demandsatisfaction | noctium

[ Okay, the first time his text went to the wrong person, but this time Matt's triple-checked his message history before hitting send. ]

ugggh the elevator i'm in is stopped and i accidentally texted the wrong person about it

[Lilias doesn't actually know anyone who would text her out of the blue, and is definitely confused to receive a text at this random hour-- but she smiles with a bit of private amusement when she sees the contents. Oh, that's unfortunate...]

My condolences. That sounds both highly inconvenient and at least a little embarrassing.

Even more so if shared with two different people unintentionally.

[ Oh my god ]

oh my god

I'm so sorry

I mean, I'm a little sorry for me, but more sorry to bother you, Lady Hollow

I've been noticing an above-average amount of malfunctions around here, of which the stopped elevator is just one. Might be a holdover from the blackouts the other month

You aren't bothering me. I may have laughed a little, actually.

[Sorry, mystery elevator person.]

But since I have now enjoyed myself at your expense, I should ask: is help forthcoming, or have you also failed to reach anyone who might free you from your predicament?

at least somebody's feeling positive emotions about all this 😂

[ Paradoxically, now that Matt's being shown sympathy, his urge is to demur. He types out various versions of don't worry, I'm okay, thanks for asking, deletes them, and indecisively redrafts. ]

I called emergency services, but they're a little overburdened today. So for now I'm just chilling.

Maybe slightly contemplating crawling out the roof 🙂

And into the closed elevator shaft?

[That sounds like something a wise and cautious person would contemplate.]

What floor did it stop on?

as far as I can tell, between 9 and 10. the thing that tells you the floor has been fizzing on and off

[ There's another pause between messages, but this time it's not for self-doubt.

A few minutes later, Matt sends a photo. ]

Thoughts?

[She has to squint at the dark, blurry picture that pops up on her phone screen. What even is this? From context: the elevator shaft, but by the gods, what a bad photo.]

I hope you're not thinking of pursuing a career in photography.

[Don't quit your day job, Matt. He probably means thoughts about climbing into the elevator shaft, though.]

If you climb up there, is there actually any way for you to crawl out? This picture is not especially illuminating.

Well, if I were thinking about it, I'd appreciate the unvarnished feedback 😂

yeah, I can see how it'd be tough to make out, but there DOES look like a way to crawl out

it's just a little too far for me to jump

(I'm also not thinking of a career as an acrobat)

Unvarnished feedback is just one of the services I can provide.

Follow up question: By "a way to crawl out," do you mean an open doorway leading into a hallway, or a ventilation shaft that you can get equally stuck in?

[ There's a pause after she sends that last message, though it's showing up as read. ]

wow

it's like you're here with me

It just seemed karmically likely. In my experience, fate is loath to make things simple or easy.

Send me your location. I'm going to come and meddle.

You're speaking my language, Ms. Hollow

[ Ping! Matt's in a multilevel mall in the Sapphire District, if his location data is to be believed. ]

I'll be the guy stuck between probably floors 9 and 10, playing music off this thing as loud as I can

[ It seems like it'll help this person find him. And more importantly, when you're stuck in an elevator, you gotta make your own fun. Matt's just happy he figured out how to get his laptop's music library onto this space phone.

Faint music echoes tinnily up and down the elevator shaft. Is Matt singing along? You can't prove that. ]

There's no need to be so formal. Please call me Lilias.

[She's travelling across the city to break him out of an elevator shaft. That seems like grounds for being on a first-name basis to her.

When she arrives at the location he's sent her, Lilias has to spend a while roaming around the tenth floor and sidling up to different elevators before she finds what she thinks is the right one. The indicator light above the doors is off, and she can hear the sounds of music emanating from within, just barely audible over the din of the mall music and crowds. She raps on the metal doors with her cane, holding her phone in her other hand while she considers the barrier.]

If you are on top of the elevator, I would suggest going back inside. As a precaution.

[Not that she's planning to make anything dangerous happen in there, but she's never done this before and she's not certain how it's going to go.]

And try not to touch anything.

Lilias, then.

I'm Matt. Pleased to meet you, shame about the circumstances

[ Matt says this to so many people on this planet that it should be his email signature.

