- Character Biography
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My dear reader, if you have come to this thread not having read the story of Anithias Reedom and Aramaeus lemon, it's best to first read Much ado about dead beasts, or the importance of being Anithias before continuing with this one. The two main characters there will be immensely important in this saga. Yes, I said both, readers who carefully read every single one of my lines will be greatly rewarded by the grand reveal and untangling at the end, where the golden-furred ministry official will play a role, and while the less attentive ones will be forced to flip pages back to remember who on earth "Aramaeus La Mont" is, you dear reader will be able to watch on smugly and then continue reading for the more interesting parts.
First, we need to do something that no fogey or inspecteur ever managed or dared to do, and that was to follow Archibald Rightsbeast's whereabouts after he has wacked a beast. He has just barely managed to get into an alley, with only his back and tail visible to the destressed witness, and after a few turns and bends, got out onto the disarray of houses where he lived for the first 16 years of his life. It got even more disarrayed while he was away, many houses were ruinned, rebuilt or otherwise changed, new ones sprung out of the ground where there was empty land before, and others were gone and only left behind some grass and dirt, as if the construction became sick of this place, packed up and left. Some well meaning city official tried to bring order to the chaos, placing numbers on each house in something resembling a sensible order, but since then quite a few numbers disappeared, and what was meant to be a street sign was knocked down and there were bite marks over the wooden pole. Wack bats and wack balls littered the ground, carts and crates were left empty and abandoned, and the few creatures mingling outside were going about their day without joy, without pride, with as much emotion as clockwork. Except that clockwork didn't stop when it spotted a well groomed fox standing taller than most beasts it had ever seen carrying a recently used baton in its right paw.
Archibald quickly put his weapon back and began moving. He didn't account for his transformation. He must have looked very out of place in the neighborhood he grew up in. It was obvious that his neighbors wouldn't recognise him and would wonder where he came from. But certainly his own family would spot him, they would recognise him and greet him. They must be wondering where he was all these years, and he would tell them whatever lies would make them happy, but not out of malace, only out of necessity. They would understand everything in time. He could stop it some day some time and then it would have all paid off. He could buy them anything, land, titles, positions, everything that they needed to make their name shine as it should always have.
He found his family's house, a little quaint cottage, its back up against another similar building and in front of it was an arrangement of empty vases. Liera couldn't have let them pull out her flowers like this, but if she wasn't here to stop them, where was she?
He knew who to ask. The two older foxes carrying boxes out of the house, their faces grim and miserable. He could recognise them in the blinding light and in the grit of darkness. He met the todd's eyes, then the vixen's. They both stopped, looked at him, and then moved on.
Archibald trembled, even though it wasn't cold. He couldn't stop his arms, legs and paws from shaking. How didn't they recognise him? How didn't they greet him, no, how didn't they rush towards him, hug him as strongly as they could, break down in tears and beg him to come into the house and tell them what happened? That was what his parents would have done. Fedour and Ronda would have raced each other to the bottom of a ditch to show how much they loved their offspring. Him especially. But as he turned around and began walking away he realized that his eyes weren't lying, and that thus his idea of the two beasts he thought loved him the most were wrong.
There was one more beast here he wanted to visit. Especially now that his parents didn't know who he was, and both his siblings fled the nest while he was away. The last person tying him to this place. The last loose thread perhaps? No, it was his Uncle Laskit. He was family. Family was different from some random beast in Alkamar. He could explain to him what went on while he was away, and he would agree to keep it to himself. And more importantly he could tell him what happened with his family. He made over to his larger and just a little bit more maintained house, and couldn't help but chuckle at the sign on the door.
4 ROOMS AVAILABLE TO RENT,
10 GILDERS A NIGHT
I HAD THIS SIGN HERE FOR WEEKS AND NOBODY CAME TO RENT
DASH IT ALL TO HELLGATES
Archibald needed Uncle Laskit. He needed him so often while he was in Alkamar, but no beast else had his insight, his cynnical outlook on the imperium and the world at large, or the ability to laugh and make others laugh even with the knowledge that the times were bad and weren't going to get better. He knocked on the door, and was greeted by a short dark-red furred fox in his fifties, with narrow pointed ears, tiny yellow eyes, and the crooked snout that the Rightsbeasts were so infamous for. Some wore it with pride, others with shame, Laskit just had it there, living on as if there wasn't a thing wrong with it.
"Archy?"
