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Post by spender on Jul 29, 2011 15:14:57 GMT -5
Tally blinked up at the sky for a moment or two, then lowered her head to talk to Carrow easier.
"I t'ink I hear Molly," she whispered. She wiped her footpaws on the grass more.
"I can't get der dirt off! It bot'erink me. I vant go back in mein boat. It vill be safe and clean dere. Molly carried me to it."
Spender was having the time of his short little ferret life. The only way it could be any better was if Peskers was there, digging alongside him. Or if he found a chicken to scrap with. Otherwise, his experience was perfect: he'd left his trousers under the coracle.
There was just one problem about tunneling under sand, though...
"Mmmff," the ferret said, realizing that not only was his nose filled with sand, but there wasn't exactly very much air for his mouth to inhale. He was running out of time.
With only one direction to put displaced sand, his exit was blocked, and had been for a few tail lengths. There was no real way to judge how far he'd gone. Was he in the right spot? He had to be. He had no choice now. He had to dig up.
Gradually, the crack along the shore began to widen in a certain spot. Clumps fell away, pushed on by a flaring purple monster and its silvery tentacles. Spender's nose breached the surface. He sucked in one massive breath and with all his energy flung himself through the hole. Arms and paws raised over his head, he immediately aligned himself with the sea and towered over Ocean, shaking himself clean.
"Bwruaghahagraooweoo, I'm the sandbeast, gonna eat yer paws!"
Molly hadn't cried. She was too busy worrying to cry. She alternated between standing and sitting around Ladorak's bedside, staring blankly and pestering the doctor with questions. She had never known a worry like this before. It was not like her. The last time she had felt this strongly about anything at all...
She had been in an alleyway, cradling Blaine's head on her lap. She hadn't cried then, either, not at first. Only when the irony sunk in that he would never wake again did she start to cry—and even then, it was after a good five minutes of hysterical laughing.
This was different.
It was the longest fourty-five minutes of Molly's life.
At one point she had badgered the badger so much he had told her if she wouldn't leave him alone, then, yes, Ladorak would die. Molly had kept her distance for a few minutes, and in that time became aware that Caden and Selvis were there as well.*
"I'm... I'm sorry," she said, addressing them both. "I don't know what to do... I don't know what I was doing. I didn't mean to shout at either of you... Thank you, for being here. Caden..." she gave the marten a little hug. By now her clothes were dry. "You must care for him as much as I do."
Before she could say much else, the doctor had finished.
"So... how do I look?"
Molly held her breath. She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. Then she burst into tears and jolted forward to embrace him.
"You look like a ruddy great idiot, Laddy! Never do this to us again, or I'll put you through worse, do you understand?"
((* Not sure if Warwick would stick around?))
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Post by Carrow on Jul 30, 2011 8:55:33 GMT -5
Truth be told, Caden was right on both counts when he speculated about why Selvis was crying, but he couldn't possibly know how badly Molly's remark had affected the longtail as well. It was a combination of all three. He found it bitterly ironic that he was fatigued yet could scarcely ever sleep - this was the condition he'd met Carrow in after all, though it hadn't been quite as pronounced for the mouse, at least on that occasion.
He had far too much on his mind - in fact, he had done ever since they'd left Bastia - and had been suffering from stress anyway. It was little wonder he'd collapsed and began sobbing as Ladorak's injury had hit home. Caden's talk with him on the Orion had not been the cause of the various states of depression he'd spent the majority of the time since the fleet battle in - it had merely been a catalyst.
He'd have broken down in Florence if only for his ability to hold himself together, something that had diminished considerably since then, and even more so since the Glorious First of June. By the time the badger doctor came out and gave his verdict, the weasel's nerves were frayed. The forty-five minutes they'd spent waiting for an update on Ladorak's condition had been extremely nerve-wracking and upsetting for the mustelid, and if Caden hadn't been there with him there would have been a good chance of Selvis losing it entirely.
It wasn't like him to assume the worst in any situation - an obvious side-effect of his depression - but he'd really needed to have his worst-case scenario theory disproved. Ladorak had been in a state, but the weasel was having trouble looking on the bright side of things anymore. In the end he just stopped thinking about it and moved closer to Caden, needing his company like nothing else in the world and waiting to see how things would pan out.
