Open Madness Or Brilliance

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

Oblivious to the rubbing of somebeast's face on the other side of his doors, Jeshal gave Calara a nod as he took back the roster.

"Aye, the big rat ye likely saw shouting about out there, Frogear. Currently appointed bosun. He'll show ye ter your bunk-slash-hammock space. I believe Acting Cap'n Keltoi be giving some further orientation in a few hours, otherwise get y'self acquainted with the ship, make friends and enemies, that sort o' thing. We'll be underway before ye know it."

He offered the otter a wink.

"Send the next one in, thanking ye."

@Calara Driftsong @Korya
(Feel free to timeskip an NPC or two having been in and out of me cabin after Calara's had chance to take leave)​

 

[Calara Driftsong]

"Aye, Cap'n," said the otter, dipping her head in the sharp nod that was about as close as she'd ever gotten to a salute. Seeing as the vulpine was the sort of beast who winked, she didn't imagine he'd mind the technical lack of decorum.

Taking care as she turned to keep from hitting anything with her javelin or her thick rudder of a tail, Calara pulled the door open and immediately found herself at a loss. Of all the things she had expected to see upon her return to the deck, a small, spotted cat cuddling the doorjamb wasn't among the top ten things she had imagined. It hadn't been on the list at all, truth be told.

The sea did call all sorts.

Calara coughed once, softly. "I b'lieve the cap'n is ready for you, miss."

And with that, she went off to find Frogear.

 

[Korya]

"Brilliant!" Korya gurgled, wiping a bit of drool from her mouth as she stood straighter. Her cheek felt sufficiently less itchy now, but in a way that longed to keep being scratched. "A whole Captain, eh!"

She tilted her head up at where the voice had been, and kept her ear flicking towards the receding pawsteps for a moment, before sidling inside, clutching her lunch package to her chest. Her free paw lingered against the door as she padded inside, then her arm swung around as if she were pushing a crate before her. When her paw hit desk, she stopped.

"Hello, Captain!"

She reached up, patting the top of the desk back and forth. My, what a tall desk! She pushed aside some papers or other, and unceremoniously unwrapped her lunch and thumped the bowl of spicy, but lukewarm noodles down. The old Smelt wrappings she crumpled up into a ball and threw off to the side without a care.

"I'm your new Head Chef, Korya Preykova, no relation whatsoever to the Preykova Trading Company, which is run by a cruel hag of a feline! I've brought you your breakfast, or possibly second breakfast!"

She tilted her head up again to try and present her face - something she'd often struggled with when speaking to others. The result was her apparently staring at the ceiling, little ears perked to attention and thick tail poofed out behind her in an instinctual attempt to look imposing.

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

Jeshal watched as the diminutive cat made her impaired way towards his desk. His eyeline followed the shoving of the paperwork before it slid back to witness the bowl of worms before him. No, not worms. Noodles? Furrowed brow accompanied his gaze once again, flicking along the path of the discarded paper that now littered his cabin floor.

"Head Chef, ye say? 'Tis an ambition what must be earned, Ms Preykova. To begin, sample a bit of this breakfast on offer yourself then if ye would be divulging any references, qualifications, or experience?"​

 

[Korya]

"Oh, certainly. Sample as in... eat some? Don't mind at all!"

She patted at the desk again, gently this time, and scooped up the bowl. Her other paw circled around the rim until her fingers touched the pair of chopsticks sticking out, and expertly finagled them into her grip. Like extensions of her fingers, she managed to swirl around a heap of noodles around a large shrimp, and stuffed the whole thing into her mouth.

Cheeks bulging as she chewed, she continued speaking.

"I sup-pose if you need references, you can ask the Preykova Trading Company, still no relation, mm-gnarf, but I was taught by the founder and head administrator's personal chefs. I've opened my own restaurant in the Slups, gnargnarckle, and I've sold many bowls of spicy noodles there! Some happy customers." She finally swallowed. "And I own my own frying pan."

Korya took another large bite of the noodles, leaving a little more than half the bowl, and slid it back onto the desk.

She tucked her paws under her chin and tried to make a thoughtful expression, which she did by scrunching her nose and eyes shut, while still chewing. "It can't be that hard to cook for a crew of a ship, right? It's like, mm-charkmple, what, a dozen beasts?"