Archibald beamed, all the discomforts of the day so far deserting his mind like rats on a sinking ship. He nodded and stepped in, his uncle closing the door behind him. After a few minutes of enthusiastic greetings, hugging, kissing of paws and Laskit convincing his nephew to stay over at least for dinner, they both sat in soft somewhat torn armchairs and began to talk.
"Now Archy, tell me how ya spen' ten years of yer la'fe and come out of it lookin' la'ke the front page of Bella's secret. And na, the guard don't make ya so pretty, so I know you flunked out of those"
laskit's cheerful tone softened what would have otherwise been a hard hit. He hoped he could pretend like he was temporarily off work for the guard and keep them as far away from the truth. That might have worked on Fedour who could make himself believe anything if it would feel good.
"Well, ya almost got it, I was dishonorably discharged durin' tre'enin' and then wen' to Alkamar to work in security"
"Security? Oh I bet you did a gre'et job of guardin' their supermarchés, not a thin' stolen or broken unda yer watch!"
Archibald gave a knowing nod at Laskit. Laskit didn't know the specifics and that was good for him, but he wasn't stupid either, he got the hint. Archibald recounted some of his experiences in the guard, some things he saw in Alkamar, and finally came to his arrival, skipping over the unfortunate episode with Aramaeus Lemon and jumping right ahead to the short meeting with his parents.
"Archy, A'll need a drink for this one, would ya la'ke a glass?"
Archibald shook his head, and eagerly waited for his uncle to return.
"When ya disappeared we all knew it was somethin' wrong. Goodness, I thought they killed ya, honestly wouldn't have been out of their toolbox but let's not dwell on that. Fedour just kept tellin' everyone ya were in the guard but he didn't believe a word of it. Don't know what he believed but you were his golden kit Archy, ya know it. He thought ya were certainly gonna make him proud his way and it didn't happen. Poor Ronda found this lynx, some clerk at the MinoWar buildin', and just kept askin' 'bout you, how ya were doin'. He didn't tell her the whole story thank him for it, just somethin' la'ke how ya didn't make it. She just wouldn't buy it though, she asked if you were part of some secret group or some such which is silly because a group ain't secret if Ronda knows about it, if Ronda knows a thin' the whole harbor will find out 'bout it."
Laskit refilled his glass and took another swig. Archibald was silent and listening intently.
"They just ain't the beasts ya remember Archy, Fedour was so disappointed with what happened with ya and Ronda was the same but she was also worried for ya. Not that it makes what they did any better, they just didn't give a damn 'bout Liera and Irene, not even a tenth 'z much 'z they gave 'bout you. None of this is yer fault mind ya, it's all for them..."
"What happened to Liera and Irene?", Archibald asked seeing that Laskit was struggling to find words.
"Oh, Liera ran out and didn't look back. She could've fallen ra'it through the ground la'ke ya did, but I see her 'round, tending bars and hopefully that's all. As for Irene, goodness, I still can't believe it happened, but Fedour chased her out. Somethin' silly 'bout a neighbor, she ran and now keeps getting herself in trouble with the fogeys. I want to get at her but I'm an old beast Archy, can't keep up."
Archibald was overwelmed with the news he got. He didn't even know what to say. He just shook his head and looked into blank space.
"I should've let ya rest Archy, that journey must've been tough. I'll go make sure your room is ready"
"Oh, you're wonderful, it's ten gilders, ra'it?"
"Who are you kiddin'? You're my nephew for Judge Ra'itsbeast's sake, I ain't gonna charge ya for stayin' over at muh place!"
-- -- -- --
A good night's sleep was what Archibald needed to clear his head. Next morning he rose with the sun, quickly got himself dressed and went into the kitchen where Laskit was getting breakfast ready.
"Yer petty dejuner, missyur",
Laskit said with a grin, seemingly unbothered by Archibald's discomfort.
"Look, A'm still from here, just cuz muh fur's straight don't mean A'm with them alkies"
"Yur tra'in' too hard dawgcat, ya've been pretending over there so long ya can't stop pretendin' here."
"Ok Laskit, give me some of yer advais, how should I act?"
"Just be yerself muh Archy! You ain't a stage beast to be actin'."
"Well, my uncle, that reminds me that I should tell ya, don't be spreadin' word about me, or be yellin' 'bout Archy in public"
"I would never yell, but is this 'bout yer security work?"
