Tales of a Child Eternal [NSFW]

[Helene Dakesh]

Question Day, as Helene liked to consider their Metalladays, was the day each week Helene looked forward to the most. Each week, they saved up as many questions as they could; then, on Metalladay, in the afternoon, they made their way to Voice in the Dark and their standing room reservation, bringing along their sketchbook and satchel. They had started dressing up, too: since it was something of a holiday each week, it made sense to test out more daring fashion choices. This week, they were wearing pinstripe suspenders and a matching hat, something Madam Zevvy had suggested the week prior. It was an unusual choice; they don't like the way their breastband seems to be coming unwound as the suspenders somehow chafed it through the shirt, but the fashion statement might well be worth it.

They give the usual greetings to the whores in the lobby, treating each one to a small bow and a greeting. Judging by their words, the suspenders and hat seemed to be a good choice. They smile faintly as they head up the stairs, hoping that Madam Zevvy is not unduly delayed by his duties at the brothel. 

[NPCs]

Dominique, a rather fetching merikos varana with short, fine reddish fur and intricately braided hair down to her waist, catches Helene on their way up to ZEvran's office. "Oh hey sweetie," she says breezily. "The Madame's gonna be a liiiittle late, he's entertaining some hoity-toities from Skysong. You wanna wait in his office or..." She leans, tail slipping out from under her robe to part the front split and reveal strong, toned legs. "Interested in branching out a touch?" she finishes with a wink.

[Helene Dakesh]

"This one will wait," Helene squeaks, their throat closing around the words as they take a step back. 

[NPCs]

Dominique laughs gently, eyes playful but kind. "That's fine too, sweetie. You want anything to eat sent up? Madame's been working all morning, so he should eat but he won't eat in front of you unless you have something to nibble on at least," she adds in a conspiratorial whisper.

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene frowns faintly. Friends are supposed to ensure that friends eat things; I have seen Madam Zevvy coax Hero zi'Hawke into eating more than once. So, if we are friends now, then I should accept.

"This one accepts your offer. Perhaps some scones would be appropriate?" 

[NPCs]

Oh Ciren, sh- they are SO adorable! So formal and earnest! "Of course sweetie, I'll send up some scones with his lunch. And some tea and juice? Still good with grape?" Without really waiting, Dominique blows an air kiss and heads off. "Door's unlocked!" she tosses over her shoulder.

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene heads into the room, taking a few moments to breathe deeply and get settled. By the time the scones and juice arrive, they're flipping through their sketchbook, reading through the lists of questions. Some questions about that game Beinn Varric mentioned. Some about the workings of the Guard, how they're arranged into squads. Some about particular social interactions I encountered this week.

They flip through the book, pausing on an old image of Sharran, sleeping peacefully. A blue finger traces along a sketched cheek; they close their eyes, bearing through the ghost of old pain. 

Perhaps... perhaps it's finally time to ask the real questions I wanted to ask of Madam Zevvy.

[Tethras Clan]

Zevran slips into the office without a sound, the first hint he's there the closing of the door as he slumps against it. "Ravenous fiends, the lot of them," he mutters to himself in elven, eyes closed. He's wearing a silk robe, tightly belted, though they can see fuzzy slippers on his feet... and a blotches of lipstick marks on his face, neck forearms and the small triangle of skin at the collar of his robes.

[Helene Dakesh]

They give an adorable squeak, starting as they spy Zevran. "Does Honored Madam Zevvy require assistance?" they fumble thorough. 

[Tethras Clan]

Zevran jumps a little, eyes flying open to stare at Helene blankly for a moment. "Hel- oh. Right, it's Q&A day," he mutters, then shakes his head. "I am... fine. Just being a bit dramatic really. Birthday party for a flock of rich ladies. Very.. entitled." He takes a deep breath, then offers a lopsided smile. "How are you doing Helene?"

[Helene Dakesh]

"This one is concerned about Madam Zevvy," they manage. They climb to their feet, giving a low bow, the sketchbook clutched to their chest in a sure sign of being uncomfortable. 

[Tethras Clan]

Zevran chuckles softly, moving to rest a hand on Helene's upper arm for a moment. "I will be fine. A hour or two, some lunch, and some conversation with a dear friend is just what I need, I assure you, mon amie."

[Helene Dakesh]

"Ah-- yes. This one... this one took the liberty of requesting your lunch be brought. And scones," they add, blushing faintly. "Is this acceptable?" 

This does, in fact, turn out to be acceptable. As Madam Zevvy needs a moment or two to clean up, Helene does as they typically do and look through their sketchbook to give him privacy. But today... They peek, just a little. Maybe twice. Or three times. The third time, Zevran catches their eye and smiles; they blush, faintly, looking firmly back down to their sketchbook, hand twitching as though holding a pencil. No, it would be inappropriate to draw... that.

Even if this one really wants to remember what it looks like.

Lunch is eaten, Helene making polite conversation the whole time, not once mentioning anything sexually related. And yet... they're a little more formal than usual, a little more hesitant. A little more insistent on titles. 

[Tethras Clan]

After ten minutes or so, Zevran sighs. Setting his lunch on the serving tray, then sets it aside. Rising, he kneels in front of Helene. "Mon amie, what troubles you? I assure you, you have not offended me," he adds, citing the most common reason for Helene to go super formal on him. And, nine out of ten times, they've not done anything to offend most people, much less him.

[Helene Dakesh]

"This one-- this one was not--" They take a deep breath, then let it out, setting the sketchbook aside. "This one is nervous because.... this one... this one had an ulterior motive in mind for this meeting, and this one... is working up the courage to ask questions this one has had for some time."