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jar-of-maise · 1 year

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"Um Lyney," Paimon began, in an uncharacteristically hesitant voice.

"Oh? It isn't like you to be so shy, please go on, what's on your mind?" Lyney asked, looking up at her curiously.

Paimon looked at Aether anxiously, then floated a little closer to him, shedding sparkles as she flew, "well, some of the kids were telling us about how you tell them about fairytales..." She begins.

"Ah!" Lyney snaps his fingers, "are you here to ask me to tell you some stories? Well why didn't you say so?" He hops up easily, gracefully revealing several embossed hardcover books which fall out of his hat.

"Take a pick! There are many here, don't be shy," Lyney says cheerfully, showing the books off happily, "this one is a personal favourite," he winks at Aether.

The cover is of a golden-haired prince, drawing a sword from his sheath, sparkles dance around his figure. White armour adorns his strong figure. "It's a pretty cover...but," Paimon begins, raising a finger.

Lyney raises his eyebrows, "oh? Not to your taste? That's alright," he twirls the book around on his fingers, then tosses it up in the air, where it disappears after a sharp snap of his fingers.

"How about this one? It's about a mermaid and her journey to the human world," Lyney offers, smiling at Paimon and Aether as he shows them the book.

"Well, they're all very nice but–" Paimon tries again.

"Goodness! Have you always driven such a hard bargain?" Lyney asks comically, shaking his head, the books tumble down from his hands as he sighs in defeat.

"Lyney." Lynette says with a deadpan look on her face, "they probably want you to tell them a specific story."

"Yeah!" Paimon exclaims, "thank you Lynette!"

"No worries," Lynette says, crossing her arms and nodding, "my brother does have a habit of talking too much," she says, tail swishing side to side.

"Hey! I'm still here you know!" Lyney cries.

Lynettte fixes him with a very exasperated glare, "I know."

"Oh Lynette, how could you be so cruel to your dear brother?" Lyney whines, slumping, a few cards slipping out from underneath his hat. They fall sadly onto the ground, like limp autumn leaves.

"Um..." Aether begins, "we were hoping to hear about the story you created for the kids here," he says hopefully.

"The story...I made?" Lyney asks, perking up, "you want to hear my stories?" He asks in a tone so innocent that Aether can't help but feel endeared by his excitement.

"Yeah! Of course we do, you're a great storyteller Lyney!" Paimon cheers, "yeah!" Aether agrees, nodding vigorously.

"Well then," Lyney gathers his cards in one sweeping motion, shoving them back into his hat, "I can't disappoint my audience then, can I? Please take a seat, the show will be put on momentarily." Lyney grins, gesturing at the table in front of them.

"Please help yourself," Lynette says in a monotone voice as Paimon and Aether slid into their seats. She places her hat onto the table, and once she removes it, trays and plates of snacks appear magically.

"Wow! Thank you! Paimon's digging in then!"

Lynette nods, satisfied, she pours herself a cup of tea and takes a long sip from her cup.

"So Lyney," Paimon says to the magician, who's mumbling to himself as they help themselves.

"Hm? What's up?" Lyney asks curiously.

"The children here said that this story was called, 'The Thief's Hope' but, they also said that it has a sad ending," Paimon comments, "is that true?"

"Ah, you want to hear that story," Lyney says, there's an unreadable expression on his face, "well I wouldn't say it's that sad, uh, it's just not your typical fairytale."

"Yet the kids still love this story," Aether says, watching as Lyney puffs out his cheeks in slight disagreement.

"Yeah I don't really know why," Lyney laughs, slumping onto a nearby couch with a poof!

"Hey, at least that means you're a good story teller!" Paimon says comfortingly, nibbling on a cupcake as she talks.

"Perhaps," Lyney looks at Aether, then at Lynette. His eyes are wistful as he gazes at his hands silently. Outside, the rain was pouring ceaselessly. A cold wind brushed by and the water rapped on the windows. Lyney thought for a long time, then he just sighed fondly, fingers tracing a seam on his shorts before smiling brightly at Aether and Paimon.

“Alright! Let me tell you the story!” He jumps up from the chair and bows deeply, “Lynette, if you would please,” he bows towards his sister who sighs, “fine," she says.

Lynette snaps her fingers and just like magic, a large backdrop appears behind Lyney, Paimon gasps in surprise and Aether leans forward curiously. It’s a depiction of the Fontaine streets, and the desolate piece of artwork is crafted with life-like accuracy.

“Allow me to take you back in time,” Lyney steps forth, a hand tucked behind his back as he twirls his hat on his fingers.

“There once lived a young boy, he was very poor and often worried about when his next meal would come by,” Lyney snapped his fingers and a little doll fell down from somewhere above his head, it was neatly stitched together, yet dirty and battered as though it had been abused and never loved.

Lyney smiled and nodded at Lynette who waved her hand. A spotlight shone onto the makeshift “stage” focusing on the tiny doll who picked himself up and began to walk around.