Anyway, Matt leaves the elevator hatch open, but drops back inside to start his impromptu rescue-flare jam party. The music is loud enough to amply fill the little box, but not so loud that he fails to hear the metallic echo of Lilias' cane. ]

But put me out, put me out, put me out of miseryyyy--

[ Matt's phone buzzes. He checks his messages. And, after a moment, yells: ]

Lilias? Is that you?

[Yeah, she’s not about to yell at the closed doors of this mall elevator. She leans her cane against the wall next to the door and painstakingly taps a couple of messages out on her little network device.]

Yes.

[More tapping.]

I’m going to try to open the door.

[Even if she knew the spell to do this, she wouldn’t be able to cast it now, without Belzath with her. There’s also no way that she can even attempt to lever the door open herself; even if she had the right tools, she just doesn’t have the strength. But that doesn’t mean that she is without options.

Since she formed her pact, Lilias has learned the value of taking the time to do things the smart way. If she can take the necessary time, she prefers to plan and strategize and put together a solution to solve her problems with elegant efficiency. It allows for reduced risk, collateral, energy expenditure; for increased convenience and chance for success. This is her preference both in spellcraft and in life, and it is why, in the weeks since she arrived here, she has spent so much of her time learning all she can about this world, its magic, and its people.

But sometimes a more immediate approach is required. Sometimes someone is trapped in the elevator of a public mall and the local emergency services are too busy putting out fires to come wedge open a door. So since she has no specialized solution to this problem and no physical ability to tackle it—she’ll just have to brute-force it with magic.

Summoning a very rudimentary knowledge of elevator doors, she rests her hands against the cool metal and pushes a surge of lightning back through the mechanical arm all the way to the door’s motor, demanding it open the door for her. With a noise like a metal fork being fried in a microwave, the door jerks about halfway open before the motor shorts out in a rather fantastic explosion of sparks and a billow of acrid smoke.]

[ On Matt's end, he's curiously waiting to see what an attempt to open the elevator door will look like.

--And gets his answer in explosion form! Matt hits the deck, his phone clattering to the elevator floor.

After a pause, he slips the phone into his pocket and hauls himself back up through the roof hatch. From Lilias' perspective, a tousle of dark hair pops up some yards below her, accompanied by a bright and inquisitive face. ]

Hey! Nice to meet you!

[Almost as soon as the door has jammed half-open and the shower of sparks inside the elevator shaft has subsided, Lilias grabs her cane and sticks her head through the door to see the situation for herself. It's gloomy and difficult to make out too many details, but she is gratified to see that nothing has been obviously damaged beyond the smoking door motor. She's probably going to be on the hook for that later.

She's still looking up at the lightly smoking motor when Matt appears from the elevator car below. Lilias looks down at him and smiles.]

Likewise.

[She makes a light, sweeping gesture with one ring-adorned hand.]

This is my first elevator rescue. How am I doing?

So far, pretty impressive, [ he calls up. ] Only problem is I still don't know how to get from here to there.

[ In the meantime, a little light to work by can't hurt. Matt focuses a moment, his breath hitching; a gold-glowing bauble appears over his head, drifting up the elevator shaft to hover somewhere slightly above the tenth floor. ]

You don't happen to have a length of rope, do you?

[ Of course, he doesn't have a whole lot of upper arm strength with which to hold a rope. And he doesn't know how to tie a climbing har--

Harness.

Oh. ]

[Her eyes follow the glowing orb as it floats up the shaft, shedding a warm golden glow. So-illuminated, the elevator shaft's various mechanisms and hidden details come into full clarity, making the space seem an especially inappropriate place for a random man to be hanging about.]

Unfortunately, I left my rope at home.

[By her inflection, home refers to her home planet, rather than just her local dwelling. But whatever strength Matt lacks to use for climbing, her own ability to provide an anchor for the upper end is certainly even less. She leans a shoulder against the side of the door as she considers the sight below her.]

I have a spell that can lift you out. [Serendipitously, this is almost the only native magic of hers that she still retains the ability to use.] But you must promise not to wriggle. The stability mid-levitation leaves something to be desired.

Levitation.

