[Complete] A Bottle Episode

[LuckyBlackCat]

"Well that narrows things down at least," Alyson replied. No lingering traces of magic - or so Lady CiCi said. Unless, of course, Lady CiCi was the one responsible, or in league with the murderer and drawing attention away from them. Alyson wasn't quite sure what to make of that little smirk. The vagueness of the response to Claria's question, along with the exaggerated sweet smile, only made the enigmatic girl look all the more suspicious.

With a sigh, she watched Sable mix the second potion. Despite her relief that her friend's Noble Pursuit hadn't been contaminated, that awful possibility Alyson had refused to dwell on seemed all the more likely, like an ever-growing weight. Sable had, after all, been oddly confident about making and consuming a drink, mere moments after a lethal poisoning incident. But why? Why would Sable do such a thing? And why would she brew a deadly concoction in plain sight of her patrons?

Even if Lady CiCi or Sable were the culprit, there was no way to know just yet. All Alyson could do was watch for more hints.

Another shimmer caught her eye as Lady CiCi resumed writing, asking Claria if she'd ingested anything suspect. Indeed, the Zora looked to be on the verge of a panic attack, visibly shaking. Not only that, but her clenched jaw and her tense, cautious movements suggested pain. Alyson grimaced. What if others here had consumed tainted drinks, ones that took effect more slowly in their cases? It didn't bear thinking about.

"Is... everyone here feeling alright?" Her eyes swept over the many faces as she looked out for anything off. "Physically, I mean."


Lady CiCi's demeanour did nothing to calm Claria's nerves. The smiles, the exaggerated motions, the way she flat out avoided giving a proper answer to the question... In fact, if Claria was reading her correctly, Lady CiCi seemed to be rather enjoying this.

She pressed her lips tight as she fought back a shudder. No, that was a cruel thought to have on so little evidence. All she knew was that this woman was hiding something, her behaviour difficult to puzzle out.

Said confusing behaviour continued as, with a strange look, Lady CiCi inquired about her physical state, attributing it to something she'd ingested. Without even asking, the Hylian leaned over and reached up. Claria sharply pulled back as Lady CiCi's fingers brushed against the scales just under her helm. The room lurched, and she had to grip the edge of the bar to keep from toppling.

Ugh. Not only was she buzzed from the strong and deceptively sweet wine, panic was starting to make her lightheaded, as if she'd pushed herself too hard underwater. It had probably been a good thing that she'd spilled the last of her drink - unlikely as it was that anyone had tampered with it. Or at least, she could only hope nobody had.

She stood up, away from Lady Cici's reach, staggering slightly. "I certainly hope not," she replied, glancing at the table in the corner, the wine across the surface an ominous red stain. As if she needed something else to fuel her anxiety - even though this was exactly how she reacted every fucking time a thunderstorm broke out, because she had yet to get over herself. And now she'd gone and alarmed Alyson, who cast a worried look around and asked if everyone was physically alright.

"I'm... ugh... fine though," Claria tried to reassure both CiCi and Alyson. What a bad time for her voice to become strained from the pang that radiated from her left collarbone. "It's nothing." Even so, she couldn't help checking around to make sure everyone else was alright. Who was to say Moonfruit's drink had been the only contaminated one?

Well, the fresh beverage was ready, albeit a questionably bright shade of purple. If someone had meddled with any ingredients, Lady CiCi would be able to tell everyone, as long as her written words had been truthful. Tension coiling tighter in the pit of her stomach, Claria watched.

[El]

Hmn. Honestly, it was almost admirable how staunchly the nauseated Zora was sticking to her story. Even the simplest of little critters would've been able to see through her shoddy 'composure', her assurances as feeble and shaken as her legs were - a fact Claria surely knew - and yet... still she held the same tune. The acting was awful, but the heart was there - struggling though it was. At first the lady thought it an odd thing to do, but the primal danger of the whole situation quickly dawned on her. Ah. Aaah, indeed. If SHE had been caught in such a precariously vulnerable state before a culprit had been shackled, she'd be trying her best to cover her weaknesses too. It was simply instinct.

Ciel made no motion to pursue the inquiry any further: especially when Alyson picked up the hunt to question everyone else as well. A few more prods - physical or verbal - probably could've caused the aquatic-warrior to crumple to the floor, but that little tingle of sadistic whimsy was quickly squashed and forgotten when Sable produced her finished elixir.

"If you're sure this won't harm you, Lady CiCi, it is ready."

-and goodness gracious it was VERY purple.

A shocked laugh almost lurched right out of her throat, but she contained it, lips pursed in bemused curiosity as she plucked up the vial and swirled it before her wide eyes. Had she perhaps used... monster extract...? It did seem to be something of a fad amongst food connoisseurs as of late: as if the kneejerk shock factor and vibrant colour didn't already make it easily marketable, there was also the element of a gamble in its peculiar taste. An exciting ingredient to be sure. Buuuut... Sable hadn't mentioned it earlier. Or at least, Ciel hadn't heard her list it.

Ah well, such a thing wasn't going to sway her decision regardless.

So Ciel tilted the vial towards her nose. Then, a few inquisitive twitches of her little nostrils later, the young noble leaned back her head and DOWNED the entire vial in one full swig. Uncouth behaviour? Perhaps. But once one made a choice you had to commit, lest you dampen the full effects of its consequences.

The consequences being.........?

......................................................................?

....

Huh.

A spare hand splayed across her mouth when Ciel straightened back up, her hard swallow inaudible but certainly visible as the potion throbbed down her slender throat. Her lush, crimson eyelashes lowered as a mist of thought glazed over her eyes. Behind the cover of her hand, she smiled.

This was unexpected. Though perhaps that was exactly why she SHOULD'VE expected it. There she had been mocking these people for their ignorance of commonplace murder tropes when all along-...

Ha!

When the light returned to Ciel's gaze - like a curtain lifted - it settled upon Sable, flickering and flashing hot. The hand at her mouth descended, just enough so that her thumb could brush an errant droplet from the corner of her lips and lick it clean. A sharp smirk bared her teeth.

