C’oretta opened the door and sighed heavily as she got the lights. She really needed to finish this task. “All right come on Violet let’s get you a snack and in your bed while I get this work done.”
The little piggy squealed happily, running around her legs as C’oretta set out snacks and made sure Violet’s bed was in the big window, right in the light.
Once her little buddy was snuggling in for a nap, C’oretta went to the table where the next few boxes waited.
Her childhood home was terribly empty and quiet; she had given away or sold some of the furnishings and general items, though some furniture remained, covered in tarps and mothballs. She hadn’t swept or dusted in awhile, but would do so to get the worst out before having a maid service come in and scour the place top to bottom.
For now, her plan was to rent it out; she had taken over all the financials and property, given her mother’s condition, but the thought of living here herself wasn’t a good one. Not yet. It also just wasn’t terribly convenient, truth be told, especially with her company moving to Gridania.
Khell had owned the house outright, thanks to his Coliseum winnings, but taxes and utilities and other bills still had to be paid and if it weren’t for her family’s long-time retainers (who also had to be paid on schedule) helping her out, C’oretta would be in much more trouble.
But before she could rent the place, she had to go through her parents’ possessions. Some had gone to Mama in her hospital room, to keep her happy and comfortable. There was a lot in storage though, some C’oretta hadn’t seen in years—if ever!--that required decisions.
This box, for instance, seemed to be full of old newspapers and flyers for both Khell and C’leiha’s old performances.
“The Clanless Triumphs Again! Khell dominates in a barefisted brawl against the Redrock Brothers!”
“...the ballet’s shining star, C’leiha Tehn, elevated the entire show with her sublime performance…”
“Khell the Clanless on Exhibition! Witness the Fisticuffs Master take on all-comers!”
“The Divine C’leiha Tehn will dance for the Sultana’s birthday celebrations, a gift from the Traders themselves…”
C’oretta sorted through the papers. Some of the fulsome praise seemed the genuine gushing of excited fans, some of it exaggerated to get people into seats.
If life had gone according to her parents’ plans, there might have been stacks of papers praising C’oretta’s performances—or bemoaning how she did not live up to her mother’s graceful beauty. She had never even considered the Coliseum, though she might have done all right there.
C’oretta shook her head and closed up the box. She liked her adventuring life just fine, and not dealing with quite as much attention as the Warrior of Light—many of the articles and reports and face-to-face interactions her friend dealt with sounding a little too much like the ones in her box, set aside on the “keep” pile.
Their Champion could have that praise; it was earned, even if some of it was given less sincerely than others.
With Violet snoring away in the sunlight, C’oretta began sorting the next box.
Khell - Rihan - she/her - space pirate - jack of all trades -erratic fighter - favors a pair of disruptors - collector of tourist trap knick knacks (it’s about the story, not the value) - very talented at putting her foot in her mouth - somehow keeps befriending bleeding heart types who drag her into things like RESCUE missions (of people who can’t even PAY. Ugh)
Rren - Synth (currently disembodied, lives in Khell’s ship computer, manifest as a hologram) - they/them - space pirate - hacker (it’s easier to infiltrate a computer when you are a much more clever computer) - dry sense of humor (plays up that their android body did not have emotions) - horrible fashion sense - makes reckless/foolish decisions because they feel like they calculated all of the odds - will derail what Khell is doing and send her on rescue missions (but only if no one else is around who can help, and they think they have decent odds of getting out unscathed... sometimes they miscalculate)
These two irritate the crap out of each other, but also would kill or die for each other.