 

[Kiptooth Rowanheart]

Well she was a charming vixen, and Kiptooth’s smile broadened into a grin at her flattery, even if the cynic in him wasn’t too sold on managing a great many years more. He need not reflect on his own mortality long, however: bemusement soon settled on his face when Corda explained the accommodations required.

“As you will, Ms LaConte,” Kiptooth agreed, “though in medical emergencies I’d appreciate you staying at post if you can: there are many beasts aboard here and more paws can make a world of difference.” His expression softened again, hoping to allay her concerns: she must care deeply about her sibling if she was following him so closely. "I can assure you that whilst the sea is far from an easy life, your brother will be perfectly safe going about his duties. I take it you have often followed his whims?”

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

From instinct, it seemed unlikely this cat was out to poison him, Jeshal considered. Then again, there was always the possibility of expert buffoonery among clever spies. He would have her claim of restaurant ownership verified before they left port. Assuming he chose to let her sign on. He probably would regardless. A ship like this needed every set of paws it could get. That was a shock he was having to get past.

A small smile touched the captain's muzzle.

"Oh, aye, not many more, lass. Around eight hundred souls."

Without looking away, he called out.

"Raposa!"

Creeping in from the quarter galley came what must have been a vixen by her brush and paws. Bangles covered her arms, her body mostly concealed by an oversized cloak, but her most striking feature was the pieces of fox skull she wore as a mask.​

 

[Korya]

Korya's tail, which had started to settle to its normal amount of poof, suddenly poofed to its maximum. A lesser beast would have spat out in surprise, but she was not one to waste such a deliciously stomach-scalding mouthful - cold as the noodles themselves were. Still, a tiny, pointy shard of babycorn sailed from her lips and landed somewhere among the paperwork on the desk.

"E...eigh...t..." Swallow. "Hundred?"

Her head tilted, ears flicking towards the steps and light jinglings of the newcomer. Other than that, the little cat stood perfectly still, mouth slightly agape in shock.

"...there will be helpers, right... chef's helpers..."

Her voice felt distant, even to her. She stopped talking and rocked back and forth on her heels. Her poor little frying pan and noodle pot. With that many customers, all day long, they'd never be cold again. Was it even possible? Did that many beasts even exist?! All one one little ship?! How... how big was this ship, anyway?

 

[Corda LaConte / Cordan LeConte]

Well she was a charming vixen, and Kiptooth’s smile broadened into a grin at her flattery, even if the cynic in him wasn’t too sold on managing a great many years more. He need not reflect on his own mortality long, however: bemusement soon settled on his face when Corda explained the accommodations required.

“As you will, Ms LaConte,” Kiptooth agreed, “though in medical emergencies I’d appreciate you staying at post if you can: there are many beasts aboard here and more paws can make a world of difference.” His expression softened again, hoping to allay her concerns: she must care deeply about her sibling if she was following him so closely. "I can assure you that whilst the sea is far from an easy life, your brother will be perfectly safe going about his duties. I take it you have often followed his whims?”

Corda hesitated at the question. She hadn't expected such genuine warmth from the doctor, not after the scalding she'd received on deck from the other surgeon. The insightful and well-intended inquiry was similarly surprising. "I... Yes," she admitted, her gaze tilting to the floor as her ears lowered in shame. "It is fair to say that the course of my life has often been in the service of his happiness. After all, at least one of us deserves to feel happy." She raised her eyes to meet the doctor's as she stated, "I will do all I can to keep him from tearing me from my duties. He can be... willful at times." It was certainly an understatement; negotiating a division of time between them when they lacked any direct communication was tricky. They'd tried leaving messages for each other, but the experience had been so frightening and alien for them both that they'd abandoned it quickly. In a way, it was easier for them to handle the world without context, each trusting that the other would be better positioned to deal with what they encountered than the other.

A thought occurred to Corda, one that struck her as a risk - but then again, if the captain knew about her condition, then surely the other officers would learn about it soon enough. Hesitantly, Corda voiced her inquiry. "Doctor, have... have you ever encountered a case of two souls occupying one body? A beast who is one soul in the morning, and another in the afternoon?" It was an inelegant way of describing the condition, but as close as she dared without outing herself immediately.

