illithidnapped

Oh I minded it very much. In fact that's why I chose that exact wording, my dear.

[Just for you.]

Anyway, how about a deal? I agree to confess all the...sordid little details of my vampirism, and you agree not to write any of it down in that record or journal— or whatever it is you're no doubt peppering with stolen knowledge.

This is purely between us. Sworn to utmost secrecy.

Very well. You have my most solemn oath that I shall not record any part of it.

Excellent.

Because creatures of the night are quite capable of slithering about wherever they like, rifling easily through secrets kept even under lock and key.

I should hate to think of what might happen if you were deceiving me.

[And then, cheerfully:]

But you aren't. Why, you'd never. No, I can tell already that we're birds of a feather, and there's some sort of relevant saying regarding that which no doubt works to emphasize the bond between us that I deeply feel.

Yes, yes, you are very intimidating. Now if you are quite finished, Mister Astarion—

[Take him seriously Wysteria!!!!]

As you already know, I’m a vampire. Normally we feed on blood to survive— I’ve subsisted solely on animal blood, mind. Never once harmed a thinking person to sate my own appetite.

At any rate, I haven’t felt....thirst since my arrival. In fact I haven’t felt much of anything that should normally be affecting me.

In sunlight, I should be cinders. Running water should be burning me like acid. I don’t even need an invitation to enter homes. On the other end of things I can’t compel someone with a gaze, and for once in my unlife I find myself needing to breathe.

But I’ve still my fangs, and my instincts. And I don’t know if what’s happened to me is only temporary, or...

Well, it’s not important I suppose.

[A better subject:]

Is this all you typically do in a day? Comb the crystals, interrogate fresh souls for an ounce or two of interesting information?

Not at all. I am a dedicated member of the Research division, assistant to the Seneschal [for now; Cassius is going to do her the indignity of firing her shortly] and consultant to Project Felandaris. It is the purview of this last one under which he presently speak, although obviously now I suppose it is only for my own edification given that you have forbid me from reporting the information officially. Have you attempted to drink the blood of any animal since you arrived?

[This question she strings together so smoothly with the great diatribe which preceded it that it may be difficult to realize it is a question at first. But the pause which follows is demandingly expectant.

Well?]

Well aren't you just the most resourceful little thing? And here I thought I was filling out some baseline questionnaire meant to wring out fresh recruits.

No, darling, I have not. And as long as I can get away with it, I don't intend to.

[Somewhere out there, basking in his own fluid attention span, he's setting his chin atop his palm.]

What's the most interesting thing you've ever been told by an interviewee? Recent memory or otherwise.

That Thedas was not the first strange world into which they had fallen, [is her immediate answer, and then she makes a small noise and blurts out an alternative:] And once Mister Stark described dessert coffee, although that was not discussed within the context of the survey.

Why avoid it? Is the drinking of blood very unpleasant? Poor flavor, I suppose.

Coffee? Alternate worlds? Is that really the best of the whole lot?

[As for the rest, consider it audibly sidestepped in favor of his own disappointment. Boo.]

Dessert coffee.

[Boo yourself. That is a most vital distinction.]

Riveting.

[Flattest of the flattest tones ever to be heard.]

I was hoping for something a little more exciting. A little more daring.

...a little more scandalous.

[Her scoff has a certain propulsive quality about it which suggests it must be an impressive thing to witness in person.]

I hardly see how the questions I have proposed to you could really elicit much in the way of scandal. This is not the work of a rumor monger, sir. It is to collect information useful to the study of the nature of Rifters and the anchor.

Oh come on, you’re telling me no one’s confessed to anything beyond the pale? That Thedas only kidnaps the most mundane of travelers to be its stalwart protectors?

No three-headed dragons, no gods, no— [He huffs, sounding completely put out.] I don't know, wild beasts capable of writing sonnets.

Forgive me, sir. [Is that a trace of snobbish bullheadedness? A certain digging in of the heels?

Yes, absolutely.]

But you asked what I had been told in these interviews, not what I knew generally speaking. Surely your own part in this has proven that people, particularly the ones which might have something very interesting to say, have a habit of being rather careful about their choice of words when put into a position where they must confess the thing directly.

Gossip is a very different thing from research, Mister Astarion.

[It pulls from him a soft snort of approval. A delicate, thready sort of sound.]

So you are trustworthy after all.

Of course the downside of that everyone else’s secrets are equally safe from me, but that’s a reality I can live with.

But what about you, my dear? Are you originally from Thedas— or one of our own kidnapped few?

You can hardly describe the act of falling through the rifts as kidnapping when it seems to be a largely random phenomenon and no one seems to have made the selection purposefully. [Snit, snit, snit. However—]

But yes. I am also a Rifter. We are in fact nearing the third anniversary of my arrival.

I’ll take it up with the Maker when next we chat. That ought to settle the pesky little matter of semantics.

[Feather light tone, honey sweet— utterly teasing.]

Three years. How time flies.

And...what of your anchor? I’ve heard the things can turn quite ugly when they’ve a mind to.

If by ugly you mean developing a series of little talents such as closing rifts faster and creating defensive shields, then yes. It is very ugly indeed.

[If he's going to tease her, then there is no reason whatsoever not to insist on bragging.]

The reports of anchors doing serious injury to the individuals with then have been, frankly, somewhat few and far between. Which is not to say there is no danger. Only that in a time of war, the rate of the thing's deterioration is a somewhat lesser concert. Madame Baudin has had hers for even longer.

Oh yes, of course. I was only inquiring out of worry, naturally, considering the possibility. Inherent concern for you.

It'd be a pity to make such a charming acquaintance only to lose it not long after.

[A lone beat, before:]

And— truth be told— I'm in terrible need of a friend, you know, being a solitary soul in a very unfamiliar world.

[Suspicious squint.]

Is that so? Well, perhaps you might tell me which division you have decided to join and I might recommend a few fast friends you might make within it. I would be most happy to organize a few introductions.

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