Shorkgirl

That Queer Shark 🏳️‍⚧️☭∍⧽⧼∊🦈

  • Sidhe/Fae/They

Oh Yeah, Our name is Aellae on Discord.

A House of Madness
If I am not I
Then who am I
Jewish
Gay Poetry Nerd
Still Searching for Arcadia
Distinctly Abnormal

My Scribblings
Gallery that has Aellae Screenshots - Including the NSFW ones.
✡ - ϴ⨺ - Plural - Poly - 44 T1D

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Korps Agent West Coast

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Feel free to ask us anything!
Interact with me? Yes, I luv it
In FFXIV a lot of the time
Moon Code : B4ENK65XV4
Carrd : https://aellae-catte.carrd.co/#
Aellae's Mostly IC Place:
@Dispatches-From-Amaurot


Content Warning: Body Trauma, Violence, Pain, Romance, Drama, Mobsters, Guns, Nudity, Sex



17 - Sep - 2007
Precipice



Lapine feet skidded on the roof. Her loppish ears flopping amidst that cloud of blonde hair around her head. She was four years the shark’s senior. It had been years since that night in the hotel room. Here she was, side arm in hand, and the shark was running. The magenta highlights on that exosuit, the glowing emblem on the chest. The hypertech weaponry. It was a classic roof-top chase, it could have been straight from a movie. It just didn’t fit though!

She was older, and she knew it. The Shark didn’t look like she’d aged a day since those altogether brief nights in this city. They had both hedged on the truth. She did work for a company, of a sort. Her boss did send her all over the world. She was an analyst after all. The Shark did in fact have to get to Toronto for schooling. It just wasn’t at any University. And here they were, both of them six years older, and only Abi showed it.

Abi had to pursue, it was her job, and Minerva might have the answers she needed. Both professionally and personally- but why was the shark running? The shark outclassed her with all that kit. She was a rabbit with a gun and CIA identification. The shark had hypertech and a supervillain organisation on her side. Abi couldn’t even call in back up. That’d be a hell of an international incident with Canada. As it was, she was an armed agent of a foreign government operating with the most dubious of veneers towards permission.

Minerva turned at the edge of the next roof, her tail and the back half of her feet hanging out over space, her green eyes locked right on Abi’s own. She then leaned back and fell before Abi could get a word out. Of course with those gravity well manipulators in her boots, her landing was soft. A breath later she was running further away.

“The direct route isn’t the way to follow her and you know it.” The voice was tinged with a European accent. The scent of a kretek cigarette flowed on the breeze, mingling with the other prominent accent of Chanel number 5. “You’re important to her. You effortlessly slipped your hooks into her. Did you intend that I wonder?” The opossum slid her way from her sport coat, setting it on the edge of an air conditioning duct.

Abi’s face melted from that worry into one of knowing what was coming. “You know more than you should, that’s a dangerous thing.” The lapine shifted her feet, trying to prepare herself for what she assumed was a brewing fight. This was not the sort of confrontation that was typically part of her job. She was an asset yes, but not generally a field one, unless there was no other recourse. However this was a face she recognized after a moment. In the files from the BND. The rabbit’s eyes went all the wider. “Nathalie Rosenbaum.” Her pistol wasn’t abandoned, but her left hand fished for her cell phone in her pocket. She never managed to get it in position to dial. She let out a scream.

The opossum's face split into a smile. “Narishkeit.” She whispered the word out, as she started to cross the distance between herself and the rabbit who now had the cell phone stapled to her palm by a switchblade. “That name belongs to a dead woman. Just like Minerva Knox-Trudeau.” The possum brought her hand up and took the pistol from the lapine woman’s grip as if it had been the toy of a naughty child.

Abi was clearly in pain. Her eyes seemed to bulge out from her head. The point of that knife was jutting from the back of her hand. Blood welling around the abused fur and flesh. “Now who knows too much? If you know that name then you know your sidearm would have been useless. This fight is over, nicht wahr?” The rabbit could only nod her head. “Sehr gut. Abigail Thompson, you are not yet ready to follow her. You will be, and when you are, you know I will be watching. Now, you have something of mine. I allowed you to borrow it. I do need it back.”

Abi could only watch in horror as the possum took the hilt of that switchblade in her hand and extracted it back out from her own shattered bone and flesh. The whimper passing her lips was stifled, doing her best to maintain her dignity. The possum took that Kretek from her lips, half smoked as it was, and placed it between Abi’s own. “Tschus, Mrs. Thompson. Until we meet again.”


