Jinx

The well-endowed Dogs & Jinx’s box

You’re a bad, bad lassie, Hoarse Fix used to say, breath stinking of boiled seaweed; though truth be told, Jinx always called him ‘Later’ and it kinda stuck in the Gish manner, much to the old man’s chagrin. Anyway, this was back when she was visiting his underwater cave to steal stuff, and show him her toes for rusted coppers, because the old Gish had a thing for them.

Toes that is.

Like Abrakas, the vile.

Also fingers and earlobes.

The younger, the better.

It was disgusting, not because she was a kid at the time, the Gish don’t really much care about that stuff and some of the big-nosed people, who preach that they do, only remember their outrage, when it is convenient for them and nigh inconvenient for their enemies.

Ye know what? Fuck Fix Later, she decided.

Good riddance.

On the topic of preferences now, Whisper liked lips herself.

Their softness and taste. Always different from person to person. How they felt, when she was kissed, or when she was doing the kissing. She smiled at the fond memory, Zola’s face glowing warmly in the lewd dream, the sentiment making her toes curl upwards and bubbles escaped her parted lips and reached the surface. The water moved warming up with her, one hand reaching for that spot in need of desperate attention.

Oh, come on, she whined, missing it the first time and popped one eye open to check on the untimely mishap. Whisper didn’t want to open her eyes and ruin the mood of this precious personal time, nor did she need to usually. Finding where important parts of her own anatomy were, was all but instinctive to her, unless the young Gish was too frustrated and blind drunk.

Or had an audience.

Alix gave her a thumb’s up, distorted face beyond the water’s surface urging her to continue.

“Ye fuckin’ cunt!” Jinx yelled, bursting out of the barrel, a generous portion of the water coming out with her, an explosion really, almost splashing on the manically smirking Alix Walker. The male Gish managed to avoid the worst, jumping off the table they had used as vantage point to spy on her bath-barrel, but Liko for whatever reason didn’t move at all. The water drenched him from top to bottom, perhaps a sage thing, since the boy reeked habitually and the dumbfounded teen took it even in his gaping mouth and started coughing immediately, desperately refusing to look anywhere, but at her tits.

“Fuck’s sake, spit it out!” Whisper admonished him. “There’s piss in it, kid.”

It helped wit infections.

“Haha!” Alix burst out laughing, while Liko stooped to spit the foul bathwater down. “The Goddess’ nectar should be savored!” He declared and Whisper rolled her eyes, looking around for her clothes.

Somebody had moved them. The culprit easier to spot than a fly in yer goat milk.

“Shifty…”

“I had them aired,” The newest member of the Gallant Dogs explained with a seductive smile, adding in a deeper voice. “This heavenly figure… needs no garbs.”

Jinx pushed her right leg forward. “This leg… will kick ye in the cock.”

“Ye noticed?” Alix countered, taking a step back just in case.

“Get it off my face, Walker. I’m not in the mood,” Whisper warned him and he reluctantly buttoned up his breeches, manhandling that impressive rod of his for a while, before hiding it.

“Allow me to disagree, Pink Divinity. Ye appear in just the right mood,” Alix insisted, unwilling to give up.

“Aye!” Liko agreed with enthusiasm, bobbing his head up and down.

“Shut yer mouth kid,” Jinx snapped, with a glare. “I mean it literally as well. There ye go. Now keep it closed, there’s flies ‘n stuff flyin’ about, ye might not be as eager to swallow.”

Whisper Jinx smacked her lips frustrated, at his comic efforts to conform to her orders and then remembered, Alix hadn’t brought her clothes yet.

“Ah,” Shifty Walker exclaimed, realizing she’d figured it out and shook his dark-pink head right and left, sad as a hungry dog. “The kid blew it.”

“I have a poison that makes ye shit all day, not always from the arse…” Jinx hissed and Alix threw his arms up in mock surrender and went for her clothes, leaving her to wait awkwardly with Liko.

“Was it his idea? Comin’ here?” Jinx asked out of the corner of her mouth, when the Gish was out of sight.

