Taking a sharp left, Astarion continued wandering down the sidewalk, away from the apartment building towards…he wasn't sure. But he was willing to find out. The icy rain made navigating slightly less convenient, but he'd dealt with worse. Hell, not running from gnolls, bloodthirsty drow, rabid animals, or foes in general was a nice change of pace.

Eventually, he wanted to find a place to stay. There had to be some sort of inn or tavern here. He'd also need supplies. Both of which probably required money, which he had some, but the currency he carried wasn't likely to be the same in this new world. And who knew how much he needed?

In Faerun, it sometimes cost an arm and a leg to stay for a few nights per person in the cities. And he wasn't carrying much on him.

Well, shit.

It was a good thing stealing and surviving was a forte for the pale, morally dubious elf. Perhaps this city was close to the wilderness, like Rivington. There, he might be able to seek out prey amongst nature. With all these people, no matter how thirsty Astarion grew, he didn't want to risk draining someone out in the open. It was cruel - so many people wandered so closely to him, but he couldn't sneak any nips or bites on any of them.

Unsure of how law enforcement here worked, he doubted it wasn't less sophisticated than any typical place in Faerun. This place had more things and mechanical inventions than he could imagine. He didn't have the tools or intel to escape prison or guards. And, if there weren't physical guards standing around, the social order here must be strong enough to not warrant that kind of presence.

I'm not stupid. I need to tread carefully here, Astarion thought to himself purposefully. While he knew he was powerful, this wasn't the time to show off or explicitly make a fool of himself.

Or, he could lure someone to a dark place in the city, and feed on them. At the thought, a familiar tug in his gut and tightening of his throat urged him to make a decision. His fatigue only worsened his thirst, and he hadn't consumed anything for a week before his trouble with Gale and the others.

Astarion looked around for a direction that looked suitable. He could theoretically kill someone if there were enough people around, as this had the same effect as using darkness. This seemed like a more probably option, given how many people were just walking about.

Searching, he listened, trying to catch any bits of information as he wandered away from the apartment building. He recalled looking out the window, and from the distance, he saw water. People usually hung around water. If there was a beach, that was actually a great place to find someone, lure them into tall grass, lay down, and consume every drop of blood like an afternoond delicacy.

Though the weather didn't scream 'beach', there were always humans at beaches. If there were less, even better. He wouldn't be seen.

Smiling to himself, Astarion glanced at the apartment, and walked towards the water, hoping the journey wouldn't exhaust h-

*HOOOONK!* Astarion jumped. A large metal mechanical device came to a screeching halt to he left, and someone stuck their head out of it, shouting, "Get off the road, dumbass!"

Confused, Astarion looked around.

"Yeah, you, shithead! MOVE." The driver said. He started to go around Astarion's stunned figure, but the vampire moved to the other side of the road, scoffing.

"Rude." The elf snarled and continued. When he came to another crosswalk, he stopped next to a man, looking down at a box in his hand with a light glowing from it, looking for more of the mechanical vehicles. There were too many. Across the road, another light caught Astarion's red gaze. It was a red hand icon.

Before he could ponder what it meant, it turned into a human that looked like it was frozen mid-walk. The man next to him began walking, without looking up from his handheld device. Astarion watched cars stop as people from the other side also began walking across the road.

Gingerly stepping out, the pale vampire followed suit, eyeing the people in the cars curiously. Some of them weren't looking up. Others were looking at him. Staring.

For a moment, Astarion considered baring his fangs at them. Instead, he ran into someone.

"Oof. Watch where you're going, asshole." A larger man holding something Astarion guessed helped prevent rain from falling on them.

"Maybe it's you that should be paying attention." Astarion sneered. The man made a disgusted face, but continued past the elf, who finally made it to the other end of the road.

He was beginning to see why Blue lived so far above, and away in solitary from the ground. It was dirty, and humans here seemed oblivious yet prideful of wherever they were drifting to. Did everyone live here? Were they all going home? What were so many people doing out in this weather?

