#snapshots-inthe-shadows

[snapshots-inthe-shadows]

DWC Day 1: Instinct - Neglect

"I am a man of many skills and abilities, though one stands above the rest. There are many weapons at my disposal, but only one I use daily.

In this world one is either a victor enjoying his spoils, or a fool dead in the gutter. I am no fool.

Instinct is what keeps you alive in this world. Knowing who and what is around you at all times. Noticing subtle changes can mean life or death, no second guessing, no room for doubt.

This is the tool you will hone. Without it, you will not survive."

-Mitharios Phoenixheart, Talon of C.o.R. to his new Sparrows.

@daily-writing-challenge

[ethereal-and-vaguely-threatening]

DWC Day 1 Silver/Darkness

"Boss, we're ready for you." Mitharios sent word through the comm to Valathriell's private channel. "Of course they came with more bodies and armed, as expected."

"Shocking," Valanthriell responded, at this point, she had experience with this double-crossing way of life. "Make them wait, I am taking final steps to secure the package. Is payment visable?"

"Aye, five crates as agreed. Contents are questionable, no doubt they'll want to wait until you arrive to show them off. Should I move ahead to check payment?" Mitharios knew better than to move on something like this without her approval, the Boss was meticulous.

"No, I will be there in a moment. Move as planned." Short and to the point, rarely sweet.

"Heard." Mitharios relayed the information to the Sparrows, the Boss was incoming.

Within a minute the silence of the night was ripped open as a portal opened and Valanthriell Shadowfel stepped out in her splendor, street gear, and ready for a fight. "Mr. Evans." She greeted him, if not coldly.

"Ah the Lady deigns to appear on her own, I feel like I should bow or somethin'." The leader spoke with condescension on his lips.

"Save the chatter, you and I must have better things to be doing with our time. Is this my payment?" She gestured to the crates, ready to get this business dealt with.

"Of course, as we agreed, fifteen-thousand gold and the required goods." The man gestured for one of his men to open the crates, showing the contents before closing them up and moving them to the space on Valanthriell's right. "Now you've got the orb I assume, or do you plan on takin' all this for yourself against all of us?" Evans let out a smug chuckle, feeling confident he and his men could take a puffed-up noble.

"Ye of little faith," Valanthriell replied through a smirk producing the wrapped-up orb. "A wise man would make sure his ducks are in a row before using it, wouldn't want to catch yourself with your pants down."

"Aye, like the swanky woman who meets with shady sods like ourselves all on her lonesome?" With his words Evans' men took up arms against Valanthriell, ready to take the orb as well as their payment.

"Foolish, are we?" Valanthriell snickered as Mitharios appeared from the shadows, his blade on the throat of the most dangerous of Evans' lackeys as two shots were fired, the first disarming Evans and the second wounding the hidden marksman.

Evans let out a shaken chuckle. "Aye, seems we were. Stand down, not need in makin' this worse than it already is." The men followed the command, dropping their weapons in a huff. "How's about we finish this trade-off and call it good, yeah?"

Valanthriell paused, eyeing the man over with venom in her eyes, clicking her tongue in response. "Tisk tisk tisk, in all your years in this world Evans, you should really have a better grasp on your mark." At that moment five others came through the portal to gather the crates and take them to their intended locations. "Consider this a much-needed lesson on the size of your britches, yes?" Valanthriell returned the orb to her bag and turned her back on the group, leaving through the portal second before it closed and Mitharios returned to the shadows and the Sparrows exited their separate ways, leaving Evans and his men flummoxed.

"How many did they even have?" Evans questioned himself with a sigh. "Damn...we'll pay for that one."

{Continued from here}

Mentioned: @snapshots-inthe-shadowsdows

@daily-writing-challenge

[chaotic-vex]

ATTN!!

You may have noticed a little change, that or you had a "Who the fuck is this?!" moment.

I made the decision to move Valanthriell's blog to a new spot and make this my OOC blog. I'm slowly shifting the content over but finally things are set up.

SO!

Please go follow if you haven't, or follow again in some cases:

Valanthriell Shadowfel @ethereal-and-vaguely-threatening

Antasia "Lux" Radiantfeather

@the-radiant-lux

Locien Solarmight

@grandpa-swagger

Mitharios Phoenixheart

@snapshots-inthe-shadows

Emveah "Emi" Thorne

@way-ofthe-dumpling

Sariah Jane Roberts

@doc-roberts

And introducing my newest Muse (because I cannot help the inner altoholics once the character starts to take shape. Once I can see their face is then a little cartoon person jumping up and down in my periphery. It's maddening.

Anasuya Crimsontide

@heterochromatic-herbalist

[snapshots-inthe-shadows]

DWC Day 3 Sentimental/Feral

CW: Violence, Blood, Torture.

{Music}

You might call it brutality, I call it justice.

