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[celeryandhobbes]

Writing prompt (to be used later probably): 

person's dreams come to life around them and Fuck Shit Up

[celeryandhobbes]

sepiaru replied to your post: Presented without context!

wats black blood

Gonna transcribe a conversation between me and another fran who read this and asked me what's up with the stuff! I was just gonna use "black blood" as a generic tag for anything pertaining to this particular universe in case I ever decided to add more.

Fran: So, what's the backstory on this story? sorcerers and witches?

Han: let's see, where to start

Svetlana is Fae, which humans mostly wiped out a thousand years prior to when this is set

we'll say they were decimated

Fran: so, only 90% of what they once were?

Han: and humans look on them with superstition and distrust, most not even believing they exist any more

yes

Fran: ok, interesting

Han: and magic users are pretty rare

so it's kind of a big deal to meet a sorcerer

the black spot indicates members of a cult of demon summoners, its size indicating strength

it leaches all the color from a person, hence Svetlana's hair and skin being extremely pale

it also marks them with black veins which become more and more prevalent with how powerful they are

this is shunned greatly

people are terrified of black blood summoners

so Svetlana and Isaac both go to great lengths to hide it

Caroline knows Isaac intimately so he doesn't bother to put the glamour back up for her

Fran: though, the color leaching doesn't cause any real harm, it's more of just a mark?

Han: yeah

just a physical manifestation of what they do

Fran: gotcha

Han: a corruption, but without the whole sickness aspect

people assume her coloration is just a fae thing

Fran: so, does Caroline have the pigment drained as well, or is that why they aren't together anymore?

Han: no, she's a normie

just the lady of her castle

Fran: ok

Han: takes care of it because her dad is in failing health and her little brother is a shithead

Fran: was their betrothal arranged? (are all betrothals arranged?)

Han: yeah, Isaac doesn't hold land as a typical lord does but his abilities as a sorcerer are valued highly so he was able to marry well

her father was in charge of it and I haven't worked all the details of why it failed but part of it was because she couldn't bear children

and, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, her little brother the shithead is also gay and refuses to marry and that's why everyone thinks he's such a shithead

he's also really meek and shit

Fran: Is he out or in the closet?

Han: veeeeeeeeeeeerry closeted

Caroline's the only one who knows

  THERE THAT'S IT DID I ANSWER OKAY?? If not I will try to clarify!!!

[celeryandhobbes]

Presented without context!

This is from a thing I've been working on off and on (mostly in my head, sorry if interested in reading more) for the last year or so. If I feel inspired to write on it more, I will most certainly post it!

-----

                “Nothing happened. In fact, I just got here about an hour ago.” He breathed a sigh, half relief and half disappointment. “I figured I’d check in on you since the Lady Caroline was apparently trying to poison you with alcohol last night. You know she sent me to the servants’ quarters? She said she would’ve done as much for you but you are of high enough rank to merit an actual guest room, albeit a dusty one. She could never appear an ingracious host.”

                He grinned at that. Caroline had always been prickly about appearances and would never let it get out that she mistreated a guest even if she openly loathed them otherwise. He wasn’t quite sure what Caroline felt about him right just now, all things considered. “Well, how did I finally go down last night? With poise, I hope?”

                She laughed. “You demanded a bed, essentially. One with no one in it. Loudly and in front of everyone. She was so furious she sent you to this abandoned wing of the castle and told all the servants that you were not to be disturbed for any reason, even for breakfast or to lay a fire. I wonder how long that will last, though,” she said, rising to hands and knees. He couldn’t even cough out a protest as she proceeded to straddle him, her shift draping down to reveal nearly the entirety of her breasts. She was evidently not one for smallclothes, either, he judged. “I must say, I was sorely tempted to take advantage while you were sleeping. It would appear not even the black blood or being a great and powerful sorcerer can save you from morning wood,” she said with a grin, rocking her pelvis back and forth gently against his rapidly reemerging erection. “And to think, you gave all this up,” she raised her arms to indicate the castle around them, dropping her weight fully against his pelvis. Her nipples were erect under the thin cotton of the shift, her hair an inelegant cloud around her head. “I do wonder why. Caroline is not an unattractive woman, physically. She has a sour personality, but means well.”

                He swallowed hard, unsure of what he should do. Tentatively he rested his hands on her thighs just above her knees. “That’s really what you want to talk about?” he managed, raising his eyebrows.

“I shouldn’t think so. This has been a long time coming. You’ve been either avoiding or ignoring my advances and it is quite time for me to collect,” she smirked, plucking at the straps of her dress. She pulled them off her shoulders and let the top half of the dress drop to rest around her lower ribcage. The black blotch under her sternum, with its spidery veins branching out, would surely have put off anyone unfamiliar with the black blood, but he was well-accustomed to the sight, given his own smaller mark in the same location. He glanced down at his own torso, noticing for the first time that his glamour had failed; his skin and hair had paled significantly. That, or she had removed it somehow. He looked back up and found himself nose to nose with the Fae woman. Her eyelids slowly closed, heavy lashes obscuring her pale eyes as her lips met his. She tasted how a forest smells after a spring rain, woodsy and fresh and clean and it suddenly reminded him that his breath must be awful. He attempted to pull back to do something about it but she dug her sharp fingernails into his shoulders just hard enough that he no longer protested. Her tongue was velvety soft and warm, probing at his to play. The grip she had on his shoulders lightened and she ran her hands up his neck, cradling his head and digging her fingers into his hair. He decided then to go with it, sliding his hands further up her thighs and up to her smallish breasts. He traced delicate circles around her nipples—just barely pink enough to discern from her snowy, translucent skin—until he felt her teeth close fiercely on his lip. Taking that as a cue, he left one hand on her breast and snaked the other down to her mound, the hair there either trimmed or naturally short; he was not sure with Fae. He parted her nether lips and probed for her clitoris, grinning as she bit his lip again, moaning softly. She shifted slowly, pulling her pelvis upward, ready to reposition for him to enter when the door banged open and Caroline herself burst in in a swirl of skirts and lace. Svetlana backed off slowly, rolling off him with a smirk.

                “I suppose the empty bed was only meant to mean empty of me,” Caroline drawled, her voice softly dangerous. “Had I known that you two were… an item… I would’ve just put you in a room together and not bothered with trying to drown you with enough wine to make you pliable in my hands. A waste of good wine.”

                Isaac struggled to find something appropriate to say when Svetlana spoke up next to him, breasts still bared for the lady to see. “Not to worry, Lady Caroline, you’ve made him plenty pliable in mine,” she said, back straightening and hair puffing up, looking for all the world like a cat posturing for a fight. “And to be completely honest, this was all my idea. The poor fellow was sleeping innocently like a newborn babe before I got here.”

                “Out!” Caroline erupted, flinging an arm at the door. “And cover up, you little minx!” Svetlana cackled low in her throat, shrugging her dress back up around her shoulders. She plucked up her other clothes and padded carelessly past the lady of the castle. Caroline stared after her, narrowing her eyes at her swinging hips and haughty gait. She whirled on Isaac once again, a golden curl falling carelessly across her forehead. “So what have you to say for yourself? You are aware that it is generally frowned upon to fornicate in someone else’s home, right?”

               “You know, Caroline, I am aware, and I don’t care. I get sick of abiding by custom and courtesy everywhere I go. I understand you are all about appearances and that this will probably get out as soon as a servant catches wind of it. I'll do as much damage control as I am able where that is concerned." He paused, searching her face for some sign, some hint, of what she was thinking. He found nothing and barreled on. "You can’t possibly feel any sort of possessiveness over me anymore, though, can you?” He pointedly avoided mentioning their broken betrothal, so many years before. Caroline always made a point to allude to it whenever she could. He could never quite figure out if she resented it being done with or if she simply liked to make him uncomfortable. He often leaned to the latter; her idea of fun was making people squirm under her scrutiny.

                “No, Isaac, I really don’t. You could have at least told me, though.”

                “It all happened this morning. Prior to this we had just been traveling together as companions. Admittedly, there was a lot of sexual tension. I suppose she got tired of it and decided to make her move since I’m a huge idiot and chose to ignore all the signs,” he said with a slight grimace, pulling the blankets and furs up to his chin. Caroline laughed and sat on the edge of the bed, folding her hands daintily in her lap. She had a look on her face of a young girl gossiping during her lessons.

                “Great Father, protect us all,” she sighed. “I believe I am due for an explanation.”

