TLV: IC Contact

[sixfeetofdirt]

Careful; I bite.

Comments

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

To not be alone again.

He's said it already, but maybe it's something that needs reiterating, especially after Rosita.

"Someplace I can hunt, with animals I know or can learn. With places to live outside of cities. And where - I have people." A pack.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"How many people?" Astarion asks, semi-teasing, but also hoping that the desire to accumulate cults doesn't run in families.

(Wait, is that what he wants? Surely he should be in favour of starting a group of loyal followers he can control.

Hm.)

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Enough that I'm not alone, but not so many that I can't be by myself," he snorts. "Three at the most. Two is better."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Rosita, myself and - do our pets count as a person, collectively?"

He's terrifyingly close to wondering if the fantasy of ascension to nigh-godhood is maybe...not as appealing as it used to be.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"They can," he laughs. "Aylin certainly seems to think she's a person with all the times she tries to sleep between us."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"I think while I trance, I'm barely more than furniture to her," he sighs. "It's just as well she's never tried to eat me."

He thinks for a moment. Actively challenges himself to engage with the question. What does he need?

"I wouldn't want to be entirely out in the wilderness," he ventures. "But there are means both magical and technological to bridging that gap. Portals and the like. Having somewhere quiet might be...nice."

Somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. He can...imagine the appeal.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Long as I'm not in a city, I don't think it matters. And Rosita, if she wants to come, needs space to go."

He smiles over at him. "You gotta have some sort of place to get all your nice clothes, huh?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Obviously," Astarion says, giving his shirt a bit of theatrical fussing. "Or at least, somewhere to buy fabric so I can make my nice clothes."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"That something you like doing?" he wonders. "Making your own clothes?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"I...I think so?"

He sounds like that's the most positive answer he can manage.

"I certainly like it more than having to trawl through other people's offerings for something I can tolerate. Or paying someone else to make them for me."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

It's a good natured laugh that he gives him. "Might as well. It's a good skill to have. You sure did a good job on fixing up my pants couple of months ago."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion laughs and gives him a little nudge.

"Would you be willing to let me tear your clothes off if you didn't think I could mend them afterwards?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

His hand combs through his beard again with a laugh. "Fuck yeah. And I'd take that walk naked back to my place. But - it is a bit of a perk."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion giggles, then, high and quick.

"Don't say that, Jacob, or I'm never going to pick up a needle again."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"You say that. Just wait until I get all cleaned up. Then you'll love me in clothes again," he teases. "You ready to go back? I think Mae's had enough?"

She is on her back, snoozing.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion does not have some kind of seizure over the L word, but it's a close thing.

"It seems we've exhausted her for the day, yes. Lead the way."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Precision of language is not Jacob's strong point, and so he breezes on by. "You want to come back to mine?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

He smiles faintly.

"I'd like that very much."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Good. I - really don't want to watch Survivor, but I was able to get something better. I was out fishing and this kid - Hanna - do you know him? He came by."

Jacob perks up considerably at the mention of his little hobbies.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"I know of him." Mostly for his participation in temporarily transforming the ship into a monster-infested fog world. "He has good taste, then?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Maybe. We didn't talk that much about anything. But he did manage to hook a fish and he reminded me of this show called River Monsters. About big, ugly fish. So that's what we're watching."

He laughs to himself, realizing how stupid it might sound.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"This doesn't sound like it's going to endear me to the rural lifestyle," Astarion chuckles. "Though rivers occur in cities too, I suppose. I saw some truly atrocious things being hauled out of the Chionthar."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Why not?" he snorts. "But what did they pull out?" Now he has to know.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Oh - gnolls, the occasional troll, slimes and whatever they'd been...digesting. Most things are vile after spending a few days getting waterlogged and rotten Oh - there was a drider, once." He pauses, then adds for context: "Humanoid from the waist up, giant spider from the waist down."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He pushes the elevator button and walks inside when it opens. "Huh. They don't usually go swimming?"