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Post by Carrow on Nov 25, 2011 12:45:59 GMT -5
"I can see you raising your eyebrows there!," Selvis exclaimed, chuckling heartily at the surprised expression on his fellow mustelid's countenance. "It's quite a long time, yes, and I'm glad we get to spend it in a place like Florence, because I'm slightly more familiar with it now. I'm best with places where there's lots to see and lots to do." The longtail was the sort of creature who was much more content when he was able to keep himself occupied, and he never had a problem with that on land.
He listened to Heinrich's comments when he was finished speaking, and blushed a little."Oh... I'm sorry if I'm getting a little carried away explaining all this to you, Scharnhorst, but truth be told I can't really contain my excitement. I feel like I need to tell you as much of this as I possibly can, because, well, even though we've only been speaking for a short time, I can say with certainly I'd be delighted if you would serve alongside my friends and I," he admitted. He had taken an immediate liking to Heinrich after all, and would be dissappointed if March came around and he didn't set sail with them.
"Oh, we get snow, right enough. Usually our temperatures peak around August, and the absolute hottest we normally get would be around one hundred Fahrenheit. That'd be the kind of weather where a creature would really struggle if they weren't used to it. Then at the other end of the scale... yes, you're correct when you say the average temperatues are in the forties for us in winter, but the last few years I spent in Crittenden weren't exactly average," he explained.
"The last few months of those years were a bit colder than what I'd been expecting, and as a result we had more snow than usual. Those winters weren't too harsh, but it was cold enough for a considerable amount of snow. There was a sort of payoff there: I had to wrap up a little warmer than usual, but it was rather a lot of fun being able to play in the snow! Heheh, that's not something I can see myself tiring of for a while yet," he commented, eyes glinting.
"We managed to get up to some of that in the grounds of the Pitti Palace last year... that is until the ferret I was talking about earlier came along and ruined our fun," he said, rolling his eyes and frowning a bit. "Hopefully things will go better this year. It's nice that we're staying at the same place, because I was rather fond of the palace last year. I really like winter, as it happens. Depending on where you are it can be quite beautiful," he told the zorilla.
"Some scenes I've witnessed over the years, well, they were quite picturesque, almost as if they merited being sketched or painted... oh, and speaking of which, as that reminds me of my beech marten friend's hobbies, what do you like to do in your spare time? I know you must be one for travelling - most creatures I know are like that, in fact, another reason why I think I'm in good company - but what else do you like to get up to?," he enquired, ready to tell Heinrich more about his own pastimes if he was curious enough to ask about them.
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Post by Ladorak on Nov 27, 2011 22:21:31 GMT -5
Ladorak remained silent, letting Willard speak as he explained about how he saw the crew of the Agamemnon as his family. Oh yes... a crew was a family. Comrades could form a very strong bond with each other... sometimes even stronger than filial ties, Comrades would die for each other, and most certainly risked their lives for each other, sometimes even forgetting the reasons they were fighting the war in the first place.
He smiled again, having listened patiently while the weasel spoke about the crew. "Well Willard... that doesn't surprise me. You're learning something many combatants learn in the span of their time in the service. We all form bonds... very strong ones sometimes. You're at the first step... viewing it as a family. You may have not have formed very close personal bonds just yet, but you're getting there." he commented.
He nodded slowly, reminiscing about his own times rising through the ranks of the armed forces. "So why me?" he asked, smile still remaining. "You said I was the reason you wanted to come ashore. What about me in particular moved you so much to do so?" he asked, smile growing a little now, though it was still friendly, and not at all condescending. "It's not often you do so, after all."
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"Vhat do I like to do in my spare time? Hmm... vell... I usually spent it studying at ze Academy, and I didn't have much free time after zat, as I had made up my mind to begin traveling almost right away. I've spent all my time doing zat. Graduated in June of zis year, after all. As zere weren't any openings available in Hanover, I decided to head south." he outlined.
"Hmmm... I enjoy reading... zo it's been avhile since I've played as a kit... as I am a kit no more. I have a penchant for mathematics, zo... most find zat boring. I also like studying military tactics and theory, as zat is my vater's specialty. I like staying active zo... I like valking everyvhere if I can, as it is good exercise, and exploring every city I come to. I'm educating myself about ze militaries of each nation, and hoping to study vhich one has ze best and also be one I'd like to serve in."
"So..." he said, looking over at Selvis now. "Vhat in particular has you so excited to serve alongside me?" he asked, unable to suppress a smile.
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Post by spender on Nov 28, 2011 13:38:54 GMT -5
Spender shifted uncomfortably. The wait was overwhelming; and moreso, the silence. Tally had settled into her usual blank state, having completed her order and having no further stimuli to respond to. She, at least, didn't mind waiting. Carrow had his food. Ocean was just sitting there. Nothing was happening.
His stomach rumbled again. He hadn't eaten since that morning, when he'd gotten a gelato—a portion of which was still dried to the side of his face. But something was always dried to the side of his face, so nothing was out of the ordinary there. He felt sick. Probably from the entire bottle of wine...
But when he traced the sickness, it wasn't in his stomach at all. It crawled out of his heart, cold and hard, every little tendril turning his nerves to stone, killing him slowly.
