[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] I’m on a hunt I’m after you and I’m hungry for the wolf {WORDS } 1003 {TAGGED } Arnbjorn {WEARING} Shrouded armor Somewhere in the back of her mind, Astrid had been waiting for a disparaging comment toward the khajiit race from her husband. Perhaps it was their own race as nords that made them so quick to judge those of the other races, or perhaps it was something deeper than that. Whatever it was, Astrid knew quite well how deeply her husband despised the cat like race, and while she didn’t feel as strongly about it, she too felt a keen distrust for them. For that reason, she could very well understand where he was coming from. However, a contract was a contract, and as long as he paid them what he had said he would, Astrid wouldn’t need a fur pelt beside their bed as a reminder of this night, however nice that would feel underneath her feet. “No, as long as he holds end up with his end of the deal, that’s all I care about.” With a second to think about that, she added to her initial comment. “And if not, you can show him just how meaningless his life really is.” That held a note of finality to it, though Astrid didn’t think that Arnbjorn would particularly be displeased with that idea. Contracts came first though, so he couldn’t simply kill their contract for no reason. It was so hard to tell herself that, however, with her husband nuzzling her neck and conjuring up all sorts of different thoughts of how to spend the night into her otherwise strictly focused mind. The spell he could put on her was broken, however partially, by the sounds of the ship crashing into the rocks below. With her hands stilling, Astrid curled her neck until she was looking once more down at the destruction they had caused. His grunt was mirrored silently in the sparkle in her eye and the twist of her lips into a smirk to show her approval. Though considerably less able with her sense than her husband, Astrid could still pick up the sounds of a frenzied crew, the splintering and cracking of wooden beams, and the screams as they were forced overboard over the waves while resting comfortably on Arnbjorn’s lap. Her eyes flickered momentarily back to her husband when he made the quip about the darkness. Though her hand found his atop her thigh and gave him an affectionate squeeze back, there was no need to mention why else they preferred the darkness. If they weren’t currently fulfilling a contract from an outside source, there was no doubt they would be making good use of the darkness in another way. And while that would be arguably much more fulfilling and exhilarating, Astrid couldn’t help but think that this was also a lower level of those same feelings. Along with the crashing of the ship, came the increased tempo of her heart beating against her chest. All too soon, she got a warning of movement. Holding loosely to her husband’s arms, she waited patiently to be lowered to the floor. Once her feet had touched the ground, she squeezed his arm one final time before glancing out the window yet again. “I would be surprised if any more than a small number survived the rocks.” The second part of his comment did make her impatient to hurry this contract along. “If we hurry, we can have a good portion to spend elsewhere.” Without wasting any more time, Astrid once more turned on her heel and retreated down the spiral staircase, past the scattered bodies and out the door. Once outside the cold air hit her, causing a sharp – if dampened – intake of breath. Her husband’s warmth would be an easy way to forget the cold once they got away from the biting winds. On quick, yet light feet Astrid made her way through the snow and toward where survivors would be crawling onto the shore, lethargic from the cold that did nothing but exhilarate her more. It didn’t take long to reach the waters lapping at the snow covered shore. Shrewd eyes narrowed while she remained safely out of range of being assaulted by the freezing water. Instead, she paced a few steps, her eyes skittering to and fro while she waited for one to show themselves. However, hearing any living soul was lost to her less sensitive ears with the sounds of the ship still being torn asunder, and the waves crashing against the trap that had destroyed it. Still, she could hear frantic shouting from the water and quickly scanned to try and locate directly where the sound was coming from. Though she was sure her husband must have heard it sooner, she now had a target in the form of a man flailing to free himself from his watery bounds. Down the shore came a shouted reply, as well as a figure stumbling through the snow. Removing her own weapon from its place on her belt, Astrid nodded at the man coming up the shore to communicate that she would take care of that one. Directly after giving her silent message, Astrid left her previous place of rest to walk calmly toward the advancing figure, her stride as casual as that of a common wench. Unfortunately for him, she was no common wench. {NOTES} A liiiiiiiiiiiiittle productivity!