He was trembling slightly as the mustelid doctor announced what had happened to Ladorak, and once he'd been told what had happened, the sense of relief that ran through him was such that he swayed on his paws, almost ready to faint. It was an intense release for him, and he had to put his arms around Caden to steady himself - something he was then glad that he did, because the brief embrace quite comforting to a creature in his current condition.
He eased himself back into a standing position and wiped his eyes, which were glimmering with unshed tears. "It could have been much worse, yes... and I'll be honest, I thought he'd lost the eye, pretty much. It didn't look good at all from what I saw, but if the doctor says he'll recover then there's a good chance of it. I'm... I'm so relieved." Sniffing, he smiled a little, one of the few occasions recently when he had been able to do so. He nodded at Ladorak. "I admire your resolution, sir. I'm glad you'll still be with us in combat."
Molly had apologised to Selvis as well, the badger doctor had finished before he could respond, so the weasel saved his response until he had a better opportunity to articulate his thoughts, and he did so now. "I... I forgive you, Molly. I'm going to be honest: I've been suffering from... er, confidence issues lately," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "and thought that when you told me to get away from him that you genuinely didn't want my help, as opposed to not needing it.
"That was... rough for me, and I didn't take it well, though you probably didn't notice as you were occupied with your fiancée. I can't bear to think of myself being a hindrance rather than a help. It never really started being an issue for me until recently, but I now know that you didn't mean it in that way at all, which is... reassuring," he admitted, sighing a little. His self-esteem was in the gutter, but he wouldn't admit that to anybeast here. He just didn't feel comfortable with it.
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Post by Ladorak on Jul 30, 2011 17:12:59 GMT -5
"Well I didn't think he'd lost it. There was blood, but it didn't look like anything was hanging out." Caden half-joked. "I just wasn't sure if it'd be so scarred that he'd lose sight in it or not... but blimey... lookit that." He said, pointing at the stoat's right eye. "Not a mark on it, yet he can't see out of it. How do you like that?" He asked, shaking his head.
Ladorak nodded at Selvis, and gave him a smile. "Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world." He stated resolutely. He gasped a little as Molly raced over to embrace him, wrapping her arms tightly about him. His jaw hung open a little, and he simply looked at her, unsure how to take this. Since when had she shown such... strong devotion? Was she really changing? Was she really so deathly worried by all of this? This most certainly wasn't the Molly he remembered from way back when.
"Don't ever... do that again?" he repeated, feeling the sudden flash of intimate warmth he had felt from years and years ago... back when he felt that he was truly in a relationship. Maybe this wasn't just a game anymore. Maybe Molly WAS serious. Maybe... he needed to start getting serious as well, and stop seeing this as all just a game that interested Molly in the moment, and one she would forget about in a year or two. Instead of simply giving her a glib remark, he wrapped his own arms about her, and pat her on the back. "I promise... I'll do my absolute best... so long as it doesn't involve abandoning my duty." he said softly, closing his eyes.
"I'm glad to see you've recovered, Captain Fugate." he opened his eyes, and saw a vaguely familiar face standing in the entrance way of the tent. "Or at least... as best as you could." the stoat focused on the fellow, and saw him to be a marten of some sort.
"I'm sorry... do I know you?" he asked, still holding on to Molly.
"Hmm... we met once... a very long time ago. I hear you used to be quite the blademaster, though that wasn't until after our meeting." he was very tall, and dignified looking, and Ladorak struggled to place him. "At any rate, I'd like you to have something, and depending on how you fare in this upcoming combat, you might like to seek me out. The name Driscoll will probably mean something to you." the stoat raised a brow. That name DID ring a bell, and he felt fairly certain he knew who this was now.
"Here. Keep this. If you'd like to know more... and if you successfully carry this fort, I'd be interested in speaking with you again." he strode through the room, and took Ladorak's limp paw, clasping a small seal in it. "Good luck and... show those Rosferians what's what, eh?" he asked, giving him a wink as he turned and walked out. He had been dressed in simple middle class attire, as far as Ladorak could tell.
Glancing down at the seal that was in his paw, he realized it was the button to a cloak, a clasp that kept the thing together. He recognized the symbol on it immediately, but he wondered how the two were linked. Driscoll wasn't from that country after all... so what exactly was the deal?