He dug through his pockets, checked his beret, but what he needed wasn't there. He'd been holding it... and then... it had turned into money? No! He remembered something dropping... and then seeing someone pick it up again. It was only a few minutes ago! (Why did it feel like days?)
"O...Ocean... d'you have th'picture? Of..." He glanced at Carrow, but then softened. The mouse had been the one to read her letter to him. There could be no judgement there, surely. "Of Polly?"
Willard almost felt a glow for a moment. He was wary of it. Approval just lowered one's need to gain it. Still, it was nice to see the Captain smiling.
"No one does wrong around you, sir. And when you're not around..."
Willard looked away, as if glancing out the window. His ears folded.
"Maybe it's better I don't make any personal bonds, sir. I'd prefer to love the crew equally. If I had to choose to help someone I cared about more than the other, that decision could put everyone at risk. If I chose to save, for instance, Seajack Cielciosk, over one of the Lieutenants... I would prefer to make that choice logically, sir. I know I always would either way. But if my heart wanted one thing and that didn't match up with what my mind knows is right... I'd rather not have to do that again, sir."
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Post by Carrow on Nov 28, 2011 14:05:25 GMT -5
"That's quite a good choice, I think," Carrow responded in equally low tones. "If I hadn't wanted to be adventurous and try some lasagne, I would have gone for something simple like that. I'm rather used to eating simple food, of course, but one thing I've noticed is that the Calgarians in particular seem to eat very well. I must admit I like their language as well. It sounds... er, how would I describe it... almost musical to my ears," he revealed, unable to keep from smiling now.
"I've been trying to pay attention to what I've heard in the street. My Calgarian consists of little more than small bits and pieces I've picked up since we stopped in Naples last year, but, you know, I might like to try learning some of it... maybe study it in my spare time. I'd like to be slightly more proficient with foreign languages. Selvis could perhaps teach me a little Ferlusanian as well if he felt himself up to it. I never had the time nor inclination to study languages when I was younger, but it's something that quite interests me now.
"Speaking of things that interest me... or, more precisely, things that I am curious about... might I..." He cleared his throat, having another mouthful of lasagne before he continued, making sure he didn't trip over his tongue. "Might I be able to have a word with you later, possibly in private? It's about something I've pondered every so often since I met you last year... something I might like to know more about. I can't help but feel curious about it, you see," he admitted with a small shrug.
Carrow had been meaning to talk to Ocean, but he was also hoping for a word with Caden as well, sometime in the near future. He needed to confide in somebeast, but only when he felt himself ready to do so. He was feeling more than just a little insecure about something that had become increasingly apparent to him in recent times, and needed to get it off his chest, and Caden was as good as anybeast else for that. Thoughtfully munching on his lasagne, he furrowed his brow in contemplative fashion.
Then, the rodent looked at Tally and a mischievous smile formed on his face as he stroked her cheek with his free paw. "Tally? I'm going to be getting you a Christmas present this year, you know. Would you like anything in particular or shall I pick something out for you? Either is fine, but to be honest I'd really like to treat you because we should be getting our prize money in December, so that means I'll be able to spend more on the creatures I care about," he told her gently, his smile becoming warmer.
More lasagne vanished from the field mouse's plate... and then he noticed Spender. He was being unusually quiet. There was none of that usual boisterousness from him. He knew Warwick's absence had something to do with it, but maybe, just maybe, he thought, the ferret would feel slightly better with some food in him. He wasn't sure why he was trying to cheer the mustelid up, because it didn't affect him if Spender was upset, (and if his surly response to Caden's request was anything to go by, he was hardly in the most talkative of moods), but he figured he might as well try and perk his spirits up a bit. "Er... Spender?," he asked softly. "Might you like some of my lasagne? Maybe it might tide you over until your pizza gets here, you see; you appear to be starving," he remarked.
Then he heard that the ferret was asking Ocean about Peskers, asking to see a picture of him. The mustelid was correct in his assumption; Carrow wouldn't be one to judge, considering he knew more than most about what was going on between the two of them. He had been the one to see that letter that she'd sent, and he couldn't blame Spender for what he was doing. He was missing her terribly, in a similar-yet-different way to how Carrow was missing Archie. He wondered what was going through the mustelid's mind.
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Selvis listened attentively as Heinrich told him about what he liked to do in his spare time, nodding as he told him that he hadn't had much of it whilst studying at the Academy. That stood to reason, but the longtail had heretofore been unaware of the extent to which it had taken up his time. Life there must have been considerably different to, say, how Selvis's time at school had been structured. Once again, this was quite understandable, considering its militaristic aims.
"It seems you and I have yet more things in common, friend Scharnhorst," the weasel said softly, his blue eyes lighting up as the zorilla mentioned that he enjoyed reading. "I am what others have called a voracious reader," he commented with a small chuckle. "Granted, that has had to take a back seat since I've joined up with Welkin - most of my reading these days consists of the Articles of War, as potential Ship's Corporals have to know them inside out, of course," he told his fellow mustelid.
