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[illithidnapped]

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[illithidnapped]

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.

[heirring]

[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.

[illithidnapped]

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.

[heirring]

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.

[illithidnapped]

[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?

[heirring]

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.

[illithidnapped]

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.

[heirring]

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.

[illithidnapped]

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.

[heirring]

[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.