“Ahm, nope,” Liko replied. “He wanted to find out, where ye keep yer gold; but I proposed spying on ye instead, to keep him from it.” The young boy glanced at her naked tits again and Jinx allowed him to stare freely.

He’d earned it.

Ah, sweet Spring is upon us, she thought, eager to get out. Actually it had arrived already, flowers blooming, all those diverse scents released around her and people started being less rigid in their affairs and clothing.

Gish loved the better weather as well.

Sunny days most of all.

It warmed the water and when yer growing up on the Sinking Isles, ye better like getting wet and learn to sleep in it.

Chilly waters are a nightmare to sink into.

“Lady Jinx,” Crafton said, tackling her before she’d the time to step outside their inn to enjoy all the aforementioned stuff. Walk the market, flirt aplenty and take another crack at the races.

“Yes!” Whisper snapped, a little annoyed. “What is it?”

The aged Northman had several scrolls in his arms and a ledger, of all fuckin’ things, and pointed at a table, right at the corner of the Inn’s restaurant, of sorts.

“If ye have the time, I’d like to show ye the progress on the Company’s finances and future plans.”

The Gallant Dogs was the mysterious company the man was referring to.

Jinx blinked, her mouth twitching one way, chin the other and eyed the scribblings on the first document he’d produced for her. The handwriting even worse than hers.

“What’s this?”

“Mostly numbers, apologies for the few mistakes,” Glen’s uncle explained. “I haven’t used a quill in ages.”

She could’ve figured that last part out herself.

Jinx had used one recently as a matter of fact, but not for writing.

Although, art was produced just the same, she thought leering at the vivid memory.

“Don’t worry about it,” Whisper replied nonchalantly, coming about, realizing Crafton was still there, with no intention of leaving. “The Dogs are illiterate top to bottom.”

“All things can be learned,” Crafton argued. There was meaning there, somewhere, Jinx thought itching to wrap this up quickly and head outside.

“Is there a short version?”

“Ye asked me to prepare for a possible southern expedition,” Crafton paused, old eyes lighting up, before adding excited. “A treasure hunt.”

Jinx smacked her lips, used a finger to scratch around her tiny nostrils, clean anything found there in the process and then took the scroll Crafton still held for her. She raised an eye from the mess scribbled on the parchment and stared at the blissful man.

“Ye know, nothing is set in stone. It is probably just a myth, the pendant a cheap thing in need of a story to bolster its worth.”

“Have ye seen it?” Crafrton asked.

“Aye. It’s made of iron, shaped like an ankh, like the staff that these Uher fanatics carry around. It’s not very impressive,” Jinx explained.

“Still a clue,” Crafton insisted, unwilling to let go.

“Just keep yer head on yer shoulders,” Whisper advised him, then glanced at the numbers again. “A supply mule for every two members of the Dogs?”

“It’s a long journey, even if we use a ship.”

“Well, I’m still working on the ship. I’ll need Glen’s help there,” Jinx explained.

“Of course. It’s his ship,” Crafton replied with conviction.

“Well, I haven’t read the will yet, nor am I privy to the finer details on his assets—”

“The Lord of Altarin takes everything,” Crafton declared greedily.

Wow there, partner!

“Hey, lets ease it up a little. We don’t know that,” Jinx sighed. “What’s having you so excited with all this?”

Crafton frowned and took a step back.

“I hadn’t the chance to plan such a large ‘n legit operation before,” He replied measuring his words, which was weird, since Jinx’s query was pretty simple.

“Lots of shady dealings in the meat business?”

“Ahm, well…” Crafton tripped over his tongue, taken by surprise.

“Ye were a butcher,” Jinx reminded him, narrowing her eyes.

Crafton nodded.

“Yes, but as all folk, I had my hand in a couple of other dealings. People trusted my skills to organize a decent escapade.”

“Say, like a robbery?”

“What? No… I was talking about market opportunities,” The man countered, visibly upset.

No ye weren’t.

“Anything else, mister Crafton?”

“We have to hire more men,” He replied, after recovering his wits somewhat. “Perhaps, of better quality than Mister Walker.”

