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Post by Ladorak on Nov 16, 2010 23:36:38 GMT -5
"Well these...are going to help protect your eyes Caden." Ladorak held up a strange set of glasses for the albino to look over.
"But I don't wear glasses Ladorak."
"You'll need these...trust me. The sun is far too bright here for your eyes Caden...and you might end up damaging them if you aren't careful. They'll protect your eyes...and keep your vision safe. So here...now...you'll look just a tad like me..." the stoat Captain fitted the the glasses (which were not pince nezs) over the marten's snout and ears.
"Wow! It's all...black!" he exclaimed, raising his paw up to his face. Ladorak pulled back, smiling a bit.
"Well keep them on...they'll shield your eyes. They aren't really in style...and well...generally only reserved for beasts with certain medical conditions (like Syphilis, he didn't actually say) but...I'd say you qualify." Caden turned to look at himself in a mirror, and was surprised at the sight. His pink eyes were...covered! By black tinted lenses no less! "They're sunglasses...though as said, they aren't really in style save for those with medical conditions. That's all anyone really has to know about them though. Now...about Tunis..."
Ladorak knelt down beside his ward, straightening his shirt out a bit in a fussing manner. The stoat, who was almost all white thanks to his molt, save for some very dull brown splotches on his backside, wore a concerned frown. "Tunis isn't like the ports you've visited so far. It's...very lawless...yet at the same time with a STRICT adherence to values that keep out things like prostitution and gambling, yet welcome things like slavery and mutilation. The only law is a very tentative hold that the Bey has over the city...the Bey being the sort of...well it's hard to explain. The Eastern Hordes conquered much of the coastline as they moved west across this continent...and they set up domains with governors to rule them...Deys, Beys, Pashas and Sultans. The Bey is like a chieftain...but in charge of a city. He's the one I'll be dealing with in my discussions...much as I'm going to hate it..." he muttered, glancing out the stern windows at the Rosferian 74 gun warship that rode easy at anchor in the harbor.
"If it were up to me...I'd attack that warship where she sits, and say the hell with the Bey, and his small nation." he bared his fangs, feeling the ire at having his quarry so close and yet so far. Their mission was to destroy that Rosferian warship...the only one to not have been in port when they seized Toulon. They had tracked her down...and here she was...in a neutral harbor...for which they needed permission to attack her, shore batteries or no shore batteries.
"Are things...OK dad? I mean...with you and Molly?"
"As well as can be expected..." Ladorak responded, patting his pocket with the ring still in it. He'd propose...soon...just wanted a more romantic location than Tunis to do it. "Look Caden...Tunis is dangerous. I don't recommend going into town for very long. You should be safe...but they have a very different philosophy of life here. They're very backward...and believe everyone should worship the god they worship...and if not...they turn you into a slave. We've...bombarded their harbors in order to get their piracy under control. They sail out and take prisoners as slaves, as they believe they're in a holy war with everyone but themselves, and they just...they're different from us OK? Desert nomads who swept out of the cradle of civilization to conquer these shores...they've only recently agreed to our treaties...so just keep that in mind. They're wild...desperadoes in a way...just....please be careful...OK? I don't want anything to happen to you." he stated, giving the marten albino a firm hug.
"OK Ladorak...dad...I will. I promise."
"Good...now get out there and join your friends. I'm sure they're waiting for you." Ladorak ushered the marten on his way, and the albino exited the Captain's cabin into the broad daylight (blazing in fact) of the main deck. He was immediately thankful for the sun glasses, as he would have been blinded had he not been wearing them, being extra sensitive to bright light after all. The heat itself wasn't really an issue, as it was a comfortable 60 something degrees Fahrenheit or so, being nice and breezy along the coast, plus, the weather was helped by the fact that it was November, one of the cooler months for Tunis. The sun was simply a lot closer here than it was over Welkin, and Caden definitely needed these tinted glasses.
In the summer time, when Ladorak would not have been in his molting coat, Tunis was a balmy 90 to 110 degrees, but right now it wasn't so bad, being in the mid 60s...which was nevertheless unseasonably warm for anywhere but these coasts. Welkin would be at least 20 degrees cooler this time of year. Caden could hardly believe it in fact. It felt like...Spring.
He wandered over to the gunwale, looking out at the walled city. Palm trees dotted the streets and shoreline, and had fronds that blew in the breeze. The air was dry...not hot...just dry. All the buildings looked like they were part of the desert itself, though desert wasn't an appropriate term. It wasn't quite the Sahara Desert due to the presence of the ocean...making it more chaparral in that case, with low, scrubby bushes and plants that popped up here and there. It could be very beautiful around lake sides, where wild flowers and plants grew abundantly, but it was really just a step below a full blown desert.
