#★. *･｡━━━ 🪤 stupid intruders ~ inbox

[accultant]

"let’s go skinny-dipping! i haven’t been swimming all summer." (katya doesnt understand bonding with ur sibling in law isnt the same as bonding with her wolf pack -)

━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ THE AGONY OF UNMADE DECISIONS

The paperwork on Iago’s desk is piled almost comically high and their pen has been moving non stop since long before Katya even weaseled her way into their office. 

They spare her only one quick glance, “No. I’m busy and I would probably catch pneumonia.” 

Despite it being well into the summer season, that’s mostly an excuse, partially a real concern. Iago runs cold all year and they get sick so frequently and easily that they worry even saying the word pneumonia will land them with a sore throat the next day. They’d blame it on their time spent underground, their immune system no doubt in shambles, but it’s always been that way. 

Besides, Iago can hardly remember the last time they went swimming at all; they certainly haven’t ever been or had the desire to go skinny-dipping. If they weren’t so focused on their work, Iago might even laugh at such a suggestion, considering Katya has never even seen Iago’s arms outside of their sleeves. The gall…

They continue writing, “Go by yourself. Or ask Puck. Or any of your…”What did she call them again? “Your pack.”

[accultant]

are you going to cold-shoulder me all night?

━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ THE AGONY OF UNMADE DECISIONS

Katya’s voice is on the other side of the door after Iago has changed the locks and the wards on it since Puck’s last… lapse. He nearly cracked their skull the other day in a frenzy and Iago has been holed up in their office since. The work keeps them busy. The solitude keeps them safe. 

They especially don’t want to talk to Katya of all people. Not after that. They don’t know if she was present during any of the mad dash around the Temple ( they were, admittedly, a bit too distracted to take note ) but it doesn’t make much of a difference. 

Iago escaped. As they somehow, inexplicably, painstakingly, repeatedly do again and again and again and again and again- 

They doubt Katya will last much longer here. Puck is fickle. Iago escaped this time, sure, but they’ve had a lifetime of practice. Katya pushes buttons for fun and doesn’t seem to take any of this seriously. She’ll be dead by the end of the week, they’ve convinced themselves after the twins’ latest altercation. 

They don’t want to talk to her, don’t want to see her, don’t want her anywhere near them. She’ll be nothing soon. So why bother with her now? Why entertain her a second longer? Interacting with her at all was a mistake, they knew it would be a mistake, they feel so stupid for ever even saying her name when they knew damn well they’d have to write it down in their ledgers with all the other victims. 

But Katya is insistent. Buttons, she’s always pushing buttons. Their voice snaps from the other side of the door, “Yes, I am. Go away.” 

They almost forget their excuse, the same one they’ve told her a million times now with very little success rate, “I have work to do. Go away, mutt.”

[accultant]

that's what you get from Miss Hexblood ♥

Iago's eyes grow more frog-like bigger than Miss Hexblood has ever seen them. They're immediately looking for their resident hellion, Steelclaw, and almost instantly forgetting that their neighboring seamstress is still in their shop. "Oh, right. Thank you, Babette," they call from halfway across the room. Steelclaw had found her way to a tall shelf, likely wary of the excitement in Iago's eyes.

"If you wish to stick around to see your latest garment put to use, you'll want to find something to hide behind. Your client is sure to draw blood while put this on her. I may lose an eye, too, but as long as I still have the one, should be fine."

[accultant]

blood, sender cleans blood off of receiver.

actions speak louder than words

Iago stares at forward, at some point above Amatista's shoulder, unblinking, not daring to so much as glance anywhere else for fear of seeing just how horrific they look. They never get dirty in a fight. They make a point not to. They can't handle it. This time was different - they were caught off-guard, pinned to the floor, and thankfully saved by their brother promptly cleaving their attacker in half.

All well now, after the fight. They were hardly injured, they were safe, the job was very efficient all in all. But they were drenched in gore.

They sat still other than the tremor in their fingers while Amatista takes their hands. Normally, they could manage this on their own. It's not the first time they've ended up in more viscera than desired ( the Bhaalists used to delight in a game of locking them in the oubliette or dunking them in the bloodpools and seeing who could escape without being burned alive in the aftermath ). But it was a lot.

