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[P]  let the dogs howl

Offline Sis Lautna Apr 23 2020, 9:26 AM
#1
  • Corzya
  • Age: 32
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Dire
  • Rank: Quartermaster
  • Total Posts: 28
  • Played by: G
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Sis was more than used to spending her time at sea. Things shifted out there, time prone to slip the rug from under your feet every time you came back to port. That’s why Howlers existed, why they were so valuable in their time and efforts. To keep each other abreast of their movements, for all the needed gossip and rumours to land where they needed to be was no small thing. So why was she in the dark now? Someone hadn’t done their FUCKING job.

She was not blind. She saw the way everyone’s eyes slid away from her as she climbed the rough wooden steps, the labyrinthine layers of the Vatican one that had been her home for many years now. She knew them as she knew herself, even if their name was foreign to her. She knew the way their hearts beat and their muscles heaved at lines and ropes and the heavy weights of cargo, to and fro. She knew the gleam in their eye at a fight and the hooded signs of deceit that lurked in the corners of her vision. This said nothing more than trap, than trouble, than a lion around the corner. Still, it was too late now. Whatever it was that waited for her could only be faced. A quiet look over her shoulder sent Mini to attention, the sharp eyed human woman knew her. “Go get ready to cast off then, love. I’m sure we’ll have a job lined up in no time an’ you know me, I don’t like to waste time.” Go be ready to pull off. With a dark look and a nod, Mini did so. If she was dead, Sis did hope Mini wouldn’t hesitate. The girl was her right hand, one of the people she’d hauled out of the fire and fed so regularly as to have her life in her hands. Hopefully, she’d make the right choice.

The summons had been practically thrown her way as soon as they’d caught up to the heaving behemoth that was the Vatican. No name, no signature, which was unusual but not yet an alarm bell. But everything since then had been, and the normally upbeat lady had a stone cold face and hard eyes, sharp and watchful. Nothing about it but to commit now. She pushed the heavy doors to the royal chambers with her customary brash exuberance, smile fixed and eyes hard.

But it wasn’t ol’ Churchill sitting up there. Her expression doesn’t change but the cogs spun. Alastor. This one’d been making noise, as was a pirate’s wont. She’d known, they’d all known. But it wasn’t her spot to give much of a shit about it. Decisions like that weren’t hers to make, and she didn’t put much store on anything unless it was sitting directly in her path. This hadn’t been, but here it was. What had happened in her six months at sea?

Someone had really fucked up. It might’ve been HER.