Member
Lunatic Fringe
RPM
SilverSpring
princess
CabbageAngel
Ducksworth
Bastion
Race: Warforged
Class: Guardian
Location: Airship – Top Deck
Mentions: Phia @princess, Arya @potter, Menzai @samreaper, Corin @Lava Alckon
Equipment:
Attire:
☼ Etched and weathered plating with bronze accents.
☼ Fitted harness for carrying supplies.
☼ Worn scarf
Gold Balance: 63 gold
Injuries:
☼ Left shoulder was injured in the battle and is still leaking fluid.
Class: Guardian
Location: Airship – Top Deck
Mentions: Phia @princess, Arya @potter, Menzai @samreaper, Corin @Lava Alckon
Equipment:
Attire:
☼ Etched and weathered plating with bronze accents.
☼ Fitted harness for carrying supplies.
☼ Worn scarf
Gold Balance: 63 gold
Injuries:
☼ Left shoulder was injured in the battle and is still leaking fluid.
The feeling of Corin’s grip brought comfort to Bastion. It was firm, familiar, and a reminder that despite the last few years of his life…he wasn’t actually alone in the world.
For the breifsest of moments, the crowded marketplace, the predators all around them, the bleakness of their situation…it all faded away. For the moment he simply felt the warmth of memory and the closest thing to nostalgia that a Warforged could manage.
“It has, indeed.” His voice, despite being the construct that he was, carried kindness and the joy of seeing an old friend.
Bastion reminisced about the nickname. It was something that confused him for a long time until Sir Talmor himself had explained it directly to him. Those days gone by were full of violence, bloodshed, and death…but they were days with comrades. Those days gave him ultimate purpose. He thought of the last few hours, and just how despite the way things change, maybe his future will be more of the same after all. Bastion wasn’t sure how the thought made him feel, but his mind was disrupted as Corin began speaking of his fall, the crash, the tree, the shield digging into earth. Bastion’s optics narrowed with concern.
He listened to the knight explain that he had not been traveling alone, that there was an elf accompanying him. He watched as Phia checked the man for wounds, and then he listened to the words of Arya and Menzai. finally, his attention turned to Phia once more as she departed deeper into the market. His posture shifted subtly as he watched her traverse the crowd. A fractional angle of the shoulders shifted, weight re-centering as he made sure his word hand was available. The crowd pressing around her suddenly felt heavier. He pushed forward, ready to cut through the mass if needed, ready to retrieve her or whatever must be done to ensure her safety.
Suddenly, she was stopped in her tracks by an elf in extravagant teal, who leaned far too close for his comfort. Bastion moved nearer, silent as a machine designed for war could manage. His gaze analyzed the tailor’s posture, angle of his hands, the proximity to Phia’s exposed skin.
If he touches her again without consent, I will remove his arms. He mulled the idea over in his head. The thought was calm, matter-of-fact even. It was less a threat founded in malice and more a simple calculation.
He listened to them speak.
Phia’s voice bubbled with excitement. Menzai followed after her as will, still protective.
Then the words reached him.
“This one has flowers.”
She wasn’t in danger. It was the delight in her voice that revealed the truth. It was the way her fingers trailed the fabric that indicated she was okay.
Something in Bastion’s core softened as Phia stepped into the changing room.
He scanned the stall again, his optics briefly perceiving the wares the merchant began talking about. Suddenly, something caught his eye.
A flower crown hung among the accessories. The blossoms were pink, and the circlet was simple but appealing even to his eyes. He remembered Phia’s words a moment ago…she had indicated that she likes flowers. Without hesitation, Bastion reached for it.
He held it with reverence, as though it were fragile. He would gift this to her. Surely, she would like it. His attention then drifted toward his companions.
Arya with her quiet strength, watchful eyes, and cautious heart. Menzai…his loyalty to Phia, protective nature, and willingness to put himself in danger for the sake of helping others. They deserved gifts too. He scanned the hats, picked out the perfect two, paid the merchant the 35gp he owed, and excitedly approached Arya and Menzai as he waited for Phia to finish up in the changing room.
First he approached Arya with the frog hat. It was round, green, and had little eyes perched at its top. He hadn’t the slightest clue regarding her affiliation with frogs and other amphibian creatures, but something about the hat spoke to him as though it would be perfect for her. His optics glowed bright-blue with excitement as he extended the hat to the young tiefling woman, a robotic smile stretching across his face.
“This is for you…friend.”
He then turned to Menzai and presented the knit fish cap. It too had eyes, but this one also had floppy fins that reminded him of Menzai’s wolf-like ears. Wolf love fish, or so he figured.
“And this for you, brave companion. You both deserve nice things. Enjoy to your heart’s content.”
His head then turned slightly, seeking out the familiar presence of his old comrade.
“Commander.” He exclaimed, a tiny flicker of pride in his voice at using the title.
“Which hat would you like?” He asked the question with the seriousness of a man offering a selection of mastercrafted weapons…As though choosing correctly truly mattered. Because to him…it did.
As he gave pause for his old friend to answer, Bastion held the flower crown behind his back, waiting patiently for Phia to emerge from the changing room so he could give her the gift he so hoped she would cherish. However, he only wished that there had been a flower crown with eyes like the other hats. His optics softened, pale blue once more as he worried whether she might feel slighted or left out by the lack of the gift’s anthropomorphic features. It was such a cruelty that all of the merchant's wares could not have eyes. That would have been better. That would have been perfect. He simply wished, silently and hopeful, that Phia would prefer flowers over eyes. Only time would tell whether his gift would be a success, or a blunder.