“What’s wrong wit him?” She probed, to see where he was going with this.

“Well, other than the fact, he’s a thief?”

“Aren’t we all?” Jinx deadpanned, without batting an eyelash.

Crafton pressed his lips all tight, but prudently refrained from commenting. There was a story here, Jinx thought. A pretty curious story.

“Men that could fight was my meaning,” He finally said.

“I’ll think about it. Anything else?”

“The badges are ready,” The man reported and it took Whisper Jinx a hot minute to understand what he was talking about.

Ah.

Oh crap, I should’ve cancelled it!

Darn it!

No sooner than she thought that, the door of their inn, aptly named Cheap Liaisons, burst open, either from a kick, or a man of enormous strength, almost breaking from its hinges and Jinx heard Soren’s voice protesting.

The Northman being the apparent culprit.

“Thought it got stuck again!” He yelled entering, a gold badge hanging from his neck, eye-catching to say the least.

“It wasn’t stuck the last time,” Zola replied coming up behind him. “It’s called locked, dear.”

“Bah!” Soren griped, then seeing Jinx and Crafton watching then, still stunned and half-pissed, he smiled broadly. “Hey, check out my badge, Pretty!”

Jinx closed her mouth and tried to gather her thoughts, his pleased outburst catching her unawares.

Everyone else getting into it in the meantime.

“He should have made it, with a clasp,” Zola complained, hers hanging from a leather cord down her impressive bust.

“Frank wanted extra compensation for that,” Crafton explained, eyeing Jinx, afore adding. “The man’s a crook.”

Yer preachin’ to the choir!

“Wait,” She intervened, finding her chance. “Where are the rest of them?”

“I have ‘em here,” Soren replied, smile still on his face and produced a small wooden box from his satchel.

Whisper Jinx took the small box, opened it and examined its contents thoughtfully for a brief moment. Then glared at the big Northman.

“Where’s the rest of them?”

Soren frowned.

“What you mean?”

Jinx showed him the half empty box.

“Well I have mine here,” Soren said, sounding troubled.

“Yep, same,” Zola added, with a taunting smile.

Jinx eyed Crafton and the former ‘butcher’ allegedly, shrugged his shoulders.

“I keep mine under lock and key,” He said simply.

Of course.

“Liko and Walker got one as well,” Soren further elaborated.

“Liko? Do you have any idea how much dis shit worth?” Jinx all but growled.

Soren narrowed his eyes, not likening her tone.

“Can’t put a price tag on friendship, boss,” He said affronted.

Jinx blinked, taken by surprise yet again and stunned into stupidity for a brief second, but before she’d time to give the oversized doofus the tongue-lashing, he so rightly deserved, Crafton put a hand on her shoulder, which Whisper Jinx didn’t much appreciate and said, his tone diplomatic.

“How about ye try yours, Captain? I have a cord fixed for ye.”

Jinx looked at the leering older Northman, behind a pink curtain of hair. Then at the badge offered, a leather cord going through the small hole left open, above the engraved portion of it.

“Nobody takes another from here,” She relented, giving the box to Crafton and accepting the badge in return. She pushed it over her head and then raised the oblong emblem to check on it.

“What do you think?” Crafton probed, his smile disconcerting.

Too much rotten teeth in it.

Whisper snorted and pushed her unruly hair back with a hand.

“The cord is too long,” She started.

Or made for a taller person.

“I’ll shorten it for ye,” Crafton replied quickly.

“Is that a dog?” Jinx continued, narrowing her eyes, not exactly sure on what she was looking at, the engraved surface of the badge facing her.

“Ayup,” That was Soren, beaming like an idiot, just about ready to start a diatribe on the why.

Jinx raised a hand, index finger pointing to the ceiling to stop him.

“I know the symbolism,” She stated. “What’s that between its hind-legs?”

It better be a tail.

An awkward silence ensued, no one really wanting to take the first crack at explaining the bizarre illustration.

“Well,” Crafton said, an unlikely man to speak first, since Jinx thought he was neither brave, nor artistic enough to know what was going on. “Frank wanted to portray both instances of the Company’s name. We had the dog nailed down—”

“You wanted the Gallant?” Jinx queried, cutting him off, as she couldn’t really see the connection.