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Duran Duran

Tagged : Astrid | Words : 779 | Notes : Not violent people at all, nope.

Arnbjorn knew he need only give a noncommittal ”Mmm” about the damned cat. He and Astrid both knew that neither one of them would touch that scrap unless he had been dishonest in some way, and Anrbjorn didn’t care if he was dishonest or not so long as the cat was out of his life after the night was over. Most khajiit almost weren’t worth the stains they’d make on his battleaxe. Arnbjorn was no particularly zealous follower of Hircine – the blood he carried was his power to control and concerned him only – but maybe it was the influence of the hunting grounds that made him hate khajiit so much…aside from what they did to earn anyone’s hate. Fur or not, they were a bunch of slimy cowards.

Fortunately, his senses worked in unison to sooth him – the feel and smell of Astrid, the sound of the ship splintering against the rocks, the sight of the dim lights outside only partially illuminating the carnage. As much as Arnbjorn liked the feel of completing his contracts more personally, he figured that he’d be a very content Nord if every contract ended as this one was proving to end, with the company of his beautiful wife to enjoy a scene that the two of them had created without so much as having to touch the victims. Arnbjorn had the chance to touch something much more pleasant, and though he would have appreciated all the morsels from the ship, now bloodied and beaten, had they all bothered to die in the crash, he knew that he and his wife would have to get their hands off of one another long enough to use them to rip the remnant of survivors asunder. Giving one long stroke against her hand and arm and mentally cursing the armor that covered her skin, he lifted her up and sat her back down on both feet so they could get their job done without being distracted for good. Arnbjorn bothered with a sound of displeasure at having to separate from his wife, but he doubted they’d be occupied by their contract much longer.

He gave her a knowing, almost-unnoticeable smirk and nod of agreement with her words before they returned to the scene of their previous work – Arnbjorn distastefully glaring at one of the dead bodies that had rolled off of its perch while they’d been upstairs – and headed outside to finish the job. As usual, Arnbjorn followed his wife in silence, matching her pace in the snow and worrying nothing about his bare feet. His ears stretched even beyond their typical sensitivity to find footsteps in the snow that didn’t belong to him or to Astrid, or for voices, or for anything that would indicate a survivor. He did pick up the sounds of shouting, but they were distant and garbled – whoever was doing that shouting was still in the water somewhere, or in even worse shape, maybe trapped within the wooden cage that the crashed ship had created for any unlucky enough to have been under deck during the crash. Arnbjorn painted a still figure as he stepped up behind Astrid’s pacing, his eyes searching for the first of the shouting forms to show itself as he propped against his battleaxe.