Looking up at Molly as he once again enclosed his paw about the seal, he figured he'd contemplate this later. "I'll do the best I can to keep myself alive." he said. "It's partly why I fight so fiercely when I can manage it... because I know I have things to come home to..." He said, giving her a serious look.
Caden spoke up then too. "And you mentioned how I must really care for him, Molly. Well he's all I've got. Without him... I would've had nothing that night. I would've been completely alone." he looked at Ladorak. "Of course I care about him. Without him, I'd be nothing." the albino confessed.
Looking over at Selvis now, Caden frowned. "So... you have confidence issues, huh? Quite the role reversal, Selvis. Usually it's Carrow coming to me with these kinds of things. Anything I can do to help?" he asked, shoving his paws into his pockets. It was with some relief that the marten's pink eyes picked out the "star" still hanging around Ladorak's neck. It was scuffed a bit, but it could be cleaned. Their stars still burned brightly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ocean nearly had a heart attack as the creature came out of the sand. He had forgotten about Spender in the ensuing conversation, and to his hallucinatory mind it looked literally like a creature of the swamp rising out of the depths to devour him. "Gagggh!" he shouted, recoiling in the sand as he threw his paws out in front of him.
His heart flew, and his pulse pounded in his head. Panting rapidly, the ermine's blurry eyes finally focused as he backed away, seeing it was nothing but Spender. "Agggh!" he pounded the sound. "Forgot you were under there, ye jerk." he muttered, throwing some sand in Spender's direction. "Ugggh... maybe... maybe I should try to head back to my tent now... try and sleep a little." he said, holding his head with one paw as he looked over at the Spender-monster. That rush of adrenaline hadn't made him feel good at all, and now he REALLY felt like he should be lying down and resting.
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Post by spender on Jul 30, 2011 20:56:14 GMT -5
"We would all be nothing without him," Molly said sulkily, clinging closer to her Captain, if that were possible. Which it must have been, because she was. "Who else would love me apart from my job, or adopt your mother's child, or even allow Selvis to join his ship? He's our special little Laddy..."
Her voice lowered.
"And he's not thinking about going back there, is he..." She narrowed her eyes at the clasp hidden in his paw. "Because if he is, I'm going with him, and the only reason I would do that, apart from never letting him out of my sight again, is so I can burn the sodding place down."
A fire had ignited already, consuming her from behind her eyes. A wicked grin scratched its way across her muzzle, notch by notch, as though painted by some prisoner's blunted claws. The Old Molly wanted freedom.
She stood, releasing Ladorak, and pried herself from his grasp.
"The Captain is well," she declared. "And there is a saying, where I come from. An eye for an eye. Selvis, pull yourself together. I need you now. Find me that stoat, Norwich. Caden, I would prefer if you stayed with Ladorak. I am going to take one of our cannons, and I am going to shove it where the sun does not belong: in the faces of those wretched Rosferian rumple-rears!"
She spun about, posing for Ladorak with one paw behind her back and her chin jutting out heroically.
"Any objections, Laddy?"
Spender couldn't breathe. He was too busy laughing. He fell to his rear, plopping into the shallows, threw himself backwards fully, and giggled his poor ferret heart out. He was helpless as Ocean's sand got into his face and mouth, and ended up swallowing half of it, as well as a pawful of seawater.
He lolled around, choking and laughing, for a good minute or so before he managed to roll himself onto all four paws and throw up some of the sea he had let inside his stomach.
"Aheehee, ahee... whoo! Shoulda seen yer face... 'ey, where y'goin'?"
He stood up and stared after Ocean, who seemed to be heading away. That wasn't right. Ocean, who gave back double what he got? Some pawful of sand wasn't going to get him back... Something wasn't right.
Spender started after him, then paused to grab his ball that was bobbing around. Then he jogged after Ocean—forgetting as well his trousers, which were hidden from sight under Tally's boat. It felt so wonderful to be free, and wet, and a bit of a breeze had picked up and it didn't even matter he was out in the open under the sunlight; he could keep his tongue inside his mouth, and that was better than anything.
"Ocean? Where y'goin'? Wot, are ye sick?"
