Jeshal the Ironclaw
Captain of the Black Ship
Staff member
Officer: Captain (Commander)
Fortuna Survivor
- Character Biography
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(April Fools aboard the Golden Hide. Much serious thread. Starring: Rijard M Chaos, Macavity Ashpaw, Anithias Freedom, Armina Rogue/Narima Rouge, Jeshal the Ironclaw, Sorrona Ashpaw, Jeb, and Julia Freedom)
THE SOGGUS FOOLS
First post Soggus 1, Yr. 1729
Rijard M. Chaos
It was almost midnight. Rijard stood leaning on the railing on the deck of the Hide. He was watching the waves go up and down. With nothing to do, he watched the waves to stay out of trouble.
Then, almost out of habit, the rain started pouring as they entered midnight. A new day had arrived again. But even though it escaped Rijard, it was also a new month. As the rain poured he finally remembered that is was Soggus, the wet and muddy month. That meant today was the first of Soggus, that meant today was Soggus Fool's Day. Rijard's favorite day. The day you could make as much trouble you wanted and could get away with it.
He started to think what, or rather who, would be his first Soggus Fool. He remembered Brek, He was his first target. Then he remembered the hideous sound, from his opinion, that came from something Tomias was fooling with. He hated that fox, in fact all the foxes on board, even the little ones.
He had his plan, so he went below deck to make it look like he was getting out of the rain. He walked through the hallway. Finally he made it to Redford's bunk. He snuck inside. The room was dark, but not dark enough; he couldn't tell if the fox was in bed or not. Quietly stepping, Rijard found the fiddle. When he grabbed it on the neck sounds from the strings came from it. He quickly turned to see if anything in the bed moved. Nothing, he continued to pick it up. Finally, Rijard had it under his arms. He got up and walked outside the bunk quietly.
The next part, well that was for Brek. Brek's bunk was next to Rijard's. So the plan was to lay in his bunk until he heard, and possibly saw, the results. Rijard walked up to Brek's bunk with equal silence. He ducked under the screen, Brek was on his bed, his brown fur sticking over the fabric that served as a cot. Rijard stood up inside the screen and placed the fiddle on the top cot. Crawling back under, Rijard smiled at his deed.
When he was out and up he thought he heard somebeast coming down the stairs. So Rijard ran to his bunk. Quickly diving onto the fabric and pulling his small blanket over his furry body. Then he waited for the results.
Macavity Ashpaw
At last... Soggus the first! One little wildcat had awaited this particular day with relish, and he had big plans. He had stayed awake all night to set it up. Life-sized, mouse-shaped dummies had been placed in various rooms aboard, positioned in such a way that their shadows would cast upon the walls, armed with cooking utensils and the odd weapon he had managed to snaffle from a few beasts' packs.
Mostly harmless snare traps and pieces of slippery soap were placed near a few bunks and cabin doors. He crouched, ready to sprint the length of the ship and many more times over.
Then came the best part. Macavity raced the length of the Golden Hide bellowing at the top of his voice in as many different woodlander voices as he could manage until a bloodthirsty cacophony echoed through the night.
"Eulaaaaaaliaaaaa!"
"Blood'n'vinegaaaaar!"
"Redwaaaaaaaaall!"
"Logalogalogaloooooog!"
"Burr aye, give oum 'okey!"
"DIE VERMIN!"
With a joyous grin, Ashpaw made the din of a terrible invasion resound about the ship, adding in his own voice to the chaos. If all went according to plan, there would be enough forced slapstick to entertain a king.
"Help! Help! We're being attacked! Murder! Murder! All beasts to their stations!"
Anithias Freedom/Armina Rogue/Narima Rouge
Anithias had not even begun to consider Soggus Fool's when he went to bed on the last day of Smarch. He had more important things to worry about, such as how many days the water supply could keep them, what precautions to take in the event of a deadly virus breaking out on ship, and what he could hide behind if Julia hit a mood swing. As sweet and dear as she was, hormones hit her like a sledgehammer.
So, of course, with all this on his mind the last thing Anithias expected to hear was the sound of a full-scale goodbeast assault on the ship.
Immediately he leaped from his bed, his mind in a whirl. Attack! Where was it? By the sounds coming from above, they were already on ship! Anithias dashed for the door, seizing his cutlass and officer's jacket from their hooks before running off down the hall.
He didn't notice his trousers, sitting forlornly on a chair back.
As soon as he got on deck Anithias knew something was wrong. The sounds of war continued, but as he looked around, Anithias couldn't find their sources. The deck was completely vacated, free of bloodthirsty war parties and good'un attack forces. The only beast on deck was Macavity, who was wearing a grin that seemed to split his face.
Then Anithias noticed what he wasn't wearing. The first mate's face flushed crimson; whether from anger or embarrassment, no one could have told. Anithias sheathed his cutlass before shamefully wrapping his officer's jacket around his waist. He could think of at least twenty ordinances he had just infracted upon, the most prominent being Indeesant Expossure, Faelore to Complae Wit Dress Coed, and Misyoose of Navael Yooniform.
"Mr. Ashpaw," he said, anger simmering on his face, "I hope you can explain yourself." Several crewbeasts had already come up and started snickering at the First Mate's lack of dress, Jeb actually balled over with laughter. It was apparent to anyone watching that no amount of explaining could get the cheeky Macavity off the hook.
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Narima had awaited the arrival of Soggus Fool's Day since she (or more specifically Armina, from whom she had stolen the knowledge) learned of it. Instantly she began to wrap herself in plots and schemes, gleefully planning her attack. It had been the events of her emergence, especially the "interaction" between her and Tomias, that gave her the idea for her master scheme.
Armina had spent the days following the incident anxiously watching for any signs of nausea, irritability, absence of certain monthly events, or other symptoms that might indicate Narima's actions had cost her dearly. To her relief, none appeared. She'd checked in with Julia, and the nurse had given her, from her limited pool of knowledge, a tentative clean bill of health. Armina was safe.
But Tomias didn't know that yet.
As Armina went to sleep, Narima comfortingly helped the tired soul by subtly injecting images of soft, warm pillows, chai tea (Armina's choice drink as of late), and gently directing her thoughts to the soft lull of the waves. Armina was asleep within a minute.
