what-a-wicked-thing

[what-a-wicked-thing]

Does anyone have a good source for eliksni screenshots in Destiny 2? I need a Bunch of references. At the moment I’m more interested in the Spider for obvs reasons.

[what-a-wicked-thing]

Arc I Rising Tides (6/ ?) Silken Threads of a Spider’s Web

Reading the Wind/ Casing the Quarters (Part 5)                        < previous|next>  

Avalei secured the pike chassis as she waited for the start-up command she had programmed to awaken her companion. That companion being a former RedJack frame. Simond 99-40. Retired from Iron Lord Saladin’s services, and misplaced in storage for decades. Avalei had considered it a new pet project and had begged and wheedled to have him released to her. She had friends in high places after all. Simond had not appreciated her efforts. “Light persists,” had been his first observation after his long hibernation. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t have much choice in the matter. He had no legs. So he had to suffer her sophomoric mechanical attentions, while he reacquainted himself with the times. His insights never failed to amuse her.

 Simond’s shutdown mode was in upright position with a bowed head. His eye flashed on and focused His head hung down heavy on his chest , but quickly elevated and locked into place. His white and red paint scheme with the Crucible blazon on his chest, was faded, and they hadn’t been able to come to a consensus on what his new paint job should be; if there was to be any at all. His movements were stilted and she observed them, so she could reconfigure his joints if needed. His replacement legs had limited mobility, and he managed a stilted walk, but running was a no-go. She had suggested wheels, but he declined. A hard NO. As he slowly straightened, he gave her a cursory once over. She spun around to show him she was still alive and well.

 “Wonderful. You are in one piece. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to write up your death certificate.”

 “Your faith in me has been rewarded.” She riposted. Truthfully, she had been a little lonely during the journey, and a friendly face, even one without a mouth, was a comfort. He had been approved as her tech assistant, and once she had a steady power supply, she would be able to keep him activated at all times. And if he got too mouthy she could always just switch him off. Easy! She knew several Guardians that needed a shutoff switch.Or at the least, a mute button. Robots were superior in every way. And they let you know it.

 At the moment Avalei was more excited to relay the adventures of the day.

 “You’ll be proud to know I stuck to our script.” She followed after him as he seated himself at the main console. He didn’t bother to touch any buttons, but simply communicated wirelessly with the ship. Avalei had been warned to be respectable to the de facto leader of the Tangled Shore: Spider. The eliksni warlord had carved himself a comfortable niche in the lawless area of the Reef. Mara Sov’s disappearance, had emboldened him, but the resurrected Scorned Barons, had handicapped him.

“I’m sure you found some way to offend them.”

“You’re not wrong. My eliksni is not the best.”

“I think you mean ‘inadequate.This is the Tangled Shore, even the smallest mistake could be fatal.”

He finally connected to the onboard computer, and Avalei tried to make herself seem as busy as possible. There wasn’t much to do however. She rifled through the MRE’s. “Pineapple beef? Gross.” She considered escape, he couldn’t move very fast yet. Simond’s creaky joints rattled together as he visibly stiffened as he digested the readouts from the journey to the Tangled Shore.

“Avalei.” he spoke evenly. “I told you to wake me when we were in danger.”

“It wasn’t completely unforeseen. ‘Beware, here there be pirates.’” She brushed his concerns off.

“My first and foremost directive is to keep you safe. Your cooperation in this nigh impossible endeavour would be most appreciated.”

“Okay.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“I made positive contact with the locals?” Avalei helpfully warbled.

Simond 99-40 shook his head in disbelief. “Somehow, I doubt it. Well, let’s at least write up the days report.”

“Can it wait? I’m a little tired.” Avalei hadn’t been this exhausted in a while. She didn’t sign up for a vacation, but field work was more taxing than anticipated.

“Agent is exhausted, cannot fulfill duty. Send?”

“Ugh, fine.” She gave a detailed account of the days events, but peppered in some unimportant details like “those cold cobalt blue eyes” and a couple of anecdotes about eliksni.

“This reads more like a traveler’s log than a Hidden report.”

“I’m just spicing it up a little. Also, I’m a hidden Hidden so it works out I think!”

