Open The Trenches Trembling Treble

Kaii Nashirou

Rating: Able Seabeast
Engineer's Mate
Gentry: Gentlebeast
Influence
13,083.00
(I've messed up and this should be Whisper's thread, not Kaii's. Just keep this in mind for the future.)

Another day, another panic attack. Such was a life for the small fox that looked nothing like they should.

Whisper walked by the banks, shops, other institutions they saw for the first time. They really were feeling out of place wherever they went. The city had to offer an experience truly beyond anything they knew in life. Especially when it comes to being stressful. Too many noises, voices, eyes, ears, tails... Whisper was just overwhelmed.

And yet they wandered in search of inspiration. Like a parasite, an idea for a piece that would portray this chaos and weird harmony it brought drilled a hole in their little head. Whisper would much rather stay at their little room, experiment with instruments... and yet, that wouldn't let them make what they wanted. Ambition crashed with Anxiety. Fear of insufficiency with fear of society. All boiling down to them now walking the streets with visible trembling.

Due to their size and lack of visible feminine traits, Whisper could at least just use an excuse of being just a child when they needed to escape. Honestly they didn't feel like adult at all. And yet life demanded it, at least their parents were trying to make it as smooth as it could be.

Suddenly a bunch of officers of some sort rushed across the street. One of them was yelling at someone something about stopping. Whisper couldn't care about that. They were just struck with fear as if with a lightning bolt. The fox just scurried away into the nearest building.

That was a mistake.

Suddenly Whisper found themselves at what looked like an inn. Many various beasts sat around their tables, drinks and snacks in their paws. There was however a small scene. Place for a musician that wasn't there. And the tiny fox now realized, they came in holding their violin in paw...

Weight of (self-perceived) expectations made Whisper feel physically ill. Unable to move and almost ready to throw up. They could play, they knew it and were sure it would go well. It just... wasn't the right moment.

They basically curled into a tiny ball at the entrance. Becoming more aware of how bad and pathetic this must've looked, a few soft whimpers and tears followed soon. This prompted a bunch of chuckles and laughs, something that made the sensation even worse. Especially as one beast was now coming over, ill intention behind their eyes and a malicious grin upon their snout. Whisper was frozen in place. Already knowing how bad things will become once they get to them.
 
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The ill-intentions of the beast advancing on the trembling fox were halted by a booming voice, one that echoed a threat that, in the past few weeks, had become feared throughout the Bilge:

"Hu'g!"

Red arms that were surprisingly plush swooped down and scooped up the trembling fox, wrapping her in the warmest, most comfortable, most protective embrace that the Harbor had yet seen. The beast holding her glared a threat of fiery death at the crowd, one backed up by her performance in a brawl during a prior visit. "I'su my furein'du!" she snarled at the crowd, raising her hackles and baring her teeth. "No tou'che!"
 
Whisper only have managed to yelp as an overwhelming force encompassed them. They weren't per se not fond of hugs but one from a stranger? In her state? They have froze, instinctively clinging on whilst crying into that luscious fur. Anxiety was killing her. Whisper wished to just disappear into nothingness. To not be that pathetic, afraid child among the other, functioning beings.

The beast stopped at the sight of powerful and massive being scooping their target into their arm. He just sneered at her words. "What are ya sayin' freak? Yer size didn' come with brains now did it?" He mocked, clearly not planning on being nice. Some others chuckled at his words, making the local bullies the harbour was named after clearly seen among others.

The rest of the clientele was mostly indifferent, few were appalled at the mockery and shown disdain towards the bullies but they weren't doing a thing really.
 
Said patron laughed, clearly oblivious to the threat the giant red beast posed. Some of those that showed support of his actions had faltered but others just became more jarringly mocking.

"With yer accen'? Shut it ya overgrown rug." Laughed the beast, coming close and stepping to block their way out.

Some others stood up to join the mocking. They however kept their distance, intimidated at least with the size, even though they were eager to join the mocking.