Narima allowed a smirk to cross her face, or more specifically Armina's face. She was back in control again. Making sure that Armina was still safely asleep in a cubbyhole of her mind, Narima got to her footpaws, crossing to the mirror. She slowed down her walk as she did, examining the way her hips swayed. No, no, far too suggestive. Armina had that boring straightforward walk that barely gave any hip movement. Why Tomias had ever gone for Armina was beyond her. Narima practiced a little more, finally getting down Armina's walk. Now, the face.
That was perhaps the hardest part. Narima kept trying to put on Armina's nervous expression, but she always wound up laughing. It was just too funny! Narima found amusement in her counterpart's naivety and weakness. To Narima, Armina was the equivalent of an embarrassing memory; a mistake, one she knew better than to repeat and which she was now above.
At last she mastered the nervous expression. She practiced several times, at last mastering the art of being Armina. Narima smiled at her reflection before turning, walking out of the room.
The ship was in disarray when she went outside. Narima ignored the chaos, deciding it was nothing to be concerned about. Quietly she made her way to Tomias' bunk. "Tomias?" she called nervously, hoping the todd was in.
Tomias Redford
Tomias awoke to the sounds of battle, he was about to grab his blades and rush up onto the deck when he remembered what day it was, Soggus Fools day. So knowing that fact, the battle was probably just somebeast messing with everyone. He was about to head up on deck anyway when there came a call from the door of his bunk, he pulled on his shirt and walked over to the door, which he subsequently opened to see Armina standing there.
"Oh hi there Armina... or is it Narima, I can't really tell anymore," he grinned at her, "well come on in, make yourself comfortable."
Jeshal the Ironclaw/Sorrona Ashpaw/Macavity Ashpaw
The hollering of woodlanders jolted Jeshal from the first night of sleep he'd managed to attain for at least a week. With a snarl he leapt from his bunk, mostly dressed as was usual for his resting habits, and snatched up his cutlass. He did not bother with his frockcoat but quickly adorned his hat before stepping out to seek out the commotion.
The Ironclaw caught sight of a shadow as he passed the galley. He drew a quiet breath and then launched himself into the room. The silhouette of a mouse flickered upon the wall. He rounded the door and plunged his sword point into -
- a sack of flour with kitchen pots balanced upon its top.
The monstrosity had clearly been constructed to create the illusion. Jeshal's blood boiled. If there was something he hated, it was admitting he had been outwitted. Thoroughly enraged, the bosun stalked out of the galley in search of the culprit.
Unfortunately one of his bare footpaws located a sudsy bar of soap in the gangway. Tail flying in the air, Jeshal landed smack on his back.
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Dark. Why was it so dark? Sorrona tried to open her eyes again, in case they had not listened to her the first time. Still pitch black. Her legs cramped suddenly and she noted that she was bunched up in a confined space. Something was tied about her mouth. Her head ached and her tongue tasted... bitter...
Drugged!
At first she was gripped by fear, but slowly her memory informed her in a less than joyous tone that she had been dreading this particular day and had been hoping to avoid her terror of a cousin for the duration.
The locked chest in somebeast's cabin rattled and banged, and from inside came the strangest sound.
"Mmmcvviteeeeeeeeeeee!"
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Macavity, the Catanova of the Golden Hide used all of his emotional strength to keep from laughing as Anithias - the first mate, of all beasts! - burst out on deck in all the glory of his underwear. Had it not been for the fact that there was already a fair amount of beasts bearing witness, his marvellous audience, the little wildcat would surely have bolted already.
Slowly backing off across the deck, Macavity tipped his boater respectfully to the embarrassed Master Freedom. The longer he spoke, the more his laughter threatened to spill out.
"Well, sir..." He stifled a snort. "You see..." He creased; regained his composure. "You should be proud to be a part of such a wonderful aspect of our Imperium culture." He bit his lip, showing off his fangs, one of which was the silver replacement from a fight he had undoubtedly caused. "Eh? Wot, wot?" He swallowed, still moving backwards. "The thing is...er..."
Macavity's paw felt the comforting cords of the rigging as he backed into them.
"Soggus Fool!"
His huge mischievous grin flickered for an instant before he turned and started scampering up the ratlines.
Anithias Freedom/Narima Rouge
Macavity should have considered himself extremely lucky that Anithias was an extreme acrophobic. The first mate rushed to a spot underneath the rigging, his gaze burning a hole in the lines as he watched the prankster.
"MR. ASHPAW!" he bellowed, shaking the fist that wasn't keeping his jacket secure around his midsection. "I AM ORDERING YOU TO COME DOWN HERE!" The crowd just snickered louder at the first mate's ridiculous and obvious lack of control. For the first time he looked like the silly, powerless fox that he was, jumping and shouting at an antagonist with no ability to strike back.
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Narima almost smiled as Tomias opened the door. Instantly she caught herself, returning herself to the nervous expression.
Tomias grinned at her. "Oh hi there Armina... or is it Narima, I can't really tell anymore. Well come on in, make yourself comfortable." Narima resisted the urge to reply with something seductive, instead nervously brushing past him into the room.
"Tomias, I need to tell you something," she said nervously, pausing to gasp for breath. It was more difficult to play Armina than she thought. She looked flustered for a moment, as if still recovering from an embarrassing shock and trying to find the courage to explain it. "Tomias..." She looked at the todd, her heart in her throat. She poured as much combined love and fear as she could into her gaze.
"Tomias," she continued, "I'm pregnant."
Jeb
Jeb was in a good mood. So far he'd set up some of the best Soggus Fools' pranks he could remember in a long time. He'd put crab flavouring in the water supply (ever drink crab? Not good), stolen the firing mechanisms for the ballistae, and poured itching powder into the water used to wash the officers' clothes. All the officers would wake up tomorrow to find themselves itching like crazy. To make matters even better, he'd just witnessed the exposure of the first mate. The realm of insolent Freedom impressions had just been blown wide open.
Content with a hard night's work, he was headed back to his cabin for a good day's sleep when he heard a strange sound. It sounded like a gagged female stuck inside a trunk trying to get out. Peering inside the nearest cabin, Jeb was surprised to see a trunk that appeared to be bouncing on its corners. Instantly a long-dead part of Jeb's brain commonly called 'gallantry' kicked in.