"As for mathematics, well... on the whole, it was never one of my favourite subjects whilst at school, although I was quite good at it; sometimes working with numbers fascinated me, and sometimes I found it hard to get interested in it. I can certainly see why you'd be interested in that, mind - you certainly seem bright enough to enjoy that sort of thing. I never really found it boring, as such, it's just that I preferred subjects like Ferlusanian, Common and History.
"Another thing others said about me was that I had a penchant for languages... but yes, do go on," he told Heinrich. His own experiences of school could be discussed later if they were going to be discussed at all. He smiled as Heinrich told him that he liked keeping active; Selvis could certainly relate to that. He liked to keep himself in good physical condition as well. A particularly large grin appeared on his features as Heinrich mentioned he liked to explore.
"Ahh, it does my heart good to know you're clearly as passionate about exploring as I am. Hehe, you know what they say after all: 'Adventure is out there!' I always knew serving aboard the Agamemnon would be an adventure, and it has certainly proved to be thus so far. What are your impressions of Florence now you've been here a little while?," he asked, stopping a moment as Heinrich asked him why Selvis wanted him to serve alongside him.
"I think I would have said 'everything' if you'd asked me generally," he responded playfully, eyes sparkling, "because I really just think you'd be wonderful to serve alongside. Since you're asking for specifics, though: you're friendly, you're a good conversationalist, and I think you're quite an interesting creature. I can usually tell more or less right off when I meet someone new whether I like what I see or not, and you've... well, you've left quite the impression on me," he responded honestly.
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Post by Ladorak on Nov 28, 2011 23:45:06 GMT -5
Ocean had lapsed into a lull. He felt pulled in all directions now. He still had faint desires of deserting, and striking out on his own, though that would make him a marked jack in Welkin, and he'd never be able to go back if recognized. That would basically mean saying goodbye to Spender and everyone else permanently, and most likely fighting in an enemy nation's navy... against his old comrades. True, he could join Ferlusan, but it didn't look like they'd be in this fight much longer.
Then of course there was Spender. He was trying to help him, but felt more and more recently like all his efforts were in vain. What was the point if anything he did made no difference? He loved his brother, but it felt like banging his head against a brick wall over and over again.
How could he pawdle his own issues if he constantly had to (usually fruitlessly) deal with everyone else's problems? He was starting to realize that he couldn't, not especially when the Captain's decision was still hanging over him, like a sword poised to strike at any moment. It was breaking him down slowly from within, and he knew now (as it fully slammed into him) that he was going to come apart at the seams.
He rubbed a paw over his mouth, distracted as he didn't initially realize that Carrow was even talking to him. He missed most of what the mouse had said, and shook his head, finally realizing he was being addressed. Something about Calgarian... he had completely missed most of that. He was actually feeling nauseous over this, but did hear Carrow ask to speak to him in private. He raised a brow, puzzled. "Uh... sure. Yeah." he said, nodding in a small fashion. Yet another thing he probably wouldn't be able to do anything about. "I'm not... entirely sure what you wish to discuss, but sure. Whenever you want." he said, looking over at Spender as he cautiously asked if he still had the picture of Peskers.
Did he? Reaching into his pocket in a distracted fashion, the ermine dug around, finally pulling it out, and opened it up. He had no memory of placing it in there, but he must have done it at some point. "Yeah... here." he said, pawing it over, though not really looking at the ferret in the process. He just stared at the wrought iron table, unsure what exactly he was looking at.
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Ladorak nodded solemnly. "I see. It's more a comfort thing, then." he said, knowing that Willard hadn't bothered to finish that sentence for a specific reason. The stoat really doubted that things were quite that bad, but he said nothing as Willard continued, explaining why he probably didn't want to form bonds with any one of the crew.
"I see... you may be referring to the incident between yourself and Jal Sleet." he said, speaking slowly, mostly to make sure it wasn't too much of a sensitive subject. "I must admit... I still haven't decided what I'm going to do with him. A creature like him has dangerous tendencies, and really doesn't belong in the Navy." he confessed, interlacing his claws as he rested his elbows on his legs. "However, at the same time, he's also Spender's foster brother, and I'm not sure what effect that would have on either of them were I to remove him from the ship. It's a difficult decision I face, and a harsher Captain wouldn't think twice about it, but I care about my crew as well." he explained, closing his eyes, as if he were tired.
"The things you took weren't of much consequence, but so far as you have curbed those urgings, it won't land you in trouble in the future. Theft is treated with running the gauntlet after all, and I'd hate to see you end up in that sort of situation." it seemed as if a sadness was settling over the stoat as he spoke, his features becoming sagged and weary.
He was under much stress these days. Hood was gone. He had no confidence in Hotham. He worried day in and day out how a fleet action would go if the Rosferians ever decided to sortie. He also was concerned over his own career in the Navy. It had been very lackluster so far, despite his best efforts, and was making him question it all again. If he couldn't leave his mark on this world, then what was the point? He HAD to prove himself! He'd been destroyed too many times to be labeled as a failure the rest of his life. He couldn't let them win after all. He needed this just as much as he needed the air in his lungs, even if the others couldn't understand. He'd lost eyesight in his right eye for this after all. It couldn't all be meaningless... it couldn't. He'd given up too much already.