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Post by warwick on Jul 31, 2011 5:04:32 GMT -5
Finding himself without an occupation for forty-five minutes, and wanting to keep well clear of Doctor Lester, Warwick had rounded up a group of stalwart sailor volunteers and done the most daring thing they could under enemy artillery fire; held a game of cricket on the beach.
It was a tough match. Warwick was one cruel bowler, definitely his main strength, capable of applying whatever spin he wanted on the little cannonball. His nemesis; a thickset pine marten who had been unanimously voted as captain of the opposing team. Of course there was the odd pause in the game whenever a shell exploded sounded too near, but otherwise their concentration was absolute.
"Seajacks Allens and Waterford at the stumps. Sniff... Damn, they'll give gun-captain Banks a good run for his money," Warwick breathed, his hushed commentary for the benefit of his team, which was slumped under the shade of a nearby tree. The stoat could see his new friends down the beach. He waved a paw, wondering if they would care to join in.
"Ahoy, Spender! Ocean! Er, Jal Apodemus! Care to make up the numbers here... squeak? Only been five for forty for us, four for thirty-six on their side. Come on chaps, give them a paw!" Warwick called joyfully. The sailor beside him tugged at his shirt and whispered something. The stoat nodded understandingly and offered him a boiled sweet. The sailor gratefully sucked on it, whilst the other team on the beach looked on and licked their lips, ruefully regretting their team split.
Banks the pine marten bowled. The red missile whizzed down the 'pitch' and Allens gave it an almighty wack. Obviously the sand would kill any bounce, so it was either underarm or bowl straight for the stumps.
"Six!" a few sailors called as it dropped into the sea. A ferret bounded after it, grateful for the opportunity to dunk himself in the cool waters. Warwick clapped primly, a little smile on his face.
"Bravo! Jolly good, Allens! Well hit!" He announced, though not smugly. The game was about the sportsbeastship after all, not the winning or losing. At least, that's how Warwick understood it to be. Banks might have a different idea of things.
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Post by Carrow on Aug 1, 2011 8:46:05 GMT -5
Selvis shook his head in disbelief, smiling a little despite himself. "That's quite something, I have to admit. It doesn't look like there's anything wrong with his eye at all, so unless other creatures know, or are told, about what happened, they'll be left none the wiser. I'm not sure what's more surprising: that, or the fact his pince-nez wasn't even scratched!," he exclaimed, still smiling. It was quite amusing how things worked out sometimes.
Ladorak's response was heartening as well; it was good to know he wouldn't let this setback get in the way of him doing something that he clearly loved. The weasel watched, with a slightly curious expression on his face, as a rather dignified-looking marten entered the tent, spoke with the stoat Captain for a few moments and then left, leaving Selvis completely nonplussed. All he could say for certain that it was somebeast from Ladorak's past.
He wasn't about to start thinking about that right now anyway. He had plenty of other things on his mind, and Caden's heartfelt response to his stoat guardian made the longtail well up a bit; he had to hastily wipe his eyes lest he should start crying again. He didn't want to make a scene, after all; the first time it had been easier to keep his tears to himself - unknown to him, Caden had noticed - but now it was proving a lot harder.
He sniffled audibly. He was starting to think he'd be nothing himself without Caden. He'd been spending less and less time with Carrow, and the times he was alone he tried to make sense of his emotions, something that often reduced him to tears. At this point, Caden's company was the glue that was keeping him together. He didn't feel the need to say this: Caden probably knew he was out of sorts, but Selvis didn't want to risk embarrassing him by saying he'd be much worse without him, or some such - even if it was true.
Caden looked over at the weasel and frowned slightly before adressing him. Selvis laughed mirthlessly in response to the pine marten's words, sighing a little himself before speaking. "Yeah, it's pretty ironic when you think about it. I was supposed to be the confident one, and Carrow seems to be filling that role now - or at least, he's more confident than ever in his ability to do things.
"Meanwhile, my own self-esteem seems to be diminishing by the day. I know I used to be good at things, but... for the life of me I can't really remember what they are anymore. Hmm... d'you think I'm good at anything, Caden?," he asked softly, scarcely able to believe how far he had fallen in the last six weeks. "I might just... need a reminder or something, I don't know... but I need a paw with things and I'd really like you to help me start to get my confidence back," he told his friend. "It might take a while, but I'd prefer that than..." He gestured to his red-rimmed eyes. "Looking like this half the time..."
