boxofmisfits | It's Not a Software Glitch

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It's Not a Software Glitch

Sometimes the crew of the Chimaera figured that high command sent them on missions to the Unknown Region just so they didn't have to acknowledge the alien Grand Admiral for a while. Thrawn just took such assignments in stride. Scouts had reported the discovery of a backwater planet near the Unknown Region, and their reports sounded rather strange. A world host to many different native sapient races, able to do strange things that science couldn't explain, which hadn't become space-faring or even technologically caught up to most of the galaxy.

Thrawn was to send a camera crew down to film the planet, both as intel and as potential propaganda material. 'See what these people are going through and how nice would it be if the Empire helped them?' and all that. Thus the Chimaera had taken residence over a large city, later identified as Baldur's Gate, much to the citizens' horror and awe. Apparently their world was no stranger to invaders from another realm.

It was during one of these filming sessions that the crew ran into a rather odd glitch. They filmed a small group of seven people, but only six were showing up on the camera. They could see the man with their own eyes, he was right there, and yet no matter what, he just wasn't showing up on camera. Immediately the group had gone to the tavern where they were staying and reported this to Thrawn. The only explanation was that it was a software glitch, unlike anything they'd seen before. That explanation didn't satisfy Thrawn.

Curiosity immediately piqued, Thrawn asked for a description of the man and the location of where they'd captured the footage, and off he went. He had a pair of Death Troopers, in civilian clothes, nearby just in case, and Thrawn himself wore a hood and sunglasses, which did little to hide his alien features.

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Astarion reached to pick the small statue up- examining it and the material it was made from closely. It looked like it would be worth a decent amount should he sell it- more so considering it was from the stars somewhere. But he quite liked the look of it so perhaps he would keep it. It was quite pretty.

The way the light glinted off of the silver and the crystal eyes especially.

"I suppose this is worth getting poked and prodded a little."

Vampires didn't really get sick, so he didn't really have any frame of reference for what it was like to be medically examined. There had been Malus Thorm, but Astarion didn't think he was the standard for doctors. Certainly not doctors not from Faerûn. And if they did something he didn't like, he had his ways of getting out.

"Where I'm going information won't be worth much... Protection though... Hmm..."

That could be useful until he left to join his siblings and the rest of the spawn.

Thrawn smiled with satisfaction as Astarion accepted the gift. Having seen the man's taste in art, and remembering the goblet he'd purchased, Thrawn had a good idea of what Astarion would like. It was good to know that he was correct.

"Protection, yes. You said that you were a magistrate before, yes? Assuming that you were telling me the truth, I may have an offer for you as well."

It was risky, and could backfire, but Thrawn was confident. And it he was right, it could work out in both of their favors.

"I was."

There was honesty there. Because he had been. Admittedly it was centuries ago, and it had been a very long time since he'd put his nose down in a book of law or appeared in court to hand down any rulings. So long that he barely remembered most of it other than the night he'd gotten jumped. But Astarion didn't think it would be that much of an issue to step back into that role if the opportunity presented itself.

Or if it was needed of him.

He'd have to do some reading to refresh his memory or learn something new, but that was already more or less how he liked spending his time.

"I fail to see how that would be of any use to you."

He tilted his head, "... Though I'd guess I'm about to find out."

"That means you have experience in politics," Thrawn stated. "An area that I am sadly inept in."

He never understood how Thrass was so good at politics, or how he kept all those family alliances and rivalries sorted out without needing a chart. Perhaps it was because Thrawn tended to have more faith in people that he was so bad at politics, or his mind simply didn't work that way.

"I need an ally. More than that, I need someone who won't turn on me for their own gain. What I am offering is a partnership of sorts."

"I've not poked about its finer intricacies in quite some time and even if I had, my understanding would be limited to regional politics," Astarion mused, his brow furrowing slightly as he pondered. The ideas of a normal job and a normal life hadn't really entered his mind for quite some time.

The time lived as a free man that he could recall clearly was measured in weeks and not years, after all.

"Though I am brilliant," A pause, before he followed it up, "And beautiful."

Skating by on looks was as much intrinsic to politics as anything else, Astarion believed. Being a massive liar also helped though that was a thought he decided to keep to himself given that he was fairly certain that Thrawn's ineptitude in politics might have something to do with both not being much of a liar and not assuming that politicians would bend the truth for their own gain.

Of course that was only an assumption on his part given how straight-forward he'd seemed on their first meeting. Politicians hated that.

