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@annadia-thorn
“The greatest pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do.”
— Walter Bagehot
The term girlfriend implies the existence of a girlfoe. This is a service I am willing to provide.
[ source: Eve Belle ]
Ain't no rest for the wicked New blood better go get vicious You better you better Sharpen up your knives
Fooling God, Louise Erdrich
[ID: I must be sharp and impetuous as knives.]
“What did you want to be when you grew up?” he asked, pouring another glass.
Annadia smiled then, something sharp lurking within her gold-green eyes.
“Dangerous.”
Aralya'diel
The clipper Aralya’diel cut a sharp profile moored at the docks below Paw’don village; her lines and craftwork showed the vessel as one from Suramar’s shipyards, although the cut of her sails, for those with an eye, bore the influence of Quel’thalas. A lanky figure with long tusks and a shock of upright hair stood on the forward decks, a three-fingered hand held over his eyes as he peered towards the village above.
“‘ey, Cap’n Tightpants,” the troll called out, “I tink dat be your sister comin’.”
Annadia ducked out of the clipper’s aftcastle, adjusting a tricorn hat adorned with a nigh-ridiculous feather to just the right rakish angle. Black leather pants, fitted tight enough to earn the troll’s epithet, were tucked into knee-high cavalier boots buckled close around her calves, the outfit topped with a bishop-sleeved loose linen shirt left dangerously unbuttoned and secured only by an elaborately embroidered half-corset.
All the ensemble required were her blades and pistols, but those? Those remained below decks. The conditions of Paw’don's dockmaster were strict, and the local Pandaren had not forgotten the memory of what had once been Garrosh’ar Point.
“Yeah, that’s Seraa,” the sin’dorei agreed, walking across the deck to join the troll at the clipper’s forecastle. The distant figure was making her unhurried way along the winding path from the village to the docks, followed by a shadow far darker than could be accounted for by the springtime sun. “I’m surprised you remember her. And Ko’jin - you’re gonna have to stop calling me that when we get a full crew.”
Annadia gave him a sidelong look, golden eyes narrowing as the troll burst out in laughter.
“Only when you stop dressin’ like de covah o’ some cheap trash book,” the lanky troll retorted after his laughter subsided, “or mebbe you be plannin’ for an early Hallow’s End, eh?” His broad smile, echoed by Annadia a breath later, dulled the sharp edges of their banter.
She lifted a lazy hand with one finger extended in a near-universal gesture. “Let me have it, huh? It’s fun to play the part. We’re still breaking her in,” Anna patted the carved railing, “and I’ve been dreaming of my own ship since I was little. Besides…”
She checked the cinch of her waspie and adjusted her bosom emphatically, “If they’re distracted by my tits, they won’t see how blind we’re stealing them.” Her grin grew sly, long brows raised with hints of salacious intent.
“If it’s larceny on ya mind, you gon be needin’ more den dose baps,” Ko’jin snorted with mock derision, only to wince and move away from the punch Annadia aimed at his arm. “Spirits, ya be abusin’ yer crew already! Fine cap’n you gonna make.”
Annadia huffed an exaggerated pout of aggrievement before looking back along the path. Her sister was near halfway from the village, close enough that Annadia waved and shouted a greeting, the shadowed figure raising a hand in silent response.
A nudge from Ko’jin pushed Annadia in the direction of the gangplank. “You go’wan an’ meet her. Ghaz won’ be back from Two Moons ‘til mornin’, an’ I still gotta finish wit’ inventory in de hold.” He considered Anna for a moment, “You still tink settin’ aside dat space be a good idea?”
“…Yeah. I got a feeling.” She gave a curt nod, still looking towards Seraanna’s approach and waving again. “This time.”
“Best t’be trustin’ a captain’s hunches, ‘den. Mebbe I’ll stop in t’greet you an’ her after y’both had some time for catchin’ up.”
“Captain.” A pleased smirk. “I still like the sound of that. Don’t lose yourself in the hold, or all the wine’ll be gone by the time you’re out.”
“An’ here you be tinkin’ I didn’t lay in extra.” Ko’jin made a shooing gesture. “Now git, ‘fore she boards an’ takes de helm while we’re jawin’.”
Annadia flipped the bird at him again and left, boots clacking along the gangplank as she debarked. Ko’jin watched, the troll‘s thick fingers worrying a dull amulet worn about his neck until he saw the two sisters - sin’dorei and ren’dorei - meet in an embrace still a hundred-odd yards from the docks. Only then did he make his way belowdecks.
"Dreamer be walkin’ again..."
* * *
mentions: @longveil
Ko'jin & Ghaz have appeared in: Old Bindings (Seraanna, flashback) and Extinguished (Kyuusei)
“The trick is not to stop wanting. The trick is to stop abandoning yourself and your life every time you want something. The trick is not to stop eating. The trick is to stop blaming yourself for your hunger. The trick is to use your hunger to build something. Hunger is a kind of a void, but it’s not negative. Hunger makes space for your feelings. Hunger makes space for hard work. Hunger makes space for building the kinds of things that TURN THE WORLD ON. Hunger is a place to start growing. Hunger forces you into a state of radical honesty. Hunger makes things awkward, and awkwardness is magical and righteous.”
— Heather Havrilesky, “Why Do I Always Have a Crush on Someone?”
This is not where I die. I've far too much killing to do.