He trailed off, at which point Molly cut in with her request. She wanted him to go find Warwick? The mustelid's brow furred in a curious manner, but he didn't question why. Molly didn't look like she was in the mood for questions. "Yes, of course, Jis Serra," he responded quietly, his usual bright outlook obscured by ominous clouds. He addressed Caden again. "Hold the thought, mate, I have to run an errand for Molly. We can talk about this when I get back if you'd like."
Smiling warmly at his marten companion, Selvis padded out of the tent and began his search for the stoat Quarter Gunner.
--
Carrow could tell that Tally was concerned about Molly. The male rodent had picked up that sound too, but for a moment he had been unable to tell what it was. He now knew that it was a kind of distressed cry, but didn't concern himself that much with the stoat jill's condition. From what he'd seen of her - even though that was relatively little - he knew the mustelid was reasonably practical and would try to work this thing out herself, whatever it was.
"She's going to be fine, Tally," he said soothingly, smiling and ruffling her ears fondly as he addressed her. "She's good at working things out on her own, so why should this time be any different? I'm sure that, whatever it is, she's pawdling it in her own way. She's good for that, as said. There's no need for you to worry about her; that just makes me worry about you, and I don't like doing that. I'd much rather see you happy, y'know.
"As for your boat -" Carrow looked out at the shallows and could see Spender currently 'menacing' Ocean - "Spender has it now. I will ask him for it back in a moment. He's getting good use out of it, though - hopefully he'll allow you to have it back. I'll try and get it back for you soon; he might be finished in a bit, who knows?"
Carrow scooped Tally up into his arms and held her there, noticing that Ocean hadn't reacted too well to the ferret's antics, had gotten up and was now heading away from the beach. The field mouse of course did not know that the ermine had had another hallucination; he thought Ocean was simply heading for his tent to try and get some rest. That was fine as far as Carrow was concerned. He certainly needed it.
Spender was also heading after him, meaning Tally could now have her boat back. That wasn't the most pressing thing on Carrow's mind right now, though. He returned his attention to the mousemaid, speaking softly to her as he tried to calm her, starting to rock her steadily to and fro. "There... it's alright, Tally. You should try and relax now. Everything's going to be OK," he assured her, making his way out of the shade, stroking her forehead soothingly as he sat down with the orange-furred rodent in his lap, still slowly cradling her.
Warwick was witness to this heart-warming scene, and Carrow's ears twitched as the Quarter Gunner addressed him. They were playing cricket, were they? Carrow wasn't all that fond of the sport: he couldn't follow it, and had never had any time himself to try his paw at it. He looked up at the stoat, shaking his head. "No thank you, sir - I've never played cricket in my life. I've never been that fond of playing sports actually.
I'm otherwise engaged right now, as you can see..." He gestured to the drowsy Tally. "Thanks for your offer, Jal Norwich, sir, but I'm going to sit this one out. Spender and Ocean are likewise - the latter's going back to his tent to get some shuteye, I believe, and I can't say I blame him." Before he could say anything else, a familiar voice echoed up above him. Selvis had found Norwich and was heading towards him.
"Jal Norwich, sir! Jis Serra says she needs you back at the sick tent, though I can't fathom why at the moment; maybe she'll make things a bit clearer once we get back! Come along, sir, if you don't mind," he said gently, peering down at the shore and spotting Carrow. He waved to the mouse, smiling as he noticed what the rodent was doing. "Hello matey!," he called softly. Carrow waved to him in response. "I've gotta head back, so I'll leave you to it, I think. You look like you're doing a good job," he told Carrow, something that made the modest mouse blush a little before he busied himself with Tally once again.
The weasel addressed Warwick once more. "What do you think of all this so far?," he asked, wondering how the stoat was settling in. He hadn't seen him anywhere before today, so in Selvis's eyes, he was a newcomer, even if he had most likely been around on the ship longer than Selvis himself. They began heading back to the sick tent. Despite his melancholy, Selvis found himself in a talkative mood. "Is it everything you expected?"