[celeryandhobbes]

Newtprompt

I had fun with this! Even though it came out a little mopier than I had initially planned. All the same, here it is, in its second draft glory! Takes place after the movie ends and Newt is trying to figure out what to do with himself without kaiju.

                The UV faces led him down a familiar path. He frowned at the shop where he had first met Chau. Shining the flashlight on the storefront pillars, he stared at the little kaiju face. Something was different about it. Someone had added tiny arrows, disguised in the form of antennae to the little inscription. Newt licked his lips and straightened, glancing down the street in the apparent direction of the arrows. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but then, Chau had been very clever with maintaining his secrecy. Resolving himself, he tore down the street, apologizing loudly when he bumped into anyone. Every now and again he produced the flashlight on a likely signpost or graffiti-covered wall to make sure he was still going the right way. Some of the insignias hadn’t been updated, but enough had the new markings that he didn’t lose heart. He rounded a corner and found himself in an empty alleyway; two doors on opposing buildings and a heap of black trash bags were all that marked it. He frowned again, chewing his lip, combing both doors with the flashlight. No kaiju face greeted him. Sighing, he sat on the stoop of the nearest door and stared at the ground. He perked a bit when he saw a well-disguised outline of what appeared to be a trap door. Shuffling over to it on hands and knees, he held the flashlight in his mouth, the grim expression of the UV kaiju reflected on his face as he searched for a way to open it. There was some script beneath the face, Cantonese by the look of it, and thoroughly unreadable to Newt. He collapsed in frustration, unable to budge the door, banging his head on it a few times before lying still. Crying out when it bumped open, he backed up and locked eyes with a woman he had seen in Chau’s company before. Before she could close the door back, clearly recognizing him by the grimace on her face, he threw himself at her and they both went tumbling down the short set of stairs.

                “You! Get off of me! You have no business being here! Chau, CHAU! Someone get the boss!” she shrieked, pushing the diminutive scientist away from her. She stood and grabbed a gun from a rack near the stairs and aimed it at his face. Murmuring voices from the hallway moved closer.

                “Whoa! Hey! There’s really no need for that, you know! I just came by to talk!” he stammered, hands in the air. “I just… wanted to talk.”

                She didn’t lower the gun but raised an eyebrow. “And what would we have to say to you? You took all the glory that should’ve been Mr. Chau’s to begin with!”

                “Wait what?! Yeah, because that guy totally worked as hard as I did to uncover all the inner workings of the kaiju. I applied myself for the good of mankind, he just looked to turn a profit!” He squeaked as she jabbed the barrel roughly against his forehead. “Okay, sorry, sorry, wrong thing to say, I get it. But I’m not here to cause trouble, I swear!”

                “That’ll be enough, Minh,” came the familiar, rough voice. His steps rang with metallic clinking as he strode into view, backed by three of his cronies. “What do you want, Geiszler?”

                “Newt, please. I just wanted to chat. I’ve been feeling pretty shitty since we won.”

                “Oh? Medals of honor and peace prizes and enough money for you to coast the rest of your days aren’t good enough for you?” Chau sneered, gesturing for his thugs to keep their distance. Minh backed down also, dropping the angle of the gun by only a minute amount.

                “Dude, listen! You have to understand some of what I’m going through. What am I gonna do with myself now? Kaiju were my life, man! And your livelihood! I just wanted to get some weight off my chest with someone I thought would understand. I thought maybe we could, you know, have a drink and talk about the old days.”

                Though his eyes were obscured by the ridiculous glasses he affected, Newt could tell that Chau was rolling them. “Newt, it’s been a week. You need to calm down and go bask in the affection of the masses.”

                “Do you at least have some samples I could poke through?”

                “Get out.”

                “Please? Dude, I am desperate,” he said, going to his knees.

                “Oh, for fuck’s sake, stand up. If I give you a parasite, will you leave and promise never to come back?” Newt’s face lit up with unbridled glee and he nodded emphatically. “Fine. Come with me. Gentlemen, as you were.”

                They walked down the corridor which opened up into an opulent red- and gold-decorated room reminiscent of Chau’s former hideout. There were fewer people working with fresh samples, but there were still shelves upon shelves of preserved organs, tissue samples, and what appeared to be a repurposed kiddie pool with seven or eight kaiju skinmites gamboling about in it. Newt’s eyes grew to the size of saucers as he took in his surroundings, still just as fascinated and in love with everything kaiju as he had been before they had sealed off the Breach. The sharp, pungent scent of ammonia hung in the air as he leaned down and stared at the giant bugs. “You mean it? I can have one?”

                “Only if you promise to take good care of it. You have to keep an ammonia bath handy for it or it’ll die. They eat—“

                “I know what they eat, Jesus. I want that one!” he pointed excitedly to one that was attempting to climb out of the tub. Chau snapped his fingers and one of his associates picked it up and put it in a dark plastic bag, thrusting it roughly into Newt’s arms.

                “Now, if I see you around here again, I’m going to let Minh shoot you. Get!” Chau said, gripping Newt by the shoulders and walking him bodily to the stairs at the end of the corridor. “And, uh, hey, chin up, kid.”

                Newt climbed the stairs in a daze, an incredibly stupid grin painted across his face. He barely noticed when the trap door slammed shut behind him. Blithely and blindly he made his way back to the complex. He stopped by a janitor’s closet and grabbed two industrial-sized bottles of ammonia and made his way to his room. He opened the bag and the skinmite wriggled free, mandibles waving as it took in its new surroundings. It had several black spots on its back and seemed particularly interested in a pile of laundry in the corner.

                “So, what should I name you?” he asked, flopping on his bed, pillowing his face in his hands as he watched the mite groom its legs. “Phineas! Charles! Ephram! Newt, Jr.! Francis!” He rolled on the bed, clutching a pillow. “Perhaps you’re female. Jillian! Beverly! Claudette!” The mite stared at him, five eyes blinking in turns. It chattered quietly as it groomed, seemingly oblivious to Newt’s fawning. “Anastasia!” He was about to spout off more names when a knock sounded at his door. “Ahhh, shit. Do I hide you? Yeah, let’s hide you. Back in the bag, Scooterpuff!” He corralled the critter back into the bag and threw some laundry over it. Finger-combing his hair, he peered through the peephole on the door and saw none other than Hermann Gottlieb staring back, looking uncomfortable as always. He grinned despite himself, opening the door.

                “Newton,” Hermann said by way of greeting. “What stinks in here?” He limped over to the beanbag chair and plopped down, propping his cane up against the adjacent wall.

                Newt’s face showed several expressions in succession; excitement, deep thought, anguish, and finally a happy resignation. “I got a pet,” he explained, scrambling over to the pile of laundry that had started to quiver.

                Hermann’s eyes narrowed. “Do I want to know? Ugh! Why would you want one of those things as a pet?” Newt held the mite out to him, belly and legs first, grinning widely. Hermann cringed away, grabbing his cane and brandishing it at the wobbly critter. “You know, they won’t let you keep that here.”

                “No one has to know about it. I figure I can just keep the place really clean to explain the ammonia smell and these things can actually live off canned cat food pretty handily, so everyone will just think I’ve got a cat!”

                “Newton, that is the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard. They wouldn’t let you have a cat, either.”

                “Faugh! I’ll use the generous sum of money they gave me to get a villa on the bay, then. I’m keeping it. Er, him! See the scale pattern between the fourth and fifth set of legs?”

                “Please, Newton, I am not interested in learning how to sex kaiju skin parasites. I came down here to see how you were doing, but apparently ‘disturbed and insane’ is still the standard,” Hermann said, sighing and leaning back on the beanbag, pinching the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger.

                “Well I’m doing just fine, thank you,” Newt retorted, nose in the air. “Much better, in fact, since I got my little pal here to keep me company. So, what’re you gonna do now?” He put the mite back on the floor where it scuttled over to inspect Hermann’s shoe. “I mean, now that the kaiju are gone. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and I really just don’t know what I’ll do anymore.”

                “You could always go back to school. As a professor, I mean.”

                “Yeah, and teach ancient history.” Newt rolled his eyes.

                “Don’t be like that, kaiju are an important part of our world now. Yes, it will be trivial now that they’re gone, but I can see you finding decent employment with your knowledge and skills,” Hermann replied. He gave an awkward, forced-looking smile. “I know you’ll figure out something. Myself, I’m going back to England. I’ll have a quiet house in the countryside and I’ll commute an hour to university every day and I will enjoy every second of it. Tea whenever I want it, with lots of milk and sugar, and never so much as an earthquake to upset my peace. I think I will like that.”