"Hoo..." Caden let out a soft whistle. Towers and minarets dotted the skyline, and he realized this was very different from both Crittenden and Naples. A whole new world...one he wasn't sure he fully cared for. It wasn't too bad...but stories Ladorak told him made him think twice about enjoying this "vacation" spot. It was dangerous, with petty crime rife in the streets and the law of the city said they could cut your paws off for simple theft...in other words...it was highly different from Welkin. Molly would probably despise this place...as females were required to be completely covered from ear tip to tail tip, and were more second class citizens than anything.
Religious zealotry combined with near lawlessness...what a culture! Caden shook his head, waiting at the gang plank for his friends to show up, as he knew they invariably would.
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Post by spender on Nov 17, 2010 8:18:49 GMT -5
Willard stood, leaning against—and yet somehow clinging to, as if he might collapse—the gunwale opposite the gangplank. He'd tried... He'd honestly tried to go nearer, but he just couldn't. It was as if the gangplank extended from where it was, a black hole that swallowed up half the deck. As he had moved about earlier, he'd skirted it at a distance, afraid that if he entered the imaginary circle around the plank, that he might get sucked in, never to return. Already it had taken Spender and Peskers; the ferrets had been one of the first ones to tumble off into the unknown. Their sudden friendship was an absolute mystery to Willard, who had witnessed them fight over every meal for the past several weeks. One minute fighting, the next minute, giggling like schoolkits over something or other... weird.
The weasel was in quite the state. He usually was, but this time even moreso. His paws were slick and dripping with sweat, which he'd attempted to wipe through his headfur, giving himself the appearance that someone had come up from behind and dumped a bucket of water over him. Every time he raised his eyes past the railing of the ship to look at the land or the city, his neck bristled, and an unwitting growl rose in his throat. He hated land! He hated ports! Hated, hated, hated them!
They were necessary. He knew that. Supplies came from land. Wood came from land. Food came from land. It was just...
Couldn't there be another kind of ship that took these things out, so ships like Ags wouldn't have to spend so much time sailing into harbours? What if she hit something? A reef, or a dock, or one of those stone wharfs, or another ship?
Another ship...
Weasels don't usually bark. At least, not in Willard's experience. He'd never barked before. Growl, yes. Cute little "rar" noises, yes. But bark? Like a fox? What had come over him? The moment he'd seen that Rosferian vessel, he'd started going feral. He'd had to excuse himself to the gun room and curl up by clutching his footpaws. If he was allowed to take out his hammock, he might have gone over his collection, fondling each strange bit of knick-knack he'd found, somehow finding comfort in his little treasures and each one's different textures and shapes...
It was getting harder to hide them. His blanket could only hold so much before it grew too lumpy to roll up. And in the mornings, the only thing that saved him being found out was that the rest of the crew were busy putting their own bedding away, and most of them were too bleary-eyed to see. Not that he himself wasn't also.
He had gotten very used to operating in close quarters without his glasses. The blurry shapes gave him a headache after a while, but they were better than shutting his eyes—though he was sure he could function totally blind as well. Once you knew where things were, how hard was it to miss them? He could clean his plate without spilling a single pea, without peeking once. He didn't understand why it was that Spender, with his manic eyes wide open, somehow managed to put pees in every place but his mouth.
So now the weasel was waiting. As he always did when sufficient break time allowed, he was planning on reading, studying up for exams. Again, he wanted to ask Caden permission to borrow the marten's books. But... something was different this time.
Willard wasn't sure he really needed to ask permission. In fact, the idea had wormed into his head that maybe, just maybe, it was better not to ask. Just take the books. Caden would never know! They'd be back in their place by the time he returned, and none the wiser. Except Willard, who would be wiser for having read them. It wasn't stealing, just borrowing without consent. That wasn't bad, right? And he wouldn't be bothering Caden with a stupid question that of course the marten would say yes to. It wasn't like asking Spender if he could borrow his chess set.
Yeah... he wouldn't bother Caden about it. He'd just wait until the pine marten had gone away with the others, and then snea—no, not sneak. Just go down there normally, because he was allowed to, and take one of the books! It would be fine!
Smiling nervously, the weasel disengaged from the gunwale and toddled off towards the hatchway. His arms felt like pudding for some reason, and his knees knocked together like branches in a stiff wind. He wiped his paws on his cheeks, the only dry place he could find. It just wouldn't do to get his slops all mucky...