'The darkest place is always under the candle's flame.'

Sable, Sable, Sable, whatever am I going to do with you~? Ciel's eyes narrowed - keened. Was the Rito simply a fantastic actress, or did she truly not know...? Even now, many moments later, Ciel could still feel the syrupy-sweet liquid churn in the hollow caverns of her innards like a liquor freshly decanted into a gourd. It was viscous, heady, cloying, lapping against the walls for gaps in which to seep and chips for it to fill. No wonder the bird dropped dead: a sedative this strong could probably have knocked out a dragon! Thank goodness her shell was simply that - a shell. Toiled as the elixir did, gurgled as it might, there were no physical organs for it to paralyse and shut down. She was a doll. Hollow. An elaborate, magical creation of a doll, but a doll nonetheless: a container with which her spirit was bound to the physical and tactile planes of sensation, and nothing more. She certainly didn't digest things like this anyway.

Ciel laughed.

At first it was just a faint giggle, a tickle of a few bells deep in the pits of her throat. But eventually, in almost no time at all, the melody bellowed into greater volumes that shook her slender frame and bloomed small tears in the corners of her crinkled eyes. They glittered, as did the breath that misted past the cover of a small fist, faint in its pastel-lilac and sparkling-... or perhaps that was simply a trick of the light.

She needn't write anything. Not even a rudimentary drawing was needed really. And though it DID bring the Ꞗ̸̟̌█̶̧͝▄̴̹́ҏ̴̭͘▄̶̋ͅ▄̷̙̚  lament to turn on her like this, all future dreams of more drinks spurned and her chest heavy with the sorrow of such a delicious loss, Sable could have just killed her. And y'know, Ciel figured that was probably not an acceptable thing to just shrug off.

So she smiled, sweetly. Tilted her head to one side, coyly. And from the reclined rest of her chin in one palm, she raised her other hand to point a finger directly at Sable's colourful chest. The accusation was blatant.

[Emily]

There was something detached in Sable's glance as she watched Lady CiCi take the vial, sniff at it, and then quaff the entire thing in one go. It could be expected that a bartender wouldn't think twice at someone taking a shot in her own bar. Her eyes narrowed slightly as Lady CiCi seemed to have some sort of terrible reaction to the concoction, almost shutting down and rebooting in front of all of them, before fixing her gaze back on the Rito.

Finally, the accusatory point. There was a smugness in Ciel's expression and movements that appeared to bother Sable more than could probably be expected. She started at the implication, the feathers around her neck and atop her head spreading, seeming to extend. She drew herself up to respond. "If you intend to accuse me of wilfully killing someone, at least have the decency to use your words."

In that moment, the Rito's pride was on full display for the people assorted in her bar. Her bar. She had built a business up from nothing, pouring drinks for the Gerudo in the desert for years before finally- recently!- moving to Castle Town to expand her clientele. She had put in countless hours for this, and if her behaviour was anything to go off, wouldn't dare be brought down by the most suspicious person in The Dragon's Roost.

Even so, the gears were beginning to turn in her head. Burning eyes turned from one person to another in the pub, but no, there was no world where Alyson did this, or Claria. They were either too innocent, or good enough actresses to allow this magically impervious being to just come in here and accuse her of all people of doing this. "How do we know-" she began, than sighed. "It doesn't matter," she continued, "the authorities will be here momentarily, I don't have to take this. At that point, they can do their investigation and figure this out once and for all." All your little games will be at an end at that point.

[LuckyBlackCat]

Between Lady CiCi pointing the finger of accusation with a smirk, and Sable puffing her feathers up in response, the tension was quickly reaching the heights of Wellspring Island. Her training kicking in once more, Claria raised her head, drawing herself to full height.

Ugh. Too fast. The room whirled and tilted, making her teeter like a Hinox hit with a muddle bud. Everything blurred, sounds growing momentarily distant and garbled, before sharpening back into focus. She drew in a shallow breath through gritted teeth, and spoke up.

"Alright, first of all." Her pointed glare settled on the rather too amused Lady CiCi. She flared her lights for emphasis, only for them to flicker, ruining the effect. "What did you find in that drink?" She shifted her attention to Sable. "And... The ingredients. Where did you get the ingredients from? Who else..." Another lightning bolt. Another gasp left her lips. "Wh-who else handled them?"

At this point, she could no more hide the tremble in her voice than the one wracking her entire body. Putting up a cool and collected air in order to de-escalate the situation wasn't working, but even so, she stepped in between CiCi and Sable. And promptly tumbled to one knee, her legs about as stable as Chuchu jelly.

"Ngh... Shit." That wine had been quite some strong stuff. Had it even been just wine? If Sable was the culprit, then... Claria didn't want to think about it. She tried to stand, but every movement set her head spinning again. The murmuring voices blended into each other in the background, yet the ever-present thunderclaps remained as horribly clear as ever. "Get. A Fucking. Grip."

Had she just spoken her inner self-flagellation aloud? She cringed. Now CiCi and Sable would think the verbal lashing was directed at them and their conflict. She opened her mouth to remedy the situation, but couldn't bring herself to speak, ribs too tight, throat too dry.

All of her lights faded to dull glimmers as the floor rose up.


At the accusation, Alyson's thoughts raced. She gave a tense shake of her head. No, this wasn't right, this whole thing was off. She'd prepared herself, however reluctantly, for the possibility that Sable may be the murderer. Yet even if that were the case, why would she make a second poisoned drink and incriminate herself? It made no sense.

"We can't jump to conclusions here!" She stared over at Lady CiCi, whose face bore the most sickly-sweet of smiles, completely at odds with the gravity of the situation.

Claria stepped in to quell the rising conflict, only to slump to one knee, her physical state deteriorating by the moment. Leaping to her feet, Alyson rushed over and crouched by her side. "Claria...?" She reached out to help her stand, only to gasp and gape in horror as the Zora collapsed.