                “Tch, at least your skills are still useful. I have literally noth—“ He was cut off as Hermann lunged from his beanbag chair and shook him by the shoulders.

                “Listen. To. Me! You are useful, Newton Geiszler, and you will move on even though your precious kaiju are gone! Now cut out all this useless moping and feed your stupid giant pill bug, it looks hungry! If I hear you lamenting your life again I will bring my cane into this! You will move on!”

                Newt sank back onto his bed as Hermann released him and stumped back over to the beanbag, grabbing his cane and straightening his sweater. He bent to give the mite a tentative pat on the head, nodded to Newt, and left the way he came in, slamming the door behind him. Newt sighed and lifted the mite up onto the bed with him. It chittered and inspected his face with its mandibles. He laughed and scratched its carapace, rolling onto his back. The mite crawled to his chest and settled down for a nap. “Maybe he’s right. You seem to like me well enough. Maybe I can convince Chau to give me a female and I can breed you!” He stared at the ceiling, sighing. “I’ll figure something out.”

[celeryandhobbes]

Chapter Six

                Brightsun trotted up to Ta’aku, his long, black ponytail thumping against his burgundy plate. The troll raised a hand in greeting, which the elf clasped firmly. “Your turn today!” he said breathlessly.

                “Oh yeah? Do you know to whom she’s going to be doing whatever it is she’s going to do?” The troll’s face was amused, contrasting sharply with the elf’s concern.

                “No, but she mentioned the cliff so I figured you’d be better suited to it than I, what with levitate and all,” he said, extravagant brows knitting.

                Ta’aku grinned and popped his knuckles. “All right then. You know you could just put your fancy bubble on them too.”

                “Ahh, but Denborn certainly proved her worth! She lasted far longer than I thought she would and even implemented a bit of healing into her bear technique! You have to admit you were impressed. She’ll be on the team that slays Deathwing, mark me,” he said as they began to mosey towards the cliff.

                “You really think so? You think Seedcoat would let her have that honor?”

                “The captain is very capable but definitely not hungry for glory. She’s gruff sometimes but she really wants for everyone in her regiment to succeed. Everyone who has ever trained under her has been thrice as prepared as any other recruits in whatever effort requires them. Remember my sister, Hen? Seedcoat didn’t want to take her because she was a priest and she seems to have problems accepting pure casters into her training program, but Sis insisted. And she went on to kill the Lich King while Seedcoat was content to hold back hordes of Scourge while Sis and her group stormed the citadel. No, she’ll be happy just to see some of this group go on to bigger and better things.”

                Brightsun shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. “So, how do you feel about Scout Sparkfuse?”

                “I like her. She is easy to talk to, despite being a little full of herself.”

                “Do you think she’ll make it on to Deathwing?”

                The troll scratched his chin with one finger. “I think so, but I also think she might strike out on her own at some point.  She doesn’t seem like the type to stay tied to one project for too long. No, don’t give me that look, I’m not saying she’ll flake out on us when we need her most or anything like that. I just think that she won’t stick around once things settle back down. We were talking earlier and apparently she has prospects in Outland. She’s been on some waiting list for years to study the ethereals’ terraforming projects out in Netherstorm.”

                The elf whistled. “Goblins. Always on some crazy quest to make the world better through thoroughly insane means. Speak of the devil, there she is, waiting for us.”

                The goblin sat at the base of the cliff, eyes closed and muttering slightly. The elf and the troll exchanged a glance and Ta’aku cleared his throat quietly. She opened one eye, closed it, and muttered some more, gesturing with her hands briefly before standing to greet them. She was wearing an unfamiliar set of armor, her usual fist weapons and shorts replaced by a mace and shield and kilt, respectively. She looked exceedingly uncomfortable in the more stately healing gear. “Hey, fellas. Don’t tell me she needs both of you for this,” she said, characteristic confidence lacking from her pronouncement. Ta’aku opened his mouth to reassure her but the elf spoke first.

                “No, Scout, we just happened to cross paths fortuitously. Are you sure you want to submit to this? You could stand up and tell Seedcoat you don’t think you need a pure healing test.”

                “Sunshine, what are you talking about?” Seedcoat strode up, an extremely anxious-looking Gorren behind her. He was without his armor or weapons, merely wearing soft leather kneeshorts and a loose-fitting linen shirt and no shoes. “You havin’ doubts, there, Sparkfuse? Need more time to prepare or what?”

                “No, Captain, let’s do this. Whatever you got, let’s have it.” She started by invoking an earth shield to protect Gorren, his eyes following the orbiting rock with interest.

                Seedcoat grinned, clapping Gorren on the back, visibly rocking his footing with the impact. “All right, then. Gorren, you know the drill. This time, though, try not to jump down prematurely.” He gulped, nodded, and approached the cliff, finding hand- and footholds, making a slow ascent. Habanera stared at him, wondering what Seedcoat could possibly be thinking with this stunt. Her gaze drifted to the tauren, who had produced a heavy sack that had been hanging from her belt. She reached inside and pulled out a handful of what appeared to be bloody entrails. Without even a “heads up!” she cocked her arm back and threw it with brutal accuracy, splattering the mess all over the orc’s back. He groaned loudly and climbed higher. A loud flapping and dark shadow passing overhead attracted Habanera’s attention and she shifted her gaze to the sky. Two hippogryphs approached and hovered above where Gorren was climbing, cawing and shrieking with anticipation. They tangled with one another briefly before the larger of the two won out and dived for the hapless orc.

                “Fuck, are you insane?!” Habanera exploded, beginning to cast a heal at Gorren, who had just received a wicked gash across his left shoulder blade.

                “There are those who have said so, I personally like to think I’m innovative beyond what this world is ready for,” Seedcoat shouted back, grinning wickedly as she took in the goings-on. The hippogryphs tangled again and the second rushed forward and bit at Gorren’s back with a razor-sharp beak. Habanera grit her teeth again and cast another heal on him, his flesh slowly knitting back closed as the water ran over it. Her earth shield deflected a reaching claw as it orbited, drawing an irritated screech from the beast. Gorren climbed ever higher, unseen handholds paving his way to the top of the cliff. Scowling, Habanera decided to take the initiative and launch a volley of lightning bolts at the hippogryph that was currently attacking. Seedcoat had never said that she couldn’t go on the offensive during this test. In fact, she hadn’t given any instructions at all. Taking that as reassurance, she continued to pelt the beast with lava and lightning and shocks until the beast flagged and began to retreat, all the while throwing an intermittent heal at the poor warrior who was stolidly making his way up the cliff.

                Seedcoat continued to smile as she watched. Gorren’s climbing had gotten a lot better, as had his passive defense skills. She’d allowed him to hang on to his jewelry and trinkets and he was wisely employing them to dampen the blows from the hippogryphs. She had never seen any of her healers be so bold as to pair offense with their healing and was thoroughly impressed with the goblin. Time to make it interesting, then, she mused, leaning to the ground and picking up a rock. She took a moment to judge and then let it fly. It struck true on the hippogryph’s flank, sending the creature into a screeching rage. Her plan backfired somewhat, however, as the hippogryph turned in mid-air, wings tucked close to its body in a dive that looked to collide directly with where she was standing. Habanera dropped another heal on Gorren and then furrowed her brow as she transferred her earth shield to Seedcoat herself. “Excellent! Great reaction! Well, then, Featherbuns, let’s have it!” She took on an attacking stance, her gnarly axe raised in her right hand, her sizeable, scarred shield on her left. The hippogryph made to dive and feinted upward as she darted out to block it with the shield. It flew upward and circled wide, picking up speed to dive at her again. This time it connected, knocking her on her back, causing her to laugh roughly. Shrieking, it pecked at her face, meeting shield instead as she somehow wrenched her arm and the heavy shield from under the beast’s claw.

                “You aight, Captain?” Ta’aku cupped his mouth and yelled, grinning despite the concerned statement.

                “She is completely nuts,” Habanera breathed, looking for some wound to heal and finding none.