"Yeh, if we're out an' about and need to use muh name call me Anithias Reedom"
Laskit dropped the plates on the table in shock, looking up at his nephew clearly struggling to keep up with what he was saying.
"Yur kiddin', ra'it?"
"Na, safety reasons, security job, 'member?"
"Why not call yerself Jollie Swifttail and not Anithias [censored by niceties] Reedom?"
"Jollie Swifttail ain't ra'it, I need same initials 'z muh name"
"Oh dash initials straight to hellgates, now let's eat"
Their conversation picked up right after they had their fill and went into the living room.
"See Laskit, A'm here on an assignment, not for long"
"Archy, you should quit that security thin', take all the money ya have and settle here"
Archibald thought for a little while, before slowly saying.
"I do la'ke it, but no promises, need to see about my clients ya know"
"Oh screw yer cla'ents with a rusty razor, yur ste'in' here and makin' it ra'it, startin' with yerself"
"What wrong with me Laska? Must say A'm doin' much better than either ya or Fedour over there"
"Got nathin' to do with uz, we're dead beasts walkin' and talkin'. Our family has been all but extinguished, Irene and Liera want nathin' to do with it, Alison never thought it worthed a bit, the rest of her side dont even know they're Ra'itsbeasts. And now I need help mo' than ever"
Archibald wanted to speak up but laskit raised his paw and continued.
"There's this land near Zan's, almost outside Bully. I found documents in the la'brary, it was owned by Roughclaw Ra'itsbeast half a hundred years ago, and it was the residence of the Ra'itsbeasts for hundreds of years by then. A'm sure there's somethin' there, but I can't get muh paws on it, the dispute is tough and expensive and the other one, some ugly weasel ferret thing apparently can prove he's the son of the latest owner or somethin'. Archy, please, help me get this, A'm sure if we can fa'ind and get back to our roots it'll all be better."
Archibald's interest was peaked, but he only showed it by occasionally nodding and his ears perking up. Finally he stood up from the table and went towards the door.
"A'll see what I can do Laskit, A'm gonna do muh job then A'm sniffin' around."
He went to his room and did what little preparing he needed. He put on his belt, made sure all his weapons were there, then also pocketed some matches and a bottle of lamp oil in case he needed them. He looked at his notebook, where he wrote down everything he was told by the intelligence agents. He got all the information he needed like address, species, height, weight and training, and also meaningless information like name and pseudonym. He stepped outside and stopped at the door of the living room.
"DO you know where Irene is now?"
"Oh, haven't got a clue. She's at large I think, but know nathin' else"
Laskit was sitting facing away from the door, looking out the window onto the empty street in front of his house.
"I'll find her Laskit, I know how to do it. A'll keep her safe"
"Thank you, oh thank ya so much"
-- -- -- --
"I am safe, I am safe, I am safe"
Louis marquis had to repeat that to himself every day since he made his journey to Vulpinsula. He didn't know whether he was more afraid of the Alkamarian spies and intelligence agents who definitely wanted to kill him, or of the natives who have already tried beating him to death for various reasons, from being unable to speak Vulpinsulan, to carrying too much money, to being an Alkamarian. The vulpinists didn't seem to care that he was a traitor to his country and was more on their side, but maybe he shouldn't have slipped into Alkamarian every other word he said to them. The fact he was living in a very restless, smelly and rude neighborhood also didn't help, and he was starting to doubt the ministry of misanthropy cared about him since they suggested him to go by the name "Luis Marker". "Wouldn't that be too obvious?", he thought, but didn't dare object. It wasn't like he had any better ideas. He was just an office beast, selling chemical research on the side to earn just a little bit more money. He wanted to go on a cruise, or to have a very nice dinner, but the job just didn't pay enough for that alone. And now he lost what little he had before, which was worth much more than anything he wanted to get.
That morning he decided to stay at home and not risk his neck. He was still recovering from the week-old ruises he got from the vulpinists. "Hopefully this will finally be an uneventful day", he thought to himself, and then his rusty shack was shaken by 1, 2, 3 knocks at the door.
"Anithias Reedom, fogey police"
Louis did in fact file a police report with the weirdly named police agency and the ministry of misanthropy, it took them a while but they have finally caught up on the case it seems. The marten bounded over to the door, opened it a crack, and then slowed down. There was that paranoya again. How could he know the beast on the other side was truly Anithias Reedom from the fogey police, and not who knows who else?