Simond 99-40 suffered in silence. “Encrypting… Message sent. No inbound messages from command. Travel Alert for the Tangled Shore: Cabal, Hive, and Fallen aggressors are widespread and considered armed and dangerous. Hitchhikers could be escaping convicts.”

Avalei laughed as she pulled a bed roll from her private footlocker. “The “fallen” are better endowed in that case. They have four arms! Get it? ‘Armed and dangerous?’”

“I’m sorry Agent Avalei, I am afraid I never quite developed a sense of humor.”

“Yeesh. Oh, well. We have plenty of time.” She flopped down onto the self-inflating sleep roll, “Oh, my ribs,” before it had absorbed enough oxygen to fill its starving air cells. “Goodnight, Simond.”

“Goodnight, Agent.” Simond 99-40 dimmed the interior lights, and went into a quiet standby mode. He was alert, but he wouldn’t be much help in a firefight, he hadn’t touched a firearm since he had been wrested from that dusty storage room. Ah, to surrender back to the nothingness of a hard shutdown. But, for better or worse Avalei had found him, and who doesn’t like to be needed?

[what-a-wicked-thing]

Arc I Rising Tides (Part 5)

                 Silken Threads of a Spider’s Web

Waiting Game                                                                 < previous|next>

(Warnings: mentions of death/gore)

Lanser stood in the busy loading bay, and stared at the empty space a certain Hunter had vacated. Cayde-6 was dead. She had looked up to him as a mentor, a breath of levity in hard times and the leader of her own Hunter class. In her heart she burned with anger, and the thirst for vengeance was strong. But, her head was steered by a harsher teacher: cold pragmatism.

 The City had fallen once already. Their light had been snatched away, and deaths cold grip had revisited them with a vengeance. Mortality became a reality again. They had failed to keep the people safe. She must remain vigilant. This was bigger than just one person. Cayde-6 had left very large boots to fill. No one seemed to be stepping up as of yet. Add to that the absence of the Speaker, and the leadership climate seemed to be fraught with difficulties. The Traveler had never been very forthcoming with its intentions and so a focused direction could not be chosen.

 Lanser had seen off Avalei on her merry adventure for the Vanguard. Avalei had been insistent, and ready to move out of her comfort zone again. Avalei was one of the few friends she had kept after the Red War. Some dead, some forever changed, and some simply vanished. She wanted to be supportive, even for such dangerous work as being a Hidden for Ikora Rey. What kind of work, and where she would be were all very hush hush. But, she had her suspicions.

 Lanser shrugged off her troubling thoughts and went to the frame that was handling her cargo from the Farm. There was now open trade of goods and information from the EDZ. It was beneficial to them both. She skimmed through the manifest,”Allium cepa, Solanum tuberosum, Triticum aestivum, Zea mays… I don’t see sweet potatoes here.” They were exchanging seeds and tuber varieties to build a large seed representative repository and to create new hybrids for hardier crops. The EDZ even had new seeds and live plants of the decorative variety. She’d been wanting a desert rose, since she came across a picture of one in a book. So far, she had not found a cultivator, at least one that was willing to share.

 During the Red War Lanser had been the plant expert(she had even named her ghost Iris.) She had already had the passion for it, but while they were out in the wilds, she had known what was edible and what was poisonous. She kept her small group alive, and they were one of the more well-fed group of people when they finally linked up with other survivors. After that she busied herself in foraging and teaching others how to identify different plants. She oversaw the planting of the gardens, and planted flowers on the graves of the fallen. It had kept her almost busy enough to forget she had no more do-overs. One death and it was all over. A strange thing to find complaint with. Could I get an extra life, please? She had even come to terms with it, and had felt at peace as she dug in the dirt. She had even chose her burial place, and had made requests of her helpers to plant roses on her grave. It never came to pass, but she still visited that empty grave from time to time. If only to remind herself.

 Iris absolutely refused to entertain Lanser’s melancholy moods.

“I’m not sad about it. Just--resigned.”

“What about all the flowers you promised to grow with me?”

“I’m being realistic.”

