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Morgan Liu

Navy
Rating: Able Seabeast
Influence
6,969.00
(A cute little vignette for Morgan and Finn :3 Technically private just by virtue of I'm not sure how interesting any of this will be to anyone else, though if anybeast else wants to come sit for storytime, I don't see an issue.)

"C'mon," Morgan chided, trying to herd the kit who had become her shadow over the past few days in the direction of the bunks and hammocks that made up the sleeping quarters. The nice thing about a galleon was that, save for in the worst of weather, it was steady enough to largely minimize any roll, making for a mostly steady sleeping environment. The bad part was that made space on the bunks competitive, as opposed to the hammocks, which had surprisingly bad back support. Morgan had been lucky to snag a bunk, but as soon as Finn had come along, she had traded a few times to give him the bunk and her a nearby hammock from which she would always be available. "I know it's still early," she admitted (indeed, the sun had only just fallen), "but the Doc wants you in early for all his training, whatever it is he does in the wee hours. You'll be groggy if you don't sleep now."

Of course, Morgan probably be the one to hear about it if he didn't sleep well; she had made little secret of her care for Finn, and had become the voluntary custodian of his wellbeing. In so doing, she was determined not to repeat some of her mothers' mistakes. Eirene had been a bit too soft, trying to explain, then negotiate, and then finally guilt Morgan into following her direction to go to bed. By the time she reached this last step, Morgan always felt terrible for missing the hint and causing her Mum pain. As for Bezine, well, she was much more the one to take a strict tone, and then stomp angrily about the house to give shouted commands if Morgan disobeyed and was caught out of bed. At first this had scared Morgan, but as soon as she'd realized that Bezine would never raise a paw to her, she'd lost all fear of her Mother. So, over time, the pair had become caught in a good-guard-bad-guard scenario of Eirene trying to cajole Morgan into sleeping, and Bezine ineffectually threatening the wrath of Vulpuz himself if Morgan was caught out of bed again.

Mother's problem, Morgan decided on reflection, was that she never wanted to be a mother. It wasn't exactly a secret, though it had caused her a painful twinge of the heart when she'd realized it. It explained why Bezine always seemed so lost, so incapable of connecting to her daughter. That she'd never known a mother of her own probably hadn't helped either. Morgan, however, considered herself doubly blessed: she'd had two mothers, so she should be extra motherly, in a way. Not that she saw herself as mothering Finn per se; it was more that she was being a big sister to him. She liked that image a lot more. For one, it was more appropriate to the age difference, and two, she wanted to be seen as a cool mentor figure, not as an authority figure.

"Tell ya what," she suggested, "let's get settled in, and I can tell you a story or two. 'Bout what I've seen, where I've been, what I've done - or just something amusing I heard once, whatever strikes your fancy. How's that sound?"
 
Finn would have just been impossible to get to bed the first night. The singing on deck, all the new sights and sounds, all of it was so overwhelming that sleep was impossible.

The next day, however? The pendulum swung from one extreme to the other. Finn was falling asleep standing. Morgan'd almost have to carry him to bed. As Finn slowly started to adjust to life on the ship, he settled into more of a routine, but largely out of necessity.

Tonight, there was laughter and song coming from the upper decks, and Finn pined for the community. He actually could hold a tune fairly well, and surprisingly knew many of the shanties and folk songs popular with the crew. Worse yet, Silvie was entertaining tonight, and Finn had never seen anyone perform as he did. It was captivating, and Morgan would have to almost pry him away.

Finn grumbled as they came up on their corner of the lower decks. The foxkit kicked his boots off, and tucked them nearly under the bed, before flopping down on the mattress face up. Truth be told, the second he left the deck, he did start to get sleepy... but he'd never admit that to Morgan, and so a certain level of protest was required.

"Ughh. I'm not a kit, Morgan!" he grumped. And yet, the more he insisted on this fact, the less everyone believed him. It was highly infuriating. Finn had no idea how much retribution he was giving Morgan for the troubles she gave her parents growing up, but perhaps that's for the best. It might egg him on.

