Fogeys Open The Market Completed The Golden Voyage

[Perila Z. Mogul]

@Marianna Furotazzi
"Miss?" The older wildcat scratched an ear quizzically as the large stoat staggered off with the postmaster, who was more dragged senseless than accompanied by.
The Thieves, many hollow-faced and emotionally exhausted from the proceedings, stood and sat about with much less bravado. Now, they appeared a lot more like the usual desperates who made up the Imperium's criminal undercurrent.
Satira nodded to the vixen, once she'd knelt to recollect her violin. The ferret looked over her prized instrument carefully, inspecting it for damage. She smirked slightly. "Sounds good, guv."
She flicked her eyes up to the vixen. "I'm glad we're doing business. I'm sure we all are." She ran her fingers across the instrument's body, and then placed the bow across it. A sharp, hopeful tune played across it, singing of golden dawns and new beginnings.
"The old Frockbottom Dresses Co. Warehouse, Northern Warehouses district."

 

[Perila Z. Mogul]

@Drummond "Crayfish" Grogg
Onstage, the play was reaching its end.
The brave Admiral Eldon and the few ragtag survivors that made up his entourage struggled back to the ship awaiting them.
Eldon, limping and using a spinal column for a cane, shook his head as he spared a glance back to the woodlands beyond.

Never again, aye, never again,
Shall I walk such rotten shores!
Humble explorers made so many corpses,
On this dreaded Cahntinent's woodland floor.
Forget this Hell, where the deathbell knells,
Aye, let's turn our cheek and be away.
Admiral Eldon of proud Imperial swell,
Shall not die this accursed day!
To the desk, aye, to the desk,
I shalt retire most glad and rich!
And perhaps you, faithful Cadet Tench,
Will join me in politics?

The fox turned to find the weasel cadet behind him sprawled from a slingstone and more woodlanders swarming on the other side of the stage, and dropped the makeshift cane.
"Perhaps not! Double time!"
As Eldon and his surviving followers, including Carbuncle and Fondulio, fled for the ship with mad woodlanders on their heels, the music from the pit reached its climax and the heavy and towering curtains drew to a close.
Applause thundered from the audience, including from amongst the Fogeys, who had long since shirked the case at paw to watch the show. One of their number, Bevy Saltlick, was missing- being smaller than the rest of them, she and their extra large peanutbox had been sent flying out the exit and into the darkness when the alto had screamed during the night attack by the dreaded "deaduns", the Chapel's bloodmad child soldiers. Several other officers had lost their hearing. So was the sacrifices that must be made for the arts.
Sergeant Shunkirst was on her third cigar when their new informant arrived with a battered, bloodied and barely-conscious rat in tow, wearing green rags.
"Now 'o in th' name o' Khan d' yis got 'ere, bub?" The wildcat drawled, sitting up in her Opera seat. "'Nuther one o' those drifters livin' in th' Operatic walls, stickin' their peepers through th' eyes in th' portraits, speakin' in riddles an' th' loike?"

 

[Marianna Furotazzi]

Marianna slowly exhaled, calming herself a bit, as Satira gave her a point of contact in return. In the underworld, such was as good a gesture of trust as any. "I will be in touch," she promised, "and I look forward to doing business with you." She glanced at the violin, relieved to see it hadn't seemed to suffer. "Perhaps we had best make a discreet exit," she suggested, "before any Fogeys come looking for this bomb. Somehow I doubt our informant friend will manage to keep his story strictly to what benefits himself."

 

[Drummond "Crayfish" Grogg]

Grogg was gasping and heaving by the time he had made it back to the Fogey officers, his beard moistened by the slobber, leaking from his lips from the effort of lugging the dead weight of the incapacitated rat. He dropped the bloodied beast to the ground with a solid thump, then hefted his drooping waistline back up his behemoth hips with a grunt as he towered over the opera seats, rudely blocking several beasts from seeing the bows from the performers on stage.

"Harken mateys, hughfff. D'iss wee beastie thought 'imself a martyr! herrrfff"

He let out a rasping cough, then spit phlegm onto the leg of an unsuspecting opera goer.

