A Cat Declawed

💭“She’s a bit odd, but I like her.”

💭“She has this curiosity that makes me wonder if she’s got deeper motives.”

It was an impromptu departure. Kurel had only informed Saeris that they would be setting sail the night before while they sat on the porch across from the Pig and Whistle. It was off the books and off the grid. The danger wasn’t so much in the mission itself as it was in the risk of being identified if things went wrong. This wasn’t a tomb raid or a mere moving of illegal goods from one port to another. This was an entire heist, not so unlike that which Kurel and his first crew had pulled off years prior when they’d robbed the vaults of Stormwind. This time they were targeting ships of the King’s Navy which were rumored to have been hauling the new mineral bleeding up from the ground in Kalimdor.

Saeris had worked through the night to get the dreadful looking skeleton of a once vibrant vessel ready to sail. Supplies were quickly being brought onboard and stored down into the hull, along with heavy amounts of gunpowder and iron from the store houses at the docks. The sun had not yet risen when Kurel began his day.There was something he needed to leave behind; a container.

It was roughly the size of an average shoe box with clear glass sides and a very intricate golden frame. One end had a latching door that opened and when turned in the right direction, the ambient light reflected off a series of runes and keyrunes inscribed onto the glass walls. The enchanted container was left on the kitchen table in Eilithe’s apartment for her to find. He had entered with an uncanny quietness and left just the same to avoid disturbing those within.

Kurel’s second stop was at The Wheel. Up in the office, in the desk drawer he put Saeris’ paper seal that connected him to those of Mortua Sol and his own scorpid embossed ring. It was shut, gently and he left.

At the command of Saeris Blackblade, the sails of The Queen’s Gambit were opened. They filled with wind, causing the man-of-war to lurch forward as the anchor was hauled up out of the bay. Its gaping maw bulwark chewed through the tide with ease and with a monstrous sort of grace put Dead Sun behind them.

The Gambit crew had no idea where they were headed. By the time the ship was out to sea and the edge of Pandaria’s coastline could no longer be seen through any spyglass, the sun had fully crested the horizon to create a warm yellow glow. The entire crew, save for Severin who served at the helm, had gathered among the middle top-deck to receive instruction.

Kurel stepped out from his stateroom to the silence of their anticipation. Aside from the hiss of waves that struck the ship’s sides with force, the only other sound was the one time ‘click click’ as he opened the lid of a compass and promptly shut it, to be put back into the pocket of his leather long jacket.

“The Cetaceal Blue is an eighty-five foo’, two-masted brigantine tha’ belongs to the Royal Navy of the boy kin’! Five days ago she lef’ the coas’ of Tanaris with two frigate supports, each rumored to be armed with thirty guns apiece an’ is suspected to be on their way to Stormwind!” Kurel’s voice didn’t need any amplifier of any sort to carry over the whip of the ocean wind. Though he shouted as loud as his tattered vocal cords would allow, there were times when an airy hoarseness muted him for a syllable.

“On boar’ The Cetaceal Blue is a one chance only, because afterwards the Royal Navy will sen’ bigger ships an’ more ships to guard their prize of the lifeblood mineral oozin’ up from the worl’ where Sargeras’ blade penetrated Silithus! Tha’ lifeblood  is in the hull of tha’ brigantine!

“Mister Blackblade an’ I fully anticipate The Cetaceal Blue will run, while its frigates make an effor’ to delay us with cannon fire! They can figh’ us, bu’ they can’t ou’ run us, for we have control of the win’ itself a’ our fingertips.” In his other hand Kurel held up the totem relic. A tight vortex of air whirled about it and his hand both.

“I hope you all are ready to become rich men! Loy Meaz Nessari!” Final words that lit the dirty faces of the sleep deprived crew. Hands clapping together, smacking rails, and voices rang as they repeated their Captain’s last three words in chant. They all scattered there after. Back to their lines and posts.

