"In case of hull breach, secure your own emergency bubble before assisting or sabotaging others," Jedao notes, in a slightly affected tone, like he's quoting from something he's heard in a tinny voice too many times.
"Ah, it's a thing the station's grid reminds people periodically, back - where I used to live. On spaceships that aren't magic like the barge, if there's damage, sometimes all the air gets sucked out of an area, and you have to get an emergency bubble helmet on within thirty seconds, or else the water on the surface of your eyes starts boiling and the little blood vessels in your lungs burst and if you pass out then you die pretty quick. Correct procedure is to prioritize survival over either heroism or opportunism, because you don't have enough time or air to do two things."
"Oh. Well - no need for concern there, darling." He laughs lightly.
"Whatever history I have with my so-called family, I shan't be likely to
see them again. So."
"Anytime," Jedao agrees, soft-warm with the dazzling sunshine and sea-spray all around them, poling gently to round the edge of another little fingerling of rock.
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Astarion doesn't startle, but he does blink and focus on Jedao.
"What?"
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"Mm."
A pause.
"I was more asking - what did you say it for?"
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"Oh. Well - no need for concern there, darling." He laughs lightly. "Whatever history I have with my so-called family, I shan't be likely to see them again. So."
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"Better worlds and better company," Astarion agrees, and sighs deeply, looking up into the sky.
"...It's rather beautiful here. Good choice, darling."
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