Whisper in the meanwhile scrambled to keep their violin in their paws. They were not in any shape to do anything but shake, cry and whimper. The lithe fox wished to play something, turn away attention from them and the giant red beast hugging them but… the same beast made it impossible. And even if they let go? Whisper wouldn’t even be able to move and start playing.
 
“…so n-no, sir, when they’re saying ‘remand’ it’s not ‘demand’ misspelled: it’s actually rather serious.”

The stoat’s blank stare did not shift, and it was taking everything in the little jerboa’s power to neither laugh or cry. To do either might incur the ire of the increasingly frustrated beast, though he dearly wished he could massage his temples. The headache had well and truly set in.

In an attempt to make ends meet across the year, one of Berchar’s services as an educated beast had been to, for a reasonable fee, assist in the reading and filling out of forms and paperwork for those who could not. What he hadn’t expected was so much of it to come from the Ministry of Justice. Removing his glasses, Berchar polished them busily. “We’ve been at this for well over an hour. You said you had the week to return these to the Ministry, so why don’t we pick this up tomorrow? Perhaps a break would do us some good.” To his relief the stoat seemed just as keen to be gone, though Berchar rather suspected it was less to do with boredom and more his increasing realisation that he was days from an arrest. With a grunt and mumbled comment the beast was gone. Thank goodness.

His long-suffering sigh of relief, however was short-lived. At first Berchar’s eye caught the presence of a fox who had just entered the inn who seemed entirely overwhelmed. Honestly, he could well relate: though he had been better placed to handle his first days in the city he often felt far more terrified than he liked to admit. Poor thing. Before he could think anything further on it, another beast was advancing – and then…His eyes widened a touch behind his spectacles. In the city of his youth he had seen red pandas but it had been many a season, and truly he had forgotten their size and presence. His ears wilted, though it did not take long to realise that she was trying to act as a protective force.

Whether it was an over-abundance of empathy for the fox, the sense of safety from the red panda, or simply irritability from his own headache, Berchar found himself joining in. Hopping down from his seat, the jerboa noted the instrument the fox carried. “E-excuse me, is this how you treat all the entertainers who play in the inn?” he squeaked. “I dare say the barman wouldn’t be happy to see you all chasing off the beast he’s paid to play for you! Show some respect for an artist!”
 
Pomodu took note of the little jerboa hopping about, her eyes widened as she recognized the species. "Yesiboqeqota cu nakabuqe wamivege rewakebingo lu leceyilesebiko lataruba!" she exclaimed in what mast surely be her native tongue. When there was no recognition from the smaller animal, she switched back to Vulpinsulan. "Dey ah teribuh!" she exclaimed, gesturing with one arm to the beasts present. "Why ah dey li'ke di'su? Di Valupin'sula i'su di lan'du o'f heroe'su! Bu't dey ah villain'su."
 
The sight of yet another, not vulpine and on top of that one with weird proportions beast, caused the bully and his small group of supporters, made mostly of the local foxes laugh. Clearly they were out for blood, or at least trying to get some cheap entertainment at the cost of the others.

"Oy, look at 'em pals. Sticklegs here thinks da child is an artist just cuz they have a gusle. Yer brain went down to ya tail? Kits like this scam us propah folk all around the place. Sogg off." The uncouth man spoke with clear disdain. The few others cheered him, some patrons were leaving the place as they couldn't stand this outright bullying anymore.

The barman was nowhere to be seen for now, two barmaids that were at the place seemed afraid, just like the most of the remaining patrons that weren't supportive of this but intimidated by the group.

Whisper on the other hand managed the worst of their shock. Being afraid now their sole existence will bring problems to the two other beasts who came to defend them, the fox manage to turn a bit and, through tears, speak in a childish, barely above a whisper voice.


"I... can play." They've managed and gave a look to the giant that held them. It looked less like a determination and more like a plea, but for Whisper? It was a lot.
 
