Inbox

[artistinexile]

You have reached the inbox of the former Grand Admiral Thrawn of the Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera and the Seventh Fleet, also formerly known as Senior Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo of the Springhawk.

I will return your message promptly.

[The message repeats in six different languages]

Comments

Re: Audio

[artistinexile]

Interesting.

What was his reaction? Negative, I imagine, but did he express concern for you or himself, or anger?

Re: Audio

[todayiwas]

Concern only.

I'm unwilling to answer anything else on him, however, unless you can adequately link it to this work.

Re: Audio

[artistinexile]

My apologies. As it was his inmate who killed me in retaliation, I had wondered how sacrosanct he held the lives of others.

But you are correct; that has no bearing on this conversation.

By what weapon or method did you injure yourself? And how did you come to be in the Enclosure? It was my understanding that it could not generate weapons that would leave lasting damage.

Cw: just...so much self harm mentions

[todayiwas]

Ah yes, it was Astarion who told me, actually. He recently killed you, didn't he?

That was how I knew to ask you.

Well, I had a knife of my own I brought in, as well as a means to create fire. I also was curious and bit into my flesh to see if I could bite deeper than an Enclosure creature.

Re: Cw: just...so much self harm mentions

[artistinexile]

Thank you for confirming my suspicions.

And you discovered that weapons brought into the Enclosure could be used to harm, but weapons summoned inside the Enclosure would likely lead to disabling of the program. Is that accurate?

[todayiwas]

Not quite. I was able to injure myself severely with the knife, but not enough to cause death or near it. Even when pushed far into my chest, I was left with only the sort of wound that would require stitches.

When I used the knife I brought in, that's when I suspect I punctured a lung and began to bleed.

Fire created and sustained by Enclosure materials only burned the skin, but fire created and maintained by my own materials went very deep. Interestingly, fire created by me but maintained by Enclosure materials still behaved as Enclosure-made.

The creature that bit only punctured the skin but did not tear. I could tear my flesh.

And, of course, any Enclosure created space would not harm. Long falls and spikes, and closing walls.

It would warp reality, but it would not change the setting or revert to its original space.

[artistinexile]

You do yourself a disservice, Mademoiselle Florbelle. Your tests were decidedly conclusive.

[todayiwas]

Merci, Thrawn. That is high praise indeed.

Now, tell me of your experience with the Death Toll.

[artistinexile]

I am attaching a file to this message to indicate my full findings on the death toll. Please acknowledge when you receive it.

The basic summary of the death toll is that it is a stasis holder: no rot or rigor mortis sets in, no decay or otherwise organic depletion occurs, indicating that cell death is nonexistent- the Admiral simply halts the process, or the ship’s mechanics do, until such time as the warden responsible can call for a resurrection. I believe this may be for a few reasons: to get the body somewhere safe to prevent shock once they revive, to prevent multiple attacks on the same person, and to secure the area.

The death toll “timer” begins at approximately the moment the resurrection occurs and continues for the next seven standard days, the pain and soreness diminishing gradually over time. The pain of the site is primarily focused on the point or points of injury but overall there is a general ache as one’s body knits itself back together. Traditional medicine may ease the pain but I suspect the general weakness and fatigue are not symptoms that can be fixed apart from rest and potentially muscle relaxers.

I may ask if Doctor Hilbert keeps bacta on inventory, as that would circumvent your need for stitches.

[todayiwas]

Received, thank you. I may need your assistance, though. This is beyond my time.

What is bacta?

[artistinexile]

It would please me to offer it.

A bacterial mixture that when appropriately used, will heal wounds, burns, abrasions, nerve damage, hyper and hypothermia, and a myriad of other afflictions. It cannot regrow limbs but it can assist with arthritic conditions and restore feeling and movement in previously limited extremities.

As a matter of standard care, it’s prohibitively expensive, reserved for those with money, status, or severe conditions, but I imagine cost is no object here.

[todayiwas]

No, I don't imagine it is. Perhaps if you can obtain a sample, that would be very helpful.

I would like to know if all death is the same.

[artistinexile]

I shall. It would certainly make your experiments more time-effective.

[Imagine not having to wait around for your cuts to heal like some pleb, Justine!]

To what end?

[todayiwas]

I like having my own data. I would also like to poll those who have experienced it. You have focused on the physical aspects, but I would also like insight on the mental and...moral.

