You'd Look Good Above a Fireplace

From Redwall MUCK Wiki


Setting:

Halyard Village: Gambling Den

=========================[ Gambling Den ]========================
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The gambling den may have once been some sort of warehouse of moderate size,

now refurbished for its current purpose. The wood of the original structural

skeleton, all that survived the long-ago hurricane, is visibly darker than

that of the walls and other recent repairs. It has been worn smooth by years

of exposure to the elements, and similar wood, likely taken from other nearby

ruins, has been use to craft the bar counter, as well as most of the other

furniture. The room is, appropriately, somewhat dimly lit, relying mostly on

lanterns hung directly above each table. Those round tables are the focus of

the room, and all else is designed around them - there are least half a dozen

of them, somewhat variable in diameter, but each surrounded by six to eight

chairs. The bar, though well-stocked with a clear leaning toward hard liquor,

has only a few stools placed along the counter. Along the walls are hung an

assortment of nautical-themed decor - most notably a massive anchor, splotchy

and spotted teal with rust. A wooden figurehead, ornately carved in the image

of a fierce-looking she-cat, is painted in red, black, and gold and mounted

above a fireplace built of pock-marked volcanic rock. Near the entrance, a

locked door leads into a small office, and at the far side of the room,

through a wide doorway veiled with a heavy curtain, is the smoking lair.

=============================================================================

Characters:

Lutea, the Taggerung

Crossfang and Rsk, thieves (provided by Vannon)

For Context:

[1]

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Lutea has come a long way from the homeless, friendless, wandering castaway that first stumbled into Halyard Village, and for the first time in a /long/ time - she has money to lose! But, surprisingly, she didn't do a whole lot of losing; and now she has winnings to /spend/! The otter lords over a pitcher of ale, distributing it, selectively, as she sees fit. "YOU get som'ale, YOU get som'ale, EVERYBODY GETS AAAAAAALE!" Or...just distributing it to whoever is closest to her - a growing crowd, now that she is buying drinks.

Crossfang has not come a long way from the homeless thief that she is. She is still homeless and still a thief and although she is fat, her belly is quite empty. A fact driven home by the loss of the last of her money.

The marbled vixen slumps against the bar. She is joined shortly thereafter by her lizardy friend. He slumps into his chair and sighs.

"So...went well did it?" The fox asks.

Rsk only sighs.

The otter, having distributed as much as her wallet can handle, now tilts the entire pitcher against her muzzle to hearty chants of "CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG!" The shouts grow in intensity, and end in raucous rounds of applause and screaming as she slams the empty pitcher on the bar. Lutea stumbles backwards, grabbing at chairs to keep from falling to the ground. One of the chairs belongs to the fox, another to the lizard.... And she still hits the ground.

The fox and lizard both yelp as their chairs are pulled down by the weight of the beer filled otter, tumbling over and onto Lutea in one big fuzzy pile. "GaH! My head!" shouts the lizard.

"What do you think you are doing! You...you..." The vixen sits up onto her knees, "/You/."

Lutea blinks, blearily, at the fox before her face splits into a wide grin. "Youuuu! You /guysss/!" She laughs, reaching a paw out to slap the vixen on the back. "Why're you on th'/ground/, tha's a silly place t'be." She slips and stumbles and slides out from beneath the pile and drags herself upright before offering a paw down to each of them. "How /are/ you...you..../guys/?" She giggles.

"How do you /think/?" The vixen begins to growl, especially at the touch of the otter. She stands up without the otter's help but the lizard allows himself to be pulled up.

"Fine, if people would stop slapping me in the head."

"Oh put a scock in it Rsk, no one cares about yer stupid head. And YOU...youuuuuu..." The vixen looks the drunk beast up and down, "How are you doing so well for yourself? Ye didn't win THAT much I think from the fighting pits..."

Lutea tilts her head curiously, completely missing the hostility in the fox's voice. "Heheee, well I've been woooorkin', an' saaaavin', an' gaaaaaamblin'!" Her voice is sing song, drawing out the words with increasing glee. Her eyes slide from the fox to the lizard. "/I/ care 'bout y'head, mate." She stumbles forward to cup her paws around either side of that head. "Need me t'kiss it?" She asks, her face furrowed into serious concern.