"Just- if you could just help me clean my hands, that's all, I can deal with the rest." They devolve into a ramble, too quiet for anyone but Amatista to hear it, "The hands, first, so I can actually clean the rest of it off without simply spreading it around, I always make sure to clean the hands first. I can feel it on my face but if I touch it now, I'll only make it worse. And I need my hands to wash my hair, it's in my hair, too, and my clothes, but I can take care of that if you just get it off my hands, please-"

[accultant]

❛ you're not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜

Right, I'm so much worse, is their first thought, that is so insufferably dramatic, it makes even Iago roll their eyes. True as it may be, with all the secrets they hold desperately to their chest, the intimate knowledge they have of all they've done, of all they haven't done, of all their unending cowardice and fear. It still sounds needlessly edgy, though, and they'd be caught dead before they utter something so pathetic embarrassing.

"People have been talking about me? I'm flattered," they respond dryly.

That part isn't a surprise in the slightest. Brief moments where they forget themselves, let their walls down, remember to enjoy their company and the world around them, are always caught up with and dashed by their usual anxiety and paranoia. They hardly talk, and when they do, they have the tendency to forget how to hold a 'normal' conversation without a handful of well-crafted layers and guard. They've got a wretched attitude when they aren't playing those around them like a fiddle and donning a persona. Their secrets do little to make them seem welcoming when people try to bond with them. It's worse once the truths start coming out and their companions have started to learn, bit by bit, just how much Iago had been lying about. Whatever progress they had made with becoming slow, unlikely friends, was set back wildly when that bloodline of theirs came to light and questions became accusations of secret-keeping ( which are all perfectly justified, unfortunately ). All that to say, no, Iago is not surprised that people would talk about how bad they are.

Connor disagreeing with such is the surprising part.

But then, maybe he's just being sarcastic. Catty. And Iago is overthinking things again - another reason why they aren't exactly the most favorable conversation partner.

Iago spares them a glance, voice still monotone and unamused, "What makes you say that? Have I finally won you over?"

[accultant]

He's been staring at Iago the whole evening while they do whatever it is they do around camp. Sometimes his eyes seems to glaze over like he's losing himself in thought, and his gaze slides to the ground... but then he blinks, shakes himself, and resumes staring, until--- there's a sudden intake of air. "I KNOW!" He stands up so quickly he knocks over the tree stump he's been sitting on. "I KNOW WHERE I'VE SEEN YOU BEFORE. YOU'RE FUCKING BHAALSPAWN!"

Gatt had been watching them all night, they could see it from the corner of their eye, making them hyperaware of each movement, each casual bit of tidying they were doing, worried they were too stiff, overly casual, oddly unnatural- it was all a bit much to keep track of for the sake of looking Normal and Not Suspicious, so they decided their safest bet would be to hide away for the night and hope whatever interest he had would fade.

Their hopes are dashed by his exclamation and for a moment, they're frozen in their tracks, blood running cold, panic ringing in their ears. It's a blessing they're facing away from him, he doesn't see the terror that flashes across their face. They feel briefly, horribly ill as their fate is suddenly dangling over an abyss ( they really should be used to that by now, but it's their fault for getting a little bit of their hope back ).

Iago's first instinct is to open a dimension door beneath his feet, send him tumbling away to into the woods where no one could hear his accusations. Or perhaps off of a cliff - they think they remember passing by one that would do just the trick. Their hands start to twitch, even, but they curl them into fists before their wild magic makes any rash decisions for them.

Must he be so loud...

Instead, they fix their well-practiced, deadpan glare at Gatt, turning towards him and crossing their arms. Please, please, please, just drop it, I can't let it all fall apart now, it's a mistake, you don't know what you're saying, you don't know that, how would you know that?! Their panic is shoved forcefully down their throat and they speak monotonously, quieter than he, in the hopes he matches their tone before anyone else ( oh, gods, they're so dead, they'll be burned alive, Puck will be burned alive ) is alerted. "What ever are you going on about? Isn't it a bit late to be yammering like this? People are trying to sleep."

[accultant]

iago, stop tormenting everyone with puns.

" 'Tormenting?' " Iago scoffs, hand to the chest, offended. "It's hardly a pun-ishment! I don't share them with just anyone, you know. It's a pun-in-a-million chance to hear one of my delightful jokes."

hehehehehehehe,

"It isn't my fault that - heh - some may be pun-familiar with my sense of humor."

heehehehe, stupid-

"I guess no one-" hehe. "Pun-derstands me."

They let out a forlorn sigh and look off into the distance. A timely gust of wind assists their lament, "I suppose I'm doomed to forever be the odd pun out."