The prospect of a bedtime story was almost insulting... But then again, Finn did love stories. So long as they weren't called bedtime stories, he'd let it slide. His grumpy facade vanished in a telling way, and he scooted over in bed to make room for Morgan to sit. The terms of surrender were agreeable.

"You ever been in a fight before?” he asked bluntly. Clearly, as all boys his age were, Finn was interested in tales of adventure, conquest, and victory. But the story leading up to the final battle was like cake: it only served as structure for icing. And greedily, Finn wanted a story that was all icing.
 
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Morgan laughed at the question. "Have I been in a fight before? It's easier to ask when I haven't been in a fight." She grinned as they reached the bunk, and Morgan bent down to sit at the foot of it as she invited Finn in. "Well, let's narrow it down a bit," she suggested. "Do you want to hear about a really tough fight that I still one, or a fight I really shouldn't have picked that got me absolutely stomped?"
 
Finn could tell that Morgan fought. Even back in the hold, his first impression of her was that she'd thwomp him good if they ever scuffled. Which... now Finn had to try. Eventually.

A cheeky grin spread over his muzzle. "Oh, the time you got beat on deck for getting mouthy with the cap'n? Nawww I already heard that story!" he said, pushing her playfully with his foot.

And he might very well have been trying to start something with that push.
 
Morgan laughed at that. "Well, as much as you'd think I'd have learned my lesson, that wasn't my first time my big mouth got me in over my head." She grinned as she started to pull back and fold the sheets and covers to tuck Finn in. Even with the steam engine to provide heat, the Hide, old vessel that she was, tended to have cold drafts pass through at night, which made for restless sleep.

"My first time, I was a mouthy little fourteen-year-old brat," she recalled. "I was living in... Was that Felmar or Callispar? It was one of the two, I'm sure. Wait, no, it was definitely Felmar. Anyway, Felmarians have a faith called Aurorianism - I know, it's a mouthful. Their whole deal is that being a warrior is the best life you can lead, and those who die in glorious battle are honored in the afterlife. As such, their priests train as warriors in their monasteries. Now, you'd think that young Morgan would have been smart enough to steer clear, especially since both her mothers had warned her against going near the Aurorianists - to be fair, I think they were afraid I'd convert and become even more unmanageable - but no, she just had to walk right up to the temple, find the first priest she could, and declare, 'You aren't so tough. I bet I could take you. I'd even let you have the first punch.'" She shook her head ruefully as she considered her foolish younger self, pausing to climb in a bit more with Finn as one of the cold drafts passed through the sleeping quarters.
 
Finn looked slightly disappointed that Morgan didn't take the bait after he nudged her like that. It was the universal request for "fight me!" But it was probably a wise decision not to spin the kit up this late. Then he'd never get to bed.

Against all odds, Finn let Morgan tuck him in, and quickly burrowed up to his chin under the blankets. "A-roar-rorian?" he attempted, tongue getting tied in his muzzle. Too many syllables.

Finn had seen a few monastic types in his life, and so his mental image was a rather portly old fellow with graying fur and simple robes -- might as well have been fighting in bed sheets at that point. Completely impractical.

Finn scooted over a little to make room for Morgan, and propped his head up on one paw as he listened. And as far as literally asking for a fight, well. Here's the pot calling the kettle black for you: the kit gave a playful punch at Morgan's hip, messing up the tidily made sheets. "I mean... Was'e bigger'n you?"
 
Morgan chuckled, and this time she did lean in playfully bop his ear. "Taller, yeah. He was wearing a big robe, though, so I thought he was just fat. He blew me off at first, told me to go back home and come back when I was ready for a challenge. Well, I told him that I was ready now, and for him to take his best shot. You know what he did?" She rubbed her stomach ruefully as she recounted, "He hit me in the gut so hard I flew back several feet and tumbled head over tail. Took me a good few seconds before I could breath again. When I got up, he was still right there, sweeping the floor like I hadn't even bothered him.

