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Post by Carrow on Dec 9, 2010 6:21:16 GMT -5
It was with a pained expression on his features that Selvis realised that Elle was as good as useless in her current state. She was almost completely out of it, half-conscious and confused just like Carrow had been earlier. The weasel certainly would have loved her company, but if she couldn't go on, he knew he couldn't stay behind with her.
He had to rescue Caden after all. Just as he'd said, he wasn't going to rest until the pine marten was back safe amongst his companions. So the longtail knew what he had to do. "Certainly," he said softly, tip-pawing over to the dizzy beech marten, making sure to be very careful with his movements, and waiting until the moment was right to put his arms about her waist and lift her.
The mustelid was disappointed with the outcome of things. He had of course been hoping that Elle would have been able to carry on through her suffering, but it was not to be. Sighing slightly, he turned and headed back to the ship, murmuring gently in the tired marten's ear."Do you want anybeast to stay with you?," he asked soothingly, knowing she would appreciate company. "I, at least, have to do this, but everybeast else here could look after you."
Selvis looked around him, at the sea of anxious faces and at the unconscious form of Carrow. So that was two down, he thought. He could have wept. He really could have started crying then and there in front of all his friends. There was nothing he wanted more than to bring Caden back, as safe as he could be, but he had no clue where to begin, and this troubled him a great deal.
Suddenly, a voice rose up from the Sylvaticus clan, and the large hazel eyes of Artivis shimmered slightly as he stepped forward. "Er... er... I could stay behind if you wanted me to, Selvis," he offered in a small voice. He liked Elliot. He was definitely in need of a presence as comforting as the beech marten's at this point. He hardly knew Caden, but the rodent was thinking of him a lot.
The longtail nodded in satisfaction, and he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Alright, up you come, then," he said kindly. "I could see how well you two were getting along back there. I'm sure he'll be delighted to have you there. " Then, for Elle's benefit (as he was unsure whether or not the marten was all there at the moment), he spoke gently into her ear again. "Hear that? Artivis is going to stay with you!"
Raising his voice again, the weasel addressed Willard. "How about you, Willard? Will you be coming with Eviros, Setiva and myself, or do you want to stay behind too? I leave that entirely up to you, of course." He looked at the assembled mice down below. "I'm going to set Elliot up, down below, and once he's settled I'll come back here and we can get going, alright?" The rescue party nodded, Setiva smiling at the retreating form of Selvis as the weasel made his way onto the deck.
She thought he was pawdling things in quite a businesslike manner, and indeed, Selvis was doing his best to sort things out, but his heart was still aflame with worry. He could only hope the only kind of anguish being inflicted on Caden was that of the inevitable mental variety. Of course he'd be scared, but Selvis wished fervently that this would be the extent of his suffering.
Carefully taking the stairs down to the lower gun deck (a very particular place in his mind), Selvis listened to the soft pawsteps of Artivis as the wood mouse tagged along behind. That creature, he thought, he's charming in his own way. Loyal and caring, too: something that seems to run in both sides of that family. The longtail spotted a cannon once he reached his destination, and made straight for it.
Just as carefully, he set Elle down and placed her against it. "Alright... there we are. You can rest against that," he said gently. Fixing the marten with his sparkling, comforting, blue-eyed gaze, he patted her cheek slightly. "You'll have good company here. Artivis, and Willard too if he decides to stay put. Rest assured Caden's going to be back with us before long..." If I have anything to do with it, he will be. "Close your eyes and sleep now, Elliot," he coaxed, "you'll feel better for it."
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Post by spender on Dec 10, 2010 7:35:52 GMT -5
Willard flinched as Artivis called to him. Come down? Why? Couldn't they come up? He would have thought Carrow, of all beasts, knew of what it was like for Willard to leave the ship. But, now, hold on—if that was Carrow, who was that unconscious fellow?
The least weasel paled further* with the news of Caden's disappearance, and Elliot's assault. And they had just left Ocean like that? Just like they'd left him at the post office steps. Anything could have happened back then, and now, here, anything did happen.
"Oh, I knew it, I knew it, I knew it," Willard ranted under his breath, pacing back and forth on the deck. He'd never bothered replying to the mice, too shaken up by it all. "Never go off the ship, never go off the ship, they should have known, they should have known!"
He rubbed his face agitatedly. Head on straight. No one was dead yet. No reason to panic. Head on straight. Just like the battle. Calm, cool, collected, capable. Caden was missing, Ocean was possibly taken as well, Elliot was hurt, everyone was gone. Not everyone! There had to be a few officers left. The sick berth was still intact, right? This wasn't a refitting or anything, just a simple visit to get permission to attack the Rosferian vessel over there... So it wasn't like everything would be taken down for however long... Surely...
By the time Willard had located someone of rank—Corporal Clements—Selvis, Elliot and Artivis were already heading below. Willard pointed after them.
"Come on, sir!"