"If you need an ally I'm sure there are about a hundred patriars and local politicians and current magistrates who have more of a horse in the race than I-" He gave a little gesture, not quite dismissive, but something close, before he pressed that hand to his chest- long fingers splaying elegantly over where his shirt was slightly open to draw Thrawn's gaze down to his collarbone, "So I suppose my question is why me? If this is some sort of slight to call me cheap because I'm a few hundred years out of date, then I have to say that I'm hurt by the insinuation, darling."

And immodest, though Thrawn didn't say that part out loud.

Thrawn ran a gloved hand over the rim of his wine glass idly as he regarded Astarion. "Why you, indeed?"

There were plenty of politicians in the city, such as the Duke, but he had duties to Baldur's Gate. And apparently many of the local politicians had thrown their lot in with that Lord Gortash fellow, who had turned out to be a leader of the cult, so Thrawn wasn't about to trust them.

"Because I can give you things that I cannot give them. Protection, the finer things, and I am very good at keeping secrets." He sipped more of his wine. "And I must admit that I am rather fond of you. Even if we have only known each other in a sort time, you fascinate me."

"I suppose I'm not opposed to the idea."

Protection was nice. And Astarion thought he deserved some finer things after the two centuries of pure shit he'd experienced. He hummed and picked up his glass of wine, idly swirling it about before taking a sip. It was quite a nice wine, unlike the swill he had gotten used to on the road- though the swill was pleasant in its own way. Something about the company that had surrounded him at the time perhaps.

Nothing to ponder now.

He tilted his head, "I'll take your interest in taking me under your wing as your Empire being interested in staying."

Thrawn was from the stars somewhere. There had to be plenty of politicians out there on other worlds and planes of existence.

"Which also means dealing with Imperial politics, I'm sure."

Not just Imperial law, but also getting to know the inner workings of other peoples and places. Astarion couldn't remember why he had chosen to become a magistrate all those years ago. Was it a natural place to end up due to some previous connection of his family? Or had he had some sort of special interest in law? He had to have been educated in it. Gone to school somewhere. He could no more remember any of that than he could remember the original color of his eyes though.

"You do understand that I'd be rather limited in any public appearances I'd make? I've been recently confined to something of a... Nocturnal schedule, I'm afraid."

"Yes, the Empire has found reason to stay." Part of it was Palpatine's interest in expanding his Empire, even if this world was practically within the Unknown Region. But then there were other things, such as the gold coins. Opening up trade, if nothing else, was of interest to the Empire.

"Have you?" Yet Astarion had walked around in the daylight just fine the first time they had met, quite contradictory to the artwork all saying that vampires couldn't stand the sun. Clearly there had been something about Astarion that had protected him. Yet that protection was now gone. Thrawn was going to have questions about that, once he and Astarion could come to an agreement.

"That won't be a problem, for such conditions can be accommodated for." He leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Do you know why it took me so long to figure it out? Because your kind seem to not exist outside of this world."

"How lucky we are that our unwashed primitive masses are seen fit to be added to whatever these other worlds are out there in this Empire, then."

Astarion could imagine their unrest already. All the nobles quaking in their boots, worried about what this meant for them and their fortunes. Drow down in the Underdark plotting already. The rich squirreling away their valuables to buy favors once that otherworldly presence became comfortable in their midst.

More than a politician, Astarion thought that what Thrawn needed was a representative from this world. Someone who could slither into the social scene beyond the stars to both have a finger on the pulse of the political scene there while also knowing the intricacies of Faerûn. An ambassador more so than a magistrate.

A voice for the people.

Astarion was of the opinion that much like his appearance, his voice was beautiful. But how would Faerûn feel about someone unknown- him- speaking on their behalf if he voiced that particular thought? The civilians would probably not even raise an eyebrow. The masses rarely got to have a voice, after all. That was just the way of things.

The rich and powerful though.

They'd certainly have thoughts and words about it.

His brows raised slightly as Thrawn leaned in then, looking a tad curious. So vampires were only a thing on Faerûn- or at least, it seemed to be that way. That was interesting.

"Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere a bit more private. There are a few conditions that need to be accommodated for, after all."

Thrawn watched Astarion closely, then smiled slightly as the vampire spoke. He wasn't giving a hard no, so there was promise. "Of course."

He pulled out a few coins and put them on the table to tip their server, then downed the rest of his wine, unbothered by the alcohol burn. Astarion was clearly considering his offer, and that was promising. Thrawn wasn't much of a politician, but he fancied that he was good at negotiations, or at least telling what others needed or wanted.

