TLV: IC Contact

[sixfeetofdirt]

Careful; I bite.

Comments

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion laughs quietly, and gives the ball another little redirect which makes Mae bark at it before haring off across the deck.

"Whatever did he do to deserve that?"

He assumes, naturally, that it was deserved. Jacob's judgement is flawless.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He laughs again, taking a packet of crackers from his pocket to open and snack on. "He said outright that he wanted to kick my ass. So I met him on deck and wanted to see how far he was willing to go."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Gods below. You should have shot him. Some people just don't learn any other way."

Has Cazador said something similar to him? Yes, probably several times! Oh well.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Unfortunately, it's a sentiment Jacob also agrees with. "I would have, but Saga stopped me and tased the fuck out of him to drop him, so - it would have been cowardly and stupid to try again. But uh - he hasn't fucked with me since."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion blinks at Jacob. Saga is evidently being the fun police in this story, but-

"She dropped him how? What was that word?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Taser. Uh, little box with electricity." He shows him the size with his hands. "You can shock someone and they usually just drop."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Ahhh. I can do that with magic," Astarion says brightly. "Though a knife is generally more fun if I want someone 'dropped'."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Knife leaves marks," he points out. "Taser does but - not obvious ones."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"I suppose that's important sometimes. We don't really have - what do you call it? 'Forensics'. Though necromancy can be helpful in solving murders."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"I was more thinking that it kept your clothes clean," he laughs, but necromancy sobers him right up.

"Do you talk to the dead?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"I have done," Astarion says quietly. "Even if you're not magically trained, you can use spell scrolls - that is, scrolls imbued with the magic to cast a particular spell, once. I myself don't know any necromantic spells, but I've used a scroll to question a man about his death."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Jesus..." he says with a sigh. "What was that like?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Strange," Astarion says. "It's a very...limited form of necromancy. The body is animated, the memories within the mind can be used to answer questions, but the soul is still gone. There's no true intellect remaining. It's the difference between being able to read a book and question its author, you might say."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

It all sounds suspicious and weird and unnatural, but he has to push past that thought since he knows where it comes from.

"Did you get the answers you wanted?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"We got enough to embarrass a local criminal investigator by doing her job for her. It was ultimately helpful."

He decides not to try explaining what Valeria is beyond her job. Hollyphants are...certainly something.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Good. Keep the cops in their places."

He whistles and Mae returns, panting and exhausted. She lies down at Jacob's feet and he kneels down to pet her. "That the only time you did it?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Me personally, yes. One of our companions questioned the father of a girl we found looking for him and her mother, out in the wilds. I don't really know why. Knowing who killed them didn't make them any less dead, and we weren't going to tell a young girl about her parents' violent murder."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Seems strange.

"What did you learn?" he asks.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"They were part of a group of refugees we encountered earlier in our travels," Astarion says, for context. "We found that their leader had abandoned them, the group had scattered, and the two of them were murdered by a little coven of undead nurses."

There's something very tired and 'it's a long fucking story' in Astarion's expression.

"Arabella, their daughter, didn't take their passing very well but I imagine she's outlived me."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Okay. Uh. So how much of this all surprised you when you actually went out on your grand fucking adventure? How much of this did you expect?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"I can't say that the undead shocked me very much at all," Astarion says, bone dry. "And Baldur's Gate has seen more than its fair share of magical drama over the last two centuries, even if I only saw it from a distance.

"That being said? I certainly didn't ever think I'd be fighting against the manifestation of a god, or alongside the child of another. I didn't expect to travel between planes, or make deals with a devil. I knew these things were possible, but simply...existed outside of any life I'd ever live. "

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Seems like a lot to contend with, you know. The unknown about - what the fuck is out there."

He waves a hand. "There weren't many mysteries like that left on earth. Stuff that shocked."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion reaches down to give Mae a little fuss.

"Earth seems...smaller, than Toril. I don't mean that in a derogatory way, more that - well, we have gods and devils and races of other planes, using its people as pieces on some grand chessboard. Some of those people are made kings and knights, while others are simply pawns for strategic disposal. And that's without accounting for the power politics going on within Toril itself."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Used to be different, centuries ago. But we got phones now. Devices like the ones here that connect us to everyone in the world. We have cameras and video and drones and everything else that makes the world smaller and less - wild," he explains. "Doesn't mean we had magic, but - shit used to be bigger. It used to have a reason."

He shrugs. "Just means you have to pick a better place."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"I wonder if that place exists sometimes," Astarion admits, quietly. "Though maybe here, we're working with a rather...biased sample."

Nobody seems to get to the Barge by living an even semi-normal life.