Finally reopening his eyes, the stoat looked at the weasel with a melancholic expression. "I have confidence in you though. You're slated to become a Midshipjack at some point, and I know you want to do well in living up to that." he stated, continuing to gaze at Willard as he rested his chin on his paws.
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"Heh... I see, I see." Scharnhorst replied, nodding contemplatively. "I am good company zen. Vell... you aren't ze only vone who thinks so, but others vould say I am not as vell, to be fair." he said, shrugging his shoulders. Ah yes... the Articles of War... something he'd need to familiarize himself with if he joined. Unlike nobility in Ferlusan, and... whatever system Rosferia currently had (formerly nobility), the Welkinite Navy was by and large led by the middle class, which made it different from every other Navy on the continent.
"Vhat do I think about Florence zo? Vell... zat is a gut question." he said, nodding again. "Hmmm it is very... vell Kostritz, in a way, but still has its Calgarian roots as well, mostly in its architecture and cuisine. Ze city itself is beautiful. A true vonder to be here, zo most of Calgary is like zat, as zey all used to be city states, after all." he commented.
"Zat's vhat makes Calgary unique. Each city state was trying to be ze best at vhat it did. Competition with each other led to great sights to behold in terms of buildings and palaces. Not much military presence here zo. Zat's all focused in Mantua, ze main Kostritzer base here. You have ze royal guard, but zat's about it. Mantua is within quick marching distance zo, so it's not too much of a problem. Most of ze army is concentrated further vest now, holding off Rosferia at ze Alps and such." he explained.
"And vhat about you? Vhat are your impressions?" he asked.
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Post by spender on Nov 29, 2011 8:29:42 GMT -5
"Vot iss Chris-miss present?" Tally asked. "I don't know vot dis iss because I don't know vot dis iss."
Christmas last year had been nothing but a blur of culture shock: too much food, too much freedom, too much niceness. Any presents she had gotten from Molly were lost among the dozens of things showing up surprisingly in her possession around that time; all the dresses, bows, toy ducks, coshes (just to see if she was into that kind of thing, had been Molly's excuse), hats, ...
She'd dug out her pewter bottle and placed it on the table; it was uncomfortable for her dress apron's pocket, though it was now empty. She shook it upside down and only a few drops of milk came out. These she attempted to lick up from the table.
"Iss somet'ink to drink?"
"Nuh-uh," Spender said; not in the dismissive tone he had used on Caden earlier, but in a simple, quiet refusal. "'s got..." Mouse drool. No. No, he didn't think like that anymore. Not about Carrow, at least. "I dun' like th'stuff b'tween th'cheese an' sauce. Too chewy," said the ferret who saved oatmeal in his hat for lunch most days. But it was an honest answer. Spaghetti noodles were fun, but pasta didn't sit well with him. Even if it did look like a sandwich. "I c'n wait."
Spender's muzzle cracked into the briefest of smiles as he stared into Polly's portrait. It probably looked like a smirk to anyone watching. He traced each of her whiskers and ached in ways no beating, save of the heart, could cause a beast to ache. At least it was something, unlike the nothingness that had him drooping all over the place earlier.
"Wonder 'ow many she 'ad," he said quietly. Polly's letter had informed him there was more than the average of one kit. She was a special breed of ferret, possessing some dormant feral gene that ages ago had caused litters to average between three to eight.
And then something rather amazing happened: He sniggered. "Heh... nunky Ocean..."
"It's a difficult decision I face, and a harsher Captain wouldn't think twice about it, but I care about my crew as well."
Willard nodded. A harsher Captain would have kicked Spender out ages ago, solving the entire problem.
But he was slightly surprised, though he did his best not to show it. Dangerous tendencies...? Apart from a few harsh mood swings, Willard couldn't recall anything particularly dangerous. Apart from the match-tub incident. But surely Ocean didn't do that on a regular basis; it had been the first and last the weasel had witnessed such a thing. It had been their first battle... everyone had been a little jittery afterwards.
He was curious now, but kept his tongue. It wasn't proper to talk about crewbeasts behind their back. Especially when one's own vices were being brought out into the light again.
"I have confidence in you though. You're slated to become a Midshipjack at some point, and I know you want to do well in living up to that."
"Thank you, sir," Willard said. His neck fur stood on end; he'd nearly zheeped! Too much praise, too much! He wasn't used to it. "I do. I... I don't mind if I have to run the gauntlet, sir. It's what I deserve. I haven't stopped the urgings entirely. I've only become aware of them. I can stop if I know I'm doing it, but if I'm not paying attention... It's not that I purposefully go looking to take things, sir." Not anymore, anyway. "It just sort of happens. Therefore I keep constant vigilance. 'Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?' as it is said. I do, sir. I do, too. I watch myself all the time." It was easier when you had two of yourself living in your head. "Maybe... Maybe Seajack Volunteer Class I Sleet does the same? I don't know what dangerous tendencies he has, but he is very capable in every way as I have observed him, sir."
Ocean wasn't exactly on his mind anymore, however; rather, Caden was. Willard was simply baffled by the marten's promotion to Midshipjack. They had joined the Navy at the same time. They had read the same books (well, unless Caden was hiding one and not letting him borrow it). They had been to the same lessons, worked the same shifts. In fact, Willard had worked more. All those sieges when everyone else had gone to land, he'd stayed behind to focus entirely on how a ship was run with three fifths of a crew. What did land combat have to do with being a Midshipjack? Or was it their time on the Orion? That wasn't exactly fair...
