Places. Well, he resisted the urge when Jedao gave him the opportunity to
spend some time alone here, but - it's not as if he's actually feeling
homesick. Maybe John will consider this a show of confidence.
"Baldur's Gate," he tells the device at the door. "The lower city."
The door opens into Bloomridge Park.
The space is as much statuary and paving as it is greenery and planting;
the trees are mature and their trunks encased in vines, the grass dotted
with patches of little purple flowers. There's a fountain. It's scenic.
To the south is the scattering of houses, shops and taverns spilling
downhill towards the harbour; to the north is the gothic rear facade of
Szarr Palace, one of the many grand homes encircling the upper city.
Astarion doesn't look up at it. Instead, he steps out into the sunshine,
spreading his arms.
"Welcome to my hometown, darling! Just - imagine that it's much busier
and smells a little worse."
He's never been to a park. He's never seen the greenery and the fountain and a city like this. He's never seen a harbour, a proper harbor, beyond a couple of docks here or there. And a palace! He's never seen a palace. Not like this. His memories are vast and varied but all of them come from when he was the King and the King's perception doesn't allow for beauty or the play of light over the stones or delicate purple flowers along a path.
He's going to float over towards some of those flowers and it's so obvious he's overwhelmed by how lovely it is, examining each little bit and piece and view that he can before he can even speak. He'll realize Astarion is probably waiting for him to say something and there's something awed and fragile as he turns to look at the man himself.
"...thank you for showing me your hometown. It's... lovely."
His former comrades who hadn't seen the city before were either aggressively unimpressed by everything (Lae'zel) or slightly dismayed by cities in general (Halsin). Before then, his marks had usually been in the city for at least long enough to get the first impression out of the way. Seeing the city anew through the eyes of someone who's never seen its like is...something.
"We can take a walk, if you want; I can demonstrate my talents along the way. I assume the Barge has never stopped in a place like this?"
"Not yet, no," he says, though he takes a moment to consider. But no, nothing quite like this.
And it's obvious that John is distracted by all the little things: the little line of pennants between two stalls, the lattice of wood that makes up a railing, in the distance the shape of the Blushing Mermaid. His robes are swaying as he aborts movements to look here or there.
"Then let's meander our way down towards the docks," Astarion decides. "The Upper City is above us, it's...fine. Rather ostentatious. I didn't spend much time there after I was turned. This way."
His first choice of spell is Misty Step: he vanishes mid-pace and reappears about thirty feet away, at the gateway into the park.
"I can see!" he says, floating around the raven, looking at it from one side and then the other. He's just as fascinated as he was with the Misty Step, maybe even more so.
"You even gave it a form. It's a small spirit, but still a powerful spell. Does your friend have a name?"
this is canon so presumably edgar allan poe exists i
They pass by the Blushing Mermaid, with its various nautical features. The
place is normally rather raucous, particularly compared to more staid
venues like the Elfsong, and it's strange to see it just...empty. Even at
the very edge between night and morning, there were at least a few patrons
stumbling out into the gloom.
He looks around. There's a brazier not far away, on the deck of outdoor
seating, for the comfort of its patrons. Firebolt, then.
"Ignis-"
The flaming mote bursts from his hand, catching at the wood and coals in
the metal bowl.
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No, nothing else.
...Thank you, John.
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I expect it'll come through sometime today.
[ A pause. ]
...can I see some of it sometime? Magic in your world seems very different from what I know.
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I'd be happy to demonstrate, darling. Let me know when the Admiral gets back to you - we could use the Enclosure.
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[ He sounds excited, really. ]
Thanks.
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Everything working?
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Let me -
[There's a quiet but audible sound of electrical crackling.]
Ha. Yes, that's much better.
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No rush on showing off. Unless you want to show off.
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I would love to show off, darling. The Enclosure this evening?
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Perfect.
[He adds nothing more over the network, but he'll be waiting for John's arrival later on.]
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Did you get it all set up?
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He frowns thoughtfully at the console.
"No? I've only watched someone else do this, do I just...tell it what I want? I'm not sure how much precision it allows for."
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Places. Well, he resisted the urge when Jedao gave him the opportunity to spend some time alone here, but - it's not as if he's actually feeling homesick. Maybe John will consider this a show of confidence.
