Open Carry Yer Tunes in a Rusty Bucket

[Korya]

Korya drowned her embarrassment with a mug of ale that probably wasn't hers, but sandwiched between Vilde and Freya as she was and seeing how protective they were over the smaller feline, whoever the mug had previously belonged to didn't raise any objections.

The drink was starting to go from her stomach to her head, and she thumped the table hard, slightly off-beat to Herman's rhythm. She gave a raspberry, spewing spittle across the table and called out, "Don't listen to 'em, Hermy! Interrupt Griblo more often! He called me a portato!"

She cackled again, long and loud, and punched Freya in the arm (with surprising strength and nearly perfect form), then Vilde, then Freya again, and then just kept punching, her flailing fists weaker and weaker the more pummeling she did, until it was like a soft massage. All the while chanting:

"Grib-lo! Grib-lo! Grib-lo! Grib-lo!"

 

[Griblo Jankweed]

Herman’s final note rang out bright and earnest, hanging in the air just long enough to earn its scattered applause.

Griblo stared at him. One eye narrowing, then the other, cup still hanging loose in his paw as the last echoes of anthem and memory drifted through the galley.

"Oi!"

His gaze slid sideways, fixing instead on the small, wide-eyed mouse lingering at his shoulder.

"Who am Oi, chopped liv’er?"

The mouse blinked, startled into motion at last.

“I—It was your go, er… m-mate?”

Griblo straightened at once, indignation snapping into place like a well-set hinge.

"Damn roight it was!"

A thumb jabbed vaguely in Herman’s direction.

"’E’s worse’n Ruff at stealin’ a scene."

Then, just as quickly as it began, the edge broke and the ferret's ire subsided. A grin tugged crooked across his muzzle, sharp and amused.

"D’is ain’t ov’r, 'Erman."

But whatever further protest he might have mounted was swallowed whole by the room itself.

“Tell uz tale—!”

“Sing for us, Griblo!”

“Grib-lo! Grib-lo! Grib-lo!”

The chant rose around him like a tide, uneven and rowdy and utterly impossible to ignore. Griblo blinked, glancing between the gathered beasts, the grinning lynx, the bright-eyed wildcat, the pounding paws and eager noise.

He flicked a look back to the mouse.

"Can ye believe dis lot?"

A breath huffed out of him, somewhere between exasperation and laughter.

Then he rolled his shoulders, lifted the cup, and brought it down against the table with a firm, ringing thump.

Once.

Twice.

The rhythm caught.

"Roight, roight— keep yer fur on!"

Another thump. A glint in his eye.

"‘Ere t'is! 'De Ferret's Ledger"

His grin sharpened. And then he was off.

"We’re lean and we’re long and we’re quick on our paws,
We tally up favors and sharpen our claws,
If there’s coin on the table or meat on the bone,
A ferret’ll sniff it and claim it his own!"

The cup struck the table in time, his voice rough and unpolished but carried on sheer confidence, rhythm punching through the galley as surely as any practiced tune.

"Oh mark it down, mark it down, ink it black and better,
Every debt and every drop goes in the ferret’s ledger!
Take your share and take it fast, never leave it wetter.
What’s the point of livin’ if you don’t live clever?"

A few paws were already thumping along. A few voices—half a beat late, half a note off—latched onto the chorus, drawn in by its easy bite.

Griblo didn’t slow.

"We trade in the dark and we trade in the light,
We trade in the middle of a squall at night,
If you’ve socks to spare or a bottle to hide,
We’ll weigh it and grin and stand by your side!"

Another sharp thump of the cup, a flash of teeth as he leaned into it, letting the room carry the next lines with him.

"Oh mark it down, mark it down, ink it black and better.
Every debt and every drop goes in the ferret’s ledger!
Take your share and take it fast, never leave it wetter.
What’s the point of livin’ if you don’t live clever?"

By now the rhythm had settled deep into the boards, into the benches, into the beasts themselves.

And then—just slightly—his tone softened.

"But coin don’t warm you in a storm-tossed sea,
And gold don’t laugh when the deck rolls free,
A full hold’s fine, but a full crew’s finer.
No ledger beats a table full o’ diners."

The words hung a fraction longer, carried on the roll of the ship and the steady drum of rain above.

Then the grin returned, bright and crooked as ever, and he drove them into the last chorus with a final, ringing beat.

"So mark it down, mark it down, ink it bold together,
Every beast that shares the deck shares the ferret’s ledger.
Take your share and take it fast, but leave some for your neighbor.
What’s the point of profit if you’ve no one left to savor?"