Mitharios was a man about the work, his new station in the Lady Shadowfel's organization came with opportunities aplenty, and he was hungry for it all. It was a rare thing, in his experience, for such a high and lofty person like the Boss to get their hands dirty, typically leaving the gruesome details to the underlings to deal with, but this was a whole new world.

The call came in the late night hours, the Sparrows had collected a target for questioning, and they were to gather to soften his meat before the Boss arrived. "Delightful." Mitharios responded, gathering his things and heading to the storehouse to join in the fun.

A seemingly inconsequential building on the shady side of Stormwind, appearing like all the rest, but containing its own precious cargo; Mitharios rapped on the heavy wooden door, awaiting the slot to open and admittance to be granted.

Dusty crates lined the path, creating a barrier between the entrance and the dimly lit room, and an elven man was restrained in the single chair below the low-hanging light.

"Thorn," The lead Sparrow spoke in greeting, the young world-weary woman stood before him with a deadpan look upon her face, cheeks gaunt and hair of ashen violet. "The target is still unconscious, figured you'd rather be the first face he sees."

"Well done, Amytheisa. You and the others are dismissed if that is your wish." Mitharios replied, removing his black leather gloves and moving toward the imprisoned man.

A single heavy-handed slap across the man's face was all it took to wake him from his state, gasping in shock as he looked around to find the peril he had fallen into, pulling at his binds to find escape was impossible. "Morning Sunshine," Mitharios spoke in a mocking tone, leaning down to meet the man's eye with a wide and cheeky smirk. "Comfortable? No? Good."

"W-why am I here?! Who are you?!" The man shouted, his tone filled with terror.

"Now now, you should know better than to demand things of your host. Bit rude, I think?" Mitharios asked the surrounding Sparrows who chose to stay back and witness.

"Aye, rude it is." A muscular man chimed in from the corner, a cigar smoldering in the corner of his mouth.

"Wouldn't want to be rude, it's not the Elven way." Mitharios snickered with a snort of derision. "Now then, I know you are all too curious as to why you've been taken from your safe little home and brought to such a strange and light-forsaken place. To put it simply, the woman you work for is far worse than any of us, an impressive thing but it puts you in quite the pickle."

"The Baroness is a good woma-" The man tried to stand up for his Mistress but was cut off by the slamming of Mitharios's fist into his jaw.

"So loyal, I wonder if that'll stand as our night progresses, I myself quite doubt it." Mitharios was barely even warming up, the man would either give in or face a night of brutal terror. "Nothing about your bitch of a Noblewoman is good, or we wouldn't be here. Now, we have been following her every move for weeks and suddenly she and her lot are nowhere to be found. How could that be I wonder?"

"Must be some kind of trickery." A lanky Nightelf man spoke, coming to stand next to the hulking mass of a man who chewed his cigar.

"Witchcraft." Amytheisa spoke, her tone flat as if she was bored of the situation.

"Aye, Witchcraft." Mitharios chuckled. "But you and I both know that isn't the case, don't we Mister?"

"I have no idea what you mean." The man remained steadfast, unafraid of the actions of these roughens.

"Oh, of course, a personal guard oblivious to the comings and goings of the bitch he protects. That sounds logical." Mitharios's fist slammed into the nose of the man, drawing forth blood. "Listen, I'd rather not spend my entire night here, so either you tell us what we want to know or I escalate far faster than the norm. Your choice."

"I'll tell you nothing scum!" The man shouted, blood pouring from his nose into his mouth.

"I thought as much." With this defiant response, Mitharios slipped a brass knuckle onto his right hand, slamming the spiked rings into the gut of the bound man, bringing forth a deep guttural cry of pain. Just as the man began to catch his breath another hard punch slammed into his abdomen, taking the air out of him as blood seeped through his clothing. "Consider this, the amount of pain you will experience from me is a fraction of what you'll receive from the Boss once she gets here. Answer the questions now and save yourself from inventive and excruciating agony, it's really your best choice. She's a feral Bitch."

Hours passed, leaving the man battered and bloody. Mitharios stood tall, his right hand dripping with the weakened man's blood as a knock came from the opposite side of the door. "Ah, that'll be the Boss. Poor sod, you'll miss me when I'm gone." Mitharios laughed callously as Valanthriell entered the storehouse.

{Mentioned: @ethereal-and-vaguely-threatening}

@daily-writing-challenge

[snapshots-inthe-shadows]

DWC Day 1: Lust

TW: NSFW (A bit, mentions of bondage)

"What drives you?" The Boss Lady asked Me, her mind curious about how quickly and expertly I complete each contract she sends my way. When the fact is that I live for the work.

"Lust," I replied, the simplest way I could describe the reasons why I do what I do. "Lust for the coin, lusts of the flesh, and a lust for blood. I want what I want and no person can shame me for it."

She looked at me like I had her questioning our partnership as if my work didn't speak for itself but finally she broke her silence with honeyed words. "I cannot hold such wants against you as mine are not much different, I appreciate transparency, it wastes less time."