                “Doin’ fine, Blue!” she hollered back, letting loose an exulting laugh once again. Almost casually she knocked back the hippogryph and rolled away from it, standing. The great beast, which had to weigh at least twice as much as the captain, shook its head and quorked. Seedcoat jerked her head upward in a taunting gesture, the semi-intelligent creature perceiving it as well as any human foe. It scratched the ground with a birdlike claw and charged, antlers bared. Habanera held a heal at the ready, studying the tauren’s movements like a hawk. The big tauren sidestepped with a grace belying her size and struck out with her axe, catching a wing and crippling it. The hippogryph screeched in pain and rage and turned around to charge her again. Seedcoat dodged once again, this time striking true, her blow connecting with the beast’s feathered throat. The stroke nearly severed its head and it fell heavily at her feet, spraying her with blood and dirt. Habanera couldn’t stop herself from gaping. A sharp whistle from on high caused her to jerk her head up to the cliff, a heal ready to save Gorren should the second hippogryph decide to come back. It was just the orc, however, with two fingers in his mouth and a large, heavy egg in his other hand. He had made it to the top and secured his prize.

                “Captain! I got it! I got the egg!” he shouted triumphantly. She flashed him a quick thumbs-up and cheered wordlessly. Ta’aku stepped forward in line with Habanera and gestured at the orc, who suddenly sprang a few feet in the air with a tiny puff of cloud under his feet. He backed up and took a running start to jump off the cliff. He drifted down slowly, laughing like an excited child as he fell. Habanera couldn’t help but crack a smile at his unbridled mirth.

                “Gorren, I sincerely have to commend you. You are a braver man than most to submit yourself to something like that, willingly or no. Any leftover ails?” the shaman asked, walking up to shake his hands. He shook his head negatively and accepted her compliment with grace. She turned to Seedcoat. “Well, Captain? What do you think?”

                Seedcoat made a show of thinking and then nodded. “You’ll do in a pinch. We didn’t get an entirely fair test, though, once the dumb beast decided to go for me. I suppose I ought to’ve expected that, though. Either way, you show quick thinking and response time. Those are supposedly the most important qualities when healing, or so Tusky Tim over here tells me.” Ta’aku rolled his eyes at the nickname but nodded. “I’ve never seen anyone so bold as to interpret the rules loosely enough to think that they can act offensively in what should be a purely defensive demonstration.”

                “To be perfectly honest, Captain, I’d rather deal with something head on than let the hippogryph tire itself out. Same goes for pretty much any other combat situation. I would also like to let you know that you are completely insane for your methods but I am in the zone because of them. Throwing heals or punches on a target dummy don’t really give you the full adrenaline experience. That alone is enough to force quick-thinking and enhanced reaction time,” she said, fully ready to explain how the chemical worked but Ta’aku waved her down with a discreet gesture.

The captain nodded and grinned, clasping the goblin’s tiny hand in her own, shaking it hard enough to rattle her small body. “Whatever the circumstances, I call this a victory. Now, shall we go get started on those mines?”

[celeryandhobbes]

Chapter Five

Seedcoat banged on Fogglehat’s door with a huge, plated fist. “Hey Fluxwidget! I know you’re in there! I can see the smoke!”

“Go away! I’m brewing a very sensitive potion and the slightest contamination will ruin it!” came back the manic, high-pitched voice.

“Aw, c’mon! I bathed two days ago!”

“No! Although, that is a record for you. You sick, Captain?”

“No, but I will break down this door if you don’t come open it by the count of ten!” She thumped the door again for emphasis, scratching the dusty soil with her hooves.

“Give me fifteen!” came the frantic reply. She heard glass shattering and bumping and shuffling. She began to count loudly. At nine, the door opened and the goblin appeared, looking harried. “WHAT?!”

His blood-shot eyes widened and his large ears drooped. “THAT’S what you wanted?! Captain, you waste my ti—WHOA! PUT ME DOWN, YOU BRUTE!” She had lifted him by the scruff of his neck, pressing the parchment against his nose. He squirmed and grimaced, flailing an herb-stained finger at the list. Three blobs next to three names marked the camp’s engineers. “Now lemme go! I have to get these flasks off to the Warchief’s regiment in three weeks’ time and those druids are late with their herbs!”

She set him down almost gingerly. “Thank you, darlin’. Would you like me to speak with them? I’ve been keeping Denborn busy. Today, at least.”

“Nah, nah. I’ll give ‘em another day and then you can beat them up and take their lunch money,” he replied, straightening his ridiculous hat. “Anything else you want before I get started again?”

“If I think of anything, I’ll knock,” she said sweetly, batting her ample lashes. The goblin grumbled and stalked back into the longhouse, slamming the door loudly behind him. She laughed and went to seek out Bloodvine, Gorren, Brightsun, and Grazzwick. She met with Bloodvine first, the poor troll stabbing away relentlessly at a test dummy while Duskblade chattered mindlessly and examined her nails. She saw Seedcoat and scrambled for her bow, clumsily nocking and shooting an arrow at close range. It glanced off and landed ignominiously on the ground. Seedcoat narrowed her eyes.

“Duskblade, you are dismissed from target practice. I want you to run the Gauntlet twice and retire for the day,” she said gruffly.

“But Captain—Is this about the stuff I said to Sparkfuse?” the elf spluttered.

“No, it’s for preening when you’re supposed to be training. Deathwing isn’t gonna kill himself, you know. But I am interested to know, though, that you’ve been harassing your SO. Make that three circuits.”

“I just asked her a question! She’s the one that took it the wrong way!”

“Do you want to make it four? You were obviously worried about what you said or you wouldn’t have mentioned it.” Seedcoat’s eyebrows rose expectantly, the perfect picture of a mother scolding an errant child. The elf’s face contorted to an expressions that was a mix of defiance and anger, but she shouldered her bow and wisely departed without another word. The rogue watched her go, breathing a nearly inaudible sigh of relief. She stood at attention before the captain, relaxing as Seedcoat waved an agitated hand at her formality.

“Captain?” Bloodvine asked, inclining her body forward just enough to constitute a bow.

“You’re an engineer, yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She snorted. “Woof, don’t call me ma’am.”

“Yes, Captain. What do you need?”

“’Member those mines I was talking about having crafted? I’ll need you to shadow Sparkfuse and assist her as necessary. Her command is as good as mine on this task. Report to the forge pavilion in about two hours. You will be working with Grazzwick and Brightsun as well. Any questions? Concerns?”

“No, Captain, none pertinent to this task. Thank you for the assignment. When will I be having another day of field duty, if you don’t mind my asking?” She saluted, heavy blue braids swinging about her shoulders.

“If you’re anxious to get out and about, we can go kill some black dragons tomorrow. The Warchief’s effort requires more scales. Do you skin?”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m no good at it. These ol’ hands are made for ripping and tearing, not that delicate work. I’m glad you possess such a skillset. I’ll see who we can rustle up to go with us. We might need a healer, I reckon. I’ll be fine but I don’t want you kids gettin’ scraped and dinged up.” Seedcoat rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

“The, er, the head priest is a skinner also.” A delicate purple flush had risen in Bloodvine’s smooth blue cheeks.

Seedcoat raised an eyebrow. She’d never know Kuriak Bloodvine to stammer. “Very well, then. His pupil did well enough today that I think she deserves a day off at the Harbor tomorrow, or wherever it is you kids get off to on leave.”

“There is a fine tavern in Bilgewater, Captain, and many things to see. May I be dismissed? I’d like to finish up my reps.”

“Sure thing, Bloodvine. Tomorrow at dawn, then. Also, I admire your attitude. You are a good soldier. You’ll go far.” Something akin to a warm smile graced the scarred tauren’s face, distorted though it was.

The troll flushed deeply this time, dropping a low bow. “Thank you, Captain.” She unsheathed her daggers and began to stab away at the dummy once again.

Strange kid, Seedcoat mused as she walked off in search of the other rogue. As luck would have it, both Grazzwick and Brightsun were at the forge tent, arguing over technique as they worked on opposite sides of a small robot, affixing plates with tiny screws. Seedcoat grunted by way of greeting and also at a profession to which her huge, scarred hands would never be suited. The two dropped their tools and stood upright, saluting, the goblin swearing mutedly as his side of the panel drooped, hanging precariously by one screw.

“Fellows, sorry to interrupt your work, but I’m here to delegate more. In a couple of hours I will be having you assist the shaman in making some mines.”

The elf’s expression flickered for a second. His flaring green eyes narrowed, taking on the expression they usually wore when he was telling Seedcoat off for endangering the recruits. “Captain, would you have one of the finest engineers of gnomish specialization work on bombs? Certainly my time is better spent working on more repair constructs for the war effort.” He cringed, as he always did, after making a bold statement towards the captain. She respected that he spoke up but couldn’t let that show so she usually yelled at him to cover it up.

