Tio’cou’s Mercy (Death of Rinny Spineflay. 18+ Please.)
Rinny Cursebreaker pushed her hood back and reached out to part the beaded curtains leading into the rundown apartment building. Her nose twitched with the overwhelming assault on her senses. The architecture of the city itself was incredible, a far cry from the ruins of the Troll cities that were scattered around Azeroth. Scents from street vendors selling roasted frogs, barbequed mango slices, fresh fish, and fried sweet breads… her stomach growled.
“Got jousef a novice belle.” A deep, rolling voice thick with Zandali asked her in Orcish. Her fel-tinged eyes flickered up to stare at the figure of the Troll. He sat casually on a tiger skin mat, a long spindly leg stretched out, his other bent at the knee; foot flat on the mat. He was propped up on an elbow, long dreadlocks draping over his shoulders. Her gaze shifted over his lightly furred purple skin, most of it bare save for a pair of shorts. He was fully tattooed, the artistry of the marks intricate and interwoven. It wasn’t separate tattoos that covered him, but a full work of water serpents and angry storms.
“Are you Tio’cou De’jan?” The Amazon of a Sin’dorei woman asks her voice strong and her jaw clicking to remind her to not show her fear. Zuldazar was a dangerous place for anyone not a Troll, and in being an Elf she was one step above food.
Slowly the form of the seven foot troll rolled forward, “What are jou seekin’ petit pink?” Long purple fingers plucked up a blunt from the table in front of him. He rolled it casually between his lips to wet the end of it before tucking it between them. With a practiced motion he sparked his claw-like fingernails together and lit it, taking a deep and long drag. The fragrant smoke was like nothing that Rinny had smelled before. Spicy, rich and strong. She wet her lips, her desire to taste the source of the smoke obvious.
“I’ve heard that I could find him in Zuldazar, a tattoo artist of some renown. Recently lost his shop due to some double dealing with the street gangs here in the underbelly. I’ve heard his artistry rivals my own.”
The Troll leers at her, his eyes and grin predatorial. “Irinyes Cursebreaker. Orgrimmar’s most loved and hated Sin’dorei.”
“You’ve nailed me.” She winks and stalks over to the mat, plucking the blunt from his lips. Tio’cou watched her, quite amused by the brazen and fearless actions of the Elf.
“Jou’ve come a long weh te find a failed tattoo artiste. Nor do I tattoo Elves.”
She grins and exhales slowly, allowing the blue smoke to curl in various patterns as the air carries it away from the figures. Slowly she comes to crouch in front of him, her expression feral and taunting. Tio’cou couldn’t be more amused by her audacity. “I don’t want you to tattoo me. I want to give you a chance. I’m leaving my shop in the hands of my partner; she’s in no shape to run it. Earn her trust and you’ll earn the shop. No questions asked.”
“And why would jou choose me, petit pink?” He reached up with his question to grab hold of her waist and bring her down atop him. Without apprehension, Rinny slung a leg over his stomach and perched herself upon him, shifting her hips to feel the growing desire between the fabric of their garments. A lecherous grin tugged at the sides of his mouth.
Rinny did not answer at first; rather she took a long drag from the blunt and settled it into the shell that served as an ashtray on his table. Her shoulders rolled back to straighten her spine as she leaned down, manoeuvring her head between his large tusks to press her parted lips against his. The rings around her bottom lip catching against his own lip rings. His tongue snaked between her lips and danced over the three studs in hers, feeling them, his grin became wolfish; feral and he breathed in deeply as she exhaled, feeding him the fragrant smoke. “Why wouldn’t I seek someone with experience in running a shop to replace me? Your art is untouchable.” She whispers, pulling away from him.
Fiercely he grabs the back of her head and forces her back down against his lips, his sharp teeth viciously ripping at her lips. She put up no struggle, rather, she allowed it, and her eyes fluttering closed as she ripped at her own clothing to remove it from her body. He aided her, his fingers thin and spindly, simply ripped away her pants, leaving her in nothing but the well-worn black leather thigh high boots she always wore. Tio’cou grunted and worked off his shorts. He hadn’t failed to notice that this Sin’dorei had been well marked by those who had taken her before. The tusk marks at her chest and back, the Orcish tusk scars at her neck, a tattoo of a Sin’dorei house adorned with a pair of pheonix’s. She was a wife, that much he had surmised, a lover and a whore to another. Every bit of her had been ripped loose, abused and with the same recklessness that she fucked him, Tio’cou knew that she was a woman looking to die. “Will jou miss de ones jou leave behind?” He asked her between his grunts, rough grasping fingers forcing him into her fully. She was lost to her own devices, her body shuddering and quivering in his grasps. Her moans were demanding, laced with song.
“Terribly.” She snarled between cries.
A particularly vicious grin tugged at his lips and he slammed himself fully into her, filling her with the efforts of their activities. With his last impaling thrust he leaned up and drove his tusks across the front of her neck. Her eyes shot open and stared down at him thankfully, one of the oddest expressions the Troll had ever seen. “Tell Samedi I send my regards. Jou will not be coming back te take what jou have given, petit pink.” With a grunt he pushed the lifeless form of the Elf off of him and gathered himself to bathe and collect what he’d need for the journey that lay ahead.
Her body fell to the floor with a dull thud, glassy eyes staring up at the ceiling. Irinyes Spineflay would never be able to tell Varsav Eoan of the child they had created that grew inside of her. She would never make it to Kezan. Irinyes Spineflay was dead.