Friday, September 17, 2010

The Stuff That Only Prince [Arthas] Would Sing About

Decedereful shoveled another scoop of Flesh Flakes into her mouth, crunching down on them loudly.  A poorly snuffed snicker from across the table brought her burning blue eyes up from the bowl to sear into the more natural baby blues across the table from her.  Mr. Wow sat calmly in the fire, weathering her gaze with an unreadable face.

"Whu-?" Decedereful grunted through her full mouth.  "Ain neva see someowa ee befo?"

Mr. Wow chuckled more openly this time.  It was not an altogether unpleasant sound, Decedereful admitted.  In fact, she might have found it cute had it not been directed at her.  Instead, she found his characteristically unkempt hair, roguish smile, and twinkling eyes mocking.  She shoveled another spoonful into her mouth without taking her eyes off of him.

An awkward silence settled over the wooden table in the middle of the manor's living area.

"Anything jog your memory yet?" Mr. Wow asked eventually.

Decedereful crunched down hard on another bite, "Nogh.  Can't fink off noffin.  Proggly haff go Icecrown.  Talgh to broffer."

Mr. Wow shook his head, "That's not very lady like."

Burning blue eyes narrowed, "Whussit to yough?"  When he didn't answer, she swallowed before continuing.  "Why do you care?"

"Well, for starters, I can't understand a word you're saying," the young man pointed out.

"So?" Decedereful shot back vehemently.

She was behaving like a child and she knew it.  The man just frustrated the fel out of her.  They'd been here for three days now, and he hadn't tried to sleep inside once.  He had spent every night out in that cursed tent of his, emerging half-dressed every morning, taunting her.  She had even contemplated offering join him in the tent, but she had standards.  Guys came on to her, not the other way around.  They usually found her boyish ways an attractive invitation, and Decedereful liked it that way.  It was a simple trick she'd learned early: act like one of the boys and let the hormones do the rest.  Then she could have her pick of the barracks.

Not that she was promiscuous.  No way, not her.  Her brother would kill the guys now, if he knew.  I mean, there were her younger, foolish years before the Death Knights had been redeemed, of course, but that phase passed quickly.  She didn't pretend to be a saint, but nor was she cheap.  She wouldn't go very far with it, she just enjoyed a kiss and a cuddle now and then.  It reminded her of her human side, and she couldn't completely forget that. 

Actually, since she had found her brother, she'd been really focused on finding her place and hadn't thought much about boys.  Sure there was the dude in Alterac, and that cute Champion of Darnassus up at the Argent Tournament, but otherwise, she'd kept to herself lately.  Strangely, Mr. Wow seemed to bring out the vixen in her.  She couldn't quite suppress the desire to hold his attention.  She'd tried to ignore it at first, but the more he pretended like there wasn't anything between them, the more Decedereful wanted there to be.  It was a game she wasn't used to playing.  What's more, she felt like Nighty, and that distressed her.  She was not a succubus.

Could it be that he really just wanted to help her, and not gain the affections of a pretty young girl?  Such pure intentions were unheard of, especially directed toward a former servant of Arthas.  After all, Death Knights were widely viewed as Azerothian trash, to be used and discarded.  For a young soldier to not expect... that... was odd.  At least for someone who wasn't a Paladin or Priest.  Come to think of it, she wasn't sure what he was, though he didn't seem like the Light worshiping type.  She'd first guessed Rogue, but he didn't really fit the part.  He wasn't really sneaky enough.  Maybe a Shaman or a Druid, there was something decidedly natural about him.

If he were of one of those two persuasions, that would make it even more confusing.  Weren't Shamans all "free love" and junk?  And we all know about Druids.  Decedereful had seen clips from the Discovery Dream.  She knew.  Besides, there was that song she'd heard in the tavern, by some group called the Bloodknight Gang or something?  You know: You and me, baby, ain't nothin' but Kitties, so let's do it like they do in Silvermoon City.  Isn't that how it goes?

Ugh!  She really was being foolish.  It was bad enough the man had her chasing shadows, now she was humming pop music in her head.  She was a classic rock girl!  Bring on the TC/GC, Silenced Catform, Van Cleavin, and Gob Zepplin!  It's never a bad time to get the Gob out!

She shoved another mouthful of flakes into her maw.  Then, as the awkward paused stretched on, began to feel the depth of her childishness.  So she chewed, swallowed, and counted to ten.

"No, I have not found a clue yet," she said calmly.

The young man snickered again.

Decedereful stood up and threw her bowl of Flesh Flakes at the wall.  It shattered, leaving the soggy flakes to slide slowly down towards the mess on the floor.  The Death Knight found it somewhat satisfying when Mr. Wow's eyes widened in surprise at her ridiculously theatrical response.  Still, she'd made a fool of herself, so she stood up and stalked back to her room, slamming the door.  Inside, she turned around, folding her arms under her breasts and leaning with her back against the door.  After a few moments, she heard his voice at the door.

"C'mon, Dece," the man cooed.  "I was just teasing.  I'm sorry?"

"You're always teasing!" Decedereful huffed. 

She stood up from the door.  Walking over to the pile of armor in the corner of the room, she eyed one of her bracers and kicked it.  Immediately, she regretted the action, as pain shot up her leg from toe connecting with plate.  Hopping around on one foot, she fought to suppress her random cursing.

"What's going on in there?" Mr. Wow asked with obvious concern.

"I'm fine!" Decedereful hollered back. 

She went over and picked up the bracer she'd just kicked.  Cursing it a few more times for good measure, she wandered back over to her pile of gear and tossed it on top.  A glint in the light on the ground caught her eye.  Near the pile, uncovered by her kick, there was a pretty locket on the floor.  Decedereful bent down and scooped it up.  She turned the trinket over in her hands a few times.

Going to the door of the room, she threw it open.  The young man was sitting across the hallway against the wall.  He looked up expectantly.  Oh, now he wants my attention, Decedereful mused. 

"Get up," she ordered.  "I found my clue!"

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