He was offering Astarion a job and to be around those who didn't even know what a vampire was. A position he didn't have to worry about clerics or paladins going after him.

Making sure he had all his things, he stood. "Did you have a place in mind or shall we go somewhere of my choosing?"

"Unless you fancy the flimsy walls of the room we used last time, I shall let you choose."

There were other taverns, of course. Better ones in the upper city. And there were a few places where Astarion stayed when the sun began to rise where they could be sure they'd have some privacy. But Astarion wasn't keen on letting Thrawn know where he spent the days hiding away from the light just yet.

He already had enough of a fun time with ensuring that no one here saw him sneaking off to the Elfsong's basement in the hours just before sunrise.

Gathering his own belongings then, he motioned another waitress over and handed over some coins, "A few bottles of wine to bring along, please."

"You got it," The waitress said, heading off to get a few bottles for him and returning quickly with a couple in a paper bag to hand over. Astarion's relationship with this waitress seemed a lot more impersonal, but given how quick she'd been to fetch those bottles it was obvious she knew him well enough to know his preferences when it came to wine.

Slipping the book he had been reading into that same bag, Astarion nodded for the other man to lead on, "Shall we?"

"Very well, then." Ironic that just talking with Astarion was something he wanted overheard less than sex.

Waiting for Astarion to gather his things and get his wine, Thrawn waved him along, looking like just another elf and drow going on their way. Some of the patrons gave them a wide berth, possibly not wanting to bump into a drow and get on his bad side. Thrawn had his armor styled after Lolth-sworn drow, so that others would give him some space and not accost him. He had even bought a mace, though he also had his blaster hidden on his person.

He led Astarion through the lower city, past Sorcerous Sundries, near the docks. Eventually, they came upon an abandoned house, one that had been foreclosed a while back and was currently unoccupied. The houses next to it were similarly unoccupied, its owners having fled the city to escape the cult. Thrawn had made sure that no prospective homeowners were going to come by anytime soon, and that nobody was going to start squatting in it. He would be gone before the house could come on the market.

Opening the door, Thrawn turned to Astarion. "You may enter."

The artwork and books said that vampires couldn't enter homes without being invited. Even if the house lacked an owner at the moment, he figured it wouldn't hurt to ask. Pik and Waffle were already inside, waiting for their Primary.

Edited 2023-12-10 05:22 (UTC)

It was strange yet familiar to stalk the streets at night again. Any lantern giving a small pop of color amidst the otherwise gray shades of his darkvision. He didn't linger on those thoughts though- the fact that he'd never again see the city in color with his own eyes. The fact that he missed it already.

Getting used to the darkness again was something he was still working on.

He glanced at Thrawn on occasion as they walked, though his gaze never lingered. Instead looking at the people still out- mostly guards and drunkards and harlots at this hour, people who were already ready to forget all the chaos- and the damage left behind. Some of it was already being repaired, but Astarion could still smell death in the air. Bodies still crushed beneath rubble, blood that had long since cooled and had started to congeal.

His attention was more fully on Thrawn as they came to a halt outside a house and perhaps as Thrawn had expected he stood as rooted to the spot outside the threshold until he was invited inside. If he was surprised that Thrawn's guards were there too, he didn't show it. If their meeting went sour, he had his means of escape, anyway.

"I have to say I'm surprised you found a house that's still whole in this area. Especially one not packed with squatters already."

"This area seems more deserted than most. Possibly because of the mansion on the hill that many claim still smells of death." The locals were superstitious like that, it seemed. "I do not plan to stay long, for I suspect that it will not stay empty forever." Proximity to a death mansion or not, people would start to get desperate.

Closing the door behind them, Thrawn turned to his bodyguards. "Did you get the body on the shuttle?"

"Yes sir," Waffle replied. "It's sealed and awaiting transportation."

"Very good. Wait here and tell me if anyone tries to come in."

As he led Astarion through the front room and into a living area, he passed by a woman carrying a medical bag, who looked up at their arrival. She eyed Astarion curiously.

"At ease, doctor. We will call you if I require your services." The doctor just nodded.

Thrawn led Astarion up the stairs and to a bedroom at the end of the hallway. They would have plenty of privacy and were out of earshot of those downstairs. Thrawn had his commlink on him in case Astarion turned on him.

"Now then, I assume you have questions, or demands."

"... You know, I don't think going around stealing dead bodies is the way to endear the populace to you. The necromancers may start to feel like you're encroaching on their territory."

That was a joke. Baldur's Gate had plenty of graveyards after all. And plenty of shovels.

