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

[Lorcan Rainclaw]

Lorcan himself was, for now, rather ambivalent about this news save the unwavering sense of having missed something significant. To be related to a serial killer, much less a beast he had only heard of in tales, meant little to his lived experience. He wasn’t one much to concern himself with legacy or history: the present was far more pressing a matter.

What did catch his interest was the way Falun and Alwyn spoke to one another. His ears flicked, noting the way the older todd spoke of…what he presumed, then, would be his uncle? and how his cousin likewise responded to the jibe. It was impossible not to glance to his father at the mention of MinoComm, wondering what he would make of the comment. Similarly, it became difficult, once he had noticed it, not to frown at the cloth-covered cabinet for a beat. It felt out of place in his parents’ cabin.

He did not voice his opinion, attention soon pulled back to the conversation at paw. “Aye,” Lorcan replied. “Pretty much first thing we did, wasn’t it, Kinz? Not sure how I feel about all the engines and whatnot seein’ as I used to make money repairing canvas, but suppose I’ll be paid to do better work’n that.”

 

[Kinza Rainclaw]

It was strange to think how wildly different their family associations were turning out to be. From emotionally constipated to batscat feral. Kinza hoped she would be able to wriggle out from all of these connections if they suited her, perhaps use others to her advantage. She was her father’s daughter after all.

These revelations were far less emotional for her, coaxing her into a grin when Falun played at his teasing; a brief glance also to Jeshal at the MinoComm mention. What surprised her was Alwyn’s next bit of news. Her curiosity about the steam engine was interrupted on finding out he was to be joining them.

“Aye, I’m keen ter see her in action meself!” she said, eyes bright with thoughts of the future. “She’s a good balance fer me, ter be honest. I like to get me paws on both sail and machine. I ain’t much of an expert on the engine itself though Mum taught me a thing or two.”​

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

Jeshal was thankful Falun hadn’t referred to him as a crusty old relic yet, regardless of how his joints felt from his recent ghostly escapades. And other things. Every scrap of conversation filtered new (for him) information and it felt as good as it felt uneasy to dust off his espionage skills the way Falun did his trousers. Vito had adopted Falun since the loss of his parents. There was the temptation to seek out what Alwyn knew of his parents’ secrets, but for now he knew better than to test loyalties. With his emotions so raw at present, his talents for poking around weren’t going to be at their sharpest. What did not go unnoticed, however, was Alwyn’s near slip. Jeshal filed that away for later and focused instead on the information the todd actually wanted to provide. It was strange being called Uncle. Talk of the Hide was only just enough to steer his thoughts from that.

He allowed friendless upon his features to follow the surprise of Alwyn signing up. Time would tell whether he would mean his amiability.

“Looks like it be still a family ship after all, haharr. Though it pains me ter see her with that great smoke belcher on her backside, that it does. Don’t get me wrong, full o’ pride I am at Tox’s contributions ter these advancements, but me poor Golden Hide!” He feigned dramatics, putting the back of his gauntlet to his forehead. “Ain’t what I be wishin’ for when I wish her a big booty.” Golden Hide? More like Old’n’Wide.​

 

[Falun Furotazzi]

Falun's expression turned sour, first at the mention of Vito and his parents, and then nearly into a scowl as the discussion moved to the Golden Hide. "Ya can keep 'at ship, an' 'er fat end as well," he said shortly, leaning himself against the corner of a cabinet and crossing his arms sullenly. "Don' get wha's so grea' abou' it anyway. 'S jus' a buncha wood an' stuff, nah e'en 'at nice. Dunno wha' dolt woul' go an' get e'eryone an' 'emselves killed o'er a bloody boat." The resentment in his voice seemed somewhat misplaced for the tenor of the conversation, the vehemence perhaps aimed more at a different golden hide altogether.

 

[Alwyn Ryalor]

Alwyn, now more in his element about military matters, nodded enthusiastically towards his cousins first, and he picked up a bit of confidence which was sourly needed. He replied with a bit more pep to his talk regarding the Hide, focusing a bit more on Kinza since she seemed the most enthusiastic about it, and as his own little way of making things up to her.

“Oh, she is certainly something to behold, I had the pleasure of seeing her at her combat demonstrations for the Empress. She’s a large vessel, much, much bigger than this ketch if you’ll forgive me Uncle Jeshal, with seventy-four guns that make her a match against many fortresses by herself, and she’s fast when using the engine in addition to the sails, even in the worst weather. Truly state-of-the-art. I’ve heard the admiralty saying they are looking forward to eventually making more of her class in the future or even mounting the engines on larger vessels, it seems they want fast warships, ones that can still move quickly but are still able to go toe-to-toe with the proper warships of Alkamar.”

He paused, catching his breath, though his tail wagged ever so slightly.

“But there are other improvements, too, she can handle the cold weather quite well with the steam pipes throughout the ship, as was mentioned in the report on Urk, the crew was quite comfortable aboard and many lives were saved thanks to them when the wounded were brought back onboard. Copper-sheathed hull under the water line, so she can go faster and longer without needing to be cleaned, and better protection against underwater obstacles, but a captain’ll still have to be careful at higher speeds.”

He stopped, realizing he was going on a bit too much, then nodded at Lorcan.

“Oh, yes, you get a premium for working on the Hide, and good experience too. It’ll be the future, I think, in the long-run, these coal-powered ships."

He smirked a little at “Uncle” Jeshal’s theatrics, chuckling lightly before he replied. “Aye, she’s gotten a bit bigger backside as a result, but I appreciate a rubenesque lady, especially when she can land a punch as hard as the Hide can. You’re right, though, on it being a family ship, I heard the Hide was specifically saved at the intervention of my father and Aunt Tanya, though I confess I do not know much about that. I was at Amarone most of the time those discussions were being held.”

