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</div><br/><b>NAME:</b>Iris<br/><b>Alias: </b>Cabal Blue<br/><b>Primary Nicknames</b>: Brat, You Little Bitch<br/><b>Age: </b>19<br/><b>Date/Time: </b>[Consensus?]<br/><b>Location: </b>Music Room > Kitchen, briefly > Operations Room<br/><b>Wearing: </b>Thick navy blue hoodie with a ZCCC letters, jeans, white trainers with pom-pom socks.<br/><b>Mood Music:</b><a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dd-vluPwpf7c&amp;hash=a26ada0699428998a7d7f7dd6ad39af9" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-vluPwpf7c" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">"Until We're Done", Jonathan Bree</a><br/><b>Tagging: </b>I suppose?<br/><br/><br/><br/>Iris managed a smile when Terry stroked her cheek.  She seemed about to say something when Chris came in and greeted them.  She nodded at his question, then nodded vigorously in support of Terry's assessment of Emmy and her yelling.  When it appeared that they were going to be dragged to the Operations Room by the undertow of Emmy's bossiness, she downed the rest of her apple juice, picked up her plate and let Terry tow her to the kitchen.  She set her dishes near the sink and leaned against the counter, watching Terry make coffee.  The scent was rich and pungent.  She preferred tea, but she did appreciate a good cup of coffee now and again.  She settled for pouring herself another glass of apple juice.<br/><br/>She took Terry's hand and followed her down into the Underworld, and in a few moments they were in the Operations Center.  Iris took a seat and sipped her apple juice, idly spinning back and forth in the mesh-backed office chair.  She rested her gaze on Emmy, and waited for the fireworks to begin.