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Post by Carrow on Nov 17, 2010 18:08:39 GMT -5
Cerinus Apodemus would probably have already been there awaiting the arival of his best friend if not for certain turmoil he was enduring at that particular moment. He lay slumped against the side of the ship, sobbing quietly to himself, hoping there was nobeast nearby to hear him. The rodent was feeling terribly homesick. A letter lay nearby, one he had read once again before placing it next to him as a wave of sadness swept over him. It read thusly;
Dearest Carrow,
You've no need to worry about me. I'm back working again, in my preferred capacity as a hypnotist - as I'm sure you'll be glad to hear! I'm running a small business out of the house: reasonably priced, of course, but I'm getting about as many customers as I can pawdle at the moment. Things are going rather well, though it's still strange not having you here. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it, you know.
Glad to hear you're enjoying life aboard the Agamemnon. There's nothing that would be worse for me than to hear that you weren't enjoying your time away from Welkin's shores. I know you might still struggle to sleep at nights, but my advice is just do the best you can with self-hypnosis. Have you ever heard of the staircase method? The idea is to train your eyes on the pendant and imagine youself standing at the top of a staircase. You count down from ten to one, focusing on the feelings of relaxation washing over you, and then, if you're doing it right, you should feel sufficiently relaxed to fall into a peaceful sleep.
I'm pleased that you've made friends like that. They seem quite loyal companions - and I'm delighted to hear about Selvis. See? It won't be so bad after all, not now that you can think of me any time things are getting you down. I'm sure your companions are helping you. I'm pleased for you, Carrow. You have such firm friends. Remember that for always. They'll never let you down, and if I know you anywhere near as well as I think I do, you'll do anything for them.
I'm so happy to hear from you again. My little mouse is growing up. It's your thirteenth birthday next month. I can scarcely believe it. I hope you have the most enjoyable birthday possible. Life seems to be treating you rather well, and there is nothing that makes me more content than this. You're safe and well, and this makes me feel even better. You've found happiness now, my dearest. I can sleep easier at nights knowing you're OK now, Carrow. Take care, and I hope to hear from you as soon as possible.
May the seasons rest easily upon you, Archia.
There was another letter visible, though this one was clutched tightly in the upset wood mouse's paw. His sadness was nothing like the unfathomable despair he had been prone to in the past - indeed, similar bouts were becoming less and less frequent - but it had never quite hit him just how far away from his carer he had gone until the aftermath of the battle. He'd kept an admirable stiff upper lip about it for as long as he could, but in the end he'd had to cry, and cry he did. He didn't notice the approach of his weasel companion.
Selvis Frenata stole silently up on the field mouse, whose brown eyes were red-rimmed from his tears. He'd seen Carrow sitting by himself and trembling, and the kind-hearted weasel had decided to come to his aid. The first thing the rodent knew of the mustelid's presence was when a familiar, comforting arm was draped around his shoulders, and he heard the long-tailed weasel's soft, accented voice in his ears. "There, there, Carrow... it's alright... don't cry anymore...," Selvis urged softly, crouching and scanning the letter held in his friend's shaking paw:
Dear Archie,
You're working again? As a hypnotist? Good grief! You really seem to have fallen on your paws... relatively speaking of course. I hope the job is treating you well - wouldn't want to be wearing yourself out whilst helping others to relax, now would you?! That'd be rather ironic, as I'm sure you realise. I knew that if you went back to work it wouldn't be as a painter, even though I remember loving those portraits you drew of me when I was younger. You were so talented as an artist! It seems you've found your true calling in a completely different kind of 'art', however. Best of luck!
Now, I don't want you getting upset, but we had our first battle last month! We won, though not by much. It was Rosferians we tangled with. We did a number on them, but they did their best to cripple the Eggs'n'Bacon. She seems to be shipshape again. The thrill of combat is something I'd never have believed I would experience - not that I'm eagerly anticipating the next one of course. You know me, after all: I tend to stay away from violence of any kind unless absolutely necessary, though any violence I do take part in will end up being necessary from here on out.
I'm sleeping better at nights, too. Caden (who has become my best friend in recent months, I'm sure you'll be glad to hear!) picked up a nice little hypnotic trinket for my birthday when I was in Naples! It's a silver pocket watch affixed to a chain... and there's a spiral beneath its cover, a black and white one! It's been useful, to say the least. Some nights I may not sleep anywhere near as much as I might like to, but then again I've always been like that. Things have been easier though, since I finally spoke to someone - Elliot - about what happened to me five years ago. It's a weight off my shoulders, I can tell you.