[ Matt's eyebrows climb, his face paling slightly. He wants to be good-giving-game here, especially because he has no better suggestions himself, but the prospect of floating in the air above a multi-story drop with a spell that precludes random movement ... is a nail-biter for him. ]

Ah. Before I say yes officially to you doing that, is there anything in addition to not wriggling that I can do to help this spell succeed?

[Lilias doesn't quite catch the way he goes pale all the way down there in that gloomy elevator shaft, but she nonetheless picks up on his reluctance to be scooped up and slowly floated up to freedom. Being reassuring is not something she feels she's especially strong at, but she'll give it her best shot.]

You don't need to do anything, Matt. There's no danger of the spell failing part way up. The only reason I cautioned you is because I don't want you to knock your head into something before you reach the top.

[How's she doing? The worst case scenario has de-escalated from "fall to your death" to "crack your head against the side of the shaft." Um...]

I can't lift you unless you're willing, so it's your choice. But I won't let anything happen to you.

[ Actually, this sounds fairly reassuring to him. "No danger of the spell failing partway up" is hard to beat as a guarantee, and the explanation for her warning makes sense to him. Slowly, Matt nods.

Then, with some effort, he clambers the rest of the way through the hatch and lands in an undignified crouch on the elevator roof. For a few moments, he breathes, trying to convince his hands to unclench from the elevator cables.

Once more, he looks up at Lilias. ]

Okay. Go for it.

Right then.

[Lilias inclines her head, regarding him in the elevator shaft below as she takes a steady breath. As she lifts a hand to point down at him, the shadows cast by his floating light writhe, spread, and swell into the air like mushrooms after a summer rain. Within moments they have swathed Matt like a hazy, immaterial cocoon, and the contact of his shoes against the elevator's roof is weightlessly incidental.

She makes a short, beckoning gesture, and he rises, smoothly and slowly. True to her warning, the buoying shadows do nothing to assist Matt's ability to keep his balance centered, but he nonetheless rises inexorably up until he's level with the half-open door where Lilias waits. She leans forward and extends a slim hand toward him once he has stopped his ascent, bracing herself against the door so she can pull him out.]

Here, take my hand.

[ --Oh.

This cocoon effect is very nice. And the beckoning gesture is elegant. Matt tries to focus on those aspects of the spell, and his own body--the alignment of his head and spine, down through hips and legs to the tips of his air-skimming toes. It's not enough to make Matt forget his fear. But it does distract him from it a little bit, until Lilias' hand comes into reach.

This time he doesn't hesitate: just wraps his fingers around hers with intense gratitude. ]

[Despite the magic doing the work of keeping him suspended midair, Lilias trembles slightly with effort as she pulls him out of the yawning emptiness of the elevator shaft. But her grip is firm, her countenance free from doubt, and Matt comes to a gentle stop just above the polished floor—low enough to rest his feet on it, although the spell bearing his weight makes walking a near-impossibility. Leaning on her cane, Lilias graces him with a slightly playful smile.]

Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?

[The weight of her magical efforts and hurried journey here settles over her as she reclaims her hand. She has to spend another moment gathering herself before dissolving the spell, letting the gathered shadows evaporate like morning mist. Finally, gravity reasserts itself.]

[ When Matt's feet touch down and really stick, he lets out an audible sigh of relief. Halfway out, the sigh turns into a wondering laugh, Matt's distracted mind picking up Lilias' smile and reflecting it back to her. ]

That was--

Awesome.

[ He feels a lot of things. Ebullience over the life-or-death display of magic. Deferred adrenaline. Embarrassment over having been scared at all, when in retrospect it was a very brief trip across the elevator shaft and everything went perfectly.

Finally, he collects himself enough to ask, ] What about you, are you okay?

[Lilias is a little tickled by the degree to which Matt seems to need to collect himself after finally escaping from his elevator prison. Not that she can really blame him—although she has no particular fear of heights, the idea of being trapped in a little metal box in a dark elevator shaft is enough to make her skin prickle uncomfortably. Perhaps she was just expecting him to downplay it a little more.]

I am just fine.

[There is no need to worry about this lady; she isn't the one who spent the last however long trapped in an elevator. But even as she says it, she's conscious of how wrung dry she feels, and she inclines her head slightly in reluctant acknowledgement.]