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Post by Ladorak on Aug 1, 2011 9:51:33 GMT -5
Ladorak smiled at her comment, opening up his paw again to look at the clasp. She wanted to burn it down? That was quite the switch from a year ago (though it didn't seem that long to him) where she'd been pining for such a life back there. Had she really changed? Or was this just another fickle mood of hers? As it stood, burning the place down sounded rather tempting.
"You see..." he said, staring at it. "This belonged to one of the assassins known only as..." here he paused, unsure if he should mention the name, though it probably didn't matter, as he was no longer affiliated with them. "The Director's Men." Caden was listening, but the name did not ring a bell with him.
"As it stands, there's NO way I should be holding this clasp right now, unless one possibility occurred... and that possibility is that this particular one... has been killed. I have my guesses of course, but I'm not entirely certain, either. Driscoll is not from the Imperium; he hails from a quite different place in fact. I suppose I'll have to see what he wants after we carry Calvi."
Caden twitched a little at the mention of the Imperium. Why that place? What did that have to do with the current war? Or that marten? He watched as Ladorak attempted to stop Selvis from departing, but the weasel was too quick, and he was already gone.
The stoat was looking up at Molly now with an affectionate look, but when he spoke, he made sure to put his paw down. "Belay that order." he said. "I'm still in command here, and the loss of sight in my eye is no reason to think otherwise. YOU aren't going to be risking yourself like that... not unless I'm by your side." he added. "Right now, we've got thirty-five guns pouring fire on them, and it's only a matter of time before we breach their walls. Just be patient... taking a gun outside of the batteries would be suicide. It was BECAUSE I was standing behind those sandbags that I'm not dead now. Now then... I was going to ask who was participating in the assault."
He looked over at Caden, and then at Molly. "Next time, Molls, send Caden." he said, smiling. "It's his job to act as a messenger on the ship after all, so he may as well get used to it. Selvis, while going for a petty officer position, has no pull or clout just yet, and he can't rightly order a petty officer around." the stoat reminded her, though still smiling. "I do appreciate your concern though, but Caden should know I'm tougher than I look. The loss of sight in an eye isn't going to keep me down for long." he hopped off the bed, and stretched his forearms back a bit. "And... thank you. It's good to know I'm making an impact in the lives that matter most to me. That's why I live after all... for the ones that matter."
"MIdshipjack, who among your group is going to take part in the storming of Mozzello and the Fountain Battery?" he asked.
"Um, right, sir. Seajack Selvis will be participating, but I don't think Carrow will be. Ocean seems too sick in my opinion, and I have no idea about Spender. I think Quarter Gunner Norwich said yes, and... I think that's all I managed to find out. Sir, I respectfully request the use of a poleaxe for this operation." the albino delivered his words professionally, as he remembered he was still in uniform after all.
Nodding, the stoat thought this a good idea .
"The Quarter Gunner requesed a tomahawk... I think." the marten went on, struggling to remember.
"Fair enough. Start gathering your companions together. I'm going back to my tent to mix another gin and tonic, and then consult with Colonel Moore over the upcoming attack. It should only be a few more days before we breach their walls. They may be close to fifteen or twenty feet thick, but they're coming down." he commented. "Get a definite yes or no from them, and try and get a weapon choice as well."
Turning his head to Molly, he motioned with it toward the exit. "Coming, then, darling?" he asked, taking her paw in his before giving it a bit of a squeeze. "You'll have plenty of opportunity to get up and personal in the actual attack. I'd rather you stayed back for now."
Caden had nodded, saluted, and exited the tent. It was business as usual, even with Ladorak's injury. They all still had a job to do after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh... that's very kind of you to offer, sir." Ocean said to Warwick, who had started a game of cricket on the beach. "But... I think I'll just... go back to my tent and lie down." he said, still holding his side. "Nice and shady... and the abdominal pain ain't goin' away." he explained.
He regarded Spender curiously, reminding himself that no matter how lucid Spender COULD seem at any given moment, he was still always going to be Spender. Spender the Sieve.
"Of course I'm sick, mate. What, ye forget that already?" he asked, shaking his head. "I've got a fever, my abdomen hurts, I'm hallucinating... coughing... it's no fun." he said, giving off another cough again.
Caden suddenly made his appearance behind Selvis, and spoke right into the weasel's ear. "Ahem, hey there, Selvis. Sorry I missed you before. Captain Fugate wants us all getting together for this upcoming attack. He wants final choices on weapons to be made, and a definite yes or no if you're participating in the assault." the albino explained.
