dont know where your mind is

BASTIEN

'Cause you've got a mind that is so hell bent on
Fixing me up before I get my coat off

Bastien supposed he ought to be glad that Azrael was doing exactly what he said they should; adventuring, feeling out new experiences and people...but Gods, he wished they could do it wrapped in cotton wool in their bedroom. He just politely smiled as they confirmed they had fun, wondering if this was how his own father had felt when he'd announced he was going to Venice.

"Emyr King and he is the Prince? That is...ironic naming. What can this Prince do?" Being an old Ascended and worthy of special mention, Bastien assumed the new comer might have some kind of special ability.

His fingers slid off the smooth surface of the Spire slowly, Bastien stepping around to the entrance of the Spire. "Yes, that'd be nice. Azrael, let me ask you something. Do you plan to be involved in the war? To...fight?" There was obviously an answer he'd prefer to hear, but Bastien left the question open, entering the Spire and beginning the ascent.

You with those hands that are so hell bent on
Making a mess to suggest you'd think something