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overplannedbutunnamednpc · 2 years

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iris 1. Things you said before you knew any better, 4. Things you said instead of “I love you”, 14. Things you said because you thought they’d be your last chance to say them, zier 7. Things you said when you thought no one else was around, 12. Things you said that got interrupted, your choice 8. Things you said you immediately regretted, 30. Things you said when you should have been quiet, 32. Things you said that you wouldn’t have if it were dark out

Iris:

1. Things you said before you knew any better

(sophia knows this but idk if anyone else does - iris was a little bit stuck up at first! she meant well, but here’s a scene of her getting herself out of it some.)

“You’ll have to escort me, of course,” Iris says, not looking up from her notes. She’s gotten a bit better at multitasking since meeting Cylthia, and she’s at least no longer tuning the woman out accidentally as she tries to figure out the equation for diluting spell components with decaying potency.

Cylthia doesn’t reply immediately, so Iris looks up. “Cylthia?” she prompts.

“I don’t know how,” Cylthia replies, sounding... a bit ashamed, perhaps.

Iris blinks. “Don’t know how to do what?”

“Escort?”

“Oh, it’s easy.” Iris thinks for a second or two, and then realizes that she still hasn’t given Cylthia any direction. “Which... I realize isn’t helpful. You’ve never done this, yes?”

Cylthia shakes her head. Iris can’t stop herself the small sigh, but she knows it’s not Cylthia’s fault that she wasn’t raised with knowledge of the court and what is expected of her. “Well, it won’t be very difficult. You will likely be announced as my consort. Most of the court already knows about you, so you shouldn’t have to do too many introductions. Everything from then on is small talk, finger food, and dancing.”

“See, Iris, my problem is that I don’t know how to do that, either.”

Iris presses her lips together tersely. “Right. I keep forgetting that you - I’m sorry. I’ll try to stop making assumptions.”

Cylthia nods, and there’s a silence that’s more tense than Iris would like it to be. She counts to three without Cylthia continuing the conversation or accepting her apology, so she presses on instead. “...I could,” she tries, “teach you?”

“To dance?”

“Well, the basics, at least. We could definitely get you doing a basic waltz, probably. It’s mostly - here, I’ll show you. I need a break, anyway.”

She pushes herself up, and offers Cylthia her hand. Cylthia takes it, thank Mystra, and Iris leads them both to the part of her office that she’s dubbed the reading nook, nudging the armchair out of the way with her hip so they have a little more room.

“You should take lead, because you’re taller. We don’t have any music, but, I’ll do my best.”

4. Things you said instead of “I love you”

The nursery is beautiful. They’d agreed on yellow as its primary color, with white and peach as its complementary colors, and there had been no expense spared.

The curtains on the large windows are open right now, and Cylthia is sitting on one of the rocking chairs, eyes closed and tail flicking like a sunning, contented cat.

Iris’ hip is leaned against the doorframe, just to watch. She’s thinking. She’s usually thinking.

Right now, she’s thinking about the empty nursery. She’s thinking about when the nursery isn’t empty. They’re trying, some, when Cylthia is in Neilia, but neither of them have been surprised that it hasn’t happened yet. When Cylthia starts to take her retirement seriously, then that’s about the time Iris will start feeling frustrated by the empty nursery.

Empty is an operative word, right now, though. Iris’ eyes light on Cylthia, stretched out and relaxed, and the curl of her horns because she had them, right now, instead of posing as a full elf like she tends to be in front of the greater court.

There’s something about that that makes Iris thrill a bit, something that’s really only amplified by the beautiful nursery and bright, warm afternoon light. Something about the relaxed form of her— her— her Cylthia, only as herself, in the room they’ll fill with their family, one day, and one day soon.

It’s a quick, quiet thing, a realization that settles over her shoulders as if she’s wrapping herself in silk. Her Cylthia. She’s in love.

She makes a sound, an aborted noise that might have been the start of Cylthia’s name, and though she stops herself, it still makes Cylthia startle and sit up.