"Ah! Claria!" No, no, no, was all Alyson could think as she caught the warrior before she could hit the hard floor. Not again. Not two victims in one night. Biting her lip, fearing the worst, she lowered Claria to the ground and felt her wrist just above her bracer. A shuddering breath of relief burst from Alyson as she picked up on the steady thrum of a pulse.

"She's alive!" she announced. "Claria, can you hear me?" The Zora's chest rose and fell, and the rhythm continued in her veins, but she remained unresponsive. Think fast, Alyson mentally yelled at herself. An incident during Gerudo Town's rebuilding came back to her. Recalling how people had responded when a volunteer had passed out from dehydration in the desert heat, she positioned Claria on her side with the utmost of care. "It'll be ok, the authorities will get here soon, they'll be able to find out what really happened."

No, it wouldn't be ok. Someone was dead. And now someone else was unconscious. But this was what she was supposed to do if a person wouldn't respond, wasn't it? Keep talking?

"The sooner they get here, the better." Alyson gave Sable a desperate look. "What did she eat or drink?"

[El]

Sudden. Sharp. Burning. Sable's seething response to the accusation struck Ciel like a slap to the face.

While the doll shrunk, the Rito grew, an already imposing figure expanding in height and girth as her plumage bristled. She was the Queen, and this was her Roost.

The flinch which had plucked at the strings of Ciel's features continued to sting, the wince searing hotter with shame. It didn't cool with time. It just fermented, the scrutiny of their company adding kindling to the fire as it burned in the pits of her twisting stomach. 'The decency to use her words' huh. Dainty, pearly teeth bit down on her tongue. Her pale hands curled up into tight fists. Her amusement was dead.

It didn't take long after that for an uproar to break out across the gathered crowd. Sable's retort had signalled the end of a tense silence and the beginning of a chaotic chorus. The Zora started firing questions. The Hylian attempted to mediate. And amidst all of the noise and the panic and the claps of thunder, another body hit the floor.

...

A hush emerged anew below the steady thrum of pouring rain on the window panes, sighs of relief washing through spectators when Alyson announced that Claria was in fact not actually dead. The poor young woman was clearly floundering in waters out of her depth as she attempted to apply some form of aid to the unconscious Zora, but she was doing well despite it: her voice was one of reason, stilling the tides of anxiety before they boiled back up again.

Ciel drew in a deep, bracing breath.

Like a petulant child who'd been scorned by a once favoured parent, so many varieties of revenge had raced through her mind in those few, short moments. Some were petty. Some were violent. Others were just downright malicious. Fortunately Claria's collapse had derailed those thoughts, just long enough for her to reign in her emotions and think more logically about all of this.

"What did she eat or drink?"

Ciel wasn't listening anymore. Not really. She removed herself from the conversation both mentally and physically, quietly standing up from her stool and collecting the pair of sodden gloves she'd left on the counter. Towards the roaring fireplace she quietly strode, standing there to wring out the black satin and warm her hands.

She should've expected Sable's reaction. Even if she HAD manufactured this entire situation - been the mastermind behind the whole plot - only a fool would actually confess there and then and go down the rabbit hole of a villainous monologue. This wasn't some cheesy opera, it was real life. People's day-to-day didn't just end with the fall of crimson curtains, they had more to live for and more to fear.

Something in the pits of her stomach gurgled, and Ciel sighed.

Messy. Everything was so tangled now. She wanted to leave and be done with it all, her patience having promptly evaporated with the last of her amusement, but there were too many witnesses to her presence here - her name, even - and pulling a disappearing act would only cause more trouble down the line. A scandal would add more allure to Ciel's name, but she had no desire to drag her family into this as well.

Then was she to simply stand there and wait? Sulking at a far wall like a naughty child in time-out?

Ciel's brow furrowed, and she splayed her fingers out to catch more of the fire's cackling warmth. Behind pursed lips her tongue traced her teeth, idly at first, only to notice - with an enlightened pause - a syrupy film. Well, if worse comes to worst and the officers don't believe me, I suppose a deep kiss will suffice. It would be dangerous, but not lethal. Hopefully whichever fresh face turned up at the door was handsome, or at least pretty.

[Emily]

It was almost as if Sable hadn't noticed Claria until the Zora stepped between her and Lady CiCi. To be fair to her, Claria hadn't spoken much until Sable was otherwise preoccupied with creating a second vial of the vile decoction. At that point, she could be forgiven for being entirely focused on other things. After all, who wouldn't be stressed to the point of distraction or hyperfocus when there was a dead body within their professional establishment. Unless something could be properly and cleanly determined at the end of this terrible night, the Dragon's Roost was likely to go out of business.

But her focus zeroed in once Claria stumbled. "And... The ingredients. Where did you get the ingredients from? Who else... Wh-who else handled them?"

Still antagonised to a point of distress, Sable's stance hardly softened. She opened her mouth to answer, only to be preceded by the Zora passing out on her floor. As Alyson, ever the go-getter in situations like this, attended to Claria and announced her presence among the living, Sable seemed frozen in place. Her eyes darted from Claria to Moonfruit, two patrons crumpled onto the floor of her establishment. A desperate confusion appeared in her expression, suddenly all frayed nerves.

"What did she eat or drink?"

Sable's mouth was dry, her response a quiet, strained monotone. "Voltfruit wine. Anything else wasn't from me. I... don't know what's wrong with her. Perhaps she needs water." She absentmindedly poured water from a chilled, previously unopened container below the counter and placed the glass near Alyson.

"As for her question," the Rito continued, "the potion contained wellwater, honey from one of the farms outside the city, some different ground fruits to assist with the flavouring, and colouring from..."

She trailed off, but sat hard on one of the barstools. Her eyes raced, looking at nothing in the room, her mind clearly attempting to work something out. After a moment, she placed her head in her hands. "I don't think anyone's coming."

