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[helpinghidinghaunting]

"Hello. This is Cole.

Make mention of your message here. I'll find you. It. Both."

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[illithidnapped]

Tell me you’re staying out of trouble.

[The quiet as of late is disconcerting; either the Spirit’s doing exceptionally well in acclimating—

Or he’s already been slain, banished, exorcised or— whatever it is one does to get rid of a ghost in flesh’s clothing.]

[helpinghidinghaunting]

...

I'm staying out of trouble.

[Well, Astarion, you asked. But he sounds well, from his tone.]

[illithidnapped]

By the Hells.

I don’t know what I expected.

[At this point, Astarion only has himself to blame.]

How are you doing, darling. Have you gotten into any trouble— is your world falling apart at its seams—

[helpinghidinghaunting]

Oh.

[Something in him feels warm at the fact that Astarion is asking after him this way - on the other side of the crystal, he smiles a little bit.]

I'm...all right, thank you for asking?

[It sounds awkward, awful, apprehensive - he needs more practice, far from up to standards yet,, he's certain. He sighs, a little guilty.] Sorry, I am...I am trying to be better. At talking.

Heard there is a time for giving coming. I've been getting ready, trying to find what to give. But I...I met so many, so fast. I needed to listen for a little, trade it for the talking.

[There's a vague tremor in his tone - the sort that comes from coming back from overwhelm.]

I'm still not as good at the talking as you are.

[illithidnapped]

Well, naturally. That kind of finesse takes centuries.

[Fanning his own ego does too, apparently.]

But why don’t you start by telling me who you’re considering shopping for. I might actually be able to help.

In the spirit of boredom, I mean. It’s not as if it matters to me what you get them.

[helpinghidinghaunting]

Naturally. [A soft little echo. Still trying to pattern his patter, and Astarion is good at talking.]

Well...most of the people I have met. Whoever needs something. It's the figuring what is good and not...scary that's hard. I don't know what to do for Abby yet. Or Marcus.

I...I understand you are supposed to do nicer things for people you are closer to? I think?

[There's someone he would really like to get just the right thing for, but of course he's not going to ask the recipient what he wants. That almost feels like cheating.]

[illithidnapped]

[This spectral ducking of a spirit.]

Well, that's how gift-giving typically works. The adored reap far richer rewards than any social circle's shunned afterthoughts.

[Still, he's thinking. A terrible sign, given the purpose that typically fuels his focus.]

...you know her well, do you? Abby, I mean.

[helpinghidinghaunting]

[On the other end of the crystal, Cole actually smiles again. The adored. Is that what it's called? Does Astarion realize it's him?]

I hope...he likes what I do.

...

...Abby? Only a little. But she has been...nice, to me. After the book. She didn't mean that. I scared her.

[illithidnapped]

[Self-awareness isn’t one of Astarion’s myriad strengths, truth be told: he slips past that mention with noted ease, incapable of recognizing the hint for what it is.]

Well, if you need a critical eye, you know where to find me.

[Somehow Astarion isn't even surprised to hear Cole had managed to startle the poor creature. Given the way she's locked up in the past, someone might make the assumption she's simply uncomfortable around the unfamiliar. The unexpected. The inhuman.

It's Astarion. Astarion makes that assumption.

But.]

Book? What book?

[helpinghidinghaunting]

Yes. I do. Thank you.

[There is a pause - but Cole sees no harm in explaining.]

When we met, I startled her. She threw a book at me. She felt bad after. Thought I was something else. I could hear it.

[illithidnapped]

Hardly shocking. She’s a defensive thing. Prone to locking up even when no one’s done anything wrong.

[says local menace who does many things wrong.]

Did you see her past, too?

—her pain.

[helpinghidinghaunting]

I didn't mind. I've had people do that before. But they meant to. She didn't mean to.

[His tone drops a little.]

Yes. Bits and flashes. Lights. Sounds.

[illithidnapped]

What sort? [There's no attempt to mask his own curiosity. His thirst for information on this particular subject. Why bother being coy when everything Cole says or does is so potently transparent?]

Tell me everything.

[helpinghidinghaunting]

Oh. Ah....

[Part of Cole wonders if it's the correct thing, to talk about someone else like this. But he doesn't really know what the images meant, exactly, anyway...not unless he dug in, which he didn't do, not with Abby.]

Red lights...loud sounds, like...like something screaming, but not quite?

[illithidnapped]

[His scoff is disappointed. Sharp and withering, punctuated by the click of his tongue against the back of overlong teeth.]

How am I supposed to use that?

Oh, fine. [Flatly:] Good boy, job well done. Come wagging along to me if she lets anything else slip in the future, thank you.

[helpinghidinghaunting]

[There is the faintest sound of a wince at the scoff - but it passes oh-so-quickly. Cole is all too used to disapproval after all, nothing new.]

Use it for what?

To help her?

[illithidnapped]

Mm? Oh. Yes. Of course. [Abrupt. Half-gasped and spat out in a quickened correction, voice running high once more.]

How else can I be expected to lend her a hand if I'm not informed as to every haunting little detail of her no-doubt-bloody-and-also-sordid past?

—so I can avoid them, naturally.

[helpinghidinghaunting]

[Cole may be naive sometimes...but he isn't stupid.

Sometimes, though, it's easier if people think he is, so he doesn't let Astarion in on his sneaking suspicion.]

Right. To help hide the hurts.

Naturally.

[illithidnapped]

Naturally. [He agrees, letting that word seep in as their own calling card of sorts.

But despite being oblivious to Cole catching on, he presses.]

I’ve an interest in her you know, but she’s such a wary little beast. Doesn’t appreciate my nature— which I don’t blame her for of course. Humans can be so...

[helpinghidinghaunting]

...Nervous.

[He finishes the sentence with sympathy in both syllables. He understands that. They have that in common, still, that idea of being other.

But he doesn't linger on the sympathy, knowing Astarion doesn't like it.]

I will tell you. If I learn more.

[illithidnapped]

[His chuckle is smooth, raking along the backs of his fangs.] Thank you, darling.

Ideally I'd like to circumvent another ballroom fiasco, if I can.

[helpinghidinghaunting]

[Cole doesn't respond aloud. He only smiles.]

...Ballroom fiasco? What is a...fiasco?

[illithidnapped]

It’s when a fascinating human that you think is finally beginning to understand you, instead spooks like a startled beast and decides to bodily shove you out of her way in front of an attending crowd.

A fiasco.

[And then, with a touch more punctuating emphasis:]

A disaster.

[helpinghidinghaunting]

Oh.

[The response may be short, but the tone speaks less of pity than it does of experience.]

I will tell you if I...learn anything else to forego a fiasco, then.

[illithidnapped]

Much appreciated, love.

It does get so tiresome at times.

[But that’s neither here nor there.]

Look after yourself until next time. Chin up and all that nonsense.

[helpinghidinghaunting]

[Cole is...still very not used to being called 'love.' He freezes a little on the other side of the crystal, making no sound for a beat or too as his ears go a little red under his hat for reasons he can't quite explain.

It passes quickly, and his tone is the usual reedy rasp when he replies.]

I will. I am.

I will try to keep my...my chin higher than normal.

[Well, he sort of understands that idiom, at least, after their previous lessons in posture.]

[illithidnapped]

[From the other end of the line, there's only the faintest noise of amusement before Astarion cuts their conversation completely.]