A little spent, perhaps. I'm still getting used to the toll that my magic exacts here.

[ Matt smiles in a sympathetic grimace. ]

Ah, yeah, that's a pretty common one for people. [ Not for him, but Matt suspects that has to do with the way magic works for him, or at least how it can work. ] Well, let me know if you want any ... hand-holding, or whatever. Least I can do to thank you for saving my skin.

Oh, hand-holding? How forward of you.

[Lilias chuckles gently, her face lighting up despite the heavy ache in her limbs.]

I'll consider it. In the meantime...

[She crooks a finger, inviting him to step closer.]

Why don't you lend me your arm for a while, and accompany me somewhere we can sit and enjoy ourselves. That is, if you've explored more of this place than just the elevator.

[ Matt laughs, sheepish--though at the same time, he's pleased by the way Lilias' expression brightens. He steps forward in answer to her beckoning finger, arm already lifting. ]

I definitely have. I've been here for months, actually. What are you into, outdoor markets? Subterranean dive bars? Maybe a bioluminescent arboretum? Those should all be, you know ... [ A suspicious narrowing of his eyes. ] In walking distance.

[Lilias takes his arm without hesitation, her grey eyes glinting beneath brows that are now gently raised at the short list of potential places they could go.]

Is there really a bioluminescent arboretum within a walk of here?

[This city really does have everything, doesn’t it?]

I arrived just last month, so I’ve barely had the chance to explore anywhere yet. I’m tempted by all of those places, but— [She pauses briefly, considering.] Let’s go see the plants. I’ve frequented more than enough drinking establishments in the past few weeks already.

[ Matt chuckles. ]

Fair enough. When I first landed here I went to this one dive bar like, multiple times per week, and I could not keep that pace up. [ His expression softens. ] I really like the Night Gardens, though. It's beautiful there. And ... botanically significant, so there's that.

[ He glances skeptically around the bank of elevators, before deciding, ] Let's take the stairs.

[ It's a long way to the ground floor, and it's only there that Matt realizes: ] By the way, did I actually say thank you for saving me? Because thank you.

You're fond of growing things? I haven't been to a garden in a long time.

[Not since she was back home in Magnimar. Lilias lets out a small sigh, surprised that this fact makes her feel a little homesick.

Her mouth thins slightly at the mention of the stairs—all nine flights of them. She'd used magic to skip them on the way up, and only partly because she was in a bit of a hurry. The only reason she'd known enough about elevators to force open the door was because she'd been so impressed with them after her arrival that she'd spent hours on the network, looking up everything she could about their workings. She always avoided taking stairs around other people if she could; being forced to take them so deliberately made her feel like an old woman.

But something about the magic here is harder on her body than she's used to, and besides, it would be even more telling to abandon Matt just to skip the stairs and meet him at the bottom. So she smooths her expression and nods her assent, and tries not to let her limp or her fatigue get the best of her as they make their way to the ground floor. She's leaning harder on Matt's arm by the time they get there, but the pleasure that lights her face when she receives his thanks is genuine.]

Think nothing of it. I would do it again.

[ Matt winces a little as they start down the first flight. He hadn't really thought to ask about mobility issues. On the one hand, the elevators do not seem to be in safe working order to him. And on the other, he supposes he didn't think that somebody who could so easily levitate him over a 9-story drop would be stopped by anything. That was a stupid assumption, he can see in immediate hindsight.

Still, he doesn't say anything about it. Just shifts gently as they go, offering Lilias more of his support. And he takes the stairs pretty slow.

Matt smiles at Lilias' answer when he thanks her. It's what he'd say, he thinks. And the look on her face warms him to see. ]

Cool.

Well, if you haven't been to a garden in a long time, the Night Gardens are a really good place to start. I can't even describe how it all looks ... like being in the ocean and it's full of jellyfish, but they're all flowers. [ Matt takes a moment to glance around, making sure of the way even though he already knows it. Then he leads them north. ] I do like growing things, though--I use a lot of herbs and flowers in my practice.

