Bound By The Red String Of Fate

"I'm drained like a fuckin' pipe or something, man. Like a dead body. Not hard to stay pessimistic."

Again, he likes to think he's just realistic.

"Gods, when was the last time we got those ears of yours checked?" There's a teasing affection there, but he swats the light away, offering some fruit to the clearly ravenous hulking man.

"Use my study. Don't touch the bookshelf under the bay window, but feel free to use the room. It has several chalk boards and pin boards and more than a few desks." It was once Roberto's space, red eyes flicking to the side before his smile softened. It was clear he was trying to finally move on, but emotions were tying him in knots.

"No building anything, you can only work on papers and theories, the lab is for building. If anything goes wrong it's Heimerdinger's problem." He clears his throat, feeling it tighten. "I'll be in the garden if you need me. Leave the house without me and you'll find yourselves in jail if not banished because those idiots are power hungry." He moves to grab his old apron, well loved, the one he'd made for Roberto only to become the gardener when the man complained of his knees.

"Be good you three. Don't do anything I wouldn't." With that, he slips out the back door to the lush paradise he's cultivated over the decades, leaving Viktor to turn to Badou.

"He's-- yeah, he's a big deal. I didn't know any of this until I was older. And we weren't-- like that."

And Astarion trusts his instincts. Trusts him. Wow-- that still doesn't feel real, all this praise is just-- unfathomable. Nearly uncomfortably nice-- he isn't used to this, even now.

"You're very accommodating for strangers. I would have assumed someone of your stature to be a bit more... Stingy." Viktor's voice rolls out slowly, having abandoned his half eaten food for his book again.

"I know lost souls with light in their eyes and a hope for change when I see them." He waits for those very eyes to tear from page to meet his own, smiling. "Millennia of practice, darling. The world has gotten quite dull and dark, hasn't it? Paladins and Clerics forced to hide when they could change so many lives with the same ease as one breathes." Viktor hesitates, brows furrowing as he watches the elf now.

"And your expectations of this?" The scientist is challenging, though he does flick eyes to Jayce who'd been trying to steal the remnants of his meal, sliding the plate to the eager pup.

Well, Badou can't hold in the amusement. He snorts loudly, away from the coffee, thankfully, and puts it down to dig into his plate. The nostalgia is overpowering, from the vibes right down to the meal itself-- it takes him back in time, with different actors this time.

He hopes Astarion is enjoying it as much as he is. The looks on their faces....as if they had any choice.

"I.... So you standing up for me at the court room... It wasn't just a job?" He asked, voice ever smaller than even when he'd been interrogated by Badou and Viktor.

"Hmm? Oh, no that was personal on many levels. Two of them are still breathing enough to be able to be on that board because of my work centuries ago. That and..." He pauses, looking to Badou, smiling softly before turning to his coffee. "I've learned to trust the instincts of my son. He saw you as a good guy in need of help. It just so happened that the board inadvertently gave me adoption rights, basically. You're under my watch permanently when you work on anything tech or arcane based."

"Did you have fun planning all this, 'Star?" He asks his father figure with a raised brow.

Jayce swallows what he was eating, looking to Viktor, the two sharing confused uncertainty. Jayce then glances to Astarion, those soft seemingly permanently heart broken eyes watching him.

"With all do respect, Mr. Ancunin. We're not strays needing homes." Viktor tried to argue, earning a raised brow from the elf.

Like a switch, there it was, he leans back on the counter, mug in his hands, slowly stirring it, the smirk barely compressed.

Ah, right. He's grown. That was a long time ago. He takes a few moments to collect himself, take care of his needs and so forth. When he stumbles downstairs he's got an unlit cigarette in his mouth, and a fresh jumper half zipped.

"Not yet, though this one is trying with all his puppy eyed heart." He motions to Jayce who tenses, squinting, Viktor too lost in some book to really pay attention, eyes and finger trailing as he barely forces himself to sip his coffee. "Viktor. Close it or I throw it in a box."

Badou lets Astarion retire to bed, his own bedtime ritual more pondering, maybe a few note reviews. Anything to keep his own memories at bay.

