Trans Pat (Possum/Rat) Girl that loves tabletop games and making things with my hands. I ran out of spoons like, 3 years ago and haven't gotten any back since. Learning how to properly girl, please be patient. I sometime post 18+ content.
Plural, but still She/Her pronouns please.
Hana, Aibou, Rose, Loop
∍⧽⧼∊
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You can find me on PokefarmQ at this link!

https://pfq.link/TarotCard2

Creator of Cohost Radio! Tune in at the tag!


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www.tumblr.com/tarotcard2
warframe username (Friend me!)
TarotCard2#320
Neocities website( this links to the site profile.
neocities.org/site/tarotcard2

Shorkgirl
@Shorkgirl
“You were expecting perhaps a dragon in a visor sitting across from you at this meeting?” The Opossum slowly stirred the Cappuccino in front of her, before dipping one of the biscuits in it. “I am afraid that there is greater diversity in our organization than the media likes to give us credit for.” Her English was flawless. Even if slightly terse with the hint of German tinging it that time had not been able to banish from her tone. Across from her was the towering form of a California Grizzly. One who presently was studying her from beneath a heavy brow. The massive paws of the seven foot four ursine were wrapped around a mug of cocoa. One that did have a hint of chili powder to it, if the scent was any tell.

The Opossum by comparison did not wear her strength on her sleeve. She was over five feet. That was clear, but records of her details always just seemed to disappear, there was no lodged power set of record, no height, no weight. There were just enough details on file to piece together a mysterious and tragic background that would do a pulp novelist proud.

“I am afraid that you will have to make do with a representative of the Highly Efficient Aggregation Directorate instead. Though if you wanted to deal with the swarm instead it certainly can be arranged, Luisa.” The brown paper of a kretek cigarette was brought to her mouth, the filter resting against her lower lip, the familiar metal tink of a zippo clacking open, heralded its imminent ignition.

The Ursine’s eyes narrowed. Not that the bear would begrudge the woman her cigarette. The smoke never bothered her anyway. It was more the casual use of her actual name instead of her call sign. After all they both existed in the world of supers, rather than the one of civilians. It was that and the air of casual confidence the Opossum had about her. Where was her nervousness? Where was the fear that was usually inspired by that towering frame and musculature the bear possessed. The bear brought the cocoa up to her lips and sipped. The capsaicin from the cayenne in the chili powder tingled on her lips. Distantly she could hear Hechos lunchtime broadcast on Azteca Uno coming from the television in the cafe. Her eyes slowly moved to the Opossum's own. “No.” she replied to the offer of meeting the swarm.

“What I want to know, chairo, is why you’re helping me, eh? I’m BASB. You got my family out of California. Safe in San Felipe, but why holmes?” The Ursine was genuinely curious. The CDCR knew where she was, she had permission to be here, the anklet weighed heavily around her foot. Distantly, the recognition that the CDCR had no leverage on her hung in her mind, and the BASB didn’t have legal jurisdiction here, so she didn’t have to go back. “There’s no such thing as charity in this world, guey.”

The cherry at the end of the cigarette flared bright, the oil in the clove crackled with the draw, the smoke slowly exhaled through the Opossum’s nostrils. “You are right, and while there is no immediate expectation of a favor owed, or even an expectation of it ever being paid. Good will is something that is built over time, and I consider it an investment. If my organization was unable to arrange the disappearance and relocation of one family from California to Baja California, we would not be worthy of our name of K-HEAD.” The middle aged woman in the almost dowdy non-descript suit allowed a cheshire smile onto her features. “Now Bubellah-” meeting slang for slang with her own Yiddish. “I am not going to ask you to join our side, not right now.” Her irises danced as the cybernetics focussed on Controlled Burn’s microexpressions at those words. “Someday I might. Once you have that oh so fashionable anklet removed. I could do it for you, Hashem knows I could. But-” she leveled that cigarette at the Ursine’s gaze. “You’re still a bit of a meshuggeneh, crazy, you don’t have you sorted out yet. Aside from the fact that you would tell me no.”

Luisa sat stunned. They had relocated her family as if it were nothing. Not even the CDCR could accomplish that. Not even the BASB could have done that without making waves. But what did this cabrón mean, calling her crazy! Just because she wasn’t going to jump ship yet. Just because she was going to head back to the BASB- she couldn’t leave the good ones alone with those assholes on the team, she needed to make sure that gloryhounding poodle bitch and the evangelical ass-cat didn’t get out of control. Her jaw tightened as she saw the amused expression on the opossum's face. “Como se llamas, guey?”

The Opossum smiled broadly at that. “You may call me Recruiter 17. Don’t worry about your family, I had my people talk to your old, larger Mishpacha, tu familia, they will make sure neither the BASB, nor my people, try to use them for leverage, mmm? Now I’m sure your compatriots in the BASB, and your minders in the Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, are curious about what you’re up to while down here, sadly for them I think they’ll find that there’s not much evidence of you doing anything besides enjoying time with your Bubbe and Zayde. Nicht wahr?”

Recruiter 17 rose to her feet, stretching languidly. “I think I will enjoy a barefoot walk on the beach before I head home. You think about your future, and sort out your head Controlled Burn. Then I will find you again. Finding things is what I do.” She slid a business card across the table towards Luisa. It was a simple affair. Simple black gloss embossed lettering over a matte white card. Understated, like almost everything else about the woman who was leaving her in that cafe in San Felipe.

“Oye Chairo! You think you and your crew can really change the world, guey?” The grizzly called after her. Recruiter 17, paused in the doorway, and simply grinned the most predatory smile that Luisa had ever seen on a rodent’s face.

“Narishkeit bubbeleh, we already have.”


Artwork by @RoxannaRachnid


dvs-online
@dvs-online

The programming day is over, and y'all kicked ass again, sitting at almost ÂŁ2700 as I type this. Wouldn't it be neat if we broke our ÂŁ3k goal overnight. bats eyelashes

Tomorrow you can look forward to villainous prose, audacious art, lesbians who are sword-thirsty and so much more. See you then~


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