[accultant]

✍ : What is your muse’s handwriting like? Is it neat? Sloppy? Fancy?

☕ : Does your muse prefer coffee or tea?

━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ HEADCANONS !

✍ : What is your muse’s handwriting like? Is it neat? Sloppy? Fancy?

Iago's handwriting varies drastically. When working, they keep it at least neat enough so that they can read it again later ( though it gets a little messier when they're especially stressed or tired ). It's damn near perfect when when corresponding with others and very decorative and pretty. Their blackmail is written elegantly and with perfectly dotted i's and neatly crossed t's. A death threat you could frame. Example below:

But in their journal it's a nightmare. Their chicken scratch is hardly legible to even themselves. Beyond the mess that's going on otherwise, code and acronyms and alternating languages and shorthand and stream of consciousness, the handwriting alone is a complete mess. Horrendous and accurate example below:

☕ : Does your muse prefer coffee or tea?

They prefer coffee ( at all hours of the day ) but eventually grow fond of tea and enjoy learning about the different kinds and preparation. Post-BG3 Iago has an insane tea collection from one of their many phases of trying out as many hobbies and interests as possible to see what sticks since they realize they have none AKA speedrunning a personality. It's also better for their poor heart and anxiety with less caffeine than their usual 6 cups of black coffee a day, they come to realize.

[accultant]

ye better sit down afore ye keel over.

Iago waves their hand dismissively without even looking at her, "'M fine."

They are, in fact, very close to keeling over, which is why they hold onto the side of the ship with white knuckles while they precariously peer over the side. It's dizzying, it makes their legs all wobbly, and they feel a little lightheaded. Not that any of that is unfamiliar - they're unfortunately quite used to passing out at the sight of blood or the exhaustion from magic too heavily spent. But this time it's different. No, no, this light-headed, hardly able to stand feeling is one of amazement.

They lived in Baldur's Gate their whole life, most of that spent underneath the city. Why the hells would they care about the ocean? They've seen it, sure, in passing, but they've never really paid it any mind. They've never been on it! They didn't realize just how much of it there was !!

It's so vast. It's so beautiful. They've never seen anything like it. It fills them with such a sense of scale and wonder that they don't know what to do with themselves. Putting words to such a feeling feels impossible, so after a few more moments of staring, wide-eyed and mesmerized, they can only mumble a dumbfounded, "So much water..."

[accultant]

👚+ puck's cowboy hat

Dress my muse up!!

"OoOoOo look at me, I'm Puck, I'm tall and I bark like a dog and I wear silly little hats,"

[accultant]

you're not just a regular moron. you were designed to be a moron. (besties LOL)

━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ PORTAL 2 PROMPTS 

Katya likely will never understand just how literal and accurate that statement is, and Iago’s already thin patience ( always thin around Katya. like two bickering children ) is cut short at her stupid, dumb, annoying comment. Pretending as though they hadn’t been looking forward to this all day, Iago starts to look through their pockets.

“Oh, Katya, I wanted to show you something I’ve found for my shop. I’m curious if it works,” they say casually, changing the topic abruptly.

They pull the ornate dog whistle out with a flourish and only pause for half a second to consider the ire it might earn them from the rest of her pack if it works as well as they hope it does. Worth it. tweeeeeeeeeee~

[accultant]

first thing that came to shade was eerie. but she means it in the "wow I respect you" way, not the "you're creepy" way. also for some reason I can see her calling her something like "long ago iago" in a kind of sing-songy way ? like considering her accent I think it would work (I imagine her having trouble saying Iagos name tbh, more like "aaago" or "yago") so it would be almost like "long ago, ago" idk but it came to mind. also I can see her referring to Iago as "tongue" if she refers to Puck as "teeth", as in "sharp tongue" and "sharp teeth" bcuz she is kinda unnerved about Pucks teeth situation (going to Iago like... does he really have teeth in the back of his throat ???) and Iago seems like the more sharp witted (no offense Puck !!) of the two

long ago iago is so cute WTF!!! oh i think they'd like that, too.... and being called eerie. they kinda like how eerie and odd they are, or at least they like when that's ACKNOWLEDGED with curiosity rather than judgement (it's how they often look at the world, so it's nice to be on the other end of that). and being nicknamed after their sharp tongue is Very befitting! The sharp brothers........

Also Iago would say that Puck has teeth in the back of his throat. He doesn't, but they'd tell her that because it's funny.