[LuckyBlackCat]

Claria's eyelids fluttered open. "Ungh..." It was with utter dismay that she found herself on the floor, curled on her side, a distressed Alyson leaning over her. She eased herself into a sitting position, a shudder running through her, one of shame this time.

She'd passed out. She'd gone and PASSED THE FUCK OUT, causing unnecessary panic and slowing down the investigation. She put her head in her hands, the webs covering her face. "How long was I out? Is this... Is this whole debacle any closer to getting solved?"

She lowered her hands, glancing around the room. Even before anyone replied, she knew the answer was no. Although her vision doubled a little, she spotted Lady CiCi sulking by the fireplace, away from everyone else. Sable sat slumped on a barstool, thoroughly dejected. And nobody had arrived to examine the corpse on the floor. The situation hadn't escalated at least, but the hushed, despondent atmosphere that had taken the place of the argument was hardly much better.


As Claria groaned and sat up, Alyson nearly laughed with relief. "Whew, you had us scared for a moment!"

She eyed the glass of water Sable had placed on the counter, mentally debating whether or not to risk giving it to Claria. If dehydration had been a factor in her collapse, that had to be especially bad for a Zora, but there was no telling whether or not the water was safe. She decided against it, as much as it pained her to show suspicion towards Sable and add to her stress. Even if Sable turned out innocent, would their friendship be ruined beyond repair?

"You were out for a minute or so," she responded to Claria, hoping the brevity of her unconsciousness meant it was nothing serious - yet she couldn't help but wonder if the fast recovery was a sign the Zora had faked it, for the purpose of distraction and deflecting suspicion. "As for your other question... Not yet, although the authorities should be here any second. A doctor will be able to check you over, and the guard will figure this out in no time."

Her hopes of such a thing happening, however, sank with each glance towards the closed door. Sable, too, despaired of the disaster getting resolved any time soon, face pressed into her wingtips.

"I don't think anyone's coming."

Something occurred to Alyson. Something that, in hindsight, seemed surprising that nobody had considered while suspecting each other. "The patron who left to find someone..." She recalled the unassuming, grey-bearded man seated at a table near the bar. "Bob, was it? Is there any way he could have been involved in this?"

[El]

Delicate fingers combed through sodden ringlets, teasing apart the tangled knots while the folks behind her worked themselves into them. It felt like everytime a breath was caught - a glimmer of relief tasted - it was quickly swept away. On and on it went. Claria recovered, only to fluster into another disappointed panic. Alyson cracked a joke, only to pointedly turn aside the offered water. Sable's responses were factual and professionally dry, only for her to crash upon a stool - defeated. Ciel sighed, the repetitive tedium was beginning to grind on her nerves.

Enough. She was bored of sulking. It was time to change the tune.

Collecting her damp gloves from off the fireplace's mantel, she slipped them back on with a slight grimace of discomfort and began brushing out any imperfections in her attire. It was evident to those close to her that she was preparing for her departure, though she paid the judgemental pressure of their stares no mind. Well, until she was forced to acknowledge them.

"HEY there, Missy!" Snarled one patron, snatching at her wrist as she went to stride past. She was yanked to his side, her balance stuttering. "We can't have you leaving just yet! No-one can leave!"

Oh. He regretted it at least. Ciel saw the flinch of concern flash through his tired eyes as she winced. Yet he didn't relinquish his grip - he couldn't. Panic might've made the gesture violent, but the driving force behind it was still legitimate.

It stung. And it only hurt more when CiCi tried to twist her arm free: her slender joints grinding against his steeled vice of a hand. It wasn't as if she had the strength to fight off a man of his size anyway, but he wasn't allowing even one inch of ease. He couldn't risk it apparently. He just tightened it, firming his lips when tears began to bud in the corner of the young lady's round, glistening eyes.

Fine.

"Look, we're all feelin-MRNPH!!" Wood clattered and a toppled beaker crashed as all of a sudden his lips were sealed - by Ciel's. The kiss was so completely unexpected that it took him what felt like an eternity to register the truth of it all, his eyes wide with shock. And those precious few moments of hesitation were all she needed.

Up into him, deeper, harder, she pressed her lips, working his mouth open with ardent enthusiasm. For all his earlier bravado and intimidating physique he still stumbled - heh - collapsing back against the bracing support of a table. At first he tried to fight it - knowing this wasn't right, that SOMETHING was up - but my what a fluttering, fleeting thought that was. Barely had the reluctance entered his mind did it then slip away, the sweet taste of Ciel's breath and the erotic motions of her tongue as it twined with his melting away all his inhibitions. Despite his better judgement he surrendered to her, face ablaze and pleasure groaning in the pits of his throat. He felt his heart thunder against the roar of storm outside as the 'lady' clawed handfuls of his shirt, stoking his fires ever hotter. The more he tasted, the sweeter she became. Deeper he wanted to drink, and freely Ciel gave. She was all his for the taking. Every. Last. Drop. Then, just as he was about to reach out for her small waist, to circle his grasp around her, clutch her in even harder with an appetite so fiercely carnal it was nigh feral, a haze began to cloud his mind.

...Three strikes of lightning later, he was on the floor.

He would've cracked his head too, but thankfully Ciel wasn't that heartless - a swift, gloved hand saved him from that fate. So downwards he slumped uninterrupted, into a deep and blissful sleep: the polished floorboards for a pillow and the thick tension of the air his blanket. Surely the thundering tides of rain outside would make for a pleasant lullaby also.

For a moment the Blue Fairy was concerned she'd murdered the brute, as he laid there as still as death itself - a corpse of impressively-large quarry at her feet. BUT her keen eyes soon caught the stirring of his chest. The soft drift of his hair. He was breathing, yes, just very slowly, and with lethargic labour. He'd live. ...Probably. Hopefully.

Well, that wasn't her concern anymore anyway. With a click of her tongue she rubbed a gloved thumb across her mouth, wiping off the unwelcome moisture of a stranger. He hadn't been a bad kisser at least, she mused quietly to herself, as she stepped around the dozing babe with the soft clink of her boot heels.