As Clements went below after them, Willard raced back to the railing. The mice were still below, it seemed, with Carrow still unconscious.
"Er, is Jal Apodemus all right? Please bring him aboard! We have a surgeon who can take care of him! I'm sorry! I have to go!"
Leaving Carrow's family, Willard caught up with the others on the lower gun deck, just as Selvis was setting Elliot down. The least weasel saw Clements talking to them, and so took a slight detour to grab his pillow from his camping spot. He clutched it tightly, and then held it out with a shaking paw, offering it to Elliot.
"Now, this is no good," the older weasel was saying, crouching down as he inspected the beech marten. "Not here, lads. Come up—let's get you a proper place in the sick berth. You'll be in good paws there, McNamee. Freneta, Waters—what's the meaning of all this? Has there been a fight?" Clements glanced at Artivis, but ultimately chose to ignore the wood mouse, as he was not a threat.
Willard opened his mouth to answer, and then realised he didn't know. It was up to Selvis to explain the situation again. All Willard could do was keep a keen eye on his crewmates from now on.
"Never leave the ship," the weasel mumbled to himself again. And he decided then and there, that he wouldn't let them. It was up to him to keep Selvis here. He couldn't risk the longtail running off again, possibly alone, getting into whatever danger had befallen Elliot—or worse, being "taken" like Caden and possibly Ocean. Taken? By whom? Where? The way the mouse at the docks had said the word, Willard knew it didn't mean "out for icecream with the Captain"...
* Further, that is, than his winter molt had already done.
Molly giggled. Well, that had been interesting. Entertaining? Not exactly as she'd imagined it. But interesting, definitely. She sighed happily, leaning against Ladorak's shoulder as she squeezed his muscles.
"That's my Laddy..."
“Don’t tell me that’s all you’re gonna do. Surely you have something better up your sleeve for dragging me along…”
The stoat jill sat up again and tilted her head at Miri.
"Of course I do! Miri, we're just gettin' started here. Relaxing a bit before the big event. Hmm, who's that jack in the corner there? Keeps giving you the stink eye..." Molly narrowed her eyes. "Oi! You! Weasel! C'mon over! Any drink you like, 's on me! Come talk to my friend here! She's even prettier up close!"
Molly grabbed a cup at random and chugged it down. "How's that, then?" she asked Miri. "Think your 'boss' would mind, mm?"
She turned back to survey the crowd. That was all for stoat jacks, sadly, and while she wasn't one to go outside her own species, she was aware that not everybeast really cared about such things. She just had to pull the moves on another mustelid who felt lucky. She'd try for that ferret, there, next... and if that didn't work, well, then it was time to chuck a chair at the bartender and see how good these patrons were at dodging half-broken bottles.
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Post by Carrow on Dec 10, 2010 11:29:19 GMT -5
Selvis smiled at Corporal Clements, nodding slightly. "That's fine too, sir. To be honest, I just want Elliot to be somewhere - anywhere - he can rest for a while." He looked at the drowsy beech marten and patted her shoulder again, hoping he'd done enough to assure her that everything would work out just fine. It wasn't just for her that he'd said those words, however: the weasel needed to convince himself things would turn out OK, too.
Then he turned to Willard, and the anguish in his eyes could be seen clearly. "Willard, I know you're concerned about Carrow, but he isn't doing well right now. I have to tell you a few things: It's because of them that I'm going to have to leave the ship again quite soon. Carrow's been unconscious for the last while. He didn't know he had any relatives, see, and meeting the others -" he gestured down to the assembled mice below - "really took it out of him. He'd probably only be asleep right now if he hadn't tripped and fallen in the restaurant we were at. He knocked himself out.
"Listen. I know you want him to be looked after by the Surgeon, but there really is very little physically wrong with him. It's just that I... I've never seen him anywhere near as worn out as he is now. He needs to rest. Setiva can look after him just fine. As much as I'd like to leave him behind so he could rest up with Elliot... I can't." The longtail's face was the picture of dejection. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, fighting to keep from crying, but now it was even harder for him as the dilemma Carrow faced finally hit him.
"I'll have to go soon, and I'll have to take him with me, because... because... because Caden's been kitnapped." As resolute as Selvis was, he saw no point in holding his emotions in check anymore. He had to let it out. Tears formed in his eyes and began trickling down his cheeks, and when he next spoke his voice was choked with sadness. He couldn't see Willard through the tears, so he faced nobeast in particular. "Elliot ran into a few slavers back there... they were interested in Caden because of his fur. They've taken him seasons knows where now. Elliot tried to help... he tried to stop them... that's why he's looking so beaten up now. Those barbarians attacked him..."
Wiping a trembling paw across his eyes, Selvis sighed deeply as his vision cleared. "I can't leave Carrow here. I don't know when he'll wake up, but just imagine for a moment if he did, and he found himself back here. He's been through a lot in the last while - we all have - but he's taken this really badly. In a way, it's better he's unconscious for the moment... needs his rest. But if he woke up and found Caden gone... I don't even want to think about how that might affect him. Surely you can see how much he cares about him!"