"Mmm." Speaking of wasting time. "If you've nailed down the next task I'd like to get going. I've got a rather beautiful young woman waiting for me to tie her up."

"Dismissed." She waved me out, good. I've got more important business tonight.

@daily-writing-challenge

[snapshots-inthe-shadows]

DWC Day 3: Greed

TW: Blood - Violence- Globe luxation

Dawn had yet to break leaving the sleeping city streets lit up with a blue dreamlike hue, the rains of the previous night left puddles in the cobblestone walkways, Mitharios' had no care to avoid them, his tall leather boots preventing any water from getting in. Shop owners had only just begun their sleepy start to the day, opening their doors for any early birds that might have a need, and offering a wave to the focused elf. Mitharious wasn't the most social, rarely speaking a word more than needed and so he responded with a simple tip of the hat, continuing onward to a specific destination.

The past few weeks had been overwhelmed with contracts, most within the Shadowlands, more specifically Torgast, searching room after room and floor after floor to no avail and finally handing the task over to some of the best in his crew, returning to the living realm to catch up on the other side of the business. Black Market deals, appraising items to fence, and loans, every venture set up to make the most capital with little effort.

Criminal work comes with its problems, the possibility of getting caught and tossed in jail, death, or worse losing everything and still drawing breath...rats and thieves.

Arriving at the little shop for repairing leather and mail armor, a front for laundering profits and doing other business, appearing nice and respectable all the while. Walking through the door and the bell above rings, alerting the Leathersmith to the arrival of a customer. "Aye! Welcome welco-Boss! Ay, it's good to see ya back outta the Shadowlands, didn't expect ya for a few more weeks." The man chuckled nervously.

"Henry." Mitharious removed his fedora and locked the door behind him, approaching the counter with heavy footsteps on the wood floor, saying nothing until he came to lean on the counter, smiling in a way that only unnerved the Leathersmith further. "Yes, I am." Mitharios' dark eyes peered at Henry, nearly looking through the man with an intense gaze that grew more intimidating as his smile began to fade.

"What's the problem Boss?" Henry quarried, the Boss might not talk much but silence never felt safe.

"You tell me, Henry. What possible reason could I have to step away from the highest-paying contract we've gotten?"

"I-I don't rightly know, Boss." Henry played dumb, not a difficult task for someone who tried to lie to Mitharios' face. "Somebody rat?"

The response took Mitharious aback, his head canting to the left. "Interesting, and who is this rat, do you think?"

Henry gulped hard, fighting to find his voice. "N-not m-me Boss." He let out a poorly faked laugh.

"No, not you. You wouldn't talk would you Henry?" Mitharious stepped a little closer, standing tall like a dark and looming omen.

"No Boss! I don't want to go losing my tongue or nothin' like that!"

"Why so tense Henry? The way you act makes me think you expect trouble." Mitharious kept an even, yet intimidating tone.

"N-no reason Boss. Didn't sleep great is all." Henry did his best to focus on the item he was repairing, hoping doing the work would help calm him.

"Restless are we?"

"Aye, should really replace that bed."

"You should, can't have a man rolling in as much coin as you sleeping on anything less than down."

"Wha-"

Moving in the blink of an eye Mitharious went from across the counter to standing just behind Henry, grabbing the man by the back of the head and slamming it into the hard wooden counter. "You've been skimming Henry." Mitharious tisked, picking Henry up and spying the broken nose and gushing blood.

"N-no Boss! I wouldn't!" Henry protested, swearing to his innocence.

"No! I wouldn't!" Mitharious repeated mockingly before slamming a fist into Henry's face. "Let's be honest Henry, it'll be less painful." Another heavy-handed punch into his face.

"It wasn't me!" Another punch, this time knocking him to the ground in a whimpering pile.

"Henry." A swift kick to the Leathersmith's ribs, and then another, and another. "Henry?" Mitharious queried.

Henry coughed at first, gasping for breath before finally speaking under his breath. "It was me..."

"What was that?" Mitharious asked, wanting Henry to announce his truth.

"It was me!" Henry coughed.

"That's a shame, a Leathersmith really needs both hands." Mitharious threatened, still standing tall above the crumpled man.

"I do, Boss. I am sorry. I will give it all back."

"Yes, you will give every copper back but you and I both know that isn't enough. What kind of standard would that set?" Mitharious then straddled Henry, crouching over him with a wild smile. "Both hands are needed, but both eyes? I think one would do."

From outside the shop, blood-curdling screams could be heard, muffled just slightly by the door until it opens, and Mitharious steps out, in his right hand the single eye. "Get a patch for that Henry, can't have you scaring the children."

@daily-writing-challenge

[ethereal-and-vaguely-threatening]

Mitharios: "Hey Boss, that orb thing... what was it?"

Valanthriell: "They requested a small mana bomb."

M: "And what they almost got?"

V: "A pocket portal to a rock floating in Telogrus Rift."

M: "Fucking devious, you are."

V: -smiles delightfully-

@snapshots-inthe-shadows