"'E came by a meetin' o performer beasts right as I be nippin' in. Aye, 'e t'ought 'e be a skulkin' tru t' the stage an' blastin a 'ole wit' a box o' live artillery an' some fancy fuse!"

He kicked the mostly still form of Arthur Griffon with a clogged hoof.

"An' worse o' all, 'e came o' flounderin' in afore I kin find a morsel o' vittles n' finery!"

He looked at the Wildcat fogey with what he thought was a face begging of sympathy, a quiver on his grubby lower lip...

 

[Perila Z. Mogul]

@Marianna Furotazzi
Satira made a small laugh. "You don't have to say that twice. Come along, friends, we've places to be."
The Cravat Thieves slowly filtered out, the very image of casualness as they straightened their various service uniforms, tucked away their ill-gotten cravats, and spread throughout the Opera House until they were as undistinguishable from their coworkers as cheap grog was from puked grog.
The ferret violinist walked briefly with Marianna, her violin nestled in her arm. "We're going to make a killing together, you 'n' I." she said with a small smile, her voice silken and just above a whisper to the fox, before more loudly, "Come along, milady, the Sortie de Upper Crust's this way. And may I express just what a privilege it is to have such a distinguished lady patronizing our humble establishment."

 

[Perila Z. Mogul]

@Drummond "Crayfish" Grogg
The postmaster's broken body issued a feeble gurgle from between his cracked and bloodied lips.
"Good gracious, man!" uttered Officer Slimp, peering through his monocle. "You've battered that poor devil harder than a Sean on Beat A Sean Day! Who is this rotter, some luckless vinegaroon between you and the backstage pastries?"
"Did you say something about artillery?" Sergeant Shunkirst scratched one of her scruffy ears and made a face. "No matter, I s'pose we'll just pin Gorris' murder on whoever this sap is. You've earned your Helpful Citizen voucher, I s'pose."
She tucked a scrap of paper into Grogg's palm that, if read, depicted a smiley face and "I Helpd a Fogey- Wun Free Drink Pleaz!" scrawled across it. She blew a puff of cigar smoke. "Alright, get on then. Off with ya! Official Fogey business."
Officers Flask and Slimp knelt and collected Griffon, who uttered a weak moan as he was hoisted up and clapped in irons.
Behind them, on the grand stage, the actors bowed gallantly before returning back behind the curtain. Someone threw a cup-full of peanuts at Grogg for being in the way, and with a sigh, the world-weary mole janitor moved his squeaky cart over and swept the peanuts up from the floor.
Beasts in fancy dresses, tall hats and dapper cravats made their way out toward the exits, the richest taking a gilded and velveted Sortie de Upper Crust door manned by a well-groomed rat valet while the Sortie de Commoners exit was just the open door Grogg used to get in, positioned right next to the ticket booth, where the ferret sat playing Solitaire inside and sipping from a bottle of unfinished champagne.
The Bouillaibaisse Opera House's festivities seemed over for another night.

 

[Drummond "Crayfish" Grogg]

Grogg took the scrap of paper in his grubby paw, and held it up to look at it.

"I 'elped a fogey n' git a free drink. Haa'harr'harr!" He gurgled in delight and shoved it under his shirt collar, stowing it in his filthy nest of belly fur. "T'ankee kindly."

He turned to exit when a pawful of peanuts exploded onto his belly and rained down around him. Catching a few, he shoved them unpeeled into his maw and monched down.

*monch* "Gerroffit, ye' villain!" *cronch*

Slobber dripping down his lip, he took a few lumbering steps toward the commoners exit, before swiveling on wooden sole to look back at the officers.

"Be wary, mates. A deep'r plot is abound. 'E carried on 'bout a sendin' de bombs all round de bay! De ministrees might'n be havin' a narsty supprise if'n dey open 'e packages afore bein' warned. Mark me word"

Turning to go, he found another peanut clinging to a particularly sticky patch and shoved it into his maw.

@Perila Z. Mogul