The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[NPCs]

"It's alright," someone murmurs, someone good. Someone kind. "It's alright." Little B suddenly realizes, by way of noticing the absence now, that she had been moving previously. Now, however, she's sitting down on something soft. A comforting soft, one with a smooth, almost slick texture that soothes the skin instead of repulsing. A soft she knows; the comforter of her bed, a blend of celestial sheep wool and fey sheep wool. It had been a gift, one of the few things of less than dire functional need that she had brought from her previous life. Her little girls, lost to her now. Just like... just like...

[Coquette Blacquin]

Little B grabs for the comforter, quickly wapping herself in its softness, making a little burrito of herself. She whimpers, ducking her head under the cover, seeking the darkness. 

[NPCs]

Murmurs, words spoke around, over, her. Strong, warm arms and a solid body to one side of her. Different arms, another body to the other side, just as warm but softer, smaller. The words change, becoming smoother and lulling. A strange smell, pleasantly citrus but with a sharp undertone that reminds Cindy of cleaning for some reason. It's hard to care, however, not with how sleepy she feels. Floaty even. Her muscles are lax and pain free, her eyelids each weight a million pounds and it's so... easy... to just...

The warm bodies are still there, still protecting her comforter wrapped body. But the smaller one is snoring now; tiny, adorable snores that mark her identity nearly as well as seeing her face would. She can't see a clock or the sky, obviously, but it feels like pre-dawn, twilight hours. There's just that air of quiet stillness in the room.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Well fuck. Cindy rolls over onto her side, more to make sure the body works than anything, and glances at Claudia, a soft smile coming to her face. We're going to have to explain this, she thinks, with a further frown. Shit. Little B, you really fucked things up for me. 

[Zevran]

Claudia is out hard, a bit of drool on her cheek. She's still partially dressed, with her boots, socks and corset missing but her dress still on. That's as far as Cindy gets in her study before Zevran murmurs, "who's awake?" in a midnight whisper.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Zev," she whispers, rolling over to face him instead. Without warning, she throws her arms around him, crying on his shoulder silently. 

[Zevran]

"Wha--" Zevran grunts a little as she impacts him, but his arms pull her in without hesitation. "Ah, yes, I am indeed awake," he says in weak jest. "But I was hoping to find out things on your end?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"It's Cindy," she whispers. "I've put Little B back in her room."

[Zevran]

"Is she-- you, all of you... well, not okay, clearly but... recovering?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"This happens, sometimes," she says quietly. "Little B gets... reminded, by something, and she bursts to the front and panicks. None of us can regain control for a while."

[Zevran]

Zevran nods, rubbing small, slow, circles on her back as he listens. "I have seen such occur before, though likely not entirely the same," he replies after a moment. "Or perhaps some were, come to think on it. I cannot be sure after all this time, of course, but..." 

[Coquette Blacquin]

"How do we prevent it? Do you know?" she asks, a little desperately. "She's ruined a good deal of what Noire's built."

[Zevran]

"I-- Noire's work?" Zevran asks, distracted by the second comment.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Our reputation. Our... prestige."

[Zevran]

"Ah, you are worried... Claudia said that you need not be concerned with any, ah, how did she... With any 'adverse reactions from caustic substances posing as people.' You would need to speak with her to find out details but hopefully that is reassuring in at least a small way."