[What does the ocean look like when it's full of jellyfish? She's never seen a live one, although she has seen some drawings and dried specimens. And obviously dried jellyfish don't look like much. But his description is fanciful enough to make her smile, despite the dull ache in her legs as they emerge from the building.]

I've read that some jellyfish aren't especially safe to touch. Are these flowers the same?

[He did say they were… what was it? Botanically significant? What does that imply, in an alien world full of unfamiliar living things? She supposes she'll have the opportunity to find out.]

Tell me more about your practice. All I know about you is that you can summon light, and you have bad luck with technology.

((holler at me me if there's anything you'd like changed/added/etc!!))

[Ophelia put a lot of energy into her contributions to the Brumfast party, so it's no wonder that similar scenarios begin to fill her mind even in her dreams. The devil woman who appeared the night previous and cracked her hard across the back of the thighs had been equally... informed, she supposes, by the time of year, impacted by local superstition. What is strange, however, is the reappearance of a dream visitor with whom she is acquainted but has had little opportunity to meet in person. She would start to wonder if Lilias herself is a creation solely of dreams if she weren't so obviously in control.

From the cozy, almost gingerbread-like setting of the cabin this dream takes place in to the twinkling lights just barely unreachable in the distance, there's a holiday ambience around them. But outside, a storm is still raging, and occasionally a windy chill strikes the firelit room. Her outfit, even, is not unlike a 21st century take on thisbecause this look is really underrated and extremely slept on, though the look and fabric are modernized. Dressed so prettily and fussing around the place as though any amount of trying could make this dream house even more of a home, Ophelia's domesticity should probably bore her...and yet she seems so earnest in it.]

Is everything to your liking?

[On the surface, she could be referring to any number of things about the situation: The decorations purposefully placed around the house, or the music playing muted in another room, or the cooking and baking already done. But a keen eye could just as easily catch that she in some way means herself as well, especially given the way she folds her hands behind herself, anticipating scrutiny. Ophelia can count on her fingers the number of people whose approval she actively has sought. As befitting most mages, her pride encompasses itself, and she remains self-assured of her own abilities. Yet it feels like the pit of her stomach will fall out if she isn't given something positive for her efforts. She fidgets, line of vision fixing on the floor at Lilias' feet.]

If you have other specifications, it isn't too late to accommodate them.

[It has been a long time since Lilias was treated to anything resembling luxury for the winter holidays. Her years of late have most often been spent in roadside taverns or camped in forest clearings. The comfort and ease of being waited on for her every whim hasn't been her reality in… well, ever, actually. Even when she lived with servants, she valued their labour too much to have them toil for her every desire.

But on this night, things are different. Lilias can still feel the phantom weight of the birch rod placed in her hand, and although the switch itself is nowhere to be seen, the curving horns and sharp teeth gracing her features are clear signs of the rod's continued influence. She's been working hard these past weeks, and she deserves some recompense. She knows the woman across from her only from her dreams, but whether she's real or imagined, she is clearly eager to please--and for once, Lilias is inclined to make her work for it.

Comfortably seated on a small sofa with her hooved feet crossed at the ankles, Lilias is dressed in a dark blue blouse and long black skirts. The rubies at her ears glitter in the fire light as she turns to regard Ophelia, her grey eyes scanning the room to observe her efforts before finally scrutinizing the woman herself. Her desire for praise is obvious, but Lilias isn't ready to give it to her just yet.]

Hmm. Come here. [She doesn't so much as beckon, simply waiting with a steady gaze for Ophelia to step closer.] I want my hair braided and done up. Don't tug it.

[Ophelia doesn't jump to answer the summons, but she does move quickly. Even without praise, to be relied on even for something so small scratches a deep itch to be useful. It has nothing to do with the switch or its lingering brand on the back of her legs (though it does help. It really, really helps).]

Of course. [Her head bobs; there's a glitter of her own golden qilin scales in the firelight that shifts as she moves to stand behind the sofa.] Ma'am. [There's sincere deference in her voice, but it lilts up slightly at the end, an implicit question in it: Was that the right one to say?

