TLV: IC Contact

[sixfeetofdirt]

Careful; I bite.

Comments

[greatoldjohn]

"That wasn't my intention." A pause. "Which doesn't change how I made you feel. I'm sorry."

He nods, however. Nodding. So weird. New!

"I did, but mostly just to make sure that it was set that you wouldn't smell or be asked to work."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion considers this. Then holds out a hand.

"Show me."

[greatoldjohn]

He nods, and then he'll sort through the posts until he gets to the posting. Then he'll lift it up and offer it to Astarion. He didn't say anything he minds Astarion reading.

He thanked him, he told him he wasn't going to punish Astarion for his opinions or his choice to speak up, and that he does think it's important to keep the place clean. Nothing more or less.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion glances through the conversation. Scrolls down and then back up.

"'I think it'll help him'," he reads out loud, then spits out a high laugh and tosses the device in John's general direction. "Fascinating. Well, you know I'm no more dead than usual. I'll be sure to make some kind of a live-sounding noise the next time you contact me."

[greatoldjohn]

He catches it, which is harder given only one arm is real, and he can't help a growl.

"You don't even know what I meant, I'd wager. But no, I'm not going anywhere."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Thank the gods for small mercies. Please, stay exactly where you are."

Because he's walking.

[greatoldjohn]

And he's just going to follow.

"You know what I meant!"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Oh, now I know what you mean?"

Another laugh. He's still walking.

"Well, then. Since I'm so inconsistent, perhaps you'll tell me how it's good for me to have his power over me and yours thrust into my face?"

[greatoldjohn]

So is John.

"That wasn't what I was talking about. Why would you even think that was what I was talking about? When the fuck have I ever made anything about this about my power over you? Think for a second!"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Maybe that's not what you were talking about, but that's what happened," Astarion says, in a tone best described as 'aggressively chipper'. "Just answer the question, would you?"

[greatoldjohn]

"I can't because I don't think that," he growls, because Nameless Mists if he could erase 'fake chipper voice' from reality, he would. He hates it. "What I was saying was the opposite of that. That it's good you can tell someone that you think they're an asshole or that you disagree with something and you know I won't hurt you or make you pay for it or make you do something like apologize or make you do the work. I-"

And he lowers his voice.

"Are you forgetting what I saw during the flood? Because I didn't. That's what I think is good: you having chances to dislike things loudly and publicly."

He huffs again and shakes his head.

"I disagreed with you but I didn't use any power. I didn't tell you to stop speaking. I didn't tell Zack to back off, because it was your fight to have with him outside of me making sure he wasn't going to force you to anything. And I didn't tell you to stop arguing: you stopped on your own. And I tried to give you space to be angry at me afterwards so you knew it was okay and you didn't need to deal with me."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion couldn't forget what John saw during the flood if he wanted to. And he does want to.

"Thank you for your benificence," he says sweetly, briefly turning to him to offer an exaggerated, sweeping bow. "However, I am already extremely good at disliking things and people, and I still did not need you to show up and underline the fact that the two of you had already made a decision on the small matter of whether or not I can be forced to serve."

[greatoldjohn]

He wants to scream. Instead-

"It's not beneficence! And I wasn't trying to underline anything! And it isn't serving." His tone turns grumpy. "Just because it reminds you of shit doesn't make it the same thing."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"All right."

His tone goes from saccharine to flat neutral in no time at all. His pace remains measured, though he isn't really going anywhere.

[greatoldjohn]

Great, shutting down him. So much better.

But he won't say anything. He's just going to walk with him.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion permits this.

For a solid ten minutes.

"...Have you truly nothing better to do with your day?"

[greatoldjohn]

"No," he says plainly enough. Want more, you'll have to ask.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"All right. Well, my plan from here was to go to a tavern, and I wasn't intending to leave alone. So unless you'd like me and whatever new friend I make to put your new body through its paces, you can go and find something equally boring yet different."

[greatoldjohn]

You know what's great about having visible eyes? You can roll them.

"This is an illusion. So no. And if you're going to a tavern, I'll wait downstairs. I can pretend to drink."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion sighs.

"Hells. I assume this clinging is my punishment for not responding to your messages?"

[greatoldjohn]

"Also no." He doesn't want to explain. He should explain. He has to explain. He hates that he has to explain.

"And I'm not clinging. I just-

"I won't want to be anywhere else. I won't get in your way. I won't interfere."

He's been so fucking lonely and he hates it.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Ugh. You are clinging. And if not specifically to annoy me, then why?"

He's not that empathetic even when he's trying to be, and right now he is not trying.

[greatoldjohn]

John, however, is not a subtle or patient creature. Thus, he turns to look right at Astarion.

"I missed you, you stupid fuck. Is that really that strange of an idea?!"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Yes!" Astarion snaps back. "And even if it wasn't, missing me is not a good enough reason to just ignore my interest in being left alone!"

[greatoldjohn]

"Except you don't want to be alone. You just said that! And I left you alone for days and it didn't fix anything. it only made everything worse so until we fix this, I'm not going anywhere."