One on the shore, to his right, was spotted only a few seconds before Astrid noticed him. He returned his wife’s nod as she indicated that this leftover would die by her hand. Arnbjorn admired the movements of her form as she trotted away, before splashing on his side of the shore, near an outcropping of rocks, drew his eyes away. A few steps revealed the scaled head of an argonian nimbly maneuvering the water, but too wounded – something was sticking through the argonian’s shoulder – for the sailor to properly drag himself to shore. Arnbjorn didn’t bother rushing to get to him. He trudged up, the argonian only noticing him long enough to spit out a few requests for help before Arnbjorn’s battleaxe sliced upwards through his chin and silenced him permanently. ”Find help in the void,” Arnbjorn said under his breath, before stepping off towards a second sailor who had seen the argonian die and who was trying to escape the snare of a net that he drug onto the shore with him. He produced a dagger that Arnbjorn all but ignored, snapping the man’s wrist violently before driving the axe’s handle into the man’s neck, producing the second casualty. Pleased with his work, Arnbjorn momentarily retreated higher up the shore, looking in the direction of Astrid and her victim to see if her work was done. The shouting seemed to have ceased.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] I’m on a hunt I’m after you and I’m hungry for the wolf {WORDS } 881 {TAGGED } Arnbjorn {WEARING} Shrouded armor She blamed Arnbjorn for her impatience for this contract to be over with. It wasn’t normal for her to pace so much, but she was doing that while she waited to catch some sight or noise of the surviving crew members to reveal themselves. While she did so, she was also careful to avoid stepping on the dead body that had already washed to shore, but only spared it one unpleasant look. Her pacing did still slightly when Arnbjorn stepped up beside her, so that she could stay in one place, her hand resting easily on her hip. She would rather occupy her hands by lying them on her well-muscled husband, but also realized just as he had, that in order to accomplish anything, they would have to keep their hands off one another for enough time to actually complete their contract. Easier said than done. Thankfully – though not so for him – a man showed himself to become her target. Silently communicating to Arnbjorn what she would do, an easy feat after so many years of being married to him, Astrid turned on her heel and walked down the shore toward the stumbling figure. He didn’t see her until she was within a few feet of him. “Oh! Ma’am! Please! I need hel-“ Extracting her dagger from her hip, Astrid simply walked close to the man that had been stumbling. He caught on too late what her intentions were, and she’d stabbed her dagger into his chest before he could do a thing about it. The shocked look was enough to betray his mistake. Supporting him a moment, Astrid retracted her dagger and wiped it on his clothing, before allowing him to fall to his knees, falling face down a moment later. A moment later there was a splash in front of her. Lifting her head up, she spotted another man – a Nord by the look of it – running toward her from out of the water. No wonder he was doing better than the Imperial she had just ran through, with his bloodlines. A pity really, to dispose of a nord, but she had long before stilled any of those feelings. “Hey! What are you-“ Perhaps he had seen the glint of moonlight reflecting off her dagger, or perhaps some deep instinct warned him of the threat she produced, but her swipe at him with her dagger was blocked by the giant arm that came up to still her attack by bluntly hitting his arm against hers and causing her dagger to fall into the snow. With a low grunt, Astrid ducked under the sweeping blow from the right and jerked her knee up to slam into his abdomen. Dodging the second wild blow he swung at her, Astrid easily rolled over the crouched figure, her back to his, before landing on his other side. Intertwining her arm in his, she twisted and arched her back to put her full weight into her attack. She felt the cracking of bones underneath her pressure, before she once more arched her back and threw him off her in a rolling twist. Gracefully snatching up her dagger, she was in time to avoid the wild attack to her knees. At least the nord was holding true to her expectations and putting up a decent fight. Catching his neck with her arm, Astrid whirled around to avoid his chest plowing into her legs and putting her down. Setting her feet back in the snow, she crouched down to place her weight closer to the ground and jerked back on the man’s neck, managing to reverse his entire movement with her slighter body weight. Putting all her weight into it, Astrid grunted and snapped his neck, instantly stilling him. Releasing his neck with her arm, Astrid shoved the still body down and stepped back, panting a few breathes as she caught her breath again. Easily sheathing her dagger back on her hips, Astrid straightened her hair by smoothing it down and brushed her hands off on her armor, having her breath back by that time. Nudging the nord with her foot, Astrid was satisfied that he was gone as well. With her hands on her hips, she studied the waves with a quick flicker of her eyes to be sure no one else was coming up to the snowy shore. It was only then that she looked back at her husband, her desire stronger than ever, and so with a low growl of finality, she started back to him. {NOTES} I think Total Recall got to me...

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Duran Duran

Tagged : Astrid | Words : 517 | Notes : Not a thing! Guess we wrap it up with yours? Or go a couple more?