The last line landed with a sharp crack of cup against wood.

Griblo let the echo ride a moment, chest rising with the exertion, eyes flicking over the gathered beasts, the noise, the warmth of it all.

Then he snorted softly, giving the cup a small, satisfied tilt.

 

[Herman Lasichin]

"My sinceer apologies", Herman said to Freya, clearly much more concerned about what she thought than what Griblo did. He couldn't have better demonstrated his sincerity than by turning to Griblo, raising an empty mug he had already forgotten how it got there, or whether it was his or somebody else's. "Ghe'ets yeh I'm raaf! Donnt mess vid de maghistr!"

Well, not that time. He actually showed understanding of what he did when he paused speaking, lowered his mug, and then continued speaking in his unforced accent.

"Look heer, I'll bai ye the drinks ven vuh at de bar nest ta'im, dakort? nau sing und sing vell."

Herman wasn't disappointed, and showed it like everyone else by beating the rhythm of the song against the table and singing along. Unfortunately he was just a little bit more accurate than the others, which once again made him stand out and almost made it seem as if he was Griblo's designated drummer and helping vocalist.

"Mark it daun! Mark it daun! Ink et black en bettar!"

He did however let Griblo shine through, especially whenever he said "ferret's ledger". He was too drunk to be respectful and sing "ferret's ledger", but wasn't drunk enough to start a mustelid war by singing "weasel's ledger" instead. Thus he was selectively loud, selectively silent, until the song finally ended and he joined in the cheering and applause.

"Griblo, ye should sing mor, und bodr less!"

He slammed his paw against the table, and then slumped over it, finally taking a break from his disorderly conduct.

 

[Freya McFjorl]

"Ow, ow, ow, ow—" Freya chirped as Korya berated her with a barrage of tiny punches.

With a dramatic flick of her wrist to her forehead, even as the beatings transitioned into a slow massage, she let out a loud 'BLEH' and leaned heavier atop the tiny wildcat to smush her between her and Vilde's bodies. As the two large, fluffy Wildcats smothered her, Freya looked up to Vilde with eyes sparkling and cheeks warm with drink, chuckling quietly to herself and thoroughly distracted.

But then Griblo began to sing.

Drawn as though on a string, she righted herself, unsquishing the little leopard cat. Each ear twitched independently as she focused in on the ferret's voice.

She was caught in the siren's song.

Inexorably, her large, fluffy paws began to drum against the table with the beat, each hit deep and booming. While she wasn't confident enough in her Vulpinsulan to sing along, the steady, infectious beat was kept by her and many others in the Mess.

And as he reached the last pair of verses, the Lynx's flesh stippled into goose pimples and set her fur bristling in a wave across her body. How much she had begun to care for this crew in just a few days worth of sailing—her new family caught amid the waves and the storm.

With a sniffle and small shake to settle the rest of her fur, Freya's departure from the bench was foretold by a loud squeak as she pushed it away from the table. Standing back up to her full, menacing height—eartips crumpled against the ceiling even at a hunch—she sniffled again and stepped over to the ferret in a few massive strides.

Then, looking down at him for a sole few moments, she drew him into the warmest, fluffiest—just a touch damp—and most crushing hug. This lasted until she could hear the ferret struggling to draw breath, just beginning to wriggle in her grasp.

Releasing him with a soft sob, she pat him once on his little furry head before throwing up her arms to address the Mess:

"MORE GROG FOR EVERYBEAST!"

As the crowd erupted into cheers and racous laughter, she swept up the mugs for her table and made off towards the barrel.

"Come, who is next? Ve must have more songz!" She cheered, casually dunking the mugs into the barrel of grog to refill them. As her golden eyes searched the Mess, they glittered far more than any gilder. "Or storiez perhapz...?"

 

[Korya]

Sandwiched between Vilde and Freya, Korya's feelings towards both suddenly got both very confused, and very, very certain. A crackling purr roared up in her chest, and her ears drooped when she was no longer being pancaked. She felt giddy, tipsy, and wanted to whisper something in Vilde's ear in regards to other places they might sandwich Korya later, but the pounding of paws and Griblo's voice made it impossible for her to even hear her own voice when she joined in.

Korya tipped over suddenly as Freya pushed their bench away from their table, but quickly grabbed on and righted herself with a nervous giggle. She cheered and resumed her chant of "Grib-lo! Grib-lo!" up until the announcement of grog was made, then let out a feral scream -

---

Cryle started in her hammock. She rolled over, pulling her coat around her ears.

