TLV: IC Contact

[sixfeetofdirt]

Careful; I bite.

Comments

[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?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"They're not usually seen above ground," Astarion says, following him in. "I doubt it was trying to swim. More likely it got into a fight with something and lost."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Once they're inside and Mae is at his feet, he slides an arm around Astarion with a smirk. "Seems like a way to trash your river, but hey. Maybe it helps."

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion huffs a half laugh and leans into Jacob.

"Unlikely. I'm sure some of the fish were also very ugly, but I was only out after dark. Most fishermen seem to prefer daylight."

And the Flaming Fist tended to prefer dredging out corpses when there were fewer people around to be disturbed by them.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Oh good, then you can tell me if the ugly fish on Earth match up with what you have."

And Jacob gets to watch some nature! It's a win-win.

The door dings and Jacob kisses his cheek before he leads the way out.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion smiles, almost in spite of himself, at this fleeting affection.

"I suppose I'll be interested to see what your planet would describe as a 'monster'."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"I'm sure you've got myths and legends and folklore and all that. I've found that the real monsters, the things that we've actually seen, are more interesting than the things we've made up. Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster...stuff like that - just legends. Monsters. Anyway, that's not as interesting as the stuff they've actually found in the oceans," he explains, in a string of words much longer than most any he's put together. He feels a bit like he's rambling, so he stops, but there's a part of him that has relaxed since port.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion squeezes his arm gently.

"Now, that sounds fascinating. Perhaps we could find something to watch about those creatures? The library seems to be back in one piece."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"What, Bigfoot?" he asks, looking over at him with a smile.

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Gods, no, I know what feet are. I meant your strange ocean creatures."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Another laugh. "Yeah. Let's drop off Mae and we'll find something in the library." A change of plans isn't necessarily a bad thing for Jacob. He's happy enough to spend time with Astarion like this. Being friends.

"I'll cover your eyes at the scary parts with tentacles, alright?"

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Thank you," Astarion says primly. "No need to do that now, though. As far as today is concerned, I'm entirely invested in your river monsters."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Good, then maybe we can convince Rosita to join us for that one." He's been trying to get her to slow down a little. Maybe this will pave the way.

He unlocks his door and takes off his shoes, setting them to the side as Mae rushes in, right to her crate, for a well-deserved nap.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion watches her go as he toes off his boots.

"That would be nice. She seems preoccupied with keeping busy, at times."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Hard to break out of that nomadic life," he mutters, digging out his DVD player. "I get it, to an extent, but I don't think she's comfortable unless she's - uncomfortable. More alert."

Most of his room is the same, though he's added a pencil sketch of hands in prayer that sits over his dresser in a frame.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion notices it immediately - he's perceptive, it comes with the rogue territory - and meanders over for a better look.

"Where did this come from?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He notices the movement and pauses. "Uh. Yeah. That was my brother's. John. Norton used the water to restore them since they were...ruined in the chapel."

[sixfeetofdirt]

"Ah. Better for you to have it here where you can keep it safe," he murmurs, leaning closer. "It's beautiful work."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"Yeah, he was always good at that. Had a shitton of tattoos that he designed himself. He's the one that put the emblem on me."

He places a hand on his ribs, where his tattoo rests.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Astarion nods, his gaze following Jacob's hand.

"Does it make it easier or harder, to have that mark on you? Something he created? It...must be difficult not to think of him."

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"I don't mind the reminder. He's my brother."

He has Miller's dog tags and the scars from the Bliss and the fires. He's full of memories.