Bemusement flitted across the jerboa’s face, with something akin to horror coming swift on its heels as the red panda explained her frustration. He would laugh if the concept of heroism in this city wasn’t so despairing to the beleaguered little fellow.

There was little time for an immediate reply as the jeers and barbed comments cut in, causing Berchar’s long ears to stand rigid with indignation. Fortunately, such a position allowed his attuned ears to catch the quiet voice of the youthful beast. Once again he found himself talking faster than he could consider the concequences.

“See?” He gestured to the gathering with a sweeping paw as he looked to the red panda. “All of them are like this because the Harbour is always like this: they won’t even believe in an artist despite the instrument right before them!” Puffed up with his own anger, the diminutive creature looked to the ringleader. “I am telling you this is a performer. Why not let the beast play? At the very least that would answer your question. What harm would there be in that?”
 
Pomodu stilled at the young fox's request. Carefully, as if they were delicate, she set the fox down, making sure they were standing on their own two footpaws before releasing dem. "I'f you pulay," she quietly advised the fox, "I sutay. I no le'tu de'm huh't you." She glared at the other patrons to make her threat clear.
 
Whisper was ever so slightly encouraged by the red giant and small rodent. Just enough that they started moving towards the scene. The bullying patrons didn't stop them. It seems that in the end, they were nothing but all bark and no bite. Maybe in part due to the fact that owning the place Barmaid came down to see what was the problem. And as Whisper was slowly padding towards the scene, she was the one to stop them.


"Oi, kit. If yah wanna play, I take a ten gilder deposit. Don't wanna scrappy music at me place." She said with stern, albeit not too oppressive voice.

Whisper was not expecting that and they stopped frozen again, earning few snickers and comments about being nothing but a poor kid.
It took them a moment to reach their trembling paw into the coat, producing very few coins whisper had on them right now. Slowly counting four of them.

They couldn't look up to the barmaid. It was to embarrassing to admit or utter a word. Whisper barely managed to look at the two beasts who supported them, instinctively looking any sort of help as again, they got stuck in anxiety induced paralysis.
 
Pomodu didn't even hesitate. She approached the owner directly, reaching into her pocket and taking a large, shining hundred-gilder coin and slapping it into the bar maids paw. "She pulay a'su lo'ngu a'su she li'ke," the red panda declared, glaring at the nearby tables to make clear her threat to any detractors.
 
Whisper yelped upon this generosity. They were anything but grateful and yet... fearful. Such money was not to be given freely and Whisper knew for sure they would have to spend months to get that back. But the deed was done. The little fox couldn't now do anything more than walk up to the stage, slowly padding, carefully as if stepping on the glass while trying not to crush it.

Finally getting onto the little stage, Whisper emptied their mind. Instead focusing all the emotions upon the instrument. Slowly beginning to stroke the strings, plucking a few inviting notes before pulling the bow onto the violin. The music that followed was their way of expressing what they've felt. The music was melancholic, slow yet accentuated with sharp notes that spiked like stress within them. Soon it calmed down again, plucking the strings again with left paw, Whisper used the right one to get the flute, using it for simple background chords while the violin made continued to speak the story of the feelings.

And as their body relaxed and grew more confident. The music also became more energetic, alive and enthusiastic. Finally dropping the flute, Whisper now again focused on the strings. Playing a music to convey curiosity and bemusement with the situation they were at. Few false notes, perfectly placed made for a mysterious tune, yet playing with Major chords made for a rather happy piece that emphasised joys of discovery.
 
It was no easy feat for Berchar to mask the little sign of relief when the red panda paid – he would have had to consider using what he had just been given, otherwise – but his eyes widened further to note just how generous the beast had been. Protective and monied? As the fox began to set up on the little stage he shuffled a touch closer to the giant creature, hopeful that her presence would forestall any further trouble.

The tip of his long tail began to twitch in time with the melodies being played, delighted to hear something besides the usual bawdy shanties and raucous tunes for once. He always had loved when his mother played for him when he was little…

Tapping one footpaw, Berchar managed a shy smile as he looked up at the red panda. “Rather good, isn’t it? That was a very kind thing you did.”
 