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

Doubtless the errant babycorn shard would be discovered later at an inopportune moment. Jeshal was too busy savouring this small amount of sadism in watching the little queen panic. He beckoned for the eerie vixen — not that Korya could see she was so — to approach the desk and gestured to the noodle bowl, then sought to enact a rescue.

"But of course, there be several assistant cooks on this vessel and many a deckswab to lend a paw fer potato peelin'. Few beasts be alone in their positions. Ms Raposa, sample this gift, if ye please."

Layla grinned, half her teeth capped with silver. She procured a fork from her cloak in much the manner one might reveal a knife, purely as a display for the captain, and took up the bowl. The fork was set upon the table next to Jeshal, anticipating his wants. She instead used the chopsticks, much to his annoyance. A sniff here, a lick there, then she shovelled in a mouthful. She chewed and savoured and swallowed.

"Shimmer radiant sunset, pretty boy," the old vixen chuckled. "Blessings!" The bowl was placed before him.

"Hmm," said Jeshal. "I see. Raposa, what have I told ye about those old manners?"

"Sorries. Pretty captain?"

"Better. You may go. Now then, Preykova, as I be saying, there be plenty of other lesser assistants in the galley. My taster be offering her compliments fer this recipe o' yours."​

 

[Korya]

Korya's fangs slowly released her bottom lip. Shimmer radiant sunset. Those were certainly words. Words that stung a little, in how differently they meant to her than everybeast else she knew. But... to everybeast else, those were good words. Happy words. Her ears sagged, but her tail remained at full mast.

"Er, thankee, Ms. or Mrs. Raposa. And thankee Captain."

Pretty captain. Mentally filing that away. Handsome, or pretty? Such a strange old lady, plus some of the stories around the Slups, hard to know for sure without outright asking. Well, none of her concern! Beasts could be whatever they chose to be, just as she'd chosen to be a runaway noodle chef by day, underground ring boxer by night. If she ever found the underground ring to box in.

"So! I'll have lots of assistants? They'll do all the things like... making sure my cooking area isn't messed with and all the spices and everything is where I left it last, and make sure that the larders are full, and... and... what else, the measuring... I'm pretty good with a knife myself, you know! I only nick myself a little anymore, but I can chop with the best of 'em. Of course, as head chef, I'll be doing the meal planning, personal meals for the officers, and - oh! Ms. Raposa, what meals do you like best? ...is she still here? What meals do you like best, pretty Captain, sir?"

Oops, that was a slip. She offered a face-splitting grin. The only reason it wasn't a nervous face-splitting grin was because she had no idea what nervous looked like. The flicks of her ears might have given it away, though...

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

Jeshal indulged in a roll of the eyes, thankful that his current guest could not see it. Although Korya's expressions did not convey her nerves, the number of questions were enough for him to decide to let a second 'pretty' slide. He could nip it in the bud if it continued. Probably. Better that than Tox's Ironbum. Layla had rustled and rattled back out onto the balcony where she had been deployed for just these sorts of matters, content to sit knitting in the breeze.

"Before we get ahead of ourselves, miss, I'll be assigning ye to an assistant role in the first instance. High up, mind, should ye accept. Do well, ye'll find yourself the run of the place soon enough. Our current chef be on loan 'til an official decision be made. Tis me understanding meals have changed somewhat since I were last in the Imperium, a great many more fruits and greens nowadays, although not typically consisting of what ye have here." He tugged the strange bowl closer to him. "Meat, fruit, veggies, and bread be our staples; ship's biscuits; and tot rations. Given a choice, I be favouring a nice stuffed trout and a mug o' cider. That aside, let it not be said that we don't try new things around these waters. Let's see now."

Not even daring to attempt using chopsticks for the first time, Jeshal used the fork to entangle some noodles. He ate a mouthful.

This was not the era for MinoInn to discover nuclear fission. Nevertheless, a similar reaction birthed in the captain's brain. 'Fire' did not even cover it. Metal claws gripped the wood of his desk as he carefully set the spoon down. She would not see how wide his eyes were, the twitch of his cheek muscles. She might hear the glacial pace of his measured breathing.