17 - Sept - 2007 Night
Tumbling



The waters of the English Bay washed against her feet. Her head was chipped with Rose now. She was never without Thala as a result. So she could feel her sister sitting there behind her, back to back on that dock. Abi. It had been Abi who was chasing her across those rooftops. “Thala… little sister dude. How the fuck am I this in knots over her yo?” The sun hung low on the horizon, playing fire across the evening fog and dappling over the waves. Her ocean was here with her too.

“Because you are Min. Love has a way of fucking someone up.” It had been six years that she and Min had been together. Constantly. Save for one night. One night where she’d been ripped off Min’s face and that had been agony. It had been agony for both of them. Thala had paid the consequences of all the safety overrides she’d allowed years before. She and her user were far more bonded than they should be. Minerva herself had felt as if a part of her soul had been torn out.

The Shark sat there on the dock, swishing her feet lightly in the water. Her voice then started to ring out as she sang. “Winter is here again o’ lord, haven’t been home in a year or more. I hope she holds on a little longer. Sent a letter on a long summer day. Made of silver, not of clay. Oooh I’ve been runnin’ down this dusty road. Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin’, don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow! Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin’...”

There was another presence against her back. Thala’s weight subsumed underneath a far more tangible presence, one whose shoulder blades were just about the same height as her own. An intoxicating scent of perfume and shampoo, and a voice. “I’ve been trying to make it home, got to make it before too long. Oooh I can’t take this, very much longer, no. I’m standing, in the sleet and rain. Don’t think I’m ever gonna make it home again! The morning sun is risin’, it’s kissin’ the day!” Her voice was magical. There was an undercurrent of pain, but that laughter was still in it.

Minerva swallowed. All pretence of High-Tide vanished. Thala whispered in her mind. “Be honest.”

Abi’s shoulders tensed slightly. “Hi Minerva. I’m Abi.” There was a little shifting of her body. Minerva caught sight of that bandaged left hand. The right however was fishing for something. “You… you left me a letter.” The shark swallowed as she saw the rabbit hold the folded piece of paper. Time and care worn.

Then they both spoke up at the same time. “I don’t even know why I’m here.” It was nearly in stereo. Their heads both bowed forward as soft laughter bubbled from them. And then they leaned back into each other, resting their heads back on each other's shoulders.

“So… what, you’re a cop?” the shark asked. Her heavy surfer speak vanishing quietly into the young woman who the world had interrupted.

“I’m… I’m an intelligence analyst for the CIA. You’re a super villain?” the married rabbit replied. The letter clutched to her belly, like a protective ward.

“Yeah. I’m a Korps Agent. Codename High-Tide. I-... Minerva Knox-Trudeau really is my name. I- died. Officially. I’m totes still alive I mean. I’m not a vampire or anything.”

The two of them sat there back to back in silence. The mournful wail of a ship's horn punctuated the fog dappled sunset. “You left because you were going to become a villain, didn’t you?” Minerva’s breath fluttered out through her gill slits. There was no denying that truth. Her head dipped in a nod. “I was going to have to leave for work too.” The lapine finished with a forlorn cant.

“We can’t live in both worlds, yo. I can’t go straight. I’ve got a body count. I had one back then too.” the rabbit swallowed as she listened to the shark’s words. “So we are stuck here right now. Cause I’m not High-Tide right now, and you're not an analyst.” That bandaged hand slid over onto the shark’s own.

“She said I wasn’t ready, your… handler?” Abi’s voice was curious.

“Number 17.” Minerva answered, her hand turning over under Abi’s, lacing fingers with the lapine. “She’s basically my handler, yeah.”

Abi’s fingers tightened with the shark’s in response. “What did she mean?” her nose twitched curiously. Head tilting to the side touching her head to Minerva’s own. She could feel the shark tense ever so slightly, and then Minerva’s words came out in an echo of what she knew Tzadik had meant.

“You aren’t ready to take the life you want yet.”


30 - Aug - 2019
Impact



The keyboard under her fingers was satisfying. It sang with a mechanical clack each time her fingers danced upon it. The satellite imagery before her eyes was astoundingly clear. It improved every single day it almost seemed. Nothing like it had been when she first started. She worked her mouse around and adjusted the zoom before her. Grid references were noted, shapes on the map were studied. They could be just shipping trucks, or they could be what the department was after. The file was earmarked for further review, and then it was onto the next. Her eyes squinched shut and she drew in a breath. Her back throbbed with an ache, as did her leg. To say nothing of her left hand. It was long since healed, and yet that scar was still visible. The fur refused to grow back its original colour.