“Well as long as we’re being realistic, do you want to be composted? Shall I grind your bones as well?”

“Iris, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m COMPLETELY serious.” Lanser tilted her head in thought. “Damn it, you’re actually considering it.”

“I mean-- it’s a good question now that I think about it.”

“This conversation is over. Over!”

 Iris zoomed by as he personally inspected the seed packets.” Oh! A new orchid variety! I could cross this with my next batch!” Iris was invested in creating his own crossbreed of orchid. He was on the seventh generation already, but he had yet to “perfect” them. The colors all wrong. Next time, it’s got to be perfect! Lanser had thought they were very pretty. Pretty is not perfect!

 A nervous landscaper under her purview made a shuffling approach toward Avalei. She was still a little miffed about the sweet potatoes so her desire to be bothered was at a low point. Even if she put on a friendly front her sharp-toothed smile often had the opposite effect on people. I’m not angry this is just my face. “You needed something?” Ouch. That came out a bit harsher than intended.

“Y-yes. Uh, ma’am. We need your approval on several of our new displays.” Several other subordinates lined up behind the brave landscaper who had first approached her.

“We’ve had some complaints about standing water--”

“Let me see. I asked the people in charge of this area to aerate the soil more frequently. It’s a high traffic area.” A few of her subordinates winced as her ire rose. How hard is it to poke some holes in the ground? As she wrangled with the days problems she saw a familiar face when she went to the greenhouse to oversee inventory.

 Avalei’s lady friend. Her’s was a face she would see frequently. She did some menial labor around the City, but she heard her specialty was childcare. She had expected Avalei to make a mention of her lady friend, and her daughter at her departure. The classic “take care of them in my place” request. It never came. Their names escaped her. Lanser wasn’t even sure of the status of their relationship. They lived together, but Avalei still hooked up with other people. It was an open relationship, but Avalei seemed very dedicated to her. It is not my place to ask about her private business.

Avalei had shacked up with her ever since arriving at the City. Avalei was not keen to talk about how they met. Avalei didn’t like talking about events that occurred during the Red War at all. Anytime Guardian Red War stories started up, she found a way to wriggle herself out of them. Again none of my business.

 All in all one less headache for her to deal with. She knew she couldn’t expect to hear up-to-date news on Avalei’s health and well-being. Work would be a welcome distraction for now. Little did she knew the biggest headache to ever inflict itself on her was coming.

[what-a-wicked-thing]

Arc I Rising Tides (Part 4)

                   Silken Threads of a Spider’s Web

Reading the Wind/ Casing the Quarters (Part 4)  < previous|next>

(Warnings: Cursing.)

The obnoxious sound of scraping metal followed Avalei all the way back to her ship. If the many, many eyes following her progress to the docks bothered her, she gave no indication. After her dreg friend had helped her to disassemble the pike in a surprisingly short time, she took only one piece back with her. The chassis. It had been a long-time dream of hers to build a custom sparrow from parts she found in the field.

Avalei would not brag about her mechanical skills, they only went so far. Delicate electronics and moving parts were the bane of her patience. Give her some metal and a plasma torch, and she was cooking. Not always pretty to look at, but she always felt a sense of accomplishment as she sat in burnt metal shavings and scattered metal rods.

She dropped her new prize cargo outside her ship, as she rolled out the welcome mat. She preferred to use trans-mat only in emergencies, and so she lowered the ramp. The hydraulics hissed as the underbelly opened up. This ship was a loaner. She had never owned her own. She bummed rides off of her Guardian friends if she ever felt restless. This ship had been supplied by the Vanguard. Gratis. Avalei considered it her sign-up bonus, even if it was an older model. A Golden-Age model, and a Bray Corporation product to boot. The Shadow Trespass. It had been built for stealth, and she had it to thank for a mostly uneventful trip to the Reef.

 It was close quarters within the space junk milieu of the Reef, while dodging roaming hostile Fallen ketches. Her luck had to run out eventually. A ketch concealed among the jetsam had pounced and fired. The RWR had hardly squeaked out a warning before countermeasures were already being deployed. Evasive actions only. No weapons. Avalei had been warned not to draw attention to herself, and had little in the way of weaponry. Her payload was a means of last resort. Shit. 

