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Warp Token 2 Update
🕑 Added 2025-08-18 02:53:43 +0000 UTC2k words. Sorry for lack of updates, been hooked on Nightreign and Elden Ring. Will make up for it this week.
***
“Good. We’ll convene tomorrow morning to discuss finer details. For now, return to your posts, we’ve taken long enough as it is. And remember,” he warned. “None of this leaves this cabin. Any of this leaks to one of the compromised, a mutiny would be the least of our worries.”
-xXx-
Roderick brought his blade to the piece of fish, filleting the pink meat into thin slices, then placing each upon a scale. Once weighed, he’d toss them into the bucket next to his station, and one of the servants would come replace it with an empty one, and the cycle would continue until there were enough ration packs for the hungry crew.
Some might call the task menial, perhaps beneath the wayward knight, who had once commanded armies against the forces arrayed against the Empire, but Roderick sought enjoyment in the simplicity. Preparing food was far less dangerous than swinging swords under gunfire, and it helped to keep his mind from the troubling warnings Wilfred had given him earlier that day.
He wondered if anyone else on the ship was experiencing the same thing, or if the staff was targeting Roderick specifically, just because he had made physical contact with it. Skyseeker had been there with him when he’d claimed it, did she have any such troubles of her own? No, she was Skaven, a product of Chaos, dark magics wouldn’t have an effect on her. Maybe she was partly responsible for this darker influence seeping into his thoughts, they had practically never left each other’s sides since the day they’d met….
He shook his head to dispel the train of thought. No, his relationship with Skyseeker was as far from wrong as possible, of that he had no doubt.
“Get paws of me, man-thing! My BOYFRIEND is the cook, I can have you poisoned to death, so let Skaven pass!”
Roderick turned his head, his lips curling into a smile as he heard her signature high-pitched voice. At the far side of the kitchen was a guard posted by the entrance – there to deter any would-be thieves – but he seemed unwilling to challenge the Skaven’s audacity. She had, after all, forced her way into the kitchen’s practically every evening, with a mix of threats and begs, and the guard knew it was better to just let her have her way.
She strode across the cabin towards him on her athletic legs, Roderick taking a moment to appreciate her. Standing at just under chest-height, the rat woman was a tiny thing, but that didn’t’ mean she was weak. Years of living under the harsh conditions of Skavenblight had turned her into a dexterous creature, her light build comparable to a swimmer, her toned muscles bundled tight beneath her midnight fur, all wound up and ready to spring at any second. Aside from a tight set of underwear on her waist, the leather bandoliers strapped across her chest, and the tattered dark cloak hanging over her shoulders, she was practically naked, her rounded thighs and flat belly exposed to any onlookers, and yet she didn’t carry a hint of self-consciousness about her.
Her long face was akin to most common rodents, but Skyseeker was far less brutish than her male Skaven counterparts. Her fur was fuzzy and combed back in a luscious wave and the only coloured parts of her were her red eyes, her button nose, and the pink flaps of her large ears. Most human detested the sight of her, but after their journey through Tilea, Roderick had come to see her in a new light, and her differences were more exotic than off-putting.
“Hey Rick-rod,” Skyseeker chimed, reaching in for a cuddle once she was in range.
“Hello, lass,” he replied. “What brings you here?”
“Boredom, hunger,” she replied.
“The usual, then? Can’t give you any of this I’m afraid,” he said, laying down another piece of fish. “Cooks are very meticulous in how many cuts I do, so you’ll have to wait until it’s all packed. Hang on a moment,” he added. “I heard Von Kessel assigned you duties. What were they?”
“Oh, don’t even get me started!” Skyseeker snapped. “Kessel-man wanted Skaven to, get this… CLEAN. As if Skaven, saviour of boat and all man-things here, could be reduced to slavery! Oh, but I showed him, yes-yes…”
“And you’re done already?” he asked. “That was fast.”
“Fast is my middle name! Paid off two sailor-men who weren’t doing things, got ship clean as a whisker, then had some flour and a nap. Day of production, if I say so myself-self.”
“Wait, wait,” he said, raising a hand. “What was that? You paid someone else to clean for you?”
“Two someone else’s,” Skyseeker corrected, holding up three fingers. “And they did acceptable job.”
“How much did they ask for?”
“Let’s just say that Skaven won’t be visiting any man-thing markets anytime soon. Not that you ever barter-deal with anything worthy of attention.”