Within moments she had strode towards the door of The Dragon Roost's Pub, as it rattled against the howling storm, and collected her umbrella. A few tip-taps, a little whirling spin, then SNAP she popped it open and lifted it above her darling head - casting a veil of black-shadow lace across her golden eyes. She turned back to her audience with a sweet, cautionary smile: equal parts genuine amusement and simmering irritation.

Rest assured,

She wrote, with a whimsical spiral of an elegant finger: taking care to inscribe the letters large and clear for all to see with ease. Thankfully their luminosity assisted in that endeavour, blooming them bright against the dismally bleak backdrop of drowned city streets. Eugh. It was truly horrid out there.

I shall return shortly.
You have my written word.

With a wry, quiet humour Lady CiCi even signed her name below it, giving her statement an exquisitely ornate stamp of authenticity.

[Emily]

Sable took a second to collect her thoughts after her statement. The food colouring, the purple dye, had come from a local who experimented in delightful and silly foodstuffs. Even his name, Robert McKenzie Nightbloom, was whimsical. Bob, as he liked to be called, had been one of the first to welcome Sable to the still-building city. He thought it was delightful to see a new pub opening up, especially in the same district as his alchemist shop. He had come by every night since she opened the pub a couple weeks ago, getting the same drink and chatting with the other locals when they showed up.

Wait.

It was possible she was overanalysing a memory in this moment, but there had been a suspicious moment early on in their interactions. When she had mentioned she was an alchemist herself, and hoped to get into the potion market, he had faltered. Had that been anger? Suspicion? She hadn't thought anything of it at the time, because he played it off so casually, expressing his surprise given the quality of her establishment as it was. But when she had entered his shop a few days ago looking for some sort of dye that would make her new energy drink more interesting, he had steered her away from the bright green she had been viewing, and instead produced a small tincture of purple powder. "Don't forget," he had said, "any less than a tablespoon per 200ml of product won't produce the exciting colour you're looking for."

In the moment, she had chalked that up to a proper salesman hoping to run her out of the dye quickly, so that she would have to buy more. After all, it had cost 50 rupees for just that small amount. But she was a businessperson and was able to spare that much for an experiment. So on her test vial, she had used a teaspoon, much less than he had recommended, just to see. And it had produced a lively purple, even with that much.

But... but she had accidentally used more than his recommended amount in the vial she had handed to-

A clatter, a struggle, the aggressive pushback from another customer as Lady CiCi attempted to leave. Sable looked up, pieces coming together in her mind, in time to see the struggle turn in a direction she could not have foreseen, ending with the longer-standing patron on the floor. She jumped up from her seat, energy returning in this new moment of clarity. The enigmatic visitor ended near the doorway, stating her intention to follow up on the authorities, even as she clearly waited to see if anyone would stop her from doing so.

Sable rushed to the fallen patron, checking to see if he was alright. He was clearly breathing- quite heavily too, someone would have to have a chat with him on healthy relationship expectations- so she looked up and nodded. "I suspect Bob had something to do with all of this. Please hurry, we should be able to salvage most of the situation."

She sighed, unsure of herself for a moment. "If the business makes it out of this," she said, "and you can forgive me for suspecting you, lifetime free drinks?"

Sable looked over toward Alyson and Claria. At the unused glass of water. A wave of nausea overtook her, in no small part due to the overwhelming anxiety of the situation. "The water should be fine, if you're worried. I'm..." she hesitated, "I'm not entirely sure it's the food colouring, which was only used for the potion, but I'm almost entirely certain. Either way, nobody present is responsible for what happened tonight."

Except me.

[LuckyBlackCat]

As a fresh commotion broke out, a patron forcefully restraining Lady CiCi from leaving, Claria staggered to her feet. "You heard him! Ugh..."

Everything teetered and whirled so fiercely, Claria thought she'd either throw up or collapse again. She reached out, vaguely aware of the bar's wooden surface under her grip. Once the dizziness passed, she stared in bewilderment as the man drastically changed his attitude towards Ciel, the two of them passionately making out despite the circumstances.

Well, that had been an unexpected turn of events. Even if Lady CiCi was plenty attractive and knew it, this guy had to be pretty desperate to do that with the most suspicious person in the pub, especially considering... the toxic residue in her mouth.

Oh shit.

"What the fuck do you think you're..." Claria lurched forward. Too late. The man slumped to the ground, and for an awful moment, Claria feared the worst until she saw the slight, struggling movement of his chest. If anything proved Lady CiCi to be the most likely suspect, however, this was it, especially as she made to leave unfazed by what she'd just done.

Stumbling forward, Claria gripped her by the shoulders. Although she kept her grasp as firm as she could, in case Lady CiCi tried kissing her, or biting her, or anything of the sort, her hands trembled with each lightning strike. "Don't think you're making a break for it that easily!"

It was only the words of Sable, who attended to the unconscious patron, that made Claria loosen her grip. The dawning, horrified realisation in the Rito's tone. The near-certainty that Bob, who'd supposedly left to get help, had been the one behind this all along.

Letting go of Lady CiCi's shoulders, Claria headed over and knelt by the patron's side, more heavily than she'd intended. She grunted as her knees stung from the impact. "The food colouring... What's going on with it?" She'd thought it a particularly garish shade of purple, and in hindsight, she should have supected such an ingredient. "What did Bob do?"

Glancing at the counter, she considered risking the water to clear the fog in her mind, but it was best not to until someone confirmed the food colouring contained the lethal substance.


As soon as the man collapsed, Alyson rushed over along with Sable, biting the inside of her lip while she took in his condition. Laboured breaths stirred his chest, but other than that, he remained motionless. Moving him onto his side as she had with Claria, with no small amount of effort due to his bulk, she looked over at Sable - who not only held no ill will towards her or anyone here, but asked if they could forgive her. She'd never seen the confident businesswoman look so utterly defeated.