“We have today. If Tailon doesn’t see sails in the distance by dusk… then we’ve missed’em an’ we turn back. Pull Dead Sun’s banner down from the mas’. Ready our colors an’ the red. We take i’ all an’ we give no quarter.” Kurel conveyed these orders quietly to Saeris, standing so close to the crimson-haired elf’s profile that their shoulders nearly connected. It was with those same instructions that he passed the relic off to him.

“I don’t want to issue a challenge. For me, this matter is settled. If–-“ Eilithe held up a finger.

Evelynn’s voice, ‘Recke is getting stabbed.. he won’t let me help.’

A command went over the Seal, without a second thought, ‘All in Stormwind to Overseer Stoutmantle’s position, capture whomever is attacking him. Leave them alive.’

Could she have one fucking day. Just one.

“I mean if people can just issue challenges all willy-nilly, she could probably issue challenges on the grounds that she was being trapped… I mean - who is in chage of the challenge system around here?    It seems riddled with loopholes.” She had never seen Mira get so worked up.  “How about this. I don’t care.” Eilithe’s ears flicked around, with the Seal, with Evelynn with–

 "Good, then we do not have to acknowledge her challenge?“

Kurel ‘The Peanut Gallery’ An’Diel laughed at that.

 ”No, I’m saying in this moment- I do not care what your qualms are with the laws are. If Sonya agrees to fight you in Uldyr’s stead to settle the debt, that is between the two of you and whomever is overseeing the fight.“.

 "I have to go.”

‘Shoul’ I stay here or do you nee’ help’

She did not have time to process the fact that Kurel had just offered his help without being asked. Through the portal, she was full on sprinting towards the pond. There was no time to cover her face– no time to even put on proper armor. 

‘Help me by getting Mira calm. And later.’ 

Recke had been spiraling just as she had- he thought she couldn’t see it, but she could. Drinking. Avoiding. She did it too. That was perhaps the reason that she had no a fucking idea how to stop Recke from losing himself, or from hating her– but she would always come to save him. 

The cracking of her jaw- that horrid sound of the skin of her cheeks coming undone. 

‘Cover your ears’

The howl was ear-piercing- shrill and eldritch. She couldn’t see the others- she was focused on the bitch who was stupid enough to put knives in one of the family. It was enough to get her away from him, Recke was cut up- bleeding out very quickly. 

Nia.

That little psycho- who looked..strangely like she was trying to help. Eilithe let her drag off Recke into the shadows– her eyes were over on Evelynn. 

Behind you. 

A hard stare was pinned on Nia and her mate as they exchanged potions and healing to Recke. No, she wasn’t just watching them– she was watching the timer on Recke’s chest Tick. Tick. Tick down. 

“He needs a doctor,” Nia’s voice was unfamiliar, or–perhaps the words themselves seemed foreign from her lips. Eilithe hugged her– actually full on embraced her and shared words just between them.

The words brought her back, erased self-doubt and worry and left only the leader in her. ‘Cousin, can you meet us in Odellise’s office, Recke’s probably going to need you both.’

“I’ll carry him,” she said as though he was her burden to bare. She slung his arms over her shoulder, and then splayed his stomach across her back before lifting with her legs. 

‘Dalen– I don’t mean to be a pushy cunt, but tear open a portal where I am to Dead Sun, would you? Lieutenant Fat Ass, here.’ 

Physical strength was something Eilithe had- in a reasonable amount, meaning that two hundred and fifty pounds of Recke’s ass made him difficult to carry. Through the portal, Eilithe took slow and shaky steps towards the bed. 

Just as she reached the bed, she felt it. Something warm, soaking through her leathers. Just one fucking day. 

“I’ve been..pissed on,” Eilithe stated- putting Recke down as gently as she could. With his timer mostly stable- Eilithe was not hesitant. 

Modesty was not a word for Eilithe.

She started stripping before she even hit the stairs of the clinic. Bare assed. Butt ass. Naked as the day she was born. That’s how she left the clinic, making straight for the beach to dive into the ocean. 

