TLV: IC Contact

[sixfeetofdirt]

Careful; I bite.

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[ravenswrath]

"Do you really want to know?" he laughs, replacing his own charm and brushing his thumb across the mark on the back of his hand.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion lifts an eyebrow.

"What, did you murder a toddler for them? I really don't care, darling, I'm just curious."

[ravenswrath]

"They're mine," he answers lightly. "Though if I find a body on the street, I'm not above taking what I need. Gruesome, but effective. I suppose you can use rat bones, but I'd rather not."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Ah. Well, that's hardly sinister at all." Astarion sounds borderline disappointed. "I assume the same gifts which let you stop time also lets you retrieve lost fingers?"

[ravenswrath]

"No!" he laughs. "Not sinister at all. But if you had let my lie stand, then you would have your own imagination to keep you entertained."

He stretches out his hand. "No, someone else helped me, a long time ago. I don't really know how it works. The same as Florian's magic. The Outsider says that all magic is just his gifts, but that obviously isn't true for all places. So - " He shrugs.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Oh, every god is going to say every gift is theirs to be earned," Astarion says, flicking his fingers dismissively. "I can't say I've got much time for any of them."

[ravenswrath]

"I think I have - come around to mine. At least he's upfront about it, rather than hiding. He doesn't demand much of his followers, either. The mire I hear of other gods, other worlds, the less inclined I am to hate him."

And he did give him the tools he needed to get Emily back. It had been Corvo who fucked that up.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Is he the only one you have? The only one anyone can engage with, anyway."

Some gods are just so distant and disinclined to meddling that they might as well not exist.

[ravenswrath]

"I believe so? There are spirits and beings in the Void that I don't know of, but not gods."

He doesn't seem upset by that fact.

"The Overseers don't talk about anyone else."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Probably for the best," Astarion says briskly. "The more infighting and rivalry on their plane, the more bloodshed on ours, in my experience. And what exactly is an Overseer?"

[ravenswrath]

"Ah, they're - "

It's difficult to explain a concept in his world when he doesn't have much outside experience.

"- enforcers of the Abbey. Usually, they're mostly harmless, but they fight against the Outsider and his influence in our world."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"On whose behalf?"

'Abbey' suggests religion, but if the Outsider is the only deity going...

[ravenswrath]

He starts walking slowly, deeper into the alley, cautious of the night and the people roaming.

"The Abbey of the Everyman. They believe that the universe is unknowable and most of the forces in it are hostile to man. Including the Outsider. They keep the calendar and the holidays and perform weddings and civil duties normally."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"I see."

Astarion moves alongside him, tread silent.

"In fairness to them, the Outsider's gifts do seem to have made you much more capable when it comes to hostility to your fellow man."

He sounds amused.

[ravenswrath]

"It does depend on the man," he points out. "He set me against the previous recipient of his gift."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Ah. Well, at least we know he's a splendid judge of character. Are we headed anywhere in particular?"

[ravenswrath]

"Truly," he says, dry as the desert.

At the question, he shakes his head. "No destination, but we're prime targets if we're simply standing around. Unless you were looking for a fight tonight."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Mm. Not specifically," which is to say he wouldn't mind if one presented itself. "How else have you been keeping busy, these last few days?"

[ravenswrath]

"Drinking helps," he laughs, keeping an eye on the shadows. "Being back in a city is - fulfilling in a way I didn't realize I had missed."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Oh? I wish I could agree," he says, with a sigh. "This place is...so deeply unlike my own city that it's hard to find it anything more than loud and unpleasant. I much preferred Belisaere."

[ravenswrath]

"I didn't mind Belisaere. That's where I learned the Charter marks for the charms," he explains. "But my own time is somewhere between these two, I think. I do miss the fucking ocean."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Ah - yes, likewise," Astarion says. "Baldur's Gate grew up around the mouth of a river. It's a cliché, but the water really is the lifeblood of that place."

[ravenswrath]

They continue walking, coming across another alley, seemingly deserted. "I believe that. It was the same in Dunwall and in Karnaca. We - " He pauses, reaching out to Astarion's sleeve to try and pull him back.

He can sense movement on the other side, through the wall. One person pacing on the fire escape, two others on the ground - likely an ambush of some kind. Not for them, but he doesn't think they'll be particular about it if they're startled.

"There are a few friends around that corner," he tells him in a whisper.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion goes still the moment Corvo touches him.

"Then we might as well turn around, I really don't feel like getting involved in someone else's drama tonight," he drawls.

[ravenswrath]

Corvo wants to argue with him, but the impulse to do so comes from his own feeling of being too close, too cramped, too restricted.

He gives a reluctant nod and takes a step back.

"Have you own drama to contend with?" he wonders.