susan-gampre

[susan-gampre]

"Beauty is to simply be."

- wisened words from one whore to another.

[susan-gampre]

War and Combat Centric Asks

♦ - What does fighting mean to your muse, and how different are they during battle?

♢ - What abilities does your muse possess that makes them an effective fighter?

♠ - What is your muse’s weapon of choice? Is it magical or mundane in nature?

♤ - Given a chance to learn and use a combat ability or magic they don’t possess, what would your muse choose?

♣ - Is your muse particularly merciless or do they leave their opponents relatively whole after a fight? Why?

♧ - Does your muse have any regrets about a battle or incident they had to fight in? Has it changed them?

♥ - Is there an opponent they’ve fought they’ve grown particularly attached to, love or hate?

♡ - If your muse were rendered unable to fight, what about them would change? Would they be able to handle it?

☊ - Give a list or description of particularly notable battles in your muse’s history. Do any stand out?

☋ - Does your muse believe in the ‘brothers and sisters of battle’ concept, growing close to their fellows, or are they distant from others?

⇖ - Is your muse attached to any particular weapon or piece of equipment they own?

⇘ - Has your muse ever used a combat vehicle or siege weapon in battle? Were they enthusiastic about it?

✓ - Has your muse ever lost anyone they cared about on the battlefield? Do they feel responsible?

✗ - Has your muse ever been a victim of friendly fire or been betrayed during a fight? How did they react?

☌ - Is your muse famous or infamous in their world for a battle or fight? Do they embrace or shy away from it?

☍ - Does your muse draw any inspirations for their combat style or spells from their past or the world they live in?

⇈ - Does your muse knowingly or unknowingly draw on any kind of power when they fight? Describe it?

⇊ - Does your muse have many scars or lasting effects from a battle? If not, do they keep any trophies or reminders?

⌤ - Is your muse uncomfortable outside of combat? Do they have problems socializing or relaxing?

™ - Do any inspirations for how your muse fights come from other media? List or describe them.

☎ - Describe your muse in RPG class or archetype terms. Do you actively push for them to be like this, or is it just a comparison point?

↫ - Is there a real life martial art or fighting style that you draw heavily on for your character?

▶ - Do you have trouble writing your muse getting injured or hurting others? Describe what process you use to deal with it.

[susan-gampre]

By: ni-taf

[susan-gampre]

[susan-gampre]

[susan-gampre]

[susan-gampre]

CASSIE AMATO. photographed by Valerie Vogt Bauer.

[susan-gampre]

"I wasn't born with innate manners or tolerance. If you go low? I'll drag us both down even further, bitch."

An undoubtedly final warning from the Madam.

[susan-gampre]

💋 SUCCULENT TART PRESENTS: 💋

The Succulent Tart’s After Dark is happening on the 12th of April! This is our annual 18+ event, so get ready for our Tarts to show some extra skin! 💋 Immediately following the performances, we will be hosting a dance party!

Due to the more risque nature of our performances, an OoC Age of Consent form is required to be signed by all guests who attend. There are no exceptions! Please be sure to sign up on the character you are going to be attending with! You and your character must be 18+ to attend.

Link To Form => HERE!

WHEN: April 12th, 2025 (Saturday) WHERE: World’s End Tavern, Shattrath City (Lower City) TIMES: Doors open at 6pm WRA (8pm MG) Performance starts at 6:30pm WRA (8:30pm MG) This is a Wyrmrest Accord hosted event! Cross-faction / cross-server friendly! ANCHORS: TBD! You can also join our community and request an invite! COMMUNITY LINK!

We advise coming earlier to have your name checked off the consent form if you’ve signed in advance. You can sign at the door, but it’s better to do so before the event! Click the link provided above for the Age of Consent form!

Extra Information! Check out the Succulent Tart website for information on performers, events, bar menu & more! You can also find links to our discord & tumblr (may not be updated w/menu & performers until closer to the event)! https://succulenttart.crd.co/# Join our Discord => HERE!

[susan-gampre]

➹➹➹ - Castellan

The evening had been particularly precarious. The hour was well past midnight, and the crowd was only getting further boisterous as it drew on -- The drinks had slowed down, bartenders having made the decision to cease the flow of drinks to prevent an already rowdy crowd for getting down right violent. The guards had responded to the rise in emotion of the crowd, drawn in from the outer walls to mingle with patrons, keeping things flowing and preventing minor discrepancies. Whores and entertainers alive had made a fantastic effort at preserving the overall moral.