The little crack was all that the beast on the other side of the door needed. He pushed the door the rest of the way, got inside, closed it quickly behind him and pulled out a dagger. Archibald spoke in fluent but badly accented Alkamarian.
"Where are the papers?"
"In a safe, I'll unlock it if you let me live, please"
"Unlock the safe and then we'll talk."
Louis was too scared to be glad that there were no mysteries about his visitor now. He felt like his answer didn't quite sound like he was accepting the agreement, and he wanted more assurence that he wasn't going to be killed right after he wasn't useful anymore.
"Put away the weapon and-"
Archibald put the tip of his dagger right against Louis's throat. This silenced Louis and made him more cooperative, leading the red-furred fox into his bedroom. The safe was on the desk in plain sight, with 4 wheels on the front which served as the locking mechanism. Louis tried to look at Archibald's face, to see if there was anything useful he could gage from it. The vulpine's eyes exclusively showed one emotion, boredom.
"Unlock it"
Louis did as he was told, it only took him a few spins of the wheels to make the box go "chuck" and opened to reveal various notebooks and other papers.
"Let's continue talking in your kitchen"
Archibald's words pleasantly surprised Louis, who had all but surrendered to the fact he was going to be killed the second that box opened. That was what he was after, right? Well, he was wrong, Archibald couldn't care less about the box and the Alkamarian government didn't want to retrieve it either. What was important got written down in many more places and what wasn't could be condemned to the flames. In the kitchen he was guided along by the fox, told to turn here, stand there, and then in the middle of yet another instruction the fox stabbed the marten in the throat. He once had a discusssion with a fellow contract killer about the best method to kill a beast, which proved to be very informative to both even though neither of their opinions budged much. Archibald preferred to get at the throat when he could get a sure hit, since it immediately stopped them from screaming, would kill them from something within a few minutes, and wasn't usually guarded by armor. His interlocutor instead preferred the heart, since it was less messy, was just as likely to kill, and his experience made the bodies much easier to transport. Their conversation then shifted to handling bodies, and a few topic shifts later they had to part ways, never to meet again.
Louis was dead, or at least was dead enough. He wasn't moving, he wasn't speaking, and he wasn't being a problem to anyone anymore. Archibald could do what he liked to call household chores. He could have gone the way of his friend, cleaned everything, taken the body somewhere else and made sure there was no scene of the crime at all. He liked more to ruin it completely to immediately give investigators a tough time, the more time they wasted in the ashes, dust and rubble, the more time they couldn't spend catching him. He decided to stage an early morning accident, taking a cough-ee kettle from the table and pouring water into it.
"How do ya like your cough-ee in the mornin'?", he asked the dead Marten on the floor, who gave no answer to the question. Maybe because he actually was more of a tea drinker, and he carried over a few bags of it over from his homeland. Tea could serve just as well. He put it on the stove and lit it. It wasn't a good one, it would probably take a while to boil. That was good for Archibald, he needed a few things to do first. He went to the safe and ripped apart the various papers inside as much as he could, throwing them around the kitchen, hallway and bedroom, before grabbing a lamp in the kitchen and spilling the oil starting from the base of the stove over the hallway, before chucking the rest of it into the bedroom. Judging by the noises coming from the kettle there was probably about 5 minutes until it got too hot, blew up, and the hot water ignited the oil and then set the whole house on fire. Not perhaps a very violent explosion, but it will have to do. He remembered to put his weapon back this time, stepped out, and then made his way away from the shack. He was drawn to the sounds of a bar winding down. This was certainly a strange time to be going for a drink, but he would rather be inside than outside when the shack exploded. He turned onto a street and gave a glance to the name above the door as he entered. "The lilting lily".
"Top of the mornin' to ya", he greeted one of a few beasts inside, giving a glance to the dice and card tables before sitting down.
((OOC: thank you for reading the Herman post to end all Herman posts. There are going to be two subplots to this thread: Archy and other early morning patrons talking at the Lilting Lily, and the investigation of the accident / arcen / murder, who knows what at the smoldering ruins of Louis Marquis's shack. These two subplots can mostly run independently, but maybe they join up together in an interesting way, who knows? I was thinking to have a round of people who want to be involved setting up their character's place, and once that's done I write my response and officially make the big boom happen. This is the first time I'm doing a thread like this so it might be rough around the edges. Needless to say, you can ask questions by sending a DM to the parent account @Herman Lasichin or preferably posting on the discord thread discussion.