Selvis, thoughtful weasel that he is, picked up a magpie pendant for me whilst in Naples. He said it was something else I could remember you by. How very kind of him. You're on my mind a lot these days - I never thought I'd miss Welkin, but I'm feeling strangely homesick, and it's mainly because of how much I miss you. It's been so long... It does me good to hear from you again, but there are some nights where I miss you almost more than I can bear. I'll be alright though - hopefully. I'll keep this staircase method of yours in mind, and I'll try to stay strong. For both of us.
Yours, in affection, Cerinus.
"Homesickness, Carrow?," the friendly Ferlusanian queried. His mouse companion nodded wordlessly, unshed tears brightening his eyes. The blue-eyed longtail removed a pawkerchief and dabbed gently at Carrow's eyes. "Don't worry, little mousey," he said soothingly, smiling at his companion. "It'll soon pass, I'm quite sure of it. You're going to be just fine. Think of how proud Archie would be of you. I'm sure that makes you smile, right?" Having finished drying the rodent's tears, he took his paws and helped him to stand. Wrapping his dear friend in a brief, yet heartfelt hug, he ruffled his ears gently, knowing how fond Carrow was of that sort of treatment.
The wood mouse sniffed audibly, but his weasel companion's almost omnipresent good humour was infectious, and he found himself smiling just as his friend had suggested. He was almost as enchanting as she had been back home! "You're right," he responded softly, his downheartedness beginning to lift, though it was clear he was still under the weather slightly, "I wonder what she'd think if she knew I was here? In a place like this? Religious zealotry." He sighed, shaking his head. "Oh dear. That can't be good. I mean, this lot can pray to whatever deity they want, but they will not be forcing their beliefs on me."
Selvis patted his shoulder. "Oh? Not a fan of organised religion are we?" He chuckled. "I don't see what the fuss is about either. Way I see it, I know for certain that I have one life, so I'm going to make the best of it. I don't think there's a world beyond this one. I'm a logical creature and such a notion just doesn't seem to hold water. Oh, but I'm not going to discuss this with you!" He grinned. "Not when we seem to have beliefs running along the same lines - or a lack of belief in this case," he punned, beaming at his friend. "Right! Come on then, let's go see what Caden and Elliot are up to. If Spender's there too, well, so be it."
The rodent was feeling quite a lot better, and the prospect of spending time in the company of all three of his companions - and one creature of whom he thought as an 'acquaintance' (not a friend, but certainly not an enemy) - cheered him further. Mouse and weasel were soon headed for the gunwale, where the familiar sight of the albino marten greeted them. They jogged up to Caden, Selvis smiling broadly and Carrow looking a little more subdued, but no longer sad. "Hello there, matey!," the mouse exclaimed, delighted to see his friend, but unable to hide the telltale signs of his earlier distress. He sniffled slightly after he'd finished speaking. "S-sorry... just been thinking of home a lot lately..."
Selvis glanced at Caden. There was something different about him... ah yes, the sunglasses! The albino wouldn't have been able to survive in this climate without them. He smiled. "Nice sunglasses," he said gently. "They suit you rather well, I think!"
Carrow found his gaze drawn to them as well. He wouldn't lower his head in front of his best friend no matter how out-of-sorts he felt. He held the marten's gaze through the protective sunglasses, acknowledging them as he did his best to shake off his low moment from before. "I agree. They're quite fetching, you could say!" For the first time in a while, the rodent chuckled, smiling a little more widely now as he waited for his companion's response.
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Post by Ladorak on Nov 17, 2010 22:41:44 GMT -5
Caden turned upon hearing the pawsteps of his approaching friends. He knew it was them from the very light steps of Carrow who, being a mouse, did not have a very heavy step like the rest of the mustelids. He leaned with his back to the gunwale, fore arms resting easily on it, studying his approaching comrades as they drew nearer to him.
His pink eyes were hidden behind the tinted glasses, and he frowned a bit at seeing Carrow's state. Oh no...another bad day was it? Maybe they shouldn't go into town after all...such a place as this caused more than a little consternation, he had to admit. The breeze blew through his fur, and he chewed his lower lip a tad as the two approached. "Did the battle throw you off or something?" the marten asked, stopping himself as he heard what was the real deal. The battle had been about a week ago now, so it was still fresh in their minds.