In the meanwhile Susan watched on with some expression of indifference. It truly was no concern to her, perhaps even abit anticipated. The brothel was functioning as intended without the Madam's intervention. Thus she was left to her thoughts, and she was tits deep into plotting.

~ ...I should hire Rickie to look into those leads, for the sake of saving a trip. Fuck what Jhiy'le thinks, but she's right... No need to risk wasting time if it's another dud ~

Sue brings her mug to her lips, sipping the liquor with a careful tilt of her hand.

~ I could always appoint Keisong temporary Madam. Of anyone in this brothel, she'll keep things held down until my return. ~

She hesitates when realizing if all went according to plan she ran the risk of disappearing before seeing Castellan again. Her chest tightens, lips pressing into a firm line as she lowers her mug considering then.

~ ... surely he would wait, if I was gone-- Maybe I should write, don't wanna risk a missed connection ~

Instantly the Madam felt a swell of some undefined emotion, an incredulous smile curling her lips and head beginning to shake when another realization dawns.

"Fuck," she huffs, "I'm just alil smitten. Lady Light save my fucking soul." This remark is followed by a deep drink from her mug.

@resolutedefender

[susan-gampre]

"Don't get fresh with me" Susan heeded, offering the gunslinger a pointed stare before resuming her efforts in prying his pants off, "Or else gettin' bitten will be the least of your worries."

During this she'd find herself in a moment of assessment of the predicament, almost laughing at the absurdity of it all. Here she was, a proclaimed whore -- notorious one may argue, with a presumed womanizer, forcing him to remain as still as possible whilst she not so ceremoniously struggled with the zipper of his trousers. To an outsider looking in this was just another indecent public affair awaiting to take place in the middle of the Brothel. But to Susan? It was merely appraising the damages of a particularly mouthy cub who'd found Desmond's thigh to be a bit of a chew toy. Literally.

"...Again," she mutters then as she begins to tug at the trousers with as minimal pain as possible, peeling the bloody garment down far enough to expose a rather superficial but notable bite mark, "I am so sorry. These youngsters have a mind of their own."

@the-gunslinger

Ordinary Things Prompt; {unzip)

The gunslinger was known for his belts, his straps, and his buckles given at how many of them were usually fastenedd somewhere on his person. However, a zipper found on him usually was only located at a singular spot. With a sharp inhale of air as anticipation trickled up his spine, those stormy grey eyes glanced downwards to the perfectly manicured, crimson painted nails that continued to gently tug his zipper further and further downwards.

"Careful now, darlin'."

@susan-gampre

[susan-gampre]

The Madam Susan Gampre

Just another quickie (like I haven't been struggling over these last two pieces for months...)! Figured I'd dump it as finished, always time to update it but I'm satisfied with the product for now.

[susan-gampre]

➹

The times have changed; Its been nearly over a decade since her debut as the Madam of the Sisters in Sin... And Susan could recall every failed business deal, every hateful stare from her peers during her socialite years, every word spoken behind her back of her inflated ego and inevitable downfall... These memories only brought the slightest of emotion to her, uplifting in a way. A reminder of where she began compared to where she is now.

~ Rags to riches baby, and it's only up from here ~

"I'll bet they hate to see me thriving, those petty bitches," Susan grins to herself, leaning into the mirror to begin applying her lipstick.

@nixalegos

[susan-gampre]

For every ➹ I get, I'll put up my muse's current thought

The Madam sits in a moment of reflection, her eyes glazed over as she recounts the memories of her siblings. People she hasn't heard much of in nearly a decade, people she never thought she'd ever lose contact with. People once her dearest and only friends, people who were beacons of light in the darkness...

~ Strangers, now... ~

The thought wounded her to consider, emotion stirring and causing her eyes to sting as distress began to settle into her bones. Whiskey wouldn't fix this heart break, tonight.

"Fuckin' assholes," she mutters beneath her breath.

@damien-ward

[susan-gampre]

➹ ➹ ➹

The Madam, in the company of her trusted confidants, has been listening in to their bickering over plans for a future mission. Something Susan has been dead set on happening-- And now the productivity of planning has been dragged to a screeching halt with their filibustering.

