Rainblade-Ryalors Private Zann's Alley/Backyard Boys Will Be Boys

[Alwyn Ryalor]

Alwyn mostly nodded and played along with Lorcan’s act, being in a way the reverse “good cop” in a good cop, bad cop scenario with Falun being the “bad cop”, except that the “suspect” in this case was Lorcan. As he retrieved his bag, he felt the comforting hilt of his broadsword, and, the decidedly not comforting looseness of his coinpurse, which had been entirely emptied of its nearly two hundred gilders. Alwyn suppressed a wince, but he supposed the Sergeant, among other things, had “lost” that, as often tended to happen in cases before one ever saw a magistrate, unless it was directly related to tossing a suspect in prison, and even then, quite a bit of that could be lost. That vixen had turned out to be one of his most expensive “experiences” to date with that taken into account nearly three hundred gilders for a brief encounter that, in retrospect, was not in any way worth even a third of the original price.

I do have a problem...but...everybeast has problems, and I am not exactly going to be sent to the Vaelora Ryalor asylum to figure out what is wrong with me...it’s not like my father or mother are any better…

They were about to make their escape-at least out of this part of the station-when the clerk ordered them to freeze, and Alwyn tensed up. He could control himself, but he did not know how his two companions would act in a fight, and if they accidentally killed or severely injured a Fogey…

Luckily, though, it just appeared Lorcan had made a bit of an embarrassing error, and, despite himself, he turned his head to hide a slight chuckle under his breath.

Ah, someone from the country indeed.

@Lorcan Rainclaw @Falun Furotazzi

 

[Lorcan Rainclaw]

Ensuring that his own gear was amongst the collected objects, pressing the large warbow into the possession of Falun, Lorcan was only too eager to be making strides to their escape. After a lifetime of island living and the freedom it presented he was already feeling antsy with the enclosed space: fresh air would do the world of good. That or he was just sweating too much beneath the uniform.

Initially he had to fight to suppress any evident show of panic at being paused, ears flattening in awkwardness when she observed his state of dress. Said upbringing meant that the state of undress did not, itself, unduly embarrass Lorcan so much as his own ignorance before his new friends. “Trust me,” he grumbled, a small touch of humour colouring his growl, “I tighten these in any more places an’ the lot will split. Thanky’ for the advice on the sizin’ ma’am.”

Turning his attention back upon the other foxes, he was liberal with the baton once more, every inch the over-zealous new recruit as he harangued them. “Oi now, no smirkin’ or snickerin’, move move move! I won’t be late getting the paperwork back here because you won’t move your tails, so let’s go.”