"Oh...home. Well...you're lucky you got one to go back to." he pushed off from the gunwale now, smiling briefly at Selvis's compliment. "Thanks...both of you. I really do need them...sun could damage my eyes. Hey Carrow..."
Caden figured he may as well make conversation while they waited for Elliot. "Yeah...I know. Could be years before we go back home...but at least you're keeping your home shores safe. Naval dominance means our island nation is safe from attack. Welkin's army is not very large...so having a strong navy means everything. You are playing a part. You're keeping your homestead safe. Me?" he swallowed here, looking up at the mainmast with a serious expression.
"I don't have a home. This ship...this is my home. I got nothing to go back to...and I've gotten rather used to life like this. Sailing the seas...exploring new lands...it's a nice way to forget about what I left behind. We'll go back to Welkin...someday. Not sure when. Just keep that hope alive. You'll see your home shore again. I have nothing to go back to because aside from Ladorak, I had nothing starting out. So I want to stay with him as long as possible. But you'll see your home again." the marten said, offering a small smile as he leaned back on the gunwale with his right arm, turning his head to look at the mouse.
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Post by Carrow on Nov 18, 2010 6:04:27 GMT -5
"I think it was the battle that finally brought home to me... well, how fragile life is. I really can't help thinking about it. Things have changed so much for me even in the last few weeks," he replied softly. "Mainly for the better."
He gave Caden a small smile, not sure whether he could quite go through with what he was planning. This would be like ripping bandages off a wound: it would hurt, but only for a small while. But first he had to say a little more, and so he did.
"I'm alright, honestly. You don't need to worry, either of you," he addressed his companions. "I'm just sure what to think about all this. I'm thinking about Archie a lot recently. I read her letter, and she tells me things are going well for now - but that was three months ago.
"Things have this... habit of not working out for us. I'm more concerned about *her*, than I am about the possibility of not seeing her again. She's the only thing I left behind that I want to come back for, but I hope she can get by with her new occupation. She's moved back into hypnotism."
He smiled a little. "I long to see her again. I've been feeling homesick even though I know there's only one creature back there who cares for me." He sighed, shrugging. "You're probably right though, we're going to see Welkin again. Whether that's in five years or whenever... we have to. We just have to."
Selvis could see something in his mouse companion's eyes. He was about to say something, but the rodent got in there first. "Before I say anything else... I have to show you two something that there's no point in me keeping silent about any longer. Just quickly."
Carrow removed his shirt and turned around with his back to his companions so they could see the scar that blighted his lower back. "I've been meaning to show you two this for a while. This is something I've had for five years now. You recall me saying that I was bullied in school?"
Selvis was more shocked than anything else. He paled a little as he studied the long, thin laceration that ran diagonally over his lower back. He shook his head. "Oh, Carrow...," he murmured. "I had no idea... I can't believe things like this happen to creatures like you - you didn't deserve to be targeted like that..."
"This happens to 'creatures like me', alright," the wood mouse replied, "ones who are perceived as small and weak. I was pretty much left for dead by a group of bullies. I showed Elliot this before the battle properly started. I needed to get that off my chest to somebeast. Anybeast at all. Now I have, it's easier for me to talk about this.
"I didn't want to break down crying in front of the two of you, in particular - it's why I had to tell him first, but even then it was almost too much. I'm only able to tell you now. This is one of the reasons I've been having those back problems, see," he admitted, looking between his two companions. "They didn't hurt anywhere near as much as having to keep this secret did, but, well... now it's out there. Now you all know what happened."
Rather importantly, it could be seen that when the wood mouse turned back to face his friends he was dry-eyed. He was trying desperately to hold himself together, even if - for once - thinking of what had occurred wasn't building up an urge to cry within him. He didn't want to cry at all if he could help it. What had happened, had had happened, and he saw no point in letting it overwhelm him again.
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Post by bookity101 on Nov 19, 2010 18:34:07 GMT -5
Elle was just finishing up in the sail room and was getting ready to head out when Sail stopped ‘him with a paw on his shoulder.
“Elliot me lad, ya goin’ ashore?” Elliot looked up at the aged rat, nodding as she moved to shield her eyes from the sun. “Yeah, my friends and I are gonna sight see… but not for long I think.” She felt a headache coming on from the glaring light. Though she had made sure to drink some water before they docked as she really didn’t feel like having to stop and find a place to buy a drink… but she worried a little about the heat, remembering what had happened last time it had gotten extremely warm around her, and she hoped today wouldn’t be a repeat of then… or worse.