"Well, I made a proper charge then at him, and this time he deflected my blow with the broom handle, then he kicked me in the shoulder - I know, I don't know how he had that flexibility, I was tall for fourteen back then. Well, I should've given up and walked away, but I just kept swinging at him and getting knocked down over and over again. I was too stubborn to quit and take the loss. He didn't attack me, though - he only hit me after I tried to hit him. I think I got one or two blows in there, but by the end of it, I was beaten half to a pulp, and he was just fine. It wasn't until I paused for a breather that he took off his robe, and I saw what I'd missed - he wasn't fat, he was ripped. I mean, you ever seen those bodybuilders at carnivals? We're talking that level. I'd picked a fight I'd had no chance of winning."
 
Finn ducked right under the covers with a squawk as Morgan bapped him in the ear. It wasn't a terribly hard hit, but Finn peeked out moments later with that grin on his face. Now she'd done it.

Meanwhile, the mental image of Morgan being beat up by old man strength sent him into fits of laughter. Not to mention the dramatic cloak reveal. Finn clamped a paw over his muzzle to mute his laughter, though scoffs and snickers spilled out the side. After all, it was sleeping quarters, and beasts on other shifts would be blessing the two of them for rousing them before the bell.

"Please tell me you stopped there!" he said, grabbing at Morgan's arm to try and vengefully wrestle it.
 
Morgan laughed at Finn's antics, letting him have the arm while she moved instead to tickle his sides. "Oh, I wish I was that smart," she commented, "but no. I kept going. This time he picked me up by the scruff, if you can believe the indignity. Held me up while I kicked and flailed at him. When I scratched his arm, he threw me clear across the courtyard into this big rainwater barrel they used for tending to their plants. I splashed in, and it took me a few seconds to right myself, come up sputtering. By that point, though, I was really feeling it, so I wound up just draped over the edge of the barrel, soaking wet.

"Well, the monk came over and told me that, if I wanted to learn properly how to fight, that I should come back the next day. I cursed him out, flipped him a rude gesture - no, I won't teach you it,"
she added, "-and I dragged myself out of the barrel and left. I got chewed out real hard when I got home; Mum was horrified by what I'd done, and the next morning, she made me walk back up to the monastery - not easy, since I was smarting real bad from getting my tail kicked the day before - and I had to say sorry to that monk." She sighed, looking a little wistful. "I wish I could say I humbled myself, became his student, learned how to become a proper warrior, but... well, I didn't. I never went back to learn. Instead I just kept figuring everything out myself, mostly with knocks to the head. One of my biggest regrets, really."
 
Finn wrestled her forearm in a very cat-like manner. He wrapped his arms around it and hugged it to his chest, and then lunged forward to nip at her wrist. But as she went for his side, Finn writhed defensively, and chomped down none too gently!

The foxkit held on tight to the ferret's forearm, and tried to maneuver himself out of range of her paws. "Mrrn-frrn-frrgh, muuuuu!" he hissed through clenched teeth. Goodness, he was missing the best part of the story!

The bed sheets were a complete mess now, and Finn was halfway up Morgan's shoulders when a boot came flying across the room, and bonked Finn right in the head.

"Oy! Morgan! Iff'n you wanna play kit sitter, go do it on another deck!" hissed an angry stoat. And with that, the kit was off like lightning under the covers, shaking with mirth. He didn't want to create trouble... And yet he had. The harder he tried to straighten his face out, the more impossible it became. "Sorry!" he blurted out between suppressed giggles.
 
"Shut yer yap, Bootnose," Morgan called back, tossing the boot back at its originator. "No one asked you fer your opinion." Morgan turned her attention to Finn, making sure he was alright. "You don't owe 'em an apology," she noted, flexing her wrist, "though be careful with those chompers of yours, alright? Don't wanna bite too hard and have to take me to the infirmary. Pretty sure the Doc would be none too impressed with you over that one."
 
"Bootnose", as it were, deflected the apparel as it was hurled back at him. Spite and wrath flashed in his eyes, but he knew better than to escalate with someone who would continue to their own ruin, just to not lose. That was the story she was telling, wasn't it?