Sharp eyes and ears – able to even navigate the dark of the night and hear the neck snapping over the loudness of the waves – perceived that Astrid had found a second target and had only now finished him off, assumedly after a short fight. Heh, did any of these scraps really think they could test their favor with Sithis twice in one night after surviving a crash that should’ve killed them? Arnbjorn could give credit where credit was due – at least this freshly dead one hadn’t died like a coward – but they were all idiots in his feral eyes. They could have made it less painful by cutting their own necks, but the Brotherhood was content enough to do it for them and leave a bloody, intimidating mess in their wake. Arnbjorn preferred it that way.

He stretched out for sounds that would indicate life again, hearing the creaking of the ship against the rocks it had crashed into, the whipping of the wind, and the lapping of the waves, but no splashing, footsteps, or panting, aside from a few from his wife. He could smell oil, too. He figured some oil barrels inside the ship had gotten cracked to bits along with the hull. One torch would set the whole ship on fire, but that fire would stretch to the sky and clean up all evidence of the Dark Brotherhood’s presence here. It was good to leave the water, the splintered wood, and the beach as a bloodied mess, littered with bodies killed in half a dozen different ways. As little as Arnbjorn cared about the cat, he’d be impressed with this work. Hopefully, he’d be terrified by this work, too. Almost snarling thinking about the stupid, devious cats again, Arnbjorn reached over to his wrist where he saw a smear of blood and wiped at it, stopping it from teasing his nose with more bloodlust from the smell. As far as he could tell, they’d finished the contract. Hail Sithis, and a damned good night to the dead.

Meeting Astrid at the middle of the beach, he turned to stand at her side and swept eyes behind her. He had to admit, his eyes stopped on the back of her before they checked the rest of the shoreline, seeing and hearing no one. Dead quiet, well, to Astrid, and as close to quiet as things ever got for Arnbjorn. Just like the void that had swallowed these morsels whole the very moment their bodies stopped functioning. It was almost too peaceful for Arnbjorn, after a slaughter like this one. He’d think he’d been killed. ”Not a breathing body left standing,” he confirmed for her, wrapping an arm behind her back until he had hold of the hip opposite him and pulled her close. ”And too quiet.” Finally bothering to turn to her, he knew the feral glint to his eyes would tell her all she needed to know as he looked down at her face. It was always the best thing to look at, ever after a slaughter. ”We might need to make it defeaning.”

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] I’m on a hunt I’m after you and I’m hungry for the wolf {WORDS } 456 {TAGGED } Arnbjorn {WEARING} Shrouded armor minus dat mask Astrid looked down at the nord she had just taken a life from for a moment. With the scent of the sea spray infiltrating her nostrils and the wind in her hair, she took the moment to revel in a contract accomplished, and perfectly so if she did say so herself. Perhaps she would do contracts with her husband more often. It wasn't that she didn't like doing things with him, but granted it was harder to concentrate on killing anyone when you could sit back and watch your man do it. But there was a certain amount of thrill doing it yourself, and she enjoyed the thrill. Despite not trusting anyone else to come up with the plans to complete contracts, Astrid didn't enjoy having to do so herself as well. She was going to have to step up to do these herself more often instead of sending others. It was time to return to her husband though, which she promptly turned on her heel to do. The nip of the wind only encouraged her feet to move faster to return to the heat she knew would be there - as promised. Something about beings falling by her blade created a nearly untamable desire that only Arnbjorn could please. Even now the creak of the ships hull being ripped apart from the waves followed her, along with the ocean spray. Perhaps it was abnormal, but even the setting encouraged her feet, until she was moving quickly to return to him. The hunger deep within her only grew once she was nearby. "Sithis will revel tonight.", she added to his comment. Shifting closer until her right side was pressed completely up to his body, Astrid growled deep in her throat and turned until she was facing him, the look in his eye reflecting in her own. "Make me scream." It was more a demand than plea while she wrapped her arms around his neck and lightly nipped at his neck. Her husband would do just that, she was sure - he always did. An end to a glorious night, one which she had enjoyed greatly. They needed dates more often. {NOTES} I think mah feral mood for you came out, just sayin'

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Duran Duran