He moves about, careful to be as quiet as he could, setting up pans. Within the hour, he knocked on Badou's room door, smiling to himself over an old memory as he calls out instinctively.

"Badou, darling. I made breakfast. Some of your favorites. Careful, I think the broad one might devour it all." It's warm, sweet, a sound laden with warmth, like a thick blanket over idle reminiscing.

But soon he's downstairs, gently helping Viktor to his own coffee, ruffling his hair and gently slapping a wandering tan hand from the pile of bacon before serving the scientists their portions.

He lets Astarion's affectionate ruffling linger just long enough before ducking away.

"I'm always here for some healthy pessimism. And if you think you can work this out, if it can help...I ain't gonna walk away."

His eyes shimmer with purple light as he raises a hand, touching the other's forehead delicately.

He stood worlds away, lifetimes in the past, a man with tanned skin, breathing hard, eyes wild with pain and panic, uncertainty clear as he looks to the viewer.

"But I don't know anything else! I... She's been my world since I was ten, Astarion. How... How do I know what to do? What's right only angers her!" the voice of the man is frayed, like he'd been crying, given away by the red in his eyes.

Pale fingers reach out, brushing brown locks from the other's face, gaining those sad, kicked puppy brown eyes.

"You find hope in the darkness, Gale. I've lived more years than I think you understand. Longer than Her. Whenever there is darkness suffocating the world, it's always those who seek the light that summons the brighter days. We aren't dead yet, what's right is simply that, the right thing to do. No one's views should ever matter, but your own." there's a shift, the elf guiding the human, no older than Jayce, to lay against his chest as another fit of tears comes.

"At the end of the day. If you die feeling disgust for your actions, did you truly live your life, or the one your masters made for you?"

The memory fades, flickering at the end to the sight of that very man, standing tall and proud, in robes clearly made with love from the elf himself, standing against the grand arch mage, his tutor, protecting the very city they live in now.

"As cheesy as it is, my old friend Jannette was right. Light always finds a way, even if it needs to be nurtured and guided along the way." He smiles, returning the stone to it's home draped in fine hand made silks. "I'll see you in the morning, Badou. Do try to rest."

It makes sense the longing pain, the sparks of loss. Gale and Roberto were another life of one another so to speak, one nurturing Astarion in ways he never knew;

How to love.

"Enough to burn any bridges you could've had with those assholes at the top? They won't like you much."

Astarion can protect himself, that's for sure. But still....

"I am the reason Heimerdinger is even allowed to breathe still, same with that woman, the scent of a mage leeches off her." He offers the special book, one he'd told the other if he touched it he'd break his hand.

"I think it's time you read one of these. This is from a man centuries ago. We fought the war, struggled through it. He died not long before I met Robbie. I'm not sure if you know History very well, but his name was Gale Dekarios." Lips curl at the very name, not unlike it would for lost friends.

Or Roberto.

"A man from the slums, gifted with the arcane, a true archmage. In a war where mages turned rogue and vile, he stood with the people to protect the innocent. Most grew fearful seeing him at first, until he used his power to protect them. He wasn't the one to kill, that was always my job, but he was a man of values, integrity." His eyes softened, a small pain in the red rings.

"He wasn't always so. When he was young, he was groomed by an archmage, manipulated until he shook free of the control and turned on his masters, just as I had my own." Red trails the curling mark on the leather bound cover. "It took a lot of convincing when I found the twenty year old man, desperate for her approval since ten, frantic to be in her graces again after refusing to strike an innocent city." He chuckles, eyes warming.

"As I have said. With the right influence, I can see the world turning brighter, just as it had during the war, so too will it now. He needs support, stability and care that doesn't shake because he did something reckless. He should be allowed to make mistakes, he, just like you, is still young. Who better to guide him than the dusty old man who's had experience more than once wrangling magical geniuses?" He ruffles the other's hair lightly with a mage hand, eyes tinting with cheek.

"Besides, I think he could use an older figure like you closer to his age to keep him on the right track. A little pessimism would do wonders." He himself had it in spades, but seeing the broad figure of a scientist, especially beside Viktor, he cannot help but see lost friends alive once more.