The ships left wing tipped down 60 degrees to dodge the missiles from above. Automatic electronic countermeasures deceived the enemy further, and the missiles misfired. She was close enough to feel the violent vibrations in the thin atmosphere that clung zealously to the low gravity masses. Dodging and weaving, the ride got bumpier as small debris could not be leisurely avoided. Avalei’s jaw tightened, as they threaded through a narrow scissure. The two ships had drawn more attention to themselves, and other starships had closed onto the spectacle. “Oh, please don’t be friends. Don’t be friends.” As she steeled herself for a new radar lock-on warning, a ketch blinked into existence and immediately engaged her harrier.

“My hero! Just don’t shoot me, please.” She spammed as many open comm channels she could, until the most official one gave prerecorded instructions.Spider, something, something,enter at your own risk. “Friendly place.” Clearly not a vacation destination. At least not for unarmed people.

As she waited for the all clear she watched her former attacker limp away. Her savior had performed the pirate equivalent of a warning shot: the ship was nearly disabled. Reef justice was harsh. She debated whether to send her defender a greeting, but it beat her to the punch. The unmistakable trill of eliksni blasted from her speakers.The tone was commanding, but she heard an almost bored edge to the voice.Her eliksni comprehension of speech was higher than the average person, but she wasn’t used to carrying on a conversation.Body language cut through alot of the awkwardness. As she waffled on how to respond, it interposed itself as her guide and she followed it to her current berth.

 An eventful first day. It was still the first day right? The “day” cycle on the Reef was longer than she was used to. Avalei enjoyed her sleep. Her powers of adaptation were going to be severely tested on this sojourn. 

As she schlepped her trophy into the loading bay, she tested the chassis’ weight. She was limited with the amount of cargo weight she was allowed. Some of the equipment she had packed away was meant to be deployed on the Shore, but she would be required to pick up new shipments. Especially food shipments. If you could call it food. A guardian’s ghost could spice up the nutrient packs only so much. She had even seen competitions between Ghosts to create a more edible dish. If she remembered correctly the winner’s name had been Blink, and her recipe had been so popular they started a petition to add it to the official menu. So far it hasn’t been added.

“Well, they can complain to the Vanguard. I’m just transporting the food.” She had never been a picky eater.

At this time, she had her own emergency supply of food for six months, most in bland capsule form, but there were some MRE’s. She was expected to pick up a food shipment soon in the Reef. As it was she had an independent supply for up to a dozen Guardians for one month.

 She had 50 liters of water on board, and a passive atmospheric water generator which could grab moisture from the air. She would be deploying some of these AWG’s for Guardian use, but she also had an active machine that collected hydrogen gas and oxygen gas and then oxidized and reduced it into potable water. The happy side-effect of this reaction powered fuel cells, which she could charge and distribute at will.

For the more active field warriors, she had water purification tablets, purifier straws, and some old-fashioned survival kits. Hopefully, no one would be dying of thirst on her watch. She recalled the musing of a friendly Guardian: “It only takes one bullet.” Avalei could not do anything about the bullets.

As for her next problem: housing. Most Guardians called their ship home. At least when away from the City. The ship usually loitered somewhere nearby, and was easily escaped to using trans-mat. Any long-term fieldwork might call for a hammock, tent, or sleeping bag. A permanent residence was not feasible. Most of the places Guardians visited were unstable war zones. She could request some small prefabs, or shallow bunkers, but she would have to negotiate rental terms with, who else, but the Spider. He could outright refuse, or have her bending over backwards to get his approval. Then she would need security, which the Spider could “provide” at exorbitant prices she would guess. Nope, the Guardians could find themselves a nice cave to camp out in. She would provide any equipment they needed to do so.

That left trans-mat vectoring, and sparrow vehicle grid grounding. She had several consoles to set up around the areas she was allowed in. She would network everything together, and get things running smoothly.Luckily she had brought someone more tech savvy than herself to assist....

The last thing was starship fuel and in all probability field repairs. She would have to ask Spider for local shipwright experts, and get a good price for fuel on the Vanguard’s behalf. Guardians were expected to be self-sufficient, and a Ghost’s assistance was a boon to them. Speaking of assistants.

