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Utha stiffened and actually growled – in my general direction, though she wasn’t looking directly at me; the Architect calmed her with one hand on her shoulder. I scowled at them both.“What do you want?” Aedan called out, pulling their attention away from me as I struggled uselessly with my templar abilities.“I wish to correct my mistake.” The Architect half-bowed to Aedan, and I saw Alistair’s jaw clench. “I offer my aid in destroying the Mother. After that, I would like the chance to discuss an alliance that could-”“Stop the Blights forever, blah blah. Yeah, we know. I don’t think so.” I didn’t think I’d ever heard my brother sound so angry. “We don’t need any more poorly-thought-out ‘research’ on darkspawn sentience, thanks.”“Stopping the Blight ‘at any cost’, is not that the Grey Warden goal? I too aim to prevent more conflict between my kind and yours.”“Right, and we’re supposed to just be okay with that? Oh, wait...except for the part where you need more blood than every Grey. But his father had been an out-and-out hedonist, causing much conflict in his household, until Old Carl had finally moved out of the house and had abandoned Young Carl's shrew of a mother; but she had refused to cooperate in any form of divorce--it just was NOT done in her family--so they had remained married but separated until she had died when Young Carl was a junior in college. She had, while still alive, exerted her puritanical control over the teenage development of 'C3' as she called him, including her strict ideas of morality, leaving him with some of her stuffiness even after her passing.When Young Carl had graduated from Wharton, he had not been a virgin. But that was only because of a party where friends got him drunk and set him up with a cute blonde. He had awakened and been shocked to find the girl riding his cock and smiling down at him. He had not thrown her out; but, when she had kissed him afterward and left, he had showered, dressed, and called his mother to.
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Certainly, I must have gone fast asleep that night; Perhaps I had a little wine given me who knows, I have a sudden consciousness of light, and hear someone say, “He is fast asleep, don’t make a noise”; it seemed like my mother’s voice. I rouse myself and listen, the circumstances are strange, the room strange, it excites me, and I rise on my knees, I don’t know whether naturally, or cautiously, or how; perhaps cautiously, because I fear angering my mother, and the gentleman; perhaps a sexual instinct makes me curious, though that is not probable. I have not in fact the slightest conception of the actuating motive, but I sat up and listened. There were two females talking, laughing quietly, and moving about, I heard a rattling in the pot, then a rest, then again a rattle and knew the sound of piddling. How long I listened I don’t know, I might have dozed and awakened again, I saw lights moved about; then I crawled on my knees, with fear that I was doing wrong, and pushed a little.

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