“He was often bullied, looked down upon and slowly, he found himself pushed to the darkest streets, where the light did not fall,” as he spoke, Lyney flicked his fingers, they appeared as dark, long shadows on the harsh light of the backdrop and the doll was flung away.

“But he never forgot what being in the light felt like,” Lyney’s voice echoed from somewhere, like a omnipresent narrator. As he spoke, the little doll picked itself up and began to stumble slowly towards the audience, “he longed to go back, there was a hole in his heart that he wanted to fill. A void that was as dark as the night sky.”

The inky blackness that suddenly filled the stage was so desperate and suffocating that Paimon audibly gasped. No light shone, indeed, it seemed as though even the oxygen was being removed from their lungs. Aether wondered if this too, was a part of the magic.

"He tried to fill his heart with the scraps that littered the streets," Lyney's voice began to speak again, "he hoarded those little things zealously, even they had no love for him and he had no love for them."

A small pinprick of light appeared on the stage and focused on Lyney's figure, he stood in the centre, with a grave expression on his face.

"His fingers were nimble and his feet too, were agile," Lyney smiled, a small doll appearing on his hand.

"He took the memories and love of others, he tried to light up the darkness in his heart with the light and warmth of others." Lyney procured a candle, "but he could not chase away the cold in his heart, nor could he brighten any corner of that room, for it was locked!"

Lynette grimanced into her cup, but begrudgingly waved her hand. The flame of the candle died out as she waved her hand and Lyney smiled widely.

"How should I light up this dark heart?" Lyney walked across the stage, making a thoughtful expression, "Ah! The boy realised something, when he was wandering the streets one day!"

Lyney smiles, carefully placing the doll down, "people crave the unknown, they are fascinated by fantasy…and what better way to achieve that than–” a sudden burst of streamers erupted from behind his back, “magic?”

The backdrop changed, it was a light and happy scene, where the doll reappeared, looking much cleaner and put together, the doll was surrounded by other dolls, they were smiling at him.

"If I can't love myself...and I can't take it from others, what if I made them give it to me? That was what the thief thought," Lyney grinned, blowing a shower of confetti hearts at his audience.

Aether smiled slightly when some of the paper brushed his cheek.

"So he began to try and perform, with the few skills he had learned from stealing. No matter how he tried to mask his true self, this boy was a thief," Lyney pointed at the heinous doll with an accusatory finger.

"The truth was that he was a thief, and that all his story-truths were lies." Lyney declared.

Aether and Paimon smiled knowingly, Lynette helped herself to a muffin. She was enjoying the chance to enjoy as many treats as she could.

“So the thief had finally found something that could fill up his empty heart," Lyney kept talking, "but still, the feeling of emptiness persisted. So he kept performing, kept going, just to chase that feeing," butterflies flew out from Lyney's finger tips as he spoke.

“The treacherous thief lied his way to the top. He tricked people ceaselessly, putting on a show that the masses would love. Lies were piled up on falsehoods. The thief could no longer return to the shadows of his past."

Lyney made a shape with him fingers where the light reflected it's shadow onto the backdrop, "The Thief looked down at the world from on top of the tower he’d built. It was exquisitely crafted, held together by fabricated illusions. He was a sinner, a devil who’d escaped from hell who was undeserving of the light he had gained."

Aether's eyes narrowed slightly, he sipped some tea but listened attentively, Lyney noticed this change, smiling to himself he thought, 'ah he gets it.'

Lyney kept talking, "Like a famous actor, the parts that he had to play continued to increase. People’s lives were entrusted to his hands at night, and in the daytime, he stole people’s hearts. He had never been bested and life itself, was the stage for his craft.

He sat under the night sky one lonely evening, gazing out into the inky darkness. The thief looked at the stars, they had always sparkled so beautifully, untouched by pain or sorrow. He wanted that light, even though he knew he could never emulate that gentle radiance.

That was when he met her,” Lyney’s voice took on a reminiscing tone and suddenly Aether was seized by a strange thought, was this just a mere story? He had no time to ponder this question, because Lyney was moving onto the next part of the story.

”Who was she?" Lyney wondered aloud, "well, perhaps she could be described like a burst of sunlight in a cold, frosty winter, or a wonderful flower blossoming in a wasteland...but no," he paused, "she was more than just those."

"She was the steady roll of waves on the ocean, she was the star that never left the night sky," it seemed like Lyney had forgotten his magic in that moment. He stood before them, as a performer still, but Aether realised that this was not only a story, but a reflection of Lyney himself.

"She was not words, she was a feeling," Lyney almost whispered to himself. Yet in the breathless silence that beheld the room, he may as well have shouted those words. Upon beholding this vulnerable side of Lyney, Aether couldn't help but smile sadly.

"The Thief was a certain kind of summertime sadness, one that spring couldn't cure," Lyney said slowly, withered petals falling with every step he took backward, away from the audience.

"He had no words that could describe her, for all the stories The Thief had spun, all the lies he'd said, there was no word he knew that could speak about the truth in her. But The Thief liked to call her mon armour," Lyney smiled bitterly, there was a hatred in the way he uttered those words.

Aether was taken back, but he didn't know why Lyney seemed to dislike those last few words so much.