The weasel paused for a moment to ensure telling the smaller weasel this wouldn't become too much for *him*. "He hardly ever leaves his side if he can manage it. I'm not sure he'd be able to take being separated from him - and then I'd be gone too. Just think about that for a moment. So I'm taking him with me because if I have to tell him what's happened - I hope to fates he doesn't come around until all this is over, though, I really do - at least I'll be there for him. He'll need somebeast then...
"The only reason Elliot can't go is because he's not feeling up to it. I am, though. I have to do this, and I'll have Setiva and Eviros along with me to help where they can. Elliot needs his rest. Carrow does too, but he just has to come. It would destroy him if he was forced to stay here, not knowing what had become of him - and this is the same reason I have to go. I won't feel alright again until he's back with us. So as soon as we have Elliot sorted here, I'll be off again."
Selvis broke off and began weeping afresh. He knew that Willard wouldn't want to come (because he was afraid, of course, though the longtail would never accuse the Welkin weasel of this), but he hoped with all his heart that his fellow weasel would see sense and let him do as he so fervently wished to. He knew him to be a stubborn creature, but Selvis was in no mood for an argument. He was in turmoil, and in such a state, sorrow of this kind could quickly turn to rage.
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Post by bookity101 on Dec 10, 2010 16:36:03 GMT -5
Elle felt odd, odder than she had in a while because she was being held like a little baby. And while she didn't mind that Selvis had picked her up, it was still... strange. She allowed her head to rest on Selvis' shoulder, listening with her eyes closed as Selvis began to explain his plan to get Caden back. She let Selvis place her on the deck. Then something clicked, causing her to sit sat bolt upright, well as upright as her current position would allow.
"Selvis, you can't go alone!" She stood and watched as Selvis talked with the Corporal, "Thank you Artivis, but Selvis doesn't know what he's doing." She padded up behind Willard, actually when Selvis started crying, he was facing her, but he didn't see her when he started addressing everyone again. She walked over to his side as he began crying again.
"Selvis, I'm fine." She smiled at him and withdrew her pawkerchief, which she was never without anymore, she reached out and patted his face, then put the kerchief and pressed it into his paw.
"Look, I was wrong. No more dizziness. See?" She spun in a circle, fast enough that it should make Selvis feel better. "Besides, there is no way you can find where they were without me." She put a paw on his arm, making it look like she was comforting him, which she was, but she was also steadying her self. She was still dizzy, and the ship wasn't helping as it rocked ever so slightly. But her acting skills had improved since she came to the ship, and there is no way she was going to let Selvis walk off this boat without anyone who could help him, and with Carrow like he was, and Willard to scared to get off the ship, it would have to be her.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Molly!" She hissed, but it was too late. The other weasel had already joined her as she scolded her friend.
"Whiskey." One word stilled Miri's protest as she turned in her seat to stare at the beast who joined her. Then she too waved for a second whiskey. Both weasels accepted their cups with a nod of thanks, and both downed the drink in one gulp. Then they turned to each other, just looking. The jacks gaze laughing, Miri's gaze bemused, then she spoke;
"Can you still spin a knife?" He smiled a little bit.
"Can I?" He stood and leaned against the bar, removing three knives from hidden places. "Watch." And she did, one elbow on the bar, her paw supporting her cheek. Soon the blades began to dance. He started simple. Making arcs in the air from paw to paw. Then it changed, and became more and more complex as he moved away from the bar. Behind his back, one, two, three, four? Large arcs, small arcs, under his legs and spinning in place they flashed in the dim light. Then he nodded to Miri and she stood, withdrawing two of her blades and waited.
"Ready?"
"Yes." Just as she spoke six knives flew between them as Miri waited for Molly to make a comment. Hmm for once, she would be the one surprising Molly for once....
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Post by Carrow on Dec 10, 2010 17:40:21 GMT -5
Selvis hadn't cried in quite a while. He'd rarely had any reason to since he joined the Agamemnon, but all this was proving just a little too much for him to pawdle, so he let the tears flow. And flow they did, cascading down his cheeks as he gave vent to the despair he felt. There was nothing for it. Elle was too weak to accompany them, so the weasel had decided that he would lead his new-found mouse friends in the quest to save Caden. He found himself helpless before his emotion, and so he couldn't stem the tide.
"I-I wasn't planning on g-going alone... I said I'd b-b-bring Setiva and Eviros with me...," he said haltingly, in between anguished sobs. He couldn't see for crying, and so was oblivious to the fact that his beech marten companion was actually back on her paws. That is, until he cleared his vision again, leaving the back of his paw sopping wet and with matted fur. He saw her beside him. What's more, he felt her paw brush his cheek. Now he was smiling again. Smiling through the tears.