Other Truths
[ Photo by Rowan Heuvel on Unsplash ]
Behind the cathedral, by steps that led to the quietude of the cemetery, an apartment overlooked the dark waters of Stormwind Harbor.
Where Light, Death, and the Deep met.
The heavy brass door knocker shaped in a Kraken’s form (or was it the form of something more ancient and ominous?) had long been removed. The elaborate lock had been exchanged for something simple, something more appropriate to whoever might next occupy the space. Gone as well was the vague sense of unease, of unwelcome, that often had passers-by taking their steps just the slightest bit faster. The wards upon the entry, the others that guarded the residence from scrying eyes - were no longer present.
Not to mention some of the more… questionable items… that had once been kept within.
Past the door, beyond the stairs, the apartment itself was all but bare. The wooden floors waxed, the walls devoid of even the most carefully chosen decorations. Bookshelves and wardrobes, a painting of spires that reached high above a lush forest’s boughs, even the treasured armchair embroidered in red and gold.
All had been removed.
Only a bottle of voidblend on the counter remained, and two sisters left to regard the empty shell of two years with glasses in hand.
“Last chance, Seraa. You sure?” Annadia took a healthy swig from her wineglass. She pursed her lips after swallowing, glaring wordlessly at the dark contents.
Seraanna’s sip was more leisurely, yet no less deep. There was faint melancholy in her eyes as she looked about the empty space.
“This has been a pleasing truth of… its time, and there is no portion of the path travelled that fully carries my regret,” she mused. “The Harbor, the House, the Hall. Whether brief or long, all have… made their contribution and been embraced in turn. But their truths are not what make… this choice.”
Seraa held up her glass, considering the liquid within. Filled with the dark between the stars. “Shadow seeks all paths and embraces them as truth, Annadia. Yet it does not require that all… truths be palatable. Some truths require distance, and this I shall… take. And for all the exquisite… distractions that remain, the butterflies and serpents left behind, there are yet other paths. Shapes yet unformed, limned in the foxfire of… myriad truths.”
Annadia snorted. “Fuck ‘em. Fuck all this lot. And any still in this shithole of a city.”
“…no.” Seraanna slowly shook her head, dark tousled hair shifting with the motion. “Do not judge… their truth. It is neither yours nor… mine. But for me, I will seek elsewhere. And perhaps find,” she offered a faded smirk, taking another small sip from her glass, “a truth warmed by crimson… flame. What is Shadow without Light to cast it, sister? And a coruscating… flame casts more than a single Truth by its… dancing shape.”
“Anyone else,” the sin’dorei muttered, “I’d say something about moths. But you? She better guard that flame.”
“The foxfire thrives… amidst Shadow.” A final sip and Seraanna left her empty glass on the counter next to the half-full bottle of voidblend. “A gift, for whomsoever finds this place. It is time… we took our leave, sister.”
Annadia tossed back the last of the voidblend, grimacing at the taste as she placed her glass next to Seraa’s. “You know, back when I was ah, training, in Murder Row? There was one guy that went out on his own after he’d passed his trials. The rest of us were just, ‘You’re made - why are you leaving?’ And I still remember what he said. ‘There’s other things out there. I can always come back if I don’t like it, if it doesn’t work out. But if I don’t go? I can’t ever come back.’”
A cant to Seraanna’s head as she peered at the sin’dorei rogue. “Always my… dearest sister, feigning the shallows yet surprising in her depths.”
“Don’t tell anyone, huh?” Anna offered a crooked arm. “Come on, let’s go.”
“…yes. To other… truths.”
* * *
For many reasons, I don’t see myself returning to WoW in the near future. The direction the game has taken, the things that have come to light in regards to the company itself? I don’t want my dollars to support it and, save for some wonderful RP partners who have mostly made their parting as well, haven’t been enjoying it. And now? I don’t even feel comfortable logging into the game.
I’ve made donations to charities suggested by Blizzard employees - well in excess of what I would have spent for a year’s subscription to WoW. Just in case anyone thinks this is a stance of mere convenience.
And I may come back, should things improve. Given ABK’s leadership, I’m not optimistic. But - Shadow seeks all paths, and embraces them as truth. Stranger things have happened.
For the stories and RP we’ve had - thank you. All of you. Yes, really, all of you - even you. I’m not certain if I’ll “reboot” this tumblr for the AU of Seraanna that’s being built for FFXIV (Mateus), or if I’ll start from scratch. But I’ll let you know.
Do what you feel you need to do, but remember:
Please don’t ignore the behavior that’s been brought into the light at Blizzard just because it makes you feel uncomfortable.
Please listen to the people who have stories to tell of their experiences, and let their stories take the forefront.
And don’t attack each other because someone fails a litmus test or takes a holier-than-thou stance. There are more important things here.
“Annadia Thorn. A woman who consists of nothing but pointed edges and silver tongue.”
Max Parkhurst
"No boom today. Boom tomorrow. There's always a boom tomorrow."
- Susan Ivanova
“Just because things hadn’t gone the way I’d planned didn’t necessarily mean they’d gone wrong.”
— Ann Patchett
Annadia Thorn (Longveil-Morrowsun) by @noirsnow
"Just" a patron-reward B&W sketch, but I'm just floored at how much Noir is able to capture and express in a sketch!
Hilary Rhoda photographed by Santiago & Mauricio Sierra
“You could always put a shirt on.”
“It’d ruin my Murderous Bitch aesthetic.”
— Mia Corvere, Darkdawn