~ I swear to the Gods... When did I surround myself with such pessimism? ~

"If anything it's inappropriate for Susan to keep going out there herself. I'm sorry Madam, but we need you here in the Brothel conducting business and putting order to this business!"

The Madam made no sound, her eyes moving from being to being as they fought further-- Some agreeing, some defending Susan for her motherly right to want to be out in the fields searching for her daughter first hand.

~ Maybe I'll just outsource this job, disappear one night with a crew of my own... ~

"She'll get herself killed chasing dead ends!"

Instantly Susan's eyes narrow. It seems she has decided.

~ I'll need to find trustworthy souls. Few and far between are such people these days... ~

"Enough," the Madam snaps, free hand lifting to gesture for them to all stop. Instantaneously all eyes move to her. For a moment she'd pause, considering their faces individually before she flicks the butt of her cigarette to discard the ash on the tip of her hand rolled smoke, "I can't listen to this fucking bickering anymore. We'll pick up on it a different date. Just get the fuck out, lets not fret over it further tonight."

@captzexx

[susan-gampre]

➹ - @drunkenworgen

Whilst watching a particularly drunk individual staggering into the woods, she notices something which he fails to... One of Anthrel's oldest cubs -- a tigress who has taken after her father in her snow white furr-- is lounging in the shade of a tree he seems to be dead set on approaching.

~ Huh... That man is getting alittle too close for comfort to Estrella. I wonder if he knows about the twenty feet rule--? ~

She baulks when he unzips his pants and starts pissing into the shade. She shoots upright at the blood curdling scream and ferocious wild cat snarl.

"Hey! Estrella, no! For fuck's sake, maiming is not the first reaction we should have!"

@major-gilneass

[susan-gampre]

"What's your favorite position?" Castellan inquired, as casually as possible, over a glass of wine in her office.

Warning: Highly suggestive content ~

@resolutedefender

Oh? Oh.

The Madam pauses in her sipping, a menacing glint to her bright golden eyes as she peers at the Knight over the top of her wineglass. She could tell from this glance alone he was completely serious with this prompt. The faintest of smirks tugs the corner of her mouth, mostly hidden by the deep drink she'd conduct before setting the cup down, features neutral after this moment.

He would know the consequences of his actions, soon enough.

With a clearing of her throat, a comical gesture as she brings a hand up to gently tap against her sternum, the Madam seems to prepare herself. Quietly then she leans herself back into her chosen seat of the hour, a winged backed chair -- a statement piece of grandeur with it's upholstery fabric being a multi-media of both the hide and leather of a grizzly bear. Her arms remain perched atop the chair's designated leather armrests, long legs crossed with her left draped over her right knee, the fabrics of her gown swinging with this motion. With a moment of consideration she rolls her lofted legs ankle, the jewels bedazzling the toe of her heel glittering in the light.

"My favorite position..," she begins, gnawing her bottom lip as she measures Castellan, eyes shamelessly sweeping across his form before drifting toward the fire place -- finding distraction in it's flames or else she might not be able to keep a straight face:

"Doesn't really exist, darling. I'm not shy about trying them all, save some painfully inventive ones. And for a few, I've certainly had my fantasies... Such which are usually stirred whenever I catch the eye of a particularly coquetteish individual," she glances side long toward Castellan then, an impish smile taking place. "But to give you some kind of a answer... I've imagined riding cowgirl there on that desk before," she nods in the direction of her executive desk, "I've imagined... Face sitting on the clover forest floor. Backshots and missionary, in the throws of passion on the main floor of the brothel during the heat of the night. Maybe even a good ole sixty nine. Such shameless actions hidden in plain sight amongst the others giving into their carnal desires... Even something as gentle and precious as spooning position --," she grins, "I've always favored little spoon, at that. Fuck, even doggy style with some aggressive hair pulling."

She sits up then, hands moving to fold atop her knees with a suggestive glint to her eyes, now holding Castellan's gaze directly as she imagined he wouldn't be able to keep his eyes off her, "That whole week we were being foolish, not talking? I'd see you everywhere, like a ghost haunting me. In the stair well, by the banisters, sitting at the bar stools -- And with every sighting it stirred something. Made me... Day dream," she sits back into the chair then, shoulders shrugging as she confesses:

"Which have, each and every time, ended with frustrating sentiments. After all, what are dreams if not cruel coping mechanisms?"