“’ere Lad, take this.” Elle felt more than saw her eye’s being blocked by something rather soft and floppy. “Ah’m not gonna be goin’ ashore this time around, Ah’m getting to old ta be runnin’ around in heat like this. Go on, have some fun.” Elle grinned at the old beast and waved thank you as she trotted off to meet with her friends at the gangplank. Sail shook his head at the swift youth. He had seen many seasons, and many battles in his time, but there was something about this stripling that made him want to keep a closer eye on him, well, her. He may be old, but unlike the many officers on the ship, he paid attention to the beasts around him. Not that he made mention of it, he believed in leaving well enough alone when it came to others and their secrets… He shook his head as he made his way to the lower decks to escape the heat… Younglings and their stamina…
Elle jogged up behind them, and then stopped. She saw Carrow lifting his shirt enough to showcase his scars, with a smile she moved forward and wrapped a paw around his shoulders.
“About time you told them mousey.” A gentle smile filled her features as she stepped back and nodded to her friends.
“So are we ready to go?”
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Post by Ladorak on Nov 19, 2010 23:24:47 GMT -5
Caden's face sank, as he wasn't really expecting this. It wasn't hot enough to remove his shirt...it was quite comfortable in fact, even with the bright sun. But Carrow was opting to do this for quite the different reason. Instead he was showing off scars...had the injuries somehow left him with a weak back? Scarring alone wouldn't cause that...it was just toughened skin after all, collagen.
It made Caden question inwardly Carrow's decision to join the navy in the first place. Was he really cut out for life at sea after all? What if he suffered some injury he couldn't recover from? From something seemingly simple too. He'd passed out after a scratch last year after all...no...it was earlier this year. Almost a year ago true, but still earlier this year nonetheless.
Falling on his back seemed to have the same effect, requiring medical attention when most beasts would simply have the wind knocked out of them. "I see..." the marten said, nodding in an understanding manner, though it was hard to tell as his eyes were hidden by the tinted glasses. He felt like he was hiding his identity in a way, using the glasses to cover up his eyes. He'd need them though for this city...this latitude. He knew that much.
Caden still had plenty of his own secrets...some of which he wasn't sure he could ever open up about. None fortunately that were too dark...they were just personal. That, and he didn't believe in making himself fully vulnerable...part of his wretched upbringing after all.
He looked up to see Elliot approaching now. They had all made it through their previous battle without a scratch...much to Caden's delight. It was good to see them all here. "Yeah...just about ready I'd say. Time to eat some real food...not that I'm complaining about our meals...it's just nice to get some local cuisine every once in a while." the albino admitted, and lead the way down the gangplank.
They were on a palm tree lined street, and little did they know, but they happened to be visiting Tunis during one of its cleaner moments in history, as the new regime was working on cleaning up the streets and modernizing the city, though of course the ancient parts still existed. "I thought it'd be hotter." the marten admitted, smiling a bit to himself. "I'm glad it's not...rather comfortable this time of year I suppose." he said, enjoying the relatively cool mid 60 degree weather.
"I heard this place has a long history...goes back thousands of years. Used to wage war with the old empire that was based in Calgary. Some guy...Hannibal I think...he was from here...used elephants against Calgary, and tried to cross the Alps. Beat them up pretty good...but didn't win the wars. This place got sacked...wiped out. Then the Eastern Hordes came in and took over. Been that way ever since." the marten informed his companions.
"You ever been outside your country Selvis? You're from a country with climate that's sort of similar to this place right? Well at least the southern half is. I heard the southern part of your nation was overrun with these guys for awhile...until the 15th Century...well before your time, when your people finally kicked them out and back onto their own continent." he commented, looking all around him at the manic scene playing before him. It seemed there were several bazaars on the streets, every so many hundred feet or so. Shop vendors in stalls, calling out to try and attract buyers. It was similar to their continent...but a little different. For one, there weren't nearly as many vendors back home as there were here. Here...it seemed like EVERY doorway was filled with some sort of stand selling something or other. Fruits, robes, carpets, jewelry, silk, hats, shirts and a plethora of other things.
Their tongue was something foreign to him...it was gregarious and very rapid, and seemed to be guttural in tone. This language had been brought to them by the Hordes...it wasn't the original tongue. "You ever been to a place like this?" he asked the long tailed weasel, looking over at him.
