[ Jesper is often in the Free Cities these days due to his business with Hilda, and this is Kaz's favorite stomping ground so his husband loves when he stays around. He'd probably prefer to languish in the Feywilds all day, but they don't worship. The mining camps make him a little sad, but despite being gods, they can't fix everything or perfect the world around them. ]
Darling, my set of skills may be slightly different these days, but my original powers are still very easy to call on.
[ Jesper just has more power than he used to, and he uses his transmutation abilities all the time in his average life. They come the most naturally to him because they are, they're not a gift or a long-term Singularity compulsion. What he can do though is conjure up some fabric and much nicer, smoother wool, a type that is entirely of his own making. It practically feels like silk and has a shine about it.
And that makes him think much more about Astarion. He remembers the way his hair used to feel. It makes him qualified to figure out what substance to make this. He winks at his former lover and puts his hands on the shrine. He still uses the materials that were made with loving care from the humans, but he can snazz it up, and now the face looks crafted to Astarion's polished features. ]
There. A little more befitting your beauty, my friend.
[ The humans will see the change and think it's a good omen, to have something they clumsily put together be turned beautiful. The god's favor must be there. And Astarion gets a pretty shrine to himself. ]
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Darling, my set of skills may be slightly different these days, but my original powers are still very easy to call on.
[ Jesper just has more power than he used to, and he uses his transmutation abilities all the time in his average life. They come the most naturally to him because they are, they're not a gift or a long-term Singularity compulsion. What he can do though is conjure up some fabric and much nicer, smoother wool, a type that is entirely of his own making. It practically feels like silk and has a shine about it.
And that makes him think much more about Astarion. He remembers the way his hair used to feel. It makes him qualified to figure out what substance to make this. He winks at his former lover and puts his hands on the shrine. He still uses the materials that were made with loving care from the humans, but he can snazz it up, and now the face looks crafted to Astarion's polished features. ]
There. A little more befitting your beauty, my friend.
[ The humans will see the change and think it's a good omen, to have something they clumsily put together be turned beautiful. The god's favor must be there. And Astarion gets a pretty shrine to himself. ]