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Astarion hums. He doesn't disagree with any of that.
"What about you, Jacob? What do you need?"
He's said it already, but maybe it's something that needs reiterating, especially after Rosita.
"Someplace I can hunt, with animals I know or can learn. With places to live outside of cities. And where - I have people." A pack.
He's aware. I don't think he's ever cared. I've been accused of being too immature to reshape my personality at the Admiral's whim.
"How many people?" Astarion asks, semi-teasing, but also hoping that the desire to accumulate cults doesn't run in families.
(Wait, is that what he wants? Surely he should be in favour of starting a group of loyal followers he can control.
Hm.)
"Rosita, myself and - do our pets count as a person, collectively?"
He's terrifyingly close to wondering if the fantasy of ascension to nigh-godhood is maybe...not as appealing as it used to be.
"I think while I trance, I'm barely more than furniture to her," he sighs. "It's just as well she's never tried to eat me."
He thinks for a moment. Actively challenges himself to engage with the question. What does he need?
"I wouldn't want to be entirely out in the wilderness," he ventures. "But there are means both magical and technological to bridging that gap. Portals and the like. Having somewhere quiet might be...nice."
Somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. He can...imagine the appeal.
He smiles over at him. "You gotta have some sort of place to get all your nice clothes, huh?"
"Obviously," Astarion says, giving his shirt a bit of theatrical fussing. "Or at least, somewhere to buy fabric so I can make my nice clothes."
"I...I think so?"
He sounds like that's the most positive answer he can manage.
"I certainly like it more than having to trawl through other people's offerings for something I can tolerate. Or paying someone else to make them for me."
I asked if he was calling me immature and he said he was. So, yes.
That doesn't strike me as especially helpful.
Astarion laughs and gives him a little nudge.
"Would you be willing to let me tear your clothes off if you didn't think I could mend them afterwards?"
Astarion giggles, then, high and quick.
"Don't say that, Jacob, or I'm never going to pick up a needle again."
She is on her back, snoozing.
Astarion does not have some kind of seizure over the L word, but it's a close thing.
"It seems we've exhausted her for the day, yes. Lead the way."
He smiles faintly.
"I'd like that very much."
Jacob perks up considerably at the mention of his little hobbies.
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