The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Zevran]

Zevran makes s soft sound, a pained sound, as he reaches for Shisou's hand. "'t'would be a shame to lose those warm brown eyes, but green would look lovely as well," he offers, squeezing gently. 

[Shisou]

Shisou nods, squeezing back firmly. "Anyth-thing e-else?"

[NPCs]

Dau flounders a moment, then tentatively replies, "I could... improve the perception and sensory abilities of your new form? It would not be by a great amount, not without further payment however."

[Shisou]

"N-n-n-o th-thank y-y-you. Th-this w-w-w-will b-b-b-e e-e-e-enough." Shisou smiles, tiredly but hopefully. 

[NPCs]

Dau smiles back, the fronds on his face and chest quivering as if excited. "Then what may I offer?"

[Shisou]

"In f-full: a f-f-emale b-b-body, f-functional, w-with a w-w-working w-w-womb a-aand th-the a-a-bility to b-b-bear o-o-outs-s-ider of--fspring. S-small to m-m-odest ch-chest, g-g-green ey-es, gg-g-green or b-b-b-rown h-h-aair. I-i-immunity t-t-to p-p-p-ois-s-sons. P-p-peak p-phys-s-sical h-hhealth, inc-cluding h-h-healing wh-what w-w-was d-d-d-one t-t-to me a--and the s-stut-t-t-t-t-ter. A-a--and th-the sh-shamanistic t-t-ttie t-t-t-to R-r-r-raplin."

[NPCs]

Dau steps forward-- no, he's lifted by a rapidly sprouting branch-- and extends his hand. "Then we have a bargain?"

[Shisou]

Shisou sticks out his hand, taking Dao's and pumping it once firmly. "Aa-g-g-g-gr-eeed." 

[NPCs]

"Then it shall be done." 

The smell of fresh sap fills Shisou's senses, overwhelming them until they're falling into a gentle, peaceful darkness.

[Isabela]

While Shisou sleeps, Zevran takes this chance to head out to find food -- only to find Bela waiting for him with a small, thin wooden box, the opening of which reveals such heavenly scents that he is eager to take it from her and devour it. "I wasn't sure if you keep Elven," she says, "so I got you pasta. Is that alright? It's got something called a pasto or something for a sauce, I don't know, it's green and all the plant things here are phenomenal."

[Zevran]

Zevran holds out a hand, thumb extended upwards. His other hand and mouth are very much occupied with other duties. After a few seconds, he evidently decides he needs to expand on the sentiment, as he reaches out with that hand to pat her head. 

[Isabela]

She chuckles a little, but her eyes are uneasy. With a glance behind her to where Coquette is sitting, neatly folded into a chair, she adds, in a lower voice, "Got a minute to listen? I'm a little concerned about your wife..."

[Zevran]

Zevran stills for a split second, then nods carefully. His eating speeds up, no longer taking much time to savor the taste but instead just trying to fill his stomach.

[Isabela]

"Is she always this... quite? She barely talked during lunch, let me go on and on without really engaging. She had me order for her, it seemed like she was a million miles away. To be honest, if I didn't know better I'd say she was in subplane. She just... obeyed."

[Zevran]

Zevran frowns, chewing for a moment as he considers all that. "She does sub," he murmurs. "Both by nature and... training, I think." His lip curls on the word but he pushes on. "But no, she is not one I would call shy or reserved, not typically. Did she eat?"