“Honey, I’m home.”

[what-a-wicked-thing]

Arc I: Rising Tides (3/?)

Silken Threads of a Spider’s Web

Reading the Wind/ Casing the Quarters (Part 3)                 < previous|next>

As Spider drudged through his dailies his warning klaxon for Thieves Landing sounded. The sound was meant to carry across great distances, and he heard it echo within the tunnels. A priority message on his datapad only said: One pike rider; shots fired. An update pinged only seconds later. Pike rider killed, no further disturbances. He took the interruption as an opportunity to stretch his four arms above his head. His “chair” creaked as his weight shifted back. Usually such banal alerts had been easily ignored, but after being evicted from his home he was on a razor’s edge. But, razor’s cut both ways. His enemies were getting a taste of his ruthlessness. He hadn’t flexed those particular muscles in a while. None would dare to call him soft, he had only turned to subtle acts of aggression. He rotated his arm joints in perfect synchronicity to pump some ether back into his stiff arms.

 He balled his hands, and realized he had grabbed back onto the Ghost after his guest had left. His upper right hand seemed to be more restless than the others. Ghosts fit his palm perfectly, and sometimes in anger he threw them at his underlings. They were a utile multi-purpose item. Comfort? Distraction? These days the compulsion was done nearly unconsciously.

 He had more important things to dwell one. “That’s the third one this cycle.” He tossed the Ghost casually into the air and caught it with his right hand. “Are they getting closer?” Spider brought up the AV from Avrok in the field. He dispensed with patching in so as not disrupt this delicate reconnaissance mission.

He had no doubts. It had to be the Scorn. Even the new upstarts would exercise caution where his associates were patrolling. If they weren’t cautious: they were dead. Spider was not pulling any punches. Former business partners, old friends, and even relatives were under suspicion. With such a volatile climate one wrong move meant certain death.

Spider squeezed the Ghost as we watched one of his more reliable dreg associates shuffle and creep across rocky terrain. He needed eyes on his enemies around the clock. Hazy silhouettes slowly focused into view.

The Scorned Barons had been a manageable problem before their association with Uldren Sov. He hated to admit it but it seems he had underestimated the Awoken Prince. Feh. Uldren had destroyed the House of Kings from top to bottom. Craask’s vanity was his downfall after all. The last original Kell had finally fallen. Wolves,Winter, Devils, and now Kings. Another lesson for the survivors: patience should not exceed the payoff. All that waiting with nothing to show for it.

Spider’s eyes narrowed as hunched figures shuffled closer.The horrors of war were old hat to him. Torturous body modifications, ether starvation, and daily beatings could turn the strongest into weakened shells.He had heard that Variks had become very creative in his handling of prisoners. But, this was beyond that. These... creatures. They were perverted corpses. His mind immediately compared them with Taken. Consumed by darkness and beholden to Oryx. These were not loyal slaves of the Hive. They followed Fikrul, the Fanatic. However or wherever he had received these powers Spider was committed to wiping it from existence.

“Abominations.”

A new pernicious torment unleashed upon the eliksni. And this time by their own kind.

“Not here. Not on my Shore.” The question remained: how? How do you kill the living dead?

[what-a-wicked-thing]

Late Introduction

This is your smutsmith Jessie here! The minute I heard Spider’s voice I knew I was a goner. I have a lot of ideas for this fic. So stick around dear readers.

[what-a-wicked-thing]

Silken Threads of a Spider’s Web

Laws, like the spiders web, catch the fly and let the hawk go free. -Spanish Proverb

Reading the Wind/ Casing the Quarters (Part 2)                  previous|next

(Warnings: Violence, Cursing)

 As Avalei slunk back to her ship her fingers twitched to hold an invisible knife. She had kitted down to “blend-in,” and the only weapon she had to her name was a Sand Wasp-3AU. An auto rifle with minimal modding and the original shader. Not her usual modus operandi. Since the fall of the City, she had become less of a collector. The draw to shiny engrams and the thrill of the unknown was gone. The unknown only vexed her now. Yet, here she stood on foreign ground.