“Aye!” Soren thundered, apparently much more versed than her in arty matters.

Crafton grimaced and then let out a deep sigh, all an act, before he threw the Northman under the carriage. “It was Mister Soren’s idea.”

“Frank agreed!” Soren protested, raising his voice even more.

“Frank’s a crook!” Crafton reminded him, just as loud.

Jinx closed her eyes and all but growled at the top of her lungs.

And she had quite a voice in her.

“FUCK IS THAT THING?”

Soren frowned and puffed his cheeks out, long half-burned beard dancing underneath.

“It’s a cock.”

Huh?

“An artistic depiction of it,” Crafton hurried to elucidate, seeing Jinx’s incredulous expression.

“What’s gallant? It’s not some kid,” Soren insisted, his ‘logic’ all over the place, while Whisper stared at the engraved image with new eyes, doubly flabbergasted at the audacity of putting such a thing on a badge.

“The virile man. The manly hero,” Crafton worked overtime to sell Soren’s idea, apparently agreeing with him.

Jinx glanced at Zola, but she shrugged her shoulders indifferently.

“I like the vulgarity of it,” She said, all serious. “Thought you would as well.”

“It’s almost as big as its leg!” Jinx protested.

“Some dogs, are well endowed,” The Issir woman said matter-of-factly. The Gallant Dogs, was her meaning. Adding with a naughty wink that rushed Whisper’s blood to her head. “The other dogs steer clear from them.”

Yeah, Jinx thought coming around to it, feeling lightheaded and quite flushed all of sudden.

A voice coming from the open window, interrupted her daydreaming and brought her back to the present abruptly.

“I told ye, I will come back, you bitch!”

A familiar voice.

Calm Pollock had returned.

Jinx checked out of their window.

And he brought friends.

“We have a problem,” She said quickly to the others, pointing a thumb outside.

“Come out, or we’ll tear this shit to the ground!” Calm thundered angry.

“How many?” Crafton asked.

“What? No ye won’t!” That was their innkeeper, probably the one that had ratted them out.

“Twenty? Too many,” Jinx replied and moved to bar their door. Then the window. She sighed. They wouldn’t last a minute.

“YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES!” Calm raged at the top of his lungs, from the middle of the street.

I’ll take that, Jinx thought.

“Did ye get the horses?” She asked turning to a troubled Crafton.

“Yep, but I haven’t found a good deal for the—”

She stopped him right there.

“Forget the mules. Does yer window face the stables?”

“Aye, but we need the mules, chief.”

For fuck’s sake.

“Forget. The darn. Mules!”

Alix chose that moment to appear all flustered.

“Keep yer calm, lads. There’s some nasty people out on the street,” He announced and seeing everyone already had it figured out on their own, quickly added keeping his legendary cool. “So what’s the plan, Goddess?”

“We run for it,” Jinx deadpanned, trying to appear unruffled under pressure, much as legit leaders do. She hadn’t had the time to eat, brush her teeth, or even breathe, since getting up this morning.

Even her ‘session’ was cut short.

“Ye look delectable, when worried,” Alix retorted, not missing a bit. “Twice that in the morning.”

A Gish eventually, will get in yer pants, Whisper thought, blushing to the roots of her hair.

The roof of the stable was almost three meters under the second story window. Apparently, some thatch and a lot of planks that may or may not hold her weight.

Oh, darn it.

Whisper hated heights.

“Grab my box!” She half-shrieked half-asked, seeing Alix coming through the door, his hood covering his head for some fuckin’ reason. “We need to jump!”

“There’s a box…” The male Gish started, red-rimmed eyes narrowing, taking his bloody time to think it through and Jinx all but groaned in frustration, pointing with a finger.

“Under the bed!”

Liko, who was the first to jump down, stood upright and gave her a thumbs up, then stabbed down with his foot at the dubious built roof a couple of times, to demonstrate its sturdiness. The creaking sound produced from the dodgy construction terrifying.