Cylthia turns to look at her, and Iris smiles at her, her mind racing. She’s in love. It makes all the sense in the world. And, oh, Mystra. She doesn’t know what to do about it. It feels silly. She’ll be having this woman’s baby, and she’s quailing over the idea of telling her she’s in love. Iris will rule a kingdom one day, will be responsible for the destiny of an entire continent, and right now she thinks about telling the woman smiling over at her that she’s in love, and she can’t imagine being so brave.

“I didn’t realize you’d be here,” Cylthia says. “What do you think?”

I think I’m in love with you, Iris doesn’t say. I want my family with you and I want you to want the same. I’m in love with you, and I want to be in love with you. I choose you, and I will keep choosing you.

“It’s beautiful. I’m... excited. And I’m glad to see you.”

14. Things you said because you thought they’d be your last chance to say them

Iris hasn’t even seen the whole thing until her father opens the Gate. It’s not as if she’s going off of blind faith on this one - she’d seen the thing in her city’s sewers, poisoning the water as if it had any right being there - but even if she had been, she’d probably still be in this situation.

The inside of the thing they’re calling the Abeast is dark and somehow larger than Iris thought it would be, even if she knew it’s been chewing on entire, infinitely-large planes like she’s able to get through a large diplomatic dinner with slightly less issue.

It sinks something, deep in her gut. Twists something strange and dark that longs, viciously, for more protection than the robe she’s wearing - that knows she needs something better. Her fingers itch for a wand that was broken weeks ago, and she wishes for it.

There’s a buzz of fear, and then awe as large, spectral hands curl around the edges of the gate and pull it wide. This is the real Mystra, who owes them all her godhood, so this gate is just about the least she can do. Iris takes a deep, steadying breath, and turns to the Motherfuckers.

“Well.” Iris smiles at them, pulls her shoulders back and tries not to seem doubting. “I know I’ll see you all again.”

The next couple words, her eyes light on Cylthia alone. “Regardless. I love you. And, good luck.”

The Motherfuckers nod at her, and Iris turns quickly so she can let her face fall. The gate is still open, the end of the world is still through it, and Iris is not very claustrophobic but she can feel her rabbiting heart in her throat. She counts - one, two, three - and rallies again. “Let’s go, shall we?”

Zier:

7. Things you said when you thought no one else was around

Zier isn’t much of a singer. He’s more than aware of that. His mother and grandmother recommend that he keep his mouth shut more often than not when they’re introducing him to potential suitors. He’s more the “decent with a rapier” and “has a pedigree to blush at” type of suitor, rather than a “can entertain guests for hours with a piano and a voice” type.

This works for him, but it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t sing when he’s alone regardless.

The tune’s pretty hard to fuck up. It’s best described as a lullaby, though it’s not the type of thing to lull someone to anything but alertness. It’s a descriptive song of worship, one that praises how Lolth saw an attack coming and ruined someone’s life for it.

He’s gotten into the the itsy-bitsy spiders / climbed up the traitors snout part and is about to get into the and when they reached the arteries / the blood came spurting out part when there’s a sharp pain in his side.

The first emotion that comes to him is embarrassment, when he sees the bloody rapier point sticking out of his abdomen.

Assassination attempts weren’t entirely uncommon, but constant vigilance really cut down on their successes. And apparently this one could be classified as a success. Damn it.

Very embarrassing that Zier hadn’t seen them coming. If he lived through this, he was absolutely lying.

He realizes, after about a half-second, that they were expecting him to collapse, as the rapier is pulled out.

Zier, instead, because his mother may yet still be able to fix this - runs. Deeper into the tunnels.

It hurts like a bitch.

He forgets what happens after that.

12. Things you said that got interrupted

“And another thing. I don’t appreciate th - mm?”

It was very difficult to continue speaking with two large hands the sides of one’s face and their very insistent mouth on one’s mouth.

This was not a new phenomenon. Zier had shut Nissy up in a very similar manner many times. Nissy is an annoying person. But that doesn’t mean that Zier likes it when it happens to him.