 This assignment was a chance to relax, at least that was what she had told her friends. So much had changed after the Red War, but adapting was her specialty. She told herself she hardly noticed the absent quiet hums of a constant companion. The subtle weight of knives on her belt clip. Laughter over her comms. The comforting heat of a body next to her’s....

 She startled to a stop when she found she had snaked her way back to Spider’s hideout entrance. She let out a sigh as she looked up back into the dazzling hazy sky as the Tangled Shore struggled to cling together.

 The Tangled Shore had a raw, desperate beauty to it. As for it’s inhabitants, time would only tell. She had read the generic travel advisory, along with the Queen’s Wrath succinct brief, and the Vanguard’s jealously guarded intel about what to expect. Then there was always the outlandish rumors and romantic fancies. She would judge it all with her own eyes.

 As she mulled over her next step, Spider’s spiky associates, milled about. Some scanned for hostiles, but payed little mind to her. She had already been painted by their IFF as friendly, but trust was a shaky thing within the Reef. The realm of the Awoken.

 The only Awoken she knew well, was an earthborn. A feisty woman full of piss and vinegar with a surprisingly soft side. A shadow of a smile turned up her lips as she remembered an earlier conversation.

 “You? A Hidden? One of Ikora Rey’s pets?”

“Oh, please say that somewhere she could hear you.”

“Tell her yourself, coward. What qualifications do you possibly possess? You’re a horrid mechanic.”

“I consider myself a “tinkerer.” Thank you very much.”

“You’re shit in a firefight.”

“It’s about the hunt not the kill. Besides, knives are fun.”

“You never go anywhere alone, you always have to drag one of us with you!”

“It’s fun to be around friends.”

“Who the hell signed off on this?”

“Ikora Rey.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“It’s mostly logistics. A supply cache here, a supply cache there.”

“Mostly, huh?”

“It’s very hush, hush. You should be honored I’m telling you. You are one of my three emergency contacts.”

“Avalei....”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it. It’s already done. Don’t worry.”

“You know I will.”

“C’mon, I have to leave in a week. Let’s have some fun in the meantime.”

“Your definition of “fun” isn’t quite up to par. But, yeah let’s get loose. I know a place.”

“You always do. Have I ever told you you’re my favorite wingman?”

One single Awoken does not a good sample size make. Avalei could not make a basis on individuals alone, but individuals were part of the whole.Her friend rebuffed reefborn for being upright killjoys. Which didn’t really fly since she practically worshiped Zavala. And he was--Zavala. She probably resented their passivity to their Queen, and what she felt as rejection simply for her origins as an earthborn. When the Reef opened up her friend had been so excited, but the mutual isolation of their peoples, had caused some culture shock on both sides.

 Like the fact some eliksni were friendly. She wouldn’t categorize Spider as friendly, maybe somewhat accommodating. The Vanguard had been filtering negotiations through the Queen’s Guard to further open the Reef for quite some time. The scattering and weakening of the Awoken forces after Oryx, and then the Red Army of Ghaul had forced their hand. Preliminary scouting, of “hospitable areas” had been completed and analyzed. Approval between all parties had concluded, and now the first visitors, at least legitimized visitors anyway, were on their way. More people here meant more business. All things that would benefit someone with their hands in all the commerce of the Tangled Shore. All in all a very sweet set-up for the Spider. Her old self would have been envious.

 She heard the trill of an eliksni klaxon, and checked her radar. Her radar painted a single hostile pike rider who sprayed down fire as they came blowing through the landing area. Avalei grabbed her gun, and ducked behind a shipping crate. As she was tweaking her sightings, he blew past her. She burst out of cover and aimed for his afterburners. Several good hits later his speed had decreased and handling grew shaky. 20 meter later he had bailed from the pike and was immediately lit up by Spider’s boys. She double-checked her radar for more homicidal pike riders, and finding none, she walked over to the body to take a cursory look at the madman. Eliksni. Dreg. She noted his garb, from an unfamiliar house, and some fresh burn marks. As she detailed this for a future report, she looked toward the smoldering wreck of the pike. Curious onlookers had started inching closer to it. A dreg had excitedly bounced right over already taking the bike apart in his head, what to use, what to dispose of, and all the glimmer that he would make.

