Open Zann's Alley/Backyard The Scholarship

[Kaii Nashirou]

(OOC: A thread primarily focused on Kaii and Darragh exploring the local library as per Kaii's promise.)

Libraries and college buildings were places Kaii visited often in the past, despite lack of legal status do to so. It wasn't the forbidden knowledge that brought him here, he simply liked to learn and as a positivist, Kaii could not understand exactly why those places are closed to most of society, restricted only to those of class or rich. it was a shame really, he for instance would never learn his craft were it not for the fact he actually had a title of a Baron, even if only on paper. And with that? Now beasts like Morgan or Piper would not get to enjoy their days. Providing opportunity of education for the masses was in his mind a great thing to do. Not only morally lifting beasts from the dread of the unknown, also practically providing more inventions to the society, talented beasts to bloom and use their newfound skills in all aspects. In all ways it was beneficial.

And that was precisely why Kaii was now sitting at the bench near the largest library in Bully Harbour. He was awaiting Darragh here. The two had a close-knit friendship, but also both were scholars. The fox was seeking the answers through science, while the stoat was doing so with words and emotions behind them. As one well-read beast, Kaii understood well how poetry can shape the understanding to those not inclined scientifically. He saw many times how metaphors and hidden meanings make others see the world in a ways they couldn't before, the whole spiel was in ensuring that they know that, unlike science, there are a lot of ways to see the world through that perspective.

It was a sad thing that Darr, despite his honest will and efforts, never got to see the riches of any library. Kaii was right in promising him that time in the hold to get him into one, that was least he could do for his friend to sate their need for understanding. Expanding young poet's horizons and giving them a good insight into what was never seen by them was not just working well with Kaii's ideology and belief in organicism, it also was right.

Kaii after all promised that. His promises were always solid as steel. Even if he did not want to help the poet as genuinely as he did, he was obliged to.

And there was also a matter of the visions the poet had. A mystery that Kaii was adamant he could solve with the knowledge behind the walls he was now looking at.

There was just a need for the poet to come, as per Kaii request from the last time the saw one another, and meet with him here.

@Darragh Harper

 

[Darragh Harper]

Has the search for a book ever driven you a bit mad? You’ll be conversing with somebeast more educated than clever, and on their tongue they’ll offer a scandalously short snippet of one of the book’s more famous quotations. You’ll tell them, that’s far too inspired a line to come from a soggy-brained half-wit like yourself, who dropped out of Length so hard they call you Too Short. You’ll receive a shrug. Oh, they’ll say, it was in a book I had to read for Vulpine Literature class.

You knock out a few of the daft fox’s teeth (they’re half-rotted from all that nasty sugar stuff students put in their tea anyway), and storm off to find a bookshop. There are terribly few of those even in the nicer parts of the Trenches (and you’re not allowed to shop anywhere fancier). Books get banned, books can burn, books have a strange magic to them that make avid readers seem a bit peculiar by association. Political violence is on the rise in the Imperium (yes…again), and books that challenge narrow views are now being targeted by more than just the censors of the MinoNice. As a result, the bookshops that remain open are the ones that sell safe, pulpy pap. Cheap entertainment for the masses, or practical guides for housekeeping, or dull reference material on identifying rare bees. Nothing with artistic yearning.

Slouch into the ramshackle old bookshop. There are dangerously tall stacks of books making every aisle a squeeze. You’re slim and agile, but those aren’t universally applied traits to book-lovers, and getting to the shopkeeper’s little alcove involves getting hip-checked by a fox who must have attended the university at Width, instead. Tap your footpaw as you wait for a ragged she-weasel carrying all she owns in a sack to stop haggling over the price of a quarter-gilder romance novel. Her thumb’s over the title, but you can make out an illustration of a waspishly-proportioned stoat jill in a billowing dress running away from a castle on a hill.

The shopkeeper shrugs when you ask about poetry books. He’s having difficulty making eye contact with you, his gaze is wandering up and down like you’re a particularly tasty looking fishstick. He isn’t sure he keeps many of those, poetry isn’t as popular as distressed damsels (particularly if they’re being pursued by dangerous damsels that own castles), but he has catalogues of inventory you can look through. You suspect he wants to keep you here, within ogling range, for as long as possible. A fair tradeoff you suppose, and you can break jaws as well as turn the heads of jills and jacks alike while you do it.

None of these titles jumps out at you. In desperation, you repeat the quotation out loud,

“I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darklin’ in the eternal space…”

And the plump tod, arms quivering under the load of books on crypto-entomology, perks up his ears. Oh, I’ve heard that one, I think. He gives you a name that matches nothing in the catalogues.

The verses and their elusive author spin around in your head. The rest of the poem has to exist somewhere, not just in half-remembered snatches from inattentive university students. You wander the streets, thumbs in your pockets, dejected. You spend the coin you saved for the book on a meal and booze, and get into a brawl at the Bilge to take your mind off the whole thing. Morning comes, as do hunger and headaches, but the poem still sits there, like a splinter you cannot pluck from your mind.

At least up until today, this had been the typical experience for Darragh Harper. There was a whole world of written words, held just out of reach by tight security, or frustrating obscurity. It had taken a voyage to the far end of the world to bridge a gap the young stoat had experienced all his life between the mysterious, cloistered world of the gentry and his own humble circumstances. In the depths of the hold of the storied old warship Golden Hide, he had formed a bond with a fox both frighteningly brilliant, and unhesitatingly kind.

Kaii Nashirou was a gentletod with an unrivaled scientific curiosity. Darragh had mistaken his arcane-looking tools and mathematical scribblings for dark magic at first. In a sense, the poet had been correct. It was a kind of magic, not the inscrutable illusions of a fairground sideshow, but a magic that did for the head what the magic of poetry did for the heart. Having made a truly historic discovery in science together, Darragh and Kaii had also discovered in each other a mutual love of finding things out, and the tod had promised to use his noble credentials to grant Darragh access to a treasure trove that all the gold in the MinoCom’s vaults couldn’t match for value. The Library.