Bootnose got up furiously, dressed himself, and stormed off in a huff. Several vicious things came to mind, but he wouldn't waste them on the ferret. The problem would eventually solve itself.

Finn wilted behind the covers as the stoat left. The funny situation had become rather unfunny. While Finn had been introduced to three of the kindest beasts on the ship, not everyone was so gentle. Looking rather dower, Finn hugged his knees to his chest, and nestled his chin down on them.

"'e was just try'na sleep, Morgan..." he mumbled glumly. "Did y'have to make an enemy with him?"
 
Morgan sighed, a little guilt entering her as she saw that she'd caused some real offense. "I'll apologize to him later," she allowed. She looked over to Finn, regret in her eyes. "Sorry Finnie. If he gives you any trouble over it, let me know and I'll knock some- I'll very nicely apologize and take responsibility for inconveniencing him. See? I can learn."
 
Finn was very much a peacemaker, if it wasn't already obvious. The foxkit let out a burst of easy laughter as Morgan struggled to show she was a changed beast. "Oh, you're a hard case Morgan!" he said, sounding somewhat older than he actually was. Perhaps that was an old phrase he stole from his own parents.

Finn sprung out of bed, and snatched the ferret's paw. "C'mon, c'mon! He's not too far away yet!" he said, tugging on Morgan's paw with all his might.
 
Morgan sighed, grumbling slightly as Finn dragged her after Bootnose. "I more meant 'apologize tomorrow'," she complained, "you know, when I can have the moral high ground for being the one who threw a boot at an adult and not at a kit, but okay, we're doing this."
 
Finn dragged Morgan along behind him enthusiastically. The kit desperately wanted to get along with everyone, as he was quickly starting to see the crew as one large family -- a family that put the "fun" in "dysfunctional". Not to mention, he was still... trying to smooth things over for bringing the... fleas... on board.

Finn finally caught up with the stoat, who looked none too pleased see them again, and folded his arms across his chest. "Uhhhmmm! Hey... Mmmoooorgan wanted to say something to you!" he said with a disarming grin, and shoved Morgan awkwardly in front of him.
 
Morgan winced, her tail curling around her leg as she stood before the stoat. She rubbed her arm awkwardly, looking away. "Look, I..." 'Gates, she felt just like she had as a kit, forced by her mother to walk up to the monastery to apologize. Had she really not changed at all? "I'm sorry for being loud," she stated, "and for telling you off, and throwing the boot back at you. I'm not naturally great with kits, and I'm still figuring out how to be there for Finn in the way he needs, and just like everything else, I'm doing it by stumbling around and making mistakes. I'm sorry that, in flailing about, I hurt you too."
 
The stoat stood with his jaw agape. Finn stood with his jaw agape. And though no one ever noticed it, the Vulpine Imperium's lone flying pig sailed silently by in the night.

The stoat's furious expression faltered for a moment. He wasn't expecting a genuine apology like that, and even he didn't have the heart to throw it back at the ferret like he had planned to.

"Wow, I... Huh. Well. I'm... sorry I threw my boot at you. I didn't sleep well last night, and I lost my temper."

"It's ok! Would it make it up to you if I gave you my grog ration? They won't let me drink it anyways..."

"That... Would be nice, actually. Thank you."

Finn beamed up at Morgan. "Ok, now you have to accept his apology and give him a hu--"

"That's, no... That's ok. Yyyooou can have it. I'm... Good with the grog. Thank you. ... ...Iiii'm gonna go now."
 
Morgan exhaled slowly, relief washing over her as Bootnose took the apology and walked away. "Well," she commented to Finn, "that felt weirdly uncomfortable. I've been stripped to my skivvies in front of the whole crew before, but I think that's the most naked I've felt on this boat."
 
Finn clambered up on Morgan's shoulders, and wrapped his arms around her neck. Little brothers were afforded certain liberties like piggy back rides, and Finn intended to avail himself of them. "Yeah, well... Get back to me when Silvie gives you a flea bath!"
 
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