Ophelia dresses well, and she's used some of her leisure time to better understand the fashion zeitgeist in Sumarlok especially, but she's always prioritized practicality over beauty. Little things, like the stars embroidered into her eyepatch, are indulgences. She has to ponder sincerely what would look nicest as she tenderly combs Lilias' hair into place. Painstakingly gentle, Ophelia sometimes runs her fingertip or knuckle along the scalp beneath the hair, gradually sectioning strands out before starting an orderly Dutch braid along the side of her head.]

It's been a while since we've last met, hasn't it? [The last time had been much messier - a bloody, magical adventure in the middle of an unforgiving wilderness. But the snow, it would seem, is the same regardless. It would be inappropriate to mention the new additions to her appearance, but at the very least - ] You look really striking tonight, ma'am. [She hasn't considered that she might be speaking out of turn; there have been no instructions indicating otherwise, but the correction would mortify her regardless.]

[Doing her hair is a little more difficult with the horns currently springing from Lilias’s brow, but that’s why she wants Ophelia to do it instead of her—that, and because she wants to feel her fingers on her scalp. Lilias closes her eyes as Ophelia begins to comb and separate her hair, though her posture remains straight-backed. It’s been a long time since she had anyone else to do her hair for her; she hadn’t realized until just now how much she missed the sensation. When Ophelia speaks a second time, she replies without opening her eyes.]

You may address me as “my lady.”

[She says it firmly, but without any particular condemnation. After all, this is only the first time Lilias has instructed her on terms of address. As for the rest, she decides that the compliment is a welcome one. There is no one else present for her to speak with, so although she isn’t inclined to tend to Ophelia’s whims, she’s not remotely inclined to ignore her presence. If anything, she thinks she’d like to hear more.]

You think so, do you? [A hint of amused pleasure curves her lips.] How striking am I? Tell me.

[It isn't a chastisement, luckily, so any breath Ophelia was holding about disappointing. Nevertheless, the pressure to overachieve does leave her slightly cowed once the information is given. She can do better next time. The added stress just thrills her more. The horns do present unique challenges, especially for someone who's rarely touched anyone's hair but her own. In the absence of friends to share these little intimate gestures with, she could previously only imagine what it was like not just to be so close to someone, but invited.]

Of course I do! [Her hands readjust slightly to encourage the braid to lay neatly, grip tightening as she guides it neatly along behind her ear, trying to be as firm as possible to discourage any stray hairs. There are plenty of things about Lilias' outfit and makeup to admire, but it's the woman herself that she ends up fixing most of her attention on.] You have a very noble demeanor; regardless of the room you entered, all eyes would be on you immediately. You've chosen perfect jewelry for the occasion, but no one will be able to focus on that for long.

[She's beautiful in all ways, but it's her presence and demeanor that Ophelia keep coming back to. Sheepish, her voice trails off.]

Frankly, you're shining quite brilliantly. [Lilias likely won't understand the deeper, sincere meaning behind the compliment, though it's paid in earnest. Ophelia doesn't even need the lost power of her eye to see - or appreciate that radiance. She wouldn't normally speak so openly, and there's something strangely liberating about it - as embarrassing as this will be to reflect on come the end of the month, if only because she likes it more than she should.] Thank you for allowing me to help with this, my lady.

It seems that tonight there is no one else to appreciate my brilliance. It’s just the two of us.

[The words are pretty, flattering in their own right, but what makes Lilias smile is the sincerity that bleeds through Ophelia’s compliments. Anyone can use pleasant turns of phrase to sweeten the mood, but the surety and lack of hesitation in the woman’s answer makes Lilias think that it isn’t just she who’s been gifted with the pleasure of this snowed-in little dream meeting. The pleasure of having Ophelia cater to her desires is one thing; the prospect of the woman’s desire to submit to her is heady in and of itself.

She wonders what Ophelia was thinking when she chose her outfit for the evening, whether she wanted to impress—or entice. The disappointing thing about having her do her hair like this is that Lilias can’t look at her while she does it. But she lets herself linger on the feeling of fingers carefully moving over her hair, working the braid along the side of her head. And she focuses on the cadence of Ophelia’s voice as she continues to speak, satisfaction warming her like a good, strong drink. She really has been so diligent, so dutiful. Good service deserves to be recognized.]