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Post by spender on Nov 20, 2010 6:05:34 GMT -5
Things had been looking up for Molly Serra. True, she was no closer to verbally expressing her emotions, but at least she'd managed to convey through more physical means that that was a bridge they could cross at some later date. Why move on to the next continent of a relationship, when you'd barely explored the beaches and forests of the first one? Love was a journey not to be rushed. You could find diamond by digging down where you stand at the start; no need to search the world over for a mountain cave to take you straight to a vein of it.*
Lately, every time she felt low, all she had to do was look back to where she'd been. Burning the wheels on her fish cart to survive one more night of Imperium winter... how could that possibly compare to this?
Fishnet tail stockings!
It was a beautiful day. Cool, bright, and air unlike she'd ever felt. Every breath was a tickle, like sliding a feather inside her ear canal. The fuzzy, fluffy tip gave one sensation, and then a good scrape with the stem gave you quite another.
She would have to leave Little Lad. And Miri's flail. And pretty much all of her weapons, for that matter... pretty much.
She kept the leather cosh. It was much smaller than Miri's baton, but having discovered it amongst her luggage, she was excited to give it another try. She'd never quite gotten used to them in Bully Harbour, though more or less everybeast whose job involved physical pain (and the ceasing thereof) carried one, legal or not (though it probably was.)
To add some skwik to her thwump, she also slipped a knife somewhere inside the folds of her clothing. Speaking of folds...
Molly stuck to the colours she knew she wore well, red and black. She kept her usual black lace gloves, but replaced her usual dress with something much simpler, and more severe: A thin, black skirt that swept the deck around her footpaws. It appeared to hug her legs, but on closer inspection, that was just the wind. The skirt actually offered a good amount of freedom. She had others just like it, in grey and brown—those she called her fighting clothes. For her top, she chose red, plain, simple, deep red, not as dark as blood or wine, not even quite as dark as a rose, but something brighter, as the red of Welkin's flag. Not content with a simple long-sleeved shirt, Molly had done something to this piece of clothing to give it the appearance of half a dozen scarves wrapped continuously about her; up from her neck to her waist, the curves and lines sagged and folded in upon themselves, creating pockets, twisting in and out, yet never once tangling or shifting to reveal anything beneath, and yet, not looking highly uncomfortable either. It had to have been no more than one or two layers thick, and appeared to be made out of cotton. The arms, once past the frills of the shoulders, smoothed out, ending at her wrists where they overlayered her gloves.
Her hat she had stolen from Carmen Sandiego's closet.**
So that was her ensemble; designed to mix the movement and elegance of the dance floor with the swiftness and intensity of battle; the kind of design only Molly could come up with.
She was very much ready to do some mischief.
Leaning against Ladorak's shoulder, she playfully toyed with his whiskers, curling them around her claws.
"Those look cute on him," she said slyly, in reference to the sunglasses he had provided Caden with. "D'you have any spares? I bet I could make them fashionable..."
* ((Not the first, and not the last Minecraft reference I'll be making. XD))
** Oddly, this is not noted in the game Where in Alternate-Universe Napoleonic Europe is Carmen Sandiego? In fact, it also completely fails to mention how Molly also helped her steal Marat's bathtub.
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Post by Carrow on Nov 20, 2010 10:49:59 GMT -5
Carrow had indeed needed to get that out in the open, and it was a weight off his shoulders, just as he'd said, but this had set him thinking about his own physical inadequacy. He was sure that no creature his age should still be this weak. The mouse had always had the impression that there was something wrong him that had made him like this. He'd never had the chance to ask Archie about this, so he couldn't yet know for sure, but he was sure that all was not well with him.
His balance problems... his back problems... he was even unable to lift weights that most other creatures could pawdle with little difficulty. There were some times when he'd thought that his deficiencies had had little or nothing to do with the abuse he'd suffered in school, but then he'd rubbished such assumptions just as quickly as they'd come into his head. Of course that was why they'd made things even worse for him! He'd never been one to fit in anywhere - so he stuck out, through no fault of his own, and thus was made a target.
He'd never been taught to stand up for himself like Caden had. He'd never even tried to do it himself, because he was sure it was another thing he'd fail miserably at. From what he had seen, those who tried to stand up for themselves had to have the physical presence to help them do so, or they got their lights punched out. Carrow never had, and most likely never would. He'd known this for so long that it had ceased to trouble him, more a dull ache in his chest than anything else by now.
Regardless of how he felt, however, he smiled. At Selvis. At Elliot when the beech marten but an arm around his shoulders. No matter how bad this was making him feel, he knew he couldn't dwell on it. Now was not the time for self-hatred. His most beaming smile was reserved for Caden. Why should I ever feel down when I'm with you?, he thought. When you're around... I don't know how to explain it, but things seem so much brighter for me. You're the kind of creature who lights up a room when you walk in. Me, well... I'm just me. Plain old Cerinus Apodemus - and I know I might never be anything else.