With a sigh she pushed her chair back from her desk. She reached for the ceiling as she stretched. Her suit coat was slung up and over her shoulders. A sharp exhale of breath sent her bangs fluttering, she needed coffee. She flashed a grin to the rest of her team as she jerked her thumb towards the door. “I’m walking over to Casey’s, does anyone need anything?” Her feet backpedalled her towards the door while the question was asked. A chorus of various no’s and thank you’s reached her tall ears. The sound of her shoes barked out in staccato rhythm across the marble floor as she left the side office and headed towards the front door that would lead her out into the DC afternoon. Part of her did wish she could be back over in Langley, or better yet, assigned back to the West Coast. Of course being assigned to the Department of State to help with embassy intelligence analysis was a good gig. The doors opened before her out into Foggy Bottom. The sound of insects sang out as her face was lambasted by the humid heat of the late summer afternoon. The drone of cicadas thrummed in her ears with each step she took heading north on 23rd.

Abi had been watched for a long time without her knowledge. Not just by one group of criminals, but by a pair of them. It was only recently that both groups had moved from what could have been considered passive surveillance towards active intervention. The Lapine’s ears twitched; she could hear the sound of the squealing tires as they came around the corner. In that moment of stillness, it was almost a preternatural sixth sense that screamed through every fibre of her being. Every note that the Cicadas sang out became clear. The laughter of children having been on a tour of DC. The smell from the Chinese place on the corner up ahead, The Magic Gourd. Her heart began to hammer in her chest as somehow above the sound of traffic she heard the door of the van slide open.

The green of her eyes glistened in the afternoon sun. Her pupils dilated despite the brightness of the day. The sight of those barrels being brought up and levelled with her cemented that strange stillness and certainty in her mind. This was the moment where everything would be weighed in the balance. Who was it? Her brain raced faster than the world whirling around her. It could have been any number of dissident groups, or even a foreign government. She was operating out of the Department of State. The brief glimpse of them did allow her to narrow it down to Russians. Whether it was FSB or Mobsters? That she could not say. Her body primed itself for the impacting hail of bullets that was going to come for her.

The lead triggerman, her brain danced from one point of knowledge to another, she was an analyst, she was good at her job even in this moment. His height, weight, cologne, favoured brand of papirusas, the memories all played across her neurons. Sergei Nikoleivich Sirayenko, near permanent halitosis, a preponderance of slow wit, a distinct distaste for shellfish. Considers himself to be a conversationalist and can’t string two sentences about the current weather together. Loyal to his masters in both the FSB and Izmaylovskaya Gang. No clarity there on who it actually was that gave the order. Her lips twitched up in a bemused smile. There was no time left for regrets, even if there were still a few lingering ones.

Her body convulsed. The impact with the ground near her had been a shuddering thing that caused the cement of the sidewalk to buckle and then ripple outward under her feet. Every movement of the sharks was fluid grace in all its brutality. The swing of the tail that cleared the remaining civilians from the target area. They may be battered, but better that then peppered with live rounds. The hammer landed with a resounding thud upon the buckled concrete beside her. Both of Minerva’s arms swept right around her. The gravity distortion enveloped her with that embrace. She felt light, and not simply from the giddiness in her chest. The embrace was crushingly tight. Another sensation thudded into place. The bullets were bending around her and the shark before slamming into the brick wall behind her. The shark had dropped between the guns and herself. Recruiter Seventeen's words haunted her again.

In her mind's eye she could clearly see the suited opossum kneeling beside her. “Abigail Thompson, you are not yet ready to follow her. You will be, and when you are, you know I will be watching.” her paw ached with the remembered sensation of the knife sliding out through her bone and flesh.

The memory of that encounter caused her spine to shudder. The sound of gunfire ceased with the rattling slam of that sliding door closing. It felt as if the only sound on that street was the sound of the engine as the van sped away down the street, that, and the quiet thrum of those gravity manipulators of the sharks. Distantly the sounds of sirens were whining up, undoubtedly they would be heading in this direction. Abi knew the shark couldn’t be here when they arrived. The shark clearly knew it too by the look in her eyes. Abi could feel her own mind firing back up in that moment. This was a critical inflection point. Could she just leave everything? Right now?

Her work, her marriage, her car, her wardrobe. Her apartment? Her co-workers? Her whole life that she’d led up to this point. This point where it all should have ended. She looked up at her lover and saw the face of the girl she’d known when she had been but a girl herself. The face didn’t betray a day. No, that wasn’t true. Those eyes trained to be observant and notice, caught the years where they couldn’t hide. The years were there. They were there in the eyes.