"Her presence was gentle, yet searing. To The Thief who couldn't remember hugs or caresses, her touches was an uncomfortable, addicting burn."

Sitting in the audience, Lynette looked at her reflection in her cup sadly. This, was his way of atoning for lies, by weaving truths into his stories so that he might not spin falsehoods. She knew Lyney better than anyone else, to most this was obvious, but they didn't know about the hopes of her older brother. Past his light, and his shadow, was a young boy who loved to love and be loved.

That, was also a kind of truth.

"This Thief," Lyney murmured, "he was a haunted house, hollow from inside to out, plagued by a restless soul that was more focused on destroying the construct that kept it existing than anything else. Every now and then, a wind would rush through and open half-closed, weeping wounds.

The people who sojourned in this house did not help the soul, they loved only the mystery, the romance, the unattainable nature of his performance. And often left the house shabbier than when they first entered.

But not mon armour, she came in, like a little ghost. Planting purple wisteria in his mind, with wonderful trees that entwined their roots around the house and bound him to the earth. Camomile grew from his scars, moss and dewdrops patched his wounds.

She planted gardens of lavender in his mind, so that his anxiety might be soothed.

If there was anyone that might make him feel like life was worth living on, it would be her. A gentle love, that didn't demand. How funny, The Thief had never once known how to care, he did not think about the emotion itself. Never committed." Lyney nodded, though Aether didn't know if he was talking to himself or his audience.

"Yet he tried, loving was clumsy. He couldn't make sense of the lines he was meant to colour inside and often scribbled outside of those boundaries. But at least, he was less transient, and more of a home now." Lyney drifted off into his own thoughts, "my love, what a wonderful name, if only..."

Aether lets him mumble to himself, Paimon also floats over to him with a soft, melancholic smile. "Poor Lyney..." she says quietly, "the story must mean a lot to him."

"I think there was a bit more than just that," Aether comments, but refrains from saying some of his other thoughts, knowing Paimon would just freak out.

"My brother finds it hard to express himself," Lynette chips in, "thank you for listening to him," she bows her head.

"It's okay, please tell him that we'd listen to him anytime!" Paimon exclaims waving her hands.

"Thank you, I will."

"I know you're not much of a talker, but we'll also listen to you, if you need it," Aether says, smiling brightly at Lynette, who gives him a little smile in response.

"I will cherish that offer." She says, "honestly," she adds, looking at Lyney with a half-endearing, half-fond and equal parts exasperated expression, "for someone who insists he's unlovable, loving sure comes easily to him."

"He has a lot to give," Aether says kindly, Lyney is quiet, a broken piece of cermanic-ware, so fractured yet so well patched up he looks new. Aether is glad he has something to hope for.

"Lyney loves like he breathes but treats it like it's cancer," Lynette replies, "when he first realised he was infatuated he said he got a heart stroke. Yet if loving really was a disease, he'd hope he'd never recover from his illness" Lynette takes a sip of tea and rolls her eyes gracefully. "In that sense, he's utterly hopeless,"

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birb--birb · 1 year

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The more I play, the more I think people that who super dislike Astarion have never experienced a trauma before.

Like ofc you're allowed to dislike a character for any reason, but it also makes so much sense why he is how he is when you unlock his positive approval rating covos. He's a snarky stab happy fuckboy yes, but his quest for power isn't unjustified. Astarion is scared, he's terrified he'll be brought back to Cazador and tortured 5 ways to sunday, if not outright killed. The tadpole is what's keeping him safe, and he isn't going to give it up without a fight. So he thinks the only way to ensure his safety and freedom is to go full scorched earth, take as much power by any means possible no matter who it hurts. He's a spurr of the moment decion maker, of course he's not going to think it through. When your ticket to freedom after 200 years of torture is right there, you don't stop to think about the cost of it, to yourself or others.

Astarion doesn't want power so he can rule over the sword coast, he wants power to make sure no one ever can ever hurt him again. You hear something simular in folks who have experienced trauma (plz understand that I'm generalizing here, trauma is processed differently by different people no one brain is the same). Anger, grief, fear, confusion, terror all are things that can go through your mind after a traumatic event occurs. Your brain is trying to find a way to make things hurt less, so if there's a chance for revenge, or the ability to take back power, you bet your ass its gonna sound delicious to your emotionally flooded brain. This is what I think is at the core of Astarions story. That this confident, cunning, flirtatious vampire is mostly an act, it's what he's practiced and what's protected him thus far. He likely learned that showing any sort of vulnerability is a weakness that will be used against him. His grab for power is selfish yes, but not in the way it seems at the surface. But absolutely power will corrupt absolutely, which is why I say his desire is justified, but not exactly supported depending on what type of run you're doing.

Idk man I just immediately looked at this man and went "aweeh.... it's traumatized". That boi ain't got any coping skills whatsoever and I'm a sucker for characters who's confidence is just a ploy to keep you from seeing just how fucked up they actually are. Anyways each character in this damn game is written so freaking well I could write a billion essays about it everyone say thank you Larian

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