"Wait... y-you're... you're... fine?," he repeated slowly, wondering if Elle wasn't getting ahead of herself. "A-are you sure about that? We can't deal with two unconscious creatures... so..." The weasel trailed off once more, pawkerchief clasped to his streaming eyes, out of the corners of which he saw his beech marten friend execute quite a graceful twirl. He smiled just a little wider. "Oh. I s-see..." Suddenly things didn't seem as hopeless as before. He sniffed loudly, blushing a little as he realised he'd done something he wasn't known for doing in front of what amounted to a small crowd.
Artivis stepped forward, taking Selvis's paw in his. "Oh, don't worry about it, Selvis," he said in an exceptionally soft voice. "There's no need to be ashamed because you weep. Better to do that than keep things bottled up, after all - least that's how I've always seen it." The smaller wood mouse had noticed how distressed the long-tailed weasel had looked when he heard the news, and had inwardly been hoping he'd try to deal with it in a better way than he had been doing. Now he seemed to be less despondent, and the mouse was happy about this. He broke contact, a shy smile playing around his lips.
Selvis felt Elle place a gentle paw on his shoulder. He appreciated the comforting gesture, but suspected somehow that Elliot was using him as a crutch for a moment as she gathered her bearings again. It wasn't exactly common for creatures to recover from a dizzy spell that quick. Whatever the reason, he was grateful for her concern, and hugged her slightly to show it. "You're right about that, anyhow: I'd probably just end up getting lost without you or something similiar... oh well."
Sighing again, though this time in relief, he spoke, the old confidence seeming to return slightly. "Artivis? Do you want to come with us?," he asked, as it wasn't yet entirely clear to the weasel what the young mouse's intentions were. He shook his head gently, looking up at Willard and smiling. It wasn't just the least weasel's company he was after; he wanted to explore a ship the likes of Agamemnon. A fascination with exploration was another thing he had in common with Carrow. Selvis nodded in response. "Alright, that settles it. Do you think you're set to go, Elliot?," the mustelid asked 'her'.
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Post by Ladorak on Dec 11, 2010 1:17:54 GMT -5
Caden had gotten over his sobbing spell. He had been hugging himself and weeping next to the civet, but he wanted to escape...to try and see if he could somehow get free of these restraints and make a break for it. He wasn't sure where he was...he could faintly hear the sea outside, but wasn't sure from which direction it was coming from, as sounds echoed in here.
He was trembling as he started to feel his manacles up. He twisted them, turned them, tried to see how they came off and on. Fortunately for him, the salty sea air had pervaded even this dungeon, and had rusted the chains he was attached to rather terribly. The slavers hadn't bothered to keep the equipment in here maintained, as it cost money they didn't want to spend, and the garrison certainly didn't use these dungeons.
It was with some surprise when he yanked back on the left manacle and felt the chain break and snap in the dim lighting. His arm jerked back and nearly whapped his snout, but he was free! Well at least of the left one. The civet gazed at him curiously, as surprised as Caden was by this sudden turn of events. He quickly dropped his paw to the ground to conceal the broken chain, lest a slaver enter the room and find one of his arms free. He pretended to still be manacled to the floor.
He tried to break the right chain, but sadly it held fast. Blast...he was almost out of here! Well he'd have to make it past what he assumed was that locked door...but yeah. "And just what the hell do you think you're doing kit?" Solf, the civet, inquired of his cellmate.
"Getting out of here...unlike you." the albino murmured, twisting the manacle on his right wrist. Come on...there had to be a way to get out of this one! He tried to squeeze his wrist out, but it was no use and just caused pain to flare up
"Give it up...you'll never get out of here."
"I can't give up! I just...can't..." Caden said, despite him feeling like giving up. He tried once more to squeeze his wrist out of the iron ring, and this time had some success...he managed to get his wrist through, but got stuck right before the thumb, as that was the thickest part of the paw. This would probably take some time...and he needed to move quickly but not too quickly in case someone came in here and caught him in the act. As the manacle wouldn't slide over his thumb, the marten left it stuck where it currently was, and tried to think of something else to get him out of his restraints.
He needed to escape...he needed to get back to Ladorak and the ship. Maybe Ladorak would come for him...but he felt scared, and uncertain of his future at the moment. He felt his hope fading...but tried to grasp onto it and hold it down so that he could break free. He had gotten one arm free after all! He needed to press his advantage and try something else! But...what?
Sighing, he leaned back against the stone cold wall. Come on...think Caden...think!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ladorak swirled his scotch around in his glass before he began downing it. The carbonated water was to dilute it...as he didn't want to get wasted just yet. He was watching the knife twirling display that Miri was putting on. All rather impressive of course. He leaned back against the counter, taking his drink at a moderate pace. It was...like a honey that had gone bitter, but he loved its taste.