Once the science boys get settled and are probably going to talk all night until the sun comes up, Astarion sure looks comfy there in Robbie's chair. He looks like a storybook, like the ones he'd read as a child, nothing of those war-stricken eyes in those old tomes.

The info broker settles on an opposite chair, lights a cigarette and huffs.

It'd be a lot for such a young mind inexperienced in the madness of the world.

Badou sighs, relaxing his shoulders a little. His mouth quirks a little.

"When am I known to not have private rooms not soundproofed? I don't want to hear what you're doing." IT's playful, but he leads them on, giggling to himself.

By late evening the other two were shown their room, having claimed one together with two beds to sleep in, leaving the elf in his love's old comfy chair, reclined with a glass of wine and an old magical tome, content to let the world fall away, yet alert.

He doesn't doubt Astarion can do it. Again on the 'he's old' part, and he's powerful-- the little hamster councilor might be an issue, he doesn't know how much power he's got, but-- the repercussions. The power vacuum? What'll settle in to take over that? The people in the Lanes? The Undercity?

He has to make sure Astarion doesn't have to do that.

He smiles when he's addressed again, strained.

Badou gives a sarcastic little salute.

"I'll make sure. But...the enforcers are gonna try all they can, the council will do all they can in the shadows, to try and make some deals. Get them doing weapons and who the hell knows what."

"Even if I have to kill the council to protect them." It's low, for Badou only before his lips curled into a sweet smile, nearing the two and praising their work. "Wonderful work you two. Rest is in order now. We'll take the notes and the stones so no one can meddle with things whilst we're gone, sound fair?" When the two perked up at his presence, clearly silenced from their fears.

"Ah... Yeah, I should... It's been a long week. I should probably sleep before I collapse. Though... I'm not sure the family will welcome me after the trial. They... Already denounced me." Jayce deflates slightly, earning a confused raise of Viktor's brow.

"I have spare rooms for you both. You're still under my care from the trial, Jayce. And Viktor, I know you'd be more than eager to prattle on the night away until sleep eventually claims you. All documentation and stones will remain with me outside of work hours." Astarion smiles as Viktor looked almost shy at being called out, though the elf does turn to Badou.

"I think after everything I wanna stay on the ground." Trains don't scare him anymore, but dark shadows still do.

Something else does occur to him. "You're also old as shit, I guess it does make sense you'd know a thing or two, be able to sense when things are going to go to shit."

"I had the best teacher this world could possibly offer." It's soft as he watches the two young figures eagerly smiling to each other, a pang of loss driving a stake into his heart, forcing him to look away.

It wasn't Roberto trailing his mind, haunting him and twisting his face into agony that he covered with a hand, rubbing his face to try and collect that mask he'd fumbled. Another past, something far *deeper* than his beloved.

"Yeah, yeah, this is all great and all, really magic stuff, mmm-hmmm," He's really just all grumbles, petulant that all this happened and he couldn't even enjoy the weightlessness.

He's a tad embarrassed, and grumpy about it.

"If you wanted to float, you need only ask. I'd done it a few times when you were little after all." He's not sure the other would remember when he was but a few years, wanting to fly.

"And no, I wasn't too surprised. From what little I picked up from their more tech based babbling and the shift in the stone based on their tuning of the machine... Well, Teleportation is something I remember deeply. When unrefined, it can cause the world on each side of the portal to drift and float." It's calm, though he watches the other.

Badou was naturally the perfect background music-- his screams of terror and shock as he held on to Astarion for dear life as they all floated around-- its a gentle scene, whereas the beginning of which was more violent. Terrifying. But to think something that began so frighting became such a gentle, warm light-- a glow-- and even the laughter from the two new addition of the scientists...

The conversation is light, pride rolling from the elf as he spoke. When they rushed to explain what happened he reached near the center. His hand ripped back, taking a breath. Soon, he trailed marks in the air and pressed it in close, honing the untamed power, showing that his age old power was the missing link to fully harnessing this work.

When the light slowly dimmed it lowered the three together, the small gate remaining until they were able to turn the machine off, silencing the manifested arcane.

"Well, with a display so masterfully done, I think we're done here." He turns to the critter who looks terrified but accepts it.

"I'll write my report on what happened." With that, the room was left to the four men, Astarion moving back to Badou.