‘You portaled earlier, where are you now?’

The conversation had been carrying on the whole time, but since he’d mentioned it. 

“Shoreline. And if you’re coming reach into the trunk in the office and bring the first thing you find.” 

By time Eilithe got back upstairs, Kurel in tow- she was soaking wet and wearing some ridiculous combination of clothes. Her cousin was almost done- which left Odellise  to stitch up Recke. 

Recke’s words were still bouncing around in her head. ‘He doesn’t give a shit about you. Or about Eilonwy. You stupid fucking cunt.’ 

She knew he was right. Emotions lied though. Emotions took little things and twisted them around in her head. 

‘…With you movin’ locations. If somethin’ happens. I’ve no idea where to go.’

“Y-Y-you should al-all leave an-and let them rest.”

Ray had worn herself out and landed in one of the beds of the clinic. Jolene had found her way to Recke’s side. This was as much at peace as it was going to get. 

Eilithe walked over and planted a kiss on Recke’s forehead, and after a very brief warning to Nia and her mate, she was gone down the stairs. Off, no doubt, to find another way to quiet her mind. 

Tagged by @evelynnblackmore

Name: Galirayna Duskshatter (Duskbringer)

Age: Somewhere around 475

Height: 5′11″

Weight: Enough

Blood Type: No idea

Eye color: Silvery teal

Hair color: Golden Blonde

Date of Birth: July 13

Zodiac sign: Cancer

Shoe size: She’ll never tell

Favorite Color(s): blue, gold

Favorite smell(s): citrus, leather

Birth Gem: ruby

Race: Sin’dorei/Kal’dorei hybrid

Talent(s): NSFW answers, woodworking, design

A wish they have always wanted: A life where she doesn’t have to whore anymore.

An item they hold dear to their heart: her freedom

Favorite sound(s): anything to do with money, laughter

Fear(s): losing her freedom, aging, being left to die again, violence

Accomplishment(s): pulling herself up out of the gutter, not ODing, not dying in general

Your muse’s catchphrase(s): I don’t know that she has one.

Likes: money, silk, mimosas

Dislikes: confrontation

Any scars?: not a one

Birthmarks?: pale, flat mole behind her left ear

Something about your muse that is different from everyone else: She isn’t a fighter.

What makes your muse cry?: Kindness

What makes your muse happy?: Drugs

What makes your muse laugh?: pretty much anything if she’s high

Does your muse love his/her parents? Her mother, yes Why or why not?: She doesn’t know how not to love her mother. She doesn’t know her father, so she feels nothing for him.

Does your muse have any friends? Yes, she does. Which friend is closest to him/her?: She’s friends with most of @deadsunharbor  but she’s closest to @eilitheduskbringer​ and @anorasmira. She’s getting pretty close to Agnes, too.

Your muse’s favorite food?: salads, especially with almonds

Does your muse follow a religion? No If so, what is it and what are their beliefs?: She believes in nothing, not even herself.

What would get your muse to fall in love with someone?: treat her like something besides a series of holes to stick your dick in

Has your muse ever killed/murdered somebody? never Why did they do it and what was their motive?: She doesn’t even fight.

Does your muse have a type when it comes to physical attraction?: Men :) But, seriously, she’s got a weak spot for big, scary men, especially Kal’dorei

What does your muse find endearing personality wise?: treating everyone as equals

What is the stupidest/ most illogical thing your muse has done and why did they do it?: tried to hide money from her ‘pimp/boyfriend/master/dickhead’

A song that relates to your Muse?: Satisfy - Nero

Since her last encounter with Elle, Mira had committed herself to making sure she’d sufficiently apologized over the cup incident. Outside of the Purveyor’s office, packages would occasionally turn up. Addressed very formally in flowing Thalassian script to Lady Ellwelune Sunweaver, Land Purveyor of Dead Sun Harbor.