"Baldur's Gate," he tells the device at the door. "The lower city."
The door opens into Bloomridge Park.
The space is as much statuary and paving as it is greenery and planting; the trees are mature and their trunks encased in vines, the grass dotted with patches of little purple flowers. There's a fountain. It's scenic.
To the south is the scattering of houses, shops and taverns spilling downhill towards the harbour; to the north is the gothic rear facade of Szarr Palace, one of the many grand homes encircling the upper city.
Astarion doesn't look up at it. Instead, he steps out into the sunshine, spreading his arms.
"Welcome to my hometown, darling! Just - imagine that it's much busier and smells a little worse."
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He's never been to a park. He's never seen the greenery and the fountain and a city like this. He's never seen a harbour, a proper harbor, beyond a couple of docks here or there. And a palace! He's never seen a palace. Not like this. His memories are vast and varied but all of them come from when he was the King and the King's perception doesn't allow for beauty or the play of light over the stones or delicate purple flowers along a path.
He's going to float over towards some of those flowers and it's so obvious he's overwhelmed by how lovely it is, examining each little bit and piece and view that he can before he can even speak. He'll realize Astarion is probably waiting for him to say something and there's something awed and fragile as he turns to look at the man himself.
"...thank you for showing me your hometown. It's... lovely."
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"It has its charms," Astarion permits.
His former comrades who hadn't seen the city before were either aggressively unimpressed by everything (Lae'zel) or slightly dismayed by cities in general (Halsin). Before then, his marks had usually been in the city for at least long enough to get the first impression out of the way. Seeing the city anew through the eyes of someone who's never seen its like is...something.
"We can take a walk, if you want; I can demonstrate my talents along the way. I assume the Barge has never stopped in a place like this?"
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And it's obvious that John is distracted by all the little things: the little line of pennants between two stalls, the lattice of wood that makes up a railing, in the distance the shape of the Blushing Mermaid. His robes are swaying as he aborts movements to look here or there.
"If that's all right. A walk would be... nice."
He wants to see! Everything!
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"Then let's meander our way down towards the docks," Astarion decides. "The Upper City is above us, it's...fine. Rather ostentatious. I didn't spend much time there after I was turned. This way."
His first choice of spell is Misty Step: he vanishes mid-pace and reappears about thirty feet away, at the gateway into the park.
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"That's amazing! You were there and then you weren't!"
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Astarion finds himself smiling. It's...sweet, almost, to find him so fascinated by something that his world has rendered positively mundane.
"Useful for getting out of a tight spot, in my experience. And as for things that weren't there..."
His next trick is a familiar summons, a raven which emerges into being near his shoulder and settles atop a nearby stonework.
"It's a fey creature. A spirit in animal form."
As he moves to keep walking away from the park and into the city, the bird follows in steady wingbeats, staying close.
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"You even gave it a form. It's a small spirit, but still a powerful spell. Does your friend have a name?"
this is canon so presumably edgar allan poe exists i
"Quoth," Astarion says, with a faint smile. "There are other forms - cats, spiders, frogs, rats."
He does not summon rats.
"Personally, if I've nowhere to hide then I prefer having a familiar who can blind an opponent."
Ehdgar Alyn Pohe, of course
There were times, back when he was the King, that he could summon creatures like that.
"...remind me to show you a byakhee sometime."
For another time! It's not like it's something can do right now.
"What else?"
Verbal bounce verbal bounce verbal bounce.Re: Ehdgar Alyn Pohe, of course
"Let me see."
They pass by the Blushing Mermaid, with its various nautical features. The place is normally rather raucous, particularly compared to more staid venues like the Elfsong, and it's strange to see it just...empty. Even at the very edge between night and morning, there were at least a few patrons stumbling out into the gloom.
He looks around. There's a brazier not far away, on the deck of outdoor seating, for the comfort of its patrons. Firebolt, then.
"Ignis-"
The flaming mote bursts from his hand, catching at the wood and coals in the metal bowl.
Re: Ehdgar Alyn Pohe, of course
There's a cackle of glee at that. That's so neat!
"Do it again!" And then, getting a handle on himself. "Er, please. Astarion. If you don't mind."
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