Alwyn settled back into a more comfortable stance, but he did note the bitterness in Falun’s voice. Had he gone a little too far with the comment about Vito? He had only meant to respond in kind.

@Lorcan Rainclaw @Kinza Rainclaw @Dusk Rainblade

 

[Lorcan Rainclaw]

Snorting at his father’s dramatics (which he, completely and utterly, never inherited a scrap of, thank you very much), Lorcan picked at his claws as he listened. “Mmm, that explains why ma was always in an’ out so much,” he observed.

There was much admiration for the Hide, both her history and contemporary advancements, but Falun’s sour response caused raised eyebrows. Ultimately the todd didn’t think he was strictly wrong: to Lorcan a ship was a ship and he knew well enough that they had a life-span. His loyalty was more to beasts than timber. Still, the Hide was a long-lived vessel with immense history built in part by his own parents: he was keen to add to the legend, and bemused why the other fox was so vitriolic on the matter as a whole.

“…Well, sounds like one’ve us ‘ere is a lubber.”

 

[Kinza Rainclaw]

Kinza was similarly taken aback by Falun’s scorn toward the Hide. Somehow she would have thought he might have had an affinity for it, having been brought up on board. Then again, with mention of who turned out to be his father, perhaps there was good reason to want the place put behind him. She listened keenly to Alwyn’s talk of ships, liking the prospect of being potentially warmer on the Hide compared to the chill of the crossing here, and the idea that there were going to be stronger and faster ones got her own tail wagging. She frowned at the description of a ‘rubenesque lady’, partly because she had no idea what that was and didn’t know if it was flattering, partly from discussing females this way in front of her dad, ship or not.

“Ah, don’t be a git, Lor,” she said at his ribbing of Falun and nudged him. “’E’s got his own business, which is more than you ‘ave!”​

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

The concept of yet more steam engines warred with Jeshal’s sensibilities. As an old seadog, he was loyal to the skill and toil of a traditional ship, but though it had been mellowed with age there was still a thirst in him for knowledge and progress. He loved the work Tox did, even when he didn’t know how it truly functioned, and he especially loved having got his mitts on a not-exactly-legal weapon. He was somewhat puzzled at the slight apology for comparing the Hide with the Armina, considering he had been the Hide’s captain. By the look on his daughter’s face though, she was clearly looking forward to getting her paws on all the new discoveries. He tried not to feel too protective of what other opportunities his kits might seek out.

Jeshal snorted at Lorcan’s remark and grinned further at Kinza’s. “Ships be not for everyone. The sea be in me blood, calling fer a dance, fer opportunity and exploration. But there were dances ter be had ashore in the midst o’ politics an’ behind the scenes. Seize what calls ter ye, says I.”​

 

[Falun Furotazzi]

Falun listened with some resentment to the prattle on and on about that ship. As if he didn't remember it plenty well; his first few years had been spent aboard it, after all. 'Gates, he'd been born aboard it; he probably had more claim to identify with it than anyone in this room, save perhaps for Jeshal. If he'd had a shred more introspection, perhaps he might have considered if that resentment was due to being an outsider to the legacy his birth father had established, unable and unwilling to claim his due. Unfortunately that was too much emotional work for him to perform at the moment.

Falun straightened up a bit, raising his chin at Kinza's comment. He gave her a bit of a wry smile as he commented, "'Anks. Ya ain' half impressive yerself 'ere." He gestured to the evidence of what he presumed to be Kinza's work, if only because his brain couldn't conceptualize his Aunt Tanya sewing. "Yer real 'andy, I can tell. More'n m' sister Marianna, anyway; she can patch a hole, an' 'at's abou' it."

He tilted his head, considering the group. He debated making another pitch for inclusion in his organization, but... He shrugged, dismissing the idea. He spent enough time gathering ne'er-do-wells from across the Harbor; in a way, it was a relief to have a place where the label of Furotazzi didn't necessarily follow him. "I' migh' be a bi' awkward," he allowed, "bu' if'n we get th' chance, I migh' be up ta, I dunno, drinks wiv' ya lot sometime. Even includin' you, Ryalor," he added, a touch begrudgingly, "if ya don' mind bein' seen wiv' th' likes a' me."

 

[Lorcan Rainclaw]

“I were self-employed, you know,” Lorcan retorted with a defensive grumble under his breath. It was a ‘gates of a stretch considering he had only been contracted when the right ships were in port (and even then, he possessed more dismissals under his belt than long-term projects). Still, masculine pride was easily bruised. He was the youngest todd of the group – all of whom were, by all accounts, handier at sea or in combat than himself – and it left him feeling itchy to prove himself as more than a useless kit in their eyes. What -do- I even have next to them?

His brush gave a further flick of annoyance at the round of defence against his awkward joke, followed by a roll of the eyes at praise for Kinza’s handiwork. He couldn’t even argue: Kinza’s talents with needle and thread had always been impressive to him and it was diplomatic, if not outright kind, of Falun to have noticed it. Considering what he’d put her through by going AWOL he knew she deserved the recognition of talent.

The further invitation was well received by the todd, his mood shifting as rapidly as his mother’s. Much of his insecurity lay in that sense of exclusion and incompetence, so the offer proved immediate balm. “Person’lly I’d like that fine,” he replied, brush wagging slowly. “You saw today that the city’s…a bit of a different beast for the likes’ve me. Be nice to know there’s a fox in port to have a pint with and point out the, uh…trouble.”