Nerimoira Kel'Dani
You Don’t Own Me {TW Blood, Violence, Mentions of Sexual abuse}
Matte black nails tapped impatiently on the armrest of the high backed chair the red head woman was perched on. The nearly skin tight one-piece suit with sheer skirt hugged her form as the train pooled at her feet.
"Where are they..." she snapped under her breath, "how hard is it to fetch a simple lowlife?" Gold eyes drifted to the deliciously clad male beside her seat giving him a once over before turning to her preferred eye candy on her right. The large male who often shared in her excitement for these justified executions.
Ashraen arched a brow at Moira's fidgeting, however he wouldn't say anything against it. He knew what this meant to her and it was, in truth, a long time coming. His own gold drifted over her form appreciatively as he slowly unbuttoned the sleeves of his rather nice shirt. The fabric was casually rolled up his arms before he lit a cigarette and crossed them.
This one was more than justified. It had taken a while to track down tonight's blood bath, the news of his location having sent Nerimoira on a obsession for his end. She knew just who to call, this particular slaughter would please him almost as much as she.
The man who sold her into this life in the first place, oh how she anticipated the literal bathing in his wretched blood, it sent chills down her arms.
"Depends," he rumbled softly, tones like thunder in a storm. "If they had to force him to come... Well, then, that means he's a fighter. I like them with a bit of fight to them."
He glanced down to the dress pants he wore and brushed away some unseen dust before taking the hand she offered him. A kiss was placed upon her fingers. It was odd to see him looking so nice and yet, he wore the outfit well. Especially in black. "I am curious as to who your little ride along is there?"
She flicked a gaze towards the male whose name had escaped her an hour ago, "Oh him? The substitute should they not find him. Call it incentive for a job done right."
The other male only slightly squirmed, relying on his men to bring the target in successfully. With a flick of her wrist she inspected her nails in silence.
Somewhere down the long hall outside the room, shouting and a scramble could be heard, she lowered her palms back atop the armrests, the false throne room her deceased master had built for himself now painted to suit the little sparrow now perched upon her alter.
"Looks like you keep your head," she mused to the nameless male with a mock pout.
"And looks like you get the fighter you asked for, Love." she purred at Ashraen.
The cacophony in the hall snapped his hungry gaze to the doorway. He lay an arm along the back of her chair, reclining like he was just as important as she. He bent his head to growl in her ear as men began to file through, placing a slow kiss to the skin of her neck.
"Good. You'll get the show you desire then. Now, go on and fluff your feathers. i love watching you pull rank."
Five men entered, one being barely maintained by three of them as he writhed and fought. The corner of Moira's lip curled up as she watched him struggle, his black hair clinging to his sweat beaded skin. Once the group had reached the two small steps to her seat the three armored men forced the distressed male to his knees.
"UNHAND ME THIS INSTANT! I'VE DONE NOTHING WRONG YOU CANNOT DO THIS!" He snarled a hint of fear and waning desire to fight woven in his voice and he tried to fight against the hand holding his head down.
Gripping the front of the armrests she rose in one fluid motion, pressing the tips of her fingers together as she descended the steps, her heels clacking on the tile floor.
"Nothing at all?" her voice came out sickly sweet as the remaining male bowed to her and she dipped her head.
"Who are you?" he hissed as one of the men pushed harder on his head. She placed herself in front of him, and snapped her fingers twice, once to ready the two by her perch and the second ended in a finger pointed upwards. The dark haired males head was forced to look up with a rough pull of his hair.
Ashraen rolled his eyes at the display and sighed, practically peeling himself from his resting place. "Gods above, he's a squealer, isn't he?" He descended the small steps behind Moira when she had the man's head jerked up and moved to inspect him. Prodding here and flicking there, as if the male were a horse for auction.
"Korovass" she hissed with a sick smile.
"And, actually," he purred. "They can."
"ON WHO'S AUTHORITY?!"
"Ah, mine. See, you've caused quite a lot of trouble for some time and, honestly, I'm pretty tired of seeing you wander around freely while others have been chained to a life of torment. Fun fact, I remember every name of every person I have had the pleasure of stringing to my racks. Are you really going to try and tell me that you don't remember the names of all those women that fueled your fortune?"
The male stammered "I-I don't know what you-"
He was cut off by Moira reaching down and cupping his cheek in her hand, a thick mask of ice covering his mouth and fusing to his flesh.
"I'm sorry, what were you lying?" she sneered down at his panicked gaze above the binding. "You of -all- people should remember, after all you physically tested every victim before auction." the disgust oozed from her lips like venom.
Her gaze never left him but she knew -that- tidbit was new information to the men in the room. She had been sure to save that for the right moment, to fuel the vindictive side of the wolf at her side.
Ashraen paused in his pacing, heel poised against the polished tile, and his attention snapped to the male kneeling on the floor. The horror in the eyes barely spared from the ice was better than any verbal truth spoken.
There was a very pregnant pause before all hell broke loose. The kneeling man suddenly surged to his feet, ripping his face from the mask she had attempted upon him, and lunged for the woman. His teeth were bared as he twisted an arm in an attempt to backhand her. It wouldn't get that far. His face went from unadulterated anger back to horrified shock, with a choked off noise.
There stood the Wolf, hand grasped around an unprotected throat, and baring his own fangs. A rich snarl echoed around the room as the muscles in his arms flexed and the male was slowly lifted into the air, hands scrabbling in a feeble attempt to free himself.
Moira didn't even flinch. Nothing more than a sadistic smile on her face as the sound of his snarl vibrated through the chamber. Spinning on her heels the red haired figure ascended to her seat once more, settling into it with head held high.
"Oh, no," Ash purred with an animalistic undertone. "You don't get to touch her anymore. I'll be doing that. And, I'm going to touch you in each an every way you dared lay a hand upon her, and all those others."
"Clearly you don’t know who you are dealing with, you rat. I hire only the best, while they are here you'll be lucky to have left a strand of hair on my clothes let alone touch me."
She leaned back on the seat and pressed the tips of her fingers together in thought, before plucking her tube of lipstick from its place next to her seat and uncapping it.
“Ashraen, love. Just be sure to leave enough life blood for me to enjoy~"
"Oh, don't worry, baby. I intend to bleed him like livestock."
Golden depths became lidded and Korovass was dropped to his feet, only to have his shirt scruffed. He was then dragged from the room, kicking, and screaming, much to the delight of the Wolf who'd set his sights upon him.
"Mmm, I do hope you can keep that energy going. The fighters always make me the hardest~"
Moria glanced at the decorated male still standing next to her, her favorite crimson shade swiped across her lips as she rolled those golden eyes to peer up from beneath thick lashes.
"Well?" She questioned "You were just going to stand there while he lunged at me?"
He stiffened looking uncomfortable, with a snap of her fingers the four who had entered were ordered to grab him and haul him after Ashraen.
"So much for keeping your head. You disappointed me."
The man gave only defeated grunts as he was dragged down the hallway after the true target. In a smooth glide the courtesan followed, her trailing sheer skirt dusting the ground.
This would be quite the show, imagine the Wolf of Silvermoon’s face when Little Red Riding Hood brought him one for funsies.
They pushed the door to the playroom open, the four were familiar with the workings of Mistress Kel'dani's manor, their new son to be ex "leader" was not.
A low purr escaped the woman as she closed the door behind her.
| Age | 200 |
| Eye Color | Gold |
| Height | 6ft |
| Body shape | voluptuous and fit |
| Residence | Estate in Silvermoon |
| Realm | Wyrmrest Accord - US |
