The Blood Hound & the Wolf

[Scherezade deWinter]

[member="Larentia"]​

​

The Giggledust broke through Kuat's atmosphere as it made its descent, one Blood Hound and one Loth Wolf aboard the tiny ship. Scherezade looked at Baal as he made himself comfortable on the floor of her cockpit and frowned. He'd only been a pup when she… Not exactly she, but she, got him, and after a year and many growth spurts, he was already big. Her ship was too small for a creature that size; he reached well and above her head by now, and she knew that she would soon enough have to either get a much bigger ship, or find somewhere planet-side to leave him when he wasn't a mission partner. She loathed both ideas.

Baal looked at her and shook his head. He somehow always knew what she was thinking. And at least, on this, he agreed with her. Both options were not ones either of them wanted. And still, while Scherezade knew that he didn't generally like industrial planets, she knew that he would love the chance to get off the ship and stretch his legs a little.

Looking at the planet beneath her, Scherezade sighed. She had been sent her, by none other than Discordia, to see if she could get them a trade deal of sorts, sign a contract for ships. Scherezade had told the woman that it was a silly idea, because the blueprints would easily be shared with half the galaxy, and besides, she had enough income to buy a small starting fleet for the Agents anyway, but Discordia would hear nothing about it until she'd sent one of her First forth to test things out.

One of her First. It was a new position. It was a new… everything. Scherezade did not know what to do with the knowledge that someone actually thought she was a first and not just a grunt worker. She'd been so lost, alongside her sister and her friend, when the three had abdicated their places within the Confederacy and simply left. They had no direction, no plans, no nothing. And neither of them had been willing or wanting to discuss their own reasons, though each had her own.

And then Discordia had found them. Named them her Firsts. There would be more, the elusive woman had promised. Many more. They would topple down the fat empires, bring the destruction of their spheres of influence. No longer would planets pay homages and taxes for politicians who cared not for them. They would bring the galaxy into a new age of glory in which every planet governed itself, without this or other figurehead that towered as a false God above them.

Her friend had become a Speaker. Scherezade and Madalena… Court was still out on that. But they had seen. They had all seen the beginning of the constructs, the people who believed in the cause. And they had all felt it. The warm invite. It was not Endelaan. But it was a step closer to a home.

Dressed in her armor and wielding a plethora of weapons, both invisible and not, Scherezade marched straight to the offices of the shipyard she'd landed next to, a friendly smile on her face.

An hour later, she exited the offices, the smile on her face removed to give way to bitter disappointment. Perhaps a bigger shipyard was in need.

 

[Larentia]

It was a curse to know, a curse to see the present unfold as her history was taught to her. Even the sight of the map as it was now aligned with the history books for this year. Larentia was of royal blood, the Heiress to the throne of skulls, led a lonely life even as she stood watch over the woman who gave birth to her. Would give birth... Tenses were a source of entertainment for the little Wolf in the night, causing fits of laughter which eventually turned into quiet hand covered sobs. Larentia had lived a happy childhood. She was protected and taught, she was loved and trained. Though a Wolf by blood, it was Doashim that brought out the moster. The ichor in the mother's blood and made her mind made her just a tiny bit different than her ancestors. She wasn't just a Doashim, she was his embodiment.

Yet, she was not the monster that kept her on the run, not the monster that made her come here to change the future. The true demons of Figaro Favoura VI were still far from their destiny, divided, roaming the galaxy without each other. They had not rejoined, they had not mothered and father the generation to follow. Yet, Larentia knew the truth - her grandparents would destroy the family in the end. Even if knew Katrine couldn't grasp the concept, not with the future she had come from.

Her systems gave out a sign, causing the blue eyes to rise and look into the screen. "Giggledust," the warrior muttered underneath her breath as the signal ahead showed to be descending onto Kuat. Scherezade deWinter was a legend to her, a name, a bedtime story. A small pebble turned girl, turned ward. She had remained with Katrine for a short while before love had broken them apart. It was the loneliest bedtime story of all because even as a child, she could remember feeling sad for her Mother. She would tell the story but the story held no emotion. It was a matter a fact, a memory without emotions. Sometimes, Larentia asked for the story of Pebble just to see if talking about it would make her Mother feel again but it didn't. For someone like the woman telling every story with such emotion, where everything about them felt so alive to the girl listening, this one seemed so sad to her. Larentia knew now why that was, she had discovered the spell in the end, and she knew her Mother had cared once, loved even. But the spell was strong, powerful. She had released Pebble, Scherezade.

She knew something else though. Not just her Mother's stories but the legends from their spies whispered in the quiet of corridors. Agents of Chaos were coming. Theirs attend to destroy the patterns of the map were nightmares to ward of little children but as the patterns showed in the history books, Larentia remembered the purpose. Empires had grown to monstrous sizes, and no one had been there to stop them. Now, Larentia knew better. They didn't strike fear in her heart, they gave her hope. Perhaps, their chaos could help her, change the future. Small things changed the future, just as her Mother had learned in the end. Small actions caused massive hurricanes. Agents of Chaos were those small actions.