The first of the packages contained yet another set of tea cups that were fit for Sin’dorei nobility. Her first gesture had been rushed, and this second set of cups were of a higher quality. They also had an enchantment woven into them. When liquid was present, the cups would move to prevent themselves from ever spilling so much as a drop.

The second gift was in the same vein as the first.   It contained a decanter and a set of glasses more suited to when Elle was in a bourbon mood.

Glasses are little good on their own and so a bottle of bourbon would also arrive. Along with a variety of herbs and tea leaves. Fresh and sealed inside plastic bags to keep them that way for as long as possible. There was a variety of interesting blends and containers for each, with labels.

And then, of course, was her masterstroke. 

The gift she prided herself the most on. A rug that looked like it had been plucked from some Lord’s study. Rich in detail, reds and golds featured prominently in the design. It was sized to fit nicely within Elle’s office.

But what made this her crowning achievement in gift selection?   This was no simple rug!    This rug had been enchanted to keep itself clean. Any dust or dirt or crumb or what not would simply be met with a silent spark of arcane energy that would remove the offensive particles from existence. Yes. Based on what she knew of Elle, this was an ideal gift.

Never did she leave a note. She signed her name, but that was all.   

Her apology served two purposes. First, the obvious purpose of being a genuine attempt to show Elle she was in fact sorry, and that she had not meant to offend her. She simply wasn’t thinking. These gifts clearly illustrated some level of thought put into them, which she hoped would show she at least had the ability to be polite and thoughtful.

However the second purpose was far less obvious and not nearly as virtuous. Part of her wondered how Delan would respond to any new tea cups being present. Or a new rug. He seemed to have made himself so comfortable behind her desk, looked as if he might just have well considered her office his own. He was also very aware of the woman’s tea drinking habits, and sending new cups and a selection of several blends of teas could cause her habits to be less predictable.

Delan was a clever man, and Mira knew this. She fully expected him to pick up her attempt to get under his skin. It was her way of responding to the door game they played. She wasn’t trying to get under his skin just for the sake of it, this was more a way of showing the mage that she could speak the same language as him, and play the same games. Such games were not uncommon, and she actually found them a bit enjoyable so long as they did not go too far.   If anything she was attempting to gain a measure of respect from the man.   

Like many phrases spoken in Thalassian carried multiple meanings, so too did her gesture. It was at once, an earnest apology to Elle, and a bit of a wink and nudge sort of mind game aimed at Delan.

First, the tea set, truly fit for a much more elaborate setting than her office. This one gave Dalen a bit of a Cross Face as he sensed the enchantments surrounding the gift. After making sure they weren’t sinister in nature, he finally let her have them. “It seems Miss Mira has fine taste, my dear,” he remarked. “And thoughtful enough to provide you with some new tastes to explore.” Elle only scowled at him.

Next, the decadent decanter set, again far more elaborate than the simple set that resides in her office. She sighed heavily, shoulders slumped. “I didn’t ask her to do this, you know,” was all she said in response to Dalen’s laughter at her discomfort. The purveyor has always been uncomfortable with receiving gifts. “Perhaps she is trying to win your affections, Lady Sunweaver.” She offered Dalen a glare in answer to his jest as this gift was placed on the side bar next to the tea set.

The third gift set off alarm bells with Dalen again, so she had to wait to see it unfolded across her floor. She glanced up from the truly beautiful rug to look around her rose-and-silver decorated office. “I’m going to have to redecorate the entire office,” she stated, in a voice that sounded far more distressed than she intended.

Dalen stepped to her, placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll give you some curtains next.” He laughed and held up his hands in surrender at her glare. “Okay, okay. You could always just ask her to stop. Let her know you forgive her for her little slip up.” When he noticed the twitching below her left eye, likely brought on by the invasion of red-and-gold into her pink-and-silver world, he took her hand and lead her outside. “It’s a beautiful day, let’s go for a walk.”

Elle stepped out into the humid, heavy air of the harbor and breathed deeply the briney breeze. Perhaps she’ll find a gift to send in return while she’s out searching Merchant Alley for an entirely new office.