Is this all the privilege you might wish for? The chance to be of service to me.

A shame about the storm. We might have been able to have some company if it weren't for the snow.

[If the overall...everything of the various domesticity around them is anything to go by, the house has been made up to receive company. A party, perhaps, or at least some intimate gathering for a few people. The weather in the dream contrived to keep them here alone, but that shouldn't be anything to complain about. A shame about the storm, maybe, but she sounds content with what she has here. If only she could quite articulate how difficult it once was for her to accept these limitless, tenuous moments of quiet. Perhaps it's this small purpose, serving her will, that makes accepting that gap all the sweeter.]

Whatever you saw fit, it would be enough. [It's another statement made in earnest; even for Ophelia under different, less altered states of mind, her loyalty comes with few expectations of reciprocation. Lilias may not have walked through fire to pull her from the blaze, but that doesn't diminish the intensity of her sentiments now.]

... However, I'm not one to settle in my ambitions. [Ophelia isn't exactly winning any brat competitions any time soon, but she's getting better about letting the strength of her will shine through, about giving some voice to what she wants. Submissive or not, someone who fought with the energy of the woman she met in another dream probably doesn't mind a bit of a challenge.] I'm equally able to enjoy your company like this, right? [Under the pretense of gathering up the remaining hair at the end of the braid to pin it, she also brushes her knuckle along the nape of her neck. It's subtle enough to easily explain away, enough plausible deniability given her task, but her finger lingers just a little too long and traces the skin just a little too deliberately. She's blushing, being this bold, but luckily Lilias is faced away from her.] Would you care for a drink when I'm finished? I'd like to sit and share one with you, if it pleases you.

[Lilias smirks a little at the deliberate stroke of Ophelia's fingers, subtly at odds with her rather demure replies. The way her hands move to brush against skin suggests that a drink isn't all she'd like, and despite Ophelia's claim that she isn't one to settle, to Lilias, she gives off the impression of one who is harbouring desires that she isn't quite ready to voice. But the evening is still young, yet. There will be plenty of time to see if she can coax a bit more out of her, and a drink is an excellent place to start.]

Hmmm.

[Lilias hums, pretending to consider the request as Ophelia finishes up with her braid. She waits until it's pinned in place before she makes her decision.]

Yes, I think I would like a drink. You may pour some for us, once you've finished your current task.

Oh—and fetch something light for us to eat, as well. Something sweet, I think.

Of course. I've been baking nearly all day; I'm certain I can find something to your liking.

[No wonder. In the waking world Ophelia has already been doing her share of baking. No wonder it's bled into the fantasies here. She must have done more baking over the past few weeks than she ever has since taking an interest in the art. A weakness, a failure to adhere to her goals...but she's been so content, keeping the oven warm as she finishes treats for parties and gifts. Thinking of sharing her accomplishments warms her, and she hums a few times, deep in her throat. She's fortunate that the black, lupine features that have characterized her previous few transformations are absent, replaced by the familiar golds and whites of the qilin - save the horns, at least, which appear to have shed for the winter. The wolf features so often betray her thoughts and feelings. At least the feathery lashing of her tail now might be easily explained away as more than excitement or happiness.]

I'm nearly finished here, my lady. [There's still a thinner group of loose strands remaining unbraided, closer to the shorn side of her head, that Ophelia gathers up now. These strands she works into a quicker, even tighter braid, which she brings up and around the larger one, both secured behind one of the devilish horns Lilias sports now.] That should do it. Now, with your leave...

[She has something she needs to fetch. Ophelia takes a certain pride in running things smoothly: Just because it's a household tonight doesn't make it any less important. She moves quickly, lightly, through the ambiguously laid out floor plan of this dream cabin before she can return balancing two glasses of sparkling wine and two thickly sliced pieces of tightly rolled bûche de Noël, one of each she offers over immediately. The sofa is small but still enough to seat the both of them if they were to squeeze in together, and though her imagination quickly runs off with the fancy, she knows the thought is an impetuous one.

She kneels instead, balancing her weight over her heels on the rug next to the couch. Tail still going.]

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ho ho, hos

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ooohhhhhhhhh rip to my html, a christmas miracle that wasn't

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