Lyric had been doing her best to stay in character, keeping up the bubbly façade of a well-paid, *ahem*, "companion." The lavish setting of the brothel had been overwhelming at first, but once they settled into their roles, she had fallen into it surprisingly well. Well, until now.
As Mariam’s words snapped through the air, and the merchant's wandering hand finally triggered her breaking point, Lyric’s smile faltered for only a second. This wasn't part of the plan, but that didn't mean they couldn’t salvage it. Quick thinking was *her* specialty.
With a laugh that sounded far too lighthearted for the situation, Lyric bounced forward, clapping her hands together like the giggly companion she was pretending to be. Oh, darling! Mariam here gets so *passionate* sometimes. That temper of hers! She fluttered her eyelashes at the merchant, giving him a dazzling smile that could rival the sun. But I’m sure you didn’t mean to upset her, right? Just a little too much wine, perhaps?
Lyric turned to Mariam, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and gave her a quick wink. Why don’t we pour our dear benefactor another glass, sister? Let him relax... Her voice was laced with suggestion, and without missing a beat, she refilled the merchant’s goblet, giving him an almost conspiratorial grin.
You’ve been so generous, after all. Such a powerful man deserves nothing but the best, right? Lyric leaned in slightly, her hand brushing ever so gently over his as she handed him the drink, trying to draw his attention back to his ego instead of Mariam’s dagger-sharp threat.
Mariam's nostrils flared with irritation at the man, so much so that she didn't notice at first that Lyric had used her real name, but the man, currently accepting another full glass of wine, had caught it, "Oh you all use stage names too then! Are you really sisters then? Come now, let me see if that red matches down below!" Mariam was going to murder everyone and everything in that moment, even as she tried to let Lyric handle this part as she added a bit more sleeping powder to the bottle out of sight.
Of couuuuurse we're sisters, look at us, and tell me you can't tell we're from the same family, all this red hair and pale skin, why, everyone of us look like this, all six of us, all girls too, our poor Da. Because even if when he woke, he remembered a name, she had no family left in the world, save Gabe, so that would at least help her stay a step or two ahead.
And once the man was done drinking that goblet, she handed over the new bottle of wine, giving Lyric a face of disbelief the man was still concious, they'd given him enough of the herb to knock out a Warden completely, but the man was still upright, was he metabolizing it so fast that they couldn't get enough in him? But his eyes were glossy finally, maybe, just maybe they needed to wait a bit, another drink. Only the best for our benefactor.
And maybe a punch dagger through the ribs if he got handsy again like that.
Lyric’s bright smile stayed firmly in place, even as her thoughts raced a mile a minute. This merchant was *really* testing her patience—not an easy feat, considering she was known for her bubbly optimism. Still, if there was one thing she was good at, it was turning awkward, uncomfortable moments into something a little more… sparkly.
She caught Mariam’s wide-eyed look of disbelief and gave her a quick, reassuring wink. Everything was fine. Everything was *always* fine. Well, mostly. Probably.
Lyric stepped in closer, her voice lilting like a melody as she leaned toward the merchant, her movements as light and breezy as if they were chatting about the weather. Oh, *absolutely*, all six of us have this same gorgeous hair, skin like moonlight, and charm for days. Poor Da, though—he used to say we were like trying to herd a bunch of particularly excitable nuglets. Can you imagine? She giggled, the sound like the chiming of tiny bells, and gave the merchant’s arm a light pat, as if they were sharing the most delightful secret.
When Mariam handed over the wine bottle, Lyric kept her cheerful energy up, gently nudging the goblet back into the merchant’s hand. Now, now, no empty glasses at this table! You simply *must* toast to yourself—you’re our *very* favorite benefactor, after all. Who else could manage to sweep us off our feet with such panache? She fluttered her fingers in the air as if casting imaginary sparkles over him, her laughter warm and effervescent.
The merchant raised the goblet with a smug grin, and Lyric lifted an invisible glass of her own, miming a toast with exaggerated enthusiasm. To you, dear patron of fun and fabulousness! May your goblet always be full, your pockets overflowing, and your... um... adventures be just *slightly* less adventurous than tonight! She giggled again, leaning conspiratorially toward him as if they were old friends sharing a joke. Now, bottoms up! Don’t be shy!
As the merchant drained his goblet, Lyric leaned subtly toward Mariam, her voice dropping to a bubbly whisper that only her partner could hear. One more sip and he’ll be off to dreamland faster than a cat in a sunbeam, don’t you think? But if not, I have a song about sleepy little birds that’s been known to work wonders. It’s *very* catchy.
She gave Mariam a grin, her fingers drumming a cheerful rhythm on the table as she waited for the wine to do its work. All the while, she kept the energy light, her focus sharp beneath the glittering façade. This was going to work—she was sure of it. And if it didn’t, well... there was always Plan B. Or C. Or D.