"'Gates, Korya... get murdered some other night, not now..."

The pounding of paws had almost blended in with the pounding of rain above decks. She'd been this close to drowning it all out. Now she had to start all over again, while feeling like her hammock was slung upside-down and she was hanging from the ceiling. A gurgle in her tummy roused her further, and she shed her clothes and glasses without shame and scrambled to the head for a second time. The cold rain slamming down around and upon her was almost a relief from the turmoil inside.

---

- followed by a "GROOOOOG, gimmegimmegimmegimmegimme!"

She bounced on the bench, tail practically turning into a propeller. But she was patient, and could wait for more. A sudden crack of thunder had her ears flat again, and she leaned back against Vilde to make sure the larger cat wasn't scared. That reminded her...

"I have a story!"

Korya scrambled to her footpaws, standing on the bench with one paw on Vilde's shoulder for balance against the sway of the ship.

"It takes place on a night much like this, in a land far, far away. But not a sea, no. This story happens in but one room of a large manor, nestled proud atop one of the greatest mountains of the Norrthlands. A story that will strike fear into the hearts of all who hear it, so terrifying, so chilling, you'll think you might have just been transported to those lands yourself! A true story, aye, one that happened to a beast in this very mess... me!"

She raised a fist, striking a heroic pose. As the beasts settled down with their new mugs of grog and grew quiet to listen, she climbed up onto the table itself and continued:

"Now this story might feel like a fantasy... a tale of other realms that seem impossible. But I swear on my fists it happened exactly as I will tell it.

"I was but a kitten then, small and gamey, but fierce!"

"Aye, so nothin' changed?" somebeast barked out with a chortle and a few jittering laughs from others.

"Hush! I'll punch you. Later! So I was in my bed, the rain was pattering down all over, thunder was crashing like the mountain itself was coming apart and rumbling over the house! And I had a fever, my head hurt and was hot, and I'd eaten much too much ice cream to cool it down, and could not get comfortable in bed. I tossed and turned, kicking my sheets off, then crawling back under, until I gave up trying and decided to get up and play with some toys. I was into blocks then, building beautiful battlements for Korya the Destrorya to kick over... Anyway!

"I slid off my bed and made my way to the wall where I knew my toy shelf was. And to my great surprise... it wasn't! I wondered if maybe somebeast had come in and moved it before I'd gone to bed, so I called out for help, I mean, someone to explain why they'd taken my toys! ...but nobeast came. It was late, and all the staff had gone to sleep. I was on my own, left to solve the mystery.

"So I went to the door, but the door wasn't there, either!" Another crash of thunder accentuated this revelation at the perfect moment. Korya grinned fangily.

"I re-traced my pawsteps, back to my bed, or so I thought... but... to my surprise, the room had grown larger all on its own, and I was just met with another empty wall. So I turned around again, and went back... Aha! My bed! I could feel the soft sheets, and began to climb up. But here is where it grows more strange! As I hooked my claws in and pulled myself higher and higher, I never found the top of the bed. I was swaying in the sky, clinging to bedsheets that just went on and on forever. I wondered if, perhaps, I had been transported to the sails of some lofty ship... But no, there was no wind. It smelled like my room, still, and the rain and thunder continued.

"I tried to climb down, but a sense of terror gripped me. Aye, Korya the Destrorya can feel fear, in very special circumstances! Climbing down was a lot harder than climbing up, and so I grit my teeth and journeyed ever upwards to this new realm. Eventually, after what felt like hours of climbing and swinging to and fro on the sheet, I found something solid. It was a long, thin pole, and above... there was nothing but more wall. I hauled myself up on that pole, if only to rest my claws.

"And there I stayed throughout the night. Through the thunder and rain and the cold, empty silence of a house that wouldn't answer any call I tried. Not for my mother, not for my pa, not for anybeast whose names I knew, or even ones I didn't. I was thoroughly alone in this strange realm I had climbed my way into... but there was hope. For as the night grew late, a warmth came from below..."

Korya gave a sudden yawn. Ears and nose twitched, and she turned and climbed down and settled herself back on the bench.

"In the end... after I'd explained my predicament to the maid who came to wake me for breakfast... She led me around to the other side of the bed and showed me the toy shelf was still there..." She grinned with a sad, silly sort of expression. "I'd spun myself around and woke up on the wrong side of the bed. The side of the room I'd never been before... I'd never needed to... there was no furniture there at all, just a curtain on the window... which also wasn't needed at all, and they took it down after that."

She ducked her head and buried her face in the grog Freya provided her.