Abi’s fingers curled around Min’s hand. “This is my life now. Let’s go.”

30 - Aug - 2019 - Night
Aftermath



The interior of KMS was similar to the surface city above. Thoroughfares, buildings, infrastructure. People go about their lives participating in a society similar but inherently different from the world above them. The thoroughfares weren’t designed with cars in mind, but rather trams to ferry people where they needed to go. Bicycle and walking paths flanking the mass transit system. The buildings themselves hewn beautifully from the sediment and rock beneath the surface. Lighting in the ceiling mimicked the light of day and the stars of night above. Slowly that wheel of simulated starlight turned outside the window.

The shark could feel the rabbit’s fingers twining with her own. They were together, naked, the cool of the sheets cloying to their bare forms. There was a soft rustle in the dark, and then Min felt her. The familiar warmth of Abigail, remembered from ages past, tucked to her. “So she’s always there with you? In your head? You’ve never been alone since that night?” Min’s throat clenched as her gill slits fluttered with her breath. There was a brief worry that flashed through her brain. The woman in question who lived in her head soothed that wrinkle of thought.

‘Tonal analysis doesn’t show any jealousy, in fact it doesn’t show anything beyond curiosity and concern. She can tell you’re worried though.’ Thala was still dressed in her ‘work’ clothes, though her tie was loose around her neck. The simulated sister looked to be in her late thirties now. She’d aged up for every year that she existed in Minerva’s head. ‘I’ll still be here, you’re allowed to have a life outside of me Min. It’s healthy to do so. I’m a grown woman now, and now- now you have someone who chose you. You have a chance to move on. It’s time.’

“She’s here right now, talking to you, isn’t she?” The rabbit’s fingers touched just beneath Minerva’s throat, at her collar, letting her feel the warmth of that touch. Her voice was soft. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere, tell her I look forward to meeting her. She’s taken such good care of you for so long.” Her voice was soft, a gentle thing in the dark.

Minerva could feel the tears coming, and Thala was doing nothing to stop them. Years of tears held back coursed down her cheeks from her eyes, gentle sobs started to wrack her body. Beneath them though, was burgeoning joy. Her laughter bubbled up through those tears. The shark’s hands went right to the rabbit’s cheeks. She stroked through the fur with a desperate need to make sure the woman with her was real. That this wasn’t another trick of her mind, A delusion showing her something she wanted to believe. Her eyes frantically searched over that face, and found only a smile waiting for her.

The lop pressed her hands to the shark’s shoulders, her body shifted, those powerful legs pushed, and rolled her right atop the muscular shark girl beneath her. Light danced through the window, the gentle glow played across the down fur of the rabbit. It left her silhouetted as she bent forward, green eyes gazed down into those tear stained emeralds and looked over the trails that marred the shark's cheeks. Her voice started to croon out into the dark. “Lying beside you, here in the dark, feeling your heartbeat with mine. Softly you whisper, you’re so sincere, how could our love be so blind? We sailed on together, we drifted apart, and here you are by my side!”

It took a moment for Minerva to latch onto the notes, and for the lyrics to dance through her mind. Every worry was banished, this woman who was as much a nerd as she was; who was so brilliant; she was comforting her in a way that she understood completely. “So now I come to you, with open arms! Nothing to hide, believe what I say-” the two voices twined into harmony, as they both exiled every ounce of sadness together. “-So here I am, with open arms, hoping you’ll see, what your love means to me, open arms!”

The Lapine allowed herself to slip, her body dropped back down right atop Minerva’s own, breast to breast. Her voice took the next stanza freely. “Living without you, living alone. This empty house seems so cold, wanting to hold you, wanting you near. How much I wanted you home.” Without missing a beat, the shark’s voice took its place to work in concert. Her hands worked their way up to Abi’s shoulder blades, holding fast “But now that you’ve come back, turned night into day, I need you to stay.”

Their lips touched together. The final round of the chorus may not have been given voice in the night, but it certainly was felt by both the rabbit and the shark. To say that they were quiet would be an outright lie. There were hours that they needed to wile away. There was nothing so pressing on either schedule that they would need to be up for in the morning.

After the second round of sex that evening, even after everything that had happened earlier in the day. Abigail Thompson made the well founded and concrete decision to get herself some of whatever supplements the shark happened to be taking. That was not the only thought to drift through the rabbit’s mind. Her brain never did seem to tune out or drift to idle. A more observant organisation than the Central Intelligence Agency of the United States Government may have thought to have her tested for abilities, however, she had worked for the CIA.

“Minerva?” She began. “If I get knocked up, will it be with Shunnies or Barks?”

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