The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Coquette Blacquin]

Little B shakes her head. "Tall like you."

"What's got your interest?" asks Cedric. 

[The Iron Bull]

"I can fight this," Bull replies too honestly, adding no less accurately but less honestly, "I mean, come on! How often does a guy get a chance to hunt and fight a dragon, Ced?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

Cedric hesitates. "Is the monster here, Little B?"

She shakes her head. "I locked the door."

"Well not very well," he points out. "I followed you."

"Oh," she says, very soft. 

[The Iron Bull]

Bull's jaw quivers as he fights back a growl. Another fight I can't help with. Another battle I-- "So about that... how did you get here, exactly?" he manages instead, though his tone is still demanding, stern. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

"I... have no idea," says Cedric, hesitantly. "I was trying to find Little B here."

"I ran and hid from the monster," she says quietly. "I don' wanna go back!" 

[The Iron Bull]

"One thing at a time," Bull says firmly, lifting a finger to order a slow down. "When you ran away, how did you get here?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"I wished for somewhere safe to hide and a door opened up so I went."

[The Iron Bull]

"You just... wished for it?" Bull repeats, brow furrowed. "Like how I conjured up my mom's pack?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

Little B nods, sticking her fingers in her mouth in a gesture that makes her seem a lot younger. 

"That... doesn't usually work." 

[The Iron Bull]

"Which part? The all of it or just the mind transfer mojo?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Well I've never heard of someone visiting someone else's inner world like this. Maybe if there was a magic ritual, but we didn't do one. And usually she can't just wish up something. I guess if she was scared enough..."

[The Iron Bull]

"Oh. Huh. Wait, you can't do things like this," Bull confirms, gesturing at the three dinos, which snap back into focus. It's a queer effect really, how Cedric realizes they'd been... not fuzzy or blurred but something similar until Bull had mentioned them. "Okay... so... any thoughts on how we track down, uh, Draby?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

Little B opens her mouth--

Something slams into Bull's chest, and he's instantly "awake", staring down at the top of the girl's head. Seems she's been flipped over, and now he's in position to see himself looming over her, coming in at her, as if he's the one being taken. She's gone quiet from shock and pain, sniffling softly, and--

somehow, it feels further away. The pain, the shock, the horror, doesn't feel quite real. It all seems like some crazy dream he's having, something surreal and absurd. But try as he might, he just can't seem to get back into the inner realm. 

Not until later, anyway....


Coquette takes a deep breath, then the doors open and she's ushered into the venue. Lacking a natural clearing like the elves would use, they have instead taken her to the shore of a lovely underground lake, where the guests are sitting waiting for her entrance. Noire has escorted Claudia in already, and it's her job as the newcomer to walk alone, bringing herself and only herself. Zevan attends to her train, making sure it flows nicely along the ground, and also being close by in case she needs him. She holds her head high, letting Noire make her face imposing and imperious, hoping to scare off any would-be challengers.

Please, Ciren, let there not be challenges. 

[Zevran]

'You go in alone, to show your independence and humility,' they said. 'Nothing of worth save the dress you wear to honor the vows to be made,' they said. 'Oh, and have your male manage the train' they added in the same breath. Zevran's mild inner grumblings don't come anywhere near to showing on his face or in his bearing, a serene expression and a demure smile firmly in place. I am strangely pleased with my outfit, I must admit. In sharp contrast to Coquette's gorgeous gown of vibrant purple and glossy navy, the preponderance of creamy black leather, gleaming steel and silver metal and artfully arranged scraps of lace and silk on the crowd or Claudia's cheerful orange and sunset red cotton and tassels, Zevran is covered from toes to wrists to the bottom of his chin in a mottled gray coarse silk bodysuit. It's fairly tight, but more practically so rather than proactively, with the intent of making him appear irrelevant, almost scenery. But it's also surprisingly comfortable.

[Claudia Emerison]

Oh gods oh gods oh gods ohgodsohgodsohgodsohgodsohgodsohgodsohgodsohgods. Thanks to a mild alchemical aid, Claudia manages to keep a solemn, expectant mask in place as she listens to Coquette making her way up to the edge of the water. Most of those assembled have the skill to tell it's a mask, but few could guess what it's hiding, a fact that many note with surprised, almost reluctant approval. Claudia's reputation, outside of a handful of engineering achievements, is pretty trash among the drow after all. Despite having to face forward this whole time, Claudia has managed to give the officiant less than a handful of passing glances, keeping her gaze instead firmly on the intricately carved wooden altar set a few feet into the water. The ritual itself takes place right at the water's edge, in a small cove created by rubbing the stone with rags for months. By males of course, though a priestess oversees the process to bestow blessings on the work. As the footsteps behind her turn into an imposing beauty, Claudia prays even harder. 

Please don't let her ruin this. Not again. Please. Anyone. Please