[accultant]

from @bladef8: pretty, glowing sword appears in their tent and tells iago they should pick him up <3

@bladef8

"Yeah, yeah," Iago mumbles under their breath, tapping their fingers against crossed arms as they squint at the mysterious sword that appeared out of nowhere.

They are quite intrigued, though. Hence, why they've been looking at it, walking around it, peering closer, taking notes, and even once going as far as poking it gently with the end of a pen. They fancy themselves a bit of an oddities collector. If their suspicions were accurate, this wouldn't be the first cursed item that's fallen into their hands.

"If you are trying to curse me," Iago says, as much to themselves as to the object that seems to be talking to them. They often talk to themselves when they're alone, especially when they're trying to figure things out. All of the weird objects in their tent have gotten their fair share of Iago's muttered rambling. "You have terrible taste in victims. I'm no swordsman, nor am I gullible enough to pick up a mysterious weapon that wants me to. Most weapons don't talk."

That being said, Iago is all too aware that they are, in fact, stupidly curious enough to keep it around rather than safely throw such a thing away. They crouch down to the ground to get a closer look at it again, tilting their head. "You're very pretty for a cursed sword. I suppose that works in your favor, hm?"

[accultant]

☂ (Rip Serkan, you will not be missed)

☂ - An entry about a time your muse annoyed mine.

do these meatheads have no sense of balance no common sense no idea how this place manages to run. i expect sacrifices and slaughters of course i do of course im not so ridiculous to hope for to expect anything else. im squeamish but im not a child anymore im in no denial of where i am of the wretchedness of this place of how much blood i see every day every single fuckingday its everywhere ican smell it now even after ive cleaned my office just yesterday i see it everywhere i look everyw but i do not think it is too much to ask for the SMALLEST bit of restraint. a BALANCE. to request my siblings ask for TITHES AND OFFERINGS not just for BLOOD. not that i have actually asked this yet im still afraid to speak to serkan alone hes never been too interested in me and i dont want to attract his ire now but bhaal below the murder sprees are going to make my hair fall out. serkan is happy to please bhaal in plenty of creative goreish ways but this temple will be nothing but a hole in the ground if we have little more than severed hands and half-gnawed brains in our coffers !! a cult still has bills to pay!!!! if we kill every follower we will have no one left to empty the pockets of and serkan and puck will surely be sad to find there is no one around to fawn over them so. but that must seem like an impossible concept in the face of the sweet sweet call of BLOOD i guess. i am beginning to think he's convinced he's the leader of a butcher shop rather than a proper cult there's a joke here i could make about butcher shops and cannibalism and the eating habits of my brethren but i am too tired to think one up and i still have a mile high pile that kind of rhymes haha of receipts to sort through tonight. how the hells we are going to afford the repairs for the main altar i have no fucking idea maybe i can tear off one of those horns of his and sell it as a trophy to one of his fans-

[accultant]

patch, sender patches up receiver's wounds.

It's all Katya's fault, Iago thinks bitterly as the werewolf bandages their scalded hands. She had found just the right time to barge into their shop, startling them from their very delicate work concerning a cursed candelabra that had a penchant for spewing flames. Okay, so maybe a couple of their wards were a little half-assed. Maybe they should've thought to put up their warning sign outside before starting on this particular project ( they're still getting used to visitors ).

Or maybe it was all Katya's fault. Yes, Iago likes the sound of that. "Hells-" they hiss when she ties off one of the bandages, "I'm starting to think you enjoy this, you hound."

[accultant]

❝ Ia . . . Why did Dandy just call me his mom ？❞

Iago glances up from braiding Thistle's hair, holding a ribbon in their teeth while they work.

“Prob-ly -cause-” They stop, hold up a finger, take the ribbon out to tie off the black, curly end of their daughter's hair and speak clearly, “Probably because you're his mom.” 

“And my aunt..?” Thistle says quietly, tilting her head up and backwards to look at Iago for confirmation with those big ole' eyes of hers. 

They tickle her nose with the end of her own braid instead of giving a surefire answer and start to usher her away while she giggles, “Shoo. Go play with your cousin. And tell him if he tugs out your ribbon again, Auntie Iago is going to put one in his hair next. The gaudiest color I can find.” 

When Thistle skips off, looking concerningly delighted by the prospect of threatening Dandy, Iago scoots over and tugs Puck down onto the couch next to them.

“Because you're his mom,” they say again, poking him in the side before asking a little more seriously, “Does it bother you?”