[artistinexile]

Murkier territories. I doubt you'll find sufficient answers to the second without giving a great deal of thought into personal, professional, and cultural expectations of anyone who has ever died here.

I can tell you that morally, I struck first and expected a blow in return, which I was dealt. The matter is now settled between us and we will be at tentative peace. I was, in truth, more disappointed in those wardens who commented on Astarion's post about how they were obligated by their station not to congratulate him, which of course is a commendation all on its own. But it was good to know who not to offer trust in the future.

As to the first, I cannot help you. Even among my own people, I'm considered an anomaly.

[todayiwas]

I don't mind that. I am an anomaly of my own. However, I think there is merit in determining just where the moralities lie here, and I don't mind getting my hands dirty to dig properly into this topic. I'd like to see the split.

And honestly, this is the most enjoyment I've gained from an inquiry in quite some time!

Your input has been more than valuable, however, and if there is anything you would like to continue on purely the physical side, I would be more than happy to offer my assistance. I am very glad to have met you, Thrawn.

And no, you should not trust Monsieur Astarion. I quite enjoy him myself, but I think you have made a very poor impression indeed, even if the debt is settled.

[artistinexile]

Astarion knows his limitations and stayed within the boundary of mutual hostility: he is an adversary I can respect, one whom I wounded first. Our battle is over unless or until he wishes to re-engage.

I was speaking about Rawne, Song Zichen, and doubtless a few others who were clever enough to have kept their correspondence private but congratulated him nonetheless. Those are the more dangerous ones to watch.


You seem to have more of an understanding of people here than I likely ever will. I'm pleased you thought to reach out.

[todayiwas]

Ah! My mistake. I misunderstood.

That, about the wardens, is also the sort of information I wish to expand on.

When can you show me how to access your report?

[artistinexile]

Whenever you would like.

[todayiwas]

I have time now. Where shall I meet you?

[artistinexile]

My cabin has the necessary equipment. Level Eight, Cabin Eight.

[todayiwas]

Of course.

[And she will knock on his door a few moments later, stepping away and waiting for him to answer. She's in more work-appropriate attire for this visit, no corset under her plain, blue dress, an apron draped over the front and tied behind her.

[artistinexile]

[Thrawn opens the door himself, sliding it open to reveal a very alien sort of man. Thrawn is tall, thin, blue-skinned, and with red glowing eyes. His expression is one of muted curiosity, as he bows slightly at the waist in greeting, voice soft and low but distinct, curling around words with care. He's been misinterpreted plenty of times before]

Madamoiselle Florbelle. I am Mitth'raw'nuruodo. Enter and be welcome here.

[todayiwas]

[He really is blue! Fortunately, she is a master of schooling her face, so the surprise is a brief one.

She has an ear for words, but even that is a little beyond her at first speak. She gives him a curtsy instead and walks in.]

A pleasure.

[She holds out her communicator to him as she walks by.]

Show me, please.

[artistinexile]

[He takes the communicator and sets it on his desk. A hologram appears; a mirror image of what's already on Justine's screen. Thrawn directs a hand, pointing out each subsequent button]

Imagine a conventional stack of flimsis, or papers. You are researching a topic, and you wish to file these appropriately. In worlds and times before computers, typically you would use a filing system; a set of drawers with tabs, perhaps a category section or shorthand script to find what you're looking for, quickly.

Now imagine that all of your papers, all of your files and notes can fit here, in this device. This - [Thrawn taps the screen, making it all disappear] - is why this screen is conventionally called either a home, or desktop. As my desk here could have held papers at one time, this holds all of our shared research.

Now if I wished to create a new file - say, on our shared topic of death tolls - I would create a new folder, and label it as Death Tolls, or Death Toll Information. You may rename it if you wish.

[Thrawn goes slow, looking to Justine to make sure she's following as he explains]

You can see I've sent you the files I had as Astarion_death_toll and Thrawn_death_toll. We can move this file into our newly created folder by a motion called a 'click and drag', which I shall now demonstrate.

Opening the file itself is conducted in one of two ways. You may either click twice in rapid succession, or click while holding and selecting the option to open the file.

[As he does so, the text file Thrawn sent opens up in holo format. It details, painstakingly, everything Thrawn was able to determine, from body temperature to time of death-time of resurrection, to a pain scale he manufactured to show the rate of depreciation over time.]