"Nuh t' wurreh, swehhart!" Jeb called to the locked beast. "Uh'll save ye!" Running down the hallway, he glanced about frantically. What could he use to open a locked trunk? And then he saw it. A beautiful ax with a solid-oak handle, fire-hardened steel head, and a glistening curved edge. It was perfect.
Seizing it, Jeb returned to the cabin. He eyed the lock critically, like a tinkyball player lining up for a shot. Instantly he was Leopard Oak, the Imperium-famous tinkyball champion, lining up for a shot. It was the 19th hole, par 11, and he had to make this one shot to win the cup. Jeb swung –
—and into the rough.
Jeb winced as the axehead lodged itself in the wood, the blade poking through on the other side. He could only imagine the terror he'd inflicted on the hapless female. "Surreh!" he apologized, pulling it out and trying again.
It took 18 shots, all of which landed in the rough, before Jeb was even close to the putting green. By then he'd given up and simply went with a different tactic; attack the rough. Perhaps he could cut a hole wide enough to allow the female through! Jeb lined up for the shot—
It landed straight in the hole. The lock clanked in protest before splitting in half, falling to the floor. Jeb stared in shock at his iron for a moment before holding it aloft, a look of glory on his face. The crowd was going wild! Never had they seen such mastery, such skill, such handsomeness demonstrated on the tinkyball course! Jeb pumped his arms in victory-
And he remembered the trapped femme. Instantly the image of being swarmed by a scantily-clad female fan club disappeared, and Jeb was left with an unopened trunk.
Cautiously Jeb lifted the lid, peering in. A dust-and-splinter coated Sorrona looked back at him. Instantly Jeb's heart lodged itself in his throat, competing with his Adam's apple for "Most Breath-Constricting Organ". It was love at first sight. Then again, it was love at first sight every time Jeb laid eyes on a female, but he didn't think about that. All he knew was that he was in love with a female whom he'd saved.
Jeb removed the gag from her mouth before bowing low to her. "Seir Jeb, a' yer seirvace," he purred, sneaking a glance at the top half of her torso.
Sorrona Ashpaw/Jeshal the Ironclaw/Macavity Ashpaw
The imprisoned wildcat's breath had caught in her chest as a voice, muffled by the wood, bellowed in an unflattering accent, "Nuh t' wurreh, swehhart! Uh'll save ye!"
Now that she was not alone, Sorrona regained her composure and settled quietly in the trunk. That is, until the pattering of her intended rescuer's feet re-entered the room and shortly thereafter an axe edge exploded into view from her side of the chest. The female's golden eyes boggled at the gleaming spike that had nearly trimmed off her whiskers.
She listened with a faint terror to Jeb's repeat performances and at last, when she thought it would never end, there was the sound of the lock dropping to the floor. Trembling, she opened her eyes from where she had been cowering. Her hood fell back from her head as the lid was opened, revealing her silvery fur to be covered in sawdust that trickled off like sand.
Sorrona looked up into the face of the most unclean pulp of a wildcat she had ever perceived. He was so motheaten in his appearance that he could only loosely be referred to as one of her own species, but he was nonetheless. Carefully, she picked herself up to her feet, somewhat unsteadily. Her eyes dipped low, not because she could not bear to look at him, but merely out of her 'submissive' habit. Still, the incident had caused her to be on edge. Her chest rose and fell quickly with the remnants of panic. She lifted her hood and adjusted it back onto its rightful place, letting her ears slip through the slits.
"I thank you, sirre...Jeb," she answered, taking a tentative step out of the chest. The look in his eyes, so similar to the looks her cousin gave so many females aboard, unnerved her. "You arre a kind beast. Perrhaps a leetle overr-forrceful, but the gesturre and rresult are most apprreciated."
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Groaning and grumbling to himself, Jeshal traipsed back in search of his cabin, a paw at his aching back since the incident with the soap. All around the ship he could hear the shouts and wails of others' misfortunes. Normally it would have been music to his ears. Allowing his curiosity to creep in, he resolved to retrieve his coat from his quarters before heading topside to see what all the fuss was about.
The Ironclaw entered his room, snatched up and donned his frockcoat, and ventured down the hallway. It was but a few moments before his anguished yelps could be heard. Snarling, kicking and biting at invisible foes, the bosun rolled about at the foot of the stairs to the maindeck. Jeb's itching powder had claimed another victim.
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The prankster, Macavity, scrambled up into the crow's nest. He was exhilarated and just a little afraid of being hanged by the yardarm. The cheeky, handsome wildcat gathered his breath and his infectious grin, and then peered down at the screaming figure of Anithias Freedom. Spurred on by his adrenaline, he could not stop the insolence from bursting out of his mouth in harespeak.
"What ho there, sir? I can't bally well hear you! Bordering me to slum down beer? You look like you've had enough as it is! Do we actually keep such beverages up here? Whatever would the Captain say? Look, I daresay if you just pop back and change out of your furry long-johns you'll make a sight more sense to me. Eh, wot?"
Tomias Redford
Tomias stared at Armina for a moment, his mind racing. What would Anithias do to him, could he be a good father, and was he really ready for this sorta relationship. Luckily for him, the answer to those questions were, don't care, yes and yes. He grinned at Armina.
"Th... that is great news, congratulations, well congratulations to us both I guess," he stammered, "we are going to be parents, this is wonderful news."
He walked over and hugged her, pouring all his love, and supporting feelings into that hug.
"Don't worry, we can do this, we can make it work."
Armina Rogue/Narima Rouge/Anithias Freedom/Julia Freedom/Jeb
Armina was surprised when Tomias reacted not with shock, as Narima had expected (well, some shock perhaps, but not nearly as much as Armina would have thought), or with anger, or defiance (Narima would have loved the traditional "How do I know it's mine anyway?"), but with love and tentative happiness.
The look of surprise remained glued on Armina's face as Tomias embraced her, love and support surrounding her. For a brief moment Narima's shell of immaturity and selfishness was cracked open, and some of the positive feeling swept into her. She blinked as the love, the true, actual love, entered her, mingling with her spirit. It felt... nice. It felt nice. That was the best way Narima could describe it. It was something pure, and selfless, and something that she wanted to keep.
But she couldn't. They wouldn't let her keep it. None of them would ever show her this kind of emotion, ever care about her for being Narima, if they knew it was her. And it hurt. It hurt her deep inside, to know that she wasn't allowed to be loved, that no one would ever care for her. She was Armina too! She was just as much a part of that being as her other half was. And yet they treated her like an invader, as if she wasn't supposed to exist. It was for this reason that the tears ran down her face as Tomias embraced her.