By the time Astarion made it to where he could see the water, he was thoroughly soaked, more exhausted, and thirsty. On the bright side, he had walked only in a straight line from the apartments, so he knew he could turn around and hunt down Blue if need be. Preferably, he didn't want to. But doing things he didn't want to was something he might have to get used to here.

Looking up, he read a large neon sign: 'Pike's Place'.It stuck out like a sore thumb against the grey skies.

Across, which looked more like the cobblestone roads he was accustomed to seeing, there were somehow more people and sounds here than anywhere else he'd passed by. Was there some sort of event? Booths of fruit, items, and food were attracting people standing around, in lines and clusters. A man was playing the guitar nearby, or at least, some Seattle-version of a guitar.

The crowds were so large that they were blocking the metal vehicles from entering or exiting. Boisterous music was blaring from several different places, the same rhythmic booming he'd heard from Blue's apartment, but much closer.

Honking could be heard far away. Weaving through the crowd, Astarion began exploring what he could only guess was a marketplace. This was a great area to seek out his prey - all he had to do was charm someone, lead them behind a building, feed, and then dump them in the dirt. Momentarily, he pictured doing that to Blue. But even in his insatiable thirst and fatigue, the idea didn't appeal to him. Besides, she was so far away now. And here, he could feed on more than one person.

The vampire stealthily, selectively scouted out the area, trying to ignore the dense smells assaulting his nose. Scents of all manner of cooked and raw food only made him focus on people's blood, trying to avoid distractions. In some ways, he saw the appeal. There were diverse goods and various forms of entertainment, some of which hurt his ears, so he avoided those areas. A busy place that reminded him of Wyrms crossing, where he'd take victims to Cazador.

He shook his head. No more of that. Right now, he was taking care of himself, not Cazador.

Finally, after discovering some stairs and a route to what looked like an abandoned corner behind an old bookstore, he grinned.

"Right. Now, to find my prey." Astarion muttered to himself. He didn't have to look far. Down the walkway, he spotted a woman about Blue's age with bright red hair, a backpack, baseball cap, and on the same device he kept seeing everyone use. She was smiling at it, leaning against the wall. Alone.

Without more consideration, Astarion ran a hand through his wet hair, straightened his shirt, and confidently approached her. The girl's head snapped up to look at him, her eyes focusing on his ears as her eyes lit up, "Oh wow. Those ears look great." Her height reminded him of Blue's height. The neck was so perfectly accessible. With just barely a bow, it would take few seconds to drain this woman right here, but he caught others walking past them, looking at their handheld devices.

No. He should hide it. Just for a little longer. Else, he risked exposing his nature.

Astarion smiled, but not too wide to not reveal his fangs. He leaned against the wall on his arm, casually, unthreatening, and responded, "Oh, thank you. You know, I find your hair of a similar impressive aesthetic."

She giggled, placing her hand on her mouth. Putting away her phone, Astarion asked, "What are you doing out in this horrid, freezing weather? Surely, you must be cold?"

The girl replied, "No, I'm like a vampire; the Seattle nightlife has turned me into a cold-enduring Pacific northwesterner. You the same? You're wearing quite the not-cold-friendly costume."

Trying to hide his confusion at almost every word, Astarion answered, "Aha, no. This is not a costume, surely. And trust me, if you were a vampire, you could endure much worse than a little rain."

The girl gave him a funny look but was unsuspecting. Instead, she winked at him and said, "If you say so. What brings you to Pike's Place then? Doing some shopping?"

Astarion stepped closer, and tilted his head, locking his gaze on her hazel eyes. "If you must know, I'm not actually from here. I was exploring the city and caught you in the corner of my eye. You're quite distracting, even from a distance, to a stranger."

Keep going. You're close.

The woman blushed and straightened her baseball cap. "Well, that's…nice of, um, you to say…what's your name? Mine's Ashley."

"Astarion." He held out his hand to shake, and the woman shook it. She had a fancy looking ring on her hand. It looked expensive.

Astarion lingered, holding her hand in his. She paused and looked at him, but before she could say anything, he commented, "My, that is almost as beautiful as you." He fingered the ring softly, just for a few moments, giving her hand a light squeeze. Then, he gently let it go. She slowly pulled away and looked up at him, lost in his gaze. He smiled at her. She had a brightness behind her eyes, something animals lacked.

