Once upon a time in a land far, far away…no, wait, that one’s been used before.
So, there we are on a ship headed to a harbour the elfies say is “safer” than the one the ship had docked at before. I don’t know how the pixie petes reckon “safe” but we’ll get to that a little later. Pointy-eared pollies. [snort]
Apparently sometime during the brawl in which we arrived the ship captured some uberassassin’s baby boy. He taught us a lesson in how to get a good nap, but his acupuncture technique was a little high velocity for me. Still, nothing along the lines of a good mechanical girl, so while the innovation would have surprised some of my previous employers I maintained that I was less than impressed. Still, the mark of the beast was on us now. I think Callidear
scrubbed half her skin off to get rid of it. I yawned. If he had wanted to kill us, we’d be dead. If he wanted to go all Jigglypuff on us that was his fetish. Heck, I would have (and, um, HAVE) done worse.
It was a little spice in a few days which had become exceedingly dull. Let’s see. I learned the length of the deck, the weft and weave of the wood of my purring table…and that Cap’n Millypoo was at some sort of trial. I hoped it had to do with walking on hot coals, but I was determined to find out why I was here rather than leave and have the hand scoop me up and place me back again. I hoped it didn’t have anything to do with my albatross…erm, amulet, but I only expected it anyway.
I was about bored out of my mind when Karr-Neevorus offered to Show Us the Sights. I was so happy I just about kissed him, but, um, you know where pirate lips have been.
On pirate faces, of course.
Sheesh. What DO you think of me?
Callidear got all dressed up. Or, at least I’m assuming she did; it’s not like we’ve had a chance to gussy up our wardrobes, sitting here on the boat. Karr-igible brought along his own pus–the ship cat.
Suspicious. Still, with twinkle-toes around it could be a cait sith or something mystical. Darn elves can’t leave anything alone. It’s not like my tutor couldn’t shift a shape or two. (Two, I think.) So, cat in tow, we went off to find mischief, pleasure, and, um, whatever it was Calli was searching for.
Nasty perfumed men, I think.
Still, she got paid for it, so I don’t have a beef. We all sell ourselves ; it’s just a
matter of enjoying the bargain, right? I prefer to be paid in cold currency and hot blood. If you’re the type who likes to stain the sheets with sweat, well, more power to you.
The bar was busy. Looked like it was my kind of place, but no insult to the proprietor, I was in a bad mood because someone called me “babe.”
I threw him back.