"I'm sorry," she choked out, meaning that she was sorry he had to hate her, and that she had to pretend for him to like her at all. To Tomias, however, it would likely have come across as sorry for the pregnancy, fake as it was. Which was fine with Narima.
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Anithias fumed as the Catanova mockingly "misheard" his words. The little audience seemed to find it uproariously funny, however, laughing at the first mate's loss of dignity. Even Urel, who didn't like to think badly of anybeast, was smiling in gentle amusement. It was more insolence than Anithias could take. He would not be disrespected!
"ALL OF YOU, BACK TO YOUR DUTIES!" Anithias shouted angrily, storming through the crowd. The waning moonlight glimmered off his bare torso, making the golden fur seem silver. He could still hear their laughter as he marched toward his bunk, though the laughter had long-ago died. It rankled him, bringing back memories of taunting and provoking in his youth. No one knew better how to inflict cruelty than siblings, and Anithias had six. The mocking laughter of the crewbeasts stung at him, opening old wounds once more.
Anithias pushed open the door to his cabin, revealing a much-awakened Julia. "What-" Her jaw dropped open as she saw Anithias' poor state of dress. "'Nithy! Where are your clothes?!"
Anithias grabbed the trousers from their place over the chair back. "I'm afraid Mr. Ashpaw had a joke at my expense," he explained grumpily, forcing a leg into his trousers.
"Yes, but how on earth could you forget your- 'NITHY!" Anithias was rolling around the floor in agony. Jeb had rather overdosed on the itching powder, mainly because he'd waited until afterward to ask Urel about the difference between a cup and a teaspoon. Once he'd learned the difference, he'd figured there really wasn't anything to be done, so he just left things the way they were. Much to the misfortune of the officers.
Julia scrambled from the bed, rushing to her husband's side. It didn't take her much to figure out what was causing the pain; obviously some prankster crewbeast had put itching powder in Anithias' trousers. Anithias was struggling with the clothing, trying to remove it through the pain. Julia acted instantly- seizing Anithias' pocketknife from his desk, she cut the pants down the seam, being very careful as she did so; there were certain areas that one didn't want to damage. It was difficult work, especially as Anithias was still growling and twitching with the pain.
Finally the knife burst through the last strand of fabric, and the itching pants fell away. Anithias looked up at his wife gratefully, still panting from the pain. "You..." he wheezed, grinning, "never miss a chance to get rid of my trousers, do you?" Shocked, Julia sent a punch to his shoulder before getting up, allowing the smile to creep over her when Anithias wasn't looking. Males.
Anithias got to his footpaws before moving to join Julia, putting an arm around her shoulders. He sighed, looking at their cabin. "You know," he spoke, "maybe we should just spend the day in bed. Just ignore Soggus Fool's Day 1729 altogether."
Julia looked up at him in mock surprise and shock. "But what would the officers think?" she asked teasingly.
Anithias smiled as he looked back at his wife. His wife. He could never get over the joy of that fact through all the months. "Hang the officers," he whispered, leading her back to bed.
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The beautiful wildcattess moved like royalty, a submissive grace demonstrated in her every move. As she stood, Jeb felt his heart leap past his throat and lodge itself in his skull. She was amazing, everything Jeb could have wanted in a femme: charm, poise, humility, calmness, submissiveness. Now, if there were only five more of her.
"I thank you, sirre...Jeb," she said, somewhat nervously. Jeb didn't think it was him; she was probably still very scared from having been locked in a dark, scary trunk. Blass 'er purr f'mele 'art, Jeb thought sympathetically.
"You arre a kind beast. Perrhaps a leetle overr-forrceful, but the gesturre and rresult are most apprreciated."
Jeb did not pick up on the slight admonishment. "Ennehteng fer ye, derlin'," Jeb purred, taking her paw in his. Suddenly he realized his poor choice of adjective. "Er. Mah quean." He quickly kissed her paw to make up for it.
Sorrona Ashpaw
The word took the silver tabby by surprise, although she was not certain why. Despite her bloodline she had not cared for power. She was insignificant. There was too much danger and too many other rumps preened for the hard seat of a throne.
Quean.
But Jeb had only meant it as a term of endearment. For a moment, Sorrona's mouth was parted, stunned. She forgot herself and looked up at him, her golden eyes performing a rarity of meeting another's gaze. It was certain that most other females would have snatched away their paw and rubbed it vigorously, wishing for soap, but her confusion and partial gratitude was enough to make her withdrawal very slow.
At last she shook it off, dropped her eyeline and gave a polite cough. "Yes, well, I cannot thank you enough, sirre. I hope that you have not been subject to any of these prranks that arre want to happen on such a day as thees?"
Jeb
The wildcattess seemed shocked by Jeb's chivalry, standing with her mouth slightly parted. For a moment Jeb panicked, believing that it was kissing her paw that had induced this state. Still, she hadn't slapped him yet, which was a good sign.
At last the femme slowly withdrew her paw, seeming to recover from her daze. She coughed politely, drawing her golden eyes away from Jeb's murky ones. "Yes, well, I cannot thank you enough, sirre," she purred humbly. That purr almost send Jeb straight through the ceiling into heaven- it was such a very fine purr. "I hope that you have not been subject to any of these prranks that arre want to happen on such a day as thees?"
It took a moment for Jeb to stop floating in the clouds and return to the ground. "Wheh nuh, Ah've nuh 'ad tha' unfurt'nism, ma'am," he said smoothly, unconsciously removing his perfume bottle from his pocket and applying it under his arms. Instantly odeur des egouts flooded the cabin, mingling with the already-present odeur d'aisselles. It was enough stench to drive away a badger.
Sorrona Ashpaw
The shy wildcattess had been trying her best not to wrinkle her nose at the distinctive odour that continuously escaped her bedraggled saviour. However, the addition of the perfume tickled her nostrils in such a way that it made her feel very faint indeed, and not at all in the fluffy butterfly manner.
"Good, good. That is verry good. Perrhaps we shall see what all the fuss is about. Leetle doubt that my cousin eez causing a commotion of sorrts. Yes. Good."