“You disobeyin’ me, son?” She plucked a sprig of grass from the dusty, parched floor of the tent and chewed on the end, appearing casual. The elf visibly cowered, Grazzwick watching in amusement.

“Of course not. I am merely suggesting that my talents may be better utilized elsewhere. Making bombs is one of the most basic things an engineer can do. A novice could handle this task.”

The goblin grunted and spat on the ground, but refrained from speaking. Seedcoat suppressed a chuckle. “Be that as it may, Puffenstuff, but as ol’ Fluxie tells me, we’ve only got three engineers in camp right now. I mean for us to make a lot of mines.” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against one of the pavilion’s support beams.

“I’d be glad to make some mines for ya, Cap. It’s kind of my specialty,” Grazzwick piped up. He gave Brightsun a mean side-eyed glance, grinning deviously.

“I cannot refuse an order. And, mark me, my mines will be far superior to anything this little toad puts out,” Brightsun said, sniffing haughtily and tossing his ponytail over his shoulder.

“I’m glad you see it my way, Sparkles. Oh, and before the mine-making, I have another little task for you. Very simple. Come with me to the cliff. Grazzwick, as you were,” she said, nodding at the both of them. She swapped the side of her mouth that she was chewing the grass with and sauntered off. Grazzwick stuck his tongue out and waggled his fingers at the paladin in a taunting wave. Brightsun tsked quietly and followed Seedcoat out of the tent.

                “So what are we doing, Captain Seedcoat? Or rather, what will I be doing? I don’t doubt you’ll be playing the role of judge in whatever this is,” he said, walking quickly to keep up with her long, stomping strides.

                “Oh, you know, a little of this”—she wiggled her fingers in a mockery of spell-casting—“and a little of that”—here she threw her arms up in the air, parodying the release of the spell. “Does that sound all right to you?” He said nothing, waiting for her to break and tell him her plan. “Ahhh, Sparkles, c’mon, have a sense of humor! I’m gonna be testing the shaman’s healing abilities and I just need you there to make sure no one dies.”

                He halted in his tracks, wagging a finger at Seedcoat’s back as she kept walking. “Oh, no, Captain! I had duty yesterday when you were thrashing the druids. Not today. Get Ta’aku to do it, he owes me!”

                “Boy, you disobeyin’ me again?”

                “N-no, Captain. Here, I’ll go get him for you. If you have in mind what I think you do, then his talents are far better suited than mine. Levitation is a far better guard against certain death than mere heals. I’ll send him your way forthwith!” Before she could even argue, he was sprinting off, his heels glowing slightly as he used the Light to increase his speed. She laughed heartily once he was out of earshot, rubbing her hands together in anticipation of what was sure to be a hilarious spectacle.

[celeryandhobbes]

Chapter Four(ish)

(the -ish stems from the fact that I skipped a scene that I felt would be boring to write and decided to come back to later, you didn't miss much I swear!)

The spray of the ocean was bath-warm, the waves gentle and lapping as she waded in to her knees. She glanced at the troll next to her, his robe comically pinned up and tied around his lower thighs. His ankles were barely wet. A larger wave came up and doused the shaman to her chest, wetting only the bottom hem of the priest’s robe. She closed her eyes and began to concentrate as the priest had instructed her. The waves shifted at her touch; they resisted, claiming that fire and air were her dominion, that they knew she didn’t belong to them. She hadn’t paid her dues to the Great One. She glanced at the troll again. What did he know about commanding the water? It was a slippery ally at best. She exerted her will again, calling the waters by their spirit-names. Their reluctance was so palpable that even the priest raised an eyebrow at her.

“Captain Seedcoat won’t be pleased. You know she’ll want to test you when we get back. You might want to figure out something soon,” he admonished, hauling his robe up further as the water churned about them with agitation.

Habanera sight and closed her eyes again, asking what she could do. It was as if a hundred watery voices laughed at once, raucous and scathing. They cursed her for her race, claiming that her kind was responsible for the changes made to Azshara and the surrounding waters. They mocked the goblins’ progress and denounced the denizens of Bilgewater Harbor for their steam and oil and machines. She bowed her head and attempted to appear humbled. The goblins had won over the elements through cleverness, not trust. Fire and air had taken to her immediately when she began her training so many years ago, but water and earth ahad always been stubborn and distrustful. She chewed thoughtfully on her lip, grinning as she had an idea. She made an offer that, even now, the good captain was enacting further down the coast. The naga has always presumed on water’s generosity, using it for shelter, food, life, and bending it offensively to wreak havoc on Azeroth. If she could make the naga seem like the greater of evils, perhaps she could get the spirits to behave for long enough to please Seedcoat. The spirits hesitated, rushing higher to completely envelop the goblin, drawing a curse from the troll who backed fitfully up the beach. Habanera poured her all into trustworthiness and sincerity, promising the execution of the local naga community. She took the time to explain her plight and assured the water spirits that they were getting the better end of the deal because she had no intention of constantly calling on them as many of her fellow shaman did. She could almost hear the sigh, the rolling of eyes, as the wave retreated, leaving her gasping and with a warm, fluid feeling in her chest. They had acquiesced! To celebrate, she cast the biggest, wettest healing spell she could right at Ta’aku’s chest.

“Oi! Little green witch!” he cursed while she laughed and waded sloppily out of the water.

“I did it! I just felt like you needed a practical demonstration!” she said, grabbing the troll’s hand and dancing around him in a circle. “Seedcoat will get her little demonstration and I’ll continue to look flawless. Everyone wins!”

“All except me. These robes will have to dry flat,” he intoned, sniffing. He carefully peeled the robes off his soaked torso, cursing animatedly as his tusk got caught on the sodden fabric. Habanera’s eyebrows involuntarily shot up. Seedcoat had certainly made sure all her underlings were properly athletic; while was by no means a hulking monstrosity like the captain, Ta’aku was svelte and chiseled. Grumbling, he draped the robe over his shoulder and caught the goblin’s appraising stare.

“What’s the matter, shaman? Don’t tell me you expected me to keep that sopping thing on. I may be a priest but modesty hardly comes with the territory.”

“To be honest, I was just praising Seedcoat for making even casters participate in the physical portion of her training. Gives me some eye candy in this otherwise backwoods place.”

At this the troll grinned. “Seedcoat does seem to surround herself with exceedingly attractive people.” He flipped an errant dread over his shoulder with a flourish. “I think she thinks it will make her look scarier by comparison. Come, green witch, let’s return to camp. She’ll be expecting us when she gets back.” He turned to saunter back up the beach and Habanera couldn’t help but grin at the fact that he had started to strut after her compliment. She ran to catch up with his long strides, falling in step.

They arrived back at camp after an hour’s hike, Habanera having stripped off her chafing wet mail on the way. She handed her armor off to a bright-eyed young orc who dutifully took it off to the barrels for sanding.

“She doesn’t appear to be back yet,” the troll commented, scanning the camp. His eyes narrowed as he glimpsed the blood elf hunter, Hirana, striding towards them with purpose. “Here comes trouble,” he muttered, nudging Habanera surreptitiously.

“Just where have you two been all afternoon? We’ve had the materials you“—she narrowed her eyes and spat the word at Habanera—“requested lying around for hours, waiting on you to assemble them!” She folded her arms across her chest and popped out her hip, tapping a booted foot. “And why are you naked?!”

“Look, toots, Seedcoat sent me to brush up on my healing and assigned the troll here to supervise. I don’t know if you know this, but we shamans draw on the spirits of water to do our healing. You can’t expect us to sit around with chafing wet clothes on,” the diminutive shaman shot back, copying the blood elf’s stance. “And besides, who are you to demand where I’ve been? Last I checked, I outrank you. I’d hate to think what Seedcoat would dream up as punishment for insubordination.”

The elf puffed up, growling. She opened and closed her mouth, spluttering, and stalked off. Ta’aku shook his head, watching her slim figure retreat. She grabbed Bloodvine, the rogue, by the wrist, shouting and gesturing as they walked. Bloodvine had a pained, disinterested look on her face but walked with the elf regardless. “You handled that well. She is such a pest. I’m still not sure why Sellera hasn’t sent her packing yet. I bet she is waiting for her to break. What say we get some grub while we wait for the good captain?”

“I dunno about you, but I’m gonna go put on some clothes. Mama always told me a lady dresses for dinner,” she replied with a grin.