But life, Willard knew well, was not fair. It was Prestige, most likely. Caden was the Captain's son. It was expected. It still stung... but he didn't let it bother him. He would just have to work harder. He would earn his promotion. And God forbid he revealed he was step-son to the great Captain Castrigg Waters, the King's best kept naval secret! Somewhere out there a brave, wonderful weasel was protecting Welkin from threats no one even knew existed. He could draw on that pride whenever he needed—until someone told him it was a fairy-tale his mother had fed him for years. The real Castrigg Waters had died in striped yellow pyjamas after she had accidentally hit him in the head with a frying pan while trying to clock the weasel Castrigg had been tussling with, and he had most certainly never fought for Welkin in his lifetime.
It was at this moment that Molly suddenly sat halfway up, mumble-shouting "Blizzard!" through a heavily cottoned mouth. She blinked one eye at a time, head swaying on her long slender neck, and gracefully dropped back down to her pillow.
The weasel doctor got up with a scrape of chair to see what the commotion was.
And Willard got back into his chair, having been scared out of it by the unexpectedness of it all (it had sounded a lot like his own name.) His short little tail was all a-bristle.
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Post by Ladorak on Nov 29, 2011 14:17:34 GMT -5
Ocean had been considering getting up and wandering off on his own after Carrow had responded. Whether or not he'd keep his word about talking to the mouse later remained to be seen. The strain was starting to get to him, and he felt like getting lost somewhere in the city... and perhaps "accidentally" falling into the Arno.
How ironic... the one thing he feared and loathed more than anything... water. Yet the water would encircle him, wrapping his body up in its dark shroud until there would be nothing but water surrounding him. He pictured it now, his prone form just sinking deeper and deeper into the river, though that of course did not account for current. He would lift his eyes skyward, watching as the surface got further and further away.
It would be the absolute deepest sin he could commit... yet he often wondered with all he'd done if he was even going to Heaven anyway at this rate. How did God have so much forgiveness within Him? Ocean seemed like such a speck after all, a blot on the massive Earth.
Sighing heavily, the ermine almost didn't catch what Spender said next. His head was still slumping, and his eyes were still on the intricate ironwork of the table that lay before him. So many paths... winding everywhere. It was a grillwork so complex that he marveled at how the designer could trace so many of them at once.
He knitted his brows when he heard his name again, this time from Spender. Looking with his eyes over to the ferret, he could only gaze at the picture with a puzzled expression on his face. It seemed Spender wasn't really addressing him, merely mentioning his name as an uncle. An uncle? Why would Spender even want him around his kits?
The ferret was awfully confusing at times. One minute he seemed delusional and spouting things about Warwick... the next he was angry and spiteful... and then he was afraid of his brother, acting overly cautious, as if Ocean would lash out at any minute and commence beating on the ferret. Now he was thinking about how Ocean would be as an uncle?
He tried to make sense of it, but his brain was simply on overload right now. He'd quite literally gone from seeing himself sinking into the Arno and God to being called an uncle. It was too contradictory for his brain to process, and he could only stare at the picture with knitted brows and slight frown on his features, a dazed expression evident. Flashes of his spell with Typhoid Fever briefly returned, as this sort of muddled confusion his brain had stumbled into reminded him very much of that time.
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Ladorak reached over to the night table, and retrieved his glass of brandy. Raising it to his lips, the stoat closed his eyes and listened as he began to down the drink, taking in what Willard had to say as the fiery fluid burned his esophagus and seared its way down to his stomach.
Swalloing audibly, the stoat remained there with eyes closed, as if trying to will his stomach to digest what it had just received. "I see... keeping control over it... it's only when you don't pay attention. I've heard of such things." he commented, opening his eyes.
"And what of Jal Sleet's capabilities? That is different from the danger he presents to the crew. His mother had the same thing... and I knew his mother in person. She loved fire... the flames... and he apparently has that buried deep within him. He may be able to pawdle it better under certain circumstances... but even I don't know what has set him off. Nevertheless... fire is a capital offense on a ship... as I'm sure you're aware. It is severely punished, and for good reason..."
He stopped as Molly suddenly came to life, causing Ladorak to sit bolt upright and look over in her direction. Some fur tumbled to the ground... shed from his body through sheer surprise perhaps. "Molly?" he asked softly, but received no response as she collapsed backward onto her pillow.
"Is that... a good sign... doctor?" Ladorak asked, muscles still tensed.
"Dad?"
Ladorak turned to the door., glimpsing Caden standing there in the opening. "How is she?" he asked quietly.
"She just sat up and said something... please... come in." he said, motioning for his ward to enter. The albino tentatively did so, noting that Willard was here as well, before doing a double take just to make sure. Yep... that was Willard Waters alright. Nodding at him, he moved silently by, and stood somewhat against the far wall, looking at Molly's bed as Ladorak watched the jill with intensity, as if trying to set her very bedsheets aflame with his gaze.