"I think there... might be a call for... something blander for the crew."​

 

[Korya]

Korya let out a long sigh. A mere assistant. Her, the best noodle chef in the Imperium, genius entrepurrneur, spice-savant of the Northlands... reduced to simply... assisting.

Well, accidents happened, and loans had to be repaid eventually.

She wasn't convinced anybeast actually ate ship's biscuits. She'd had one, once, as a dare, and had lost the rest of her milkteeth as a result. Her fangs still ached to recall. ...or had it been a rock? She'd been really drunk at the time, hadn't she...

"Trout, stuffed, cider," she murmured. "Yes, sir, Captain, sir. And... we can certainly do less spice for the crew. It is quite expensive, after all."

After her own noodle business had taken a bit on the nose, she'd been given a lecture on just exactly how much things usually cost around Bully. Her estimations had been way off. One would think sulking at a dinner table during trade negotiations would have prepared her for bartering for simple goods... after all, it was only one pepper, what could it cost? Ten gilders? Try twenty! But just one "Deepgrave" pepper could be stretched for nearly fifteen bowls of noodles without losing potency... Divided by eight hundred... No, no - there would be someone else to handle all that. She just had to handle the food. Some of the food.

She shook her head, tail drooping. Assistant. Bleh!

"Alright, I s'pose I better get cooking, then, got seven hundred and ninety-nine more mouths to feed... where's the kitchen? Don't worry, I can find my way! It, er, isn't a problem, is it, my blindness? I bet you didn't even know!" She preened, puffing her chest and smoothing her ears back. "I'm pretty good at hiding it!"

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

It was an odd feeling delivering so many disappointments in one day. Jeshal had served as captain so many years ago and he had been fortunate enough not to have received promotion requests. Not serious ones, anyway. Perhaps it was more unfortunate, not having the experience of facing prospective crew who arrived expecting better from the off. Back in my day, I be expecting naught but a mop. But then, what did I even have to me name? Wits, literacy, and a vendetta. Ah well, piss 'em off now and let them appreciate their rewards all the more after our first run.

Such thoughts were barely sufficient to distract him whilst his eyes and nose were watering and his tongue screamed.

"'Tis... no concern if it be none o' yours, lass.” He wanted to mention he recalled a blind beast on his ship long ago, but the faster he could draw this to a close, the better for everyone involved. “If there be accommodations ye be needing,” he added, stifling a sort of whined hiccup, “make your requests and what will be done will be. Ship’s galley be on the mid gundeck. Follow the scent o' morning porridge. If ye’d make your” — *wheeze* — “mark on the roster or I’ll claim the honour.”

He pushed the only slightly stained roster toward her along with a dipped quill.​

 

[Korya]

Korya visibly bristled at the suggestion of accommodations. It didn't take growing up with sight to know how to make a foul, angry face; that was pure instinct. It was more insulting to her than not being given the position she'd randomly waltzed in to claim.

So was porridge. She'd fix that right up. Toss it all in the sea. Fix up some proper breakfasts... Some blood puddings and - oh, right, mark...

"I can write," she proudly proclaimed, approaching the desk once again at the sound of something scraping that wasn't a utensil in a bowl. "I can do my whole name! First and last! Which do you need? Both? I'll go with first, sounds like you've still got a mouthful, tell me when!"

The quill was easy to find. The roster required the Captain to nudge it into her paw. She mrrped in thanks and ran a finger along the edge of the paper. And then proceeded to ignore it.

It started out well, she got the first line of the K down, on the paper, and then a nearby < which didn't quite connect, followed by an O quite a bit larger than both, and inside the O was another line for the R, with a ) and a \ scritched just outside. And then The Y veered off the paper and onto the desk itself, followed by a /\ on an entirely different piece of paper, and a - up and to the right of that.

 

[Kiptooth Rowanheart]

The poor girl. He could not hope to know her full story, but from what little she had disclosed there was a simmering sense of righteous anger for her situation. The seas were a harsh place to live, perilous and exhausting and more often than not incredibly dull alongside the discomforts of rations and shifts: that she should make such sacrifices for the sake of her brother spoke of her commitment, but what of the brother? Was he wilfully ignorant to her sacrifice or did he know but not care? Had she even told him as much? It was not his argument to become involved in, but his heart went out to the young vixen regardless.