No matter how terribly the day, or the week, or even the month had gone, Alleirys -always- looked forward to the nights when she went out to the club with her friends. She could lose herself in the flashing lights and pounding bass and hot air and the writhing mass of sweaty bodies. It helped her relax to move and feel and worry only about the music. Whether all eyes or only a few locked onto her, she always dressed to kill and danced like she'd never see another day. It caught attention, for sure, but she never minded. Even the cutest guys wanted only one thing and she never gave it to them. She'd dance with them, but at the end of the night, she only wanted to have fun and dance. She didn't go there looking for a one-night-stand and she -definitely- didn't go to land herself a boyfriend. And tonight started like any other of those nights. She wore a skintight shirt with flouncy ruffles on the sleeves and hem, cutoff short-shorts, fishnets, and her favorite heeled fur-trimmed booties. A vast array of multicolored beaded bracelets decorated her wrists and she had her lengthy green hair secured in a high ponytail. The cold night air bit at her skin now, but she knew later that it would feel wonderful after a night spent dancing and sweating. She flashed the bouncer her I.D. and immediately after walking through the door she found herself greeted with all the familiar sights and sounds. It didn't take her long to smile widely and dive right in, losing herself easily in the crowd that throbbed and pulsed in one united rhythm. Nearly an hour into the night, she paused to bounce over to the bar and grab a drink. While she sat down and sipped at her glass of water, she eyed the crowd. A brow perked when she spied a face she remembered. She hadn't seen him here before, but she'd recognize those tattoos anywhere. And if he had spent the whole time sitting over there in the booth like a recluse, he probably hadn't seen her. And if he had, then he probably felt a little shy about approaching. She remembered the conversation they'd had the day before. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of her lips and she set her empty glass down. She wove back into the crowd and to the center, where she began to scoot people around to create an open circle. Individuals and small groups took turns occupying the center of the circle, then moving out so someone else could have a chance. While that happened, Alleirys made her way over to where Khell sat, no doubt left by his friends. He didn't really strike her as the club-going type, but then again, she didn't exactly meet the societal expectations for a woman, either. Without a word she took his hand and made him stand up. Grinning impishly at him, she led him through the crowd to the center circle while a rather upbeat and fast-paced song came on. It took him a few moments to realize what was happening and at first he grew anxious and fidgety. But when she took his hand again and pulled him close, thoroughly lost in the music and fearless before the crowd, he started to relax. His attention focused on her and she made sure it stayed that way. Every roll of her body and wind of her hips stayed close to him, right up against him, holding his gaze and making him forget about the other people. He forgot that he didn't normally dance. He forgot that being the center of attention made him occasionally feel sick. How could any of that matter when he had the focus of the most beautiful woman there? And when she turned around and pressed her back against him, he saw things he'd never seen before. A blacklight tattoo scattered a constellation of stars and planets across her back and shoulders and the tops of her arms. That explained why he hadn't seen any ink on her the day before; she had it, she was apparently just very sneaky. The song ended and so did the dance, but she didn't leave him totally hanging. She lightly grabbed two sections of his hair and gently pulled his head down to her level before placing a light kiss on the tip of his nose. 'See you at work,' she wrote on his chest before turning away. Khell spent the rest of the night grinning, unable to sleep and constantly thinking about her. The sweet little tattoo artist had some tricks up her sleeves yet. berserkerakarash
So, sometimes when I’m not writing, I’m doodling. I don’t consider myself great at it, though I also don’t consider myself to be that bad at it either. I find though, so long as I’m creating something one way or another, I’m pretty happy.
I drew Khell a few days back, just to get my brain back on her story. I figured it turned out ok, so I’m willing to share.
Khell had stood adamantly until Fenway had answered her, and had immediately felt foolish about how little the answer meant to her. A Principal, it turned out, worked directly for the King, and answered only to him. Principal Valen was the Principal of this area.
Principal Valen was one of several Principals, though Fenway had only heard of a few others. In other words, Principal Valen was a very…
Sprogs and Cogs piloted the Copper Cicada up to one of the long wooden walkways that jutted from the side of Fobiah. It looked like an ordinary dock to Khell at first, only there was no water holding up the wooden docks. Instead they seemed to float out in the open air.
Several other ships were docked at Fobiah as well. There was a huge steamer that Khell thought looked like a Mississippi…
Khell did not get the answers she wanted. Not right away at least. It wasn’t that the crew of the Copper Cicada didn’t try to answer her questions, but instead it seemed that the answers weren’t there in a way that Khell would like.
When she’d asked where they were, Fenway told her quite straightforward that they were on the deck of the Copper Cicada. He even mentioned that they’d just left The…