She spoke these last few words quickly, mind already made up to follow her feet out of the door to get away from the terrible stench. Sorrona gave a grateful curtsey before hurrying out of the cabin. Once outside and beyond Jeb's view, she graced the corridor so swiftly that all concepts of looking where one was going flew overboard.
And Sorrona consequently tripped over the bosun.
THE SOGGUS FOOLS
First post Soggus 1, Yr. 1729
Rijard M. Chaos
It was almost midnight. Rijard stood leaning on the railing on the deck of the Hide. He was watching the waves go up and down. With nothing to do, he watched the waves to stay out of trouble.
Then, almost out of habit, the rain started pouring as they entered midnight. A new day had arrived again. But even though it escaped Rijard, it was also a new month. As the rain poured he finally remembered that is was Soggus, the wet and muddy month. That meant today was the first of Soggus, that meant today was Soggus Fool's Day. Rijard's favorite day. The day you could make as much trouble you wanted and could get away with it.
He started to think what, or rather who, would be his first Soggus Fool. He remembered Brek, He was his first target. Then he remembered the hideous sound, from his opinion, that came from something Tomias was fooling with. He hated that fox, in fact all the foxes on board, even the little ones.
He had his plan, so he went below deck to make it look like he was getting out of the rain. He walked through the hallway. Finally he made it to Redford's bunk. He snuck inside. The room was dark, but not dark enough; he couldn't tell if the fox was in bed or not. Quietly stepping, Rijard found the fiddle. When he grabbed it on the neck sounds from the strings came from it. He quickly turned to see if anything in the bed moved. Nothing, he continued to pick it up. Finally, Rijard had it under his arms. He got up and walked outside the bunk quietly.
The next part, well that was for Brek. Brek's bunk was next to Rijard's. So the plan was to lay in his bunk until he heard, and possibly saw, the results. Rijard walked up to Brek's bunk with equal silence. He ducked under the screen, Brek was on his bed, his brown fur sticking over the fabric that served as a cot. Rijard stood up inside the screen and placed the fiddle on the top cot. Crawling back under, Rijard smiled at his deed.
When he was out and up he thought he heard somebeast coming down the stairs. So Rijard ran to his bunk. Quickly diving onto the fabric and pulling his small blanket over his furry body. Then he waited for the results.
Macavity Ashpaw
At last... Soggus the first! One little wildcat had awaited this particular day with relish, and he had big plans. He had stayed awake all night to set it up. Life-sized, mouse-shaped dummies had been placed in various rooms aboard, positioned in such a way that their shadows would cast upon the walls, armed with cooking utensils and the odd weapon he had managed to snaffle from a few beasts' packs.
Mostly harmless snare traps and pieces of slippery soap were placed near a few bunks and cabin doors. He crouched, ready to sprint the length of the ship and many more times over.
Then came the best part. Macavity raced the length of the Golden Hide bellowing at the top of his voice in as many different woodlander voices as he could manage until a bloodthirsty cacophony echoed through the night.
"Eulaaaaaaliaaaaa!"
"Blood'n'vinegaaaaar!"
"Redwaaaaaaaaall!"
"Logalogalogaloooooog!"
"Burr aye, give oum 'okey!"
"DIE VERMIN!"
With a joyous grin, Ashpaw made the din of a terrible invasion resound about the ship, adding in his own voice to the chaos. If all went according to plan, there would be enough forced slapstick to entertain a king.
"Help! Help! We're being attacked! Murder! Murder! All beasts to their stations!"
Anithias Freedom/Armina Rogue/Narima Rouge
Anithias had not even begun to consider Soggus Fool's when he went to bed on the last day of Smarch. He had more important things to worry about, such as how many days the water supply could keep them, what precautions to take in the event of a deadly virus breaking out on ship, and what he could hide behind if Julia hit a mood swing. As sweet and dear as she was, hormones hit her like a sledgehammer.
So, of course, with all this on his mind the last thing Anithias expected to hear was the sound of a full-scale goodbeast assault on the ship.
Immediately he leaped from his bed, his mind in a whirl. Attack! Where was it? By the sounds coming from above, they were already on ship! Anithias dashed for the door, seizing his cutlass and officer's jacket from their hooks before running off down the hall.
He didn't notice his trousers, sitting forlornly on a chair back.
As soon as he got on deck Anithias knew something was wrong. The sounds of war continued, but as he looked around, Anithias couldn't find their sources. The deck was completely vacated, free of bloodthirsty war parties and good'un attack forces. The only beast on deck was Macavity, who was wearing a grin that seemed to split his face.
Then Anithias noticed what he wasn't wearing. The first mate's face flushed crimson; whether from anger or embarrassment, no one could have told. Anithias sheathed his cutlass before shamefully wrapping his officer's jacket around his waist. He could think of at least twenty ordinances he had just infracted upon, the most prominent being Indeesant Expossure, Faelore to Complae Wit Dress Coed, and Misyoose of Navael Yooniform.
"Mr. Ashpaw," he said, anger simmering on his face, "I hope you can explain yourself." Several crewbeasts had already come up and started snickering at the First Mate's lack of dress, Jeb actually balled over with laughter. It was apparent to anyone watching that no amount of explaining could get the cheeky Macavity off the hook.
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Narima had awaited the arrival of Soggus Fool's Day since she (or more specifically Armina, from whom she had stolen the knowledge) learned of it. Instantly she began to wrap herself in plots and schemes, gleefully planning her attack. It had been the events of her emergence, especially the "interaction" between her and Tomias, that gave her the idea for her master scheme.
Armina had spent the days following the incident anxiously watching for any signs of nausea, irritability, absence of certain monthly events, or other symptoms that might indicate Narima's actions had cost her dearly. To her relief, none appeared. She'd checked in with Julia, and the nurse had given her, from her limited pool of knowledge, a tentative clean bill of health. Armina was safe.
But Tomias didn't know that yet.
As Armina went to sleep, Narima comfortingly helped the tired soul by subtly injecting images of soft, warm pillows, chai tea (Armina's choice drink as of late), and gently directing her thoughts to the soft lull of the waves. Armina was asleep within a minute.
Narima allowed a smirk to cross her face, or more specifically Armina's face. She was back in control again. Making sure that Armina was still safely asleep in a cubbyhole of her mind, Narima got to her footpaws, crossing to the mirror. She slowed down her walk as she did, examining the way her hips swayed. No, no, far too suggestive. Armina had that boring straightforward walk that barely gave any hip movement. Why Tomias had ever gone for Armina was beyond her. Narima practiced a little more, finally getting down Armina's walk. Now, the face.