Mugara answers the door and he is very unhappy about it, a very large frown on his face as he looks at Mira. Then he huffs and walks past her. “No one ever wants me,” he pouts. 

Semmi seems to have taken over, just as Mira had heard. Even though she had none of her bed things in the room, she had clearly turned his desk into her own, with papers, books, and arcane scrolls all over, drowning out whatever Mugara had originally had on it. 

Her head tilted back at hearing the elf’s words, but she’s still toiling away. The disc itself is in a protective arcane casing on the side of the desk. 

“I live, I promise,” the mage breathes in, scribbling on a scroll. “What is the question you have? Did you have a suggestion for it?” 

Her attention turned to the Archmage as she stepped inside the quarters and looked around.   The desk was incredibly cluttered.    Which put her on edge.   She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.    

“I was going to ask if it was ready yet...”    she said, the answer to that question already seemed obvious now.    

“Kurel asked me to check on your progress, and possibly get a timeline...   regarding when the panel will be ready.   Do you think you might be able to offer some estimate?   Or are you still - sort of - working through things?”

Mira knocked faintly on the door.   Knock.   Knock.   Knock.  Knock.   Four knocks.

Dalen’s voice sounds from behind the door. “Just a moment.” It truly is only a moment before he opens the door and smiles at Mira. “Miss Mira. How lovely to see you.” He steps to the side, gesturing for her to enter. “Elle isn’t here, but you’re welcome to wait for her.”

Mira nods, “I know, I saw her a moment ago.”   She stepped in and as per usual removed her boots.   Waiting for the door to close before she continues.

Dalen raises a brow in a gesture that makes Elle’s look nearly comical, as he closes the door. “I see.” He moves to Elle’s desk, choosing to lean against it, rather than sit in -her- chair. “Is there a problem with the device?”

Mira glanced at Elle, “Second cup?”

Elle places a near empty cup on the saucer before her. “Sometimes a second cup is in order.” She glances up at Mira and smiles. “I hope he was able to help you.”

Mira picked up Elle’s cup and finished the last drop for her.    Why? She didn’t know. It felt right.     She then set it down.    "Of course he was. Clever little mage you have. Always so helpful.“ her tone was polite and warm, "So, the apartment… Do you feel up to showing me, or would you rather show me some other time? I am - nothing if not flexible.    Whenever you’d like…”

Elle’s eyes narrow at Mira. The girl definitely lacks manners. With her lip curled back, she pushes the cup away from herself. Gross. Cooties. “It is generally considered polite to either wait for an invitation or to ask permission, rather than assume possession of another’s property, tea or otherwise.” She needs a shower. Desperately. She places a few coins in the bartender’s hand with a nod of thanks and rises from her seat. “I can show you now. It shouldn’t take long.”

Elle: “They have no discretion.” Dalen: “Braggarts?” Elle: “That makes them liabilities.” Dalen: “I’m sure you’ll figure out how to deal with them.” Elle: “I already have.”

Elle pinches the bridge of her nose, then rubs her temples. “What is wrong with people? They can’t honestly think their behavior is acceptable?” She breathes out a heavy sigh, trying to focus. “Yes, there are a few houses around the Harbor. Tress rents rooms at the Hanged Man on a monthly basis. As for near Stormwind…” She shrugs. “That I don’t know. The closest I know is Pennifer’s farm, but that’s in Southern Westfall.”

Mira’s knuckles cracked as she realized she was digging into the bartop and released her grip.    "You’d think they’d at least know what they were going to kill. And - whatever happened to discretion. Granted, I know few would shed a tear for a demon or a cultist, but - if your trade is killing, it used to be - so far as I know - something one kept quiet. In fact, it was a point of pride for some.“ she shook her head. "Westfall still have issues with bandits and shit?”