With a trembling smile, Alyson nodded. She couldn't blame Sable in the slightest for her suspicion - it was, after all, part of her duty as a business owner to get to the bottom of this. She could only hope Sable would still be a business owner by the end of the night. "If you can forgive me for getting so wary myself, yeah that'd be great." Not that Alyson would drink or eat anything dyed purple any time soon. At least not until Bob, if he was indeed the killer, got caught.

She jumped up, her worried glance shifting between Sable, the sleeping patron, and Lady CiCi. "I can go! A good strong tailwind will help in this weather." She headed to the door and made a sweeping motion with her hands behind her, stirring up a little gust, proving to the others here what she meant. Creating enough of a breeze to help her run faster would take a great deal of energy against the howling wind of the storm, but not only did Sable need the authorities, an emergency had just arisen. There wouldn't be a second death here if she could help it.

[El]

A jolt shook through Ciel's frail frame as two rough hands clapped down on her shoulders. Eyes wide, heart flipped, she pursed tight her lips so the shaky breath didn't slip out. Yes, she had seen Claria coming. Yes, she had suspected as much given the determined violence which had flashed through the Zora's glare. But having forewarning didn't make it any less jarring - or more pleasant.

It was with effort that she stood her ground, expression steeled into a cold mask of trained composure. The slight smirk painted. The goading laughter in her returning glare silent and hollow. Even if the warrior clearly wasn't in her best form, the stark differences in their physiques was painfully apparent. ...But she did have her weaknesses. Everyone did.

Hmmmmm~, something to do with the storm perhaps?

It was true that Claria flinched at every cue of thunder. In fact, now that Ciel cared to pay her more attention she noted the timing of her trembling, how the clap of every lightning strike started afresh the shudder of her clawed fingers. With a subtle tilt of her head, the prisoner allowed her eyes to drift, clueing onto the unique scarring of the Zora's jawline... down her neck... disappearing into the sweaty high-collared fans of her shell armour. Perhaps she was simply reading into things too much, by remarking on the absence of the usual silver plating, but no. No... her instincts tickled. A gamble worth taking? Maybe.

Regardless, it instilled within CiCi a renewed flicker of courage - of confidence. The tension in her stinging shoulders eased. The irregular throbbing of her heart began to race to an entirely different beat. Perhaps she'd spent the last of her literal venom on the crumpled patron, but poison could come in many forms. She would NOT be manhandled like this again - not without due consequence. But, just as her lips began to part, peeling over the sharp glint of her pearly whites-

Claria let go.

...

...Anti-climatic, much? Ciel was almost disappointed!. No, scratch that, she was OFFENDED: she lost interest in her that quickly...? REALLY?! With a pout she watched the Zora leave, taking entirely too long to truly process what Sable had announced to the whole establishment.

Bob? Bob who? Bob had left? Oh. Oh right, someone had been sent earlier. Ciel hadn't cared enough about him to even remember his face though, so every detail was murky - lost to entirely unremarkable shrouds of fog.

...He certainly sounded more interesting now though. Clearly he was not as simple a fellow as his bland name and blander features made him out to be. My, how incredibly devious~.

She would remember Bob now.

"I can go! A good strong tailwind will help in this weather."

Absently Ciel had been twirling her umbrella - delicate fingers fondling the handle in wretchedly deep thought - but the slow rotations of the lace trim and its shifting shadows drew to an abrupt halt when Alyson leapt before her. She was rambling on about something to do with wind then gestured with her hands. The enthusiasm was oddly adorable - and Ciel deeply appreciated NOT being grabbed for a third time - but her peculiar choice of phrasing was what raised her eyebrows. She blinked at her. A few times.

...Was she hiding a featherduster of plumage inside her clothes or something? What in Great Kaysa's name did a tailwind have to do with a Hylian? Was she-... going to FLY?! Like that?! Dubiously, Ciel narrowed her eyes and despite her better judgement she possessively tightened her grasp on her umbrella: it was her favourite one, and newest one, and for some reason she couldn't get those children's stories of a flying nanny and her magical parasol out of her mind.

...

Well, whatever. Alyson looked too determined to convince otherwise - it'd be a tiresome endeavour. If she truly insisted on blasting herself out into the wrath of the storm like some hero invigorated with the 'power of friendship', then she may have that glory. Ciel didn't like getting wet anyway. Hopefully she won't end up splattered on a windowpane. That wouldn't be pretty.

Withholding a sigh the young lady pulled a lopsided smile of defeat. Rather than simply shrugging her shoulders she instead performed an elegant and oh-so-demure curtsy before stepping aside to free the centre-stage for Alyson's taking. The door was clear now. And with a satisfying rustle and click, Ciel closed her umbrella and settled down in a nearby seat.

Crossing her ankles, her attention drifted then towards the unconscious man on the floor and the beautiful Rito who tended to him. The patron was still breathing - good. Sable looked almost just as worse for wear however. Leaning onto the support of a small fist, Ciel began to ponder if she'd bother helping to save this establishment or not. The night HAD been an unforgettable - and inspiring - experience. But it also definitely hadn't been entirely pleasurable.

...But I suppose a little pain and discomfort is what makes such things fun, no? What's life without a little spice.

[Luca]

"The food colouring... What's going on with it? What did Bob do?"

Sable watched as Alyson usurped the position of 'she who will leave the premises and get help' before turning back to Claria. She hesitated for a moment before answering. "I met Bob shortly after moving here. He runs a confectionery-alchemy shop in the district. I went to his shop to buy some food colouring for the potion, because I thought it would be a fun idea, and he convinced me to use this purple powder instead of what I was originally going to use. He'd pulled it from a drawer in his back room, which I should have been more suspicious of. But because he'd already come into the pub, I assumed he was giving me a good deal."