He followed Thrawn then, brows raising at the woman. He couldn't recognize her outfit or what she was carrying, but her scent carried something familiar. Something medicinal. A healer of some sort perhaps. He eyed her as curiously as she had eyed him as he moved past her, trying to glean information about her purpose here just from visual cues.

All would be revealed in time he supposed.

He entered the bedroom and found a spot to sit down, pulling out a bottle of wine from the paper bag and uncorking it. The label on the bottle read Marsember Ice Wine. He took a swig from it as he pondered how to phrase his question.

"You said my... Condition could be accommodated for. But if you know about vampires, then I assume you also know about our diets...?"

Astarion had gotten somewhat used to the taste of blood from thinking creatures and while he certainly could sustain himself on the blood of animals he really would rather not.

"It was a mind flayer corpse," Thrawn clarified. "My biologists wanted one for study."

As Astarion made himself comfortable, Thrawn set his satchel down on a nearby chair and stood with his hands behind his back, as he often did.

"Yes, I am aware that vampires sustain themselves on blood, and seem to prefer the blood of sentient beings. I am prepared to say that you are a hemophiliac and thus we can acquire blood through donations." Deceptive, yes, and possibly unfair to the crew.

"Alternatively, we find someone who would be willing to have you drink from them." He looked right at Astarion. "Though, my studies showed me that to be bitten by a vampire is to become one yourself."

Thrawn had seen artwork that alluded to vampire spawn, and recalled Astarion's hesitance to bite him. He mostly wanted to see if Astarion would confirm that he was a spawn voluntarily.

"Eugh," Astarion commented, the curl of his lip revealing one of his fangs. He did look positively disgusted though as he thought the only thing the mind flayer corpses were good for was getting tossed into a fire. Apparently Thrawn and his people were of a different opinion though.

"Just so long as donations don't mean glass jars with cold, congealed blood in them. I don't like my blood so ripe that I'd need a fork to eat it."

Humanoid blood would still be preferable if he ever was to consume blood like that, but he did prefer it fresh. And preferably also warm.

Astarion tilted his head then, before holding the bottle of wine out to the other man in silent offering for him to also have a swig of it.

"A single bite is hardly enough to turn someone. You'd need to be drained entirely for that."

"Noted," In other words, he didn't want blood that was old. But he wondered if the cold part was also unappealing to him, because Thrawn had considered keeping blood bags in a fridge for him.

He accepted the wine and took a single swig, before handing it back to the vampire.

"If we have to, we can find someone who can keep a secret and is willing to let you feed off of them, so long as you keep it in moderation." He was including himself in that statement. It would be unfair of him to make such a demand of his crew.

"I am capable of restraint," Astarion said, ever so slightly flippant, even if he knew it was a lot to ask. Though there were a few exceptions, no one ever really wanted to feel their lifeblood slip out of them. Neither person nor animal.

"If I am to be your... Special politician friend as it were, I imagine I'd also need- teachers. Tutors."

That was a strange thing to say at his age. But it was true. If he was to play this role, then he would need to know more than just local politics and power-plays. He'd need to understand the complexities of how society beyond the stars worked, so he could learn to take advantage of that system.

"Though I have to say, I think you want an ambassador more than you want a magistrate, darling. Someone who can represent Faerûn on a larger stage."

He smiled. It was almost playful.

"And I do have the hair for that role. And I love to lie to people."

He'd do well, he though, with a bit of guidance. And it would be far easier to get into any inner circles if they thought him a representative of his people rather than a politician with his own agenda.

"I can easily arrange for some tutoring. I know people who can teach you about Imperial politics, and show you how to gather information yourself." Namely through the holonet. Astarion had gotten the hang of using a datapad once he'd been shown how, so Thrawn had confidence that Astarion could learn to use the holonet.

"An ambassador, you say? Yes, I dare say that you could. If the Empire is to have relations with this world, then it needs a representative. If you are volunteering, then I see no reason to turn you away."

Astarion was clever, sneaky, and had a wicked tongue on him. Perhaps he was just what Faerûn needed within the Empire.

"First things first, though. Would you still be willing to consent to be examined?"

The other continents would probably need representatives too, Astarion thought, though it wasn't something he was going to spend a long time pondering. Being the ambassador for Faerûn would give him an angle onto a larger scene, which meant security and also great rewards. Greater even than he had initially hoped when he first slept with the alien.

He imagined there were plenty of people out there who were suckers for a pretty face and he could certainly work with that.

And easily charmed and lied to, too.