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Post by Carrow on Nov 30, 2011 13:05:49 GMT -5
"Thank you, Ocean," Carrow responded softly as the mustelid agreed to speak to him in private later, though the mouse had devfinitely noticed that something was up with the ermine. He had seemed to be off in his own world for a moment, and the fact that he had barely responded to a creature who was sitting right beside him wasn't a good sign. It was clear he had a lot on his mind - he always seemed to these days - but he rarely, if ever, was as distracted as he had been. It... wasn't like him. At all.
He hadn't really been listening, the rodent realised, and now he was startung to get worried about what kind of condition his ermine friend could be in. In any case it would be better for him to open up to somebeast about it than internalise it and let it build even further. That would only end badly. He didn't like seeing Ocean like this, and knew that he was under stress, but he'd need to get it out into the open or he'd most likely have a breakdown. Carrow had been there twice before... he could see the signs.
If he'd known what dark thoughts were currently going through his friend's mind, he would have been genuinely frightened, but he wasn't aware of the depths of Ocean's troubles. Ironically, the mustelid had caught the wrong end of the stick - Carrow didn't require assistance from him. If anything, he wanted to offer Ocean assistance. What he had originally wanted to talk about had had nothing to do with that in any case: he was wondering about the relationship between the ermine and Spender. All he knew was that Ocean saw the ferret as his brother.
Speaking of Spender, the mouse was surprised to hear him turn down the offer of lasagne. "You're sure you want you hang on until your pizza gets here?," he repeated, just to make sure. "Well, alright. I guess you're not a fan of pasta then?," he commented, smiling a little at the ferret: another creature who was visibly out of sorts. A thank-you would have been nice too, he supposed, but then again, this was Spender he was thinking of, so he would have been more surprised if those words had actually left the mustelid's mouth.
The ferret's referral to Ocean as 'Nunky' left the rodent completely flabbergasted for a moment. He was left rather confused by this off-paw remark; Spender seemed to be going through a series of moodswings at an alarming rate. In the past fifteen minutes alone, Carrow had seen him almost delirious, then watched as he'd bluntly refused Caden's simple request... and now this. What was going on with him?, he wondered. He didn't feel worried about him in the same way he did Ocean, but at the same time something was definitely off.
The mouse smiled as Tally enquired about Christmas. "Well, I was told where the tradition of giving presents came from, but that was... oh, seven years ago at this stage, so I'm going to tell you mostly from memory. Ocean?," he softly called, patting the ermine's paw to get his attention... or at least try to. "Could you help me in summing up the story of Christmas to Tally? She's wondering why there are presents involved, and I figured you'd know more about that than I would."
Returning his gaze to Tally, the field mouse spoke. "Far as I can recall, the tradition grew out of what happened at the first Christmas: three kings from the Orient travelled to celebrate the birth of a creature whom some believe to be the son of their god. Each king brought a present with him to acknowledge the birth of the child: one brought gold, one brought frankinsence, and one brought... er, myrrh, I think. The idea of giving presents to others to celebrate the holiday caught on from there. That's the gist of it, at least. And yes," he added, unable to keep from chuckling as Tally mentioned her present possibly being something to drink. "It could be, but then again it might not be!," he said mischievously.
--
Selvis shook his head in sheer disbelief when Heinrich admitted to him that there were those that didn't see him as good company. The weasel, in his more self-doubting times, had wondered why anybeast would see him as good to be around, but looking at Heinrich he just couldn't fathom how absolutely everybeast didn't see him as easy to be with. "I just can't understand that," he admitted to the mustelid. "Like I've said, you certainly know how to make an impression, but well... we can't please everybeast I suppose."
Again, Selvis knew how that felt. That just wouldn't be possible no matter how much he tried. Putting such thoughts out of his mind as quickly as they had cropped up, he instead turned his attention to what the zorilla was telling him about Calgary, and could not resist a passing comment. "You seem quite knowledgeable about Calgarian history. Would you mind telling me a little more about it, please? I know bits and pieces, myself, mainly to do with the Renaissance era," he told his fellow mustelid.
As Heinrich continued, Selvis heard the city states mentioned and his ears perked up. "Yes, Calgary used to be a lot more divided than it is now, if I recall correctly, and there was certainly a lot of competition during the Renaissance period - but it's been a while since I've gone over this," he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck with a paw, "so would you be able to tell me what these city states were best at, if you can?," he enquired, pleased with himself that he had been able to keep this conversation going for this long. He had been talkative before, but perhaps less so after what had happened to him. Maybe this year, in Florence, he could have a renaissance of his own.
The longtail was well able to see where Heinrich was coming from when he said that Florence was a beautiful place. Most of the weasel's memories of the place had been bad ones from last year, but he recalled being held spellbound by the splendour of the city when he'd first seen it. "I can certainly agree with you there, Scharnhorst! It's a beautiful place, and quite an interesting one too. In fact, it's the kind of place in which I might like to live one day. I've seen Naples too, but I prefer it here.
"Now I think about it, Calgary is just generally a country that... seems to speak to me. I can't really explain it but I've become rather taken with the regions I have visited so far," he told the zorilla. "That brings me to another question - and I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm barraging you with them but I feel overcome with curiosity today. Could you tell me a little more about what it's like where you come from? My friends and I haven't had the opportunity to travel that far north as of yet, so I don't know much about Hanover," he admitted, his tail swaying behind him, which was a sure sign that he was interested.