“I’m surprised they were willing to do your work for you,” Roderick mused. “but if the job’s done, it’s done.”
“That’s what I said! But nooo, Kessel-man got angry-mad. ‘I will Not sTaND fOr ThIS, RodENT’,” she mimed, putting on a bad accent as she impersonated him. “And all I did was tell him he should pay man-things more if he wanted loyalty.”
“You should mind what you say to him, lass,” Roderick chided, slicing another fillet. “This is Kessel’s ship, and these are his men, they came a long way to transport us out of Tilea and Araby. Antagonizing him won’t do you any favours.”
“And let some filthy, feather-wearing, sun-drinking, carrot-topped ginger talk down on Skaven? I think not,” she scoffed, folding her arms pointedly.
“I know that etiquette doesn’t exist in your vocabulary, but whether you like Kessel or not, the fact he’s Captain doesn’t change. We’d still be stuck in that desert if not for him. Showing even little appreciation for his efforts is the least we could do, and it can go a long way.”
“YAWN!” Skyseeker replied sarcastically. He gave her a serious look, and she rolled her eyes. “Urgh, fine, you making a point. But mark my chitter-speak – as soon as this whole boat thing is over, all bets are off.”
“I had no doubt of that,” Roderick said.
“So… what time you getting off?” she pressed, leaning on the corner of the bench. His eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the way the flesh off her thigh spilled over its surface. As taut as she was built, he knew from experience she was soft where it counted.
“I just need to finish off this last batch,” he answered. “Shouldn’t take long, an hour at most.”
“That’s forever away!” she complained. “It’s been long day, and a Skaven needs her daily bunk-snuggles.”
“A long day of letting others do your work,” he corrected, smirking down at her. “I don’t have the luxury of help down here.”
“Let me change that,” Skyseeker quipped, making room for herself as she stood beside him. Her snout just barely rose above the level of the bench.
“You want to help?” he asked.
“Anything for my man-thing,” she replied, but Roderick wasn’t asking about that. If anyone learned that a Skaven had helped prepare their food, the crew would refuse to eat. Still, he knew she wasn’t a flee-ridden ball of fur like the rest of Skavenkind, and the extra help would speed things along.
He peeked back at the posted guard, he looked too drowsy to pay the Skaven much mind anymore. “Very well,” he conceded, laying out another fish. “Wash your hands in that basin first.”
She reluctantly did as he asked. “Watch closely,” he continued. “Fish have a lot of little bones inside them, and we need to take them all out.”
He demonstrated removing the spine from a pink slab of meat, Skyseeker’s snout hovering an inch away as she observed. He tossed the spiky bones into a nearby waste bucket, but Skyseeker caught it mid-air and swallowed it down in one go. “What?” she asked when he widened his eyes at her. “Marrow is very nutritional. Can’t believe man-things don’t eat bones.”
“This is what I love about you, Sky,” Roderick said. “You never cease to surprise me.”
“R-Rick-rod…!” she whined, pushing her paws into her cheeks, as though she was blushing beneath her fur. For all her bluster, sometimes it only took a few words to make her melt. “You say strangest things at strangest times…”
“And that’s coming from you,” he chuckled. “You msut be rubbing off on me. Come,” he said, placing a fresh fish down. “You have a go. Let me find you a knife.”
“No needing,” she prompted, and held her weeping dagger aloft, as though it was Ghal Maraz itself. “Skaven brought her own tools, yes-yes…”
“Wait, lass! You’re going-”
Skyseeker brought her knife down. The corrosive edge sliced through the meat, the cutting board beneath it, the counter beneath that, and one of the table legs. Roderick seized the counter before it spilled over, Skyseeker squeaking in surprise as she quickly sheathed the blade back in its scabbard.
“Sorry!” she chirped, looking up at him sheepishly, Roderick frowning down at her.
“Please keep that thing away before you destroy the entire cabin. Hand me that bucket. No, the big one.”
He was able to balance the broken leg stump on a bucket, so the entire counter didn’t collapse. This was going to take some explaining when the cook next came round…
“Let’s try this again,” Roderick said. “but this time, with human utensils.”
He placed a knife in her paw, Skyseeker giving it a few practice swings and jabs, perfectly pitched at neck-level on a Skaven. “This is worst dagger I’ve ever held,” she said. “Couldn’t stab anything with this.”
