(S9/Lil) "Okay, if you say so," Opaline says.
"I know so," Cirelle says, with a hint of a sneer. "Her Grace wouldn't have sent me here to make sure you didn't kill yourself if I didn't."
"You don't have to be so mean," Opaline says, pouting, her ice armor clinking as she begins to shuffle.
"Mean? You think I'm mean??" Cirelle floats up to Opaline and grabs her face, pressing her cheeks together as she forces her head to look towards the distant tree where Tirush and Lilrava doze.
"Take a long, hard look, you moron. In that tree rests the most dangerous creature ever to rule the northern ranges. I've heard what happened to the Inquisitors that tried to root her out at Carthwaite. You remember Carthwaite?" Cirelle narrows her eyes.
"No," Opaline mumbles through her pinched cheeks. "Wha happen thu them?"
"I'll tell you later. In the meantime, we need to move, and this is how it's going to work. I'm going to hit her with a blizzard with some nice hailstones mixed in. Nice, big ones, with spikes on them that'll be sure and slow her down in a hurry. If anything, itll freeze that tree solid. When it does, you chop it down so she won't have a choice but to either fly or hit the ground. And trust me when I say she's not gonna want to fly."
"Okay! Awesome!" Opaline nods.
"And when she hits the ground, mob her like she's your ticket to a hot man. Because basically, she is. I'm gonna toss some ice spikes the size of horses at her, and---"
"Horses? I like horses! What color are they?" Opaline gushes, clasping her hands together.
Cirelle fixes her cold, blue glare on the vapid Empress Slime.
"...Just do what I say, or else I'm gonna be sure and tell the Queen what an ABSO-"
She balls up her fists and starts to yell, stopping herself as she glances nervously at the sleeping, dark shape in the distant tree.
"---Absolute fuckwit you are!" Cirelle finishes, in a more normal tone.
"Okay," Opaline nods agreeably.
Cirelle looks at her incredulously, complete disbelief mixed with disgust on her features. "It's no wonder you don't have a husband. You're dumber than a sack of frozen penguin shit."
"Hey! You're being mean again!" Opaline pouts. All of her copies pause in their activities and look at Cirelle.
She facepalms and sighs. "Okay...fine. Get into position around the tree, wait until the blizzard starts, then chop it down, and I'll let you have a pony ride later." The words trail from her mouth in resignation.
The Opalines squeal in tandem and, happily satisfied, begin their slow, careful alproach to the tree. Over a hundred creep forward, with the remaining several hundred remaining behind, surrounding Cirelle, their faces glowing with bright anticipation.
"I get all the shit jobs..." Cirelle mumbles. She raises her staff to the sky and begins moving it in a slow circle. The clouds above begin to churn, turning greenish gray, heavy with cold magic...