Pinging people who will be likely interested: @Keinruf Zvirskyy @Falun Furotazzi @Samuel Grimes (not necessarily you but one of the fogeys for sure), of course MinoMis would want their paws involved in this as well, and anyone else is welcome to throw their character into the madness.))
First, we need to do something that no fogey or inspecteur ever managed or dared to do, and that was to follow Archibald Rightsbeast's whereabouts after he has wacked a beast. He has just barely managed to get into an alley, with only his back and tail visible to the destressed witness, and after a few turns and bends, got out onto the disarray of houses where he lived for the first 16 years of his life. It got even more disarrayed while he was away, many houses were ruinned, rebuilt or otherwise changed, new ones sprung out of the ground where there was empty land before, and others were gone and only left behind some grass and dirt, as if the construction became sick of this place, packed up and left. Some well meaning city official tried to bring order to the chaos, placing numbers on each house in something resembling a sensible order, but since then quite a few numbers disappeared, and what was meant to be a street sign was knocked down and there were bite marks over the wooden pole. Wack bats and wack balls littered the ground, carts and crates were left empty and abandoned, and the few creatures mingling outside were going about their day without joy, without pride, with as much emotion as clockwork. Except that clockwork didn't stop when it spotted a well groomed fox standing taller than most beasts it had ever seen carrying a recently used baton in its right paw.
Archibald quickly put his weapon back and began moving. He didn't account for his transformation. He must have looked very out of place in the neighborhood he grew up in. It was obvious that his neighbors wouldn't recognise him and would wonder where he came from. But certainly his own family would spot him, they would recognise him and greet him. They must be wondering where he was all these years, and he would tell them whatever lies would make them happy, but not out of malace, only out of necessity. They would understand everything in time. He could stop it some day some time and then it would have all paid off. He could buy them anything, land, titles, positions, everything that they needed to make their name shine as it should always have.
He found his family's house, a little quaint cottage, its back up against another similar building and in front of it was an arrangement of empty vases. Liera couldn't have let them pull out her flowers like this, but if she wasn't here to stop them, where was she?
He knew who to ask. The two older foxes carrying boxes out of the house, their faces grim and miserable. He could recognise them in the blinding light and in the grit of darkness. He met the todd's eyes, then the vixen's. They both stopped, looked at him, and then moved on.
Archibald trembled, even though it wasn't cold. He couldn't stop his arms, legs and paws from shaking. How didn't they recognise him? How didn't they greet him, no, how didn't they rush towards him, hug him as strongly as they could, break down in tears and beg him to come into the house and tell them what happened? That was what his parents would have done. Fedour and Ronda would have raced each other to the bottom of a ditch to show how much they loved their offspring. Him especially. But as he turned around and began walking away he realized that his eyes weren't lying, and that thus his idea of the two beasts he thought loved him the most were wrong.
There was one more beast here he wanted to visit. Especially now that his parents didn't know who he was, and both his siblings fled the nest while he was away. The last person tying him to this place. The last loose thread perhaps? No, it was his Uncle Laskit. He was family. Family was different from some random beast in Alkamar. He could explain to him what went on while he was away, and he would agree to keep it to himself. And more importantly he could tell him what happened with his family. He made over to his larger and just a little bit more maintained house, and couldn't help but chuckle at the sign on the door.
4 ROOMS AVAILABLE TO RENT,
10 GILDERS A NIGHT
I HAD THIS SIGN HERE FOR WEEKS AND NOBODY CAME TO RENT
DASH IT ALL TO HELLGATES
Archibald needed Uncle Laskit. He needed him so often while he was in Alkamar, but no beast else had his insight, his cynnical outlook on the imperium and the world at large, or the ability to laugh and make others laugh even with the knowledge that the times were bad and weren't going to get better. He knocked on the door, and was greeted by a short dark-red furred fox in his fifties, with narrow pointed ears, tiny yellow eyes, and the crooked snout that the Rightsbeasts were so infamous for. Some wore it with pride, others with shame, Laskit just had it there, living on as if there wasn't a thing wrong with it.
"Archy?"
Archibald beamed, all the discomforts of the day so far deserting his mind like rats on a sinking ship. He nodded and stepped in, his uncle closing the door behind him. After a few minutes of enthusiastic greetings, hugging, kissing of paws and Laskit convincing his nephew to stay over at least for dinner, they both sat in soft somewhat torn armchairs and began to talk.