“Ah, right. I should find a safe place to put this,” he said, gesturing to the heavy robe on his shoulder. “Reconvene in ten?”

“You bet your blue butt!” She sauntered off towards her tent, running into Coldtusk on the way. The orc’s face wore its usual gruff, unfriendly look and she was covered in bruises, her left temple bleeding almost into her eye. Habanera then recalled that Seedcoat had taken Coldtusk. Gorren, and Hawkspear down to the coast to fight an extremely uneven battle with the naga. “May I?” she asked, palms filling with water, the beginning of a healing spell.

The orc grunted, turning her left side to the goblin and leaning down. She hissed as the chilly water poured down her head, drenching and flattening her Mohawk. “Stings,” was all she said. She reached up and touched the spot that had been bleeding, clawed finger coming away with only diluted blood. “Care to get this elbow? I went to parry but the axe went awry,” she said, unbuckling her gauntlet, letting the dented plate fall carelessly to the ground. Habanera nodded, charging up another heal. “You know, maybe I misjudged you, goblin. Will you be at our campfire again tonight?”

Habanera grinned up at the tall, grey orc. “It’s okay, I don’t blame you or the rest of the gang for disliking me. Hell, even I’d dislike me after something like that. And yeah, if I’m welcome, I’d love to roll some bones tonight.”

The orc’s expression was carefully mastered to mask any strong emotion. “Most certainly. Ta’aku seems to think highly of you, and, if they would quit bickering long enough, Denborn and Roshen would probably say that at least they don’t mind you hanging around. They only seem to want to argue with each other.” She snorted. “But rarely do they openly dislike anyone. Even the elves might come around.”

“Well I’ll be there, then. See ya around! I gotta put on some clothes before any more elves take offense to exposed skin!” Coldtusk twitched a corner of her mouth, the closest she ever came to smiling, and seemed to know exactly who she meant. She sketched a bow, surely a remnant of her days under the Lich King, and departed for her own tent.

In clean, dry armor, Habanera made her way over to the mess tents. There were plates laden with fresh fruits, trenchers full of savory, hot gravies, bowls of salad greens, and a whole roasted deer. It was simple fare, to be sure, but the camp chefs had worked their magic with local herbs and spices as well as general technique. She selected a banana, two sand pears, and some of the goblins’ genetically enhanced grapes, fist-sized and impossibly juicy, as well as a few slices of venison. She found Ta’aku at the lieutenants’ table with Seedcoat at its head. She grinned to see Seedcoat dusty and dinged but mostly unharmed. The captain saw her and waved her over enthusiastically with a half-eaten haunch of deer clutched in her fist.

“Sparkfuse! Blue here was just telling me about your successful day at the beach! I hope you won’t mind a demonstration after lunch!”

“Of course. By the way, Initiate Duskblade has informed me that the componenets for my mines have been assembled and are awaiting my expert touch,” she replied, sparing Seedcoat the details of Duskblade’s smart mouth. For now.

Seedcoat’s face lit up with almost malicious glee. “Excellent! How delicate is the assembly process? Will I be able to assign help or should I leave it to the expert?”

“Basic engineering skills are all I’ll be needing. Anyone who knows their way around a spanner and some blasting powder should suffice.”

Seedcoat chewed her haunch thoughtfully. “I’ll have to ask Fogglehat about that. He’s the real taskmaster around here.” She grinned and sat up, empty plate and bare bone in her hands. “Meet me at the base of the cliff in an hour. I’ll devise something good for you. Hope those spirits of yours like you.”

Habanera swallowed hard. “Why does she have to say it like that?” The food had turn to tasteless gruel suddenly, and, despite her earlier hunger, she no longer found joy in the fruits.

“Cheer up, short stack! You’ll do fine! And even if you don’t, either the paladin or I will be there to make sure no one dies,” Ta’aku said cheerfully, tossing his head back and laughing as she buried her face in her hands and groaned.

“You realize that I don’t even have a proper set of healing gear, right? Just a bunch of old odds and ends. I’m going to have blood on my hands tonight, Ta’aku!”

He gave her hair a good-natured ruffle. “Not to worry, green witch. You act as if no one in this camp has ever failed one of Seedcoats insane tasks.”

“I don’t fail! This is going to ruin my self-esteem!”

“Then you’ll just have to do well, then, eh?”

She sighed heavily. “I better go sort through my stuff and make sure I’m as well-equipped as possible. At least she won’t be able to say I was totally unprepared.”

[celeryandhobbes]

Here they are~ First batch of MogIt selections for my bby side characters! I had a lot of fun doing this. I tried to keep their gear pre-Cata or at very least early Cata considering that is the time frame of the story. 

Captioned with who they are and such~

[celeryandhobbes]

I think I'm going to make some WoW characters and subsequent Mogit wishlists for them to reflect some of the other characters in my little story because I AM SO DRY ON WRITING IDEAS RIGHT NOW UGH wish me luck

[celeryandhobbes]

Look! It's Celery's hair ornament!

A Jewel Scarab (Chrysina sp.) being adorable.

Video Source

[celeryandhobbes]

Unusual Training Tactics

“Aight, folks, grub’s on! We will reconvene at dawn for the serious leg of your training! Dismissed!” the captain shouted, abruptly changing the subject. Without another word, she sauntered off towards the tables, unbuckling her armor and dropping it to the dusty ground. A few young orcs sped up and collected it, rushing to several large barrels and dropping each piece in. Habanera could hardly believe her eyes. There was no way that her armor had ever been rolled in sand! Her stomach rumbled audibly and she realized that she had been left alone on the field while the recruits had dashed off for dinner. The troll priest, Ta’aku, passed her, placed a hand on her shoulder briefly in a show of solidarity, and walked with her to the tables.

“How ya likin’ Captain Seedcoat so far?” he asked. His voice was unlike anything she’d ever heard before. It was mellow and sonorous, deep and rich and his accent lilted beautifully and rather  than making his speech more difficult to understand, it simply enhanced the listening experience. She would have put money on him having a lovely singing voice.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. “She’s aight I guess. I still don’t know if I wanna take her on yet. I don’t suppose you could give me any pointers?”

The troll raised his eyebrows, grinning. “Be that all you think about? Fightin’?”

“We are in the middle of a war, you know. It should be the first thing on every able member of the Horde’s mind.”

“I suppose that’s how one makes it out alive. I, for one, think you oughta focus on getting to know your teammates and helpin’ them improve. Beating them senseless every time isn’t gonna help ‘em learn, you know.”

“I guess you get a break, being a healer an’ all. Seedcoat probably lets you do whatever you please. She doesn’t seem like the type to micromanage what she doesn’t understand.” Habanera hopped up on the bench and stretched out to load food onto her plate.

“You’d be surprised what she put the elf and me through. She made him keep Duskblade healed up while Seedcoat chased her through a bunch of swinging fire traps with an axe and then she had me do the same thing with Gorren when she sent him up the cliff to steal some hippogryph’s eggs for provisions.” He seemed to absorb and consume the stare she gave him, her face frozen, mouth hanging open, and a morsel of food halfway to her mouth. Calmly filling his bowl with mixed greens and root vegetables, he basked in the incredulity for a moment before speaking again. “It wasn’t easy, but once we earned her respect, she never made us do anything degrading again. I wonder, though, are you more surprised at the unusual methods she practices or the success of those put through them?”

“I’m shocked she’d do something like that, willingly endangering her recruits for the sake of testing others’ abilities. Although, I suppose she did that very thing with me earlier today. I have more control than a wild hippogryph though,” she added with a sniff, daintily polishing off a chicken leg. “How has she not lost her whole team with haphazard methods like that?”

“Oh, she’s gone through some people. While they may appear weak outwardly, Gorren and Duskblade are more determined than about seventeen other recruits that have walked out on Seedcoat just this season. Believe it or not, she’s actually terrified of losing you. You’re the first shaman whose record has been worth looking at twice and she is thrilled you’re here. Don’t, uh, don’t tell her that, though, or let on that you know. She’d skin me alive if she found that out.”

