#mirajai

[simplecollection-imvu]

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[dreadlarkcrew]

Regrets (Slick Story)

He was too late.

Sitting forward on the tiny wooden stool he’d salvaged from the barn’s fire, Slick sat with his hands dangling between his knees; the fingers twitching from pain and exhaustion. Bleeding and charred, he cared very little; he’d fucking been too late.

The smoke churned around him; the scent of burning wood and flesh filling his nostrils as his breath heaved out of his chest raggedly. Why didn’t he get there in time? He should have-

A shout of anger burst from his throat as he stood; toppling the stool, but the shout wasn’t deep and didn’t have the reverberating, thunderous sound that would have done it justice. Turning, Slick’s fist drove into a wooden support beam; one of the only ones left unhindered from the fire as he punched it again and again with bare knuckles.

Malrynne didn’t deserve to die; he should have –BEEN- there. Not many accepted Slick for what he was; a male trapped in a female’s body. He knew when he was only four and a half, and his father had taken him to buy a dress. Something frilly and god-awful and –pink-. Instead, he’d chosen a sword and braies; thick leather ones that would protect him should the need arise. Slick’s father saw him then for what he was; and Sorche ceased to be. His mother wouldn’t allow his name to be changed; in fact, it was his mother who had turned them both out on the streets to fend for themselves, but his father had taken everything in stride, and given him his new moniker: Slick.

His father had found someone he’d known before who had taught him to bind his breasts; what was the less painful. He’d found Slick someone who would cut off his long ebony hair to the shaggy style it was now; shaved on the sides. He’d even taken him to the arena’s to watch the fighters, and let him train with the best of them. Slick grew stronger; broader.  While his body was female, he built his muscles and became a short, compact powerhouse; his father couldn’t have been more proud. His father never faltered in his love for him, and always accepted who he was.

Always understanding; always calm. His death was a weakening blow, and Slick’s mother found it in her best interest to simply ignore his letters. Both of them were –dead- to her. It was the honor guard that his mother had sent after him that had been the final blow; the guard sent to deal with those who were deemed ‘inadequate to a bloodline’.  Slick had stood, ready to face his maker and be reunited with his father…when the troll had arrived.

Mira’jai was a god-send; she’d taken him in and cleaned him up. Never questioning his choices, he stated that he was male, and so he was. And she made sure that anyone who ran with them knew it. Being sent to the Vengeance was an honor. It had meant that Mira had trusted him to watch over those there; those who needed it. Those…who couldn’t protect themselves.

Another fist drove into the wood as he thought to Malrynne; he could picture her. Sweet, kind… she’d offered him a free drink with a wink and swish of her hips, and had won his heart all in one night. He’d taken to, when not on duty, perching in a corner on chairback; waiting for someone to get unruly or make an unwanted move. At the sound of her squeal of indignation, Slick would be off the chair and at the man’s throat. There were slurs thrown; there always were, but it wasn’t about him. It was about Malrynne.

And she was dead.

Thumping his head against the support, he winced at the pain that resided in his hand before looking towards the Vengeance. Malrynne’s body was burned with the others and he couldn’t force himself to go; to pay his respects to the dead when all he could see was her smiling face. He knew enough to tell it wasn’t love; but it was enough to give him hope that he could find it.

One day.

“Thank you, Malry.”

Clenching his broken hand at his side, Slick left the still smoldering barn and made his way back to the ship to let the Captain know that the Dreadlark was on it’s way.

kurel-andiel  (TAGGED FOR A LOOK AT YO ALLY)

[volatilebrigade]

Troll the Dock

“Bring ‘er in’t port, Sorche…Ah be jumpin’ t’ tie’er off. Make sure she be trimmed an’ ready t’go b’first’s light tomorrow…” As soon as the Dreadlark was close enough to the docks, she leapt down onto the wood. Mira’jai hadn’t planned on docking in the same place as the Vengeance, but her latest cargo was to be delivered to a concerned pair from the city. Sheathing her dagger’s, she caught a rope that was tossed to her as they pulled into dock; tying off quickly before calling up, “Pr’pare de transport. ‘Ave Ryara check it ovah before Ah get back, yah?”

As the darker-skinned woman approached, Mira received a nod in confirmation before the woman began barking orders. Grinning, the taller trolless shook her head with a snort; she was going to miss the tiny powerhouse, but it was good thing they were doing, and Kurel could use a woman like Sorche at his back for the times she was in his company. Fierce, loyal, and rabid, she drew blades first and then looked to approval from Mira’jai. Sorche would afford Kurel that same respect, without question.

Peering down to the end of the dock, Mira’jai’s gaze settled on one of her own; his body long and lithe, as all males of her race were wont to be. Shamelessly, she allowed herself a thorough perusal of his form while he continued to chat up…

Ah, Marguerite. The human woman that frequented the docks and often times, many sailor’s bedrolls. For a brief moment, Mira thought about leaving her brother troll to his own devices, but as the woman sashayed away, she couldn’t help herself.

Striding towards him, she stopped behind his right shoulder; watching him as he watched the woman walk away before speaking, “Mi’ wanna re’tink d’at, bruddah. D’at femme be like t’rowin’ a cleft’oof sausage down a ‘allway…” A grin appeared on the woman’s lips, as she tugged on the piercing in the middle of her lip.

(credit to: shadows-siren)

His head was tilted and his body leaned to the side as he watched Marguerite walk off, licking his lips. Mira's voice had distracted him, and, surprisingly, he looked over at her, laughing out at what she had to say.

"Yah?" He wondered out loud, rubbing at his chin.

Unlike her, his lips hadn't been pierced, but his ears had to the high heavens. Large wooden plugs sat in the stretched holes in his lobes, and at least four smaller piercings, some with plugs and some simply with a ring through them, had raced up the length of his ear.

One hand stuffed in the pocket of linen pants, that hung on him well but loose, held on by a drawstring that normally peeked out under a white tunic, but he was bare from the waist up save for a necklace. "Jah t'ink I should be considerin' oderwise, maybe... joo?" He grinned, the tone of it coming through as a joke, but he did saunter a bit closer to her, looking her over shamelessly.

[hiddenorigamicyclone]

Pass this smile: (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ to anyone who made you smile this year. Thank you for making me smile :) Happy New Year! ♥ヽ(ﾟ◇ﾟ )ﾉ

Uwah, th-thank you Mirajai-san!

[hiddenorigamicyclone]

@mirajai

Ah, th-thank you very much for the follow! -bows-