One part of their mission at the Library today was to find out whether the Wolf Idol the crew of the Hide had retrieved from their recent expedition to Urk had been written about before. It was composed of the newly-discovered metal (tentatively named Urkanium…) but what cultural or historical importance it had to the cannibal shrews of that island was unknown to them. The voyage had been commanded by Talinn Ryalor, the Minister of Innovation, but what sources the old fox had about the Idol were most likely secret, and now that he was no longer captain of the Hide, what little access they had had to him before had dwindled even further.

Darragh knew also that Kaii was curious about his visions, for lack of a better word for them. The world sometimes seemed to reveal itself to the poet, as though strong emotions or powerful forces from the past still echoed in the places where great tragedies or momentous events had once occurred. Yet Darragh’s historical education was virtually nil, only existing in legends and vague generalisations. He had no idea if he ever actually saw the past as it was, or if it was all the product of an over-active imagination. Darragh’s worst fear about his visions was that he would be condemned as mentally ill, and thrown into some kind of madhouse to rot. He trusted Kaii wouldn’t let that happen to him, though. It would be just between them.

The section Darragh most looked forward to exploring though was poetry. He imagined the aisle must stretch on forever, all the way back in time to when the first humble reed-pen touched… well, whatever they used for paper back in Ancient Times. Darragh near enough was skipping as he made his way to where he had agreed to meet Kaii. He was wearing his nice (if admittedly a bit over-the-top) clothes that he’d washed since the disaster at the Opera Theatre. He had foregone the perfume though - the bottle had been expensive, but it was tiny, and the stoat had really only wanted it to entice jills anyway.

Darragh cleared his throat as he approached Kaii, and doffed his blue crushed-velvet cap with exaggerated grace.

“Good day, my fine gentletod! I couldn’t help but notice you seem to be waitin' for the company of a first-rate erudite scholar,” Darragh said with a cheeky grin on his face. “Unfortunately, you’ll have to make do with a second-rate rhyme-scribbler like me.”

Darragh chuckled, and replaced his cap. He regarded the fox, thinking back to when he’d recently seen Kaii in the midst of a quite unexpected battle, his expression becoming more serious.

“Are you doin’ alright? There’s been a lot more adventure back on shore than I was expectin’, m’self.”

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

Kaii shook his head with a modest smile at the introduction Darragh gave to him. "Humility proofs you are nothing but top-grade though. Only a fool thinks of themselves as a master." He stood up and moved to shake paws only to be stopped by the sudden seriousness that was bestowed upon his friend. The question loaded, but honest.

Kaii too became solemn. There were a lot of things to be said about Opera Fiasco as some newspapers called it. But aside from it, there was also a matter Kaii was not allowed to share even with his closest friends. One that was between him and the beasts far more powerful. He wasn't a pawn in their game, but still it weighted on him heavily.

Dispelling that notion, Kaii struggled. He was not a beast to lie. Especially not to his friends. He could say half-truths to those he didn't hold in such high regard or jest when the situation called for it. He would however not lie to a beast that he had forged a bond with over not just their shared passion nor struggles, but also over the common understanding. Even if they had differed in some regards, there was respect for it.

As such, Kaii choose the best option here. Silence all that could break the other promise he had made. "I did recover physically and mentally it was tiresome, but in no way something that would break me. I've been through much worse and well... back when I could still call myself a Baron with no shame, I was taught to expect such entertainment at the parties made for nobility."

That was as good of a truth as Kaii could say. Fortunately it was impossible to say through his flat baritone that he was hiding something. With that Kaii could now allow himself to smile again knowing that the upcoming visit to the library would be a blast for both beasts. Finally he gave that pawshake to Darr and led him towards the main entrance. Walking with confidence of a noble, of someone who knew they deserved to be there, the fox leisurely continued speaking, this time with more exquisite gesticulation and putting on the accent his family cultivated ever since they came from Fyador.

"Mr. Harper, I would like to know your personal experience with the events at the opera. I believe thyself are not being on velvet with the events that occurred here." He spoke in a way that someone on the position of a baron would. Not exaggerated, but one that spoke definitely of growing up among the upper echelons of society that had time and care to spare for such frivolities like using idioms and full formal words that normally would be only written.

This was however necessary, because just after walking through the main entrance, Kaii and Darragh were stopped by one fox. Wearing formal clothes but also visibly armed, they were the first line of defence, ensuring that common beasts would not get too smart. However, he did bow to the two coming bachelors before asking with adequate reverence. "Pardon me gentlebeasts. I am simply obliged to ask who is coming to visit and check for your credentials."

Kaii reacted with almost disinterest, showing the ring he wore with his family coat of arms etched onto it. "We are here for private reasons that call for sufficient secrecy. Should you insist on validating my claim, go inside and seek for my family's genealogical tree." Kaii said and simply walked around the guard with Darragh. He didn't exactly like this spiel, behaving as if you've owned the place. But while he could legitimise himself, getting the stoat in would be cumbersome to say the least should any actual process of checking who they were started.

They were not followed, Kaii leisurely continued talking to Darr, as if nothing had happened. "Albeit, I am also curious about how did you get into this scenario yourself. I was assured you were not coming to the Opera that night." With that said they finally emerged from the corridor and into the main hall of the library. Each wall was covered in books or rolled papers. The space between had three floors of bookshelves and separated areas for reading, ones with plush sofas and armchairs. It was a paradise for a beast interested in all literary matters or written words.

And Kaii gave a small grin to Darragh, followed with a wink. He completed his promise.