Elle offers a frown that shows she is personally offended by the men’s behavior. “Anyone worth their salt is discrete. They go in, get the job done, get out, and nobody knows they were there. They don’t fuking brag about it like a couple of prancing peacocks.” She barely seems to notice she’s actually speaking to Mira, at this point. “They are a liability. Liabilities cannot…will not…be tolerated.” There’s something dangerous and cold in her gaze when she finally focuses on Mira. Elle knows a thing or two about quietly getting the job done. “They are no longer a problem for Pennifer’s farm.”

Mira nodded, “Well, I meant more in general… I don’t know Pennifer… I likely will only be using the location on occasions, so I can’t select a location prone to bandits and that.    Out of the way, something small.    Likewise, in the Harbor, I just need something I can rent. Nothing fancy.    I just - like to make sure I have a place to be - whenever I bounce around.”    she nodded at Elle, “Perhaps they have never learned the hard way that failure to be discrete - can end up biting you.    If I were inclined, they named a location and gave me a sense of the targets they were hunting.    Well - they didn’t seem to know exactly. But the point is, if I were working with their enemy, it’d be easy for me to warn them, and they’d be caught with their cocks out. It will catch up with them eventually.” She stood up, “Thank you Miss Elle.    You are a lovely creature.”

Elle purses her lips and nods. “Which is exactly what makes them a liability. They have loose lips.” She rises from her stool, sliding a few coins over the bar. “If you just want a place to lay your head while you’re in the Harbor, ask Ray. I know she has an extra room in her house. I have to get home, but we can work something out soon. It’s been a pleasure speaking with you.” More or less. Crude ass Harbor.

Elle: “They have no discretion.” Dalen: “Braggarts?” Elle: “That makes them liabilities.” Dalen: “I’m sure you’ll figure out how to deal with them.” Elle: “I already have.”

The Sisters in Sin are back at it with our biweekly events, and this Friday’s is nothing short of spectacular and sure to dazzle with our exciting new contest!

Dragsters, make up gurus, fashionistas and special effects artists alike shall join under the Brothel roof to put on a show for the buzzing crowd in the form of Drag! Kings and Queens from all over the realm come together in the name of fabulousness in hope to win prozes for their creativity and sense of style!

However, we need more bodies! Women and men are invited to partake in our contest now! All for a chance to win hearty cash prizes as well as the bragging rights for being crowned King and Queen, as well second place winners will earn the titles of Princess and Prince, of Drag!

Whats that you ask? Whats a King and Queen in terms of Drag?

Kings: Women dressed as men!

Queens: Men dressed as women!

The following is the application you must fill out and send to either the Sisters in Sin tumblr ( @sistersinsin ), the Madam ( @susan-gampre ), or the Head Diva ( @thevivacious ):

Queen or King Name (e.g., Miss Lana Order or Freddy Prince Charming):

Music Link (tinyurl.com/xxxxxx):

Residence or Hometown:

Favorite Possession:

Performance Example: Miss Lana Order came out in stunning yellow gown, slit all the way up to the hip! Her hair was done up into a high bun, her face heavily saturated in neon makeup. She strutted down the stage, blowing a kiss to the judges. With a twinkle in her eye, she shimmied her luscious chest for all to see and strutted back offstage.

Deadline is 1 hour before the event starts, so at 5 pm server time is the cut off! You have until then to enter! Its so simple too, just ask us if you need help writinf your performance!

Judging our contests shall be none other than:

The peculiarly rambunctious duo of Cedrick and Venreena Holt ( @cedrickholtstories @venreenaholt )will be providing their sharp wit to weed out those with poor style!

The witty and mysterious Miss Breakfast.

( @miss-breakfast ), best known for her slanderous abilities to slap the bitch face right off your mug!

The illustrious and mysterious Lady Duskbringer ( @eilitheduskbringer ), bringing her none too subtle look of judgement to shake even the bravest of heart to their very core!

And finally, the perky and peppy Mister Ambroce ( @mremaknu ) with his own skill of determining whos hot, not, and who’s just a plain mess!