"Now Archy, tell me how ya spen' ten years of yer la'fe and come out of it lookin' la'ke the front page of Bella's secret. And na, the guard don't make ya so pretty, so I know you flunked out of those"
laskit's cheerful tone softened what would have otherwise been a hard hit. He hoped he could pretend like he was temporarily off work for the guard and keep them as far away from the truth. That might have worked on Fedour who could make himself believe anything if it would feel good.
"Well, ya almost got it, I was dishonorably discharged durin' tre'enin' and then wen' to Alkamar to work in security"
"Security? Oh I bet you did a gre'et job of guardin' their supermarchés, not a thin' stolen or broken unda yer watch!"
Archibald gave a knowing nod at Laskit. Laskit didn't know the specifics and that was good for him, but he wasn't stupid either, he got the hint. Archibald recounted some of his experiences in the guard, some things he saw in Alkamar, and finally came to his arrival, skipping over the unfortunate episode with Aramaeus Lemon and jumping right ahead to the short meeting with his parents.
"Archy, A'll need a drink for this one, would ya la'ke a glass?"
Archibald shook his head, and eagerly waited for his uncle to return.
"When ya disappeared we all knew it was somethin' wrong. Goodness, I thought they killed ya, honestly wouldn't have been out of their toolbox but let's not dwell on that. Fedour just kept tellin' everyone ya were in the guard but he didn't believe a word of it. Don't know what he believed but you were his golden kit Archy, ya know it. He thought ya were certainly gonna make him proud his way and it didn't happen. Poor Ronda found this lynx, some clerk at the MinoWar buildin', and just kept askin' 'bout you, how ya were doin'. He didn't tell her the whole story thank him for it, just somethin' la'ke how ya didn't make it. She just wouldn't buy it though, she asked if you were part of some secret group or some such which is silly because a group ain't secret if Ronda knows about it, if Ronda knows a thin' the whole harbor will find out 'bout it."
Laskit refilled his glass and took another swig. Archibald was silent and listening intently.
"They just ain't the beasts ya remember Archy, Fedour was so disappointed with what happened with ya and Ronda was the same but she was also worried for ya. Not that it makes what they did any better, they just didn't give a damn 'bout Liera and Irene, not even a tenth 'z much 'z they gave 'bout you. None of this is yer fault mind ya, it's all for them..."
"What happened to Liera and Irene?", Archibald asked seeing that Laskit was struggling to find words.
"Oh, Liera ran out and didn't look back. She could've fallen ra'it through the ground la'ke ya did, but I see her 'round, tending bars and hopefully that's all. As for Irene, goodness, I still can't believe it happened, but Fedour chased her out. Somethin' silly 'bout a neighbor, she ran and now keeps getting herself in trouble with the fogeys. I want to get at her but I'm an old beast Archy, can't keep up."
Archibald was overwelmed with the news he got. He didn't even know what to say. He just shook his head and looked into blank space.
"I should've let ya rest Archy, that journey must've been tough. I'll go make sure your room is ready"
"Oh, you're wonderful, it's ten gilders, ra'it?"
"Who are you kiddin'? You're my nephew for Judge Ra'itsbeast's sake, I ain't gonna charge ya for stayin' over at muh place!"
-- -- -- --
A good night's sleep was what Archibald needed to clear his head. Next morning he rose with the sun, quickly got himself dressed and went into the kitchen where Laskit was getting breakfast ready.
"Yer petty dejuner, missyur",
Laskit said with a grin, seemingly unbothered by Archibald's discomfort.
"Look, A'm still from here, just cuz muh fur's straight don't mean A'm with them alkies"
"Yur tra'in' too hard dawgcat, ya've been pretending over there so long ya can't stop pretendin' here."
"Ok Laskit, give me some of yer advais, how should I act?"
"Just be yerself muh Archy! You ain't a stage beast to be actin'."
"Well, my uncle, that reminds me that I should tell ya, don't be spreadin' word about me, or be yellin' 'bout Archy in public"
"I would never yell, but is this 'bout yer security work?"
"Yeh, if we're out an' about and need to use muh name call me Anithias Reedom"
Laskit dropped the plates on the table in shock, looking up at his nephew clearly struggling to keep up with what he was saying.
"Yur kiddin', ra'it?"
"Na, safety reasons, security job, 'member?"
"Why not call yerself Jollie Swifttail and not Anithias [censored by niceties] Reedom?"