“Hold up. I call first dibs.” The dreg scurried back at the foreign voice.

A human newcomer. He noted it’s weapon, and watched it warily. The human waved it’s empty hands in a nonsensical gesture and came down into a crouch near him. He drew as far back as he could, but she showed no nervousness at his close proximity. She mumbled in the flat tone of her peoples and gestured a clumsy eliksni bartering sign at him. It closest meaning was “let’s work this out between us.” He looked and saw no other dregs were approaching. They would usually squabble and scrap over a prize like this. They were probably nervous around this newcomer. She waited for his sign of agreement. He raised his lower left arm thumped his thumb in the middle of his chest and drew a line down. She took her left hand and with a closed fist bumped her chest twice. The terms were agreed to. Avalei’s first contact with the locals, as she scavenged from the dead.

[what-a-wicked-thing]

Silken Threads of a Spider’s Web

Words are like the spider’s web: a shelter for the clever ones and a trap for the not-so-clever. --Malagasy Proverb

Summary: The Spider of the Tangled Shore has managed to trap many into his web of deceit, and one-sided dealings, but a new arrival on his shore unknowingly threatens to unravel all he has built.

Rating: M for blood, violence, cursing, mind-altering chemical usage and sexual situations. (Warnings will be included at the beginning of each post.)

Reading the Wind/ Casing the Quarters (Part 1)                     Next>

 As the eliksni known as Spider held court at his new temporary headquarters he received a new visitor. A human visitor. Ah, a female human visitor. Her armor was minimal, mismatched and mussy. But underneath the filth a feminine silhouette. A ratty green scarf twisted around her neck. Her chin was tucked in behind it with her mouth almost unseen.

 The human obsession with being a unique individual had helped him decode them by personality and occupation, based only on their clothes. This one screamed, “down-luck drifter.”

 For Guardians it was even easier. Bulky armor. Titan. Hooded cape. Hunter. Long robes. Warlock.

Sometimes they were colorful, and a feast for the eyes. This one was not. Inconspicuous. “Nothing to see here.” Secretive. Suspicious.

 The visitor tugged her scarf down, with a gentle sigh. She had only glanced in his direction and dipped her head in an a polite acknowledgement , but he had diverted his attentions back to his console after his quick once-over. She blinked at his “throne” a spider tank walker. The ropes that helped suspend it led her eyes to his collection of ghosts. She averted her eyes quickly. His restless movements, finally grabbed her attention.

 His new visitor, was now captivated by the ghost he fiddled with in the palm of his upper right hand. Too captivated. Using a subtle sleight of hand, he vanished it out of sight. This caused the diminutive human to shake herself out of her stupor. Her once slackened jaw, and open mouth formed a harsh line. The curiosity that burned in those eyes shifted to wariness. He huffed out a short sound of amusement.

 “Welcome to my Shore. I must congratulate you on getting this far.” That was not empty praise. Scorn, the new House of Dusk, assorted escapees from the Prison of Elders, refugee Awoken, stranded Red Legion, even the abominable Hive, had inundated the Tangled Shore. Some were outright hostile and some were very desperate. Well, more desperate than usual. Luckily for him desperation equaled profits.

 “What brings you here to my Tangled Shore?”

 She shrugged.“Vanguard business. Specifically, support for the Guardians.”

 Since the Queen Mara Sov had opened the reef to guardians, new visitors and new business was being thrown his way. New competitors, too. The breakout at the Prison of Elders, was a complication he was looking to twist in his favor, like most things he did.

 “Food caches. Housing. Trans-mat vectors. Vehicle grid. Starship refueling. Those will be my prime focus for the time being.”

 “I noticed you didn’t mention weapons or the like?”

 “I didn’t want to cut into your business.” She twisted the word until it came dangerously close to an insult. He pretended not to notice.

 “Smart. As long as you stay smart I see no problem allowing you to stay.” He waved her away with one of his free arms. “Enjoy your visit.”

 And from there his troubles began.