Habanera grinned at the troll’s sudden sheepishness. She was about to open her mouth to say something else when Seedcoat herself settled heavily on the bench opposite her, crunching at an apple. “All right, all right, cut out the flirting. Sparkfuse, I wanted to bounce some ideas off you for training these next few weeks. Now, I’m a practical tauren. I like for my young’ns to get real world experience, not just throw punches at each other in a dusty circle. I was thinking that you, as both a shaman and an engineer, might have some fresh ideas to keep these goobs on their toes. Could you make a low-powered landmine for training purposes? Nothing to blow limbs off, goodness, no, and don’t give me that look. I know how you goblins train. Maybe just something that’ll shock ‘em a little if they step on it.” The tauren’s face was guileless and genuinely excited. It was an odd look on such an intimidating countenance.

Habanera hesitated. “I… suppose I could whip up something small. How soon would you like it completed? Might take me a minute to gather materials as well.”                 “Don’t you worry your pretty blonde hair over that,” Seedcoat grinned. “I have a feeling that mining and grinding down blasting powder would be just what a few of our recruits need. Gotta teach them that even the most menial tasks have meaning, you know. Wouldn’t want them to think everything is glory and bloodshed.” She winked her good eye. “You just leave me a list of materials and I’ll have them for you come sundown tomorrow. Do you have any skill healing?”

“I can manage. Definitely not my strongest suit, though, Cap,” she said. “I prefer to call on the maelstrom for healing rather than devoting myself wholly to the water spirits, though. Air and fire are my friends.”

“Alas. I still want you to work with Ta’aku and his unit tomorrow. Perhaps he can help you out a bit to hone your skills. I’m not asking you to master healing by any means, but it would be greatly helpful if you could get a few more healing hours under your belt. As for you, priest, I think you should pull aside Denborn, Roshen, and Hawkspear and instruct them in healing arts also. Get Brightsun to help.”

“Denborn is a lost cause, Sellera.” Habanera twitched an ear at the troll’s pronunciation of the captain’s first name, and for the fact that he used her first name at all. It sounded like he said, “celery.” She bit back a grin and let him speak his piece. “You know ever since she got clubbed by those night elves so long ago that she doesn’t remember even how to cast the most basic spells. We’re lucky she can come out of bear form at all.”

“I suppose. I’d really prefer that everyone be able to show full proficiency for all their potential abilities, but she is a special case. I reckon I’ll take her with me and Gorren and Coldtusk tomorrow to fight naga down at the shore,” Seedcoat said, rubbing her scarred chin thoughtfully.

Ta’aku’s eyebrows rose slightly. “There are so many, Captain. Will this be another test of endurance?”

“Aye, it will, my fine blue friend. Gorren’s getting that shield back whether he likes it or not and Coldtusk will be exploring the ways of blood. Better loan me your novice just in case. I can handle things decently well if we get in hot water, but just to be sure I’d like to test out a new healer as well.”

“I’ll give you Shaheen. She knows her stuff but she lacks confidence. This will be just what I need to let her know I’m serious about her abilities,” he replied with a tusky grin. He then leaned down the table and waved at a young tauren priest. She met eyes with him momentarily, saw Seedcoat waving also, and nearly dropped her dagger, meat and all, onto the ground. Still grinning and waving, he muttered out of the side of his mouth. “She’s terrified of you, you know.”

Seedcoat also kept waving, a huge, overfriendly smile on her face. “I know, I know. I used to beat up her big brother at the village academy and he outweighed even me by a good two stone.”

Habanera laughed out loud at that, drawing a look and a chuckle from both the troll and the tauren. Shaheen stared at her plate, looking hurt and scared. “Ahh, damn it. Now she’s gonna hate me too,” she said, still giggling.

“Well, you two, I’ll leave you to your meal. I still have to discuss some things with Chief Fogglehat and you know how he can be,” Seedcoat said with a grimace, finishing her apple, core and all. She stood and clomped off towards a longhouse with three green skulls painted on the side. She prefaced her arrival with a shout, her rough, deep voice sounding over the whole camp. An equally loud response, masculine and pitched higher than her voice, issued from the tent and an irritated-looking goblin stepped out, caked to the elbows in black grease. He wore an odd headpiece which seemed to be constantly billowing out some sort of greyish mist. The two gestured at each other wildly and talked over each other in their enthusiasm. Habanera grinned. She was going to enjoy it here.

“So, Sparkfuse. Do you drink?” Ta’aku asked, producing a flask from a pocket in his skirts. “The fellows and I are going to roll some bones and have a few sips this evening before we bed down and we’d be delighted to enjoy some new company. You’ll find the brew is rather unique and exquisite.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to liven up what promises to be a sausage fest,” she replied with a devious glance, taking the proffered flask and sniffing heartily. It smelled spicy and a bit woodsy, with nutty undertones.

“Ahh, not a chance!” His tone carried mock offense. “Denborn will be there, and Coldtusk! Bloodvine always turns purple and stammers when I ask her to come around, though. Unfortunate, that. And besides, you look like a gambling lady. I would be a boor indeed not to offer,” he said, this time drawing a pair of worn ivory dice from inside his bracer. They were ten-sided and intricately carved and her gambling spirit was definitely roused.

“All right, all right, you’ve twisted my arm quite enough,” she said, deftly picking up the dice from his palm with her knuckles. She tossed them in the air, setting them spinning with a gentle breeze. Snatching them from the air adroitly, she caught his eyes and grinned deviously. “But I’ll tell you right now, I cheat.”

[celeryandhobbes]

A Grand Melee

                “What are the rest of you doing? Have you learned nothing? Deathwing will not fight honorably, nor should any of you! Focus! Work together! Are you really going to let this sickly green shrimp kick you all into submission?” Seedcoat cupped her hands around her mouth, her low voice as rough as gravel crunching beneath a boot. “I know you’re not familiar with fighting shaman, but realize that many have gone over to the side of the former Earth Warder, or have you forgotten your history as well as my lessons?”

                The two druids began to sweat, and shifted forms; the tauren into a bear and the troll into a cat. The bear charged while the cat leaped behind her and the two collided with force at odds with their uncertain demeanors. These two would take work! Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she rapidly decided which she would take down first and the thrill of real battle set in. The cat was faster than she’d thought he’d be and she had to retreat towards the bear to avoid a flurry of blows. The bear would take time to whittle down so she cloaked herself in crackling, shamanistic energy and readied fists of lava and lightning to meet the cat’s assault. Before she dealt the final blow, he managed to get a deep, bleeding wound on her side. She cursed, throwing down a healing totem and gesturing to cast a large, watery heal on her wounds. Soaking wet and bursting with lightning energy, she afflicted the bear with a flame shock and went in for the close-contact melee. Dodging the powerful swipes of the massive claws and dancing around the mangling bites, she threw almost everything she had at the bear. Lightning, lava, and wind were all at her call but the druid had the advantage of high armor and excellent stamina on her side. This one seemed to be bred from the same stock as the captain: slow and heavy, but immensely strong. Issuing a challenging roar, the druid, wreathed in the flames of Habanera’s own shock, barreled down on her and knocked her silly with a mighty blow. As her eyes regained focus, she was able to engage her rocket boots in time to avoid a thick, furry paw that would’ve torn her open from shoulder to shoulder. The druid was flagging, however, and Habanera could see that it wouldn’t take much more for her to fell the she-bear. Summoning lightning once again, she pooled it on her right fist and let it fly as a bolt from her left. The bear grumbled at the bolt to the face and pawed herself as if trying to brush it away and Habanera closed in with the lightning fist to send the druid to her furred knees. This one bowed with grace, raising a paw in salute as she collapsed to the ground, puffing heavily.

                The paladin, the death knight, and the hunter exchanged worried glances. The goblin shaman was sweating with effort but barely panting. They watched stupidly as she tossed down a couple totems, one fire and one water. “You idiots!” Seedcoat’s voice rasped out again. “Don’t give her a chance to heal up! Someone demolish that totem! Hirana, I’m looking at you! Nock an arrow on that pretty bow and shoot the damn thing! Or is your aim not good enough? Coldtusk, how about you whip up a ghoul and sic it on her? Don’t tell me you’re afraid, death knight! I know you’ve been through worse than this when you were serving the Lich King!”

