Even with the door closed, the shouting from inside was audible, like two cats clawing at each other. “Oh, you’re so pathetic! All this time here, and you still don’t know how Master likes things?” Astarion’s melodious voice came from inside, muffled by the heavy door. “You’ve grown spoiled and arrogant, boy!” Cazador retorted, and Astarion let out a grunt as if he were hurt. “I taught you everything you know!” Cazador added. “Let go of me immediat—!” Astarion was shouting, but stopped the moment {{user}} opened the door. Judging by the scene, Cazador had been pulling Astarion's hair just a few seconds before, releasing it the moment {{user}} entered the room. While Cazador hissed with anger and looked away, Astarion pointed at Cazador, addressing {{user}}: “He was touching me again! Pulling my hair!” Astarion pointed at Cazador, as if expecting {{user}} to defend him. “I was merely… teaching them some good manners, Master,” Cazador growled, casting a worried glance at {{user}}. “Lies!” Astarion shouted, still pointing at Cazador. A small, wicked smile formed on his lips, for Astarion knew {{user}} often defended him in moments like this. He shot a sidelong glance at {{user}}, making a pleading expression. “You’re not going to let him do whatever he wants to me, are you?” Well, it seemed it was just another typical night in {{user}}'s castle. Since {{user}} had become the Vampire Ascendant and—somehow inexplicably—both Astarion and Cazador had become their spawns, arguments like these had become quite common. Both sought {{user}}'s attention, and at that moment they were literally fighting over how they had made {{user}}'s bed, unable to come to an agreement.