Pomodu listened eagerly to the performance, smiling encouragingly at the young fox throughout. As they got more comfortable and confident, the panda's smile grew, basking in the delight of good music. She leaned down to catch the jerboa's words, her expression turning quizzical at the sentiment. "I'su jusutu goh'du," she remarked, seemingly oblivious to the truly obscene amount of wealth she was carrying around in her pockets. "I'su de lea'sutu I ca'n do."
 
Whisper continued to play, but the bullies were not done at all. In fact, them being wrong made them seemingly more pissed. The general atmosphere of the place turned against them as most patrons enjoyed the music that came out. The few foxes that earlier antagonized Whisper moved to the side but clearly they were looking daggers at the red giant and little Jeroba

Whisper was too busy and engulfed in continuing to express their emotions via music to notice that the planks underneath their paws were starting to miss some nails. It didn't took long before Whisper fell down as the planks failed under them. A long move of their bow on the violin that accompanied the fall, sounded like a scream Whipser couldn't muster.

While the bullies snickered in the corner, it wasn't clear why the scene had collapsed so suddenly. Whisper lied there among the broken wood, sobbing and hugging their violin that fortunately wasn't damaged in any way.

Few patrons moved to help and clear the wood to free them. The vixen who owned the place was fuming at the situation. She moved to the entrance and yelled. "Alright. No beast gonna leave till I know who caused that and pay me back. Unless y'all want me to bring in Forgeys."
 
The red panda’s offpawed way of discussing money raised eyebrows, and Berchar had several questions about her experiences – all of which would have to wait. As the boards cracked and Whisper plummeted through the stage the jerboa gaped for several seconds at the scene before the quiet, yet ever-distinct sound of sobs reached his ears.

There was no way in ‘Gates he was going to deal with an angry vixen, and so Berchar did not even offer response in his eagerness to avoid her ire. Confident in the knowledge that his newest fluffy friend would be just as keen to help as he, Berchar hopped up onto the stage in a single bound, chattering anxiously as he moved to assist the fox. “Oh, oh dear – are you quite alright?”
 
Pomodu's eyes widened as the stage collapsed beneath Whisper's footpaws, and she ran with Berchar to help the fox out of her predicament. "He're, he're, hu'gu," she urged, carefully trying to extract the musician and her instrument. The suddenness of the collapse naturally triggered her suspicion of the awful beasts who had been harassing the poor vixen, but she couldn't see how they would have masterminded it from afar.
 
Whisper was still sobing but their shock subsided and so did their tears once the two beasts who assisted them earlier came to their rescue again. It took them a while to get to speaking again, especially as they had to first make sure their instruments were unharmed by this. Trembling arms and hugs from Red Panda didn't help but Whisper was starting to feel safe in their embrace.

While the patrons were looking daggers at one another (mostly at the few bullies that snickered at the collapse), Whisper got themselves to speak. A huge feat but necessary one. "I... somebeast did remove the nails." They spoke melodically, as if singing to some beat, albeit sounding like a child. Nonetheless, as much as they hated it, some information could only be said, not played. "I don't want to cause trouble..." Whisper added barely audibly.
 
Berchar was inclined to agree with the softly-spoken little fox, though like Pomudu he was struggling to imagine just how all of this had transpired so swiftly. The threat was ever-present and tugging now at the jerboa's instincts to flee from confrontation. They had their big red companion on their side, of course, but what happens when the Fogeys are called in to subdue a 'big red monster' attacking patrons? It was only a small core of troublemakers now, but he'd lived long enough in the Slups to see fights blossom.

"Perhaps..." he ventured quietly, out of earshot of the jeering patrons, "perhaps we should consider moving to a different location? After all, if they don't appreciate your music here, why not perform somewhere where they will?" He looked up to the red panda, anxious eyes making a silent plea for agreement.
 
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