Artemis’s Era is one of interest: so far removed from Lullaby’s own, yet so similar. Its Queen is much the same. She’s a fierce woman, never bowing or ceding, even sometimes at the cost of her own temper. And yet… despite those golden elaborate heels, she walks as silent as a shadow.

Lullaby has her suspicions. She has never voiced them.

The woman herself stands back faced to Lullaby, dressed down into a nightgown — good, they’re running the same time then. They finish the song at the same time, and Lullaby cannot help the small smile. If anything, it’s a comfort and pride that her namesake has lasted.

Lullaby waits for her to speak, but Artemis doesn’t speak. She stays silent as she crosses the room to the bedside. Lullaby tenses. A quick look at the door and she can see it’s deadbolted twice, as is the balcony. On the desk is what looks like a mountain of paperwork sorted into stacks and a tray of tea. A blue scarf is lain over the back of the chair. Nothing in the wardrobe, nothing under the bed, nothing lurking in the corners of the room. Lullaby stretches out her senses, but she only finds traces of Artemis’s light sorcery laid in careful wards (expected), faint Sheikah patterns that remind her of Impa (also expected), and faded swaths of Courage’s touch (none of her business.)

“Feeling like company?” Lullaby asks understandably. That’s not uncommon. Days are so busy, and it is nice to have someone who can understand. Sometimes she sits in while Dusk and Fable gossip over some such novel or another. She mostly relaxes when Artemis gives a considerate hum in response, and helps herself to inspecting the trinkets and books on the shelves.

“You said before you have experience with poisons, correct?” Artemis asks conversationally.

Lullaby nods lightly. “I do. Is someone troubling you? I can make it look like a mistake,” she offers, thumbing over a worn copy of War and Peace.

From her place by the ornate bed, Artemis gives a sharp laugh. Her braid sways as she sets her harp down on the bedside table with fond care. “Ha! I commit political espionage just fine myself, thank you.“ A considerate pause. “It’s kind of you to offer, but I need your expertise in other ways. I believe I have been — poisoned, I mean.”

Lullaby stills.

Even as she registers the sentence, her mind is already working overtime. Locked door, tea tray abandoned on the table… She glances at Artemis again, closer this time — no, her braid isn’t just swaying, she’s swaying.

Lullaby abandons her harp, bounding across the room just in time to catch Artemis stumbling. She firmly presses her into a lying position, finally getting a good look at the sweat beading down her neck. She runs through her mental checklist.

Already feverish.

Nail-beds bluish, not quite hypoxic yet.

It must be fast acting, if Artemis summoned her directly after it was consumed.

Lullaby unbuttons the collar of Artemis’s nightgown — she can apologize for the indecency later — and presses two fingers to her neck, and another two to her wrist. Pulse sluggish, growing more so by the second.

But not gone completely.

upper left quadrant (shoots the dog, wants to):

Echo: In the past, Echo probably would’ve fallen somewhere farther right, but after her 100+ year nap, she’s fallen into a pattern of self-destructive rage. She desperately wants to shoot the dog. The only thing holding her back is her love for Dawn and Hyrule, and the faded memories she has of home.

Artemis: Like Dusk, is bound by duty and would and has sacrifice much for her people. She’s also balanced in a precarious political state in a power-hungry court. Has a lot pent up rage, but ultimately wants to do good.

lower left quadrant (shoots the dog, does not want to)

Dusk: Bound by duty and her love for her Kingdom. If it’s the safest and most logical choice. She really does not want to shoot the dog, but she’s already given so much for her people. What’s one thing more?

Lullaby: It does not matter if she wants to shoot the dog. If shooting the dog will give her information she needs or further her goals, she will likely shoot the dog. The only reason she’s not fully there is because, like Echo, others people tend to influence her actions. More than she thinks they do.

upper right quadrant (wants to shoot the dog, doesn’t)

Dot: She’s sweet on the surface but has a vindictive eldritch side. On some level, she’s the executioner and has that sense of justice in her Wisdom. Ultimately doesn’t shoot the dog though because she chooses joy. (Also, wait long enough and the dog will eventually die on its own. Patience is key :))

Tetra: Lowkey curious about what would happen if she would shoot the dog. But I feel she’s not the type for needless violence? Theft and kidnapping, and if a person deserves it, sure, but living on such open, dangerous waters has cemented that she is not judge, jury, and executioner. The sea will get them first. Besides, killing for sport is likely to cause a lot more problems than it’s worth.

lower right quadrant (would not shoot the dog, doesn’t want to)

Flora: She’s already suffered through so much violence: her father, her friends, Link. At one point in her life, she would have shot the dog out of reluctant obligation. As it stands now, she chooses happiness.

Fable: Does not want to shoot the dog because she’s lowkey squeamish. While she is great at navigating through debates and court, and that requires some sort of cunning on her part, she also holds great empathy and understanding. She broke through to Hilda with her words alone. That’s enough.

Dawn: It’s Dawn. Does not want to inflict suffering, would not commit violence.

Phantom: While she’s strong and a bit of a freak (sorry Phantom you ain’t escaping the allegations), she falls more into a protector role. Would kill the dog if she has to, but if there is choice not to, she will try and dazzle. Also similar to Fable she’s a bit squeamish lol.

middle of the chart