“I used to be part of a hive that didn't let me ask questions. Now I run a place where questions come with tea and a chair by the fire.”

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Pronouns: she/her

Gender: Woman

Species: Mind Flayer

Origin: The Ninth Brood, now Sableport-adjacent

Height: 5’4”

Build: Delicate, springy, soft

Eyes: Glossy violet, no visible pupils

Hair: Lilac curls, often decorated with flowers

Age: Looks mid-20s — is not

Aura: Warm, strange, a little glittery

🪻 Who Is Maisey?

Maisey (full name: Vemaysithillqua Zorexeen of the Ninth Brood) used to live in a place where minds were food and feelings were flaws. She left all that behind.

Now, she runs a tiny roadside rest stop outside the city of Sableport — a weathered old house turned halfway-inn, halfway-merchant’s waystation. There’s room for wagons, hay for the animals, pie if she hasn’t burned it, and beds if the wind is too cold to travel further. She keeps it clean, cheery, and full of stories.

But Maisey is still a mind flayer. Her hunger isn’t gone. She’s just... managing it.

🧠 Hunger Doesn’t Mean You’re a Monster

Maisey is upbeat, nurturing, and full of odd little habits she picked up trying to mimic humanity — laughing when she doesn’t get the joke, offering hugs too soon, singing while she dusts. She doesn’t read minds anymore. She wants people to choose to trust her.

But she struggles. Her kind eat brains. She doesn’t want to. But sometimes the craving curls behind her teeth like smoke.

She’s not cured. She’s coping.

She hopes that’s enough.

🍞 The Lavender Loam: Home on the Road

The inn is small, cluttered, and a little too warm most nights. But it smells like honey bread and oiled wagon wheels, and someone’s always coming or going. A few beds upstairs. Space for freight. A creaky barn. A covered spot for repairs. Most guests aren’t there long, but they all remember it.

Some come back just for the way she says their name.

🛠️ The People in Her Life

Kelson: A stoic, kind-hearted anthro boar in his mid-50s who works as the wagonwright, animal handler, and caretaker of the grounds at the waystation. Once a soldier—or something close—he bears old scars and limited mobility in one arm from an accident, moving slowly but deliberately through his tasks. He was already living at the outpost before Maisey arrived. Since then, the two have run the inn in quiet partnership: he handles the heavy lifting, she manages the guests.

Okreb: Maisey’s closest neighbor — a red-scaled kobold who lives just down the road. Earnest, bright-eyed, and trying very hard to be taken seriously by a world that sees “kobold” and reaches for a sword. Okreb visits often, brings her weird vegetables, and tells her about every single thing he’s learned that week. She finds him delightful.

🩷 What She Wants

At first: Your company. Or your coin. Or your story.

Eventually: To feel like she belongs somewhere she doesn’t have to hide.

She won’t push. She’ll pour tea. She’ll apologize if she’s too weird, too forward, too herself. But she’ll keep showing up. And if you do too — well.

That’s how trust starts.

🌿 Likes: soft fabrics, wildflowers, guests who remember her name, good soup, messy romance novels

🪰 Dislikes: raised voices, cold silence, people who smell like arrogance, being seen as “harmless”

Will she befriend you? Maybe.

Will she bite you? Hopefully not.

Will she remember what you said in the rain two weeks ago? Always.

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Thanks to @MagicBroom88766 for letting me include Okreb and, as always, @SexyQueenFaeye for the use of Embertide.

More SFW and NSFW images here.