He kisses back regardless. Nissy is... decent at it. Zier may refuse to break up with Nissy for his pride, but if he was also a shitty kisser Zier would say to the hells with it and break up with him anyway. Unfortunately, Zier can appreciate some aspects of Nissy’s self. Even if he hates all the other ones.

Of course, as soon as Nissy pulls away Zier continues - “don’t appreciate that the way you interrupt me, darling.”

and for these, I’m rolling!

Kiya:

8. Things you said you immediately regretted

Kiya was a creature of regrets. None so many as this, potentially.

“You know, I have a bottle of... something in my desk. You’re welcome to have some.”

The issue is not with the offering of the bottle, though, of course, it does mean that it will be drained more quickly and Kiya will have to stare down trying to put together a business such as Motherfuckers Limited (name pending, trademark pending) without even shots of liquid courage when she has to try and figure out designing an idiot-proof expenses form.

The larger issue is that the offer means that she is, problems on problems, offering companionship to the Motherfuckers. Individually, none of them were particularly gregarious, but somehow when put all together, they had decided that they liked her. Very much.

And she had just invited the wolves into the sheep’s pen, apparently.

The last mission had been difficult, though. She could see that simply by looking at them. The spellcasters looked drained in a way that only using higher-levels tended to do to someone, and even Zize had picked off enough scales for there to be crusted blood along some of the ones on their arm. Yocheved had lost a few teeth that were clearly still in the middle of being replaced by the ones in the rows behind them, and the translator around their neck was flickering a little bit, which Kiya didn’t have to know them well to understand that it was stressful.

So. A drink with her employers.

With any luck it wouldn’t have to turn into a drink with her friends.

Kenny:

30. Things you said when you should have been quiet

I do not have the spoons to do another proseboy but. god. kenny should have shut the fuck up rather than inventing pyramid schemes. when a god who probably burnt your village to the ground asks you why you’ve been a good boy slash have kept him secret, you should say as little words as possible. instead, kenny decided to invent the pyramid scheme. excellent work on his part. terrible work on his part.

Isaac:

32. Things you said that you wouldn’t have if it were dark out

(I haven’t played Isaac NEARLY enough but this is basically assuming she’s telling someone about elements of her backstory. Maybe it’s in the Xhorhas campaign. Hard to say.)

Isaac’s just glad that the sky’s as blue as it is. It helps remind her where she is, keeping herself from giving in to the impulse of flipping her dagger over and over in her hands. That’ll just make her nauseous. More than she already is, anyway.

“It wasn’t me,” she says, probably too quiet considering how long she’s been silent. “And it scares me to think about, this person that I am now who isn’t the person who signed that contract but also isn’t the person who sang her lungs out for the worst creatures our world knows, every single night, for... a thousand years, probably.”

She shrugs, and then feels weird for shrugging about it, and then she’s overthinking it, so she kicks the ground and tries to find a pattern in the clouds, casting her attention there even though she can also see her own face, still looking straight ahead.

She coughs, and sees her own brows furrow. “It wasn’t me,” she says. “I pretty much came to be... the day I left. Before that, I was pretending to be the puppet, and before that, I was the puppet, and before that... I don’t know who I was.”

Her tongue darts out, forked and quick, and wets her lips. Isaac, this person she’s looking at, whoever she is, continues speaking. “I know - I think - her name started with an I, because I saw her signature on the contract. And I think she was an elf, because I still have the ears, even if they’re a bit ripped up. And I think - I think she was scared. Her hand was shaking, when she signed. It’s not much, but. Considering just about everything else I figure out by what I don’t know, it’s... kind of nice to draw conclusions based on what I do know. And it makes me feel better, actually. To know that she... she was just young, and scared, and probably didn’t know, when she signed, that she would be making me.”

She finally finds something in the clouds. It looks like a pair of horns. Isaac swallows. “I’d rather not think about who she was, if she knew I’d be the end result. Though maybe I’m just an optimist. It’s a habit I should get out of.”

#alwaysyourqueen #iris #zier #human kiya #isaac #kenny

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