That was perhaps the hardest part. Narima kept trying to put on Armina's nervous expression, but she always wound up laughing. It was just too funny! Narima found amusement in her counterpart's naivety and weakness. To Narima, Armina was the equivalent of an embarrassing memory; a mistake, one she knew better than to repeat and which she was now above.
At last she mastered the nervous expression. She practiced several times, at last mastering the art of being Armina. Narima smiled at her reflection before turning, walking out of the room.
The ship was in disarray when she went outside. Narima ignored the chaos, deciding it was nothing to be concerned about. Quietly she made her way to Tomias' bunk. "Tomias?" she called nervously, hoping the todd was in.
Tomias Redford
Tomias awoke to the sounds of battle, he was about to grab his blades and rush up onto the deck when he remembered what day it was, Soggus Fools day. So knowing that fact, the battle was probably just somebeast messing with everyone. He was about to head up on deck anyway when there came a call from the door of his bunk, he pulled on his shirt and walked over to the door, which he subsequently opened to see Armina standing there.
"Oh hi there Armina... or is it Narima, I can't really tell anymore," he grinned at her, "well come on in, make yourself comfortable."
Jeshal the Ironclaw/Sorrona Ashpaw/Macavity Ashpaw
The hollering of woodlanders jolted Jeshal from the first night of sleep he'd managed to attain for at least a week. With a snarl he leapt from his bunk, mostly dressed as was usual for his resting habits, and snatched up his cutlass. He did not bother with his frockcoat but quickly adorned his hat before stepping out to seek out the commotion.
The Ironclaw caught sight of a shadow as he passed the galley. He drew a quiet breath and then launched himself into the room. The silhouette of a mouse flickered upon the wall. He rounded the door and plunged his sword point into -
- a sack of flour with kitchen pots balanced upon its top.
The monstrosity had clearly been constructed to create the illusion. Jeshal's blood boiled. If there was something he hated, it was admitting he had been outwitted. Thoroughly enraged, the bosun stalked out of the galley in search of the culprit.
Unfortunately one of his bare footpaws located a sudsy bar of soap in the gangway. Tail flying in the air, Jeshal landed smack on his back.
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Dark. Why was it so dark? Sorrona tried to open her eyes again, in case they had not listened to her the first time. Still pitch black. Her legs cramped suddenly and she noted that she was bunched up in a confined space. Something was tied about her mouth. Her head ached and her tongue tasted... bitter...
Drugged!
At first she was gripped by fear, but slowly her memory informed her in a less than joyous tone that she had been dreading this particular day and had been hoping to avoid her terror of a cousin for the duration.
The locked chest in somebeast's cabin rattled and banged, and from inside came the strangest sound.
"Mmmcvviteeeeeeeeeeee!"
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Macavity, the Catanova of the Golden Hide used all of his emotional strength to keep from laughing as Anithias - the first mate, of all beasts! - burst out on deck in all the glory of his underwear. Had it not been for the fact that there was already a fair amount of beasts bearing witness, his marvellous audience, the little wildcat would surely have bolted already.
Slowly backing off across the deck, Macavity tipped his boater respectfully to the embarrassed Master Freedom. The longer he spoke, the more his laughter threatened to spill out.
"Well, sir..." He stifled a snort. "You see..." He creased; regained his composure. "You should be proud to be a part of such a wonderful aspect of our Imperium culture." He bit his lip, showing off his fangs, one of which was the silver replacement from a fight he had undoubtedly caused. "Eh? Wot, wot?" He swallowed, still moving backwards. "The thing is...er..."
Macavity's paw felt the comforting cords of the rigging as he backed into them.
"Soggus Fool!"
His huge mischievous grin flickered for an instant before he turned and started scampering up the ratlines.
Anithias Freedom/Narima Rouge
Macavity should have considered himself extremely lucky that Anithias was an extreme acrophobic. The first mate rushed to a spot underneath the rigging, his gaze burning a hole in the lines as he watched the prankster.
"MR. ASHPAW!" he bellowed, shaking the fist that wasn't keeping his jacket secure around his midsection. "I AM ORDERING YOU TO COME DOWN HERE!" The crowd just snickered louder at the first mate's ridiculous and obvious lack of control. For the first time he looked like the silly, powerless fox that he was, jumping and shouting at an antagonist with no ability to strike back.
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Narima almost smiled as Tomias opened the door. Instantly she caught herself, returning herself to the nervous expression.
Tomias grinned at her. "Oh hi there Armina... or is it Narima, I can't really tell anymore. Well come on in, make yourself comfortable." Narima resisted the urge to reply with something seductive, instead nervously brushing past him into the room.
"Tomias, I need to tell you something," she said nervously, pausing to gasp for breath. It was more difficult to play Armina than she thought. She looked flustered for a moment, as if still recovering from an embarrassing shock and trying to find the courage to explain it. "Tomias..." She looked at the todd, her heart in her throat. She poured as much combined love and fear as she could into her gaze.
"Tomias," she continued, "I'm pregnant."
Jeb
Jeb was in a good mood. So far he'd set up some of the best Soggus Fools' pranks he could remember in a long time. He'd put crab flavouring in the water supply (ever drink crab? Not good), stolen the firing mechanisms for the ballistae, and poured itching powder into the water used to wash the officers' clothes. All the officers would wake up tomorrow to find themselves itching like crazy. To make matters even better, he'd just witnessed the exposure of the first mate. The realm of insolent Freedom impressions had just been blown wide open.
Content with a hard night's work, he was headed back to his cabin for a good day's sleep when he heard a strange sound. It sounded like a gagged female stuck inside a trunk trying to get out. Peering inside the nearest cabin, Jeb was surprised to see a trunk that appeared to be bouncing on its corners. Instantly a long-dead part of Jeb's brain commonly called 'gallantry' kicked in.
"Nuh t' wurreh, swehhart!" Jeb called to the locked beast. "Uh'll save ye!" Running down the hallway, he glanced about frantically. What could he use to open a locked trunk? And then he saw it. A beautiful ax with a solid-oak handle, fire-hardened steel head, and a glistening curved edge. It was perfect.