“YER TIME IS UP BITCH!” Calm bellowed from the front of their building, the gathered crowd cheering their approval, not that they knew what they were cheering for, or whom.

Jinx snapped her head back and glared at Alix.

“Get the box! Hells are ye doing?”

“It’s too freakin’ heavy!"

“Put yer back to it, for fuck’s sake!”

"I'LL PLUCTH ALL YER TE’TH OUTH!" That was Fourteeth, assuming the moniker hadn't changed. The man just couldn't let go.

“What about the bag?” Alix asked, huffing and puffing trying to hold on to Jinx’s medium sized box, while she prepped herself up for the drop. Glen had no problem carrying it, she thought, before Alix's query registered.

Hmm.

“What bag?”

“There’s one… let me get it,” Walker said, putting the box down and stooping under the bed.

“Leave the bag, Shifty!” Jinx hissed. Zola landing nimbly in the meantime, using the window next door and calling for Soren to make the jump next. Crafton had made it to the street already with Liko.

The old man knew how to leave a building in a hurry, she thought intrigued.

“There might be loot in it!” The male Gish protested rifling through the contents like a maniac, his greed immense.

Was that her bag?

Shit.

“What in Nesande’s tits is this?” Alix exclaimed getting up, holding something in his hand.

There it is, Jinx thought. Being wondering where it had disappeared to.

Out of all the freakin' moments, ye could've sprouted out, ye chose dis one.

She walked there, snatched the leather bag away and then made an attempt to take her ‘tool’ from Walker’s hands, but the thief dodged the attempt. So Whisper kicked him hard right at the shin instead, almost doubling him over.

“GAH!” Alix protested hobbling about comically on one leg. “Why did ye do that for, beautiful?”

“Give it to me,” Jinx ordered, more than a little flustered.

“What is it?”

This is Luthos doin’ for sure!

“Better ye don’t know.”

“Hah! Now I want it doubly. Should I guess?” He teased flipping it once and catching it with the other hand. “Looks like a thief’s blackjack to me, dear.”

Jinx sighed, her shoulders shagging.

Ye don’t get to call other people hypocrites, then turn around ‘n hide yer dirty laundry under Liko's bed.

“UP THE BLOODY STAIRS!” Pollock yelled from inside the inn. They were running out of time.

Out wit it girl.

“It’s a wooden phallus,” She blurted, nigh embarrassed.

Alix Walker blinked, taken by surprise. A second later he tossed her the crude love instrument and Jinx deftly caught it mid-air and hid it in her bag again.

“Get the box, but be careful with it,” She ordered the still shaken Gish.

They had to move.

“What do you have inside the box, Goddess?” Alix asked her again a couple of minutes later, the drop from their inn’s window a great success, for her and Alix that is. Soren went straight through the roofing, breaking a couple of beams and shattering the old planks, ending up on the stable’s floor, but miraculously and despite the ruckus and considerable damage to the building, he was unharmed.

“What do you think?” She taunted, the former member of the Thieves Guild. Come to think of it, can anyone quit these things? Jinx didn’t know that.

“I’m gonna guess wrong again aren’t I?”

“What’s yer guess?”

“Your hidden gold, magnificent Divinity.”

“There’s gold, not much though.”

“Thing weighs a ton!” Alix argued and moved it this way and that to hear what was inside, a hand already holding a long iron needle to pop the lock open. Jinx stopped him, putting a hand on his elbow.

“Shifty, put that back,” Whisper ordered, steel in her voice.

Walker looked at her, a little desperate.

“It’ll only take a second, Goddess. Tis a simple lock.”

“Never open it. I mean it Shifty,” She warned him, fully serious.

The male Gish puffed his cheeks out frustrated, but yielded.

“The fuck ye got in there?” He asked, helping her climb on the horse, his voice lowering an octave for the next part. “Tell me yer secrets.”

It’s an egg.

“Do as I say and I might tell ye,” Jinx replied instead and seeing the gleam in his eyes, corner of his wicked mouth rising seductively, she added to slow him down. “One day, Alix. But not today.”