"Seems we have a regular street performer...or at least something akin to it." Ladorak watched, fascinated by the spinning daggers...until Montegu Sylver burst through the door. Ladorak's head swiveled to look at the weasel detective, who was panting and had Ocean by his side. The two had run into each other near the waterfront, as Ocean was making his way back to the ship.
"Jal Fugate! Jal Fugate!"
"Jal Sylver...what is it?" Ladorak asked in a somewhat annoyed fashion. Monty seemed to think they were on some pleasure cruise ever since he had stepped aboard and yet...something was more urgent about him this time.
"It's your ward!" the detective spat, and Ladorak immediately tensed up, sitting at the edge of his seat. "He's been kitnapped! Slavers got him! Ocean's found out where they've been keeping him but..."
"WHAT?!" Ladorak's glass shattered in his paw, his drink splaying everywhere. "They got Caden!? How did this...how..." he slid out of his stool, fire blazing in his eyes. "Where are they? WHERE ARE THEY?" he demanded angrily, raising his voice and grabbing Montegu by his coat.
"Calm down Jal Fugate..."
"Calm down...Monty...my son was just taken by slavers! How do you expect me to be CALM? I'll kill them...every last one of them..." he stated firmly, some spittle flying out of his mouth on certain words. "Show me...where they are..." he thrust the weasel backward, letting him go.
"A castle along the waterfront...Ocean is pretty sure he could find it again." Monty replied, brushing his coat off as Ladorak's one paw had been covered in scotch.
Ladorak closed his eyes, and ran a paw through his headfur, smoothing it back. His chest was heaving in and out, and he seemed one step short of losing it. "OK...OK..." it was clear he was trying not to fly into a rage. He was seeing red behind his closed eyes however...blood or fire...it didn't matter. "Molly...Jis Talian...will you be...coming along then?" he asked, turning back briefly to regard the two of them.
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Post by spender on Dec 11, 2010 8:53:19 GMT -5
"No," Willard said. The weasel had stayed quiet for too long, listening to everything Selvis and Elliot had to say. The facts about Caden's disappearance seemed to have no effect on him; his face remained impassive throughout the tale. Corporal Clements vanished immediately after getting the main gist of things, to go look for others to inform.
"No," he said again, straightening and squaring his shoulders. He edged himself into the middle of the line of cannons down either side of the deck, sidling back and forth like a goalie. "No! No! No one is leaving! You're staying here, where we belong! McNamee's hurt and we're only just kits, Frenata, barely striplings for a year yet! Apodemus is... is in some kind of dead sleep like Cielciosk was, and you're—and you're thinking of taking him to a bunch of lawless slavers? Are you out of your mind!?"
The weasel's eyes were bugging out. He waved his pillow frantically, as if trying to swat the group back before they'd even begun trying to get past him.
"Let the officers deal with it! They're trained, they're experienced! We're not! They'll find the Captain and, and tell him and we have to stay here! It's no help to Caden if we all go and get captured recklessly! I won't let you leave! The Agamemnon needs her crew alive and well! You'll... you'll have to fight me if you think you're going to leave again! You'll have to kill me!"
Willard was slavering now, drool dripping down his chin. For such a tiny creature, and so socially shy, he was truly in a rage now. He had to protect his friends—what friends he had left. If that meant punching each of them into a coma, so be it! He dropped his pillow, putting up his little fists as he jinked side to side, trying to cover the entire breadth of the ship.
Keinruf stared up at the castle. This was the place...
He tugged the rope, looping it around his paw, shortening the distance between himself and his son, and their slave. He clenched his jaw, grinding it around until his face, by the feel of it from his side of things, felt like it was making a confident grin. This probably meant to everyone looking at him that half his muzzle looked like it was melting off... Oh well.
Time to make a sale.
~ ~ ~
It had gone surprisingly well. A bit of haggling to get the price he needed... it was still lower than it ought to have been, but that was the cost of selling directly to a slaver, instead of waiting for the next auction himself. He had no time for that. He'd steal what little else he needed, and then they'd be on their way.
"Of course," a voice said in halting common, its owner leading Keinruf down to the dungeon—a conversation had been underway for a minute or two now, but it was only now reaching Caden's ears. "Can't let you leave without seeing what we have to offer you in turn. Who knows, you might change your mind... At any rate, lock her up there."
The door had creaked open, and the four beasts spilled in: one of the slaver's guards, the two pine martens, and the orange-furred mousemaid.
Keinruf held her shoulders, forcing her to walk in front of him. Reisender, the little marten, hugged his father's leg with one paw and sucked on the thumb of his other, gazing around with interest at all the shackled beasts.
"Bad," he proclaimed, pointing quite randomly at Solf. "Bad beastie, gon' get rotted in jaaaaaails."
Keinruf clipped his son's ears with a grunt, silencing the younger marten. He forced the mouse to a free set of shackles beside Caden, and began the work of snapping them tight. The mouse was still, obedient to the will of her (former) master.