"Local cuisine, oh yes," Selvis repeated, smiling as the four companions set off. "I've been wanting to try such things since we set off from Naples. I'm with you about our own food, Caden: it can't really be complained about, but for me one of the best things about travelling like this is the food! I like trying new things, certainly in that department..." With impeccable comic timing, his stomach rumbled, and he left the sentence unfinished, realising he didn't need to say anything else.
"The weather's pleasant," Carrow remarked, finding himself able to speak again as he loosened up. "I certainly agree with you on that one, Caden!," he exclaimed, smiling still. "We'd probably roast in a place like this if we were here any other part of the year. Well, some of us would," he added, smirking as he glanced up at Selvis. The weasel, in response, patted his rodent companion's shoulder, glad to see him in a more cheerful mood again.
"It'd only be a slight adjustment for me," he admitted, smiling a little himself. "If there's anything I'm not entirely used to, it's weather like this. Fifteen degrees and cool? From what I understand that'd be a perfectly reasonable day in Welkin," he quipped, chuckling. "I could certainly get used to it, though. I've experienced no other climate than my own so far, and things tend to be on the more extreme side in Crittenden. We Ferlusanins don't get moderate days, mates," he told them, eyes shining slightly, "it's either the kind of weather that would cook you or freeze you solid!," he told his Welkinite companions.
"That answers your question, Caden," he called over to the albino marten. "Before I joined the Agamemnon a few months ago I had never been to a foreign country. There was always a lot to do in Ferlusan, so if we travelled it was usually around the country. Naples was my first experience of another way of life - so it's safe to say I've never quite been anywhere like this. We had some 'issues', shall we say, with this lot back then," he commented ironically, downplaying the events, as he was wont to do, "but as you said, we drove them out. This is like nothing I've ever even seen before, though. It's rather vibrant, to say the least."
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Post by Ladorak on Nov 20, 2010 23:58:40 GMT -5
Ladorak was busy getting dressed as well, Molly standing directly behind him. He was mostly just straightening his waistcoat and making sure the buttons all matched. As soon as her claws met his whiskers though, a shudder traveled down his spine. Shove looking good! He only needed to look good because he was heading to the palace...but why? Who cared about these barbarians? And why spend his day playing diplomat?
"Oh do they?" he asked, leaning back into her a bit. "I guess I thought they looked a little odd...but in a way...perhaps if he were sitting in some coffeehouse back in Welkin they might look good. Fashionable you say? Unfortunately...I think that's all I have. But I'm sure we could find some in town...speaking of which...I feel like stuffing this diplomatic visit. I mean why is it my job to do this? Commodore Linzee is here after all...let him take care of it. He should be the official representative and besides...Agamemnon isn't the only ship in his squadron. He's got his own Alcide, Courageous, and the Ardent after all. What's he need me for? I'm just the fourth gear here...though I feel more like the fifth gear. I have every hankering to just attack the Duquesne myself" he said, baring his fangs.
Doo-cane was his pronunciation of the Rosferian warship currently lying at anchor here. "And let the diplomacy be shoved. I don't care...I want to spend the day with you...I want to spend time with you...and I think that's just what I'm going to do. No work...no acting as envoy...Commodore Linzee and Captains Matthews, Sutton, and Woodley can pawdle that. What am I needed for?" the stoat muttered, rolling his eyes.
"So I say to the pits with that! I want to spend my day with you. That is...if it would suffice." he asked, doing a small turn so that he could face her now, smiling all the while.
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Caden nodded, taking it all in. "How about the two of you? Elliot...you strike me as a traveler...I don't know why. Maybe you just seem so comfortable with all the places we've visited. You ever left Welkin before this? Your sister said something about your parents owning a boat I think...so did you ever travel with them?" the marten inquired.
"Carrow...no offense but you definitely did not strike me as the traveling type." the marten went on. "You seem very homey, and grounded in his place. Must have been quite the change huh? Well...provided I'm right." the albino quickly suppressed a grin. "Oh! This place looks good!" it was an outdoor restaurant, away from the stench and noise of the vendors. They had come across it on their trek through the streets, and the first thing Caden noticed was the absence of any alcoholic beverages of any kind on the menu. So the stories were true then. They were really strict on certain things.
Caden wasn't sure what Eastern Horde cuisine would taste like, but he most certainly wanted to try it! "What do you say lads? This place?" he asked, standing at the entrance.
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