Seizing it, Jeb returned to the cabin. He eyed the lock critically, like a tinkyball player lining up for a shot. Instantly he was Leopard Oak, the Imperium-famous tinkyball champion, lining up for a shot. It was the 19th hole, par 11, and he had to make this one shot to win the cup. Jeb swung –
—and into the rough.
Jeb winced as the axehead lodged itself in the wood, the blade poking through on the other side. He could only imagine the terror he'd inflicted on the hapless female. "Surreh!" he apologized, pulling it out and trying again.
It took 18 shots, all of which landed in the rough, before Jeb was even close to the putting green. By then he'd given up and simply went with a different tactic; attack the rough. Perhaps he could cut a hole wide enough to allow the female through! Jeb lined up for the shot—
It landed straight in the hole. The lock clanked in protest before splitting in half, falling to the floor. Jeb stared in shock at his iron for a moment before holding it aloft, a look of glory on his face. The crowd was going wild! Never had they seen such mastery, such skill, such handsomeness demonstrated on the tinkyball course! Jeb pumped his arms in victory-
And he remembered the trapped femme. Instantly the image of being swarmed by a scantily-clad female fan club disappeared, and Jeb was left with an unopened trunk.
Cautiously Jeb lifted the lid, peering in. A dust-and-splinter coated Sorrona looked back at him. Instantly Jeb's heart lodged itself in his throat, competing with his Adam's apple for "Most Breath-Constricting Organ". It was love at first sight. Then again, it was love at first sight every time Jeb laid eyes on a female, but he didn't think about that. All he knew was that he was in love with a female whom he'd saved.
Jeb removed the gag from her mouth before bowing low to her. "Seir Jeb, a' yer seirvace," he purred, sneaking a glance at the top half of her torso.
Sorrona Ashpaw/Jeshal the Ironclaw/Macavity Ashpaw
The imprisoned wildcat's breath had caught in her chest as a voice, muffled by the wood, bellowed in an unflattering accent, "Nuh t' wurreh, swehhart! Uh'll save ye!"
Now that she was not alone, Sorrona regained her composure and settled quietly in the trunk. That is, until the pattering of her intended rescuer's feet re-entered the room and shortly thereafter an axe edge exploded into view from her side of the chest. The female's golden eyes boggled at the gleaming spike that had nearly trimmed off her whiskers.
She listened with a faint terror to Jeb's repeat performances and at last, when she thought it would never end, there was the sound of the lock dropping to the floor. Trembling, she opened her eyes from where she had been cowering. Her hood fell back from her head as the lid was opened, revealing her silvery fur to be covered in sawdust that trickled off like sand.
Sorrona looked up into the face of the most unclean pulp of a wildcat she had ever perceived. He was so motheaten in his appearance that he could only loosely be referred to as one of her own species, but he was nonetheless. Carefully, she picked herself up to her feet, somewhat unsteadily. Her eyes dipped low, not because she could not bear to look at him, but merely out of her 'submissive' habit. Still, the incident had caused her to be on edge. Her chest rose and fell quickly with the remnants of panic. She lifted her hood and adjusted it back onto its rightful place, letting her ears slip through the slits.
"I thank you, sirre...Jeb," she answered, taking a tentative step out of the chest. The look in his eyes, so similar to the looks her cousin gave so many females aboard, unnerved her. "You arre a kind beast. Perrhaps a leetle overr-forrceful, but the gesturre and rresult are most apprreciated."
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Groaning and grumbling to himself, Jeshal traipsed back in search of his cabin, a paw at his aching back since the incident with the soap. All around the ship he could hear the shouts and wails of others' misfortunes. Normally it would have been music to his ears. Allowing his curiosity to creep in, he resolved to retrieve his coat from his quarters before heading topside to see what all the fuss was about.
The Ironclaw entered his room, snatched up and donned his frockcoat, and ventured down the hallway. It was but a few moments before his anguished yelps could be heard. Snarling, kicking and biting at invisible foes, the bosun rolled about at the foot of the stairs to the maindeck. Jeb's itching powder had claimed another victim.
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The prankster, Macavity, scrambled up into the crow's nest. He was exhilarated and just a little afraid of being hanged by the yardarm. The cheeky, handsome wildcat gathered his breath and his infectious grin, and then peered down at the screaming figure of Anithias Freedom. Spurred on by his adrenaline, he could not stop the insolence from bursting out of his mouth in harespeak.
"What ho there, sir? I can't bally well hear you! Bordering me to slum down beer? You look like you've had enough as it is! Do we actually keep such beverages up here? Whatever would the Captain say? Look, I daresay if you just pop back and change out of your furry long-johns you'll make a sight more sense to me. Eh, wot?"
Tomias Redford
Tomias stared at Armina for a moment, his mind racing. What would Anithias do to him, could he be a good father, and was he really ready for this sorta relationship. Luckily for him, the answer to those questions were, don't care, yes and yes. He grinned at Armina.
"Th... that is great news, congratulations, well congratulations to us both I guess," he stammered, "we are going to be parents, this is wonderful news."
He walked over and hugged her, pouring all his love, and supporting feelings into that hug.
"Don't worry, we can do this, we can make it work."
Armina Rogue/Narima Rouge/Anithias Freedom/Julia Freedom/Jeb
Armina was surprised when Tomias reacted not with shock, as Narima had expected (well, some shock perhaps, but not nearly as much as Armina would have thought), or with anger, or defiance (Narima would have loved the traditional "How do I know it's mine anyway?"), but with love and tentative happiness.
The look of surprise remained glued on Armina's face as Tomias embraced her, love and support surrounding her. For a brief moment Narima's shell of immaturity and selfishness was cracked open, and some of the positive feeling swept into her. She blinked as the love, the true, actual love, entered her, mingling with her spirit. It felt... nice. It felt nice. That was the best way Narima could describe it. It was something pure, and selfless, and something that she wanted to keep.
But she couldn't. They wouldn't let her keep it. None of them would ever show her this kind of emotion, ever care about her for being Narima, if they knew it was her. And it hurt. It hurt her deep inside, to know that she wasn't allowed to be loved, that no one would ever care for her. She was Armina too! She was just as much a part of that being as her other half was. And yet they treated her like an invader, as if she wasn't supposed to exist. It was for this reason that the tears ran down her face as Tomias embraced her.