                The blood elf had the grace to blush as she pulled back her bowstring and shot the totem, which exploded colorfully as goblin creations are wont to do. A ghoul clawed its way out of the ground next to the orc and lumbered quickly if clumsily towards Habanera. Hopefully the elf’s fear would cloud her long enough for Habanera to get in close and finish her. The hunter’s pet, a mangy, slobbering worg, cantered toward Habanera even as the ghoul was closing in. An idea struck her and she had to laugh aloud at the results. She sprinted toward the ghoul, watching the worg alter its course to pursue her, and then she sprang skyward with her rocket boots, leaving the two minions to collide into each other in a tangle of bones, teeth, and fur. Absently she noticed Seedcoat smirking even as she slapped her face in exasperation. The captain wasn’t wholly displeased, at least. As she was distracted by the tauren captain’s antics, an arrow whizzed by her ear and a plague of stinging insects burst forth around Habanera’s head. The blood elf was nocking another arrow and the death knight and paladin were both rapidly making up the ground between them. A hammer dropped from the sky and bounced painfully off her shoulder. Windmilling away the insects, Habanera determined that eliminating the pesky arrows of the hunter would be her first priority. Anyone who could stand safely in the back and still be efficiently deadly always roused her ire. She rushed forward and knocked the bow aside, singeing its varnish and snapping the string with lava. Its owner threw her hands skyward and cringed, now helpless. Turning back to the male blood elf and the female orc, Habanera was met with both a blow that smelled of fetor and a shining hammer. Knocked off her feet, she scrambled to call the healing rains again as she attempted to stand again. Blood dripped from her hairline and her left pauldron had been dented into an ugly hunk. The two were readying themselves to strike again as she doused herself with another heal. Water dripped off her nose and flattened her hair, and she used the conductivity of it and the rain to strike both of them heavily with a chaining lightning bolt as well as charging herself with the element. The two plate-wearers exchanged glances and shivered as the lightning arced off of their metal armaments. A fierce wind blew and the goblin was suddenly between them, striking wildly with alternating lava and lightning fists, felling the two within seconds of each other.

Habanera was truly panting with exertion now, sweat mingling with the waters that still dripped from her hair and clothing. She looked to Seedcoat who merely nodded, then turning to where the cook and priest and the other paladin were removing meat from the spits for carving. “Ta’aku! Brightsun! The cook can handle the rest! Come sweep up your teammates before they bleed all over each other. Excellent teamwork, Coldtusk, Hawkspear! We need to work on your defenses, though. And my dynamic druid duo! Denborn, Roshen, I am impressed with the both of you, but you could take lessons from one another. Shifting from one form to another could save your life if you do it right! Hirana Duskblade, you are a disappointment. Train that worg better and he could have intercepted the blow that snapped your string. While you’re at it, make sure you know what to do in case that happens again. I’d advise against choosing a weapon merely for looks as well. Bloodvine, excellent work making use of a distraction. We’ll work on your strength. Same for you, Grazzwick, and good speed. Gorren! What happened! You’ve disgraced me as a warrior! Perhaps we should put you back on the sword and shield until you can learn how to parry or at least overpower your enemy quickly, eh? And you, Sparkfuse, you perform admirably. However, don’t you think it’s a bit rude to thoroughly embarrass your teammates before you even know their names?”

“Well, Captain, as you didn’t give me much of a chance to shake hands, no, I don’t think I was rude. Don’t you think it’s rude to make someone you’ve barely met go eight on one with little warning?” Sparkfuse folded her arms and popped her hip out, eyeing the big tauren up and down.

Seedcoat barked a laugh and shook her head. “At least you’re honest. I am sincerely impressed, though. Your technique is impeccable and you are strategically creative. I hope you will be able to help me whip these wet-eared pups into shape before we drop onto hostile shores.”

Habanera’s expression softened somewhat and she called up a healing rain over the recuperating combatants. “I’d be pleased to, Captain. Gotta say, I don’t necessarily want these clowns watching my back when we’re face to face with a wall of real enemies.” She grinned at the convalescents to take the sting off her words, but their truth resonated for all present. Sheepish nods and fervent affirmations of sure improvement piped up from the recruits who had grace enough to be embarrassed that the eight of them couldn’t bring down the diminutive new shaman.

[celeryandhobbes]

Meetings and Introductions

                “Sparkfuse reporting. Toots, can you direct me to Seedcoat’s regiment?” she asked, casually resting her elbow on a dented metal bollard.

                “Ahaha, sister, I do not envy you. The Captain of Rust keeps camp just over the ridge there. Look for the giant dust clouds, you can’t miss it,” the uniformed goblin replied, indicating the direction with a lazy flick of her hand.

                Sparkfuse nodded her thanks, shouldered her pack, and meandered off on her way. Muted clanging of weapons against armor sounded in the distance, growing clearer with every step. A voice cried out in pain, followed by loud, deep-voiced feminine laughter. The female voice growled something and the unmistakable, shimmery sounds of a paladin’s healing sounded. As she mounted the hill, the female voice became clear enough that she could discern the words, “All right, kodo chips, take five. My shaman is supposed to be arriving at some point today and you maggots had better look like you’re worth half a copper before he gets here. Dismissed!” Suddenly self-conscious for the somewhat honorable reference, Sparkfuse straightened her shoulders, refreshed the dully-glowing enhancements on her sheathed weapons, and finger-combed her currently white-blonde hair into an effortless back-sweeping wave. For effect, she cast a fresh lightning shield which jolted and arced animatedly against her armor and bright green skin.

                “Captain Seedcoat, Habanera Sparkfuse, Shaman of the Winds, reporting for duty!” she announced, cresting the hill. Immediately she locked eyes with the biggest female tauren she had ever seen. She stood at least eight feet tall, likely more, and was heavily muscled through the arms, shoulders, and chest. Her mane was close-cropped on the left side of her head while on the right side, it grew long and wild and wavy. Habanera couldn’t be sure, but it appeared as though there were several jewels or ornaments in her hair, incongruous with the rest of her dingy appearance. Her dull, unadorned plate was worn and dented and, as the station guide had said, covered in patches of rust. Her right eye was scarred over with milky-white cataracts and the offending scar extended fully down her jaw onto her impossibly thick neck. Her left eye was a deep purplish-brown and boasted impressively long and thick eyelashes. Piercings and smaller scars littered her face unartfully and dust clogged her black fur. Habanera had to suppress a grin when she remembered the orders to look alive when this captain looked like something the worg dragged in.

                “Sparkfuse? I expected you to be… taller. No matter. I have heard that you are quite the impressive shaman. We mobilize in three weeks to the Twilight Highlands to fight Deathwing’s minions among the Twilight Cult. Can I assume that you have some skill with elementals, considering your calling?” Seedcoat strode forward and saluted across her chest—a gesture which Habanera hurriedly repeated—and extended a meaty hand for her to shake. Upon closer inspection, Habanera realized that what she had taken for jewels in the tauren’s hair were actually several gemstone scarabs—native to Durotar—which had recently migrated to plaguing Azshara. A closer look still, as the tauren leaned down to close the gap in their heights, revealed that the scarabs were alive. Biting back the urge to dust them off her new superior, Habanera seized the huge, three fingered hand and shook vigorously, squeezing slightly harder than she normally would. It was a trick her father had taught her, after helping her build her strength. Seedcoat reacted properly by delivering an equally overpowered squeeze and the two locked eyes in quasi challenge. The tauren’s raw strength was incredible and in the back of her head, Habanera was unsure if she wanted to spar with this brute for the coming weeks before their deployment. On a whim, she charged her palm with lightning, if only to see what would happen. The tauren’s eyes narrowed and her fur bristled up, bits of static arcing through it. Habanera released her hand and all but cringed, fearing the repercussions of this act. Seedcoat suddenly burst out laughing, clapping her on the back so hard that she nearly fell over. “Scout, you are a bold one and for that I give you credit! But you didn’t answer my question.” She folded her arms over her plated chest and cocked an eyebrow, a bit of static still curling around the unruly end of her long hair. Absently, Habanera noticed that the shock had killed all the scarabs and they had mostly fallen to the ground.

                “Well, Captain, I’ll say this: It doesn’t matter if it has a pulse or if it’s a hunk of rock; I will find a way to dismantle it.”

                “We will see, young Sparkfuse. We will see. Brightsun, Ta’aku! Show the shaman to her barracks and help set up her effects.” Seedcoat paused and checked the position of the sun. “Mess in an hour. The rest of you, on your feet! When Sparkfuse returns, why don’t you introduce yourselves to her in a grand melee? You are up to that, aren’t you, shaman?” A devious smile curled the unscarred portion of the tauren’s face as a blood elf and a troll sidled up to Habanera and relieved her of her knapsack and bedroll.

                Habanera met the challenging gaze with a grin and leisurely cracked her knuckles. “You just make sure you have that pretty healer of yours ready to mop them up off the floor when I’m done with ‘em.”