Kiptooth nodded as she explained, smiling in what he hoped communicated understanding. Whatever the situation was it would likely come to light in the coming weeks, and as strict as expectations were for attendance it would be easy enough to offer her flexibility with this notice and understanding. The Hide had coped with all sorts before and he wagered this would be no great issue.

Corda’s sudden query caught him off guard however, and the marten blinked rapidly behind his spectacles. “I…have actually, yes,” he said, somewhat wistfully, “as well as those who may seem as much when their tempers shift as though they are another beast altogether.” It was for the best that he didn’t disclose who that was. An inkling nagged at the back of his mind, but did not yet catch hold to the relevance as wiry brows lowered. “Why do you ask?”

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

It irked the captain that his ‘take it or leave it’ offer of assistance was snubbed as though he’d spat in her unseeing eyes. He had deliberately chosen the middle path to be courteous. Still, strokes and folks and all that. Jeshal did not tend to be irritated by inferences that he was incapable with his left paw. However, he was a creature who enjoyed being dishonest and not always seen for exactly what he was, and what was one paw compared to an entirely different way of being? He could not possibly compare to her experience.

He made no comment on the artistic rendition of signature Korya performed. The bilge and head duty roster wasn’t completely ruined.

“Thanking ye,” said Jeshal, his eyes red and streaming, the brushing of tears masked as a scratch of his chin. “Welcome aboard. Tell the... next beast ter give it... five minutes afore they come in.”​

 

[Korya]

Korya suppressed a trill. Briefly, and then let it out, a proud little rumbling mrrp-rrp-rrp. It would have gotten her ear clipped at the dinner table - not by a parent, as they would be sitting too far away, but a butler or some table-setting assistant would have done the honors on their behalf. Then someone would have said, "Use your words, like a civilized beast." And then some guest or other would have tried to clear up the tension by complimenting her bonnet, and then she'd throw something expensive off the balcony later that evening, just to hear it crash down the mountainside.

This ship was going to be an adventure. Away from the stifling worry of home, out from under her new caretaker's wing - not that she wasn't grateful, but... Hm, she'd have to go tell her about this signing up on a ship business.

She cleared her throat.

"Thank you as well, Cap'n." Cap'n! That sounded nice and sea-beasty. "I'll get right on that!"

She turned smartly, and walked forward with confidence towards the wall next to the cabin door. A little patting, ah... there it was. Was it a knob or a latch, now... Aha. Got it.

Her tail flicked back and forth as she leaned out on the deck. Sounded like somebeast was stamping back and forth...

"Hello there! Captain says he's ready for you whenever, soon as you like! He's eating, mind you, but just go on in he says. Good luck! He's a mean one."

 

[Corda LaConte / Cordan LeConte]

Corda took a deep breath, then glanced about out the door before closing it, standing with her back to it. "The captain knows," Corda admitted, "and he signed us both onto the crew anyway, so I presume he would want me to inform you. Still, I... I would prefer it not be widely circulated among the crew yet. Those who know rarely react positively."

She took a deep breath before confessing, "My brother and I share one body. Mother used to say that we must have been meant to be twins, but we joined together in the womb. It wasn't until we were... six, perhaps? Maybe seven? That I became aware of him, and he began to assert himself. When he awoke, I slept; when I slept, he awoke. And, of course, at night we both slept," she clarified. She hoped he wouldn't ask about the matter of their shared dreams; that was a strange and unsettling world that filled her with dread every evening for the hellscape in which she and her brother would be trapped together. "We learned to trade off control between us rather frequently; I would do the mundane work, handling those tasks and obligations that bored him, and he would..." She swallowed, her words lost. Images of her father's face, fury laced with the stench of tabacco and wine, obscured her memory. "He protected me otherwise," she managed at last, "and then I would clean up after him, patch up whatever wounds arose, whether on us or on those who became targets of his... exuberance." She fiddled with her pawfingers, the white cloth gloves doing nothing to surpress the ghostly sensation of sticky blood coating them.

She hurried to add, "He isn't a violent beast, sir. He aspires to heroics, like the swashbuckling legends of old; that was why he joined under Captain Ironclaw, to make a name for himself. I promise, sir, you'll never have any threat from him. I simply... I wouldn't want to alarm you, sir, should you meet him, or if he were to awaken in a moment of danger."