"Same goes for the rest on the beach!" he called out. "Captain Fugate needs to know who's going to be taking part in the assault on Fort Mozzello, and also what weapons one would like to wield. How about you, Spender?" he asked, looking at the ferret. "You taking part?"
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Post by Carrow on Aug 1, 2011 11:24:50 GMT -5
Selvis started a little as Caden appeared behind him, eyes widening. "Great seasons, mate, where did you spring from?!," he exclaimed, smiling, not having been expecting Caden's sudden reappearance. What was that he was saying about having 'missed him before', though? Had he meant to tell Selvis something before he'd left? This thought made the longtail sigh inwardly. Great... can't do anything right it seems. Can't even stick around for a friend...
He was feeling worse still about his position, but Caden couldn't possibly know this. Selvis was by now pretty much fully convinced that he could never be in the right place at the right time, and it was ripping him to shreds. He missed the old days, when others turned to him for assistance, instead of the other way around. He couldn't rely on himself anymore; now he needed others to keep him together, much like Carrow had needed them for most of the past year.
Molly had told him to pull himself together, but it wasn't quite as simple as that. The weasel was almost completely deflated. Pull himself together? That just wasn't possible at this point as far as he was concerned. Hell, he could scarcely HOLD himself together these days. No longer was he supremely confident and self-assured. He was almost completely lost. No confidence. No self-esteem. No way to properly tell the others just how he felt.
He put his bravest face on things, however, when his pine marten companion addressed him. Despite his current despondency, the longtail was still very much looking forward to the assault. Caden would be beside him as well, and this thought was enough to lift his spirits slightly. "I've already given you my answer, Caden, but well, since you need it confirmed, I definitely will be taking part in the assault." There'd be no point in me backing out now, he thought, no matter how I feel.
He was tired of feeling this way but there was nothing he could currently do about it, so he busied himself with selecting his weapon choices. He had been about to tell Caden before everything else had happened, and he'd been left more fragile than he'd ever been before. "As for my weapons," he told the marten Midshipjack, his voice trembling slightly despite his best efforts, "I'd like a musket and a cutlass please, sir, if they're available," he revealed.
"I think I should have no problem pawdling a musket. I've trained with one before and reckon it suits me best of all," he told his companion. Least this gives me something to do, he thought. I'm honestly not sure what I'd do otherwise. Part of me wants to go back to my tent and try and make sense of how I'm feeling right now - because I don't really know myself - but most of the rest of me wants to stick around and be with Caden and Warwick. The former's a very good friend; the latter has the potential to become one.
Carrow looked up at his weasel and marten friends, shaking his head. Tally was of course still in his lap. "No, I'm not going to be taking part. It's a shame because I'd really like to be with both of you for it, but I... don't really feel comfortable with the idea. Not yet. I'm going to stay put and look after Tally while Molly's away," he told them. "Maybe next time I'll feel better about it - but if this helps, I'll be with you in spirit!," he exclaimed, smiling up at them.
For some reason, even though he'd never done it before, he was getting used to taking care of the orange-furred mousemaid. He felt quite protective at that point, as he looked down and watched her try to keep her eyes open, something that made him smile. She was perfect for him. He'd do anything for her, just like the rest of his friends... but he didn't think of Tally as merely a friend anymore.
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Post by spender on Aug 3, 2011 16:35:04 GMT -5
Molly was in a funk. She didn't want to wait: she thirsted for vengeance! How could Ladorak be so calm about losing something so precious? What if he lost the other one!? Her life would be ruined. Her looks were the only reason they had met in the first place. If he couldn't see her...
Well, surely he wasn't in love with her due to her personality? When had that ever happened?
She let Ladorak lead her out of the tent, but dragged herself somewhat, stumping her footpaws and requiring a little tug from him to keep her moving.
"I don't want to wait," she pouted. "It's not fair."
Molly turned her head to watch Caden slip away down the cliff again, following Selvis. Something about seeing the cliff bugged her. She felt she was forgetting something.