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Post by spender on Dec 1, 2011 11:53:59 GMT -5
"Is that... a good sign... doctor?"
"Too early," the weasel shook his head. "Don't know yet."
Willard meanwhile stood and took his hat off in greeting to Caden. "Sir." He gestured at his chair and slipped away to stand against the wall, out of everyone's way. He made his way over to the door, ready to leave if things got too... personal for his presence.
Molly had not fallen back asleep, but remained dazed. She whimpered, shifting her head to press the stitches above her eye into the pillow. After some prodding and tugging by the doctor, she opened her eyes again.
"B...linky?"
"If it helps," the doctor murmured. "Be holding still now." He dabbed at her eyes with his cloth, getting at the dried blood that had been under her eyelids. She tried to shove him away.
"'m not dead... let me go!"
She kicked at the sheets covering her; her tail whipped out and thwacked at the footboard. Willard caught a glimpse under the sheet as it was cast aside and turned away, shielding his eyes with a paw; she was only wearing a chemise, and half of it was lace.
"Ah, ah... ow! Ow, biting..." The doctor gave up and retreated, nursing his wrist.
Molly tumbled to the ground on the opposite side of the bed from where Ladorak and Caden were. She curled up, hugging her legs with one arm while clutching the side of her head with the other, and moaned.
"Nah," Spender said. He propped his elbow on the table and sunk his chin into his paw. "Pasta's gross." So that was what it was called... huh. Pasta. Stupid name, really. Not like porkchop; now there was a fun work. Chop! Hah! Wham! Slice; come paradise!
He drummed his claws on the table, one at a time at first, a random rhythm which eventually grew into a constant trill. It sounded like rain. He returned to whatever oblivious world his mind inhabited.
Tally was frowning and maneuvering her little ceramic weasel across the table in a squiggly dance.
"Chris-miss," she said slowly, and paused there, trying to wrap her mind around the ideas before they squirreled off. "Molly iss haffink a kit? A, a, a baby stoat? Dis bik?" She held up her weasel. "Den der Kinks come and, and, giff t'inks to Molly and baby s-s-stoat and me? Carrow iss a Kink?"
She looked to Ocean for confirmation on this.
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Post by Ladorak on Dec 1, 2011 13:06:53 GMT -5
Ocean listened in as best he could. He tried paying attention, realizing this was one of the topics he'd be actually good at. Nodding every so often as Carrow outlined it for Tally, the ermine eventually had to shake his head.
"No... it's not Molly's kit... I don't even think she's going to have one currently." he explained. "But what Carrow said is all accurate. It was a celebration of the birth of who some see as our savior, and thus, to commemorate it, we all give presents to each other. That's about it." Of course, there were religious divides, and divides between woodlanders and hunters, but that was too complex, and he wouldn't go into it with her right now.
"The kit whose birth we're celebrating has been dead for a very long time. Over a thousand years now..." he said, remembering that the new century would be upon them soon. The 19th Century... how many creatures got to say they lived through a New Year that was also a new century? Probably not many in their lifetime. New Year's Eve 1800 would be a momentuous occasion then, though Ocean probably prefered to celebrate it on New Year's Eve 1799, as 1800 felt more like a milestone than 1801 would. "But he's so important that we celebrate his Birthday every year, by giving each other gifts." he concluded, remembering to at least finish what he had started.
A whole new century... what changes would he witness in his lifetime? Either way, he hoped he was clear enough for Tally, and now that Spender had withdrawn, he was thinking of taking time to himself now... time to head down to the river.
But he was distracted by the arrival of his food, a steaming bowl of linguine and chicken being set down in front of him. His stomach rumbled... and he realized how stupid he was. He was hungry... but also seeing visions of himself drowning. Why should he even bother to eat? But eat he did.
His paws closed around the fork and spoon, and soon he was greedily twirling the pasta around, the smell of the chicken being too much for him to combat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ladorak stood now, rising out of his seat and setting his brandy down. His wife was exposing herself as she thrashed about, though he knew he couldn't worry about that too much just yet.
Caden had nodded to Wilard, and had tried to protest his rising out of the chair, but had been incapable of doing so once Molly start moving and flailing. He too averted his eyes upon getting a rather unexpected view of her. He was right at the baseboard after all, and he didn't wish to be impolite.
A thud sounded as she actually managed to roll out of bed. Ladorak cringed, and immediately moved over to her side, though of course, there was a single thought predominant in his mind. She had said "Blinky". Why? Why him? Had his greatest and deepest fear come to light? Was she still carrying a torch for him, despite her protests to the contrary?
"My god..." he whispered, looking down at her. "Molly..." He knelt down over her, paws reaching out, trembling a little as they tentatively rested on her shoulder and hip. "Can you... hear me?" he asked. "Are you... alright?" His previous thoughts were now forgotten, and all he could think about now was if she was OK, and if there was any lingering damage.