Her ship descended onto the planet, the warrior parking it hidden before she grabbed the coat of her armor (no mask), and exited her ship. She knew the legend of their leader, Discordia was a ghost. She would be impossible to find. Yet, Scherezade deWinter, held a connection to her blood she did not forget, even though at this moment, it seemed less relevant than her future. Their future, Larentia reminded her, as she exited her ship, her amulet around her neck. It had served her well against her parents this whole time, she hadn't parted from it. The warrior continued to walk, to the signal of the ship, coming into view of it shortly.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

[member="Larentia"]​

She'd visited two more shipyards before she decided to take a break. The smaller companies that she'd decided to go through had turned out to not quite be the right choice, not for what they were looking for. Scherezade grumped as she realized she was going to have to go to one of the bigger ones. Maybe even KYD itself. It wasn't something she wanted to do, not something she event thought was best for the Agents of Chaos. But once she could get it done, she could at least return to Discordia and tell her it had been an utter waste of time.

In her mind, what they needed to do was build their own shipyard. Get another sphere, perhaps half the size of Eve, and turn it into a ships manufacturer. They would have the freedom to make anything they wanted to that way, away from prying eyes, away from those who might glimpse at what they were working on while the ships made their ways from the Core to the Unknown Regions. It was just an idea though, and she hadn't told Discordia or any of the others about it yet.

Scherezade spotted a dhabba and decided to go eat there. There was always a charm to small workers' food places. The scents of the spices was breath taking and her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she'd skipped breakfast.

Walking in, she took a seat by the bar and eyed the menu. There were dumplins made of animal intestines. That was interesting! She'd never considered making that before. And of course, a classic dish of bantha wings – a must in any cheap food establishment that wanted to pretend it respected itself. Grining, she ordered both, and ordered a few small steaks as well. A girl had to eat good to maintain her ability to carry so many weapons and fight efficiently while doing so.

 

[Larentia]

The wolf inhaled at the ancient ship, seeking a scent to follow. In truth, she had felt this one before. The humanoid girl within the Confederacy, the lingering scent abord the Nightmother's vessel. This deWinter had a history with the wolves, and the scent reminded Larentia of this. Another quick sniff through her nostrils before she walked ahead, tracing her as she would prey. She was no stranger to the hunt, she had lived as a wolf, she had walked as human. It was part of her upbringing because the wolf and the human were one and the same. On Figaro Favoura VII especially, they were one and the same and no one was to be more the wolf and human as the heiress to the throne. Though the monsters in her own future would come to debunk this legacy they had left behind them when they left the moon, the path was set in motion. Larentia was to be Queen. But before she was Queen, she was Lupine. And the wolf could find her prey.

Hunting humans was not as hunting food though. It didn't have a straight path or a quick find. Larentia would trace it back to front, leading her through the ara before she would feel it fresh and new, causing her to stop, head-turning to the source. Other scents filled her nostrils then, not just that of the girl she sought out. Food. The establishment she was eventually led to was mediocre, typical. Cooked and fried food was an obvious distraction to her senses though. Larentia rarely indulged in typical food. Her diet had since her teens been far more natural, raw. The wolf craved the kill rather than the prepared, the raw flesh of her own conquest rather than the served. It wasn't that she couldn't eat, most wolves lived on a typical humanoid diet, even her own parents but preference to the ancient diet had been craving for Larentia even before she could change, though her young body rejected it before then. The smell of blood called to her even when she was a little girl. Though no Lupine could be a halfling, Larentia was born of two wolves, to which she often joked later on that she was most likely conceived during her parents' wolves forms. Not that she was ever told that but she always knew she was different for her cravings.

Blue gaze paused at a girl at a table, surrounded by quite a bit of food in front of her. A healthy appetite, she noted to herself before she moved closer, keeping her distance still. "Is the food any good?" she asked, not that she was particularly interested in the meal itself. Her eyes shifted barely as she counted the patrons and the staff of the establishments. The majority of them were focused on their food and drinks, a number of them were already intoxicated, others had only begun. They all seemed engaged in their own business. Yet, the warrior left nothing to chance.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

[member="Larentia"]​

The dumplings had been weird. Most cultures that she knew of made them using this or other form of dough that ended up being cooked, which meant that Scherezade didn't like it and more often than not found herself prying the meat free from it either with her fingers or with one of her knives. This though… It wasn't dough, but it felt more like really weird sausages. Too round. Not enough flavoring in the outer layer. She still emptied the plate though. The steaks and wings had come next together. The joy of eating those could all too easily be seen on the Blood Hound's face. The tall mug of hot cream she'd been giving, foam bubbling on top, had only made it more perfect.

It didn't matter if the place itself was just okay. Often, all you needed was a good dish or two, and something nice to drink, and you were set. Content. Happy, almost.

What she hadn't been expecting though, was for anyone to speak with her. Her eyes moving from the food to the woman, Scherezade's brain began to run at a million lightyears a second. Sure, last time she was on Kuat she'd actually battled people, maybe killed one or two, got into fights, kicked the Republic off of it… Why wouldn't everybody want to talk to her? She was supposed to be miss popular here.

No, not really. No one was actually supposed to know or recognize her.

Instinctively, the Blood Hound inhaled, but no scent arrived in any of her senses. Curious. And yet, all that was asked, was whether or not the food was good.

Scherezade swallowed another bantha wing and nodded. "If you know what to order," came the simple answer as a second bantha wing, this one dripping in garlic and cream, disappeared into her mouth. There was something about the woman though, something very… Familiar? Nah. Not on Kuat. Probably one of those faces. There were billions of one of those faces that seemed familiar walking around the galaxy. There was absolutely no reason for this one to be any different.

"Don't order dumplings though," she warned the stranger, "they're weird."