She laid the patron's head gently onto the floor of the pub- unfortunate, considering the floor would require a good scrubbing due to the mud and water everyone's boots had smothered around, but there weren't exactly beds here- and quickly popped to the back of the shop before returning with the purple powder vial. She took it to the bar, the most well-lit space in the entire pub, and examined it through the glass. "It will take me some time to properly analyse it, but I'll work on that as soon as everything else is taken care of here. The only other ingredients were well water, which comes from the city's supply, and I haven't heard of anyone else being poisoned. And then there was honey produced from a local hive, which is officially purchased for mead, which eight people here have drank even tonight."

Three people still in the pub suddenly blanched, though they weren't dead by any measure. Sable continued. "Given that those ingredients are used in other things, and this particular vial was only used in a potion and its recreation, both of which had an effect, leads me to believe it has to be this."

But...

"Hold on," she paused, muttering to herself. "I tested this. I tasted this to make sure it wouldn't clash with the honey flavour for the potion. It was a couple days ago, but... no, it's definitely poisonous," she looked at Ciel. "Holly, milkweed, butterflies but they would require a heavy concentration... maybe nightshade?" She looked back at the powder, opened up the cork and poured some onto a spoon. If only she weren't a Rito, she'd be able to smell it. A little taste, then, a small bit. Yeah, no, it tasted fine, sweet but not in an overpowering way, almost like a dense sugar paste for complex cakes. The Rito looked back up at the no doubt confused room of patrons. "I think this is nightshade. It's extremely toxic to all of you, but not to..."

Moonfruit sat up. He turned his head 90 degrees to the left to a great snapping sound, and slightly further to the right to a slightly louder snapping sound. Then he looked straightforward and felt within him the return of a characteristically unnatural excitement.

"I have just come to a realisation!" he began. "Although many believe that the Yiga are assassins, this is disinformation originally sourced by Laurelin propagandists. In fact, the Yiga are a group of dedicated civil servants that run the Hyrule government from a under ground volcanic lair beneath Hebra. Some say that there are native Gorons there that have never left the underground out of feat that they will fall into the sky." Moonfruit stood up and walked to the still-open door of the pub. And then turned to face its many patrons.

"I am Moonfruit," he said extending his wings wide to showcase his feathers' unrivalled cyan resplendence. "I, who am born of the sky, must show the Gorons that there is nothing to fear from what is above us, and everything to be gained! Also, as the central location of the actual capital, I must go there to vote. Farewell and fare well."

It was then that the remnant momentum of the tailwind created by Alyson pulled Moonfruit, wings still wide, from the door of the Dragon's Roost, like a messenger container in a pneumatic vacuum tube.

"...Rito." Sable finished.

[LuckyBlackCat]

Lady CiCi gave Alyson a strange look, but stepped aside from the door. Grabbing her cloak and tugging it on as fast as she could, Alyson made to leave, trying to narrow her focus to the air currents that swirled around her hands and buffeted her back. It was bad enough that one person had died - in her stead, no less, as she would have otherwise been the one to sample the potion. Nausea roiled through her at the thought that she'd only get to live because someone else hadn't.

She was nearly at the doorway, close enough for rain to spatter her face, when the last voice she'd expected to hear brought her frantic footsteps to a halt. Gasps and murmurs from the patrons followed. The tailwind began to die down, the fluttering of her cloak's feathers slowing, as she spun round.

"Moonfruit?" She stared, flooded with shock and relief. The Rito, enthusiastically resuming his spouting of nonsense as if nothing had happened, stood up and headed to the exit. A trembling grin spread across Alyson's face. "Sky isles above, we thought the absolute worst just now! Are you feeling alright? You're not hurt, are you?"

The earlier thudding of his head against the bar had looked and sounded pretty nasty, but aside from the babbling - which Alyson suspected was normal for him - Moonfruit showed no sign of dizziness or any other ill effect. After turning to everyone and making his dramatic farewell, he spread his wings and took off into the night on what remained of the tailwind.

Well, that was a surprising - and fortunate - turn of events. Yet the chilling fact remained that a murder attempt had taken place here - and a patron still lay on the ground, at risk of dying for real.

"Hold on!" she called to Sable and the others, twirling her fingers behind her once more, whipping up another gust. "I'll get a doctor in any case!"


Although the thunderclaps kept wresting Claria's attention towards them, she took in the explanation. So it most likely was the food colouring, the purchase of which Sable blamed herself for. "It wasn't your fault," Claria reassured Sable, her tone much softer. "You couldn't have known."

She kept an eye on the unconscious patron as Sable headed back to the bar, yet continued to listen. From the sound of it... Had someone tried to sabotage her business? By betraying her trust and framing her for murder, of all things? Claria's lips pressed tight in disgust.

Sable's next words, utterly confused ones, made Claria look up. The Rito had tasted the powder without having suffered any detrimental effects, and proceeded to sample it a second time. Tension coiled in Claria's stomach as she watched, but Sable remained ever healthy, even as she identified the substance as nightshade.

Before the bartender could finish her sentence, a blur of blue feathers shot up. Claria stared over to see Moonfruit sitting upright, easing out the stiffness from his neck with loud popping sounds before rambling as if some great vision had come to him in a dream.

A multitude of questions tumbled over themselves in Claria's mind. How had he seemed so convincingly deceased? Had he faked it to mess with everyone? No, he couldn't have, Sable had checked his pulse, and his heart rate had been too weak to detect. And what did all this gibberish about Yiga, Gorons, underground lairs, reverse gravity, and government conspiracies have to do with anything?

The only response she managed to formulate was a single word. "What."

Still, watching him soar out of the pub, she couldn't deny the sheer relief that no death had occurred here... Yet. Her eyes turned back to the unmoving patron. This investigation had been the definition of a fuck-up, having put someone in more danger than the attempted murder had. Especially considering the amount of food colouring in Lady CiCi's potion.

"Well, that's one crisis averted. But thanks to a certain someone..." She cast a brief glare at Lady CiCi. "We now have another one on our hands."