"Um, heh, thanks. You're quite attractive yourself." The woman said, playing with her hair. Astarion bowed, responding, "Please, do not compare yourself to those who cannot match even the slightest essence of what others can only dream of, lest luck grants them the fleeting opportunity."

Ashley made an exhaling 'wooof' sound, as if trying to breathe properly. But she was grinning, nervously playing with her hair, and adjusting her hat many times despite there being no rain on the lower levels. She looked right up at him, and squeaked, "You're such a nice person. How are you all alone down here?"

Despite the triggering memories of being alone in places that could be described as, "down here", Astarion countered, "Well, I'm not anymore. Not with you. I was hoping you'd join me. I was just over by that bookstore, and found something quite interesting." He held out his hand and kept his gaze on her.

"Well, my boyfriend is getting some food," she looked around somewhat worriedly, but affirmed, "But I can join you for a second." She smiled and took his hand. Astarion purred, "Excellent. Don't worry, this won't take long. This way, darling." He heard Ashley's heart race.

He wondered if his ability to charm people still worked here. The warm blood pulsing through her nearly made his own skip a beat in anticipated thirst. They were feet away from the bookstore and hidden corner. He could practically throw her there.

"So, Astarion, what do you do-"

"ASHLEY. What are you doing?" A man as tall as Astarion, holding a large brown bag came jogging up to an embarrassed Ashley and Astarion.

It took the whole of his vampiric being to focus on hiding his scowl and resist a deep, swelling temptation to kill them both right then and there, in a flash. He was so close. And if he'd stole that ring, he could sell it, maybe find a place to stay, which would have been easier to lure someone back to.

Humans and their companions were so annoying.

"Ashley, who is this guy? Why the fuck were you holding his hand?" The man growled, looking from a shrinking Ashley and to Astarion, who was glaring right back at the man, red eyes shimmering.

Astarion let Ashley's hand fall. Maybe he could salvage this, get this idiot to storm off while he drained every last bit of tantalizing blood from her, then do the same to him, a fate befitting a stupid couple. Then, he'd be able to flee this dirty, wet, weird-smelling-

"Nothing. H-he just wanted to show me something." She looked up at the man, pouting and pleading in her eyes. Even Astarion had to admit, it was almost adorable, were it not a gaze from his would-be dinner. It wouldn't have stopped him from ripping her throat out.

The man rolled his eyes and scowled at her, and gestured to Astarion as he glowered, "What the hell are you talking about? There's nothing back there. Do you know this dude?" The man, who had dark hair underneath a backward cap, a jacket, and tight-looking jeans turned to Astarion.

Astarion smelled something rank in the man's blood as if he'd been dipped in oil or dirty water. It was a stark contrast to Ashley's. This typically meant that his prey consumed many different self-destructive substances. He wasn't sure which ones in this world he drank or ate, but it made Astarion lean back slightly as he spat, "Yes, she does. I'm Astarion, her newfound friend who surely has healthier habits than you do."

Ashley's eyes widened. The man's face scrunched up as if he were smelling an onion. Ashley tried to protest and step between them, but the man set the bag down, pushed her aside and said, "Watch it, you pointy-eared freak. That's my girl. Mine. Keep your elfy hands and fake-ass eyes off her. Ashley, we're leaving."

Rage rippled through Astarion, his chest, and teeth so tight, he thought he might crush his fangs. Enough. He could feel the tadpole squirming in his mind again, ready to strike with him. He could obliterate these humans in this city.

"Elfy? Freak? How dare you. Do you know what I could do to you, right now? Would you like to see how 'fake' I am? What a 'freak' is made of to a pathetic human like you?" Astarion shrieked. The dark energy from both his physical race and newfound illithid powers brewed something inside him that felt ready to burst and blow a hole where he stood.

People began looking at them, but he was done pretending, and hiding. He was tired. Thirsty. Hell, he might have been hungry too. "Seattle" be damned, if whatever forces wanted to try and stop him, they could certainly try. This new world was about to go to hell, and Astarion would drag it there with his own two hands.