The lizards face furrows into that of concern for his own well-being, especially when the fox's face furrows into that of jealous rage. Crossfang's white fur turns red around her cheeks.

And then she smiles: and that only worries Rsk more.

"Well aren't you the successful gal!" She places an arm around the otter's shoulder, trying to usher Lutea away from Rsk. "Maybe you can show us how you won so much monies...at a...dice game outside...in the alley...don'tcha know that's where the REAL money is?”

Again, the tattooed otter misses every cue, every warning - her face, instead, becomes even more serious, her brow knitting tighter. She pulls the lizard's face to her own, nose to nose, eye to eye, and /ever so gently/ just...kisses his forehead. She whispers to him: "Hush, little one. Don' look so /sad/." Drunk Lutea is /worst/ Lutea. She spins away from him to snake an arm around the fox's waist, leaning heavily against her. "/SURE/!" She laughs. "Sounds fun!" What could go wrong?

The lizard gasps in astonishment, biting his claws as Crossfang leads the otter to the exit of the gambling den. She has a mad sort of smile in her eyes, paw locked in a death grip on her dagger hilt as she staggers to support the otter's weight. "Yes. FUN. We will have so much FUN. That is a lovely pelt you have, the tattoo's are just beautiful! I bet some vermin would just LOVE to have it hanging over their fire place!"

Lutea giggles, drunkenly, as she is led towards the exit. "Eeeeheeeeeheeee!" She snatches the beer from a vole's paws as they pass, the alcohol dribbling from the corners of her mouth. "Oh, /thank/ ye'. Y'know everybeast is tellin' me Ah'm a fff-freak f'it, so Ah'm glad y' - wait, wha'?" She is still laughing as she is pushed through the door, and throws her glass against the bricks of the alley with a gleeful clatter. What's a few more glass shards on the ground?

The fox steps through, scanning the street for a nice alley way to murder the poor darling in. Kiss /her/ lizard will she? They will see about THAT!

Rsk steps out reaching out to grab Crossfang by the shoulder, "Cross...what're you doing? We are thieves, not murderers!" He hisses into her ear.

"Right, an I'm just going to steal her hide a little bit. M'kay?" She whispers back.

"Yes, yes! Why don't we walk a little deeper into the alley before we go gambling, work off all that ale. You don't want to grow too pudgy now do you? You can tell me all about your freakishly interesting fur on the way."

The fox tries to lead the beast deeper into the alley by pulling on her arm. Rsk complies by standing watch with his back turned to the alley. He rubs his tail nervously as he waits...

Lutea continues to be led on, giggling. A paw reaches back, grasping through the air for the lizard, and pulling his scaly hand towards her. She holds his fingers, and pulls his claws over her head, leaving his fingers to dangle over her forehead. "I like y'/color/, mate. 'Ow does this look on me, eh?" She asks the fox, still keeping the lizard's arm hostage. "Me /fur/? WELL in m'tribe, y'get y'firs' tattoos on th' day of y'birthday on y'fourth season..." Suddenly, she stops, dead in her tracks. "I....I..." A look of great suspicion falls over her, and she glares from the fox to the lizard, her muzzle slowly curling into a snarl. Happy go lucky as she may be, the otter looks /genuinely/ terrifying - like something rabid; savage canines bared. But it's only there for a second. "I WANT T'GO SWIMMIN'!" All at once, there's a grin and she wrenches loose of the fox's grip as if it were nothing, and /dashes/ down the alleyway - whooping and hollering in glee as she goes. She's going to go swimming.

If the vixen's thoughts could be translated into words, they would most certainly not be PG at the moment. Suffice to say they were filled with much stabbing and murdering. Crossfang was thinking about where to plant her dagger, the chest, belly, or back...

And then the otter barrels past her, nearly knocking her down. "Blast it Rsk don't just stand there! Get after her!" The fox takes a step forward but stops as the lizard grabs her by the tail. "Rsk! What are you-" She sees the stern, half pleading look in his eyes and sighs, "Fffffiiine. We can murder her later...but don't think I won’t!" The lizard sighs in relief as the two thieves wander off on their own.