When it was done, Keinruf stood again, but was now looking at Caden.
"Vot iss dis?" he said, turning a little to direct his voice at the guard, without taking his eyes off Caden. "A vhite marten? Iss pine? Beech?"
"Aye, pine. Al-by-no."
"Al-by-no," Keinruf repeated quietly. "Dose pink eyes..." He leaned closer, but still kept himself out of range of Caden's arms, should the young beast snap and try to attack. Keinruf rubbed his chin. "How much?"
"Nothing you can afford. He's going to be our finest sale at the auction. Be there if you want him."
Keinruf shook his head. "I don't vant him..." He stood up and led his son out. But he stopped in the doorway and said, almost a little loudly, as if he wanted Caden to hear, "Dat vun should be set free in a mont'. Free...mont'."
The raggedy marten turned, and locking eyes with Caden, he grinned.™
Molly's mouth had popped open in the cutest little O shape you ever did see under a stoat's beer-frothed nose. Miri certainly had been here before, now Molly was certain. First Lowse, and now this fellow. There was simply no way Miri wasn't familiar with this gent, that's all there was to it. You didn't just ask a random beast if he could do that with knives, and then join in on it...
The stoat jill had just started to clap along to their movements, egging them on, when Monty burst in the door and ruined everything.
"Coming along!?" Molly barked. "Ladorak, you couldn't stop me by cutting my legs off. No one, no one, is going to take our boy from us." She had her knife out, clenched furiously in her paw, and swished it through the air in front of her. "Lead the way or move out of mine! We're getting Caden back. Now."
"That's the place," Peskers decided, pointing. "That's what the rat said."
"Mmm-hmm," Spender said, nodding. The male's face was plastered with the stupidest, dopiest grin. He hadn't had any of Molly's special herbs today, but the way he felt, he'd gone through the whole bag in the last hour.
Both ferrets were wet, their clothes and fur muddled with patches of damp and sand. Spender, having forsaken his trousers again, wore his knee-length tunic as usual, while Peskers opted for a simple trouser-change, getting out of the restrictive slops while keeping her striped shirt on. She had very much wanted to borrow one of Molly's smaller dresses again, but the nature of how beasts viewed females here had made that a rather bad idea; it was better to keep up her disguise a little longer.
Besides for once in his life looking blissful, another change was to be noticed about Spender. His cap, having gone missing during his accident with the mast, was now back on his head. Oh, it was not the same cap, of course—what a story that would have been! No, this one was blue, not red, to match his slops better, and was, in fact, not a cap at all, but a beret.
It actually looked rather swell on him.
As Peskers hauled him along toward the unmarked building, Spender's gaze wandered, as it so often did. He dug in his heels suddenly, stopping Peskers up.
"What now?" she hissed. "I told you, it's not a chocolate shop... oh!"
She saw it now, too. The next building over, also quite unmarked, had the distinction of having a young ermine standing in the doorway, and raised voices coming from within. Peskers looked at Spender and raised a brow, then together they crept towards the secret tavern. They did not mean to creep, but considering their adventures so far today, creeping was just something that came naturally.
"Wot's goin' on?" Spender stage-whispered.
"Heck if I know," Peskers real-whispered back. "Ask Ocean!"
"Wot's goin' on?" Spender stage-whispered, a little louder, popping his head up over the bush they had stuffed themselves behind. Ocean still didn't seem to notice him, so he waved his new beret. "Over 'ere, fishstick-face! Oi! Tar-tail!"
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Post by Carrow on Dec 11, 2010 10:05:32 GMT -5
Of all the things Willard could have said, his response to Selvis's explanation probably ranked amongst the absolute worst, and most ill-timed, replies ever made. His head snapped up, and he stared fixedly at Willard for a moment. The weasel was breathing like a bellows. Then he shook his head slowly, inhaling and exhaling steadily as he tried to figure out what the hell Willard was trying to do.
Finally, he could take it no more, and exploded. "Shut up. JUST. SHUT UP. I'll go wherever I bloody well please, Waters, and I'll be damned if any creature stops me. Can you not SEE that I'm TRYING TO DO MY BEST FOR ONE OF MY CLOSEST FRIENDS?! I mean, good grief, I wouldn't mind if you were telling me this because you wanted to go along with us - BUT YOU'D NEVER DO THAT, WOULD YOU?!?!"
"Go on, try and hit me if you want, but I swear on my life, it will end much better for you if you let me go. I'm not the kind who stays behind and does nothing to help his friends. Carrow - they won't want Carrow. Of course they won't. Physically, he doesn't stand out, and he knows it. They're ONLY LOOKING FOR CREATURES WHO STAND OUT, damn it! Otherwise Elliot would have been taken too!"
The frustrated longtail gave vent to a roar of deepest anguish. This creature... he was insufferable. Self-centred, pompous, stuck-up and all the rest. He had absolutely no right to say any of this, especially when he had been too much of a coward to even leave the ship in the first place. That ship. Great seasons... it was like he thought about that ship more than any of his friends. If Willard really cared about Caden he'd want him to be rescued.