It was time to feed.

I washed the two coffee mugs in the sink and set them on the counter rack to dry. I still felt a little achey from the hangover, but I always recovered quickly. The benefits of being young came in handy.

I thought about my time with the vampire. He explained that with his freedom (from something called an illithid), he wasn't restrained by common vampiric mechanics, something I had to refrain from laughing about (I mean, someone as intriguing as him could still be killed with a piece of wood? Come on. Not that I was thinking about killing him.). He could enter people's homes and be in the sun. But he didn't have a reflection, still needed blood, and didn't eat food.

The enhanced physical traits, such as speed, strength, and smell interested me the most. What was it like, housing that kind of power in a world where humans had to spend years doing monotonous things to gain that kind of advantage? I suppose I wouldn't find out.

I felt a twinge of sadness. He was very attractive, but underneath the perfect jawline and golden voice of literal sex, I wasn't stupid enough to not detect something sinister about him. The charm, voice, and even the way he moved was to lure. To attract.

Well, if he happened to 'lure' me again, I guess I at least knew it was an artificial condition. Why let it stop me next time? I mean, I was drunk and able to resist all that. He must have liked me enough not to kill me. But was that an exception given he was dropped here from some other place?

I needed fresh air. I needed to forget this and him.

Sarge looked up at me, tail wagging. I'd left the water running while thinking. Shutting it off, I went back upstairs to take a shower, dog paws tapping the hard floors behind me.

After drying off, I checked my phone. Skipping past the work notifications, Jesse and Harley asked if I was okay. I responded that I was.

Everyone else was still a little hungover, but I scrolled down at Alex's new message, which filled me with familiar work-related dread:

Alex: The work halloween party is in two weeks. Anyone got their ornament gift already? I forgot. XD

Work parties. My nemesis. The dance of networking, charming, but being professional to get what I want, which was Augustine's attention for more than two seconds usually ended up in me giving up early for pizza at home while I hated myself for the rest of the night.

Augustine was the sequence director of our project and was still looking for someone to replace her. I worked as lower sequence writer, which was above most other writers, but I didn't have control of much of the story in our project. Her job was my only desire since I joined the company, and she didn't even know I existed. But speaking to her was like walking through a warzone of thorns and mines.

Jesse: Yep. Waiting on Amazon.

Harley: fuck. Ugh, who decided the theme

Alex: aug-wagaustine

Jesse: pretty sure she's just baiting an event so she can remind everyone she's still looking for a new seq. Director and brag about the power she has

Harley: facts

Alex: Maybe but it's free food so who cares

Harley: Also facts

Jesse: Just saying. Blue, u still going?

I forgot about it, but recalling my purchase last month that I'd been procrastinating, I responded: yes. Will have to run to Pike's Place to pick up my order from Greyson

Jesse: My god, you order all your gifts from that guy

Greyson was a high school friend who ran a trinket shop in Pike's Place on the lower floors. His girlfriend, Stacey, worked at a restaurant above as the head chef. He'd been my lifesaver for gifts for as long as I can remember.

During the worst of my depressive states, he was the reason I got out once in a while, even if it was due to his refusal to deliver anything I ordered. Because of him, I also knew how to navigate Pike's Place after having to find him.

Blue: ya. He's my amazon. So suck it

With a click, I shut off my phone and slipped it into my back pocket. A short drive to Pike's Place wouldn't hurt. I knew by now where to park, so I didn't have to get soaked. And I didn't feel like walking nearly two miles there in this weather.

An image of a soaked Astarion flashed in my mind, his open shirt seeming way too thin for the Seattle fall and winter. Shaking my head, I pulled on a jacket, jeans, and rainproof boots, then grabbed my backpack. He was gone. I was never seeing him again.

"Come on Sarge. Field trip to Greyson's Box." Sarge licked my hand in response.

"Right. Treats. In case you try to lick ice cream off the concrete again." Using the stool in the kitchen, I reached for the treat jar. Pocketing some in a dog treat bag, I shoved it in my large jacket pocket.

Leashing Sarge, I locked my apartment door and headed for the parking garage.