"Jollie Swifttail ain't ra'it, I need same initials 'z muh name"
"Oh dash initials straight to hellgates, now let's eat"
Their conversation picked up right after they had their fill and went into the living room.
"See Laskit, A'm here on an assignment, not for long"
"Archy, you should quit that security thin', take all the money ya have and settle here"
Archibald thought for a little while, before slowly saying.
"I do la'ke it, but no promises, need to see about my clients ya know"
"Oh screw yer cla'ents with a rusty razor, yur ste'in' here and makin' it ra'it, startin' with yerself"
"What wrong with me Laska? Must say A'm doin' much better than either ya or Fedour over there"
"Got nathin' to do with uz, we're dead beasts walkin' and talkin'. Our family has been all but extinguished, Irene and Liera want nathin' to do with it, Alison never thought it worthed a bit, the rest of her side dont even know they're Ra'itsbeasts. And now I need help mo' than ever"
Archibald wanted to speak up but laskit raised his paw and continued.
"There's this land near Zan's, almost outside Bully. I found documents in the la'brary, it was owned by Roughclaw Ra'itsbeast half a hundred years ago, and it was the residence of the Ra'itsbeasts for hundreds of years by then. A'm sure there's somethin' there, but I can't get muh paws on it, the dispute is tough and expensive and the other one, some ugly weasel ferret thing apparently can prove he's the son of the latest owner or somethin'. Archy, please, help me get this, A'm sure if we can fa'ind and get back to our roots it'll all be better."
Archibald's interest was peaked, but he only showed it by occasionally nodding and his ears perking up. Finally he stood up from the table and went towards the door.
"A'll see what I can do Laskit, A'm gonna do muh job then A'm sniffin' around."
He went to his room and did what little preparing he needed. He put on his belt, made sure all his weapons were there, then also pocketed some matches and a bottle of lamp oil in case he needed them. He looked at his notebook, where he wrote down everything he was told by the intelligence agents. He got all the information he needed like address, species, height, weight and training, and also meaningless information like name and pseudonym. He stepped outside and stopped at the door of the living room.
"DO you know where Irene is now?"
"Oh, haven't got a clue. She's at large I think, but know nathin' else"
Laskit was sitting facing away from the door, looking out the window onto the empty street in front of his house.
"I'll find her Laskit, I know how to do it. A'll keep her safe"
"Thank you, oh thank ya so much"
-- -- -- --
"I am safe, I am safe, I am safe"
Louis marquis had to repeat that to himself every day since he made his journey to Vulpinsula. He didn't know whether he was more afraid of the Alkamarian spies and intelligence agents who definitely wanted to kill him, or of the natives who have already tried beating him to death for various reasons, from being unable to speak Vulpinsulan, to carrying too much money, to being an Alkamarian. The vulpinists didn't seem to care that he was a traitor to his country and was more on their side, but maybe he shouldn't have slipped into Alkamarian every other word he said to them. The fact he was living in a very restless, smelly and rude neighborhood also didn't help, and he was starting to doubt the ministry of misanthropy cared about him since they suggested him to go by the name "Luis Marker". "Wouldn't that be too obvious?", he thought, but didn't dare object. It wasn't like he had any better ideas. He was just an office beast, selling chemical research on the side to earn just a little bit more money. He wanted to go on a cruise, or to have a very nice dinner, but the job just didn't pay enough for that alone. And now he lost what little he had before, which was worth much more than anything he wanted to get.
That morning he decided to stay at home and not risk his neck. He was still recovering from the week-old ruises he got from the vulpinists. "Hopefully this will finally be an uneventful day", he thought to himself, and then his rusty shack was shaken by 1, 2, 3 knocks at the door.
"Anithias Reedom, fogey police"
Louis did in fact file a police report with the weirdly named police agency and the ministry of misanthropy, it took them a while but they have finally caught up on the case it seems. The marten bounded over to the door, opened it a crack, and then slowed down. There was that paranoya again. How could he know the beast on the other side was truly Anithias Reedom from the fogey police, and not who knows who else?
The little crack was all that the beast on the other side of the door needed. He pushed the door the rest of the way, got inside, closed it quickly behind him and pulled out a dagger. Archibald spoke in fluent but badly accented Alkamarian.
"Where are the papers?"
"In a safe, I'll unlock it if you let me live, please"
"Unlock the safe and then we'll talk."