"Carrow's not in a dead sleep, or hibernating or whatever the equivalent might be for one of his species. Most mice don't do that, and last time I checked he's not a dormouse! He's a wood mouse! All he's doing is resting to let his body recover from what's happened to him in the last while! Elliot says he's fine, too, and that's good enough for me. Willard, PLEASE. I have to do this. I couldn't live with myself if I stayed here, and Carrow... you don't know how fragile he is.
"However, I think even you can figure out how he'd react if he found out Caden was missing. He'll need a while to recover from the shock of meeting those relatives of his when he comes around, even as he is now. If he were made aware of Caden's absence, he would panic. He would panic, he would cry... he would be in agony. And WE WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HELP HIM BECAUSE WE WOULD BE HERE, NOT GOING AFTER CADEN LIKE ALL THREE OF US WOULD WANT TO!"
His words were carried to Setiva, and she smiled, glancing down at her unconscious cousin. He cared about Caden that much that the marten's absence would be THAT hard on him? She'd known Carrow felt close to Caden, but not this close. She didn't say a word in response, but was pleased that he thought that highly of his friends. Oh, she thought, but then again he didn't really have any before he came here, right? It's no wonder he feels that way about them. If he were conscious, he'd be in pieces right now. Please see sense, Willard... please...
Selvis's voice was trembling audibly. "Ask yourself, do you want that on your conscience? Really, do you? Because it would be no other beast's fault but your own. We want to help Caden. We want to rescue him. We want to help him in his hour of need because I'm certain he would do the same for us if we were in his position. That's the one reason, above all others, we want to go. We will stick together: Elliot, Carrow, Caden and myself. I'm sorry, but there is no way you are stopping us - unless of course you actually want us to resent you? Carrow would never forgive you for this. Nor would I. And you'd only have yourself to blame."
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Post by Ladorak on Dec 11, 2010 13:19:54 GMT -5
A sudden thought struck Caden then, and he subtly slipped a claw into the lock on the manacles. He began to wriggle it around, trying to force the pistons into the right alignment, and hopefully have the manacle spring open on him. He could feel the lock clicking and whirring but no immediate result was forthcoming.
Solf studied him with curious eyes now. If only he could do that...but sadly his paws were bound by the stocks. Caden ceased his actions at once upon the entrance of some new slavers. He covered up the chain on the floor with his arm, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He might've had it too had they not come in!
Watching the newcomer marten with his pink eyes, recognition seemed to flood the older creature's face upon seeing him...or was it recognition? Was there something else there too?
Solf, for his part, smirked at the brat that was by Keinruf's side. Hmph...if only he could bring his paws together...then that kit would be blown into smithereens like a nice little bomb. The reason he was wearing stocks was to prevent the union of his forepaws...for etched upon each of his pawpads was a circle in the middle of which were some runes and symbols. One was the sun, the other the moon. The right paw had the symbol for silver on it, his left gold. In the middle of those runes were sigils for water on the right, and fire on the left. Contradictory elements for sure...incompatible in every way. But unless they could come together...nothing would happen.
The civet's full name was Fernusolf Slater, and a quick perusal of his military record would have found an unstable past indeed. Stupid boy...doesn't he realize that unlike that albino next to me...my forepaws aren't chained to the ground? ...I could easily lunge at him and turn him into a most satisfying, most fiery and hot explosion! he sneered menacingly at Reisender, a confident expression on his face...almost as if it were the small marten who was imprisoned, and not the civet.
Caden was fortunately left alone by the departing pine marten, but not before the vaguely familiar fellow got off a word that clicked in his brain. Freemont? His name!? This guy knew who he was!? The albino straightened his back up, and gave Keinruf a proud look, despite his inward quavering at that grin he was shooting him. "I'm not...Freemont. I'm a Fugate! The Freemonts are dead! Their house was weak, but the Fugate house is strong! It burns bright...brighter than your house, sir! It is only just beginning its rise...only just beginning..." he finished, his voice lowering on that last bit as he slumped back against the wall, no longer looking at Keinruf.
His claw was inching back to the lock, but he kept it carefully hidden on the other side of his leg. They would be gone...and he would be free. He just had to get free! He was so close!
But he became acutely aware of the orange...or some sort of peach colored mouse next to him. She could see what he was doing, and he closed his eyes for a moment, relaxing his claw. Would she rat him out? Would she scream? As much as he wanted to run after he was free...he felt sorry for all these others to varying degrees. Most of them were like him. Taken from their homes when the pirates raided coastal settlements that were poorly protected or watched. "Please don't...say anything." he said very softly, gesturing to the broken chain that had previously secured his left arm. "I'm trying to be as quiet as I can..." he explained, hoping it hadn't been a mistake to confide in her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ocean turned his head at the waving...blue...thing off to his right. "Huh? Spender?" he asked, wrinkling his brow in confusion. He could smell that jill too...the one that had taken him today. He scowled, and walked over to the bushes. "What are you doing here?" he asked, folding his arms and looking back at the entrance to make sure Ladorak wasn't leaving yet.