Caden, for his part, turned away, and this brought him looking at Willard, though for the moment, the marten could think of nothing to say. Willard was by the door now, but what could he possibly say? Hey, how's the weather? Hi, what are you doing here? Hello, aren't you supposed to be on the ship? None of it seemed really appropriate, and so the marten just looked at him, shaking his head, almost as if he was sorry about what had happened to Molly, even though it wasn't his fault.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hmmm... I must admit... I don't know too much about Calgary's divisions. I DO know zat Genoa and Venice had a fierce rivalry over who would be ze main port into the continent. Nowadays, both ports service ze continent, and are still ze main gateway to ze continent from ze Mediterranean, as further east is ze Eastern Hordes and Ottoman Empire, and vest is vell... Rosferia and Ferlusan, which have zeir share of vars, and can't be counted on all ze time to provide free trade, like now for example." he reminded the weasel.
"I know zat for avhile, it vas mostly religous differences separating ze city states. Ze Papacy and Medicis dominated things for avhile, but nowadays, it is divided up between powerful families and nations. Like Piedmont-Sardinia. Ze House of Savoy rules zem. Zen Genoa and Venice are both republics, dominated by wealthy guilds and families. Tuscany is a colony of Kostritz. Ze Papacy is still ze Papacy, and Naples and Sicily are both ruled by your royal family, ze Bourbons." the striped polecat looked over at Selvis now. "Mostly due to ze Bourbons gaining many Calgarian lands in ze Var of Ze Kostritz Succession." he outlined. The Bourbons had ruled both Rosferia and Ferlusan, though longer in Rosferia. Louis XIV's grandson had become King of Ferlusan in the War of the Ferlusan Succession, and his family had been on the throne ever since.
"I vish I knew more about ze city states period, but after ze Medicis collapsed, various powers fought for control of Calgary. Kostritz gained its share from ze Var of Ze Ferlusan Succession, and likevise, Ferlusan gained some of its old territory back vith ze Var of Ze Kostritz Succession. Zose two nations have a bitter rivalry here over it." In return for Welkin betraying Kostritz and allowing Louis XIV's grandson to keep his throne, Kostritz got all of Ferlusan's lands in Calgary, but Ferlusan didn't like that much, and regained much of its lost territory when Kostritz started having internal problems in the 1740s which led to a war. Habsburg and Bourbon rivalry was legendary in fact, especially in Calgary, namely due to the Habsburgs losing Ferlusan to the Bourbons. It was no secret that the two families had it out for each other (at least the Ferlusanian Bourbons. The Habsburgs got on better with the Rosferian Bourbons), even in this day, and were only grudging allies with each other in the war against Rosferia.
"Ahhh Hanover zo... zat is a good question. Our capital city is Hanover, and I vas born near to zat city. About a day maybe by carriage. It is very... big... ze capital zat is. It even rivals Serline, zo Serline is bigger. It is very North Germanic in terms of architecture... vich is distinct from South Germanic, like you have in Bavaria and such. It's more... how to describe it... vell Serline has almost very strong Roman influence in it... because of Frederick's love for ze history zere... but Hanover is Hanseatic, is ze only vay I can think to describe it. Very Baltic in architecture... so things like you'd see in Copenhagen, and Scandinavia, but it still has a distinctive Germanic flair as vell." He explained, smiling.
"All ze Baltic ports are alike in zat regard, because zey all used to be part of ze Hanseatic League at vone point. Ve also share similarities vith Mordenz as vell. Ve had Bremen after all, and still do, as our main port. So strange... to think zat you and I are serving ze same monarch. Ze King of Velkin is also ze Elector of Hanover... of all ze coincidences to run into on vacation." he mused aloud, smiling. "Ve sort of see it as a victory for Hanover in a vay, as our Elector became King of Velkin." he said with a wink to the weasel.
"I guess it doesn't completely surprise me zo... as Velkinites ARE originally from Saxony, before ze Rosferians came in." he mused aloud, smiling widely. "Ve see King Poynt as returning Velkin to its native German roots."
"Ve are also very Germanic too, in terms of customs. Oktoberfest and all zat." he commented, chuckling. "However... ve don't really like ze Gradvarians. Ve see zem as aggressive and trying to unify all Germanic creatures, vhen ve see ourselves as independent, and ve are definitely NOT nor ever HAVE been, tied to Brandenburg. Zat is strictly a Gradvarian thing, and ve have no personal ties to ze House of Hohenzollern. Ve may be allies vith zem, but our interests vill alvays be our own." he strictly stated. "Zey are a strong German nation, and vone I considered serving, zo I disagree vith zeir views zat ze German states should be united under zem just as much as I disagree vith Kostritz's views on ze matter. I respect zem you might say, and my vater is considering possibly vorking for zem next, but uniting us? No... not under zeir banner." he shook his head.
"You vould like Hanover I think. Ve are very friendly to Velkinites, and have great food vith lots of meats, great beer, and good looking jills." he said with another wink. "Ve also have a big river, ze Leine, zat runs through our city, much like ze Arno runs through Florence. It gets FANTASTIC in ze vinter! All zis snow on ze trees along ze riverbank. Has zat... at least answered your question?" he asked slowly, realizing he'd gotten a bit more into Hanover's history than Selvis was looking for, but there it was all the same.
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