Louis was too scared to be glad that there were no mysteries about his visitor now. He felt like his answer didn't quite sound like he was accepting the agreement, and he wanted more assurence that he wasn't going to be killed right after he wasn't useful anymore.
"Put away the weapon and-"
Archibald put the tip of his dagger right against Louis's throat. This silenced Louis and made him more cooperative, leading the red-furred fox into his bedroom. The safe was on the desk in plain sight, with 4 wheels on the front which served as the locking mechanism. Louis tried to look at Archibald's face, to see if there was anything useful he could gage from it. The vulpine's eyes exclusively showed one emotion, boredom.
"Unlock it"
Louis did as he was told, it only took him a few spins of the wheels to make the box go "chuck" and opened to reveal various notebooks and other papers.
"Let's continue talking in your kitchen"
Archibald's words pleasantly surprised Louis, who had all but surrendered to the fact he was going to be killed the second that box opened. That was what he was after, right? Well, he was wrong, Archibald couldn't care less about the box and the Alkamarian government didn't want to retrieve it either. What was important got written down in many more places and what wasn't could be condemned to the flames. In the kitchen he was guided along by the fox, told to turn here, stand there, and then in the middle of yet another instruction the fox stabbed the marten in the throat. He once had a discusssion with a fellow contract killer about the best method to kill a beast, which proved to be very informative to both even though neither of their opinions budged much. Archibald preferred to get at the throat when he could get a sure hit, since it immediately stopped them from screaming, would kill them from something within a few minutes, and wasn't usually guarded by armor. His interlocutor instead preferred the heart, since it was less messy, was just as likely to kill, and his experience made the bodies much easier to transport. Their conversation then shifted to handling bodies, and a few topic shifts later they had to part ways, never to meet again.
Louis was dead, or at least was dead enough. He wasn't moving, he wasn't speaking, and he wasn't being a problem to anyone anymore. Archibald could do what he liked to call household chores. He could have gone the way of his friend, cleaned everything, taken the body somewhere else and made sure there was no scene of the crime at all. He liked more to ruin it completely to immediately give investigators a tough time, the more time they wasted in the ashes, dust and rubble, the more time they couldn't spend catching him. He decided to stage an early morning accident, taking a cough-ee kettle from the table and pouring water into it.
"How do ya like your cough-ee in the mornin'?", he asked the dead Marten on the floor, who gave no answer to the question. Maybe because he actually was more of a tea drinker, and he carried over a few bags of it over from his homeland. Tea could serve just as well. He put it on the stove and lit it. It wasn't a good one, it would probably take a while to boil. That was good for Archibald, he needed a few things to do first. He went to the safe and ripped apart the various papers inside as much as he could, throwing them around the kitchen, hallway and bedroom, before grabbing a lamp in the kitchen and spilling the oil starting from the base of the stove over the hallway, before chucking the rest of it into the bedroom. Judging by the noises coming from the kettle there was probably about 5 minutes until it got too hot, blew up, and the hot water ignited the oil and then set the whole house on fire. Not perhaps a very violent explosion, but it will have to do. He remembered to put his weapon back this time, stepped out, and then made his way away from the shack. He was drawn to the sounds of a bar winding down. This was certainly a strange time to be going for a drink, but he would rather be inside than outside when the shack exploded. He turned onto a street and gave a glance to the name above the door as he entered. "The lilting lily".
"Top of the mornin' to ya", he greeted one of a few beasts inside, giving a glance to the dice and card tables before sitting down.
((OOC: thank you for reading the Herman post to end all Herman posts. There are going to be two subplots to this thread: Archy and other early morning patrons talking at the Lilting Lily, and the investigation of the accident / arcen / murder, who knows what at the smoldering ruins of Louis Marquis's shack. These two subplots can mostly run independently, but maybe they join up together in an interesting way, who knows? I was thinking to have a round of people who want to be involved setting up their character's place, and once that's done I write my response and officially make the big boom happen. This is the first time I'm doing a thread like this so it might be rough around the edges. Needless to say, you can ask questions by sending a DM to the parent account @Herman Lasichin or preferably posting on the discord thread discussion.
Pinging people who will be likely interested: @Keinruf Zvirskyy @Falun Furotazzi @Samuel Grimes (not necessarily you but one of the fogeys for sure), of course MinoMis would want their paws involved in this as well, and anyone else is welcome to throw their character into the madness.))
