[ Anders has spent most every day since he was a child wondering if it might be his last. He's never needed to ask if, because as a mage in the Circle, it was always a given - only when and how. He has very little to leave behind. If there's anyone waiting for him, back where he came from, it's only to put paid to all his obligations (or maybe something worse).
Which is not to say the unknown doesn't frighten him just as much - just that he's quite a bit more accustomed to its constant, looming presence than most. (He's also used to the known, even more ugly and ever-present. But at least there's none of that, here.) It makes it easier for him to put on an exaggerated approximation of uncertainty, to mask himself in playful cowardice, as he cuts his gaze toward the stage again. Pretending not to feel anything beyond what he pretends. ]
Well. Ladies first?
[ He gestures down that long, declining aisle, though he's no more eager to see her try to approach what they seem to have found consensus on as definitely a trap. ]
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Which is not to say the unknown doesn't frighten him just as much - just that he's quite a bit more accustomed to its constant, looming presence than most. (He's also used to the known, even more ugly and ever-present. But at least there's none of that, here.) It makes it easier for him to put on an exaggerated approximation of uncertainty, to mask himself in playful cowardice, as he cuts his gaze toward the stage again. Pretending not to feel anything beyond what he pretends. ]
Well. Ladies first?
[ He gestures down that long, declining aisle, though he's no more eager to see her try to approach what they seem to have found consensus on as definitely a trap. ]