“That’s because it’s a filleting knife, not a dagger,” he said. “Now, try to not destroy this one,” he said, putting the corroded fish in the waste bucket. It was glowing a strange shade of green where her weeping blade had parted it. The smell of burned meat filled the little kitchen.
Skyseeker took her blade in her left hand, and gripped the slice of fish with her right. She began to cut it in a sawing motion, trying to replicate his earlier movements, chittering under her breath when the blade caught.
“Like this,” he said, leaning over her. She was so short that he could reach over her head with room to spare, taking her soft paws into his hands. He angled her knife, then encouraged her to press deeper. He moved her other paw on top of the fish, steadying her movements. Her paws were so small that he could cover them with his palm, her flesh a milky pink colour that wasn’t so dissimilar from a human’s. “Go along the spine, don’t force the blade, let it glide along. Very good, you’re getting it.”
The oil from the fish quickly made their fingers sticky to the touch. Her fur ended at her wrists,, some of the residue getting on her dark coat. He’d have to make sure to wash the fillets thoroughly in case of any stray hairs.
“Skaven sometimes forgets how… big Rick-rod is,” Skyseeker muttered, lifting her head to peer up at him. Her long whiskers tickled his chest through his shirt.
“Am I big, or are you just small?” he asked with a grin.
“I’m average height for a breeder!” Skyseeker shot back. “And being small has advantages, n-not that I am small…”
He turned her paw over and held it in a fist, demonstrating their size difference without a word. She had claws, which were more like overgrown nails on a closer inspection, but they never seemed to get her way. Despite a life of swinging daggers, her paws were soft, not calloused like his, just malleable enough that they gave very little resistance when he squeezed.
“Your paws are so warm,” Skyseeker muttered, letting his fingers link with hers for a moment.
“Hands,” he corrected.
“Paws!”
“We’re not having this conversation again.”
“Yes we are.”
“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” he insisted with a chuckle. “And we’re getting distracted.”
He guided her hands for a while longer, then relented when she got her technique down. He set up another fish beside hers, but the Skaven did not make room for him, keeping her feet planted on the deck. He was forced to lean over her as he worked on the next batch, which he had a sneaking suspicion was on purpose. He’d have to be truly dense to think that the way her lithe body pushed against his chest was anything but deliberate.
Two pairs of hands (paws) got the work done a lot faster once Skyseeker was shown what to do, and they steadily worked down the batch of fish into edible pieces. When they sliced apart the last fish, Skyseeker threw up her arms in celebration.
“Finally!” she cheered. “That was last fish, correct?”
“Sure was, lass,” he replied. “The cooks will have their batch delivered early tonight.”
“Now how about that snuggle?” Skyseeker suggested, flashing him a coy grin. He felt her scaly tail bat at his legs as it waved in excitement, the rat woman lifting her head to look him in the eyes. “Skaven needs it for job well done…”
“That would make it your first one today, right?” he teased.
“Shut up and kiss Skaven already! Been waiting all day to get paws on you-you.”
She placed her knife down, laying her paws to either side of his face, having to stand on her toes to reach. She ran her fingers through his hair, then guided him down, Roderick bending over as she lifted her snout. Their distance meant that she had to crane her neck an awfully long way back, her neck practically facing the ceiling, but she didn’t utter a shred of complaint.
Her snout hovered beneath him, upside-down from his perspective, Roderick glancing her parting lips with his. Her soft, furry snout touched his as he gave her a tentative peck, her small nose touching his chin. He’d only planned for a quick peck, making to pull away, but Skyseeker wasn’t having any of that. Her grip on his cheeks tightened, and she pulled him into her, her pillowing lips parting in a silent request for more.
He obliged, his tongue slipping into her mouth. She had two large incisors at the front of her jaws, but beyond them was the textured flesh of her throat, longer and narrower than a human’s. Her silky tongue coiled against his own, a soft moan of encouragement translating from her mouth to his.
Skaven did not kiss each other, but they had practiced it enough times that her initial clumsiness had all but vanished, and her practiced strokes hit him in all the right places, tingles of pleasure washing down his spine as their bawdy kiss continued for a few moments more. He felt her winding tail coil around his leg possessively.
He broke off for breath, opening his eyes to see his vision filled with her ruby-red eyes peering at him from beneath her cowl. Most men feared the beady, predatory gaze of a Skaven, but the cause of her intensity was of a far different variety.