[El]

Dumbfounded silence filled Ciel's lungs, the sharp gasp freezing her lips shut. With the widened eyes of a startled hare she watched as the Rito arose from his grave, a whole spiel of fantastical nonsense flooding her perked ears. She barely registered any of it. Mystified, she simply stared, observing his gait and mannerisms for any hint of struggle or discomfort and yet-... there was none. Nothing. He sauntered with ease and within seconds FLEW AWAY.

Just like that, he was gone. Not gone-gone as in dead, but simply-... departed.

...

A slow blink. Then several fast ones. Ciel felt her heart rate rise as her thoughts began to recollect, forming and stringing and bundling and knotting, twisting every other way and then that one too in order to perform the somersaults of logic this entire situation warranted. Eventually it proved too much. The pressure bubbled up and she laughed.

She couldn't STOP laughing either.

Once the seal was broken it continued to spill free; what began as a bewildered, awkward giggle quickly gushing into stronger tides of bellowing laughter. Oh how she roared! How it echoed! Her throat strained with the volume her chest craved and yet could not fulfill: occasional wheezes cutting short the higher, louder notes of amusement only for it to break into bellowing choirs once again. Still she laughed. She laughed and she laughed and she laughed some more. Tears budded, sparkling in the corners of her eyes. And when she finally keeled over - forgetting her life's worth of etiquette lessons - clutching at her aching stomach, the moisture streaked in glistening, literal rainbows down her flushed cheeks.

It hurt. It hurt so bad, but really now, how could she NOT laugh...? There hadn't been a murderer. There had NEVER been a murderer: until Ciel became the culprit.

It was her.

She was the one. What a plot-twist!

How on earth Sable didn't feel Moonfruit's pulse - or if she had lied about it all from the start. What in truth caused the feathered lunatic to collapse - or was he simply prone to abrupt naps. Was this Bob actually some calculating psychopath now on the run -  or was he just a guy struggling to find help in a storm. Would it have been better if she had played dead upon ingesting the potion herself. WAS it even the food colouring. What would have happened if she'd cared enough from the beginning and tried to connect with Moonfruit's 'wandering soul'.

None of that mattered. Not really. What was done was done, and Ciel had done it, all because she got curious about a drink and couldn't stand the thought of a violent man restraining her against her will.

Apparently that was all that was needed to qualify her as a villain.

The tremors of laughter eventually subsided, one last giggle of a breaking mind rasping past Ciel's glossed lips as she gasped for breath. Blinking away the tears she saw through the clearing blur that angry Zora again, glaring at her now. Again.

Ha. Fine. If she wanted her to be a bad guy, she'd be one. They'd made their minds up long ago anyway.

Battling the storm of spiteful fury and amusement that warred in her thundering chest, Ciel bit back her snarl and instead blew a kiss in Claria's direction. She made sure it was truly sultry too: lowered eyelashes, a suggestive smirk, the tip of her tongue trailing across her plumped lips like the flick of a serpent's fork. Then, with a bracing breath to collect the last stray scraps of her composure, Ciel uncrossed her legs and arose from her distant perch - abandoning her umbrella once more.

With sure, bold strides she moved back across the pub, pausing only once she reached the unconscious patron on the muddied floor. In truth she didn't really want to touch him again, but no, no this would make for the most amusing outcome and she couldn't leave now anyway - Alyson had claimed the hero role. Her redemption arc had been denied. So down she knelt, folding her legs below her before lifting up the man's turned head and settling it gently upon her lap. With pearly white teeth she nipped at the fingertips of her hand, peeling off the damp glove: maintaining eye contact with the haughty Zora as she did so, if the warrior insisted on giving her the stink. Ciel wouldn't do anything nefarious with the glove though - if such a thing was even possible - instead she folded it neatly upon the man's head, draping it in an attempt to cool him. With lowered eyes she watched him breathe herself. Indeed, he was breathing. Still.

Hmn. What sort of reaction would he have when - or if - he awoke and saw her face first?

What a ridiculous mess this all was. She should write a book on it all really.

[Emily]

Sable stared at the door for a moment, eyes squinted. She had just witnessed the most unlikely ending to a nightmare of a night, an unravelling of all criminal culpability and the miraculous resurrection of one of her patrons. She placed the cork back into the vial of powdered nightshade (probably) and placed it below the bar. Assuming the authorities didn't want to confiscate it, something significantly more likely now that there was a person under its effects but not necessarily guaranteed, she would run a proper analysis of it later and figure out something else to do with it.

A peal of laughter erupted from the corner. Sable turned to see Lady CiCi having something along the lines of a nervous breakdown, doubled over before falling to the ground with laughter. And the worst part? It was infectious: Sable found herself releasing a tittering laugh in response, though it was much more controlled. More astonishment in her case than genuine release.

After regaining her composure, Lady CiCi crossed to the Hylian and attempted to make his recovery more comfortable. An admirable gesture, and one that truly proved her character, at least to Sable. Apparently Claria didn't share in her character assessment, however, shooting a renewed glare toward Ciel. "We now have another one on our hands."

"How much did he get from you, if you have that sort of information?" Sable asked, circling back around the bar and coming to kneel next to Lady CiCi and the unconscious patron. "It takes quite a large amount of concentrated nightshade to kill an adult, though a small amount can do some damage. If it wasn't much, he'll likely be fine."

Sable turned to Claria, giving an apologetic smile. "And in Lady CiCi's defence, he did try to restrain her. I don't know that the method would be my first choice of reaction, but it was certainly effective."

The man's breathing was even, just a bit slow. His heartbeat- she was certainly able to feel it- was slowed and a bit shallow, but he didn't seem to be in any danger. From what Sable knew of nightshade poisoning- something all alchemists would end up learning in this sort of environment- the man would likely sleep off the lowered blood pressure, but have a long appointment with the outhouse the following day. She certainly didn't envy Hylians that particular weakness. Though she did envy their ability to taste spicy foods. They seemed to love that experience.

Either way, all that was left was to wait for Alyson to return, surely in a matter of moments.