"What's going on? Um...well you may as well go back to the ship and celebrate Spender. Your big rival Caden's been taken out of the picture...probably permanently. He was abducted earlier today by slavers, so I guess that'll make you happy. May as well buy a drink or two and take it back to the ship, so you can go and celebrate with your new...whatever she is..." Ocean said, giving a long sideways glance at Peskers and scrunching up his snout.
"Anyways, I'm..."
"Ocean! Jal Sleet!" Ladorak was calling from within, and Ocean backed away from the bush, merely shaking his head and turning to greet the Captain as he strode out of the hidden tavern. "Where is he? Tell me!" Ladorak had seen that Molly didn't need her arm twisted to go along with this. She had even called Caden their boy...almost as if they were already married and were a family.
"It's...it's this way sir!" Ocean said, pointing off down the street. "We need to circle around to the boulevard behind this one, and then follow it north a ways along the sea...the castle is in that direction!"
Giving only a single nod, Ladorak sprang forward, his steps light and swift, but not so fast that the others wouldn't be able to keep up. Ocean would need to lead after all. The young ermine simply glanced back at the bushes where Spender had been, shrugging and shaking his head again before he turned to hurriedly follow after the Captain.
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Post by spender on Dec 12, 2010 1:59:05 GMT -5
Willard's paws and jaws clenched. Sweat dripped from his pads. He quivered, but stood still, head lowered, unable to meet Selvis's eyes. It was so hard to think when the longtailed spoke. Willard could never hope to be as eloquent, to present his feelings and ideals so clearly, with such a nice, hypnotic voice.
So this was it. He was the last vestige of sanity left on the ship, and he could either step aside and let his friends die or worse, or he could go against everything he'd been taught and lay them out himself—saving them, breaking their friendship, and live with being hated forever if no one else could bring Caden and Ocean back in one piece. But wasn't that the requirement? That they all were alive? How could he show Selvis that he was risking everything, far too much of everything, to save one beast... It was like a whole gun crew jumping into the ocean to rescue a dropped shot.
The weasel couldn't say that. He'd already shut down his mind, sequestering himself away. His safe spot, deep inside. Outside, his body had stopped quivering. His eyes moved, taking in facts. He breathed. His muscles tensed, at the ready. But a light had gone off behind his eyes. The futility of the situation, one weasel against all these other beasts, dragged him down. All he had left to do was his job. And right now, his job was seeing that they remained safe, here, on the ship. That was all that mattered. It was all he could take control of. If he somehow let this moment slip away, let them go and get lost and die without having done anything, without even putting up a fight...
If the cost of letting his crew walk into danger when he couldn't say with absolute certainly that they would walk out the other side unscathed was to step aside and keep their friendships... Then it was too high.
He had his duty. He needed nothing else.
"I'll say it one more time," Willard spoke quietly, slowly—a spooky reversal of his drool-dripping panic attack moments earlier. "I cannot let you. Off. This. Ship."
He raised his head again, looking at Selvis, and then Elliot, and then the mice. The fire had returned to his eyes, darker and hotter than ever, and the tears that came to put it out did nothing to stop his blazing gaze.
"I just can't."
~ ~~
"Mum? Mum, where are they takin' Frances?"
"Willard, Willard, do something for mummy? Please..."
"What, mum? Where are they takin' her?"
"They're taking her to a bad place. Willard, you have to stop them. I'm too sick, I can't get up. Willard, stop them, don't let them take my baby..."
"H'okay."
He remembered...
He remembered toddling off down the hallway. Standing in the doorway, paw in his mouth, as they shoved her in the back of the carriage, locked the door with chains. He remembered the horses had fire in their breath, fire so cold that the smoke turned to fog in the night air.
He remembered watching them go away, and Frances's keens a banshee's wail that faded down the street, but never from that room. He remembered what it felt like to walk back down that hallway and tell his mother that he had done nothing.
They got her back eventually. Eventually his mother found the strength to leave the house, to find help, selling some more of her husband's clothes, one of the kitchen chairs, and fates knew what else, to get the money to pay the beasts who could bring her back from the hospital. And eventually Willard earned the money back to buy those things back... But they never did. The money went elsewhere, to food, to new clothes for him as he grew, to medicine, to keeping Frances inside the house, to keeping his family together.
The was his job. That was his duty.
"—and Castrigg... the hero of Welkin... always did his duty. No matter the cost."
He remembered his mother's smile as she slipped into sleep that night after the story. He remembered how he'd slipped out of their bed, and out of the house, and how he'd stood in the doorway and let himself leave, and the promise he'd made her.
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