Oh, well. Even if her plan of action was struck down, Selvis finding Warwick would give the weasel something to do. She shook her head: what was it with these striplings? She'd have to talk to Caden about it some day, at least. He could pass it on to his friends: If life isn't being quite what you expected, moping and feeling sorry wouldn't do any good. You have to smack it with a mace and kick it while its down! Show life who was boss! Burn its house down! With lemons! Yeah!
"Lemons!" Molly exclaimed. "Lemon rum! I've misplaced Tally!"
Tally had misplaced herself, in fact. She couldn't quite remember where she was. It was warm, though, which was nice, because it wasn't Really Really Hot anymore. There was shade, better shade than from her parasol.
Also there was Carrow, which was very nice indeed.
Her little belly jiggled, full of rum and sandwiches and warmth and happiness, now that her paws were not covered in sand. Carrow could stand to be a bit bigger, she decided: he was not quite as good as holding her as Molly was, but then again, Molly was much much bigger than Carrow and that was only to be expected. He did very well considering Tally was only a little smaller than him. She snuggled closer, closing her eyes and yawning. Her parasol dipped and fell away from her paws.
Spender cocked his head, eying the group on the beach. Group sport! ... he was nervous about group sport. At least when you played with only one other beast, there was only one of them to yell at you when you messed up and ate the ball. When you had teams, things got complicated. For instance, you had to not only remember the rules of the game, but which team you were on. Sometimes it was easy to work out, though: Your team was the one that yelled at you the most.
After a moment's thought he came forward gleefully, wanting to at least try. Squeaks was a good fellow, and he had more sweets in his bag, Spender could see.
His trot slowed as he caught sight of the cricket bat, however. He pointed at it and howled:
"Oi! Wossat fer!"
His paws flew to his rump reflexively. Then he looked down and realised that, apart from his beret stuck to his head, he was stark naked. This was normally not a problem—was, in fact, something he often strove for—but however feral and childish his mind might have been, some distant tidbit of a fleeting idea of Presentation tugged lightly on his tail, and he gave a large idiotic grin.
"I fergot my trousers!"
He turned around. They were under the little boat!
He ignored Caden as the marten began to round up the sailors for something or other: it was only fair, the ferret decided. Caden had ignored him earlier. Far as he was concerned, the poncy albino officer could go suck on a mud clot.
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Post by warwick on Aug 3, 2011 18:13:54 GMT -5
"It's just a..." Warwick could not even finish as Spender announced that he had misplaced his trousers to the whole beach. As the ferret trotted off, the stoat tried to keep a straight face. His body shook and he put a paw to his muzzle as he chuckled. Spender must be the comedian of the group, he realised. The larger mustelid seemed to clown about with indifferent ease. "Oh, very well, funny ferret. Haha..."
"Jal Norwich, sir! Jis Serra says she needs you back at the sick tent, though I can't fathom why at the moment; maybe she'll make things a bit clearer once we get back! Come along, sir, if you don't mind."
"Jis Serra? Oh dear, sounds urgent!" Warwick blustered. He coughed and clapped his paws. The burly sailors all stood with him. "Lads... sniff... I'm afraid I'll have to dash off. Allens, you're captain of my team now! Good luck!"
The game of cricket dealt with, Warwick turned to Selvis.
"Thanks for the message, old chap. To be honest, I expected a few more volunteers! But, what the officers say, goes. If they don't have to come along, not much I can do! Still, you'd hope your fellow mustelid would stand beside you in the face of adversity," Warwick patted Selvis on the shoulder reassuringly, "Well, I'll be seeing you in the thick of it, I expect! Jolly good show!"
With that semi-inspiring speech, Warwick had to run. He had captain's fiancees to attend to. He suppose it was the least he could do to make up for his earlier terseness at seeing the female swim at the same beach as the jacks. Warwick hurried into the tent he had left the captain in.
SMACK.
"You again! There's nought wrong with ye!" Lester boomed. Warwick shook his befuddled head. One more smack from that badger and he was sure he would be laid out on the floor.
"No, sah, I'm here to see Jis Serra!"
"She's not here. Don't try and excuse yer cowardice!"
"No...squeak...squeak..." Warwick stumbled and sniffled, his tics coming to the fore at precisely the wrong moment. Lester cuffed him about the head once more and this time Warwick really did keel over. He squeaked and covered his head, waiting for the drumming noise in his mind to stop.
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