozen years ago. »

Imza

I am not interested in buying the dagger from you.

He can keep it, for all you care, if he wants it that badly. You won't give him any money, and -

especially not the necklace that you are wearing. (You would love to tell a good, long, poetic story about it, something heartfelt and emotional, but it is nothing of that sort. It is just a necklace, one you have stolen a dozen years ago. One that you cling to because it is beautiful, and because it reminds you of days that were hard, that were difficult to overcome. Times like these, right now, even though you don't let it show.)

Imza

I will find another.

You look around, gaze crossing Karlach's for a brief second - she is standing close to Zenisse, nothing out of the ordinary these days. You have felt that spark - literally - between them days ago already, from day one.
You look back at Astarion.

Imza

Something of more value.

[Astarion Ancunín]

She's not willing to part with either her coin nor the necklace hanging around her neck.

Astarion

What a pity.

Your voice sounding as much disappointed as it doesn't. You've perfected this version of you who can pretend yet at the same time tell the truth. It's just that no one knows. No one but you. And even you sometimes aren't sure how much of what you're saying, thinking, doing is real and how much is someone else. What you do know for certain, though, as saddening as it is, is: you don't know the man you used to be. Everything that made you is gone. The faces of your parents just blurred colors. The life you must've lived out of reach. No matter how deep you try to mediate. Which is one of the many reasons you don't dare to anymore.
Or used to.
With how insane your lifestyle has gotten in the past tendays it's hard not to get some rest after a long days march or fighting yet another horde of creatures you'd rather not touch if you had the choice. Even now you're disgusted by all the goblin blood that tainted your skin. Hopefully that won't end in a rash.

Astarion

Well in that case I shall bid you good luck.

Tucking away the dagger for someone who'll be willing to pay the 200 coin - or even more. You should try it at the Grove. With the news of all goblins slain they should be in a good enough mood to spend a little more than they usually would. After all you're the hero here, right?

Astarion

Your chances of accomplishment seem rather slim.

Lifting your chin just a bit. Amused features on your face. Almost delighted. In a dark and twisted way. Thinking to yourself that you'll be quicker than her. (You haven been quicker now too. She just happened to snatch the dagger from your hands.)

[Imzhora Moonsong]

Your eyes follow the dagger that he is storing away, watching where it goes, where he puts it. You will have a long march back to the druid's grove - and perhaps he will be distracted enough at some point to not realize how close you can get if you want to. You're certain that Karlach or someone else will have him in a conversation soon enough while walking back - they do seem to get on quite well. As well as people like the lot of you can go on well. Too many people from different sides of life; so many people with different values and opinions. (You are so glad that you don't have to keep them all together.)

Imza

Is that so?

You take a step forward, towards him, just slightly to his left. It is an obvious move, but it isn't the dagger that you are after - for now. You want to see what he will do, how he will move. You know he has sharp reflex, you have seen him fight more often than not.

Imza

My chances of accomplishment are usually very high.

As you have had a fair amount of experience with getting by, day by day. It was your choice entirely to leave your own grove, but you did have to make some adjustments to your lifestyle on your way. And, well, stealing has been one of many priorities you have had to learn, slowly but surely.

[Astarion Ancunín]

She moves closer. Attempting to step into your space. Either trying to reach for the dagger you just hid away or pretending to do so. A distraction from what she's actually planning. You might not know her that well but you're sure you've got some of her acts figured out. You've spent enough days around the fireplace to study every single one of them.
You chuckle. Amused. Not impressed. Taking a step toward her because: come, do it, I dare you. Instead you say, though:

Astarion

Familiarize yourself with the savory bitterness of continual letdowns. It shall become your dearest companion.

You know that taste too well. Your eyes dart to her mouth for a split second. Your life's been nothing but disappointment for 200 years to be exact. And - who are you trying to kid - it probably was a disappointment before that as well. But still - you carry your chin high. Now just as much as you did in the past.

Astarion

Try to see the bright side - it's an improvement over the godforsaken filth these little monsters call wine.

You still feel nauseous.

[Imzhora Moonsong]

Imza

You almost make that sound like a curse.

Good thing, though, that he is no one to curse you or anyone else - as an elf, as a vampire, as a rogue. There is nothing in his repertoire to potentially curse you. Except, maybe, if that dagger is somehow a magical artefact. (In that case, you might snatch it away and give it to Gale for him to absorb. He surely has a better use for it than any of the others; sounds a little too dangerous to keep it around with some of these people in your camp.)
You don't let his words get to you, though; you are familiar with disappointment, and familiar with bitter tastes as well. Emotionally - but regarding wine too.

You aren't much of a drinker and you certainly haven't tasted the wine around here either. You don't see the need to try to drink most of the time, even when the others do, because most of them get drunk at some point, tipsy enough. Your body, though, absorbs it just as much as water, with little to no effect. (You have never tried to drink so much that it might have an effect.)

Imza

Surely the wine wasn't that bad.

Taking another step forward, very much in his space now. You know where that dagger is, yet you aren't reaching for it. Not here, not now - perhaps later.

[Astarion Ancunín]

You're not one to speak curses. Who has the time for that? You certainly don't. Your day's filled with hunting. Sometimes it's for days. Someone special Cazador put his eye on. Sometimes you're free to choose. Only to get scolded because of who you brought to his feet. There's no winning with that man. Not even now. You're miles away and yet you think of him. You think of your life in Baldurs Gate. You still think of it as your presence. Despite not having done any of the things you usually do. You're as free as you could be. Given the circumstances.
He's still sending folk after you.

The corners of your mouth stay risen. Not faltering. Not once. Not even a bit. You can see right through her. Can sense what she's trying to do. It's adorable, really, that she think she can outdo you.

Astarion

I'd recommend giving it a chance.

You lean forward then. Lips to her ears. Voice dangerously low.

Astarion

Once you've had your taste I'm sure you'll be begging me to curse you.

Still smiling when you linger just a moment longer.
Her neck smells tempting.
And it'd sure be a better refreshment than the filth the goblins have around.