"I'm sorry," she choked out, meaning that she was sorry he had to hate her, and that she had to pretend for him to like her at all. To Tomias, however, it would likely have come across as sorry for the pregnancy, fake as it was. Which was fine with Narima.
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Anithias fumed as the Catanova mockingly "misheard" his words. The little audience seemed to find it uproariously funny, however, laughing at the first mate's loss of dignity. Even Urel, who didn't like to think badly of anybeast, was smiling in gentle amusement. It was more insolence than Anithias could take. He would not be disrespected!
"ALL OF YOU, BACK TO YOUR DUTIES!" Anithias shouted angrily, storming through the crowd. The waning moonlight glimmered off his bare torso, making the golden fur seem silver. He could still hear their laughter as he marched toward his bunk, though the laughter had long-ago died. It rankled him, bringing back memories of taunting and provoking in his youth. No one knew better how to inflict cruelty than siblings, and Anithias had six. The mocking laughter of the crewbeasts stung at him, opening old wounds once more.
Anithias pushed open the door to his cabin, revealing a much-awakened Julia. "What-" Her jaw dropped open as she saw Anithias' poor state of dress. "'Nithy! Where are your clothes?!"
Anithias grabbed the trousers from their place over the chair back. "I'm afraid Mr. Ashpaw had a joke at my expense," he explained grumpily, forcing a leg into his trousers.
"Yes, but how on earth could you forget your- 'NITHY!" Anithias was rolling around the floor in agony. Jeb had rather overdosed on the itching powder, mainly because he'd waited until afterward to ask Urel about the difference between a cup and a teaspoon. Once he'd learned the difference, he'd figured there really wasn't anything to be done, so he just left things the way they were. Much to the misfortune of the officers.
Julia scrambled from the bed, rushing to her husband's side. It didn't take her much to figure out what was causing the pain; obviously some prankster crewbeast had put itching powder in Anithias' trousers. Anithias was struggling with the clothing, trying to remove it through the pain. Julia acted instantly- seizing Anithias' pocketknife from his desk, she cut the pants down the seam, being very careful as she did so; there were certain areas that one didn't want to damage. It was difficult work, especially as Anithias was still growling and twitching with the pain.
Finally the knife burst through the last strand of fabric, and the itching pants fell away. Anithias looked up at his wife gratefully, still panting from the pain. "You..." he wheezed, grinning, "never miss a chance to get rid of my trousers, do you?" Shocked, Julia sent a punch to his shoulder before getting up, allowing the smile to creep over her when Anithias wasn't looking. Males.
Anithias got to his footpaws before moving to join Julia, putting an arm around her shoulders. He sighed, looking at their cabin. "You know," he spoke, "maybe we should just spend the day in bed. Just ignore Soggus Fool's Day 1729 altogether."
Julia looked up at him in mock surprise and shock. "But what would the officers think?" she asked teasingly.
Anithias smiled as he looked back at his wife. His wife. He could never get over the joy of that fact through all the months. "Hang the officers," he whispered, leading her back to bed.
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The beautiful wildcattess moved like royalty, a submissive grace demonstrated in her every move. As she stood, Jeb felt his heart leap past his throat and lodge itself in his skull. She was amazing, everything Jeb could have wanted in a femme: charm, poise, humility, calmness, submissiveness. Now, if there were only five more of her.
"I thank you, sirre...Jeb," she said, somewhat nervously. Jeb didn't think it was him; she was probably still very scared from having been locked in a dark, scary trunk. Blass 'er purr f'mele 'art, Jeb thought sympathetically.
"You arre a kind beast. Perrhaps a leetle overr-forrceful, but the gesturre and rresult are most apprreciated."
Jeb did not pick up on the slight admonishment. "Ennehteng fer ye, derlin'," Jeb purred, taking her paw in his. Suddenly he realized his poor choice of adjective. "Er. Mah quean." He quickly kissed her paw to make up for it.
Sorrona Ashpaw
The word took the silver tabby by surprise, although she was not certain why. Despite her bloodline she had not cared for power. She was insignificant. There was too much danger and too many other rumps preened for the hard seat of a throne.
Quean.
But Jeb had only meant it as a term of endearment. For a moment, Sorrona's mouth was parted, stunned. She forgot herself and looked up at him, her golden eyes performing a rarity of meeting another's gaze. It was certain that most other females would have snatched away their paw and rubbed it vigorously, wishing for soap, but her confusion and partial gratitude was enough to make her withdrawal very slow.
At last she shook it off, dropped her eyeline and gave a polite cough. "Yes, well, I cannot thank you enough, sirre. I hope that you have not been subject to any of these prranks that arre want to happen on such a day as thees?"
Jeb
The wildcattess seemed shocked by Jeb's chivalry, standing with her mouth slightly parted. For a moment Jeb panicked, believing that it was kissing her paw that had induced this state. Still, she hadn't slapped him yet, which was a good sign.
At last the femme slowly withdrew her paw, seeming to recover from her daze. She coughed politely, drawing her golden eyes away from Jeb's murky ones. "Yes, well, I cannot thank you enough, sirre," she purred humbly. That purr almost send Jeb straight through the ceiling into heaven- it was such a very fine purr. "I hope that you have not been subject to any of these prranks that arre want to happen on such a day as thees?"
It took a moment for Jeb to stop floating in the clouds and return to the ground. "Wheh nuh, Ah've nuh 'ad tha' unfurt'nism, ma'am," he said smoothly, unconsciously removing his perfume bottle from his pocket and applying it under his arms. Instantly odeur des egouts flooded the cabin, mingling with the already-present odeur d'aisselles. It was enough stench to drive away a badger.
Sorrona Ashpaw
The shy wildcattess had been trying her best not to wrinkle her nose at the distinctive odour that continuously escaped her bedraggled saviour. However, the addition of the perfume tickled her nostrils in such a way that it made her feel very faint indeed, and not at all in the fluffy butterfly manner.
"Good, good. That is verry good. Perrhaps we shall see what all the fuss is about. Leetle doubt that my cousin eez causing a commotion of sorrts. Yes. Good."
She spoke these last few words quickly, mind already made up to follow her feet out of the door to get away from the terrible stench. Sorrona gave a grateful curtsey before hurrying out of the cabin. Once outside and beyond Jeb's view, she graced the corridor so swiftly that all concepts of looking where one was going flew overboard.
And Sorrona consequently tripped over the bosun.