Astarion, of course, said nothing of the sort given that he had to keep at least some air of mystery. And also a few cards up his sleeve.

"That would be useful. Not even country bumpkins want to be country bumpkins, so the quicker I can get up to speed, the more effective I'll be as both your special friend, and everyone else's."

Meaning that he'd play his hand for all it was worth. For himself and for Thrawn since he was the one giving him the opportunity in the first place. It should serve both of them and Toril- but more specifically Faerûn- well.

"And I suppose. If I must."

The thought of an examination didn't exactly fill him with glee, but he supposed he could just be happy that they wanted him as close to alive as it was possible for a vampire to be. And not taken back to be opened up like the mind flayer corpses.

"Just be careful about anything sharp and pointy. I can assure you that sticking your cock in a pile of ashes is a lot less pleasurable than sticking it in my body. And would probably make you some sort of degenerate."

That seemed to mostly be a jest- though Astarion did assume that Thrawn would eventually want to sleep with him again.

"I'm certain that we can get you well-informed by that time." If he had to, he might even have Eli show Astarion a thing or two. The man was more savvy than Thrawn when it came to these things, and without him, Thrawn wouldn't have made it to Admiral as quickly as he did.

"Fear not, wooden stakes are only used by gardeners in most worlds." He pulled out his commlink. "We're ready for you, doctor."

A few minutes later, the woman from downstairs entered the room, setting down her bag and putting on gloves. She got out a few tools, and her datapad, before approaching Astarion. "Hold still, please."

Thrawn stood by and watched as the doctor lifted the corner of Astarion's lip to look at his left fang, and then did the same to the right fang, taking notes on her datapad. She then coaxed his mouth open to gaze at his other teeth, followed by taking a swab of his cheek for DNA cataloguing. Taking a sample of saliva from Astarion, she put it through a handheld scanner and looked at the results on her datapad.

"Interesting. His saliva has an anticoagulant," She said. "And some kind of numbing agent."

"Fascinating," Thrawn stated, hand going to his chin.

The doctor then brought out a small plastic device, with a hole big enough for a finger. "I'd like to take a blood sample," She said to Astarion.

Edited 2023-12-11 16:29 (UTC)

Astarion watched the doctor with interest as she entered, curious about the tools and the strange slate that seemed like a common tool where they were from if Thrawn also having one was anything to go by.

He held still as was asked of him and opened his mouth when she coaxed him to do so. It was the first time in his very long life that someone was interested in his spit of all things, but he supposed that all things were of interest when their worlds apparently did not have vampires like himself.

Astarion's gaze through all of it was on her, of course, his gaze somewhat intense- though that was typical for most vampires, really.

He finally glanced away when she brought out the small device, tilting his head.

"I don't think you'll be able to get a sample of my blood with that, darling."

He slipped a knife out from his sleeve- handling it in a most unthreatening way so that it wouldn't be interpreted as an attack- and ran the knife over his palm. Blood did well up and pour from the wound but it was more akin to the way liquid might leak from a container as compared to blood seeping from the wounds of a living creature. It looked unnatural. Wrong, almost.

He set the knife down, and then wiped a finger across where he'd cut himself to better show that the cut itself had already closed- leaving a thin pale line across his palm that was quickly fading too.

"See?"

The doctor tensed slightly when he brought out the knife, though quickly relaxed as he took a non-threatening stance with it, and both she and Thrawn watched curiously as Astarion slit his own palm, watching the blood.

"Interesting," Thrawn mused, hand still on his chin, as he often did when thinking.

So, vampires had a rapid healing factor, but their blood didn't behave the way a living being's did. That lined up with Thrawn's research about vampires being part of the living dead. That Astarion still got erections, perhaps it had something to do with their biology, having a sort of faux-circulatory system so that they could seduce targets. Or it had something to do with the magic that seemed to exist within every living thing on this world.

"I'm going to want to do a more in-depth exam later, in my lab," The doctor stated. "For now, perhaps you could... pour some blood into this?" She held out a small vial, holding it beneath Astarion's hand.

"So long as it doesn't end in me getting hurt, you can examine me as closely as you'd like," Astarion said, that tone of his bordering on sultry- further reinforced by the slight smile on his face.

Bringing the knife back to his hand, he pressed it down against his skin hard enough to break it so that he would start bleeding again and held his hand in a way that would make the blood pour into the vial- pulling the knife away once the vial was suitably filled so the small wound could close back up.

Setting the knife down, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket so that he could clean off the blood- though he'd need soap and water to do so properly. It was still better than just leaving his hand wet and sticky with it though.

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