~ Dancing in the Streets ~
Characters:
Lutea, The Taggerung
Castus, a traveling warrior
Rioko, a bouncer
Setting:
Halyard Village: West Square(#93069RJA)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Halyard Village ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Surrounded on most sides by short, squat buildings, none any higher than two
levels, the main square of this small, sea-side village is covered in a fine
layer of dirt, which mostly covers the old cobble stone beneath. Many of the
buildings lining the square are homes, though some are places of business -
and, of course, there are the obligatory pubs. However, pubs are not the only
staple of a small village, especially not this one. Scattered here and there
upon sidewalks and in front of stores, various fishing nets and traps lie
about, most considerably worse for wear. It's obviously a fishing village.
Beyond that, a dirt road runs north and south from the square, with a small
scattering of homes, and behind these, a backdrop of trees. Meanwhile, beyond
the trees lies the shore.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Festival has been in full swing for a few hours, and that can really only mean one thing: Lutea is drunk. The otter stands atop a stack of crates, her arms thrown around the shoulders of an equally-inebriated pair of beasts (a ferret and a young buck), singing raucously. They have a small crowd gathered, stomping rowdily in time to their drunken anthem, and piping in when they hit the chorus. "Aaaaand there's no-thin' left f'this old lad heeeeere -" Lutea sings, pausing with a grin on her face. In one voice, the crowd joins in: "SO I'LL JUST 'AVE ANOTHAH BEER!"
"HOLD IT!" a voice calls out from across the street. Castus is standing on another stack of crates, flask in hand, which he quickly finishes off with a guzzle. "I put forward that /your/ drunken revel," he says, pointing at Lutea, "is second-rate! That's right! And there is /twice/ as much fun to be had on /my/ side of the street!" He kicks a barrel over and lands it upright, after which he cracks the top open, revealing a full cask of ale. "I bet this whole barrel and the /shirt off my back/ that I can sing a better song," he says with a confident flick of his tail.
Lutea blinks, and then her muzzle splits into a grin. "Alrigh', mate." She calls across the street. "Verse f'verse?" She shrugs the beasts out from under her arms and claps her paws together. Since she literally /has/ nothing but the shirt (vest) on her back, the otter has to spend a moment thinking about what to bet. She, finally, just decides to go for the most accessible - she works in a kitchen, after all. "Next meal at the Tavern is on me." She nods, and opens her paws. "Ready when y'are!"
"HA-hem," Castus clears his throat, plucking up a mug and filling it from another cask. He starts to stomp to get the crowd moving to the beat, his entire body swaying sinuously, while his tail flicks like a nervous snake behind him. He belts out, "Let it now be taught if a boy is as he ought, alleluia! the beer will sing: res miranda! WONDERFUL THING! Drink if there's beer in your jar - it's far to the sun from the stars! Drink it well, drink it deep, out the barrel flows the beer: semper clara! ALWAYS CLEAR!" He takes out another mug and pours his drink from one to the other in an impressively long, unbroken stream, holding his arms fully apart as he grins behind the amber waterfall.
"Alleluia!" A member of crowd shouts. Food, beer, and drunken singing? It should be no surprise that Rioko is here. Her weapons are absent, replaced by a bottle of wine and fried food in the other. Her stomach swells from a combination of both under her V shaped vest. "Bring on the tunes yo!"
There is a general influx of shouting and hollering in the streets, and Lutea has to struggle for order. She claps her paws for the squirrel, whistling and hooting along with the crowd, and takes a swig from her own flask - which is produced from a pocket of her vest. "Merry tune, mate." She takes a deep breath, and kicks a new beat into her crate - it starts slow, but the tempo picks up with each line, ending in a tumult of shouting, pounding and clapping. "Oh, once upon a midnight drear, I lost th'one I held quite dear, if only I had held her neeeeeeeear - my mate would not 'ave spilled m'beer! Across the floor an' down th'hall, I see it go and start to bawl, there's just one thing a lass can't taaaaask - an' that's when someone drops 'er flask!" Oh! She knows that fox! As the otter's verse ends, she raises a paw towards the portly vixen, swaying slightly.
Castus doesn't stop for anything, except maybe to have a drink while Lutea sings. He waves off the ottermaid as if to dismiss her stanza, and sings. "Drink your beer and drink it well, I'll drink my own in parallel! But take great care, don't leave your beer near the fire rail - fit corrupta! IT WILL STALE!" He tosses his cup into the air and flips onto a rope between two tents, standing even /higher/ than Lutea now as he catches his cup when he lands. "If the lords throw a haughty party, let's also be noisy and hearty: to your good health! Bless the neighbor with much to eat. Carne sumpta! TAKE UP THE MEAT!" He flips back off the rope onto the crates and kicks up a few /more/ cups, juggling them and dripping beer as he does - and then kicks a half-full one Lutea's way. Catch!
Shouts echo through out the crowd and they begin to dance to the beat of the words and those who actually have an instrument to play...be it an actuall instrument or just beating on an empty barrel. The portly grey fox dances like she is some tribal vixen, throwing her arms in the air and swinging her hips and tail.
She makes her way slowly over to the otter. "Lutea! Don't let that squirrel beat ya!" is about all the rhyming the fox is allowed to do under this much ale.
She throws her paws into the air, "MEAT!"
The otter may not be the acrobat that the squirrel is - but she can catch a cup. She snatches it from the air and raises it in a toast to the squirrel before draining it. One finger through the handle, she twirls the empty mug as she picks up the revelry. "SO, m'flask is drained an' m'heart is strained, I turned into a yeller - But let be said, that just then - m'mate opened up the cellar! OH shelves of ale, and tuns'a rum, the wine n'er did flow harder - we drank th'night, an' ne'r did fight - we emptied out the larder!" She leaps from her barrel to join the beasts in the street, dancing and spinning among them. She grasps the fox's paw to give her a twirl, and when she releases allows the momentum to carry her towards the squirrel. "Can y'tell me the moral of the story, mate?" She calls up to him, holding her flask aloft in her other paw. She turns to face the crowd, paws open. "Can YOU tell me the moral of the story?!" There is an indiscriminate shouting of answers, before she decides to continue. She picks up the melody again, linking arms with a mouse - who links his arm with the beast next to him and so on. She's forming a drunken army! "The moral of the story - a spill means not t'ache - because y'can forgive a puddleeeeeeeee...When y'drownin' in a lake!" She spins past the squirrel and tosses her flask towards him. Sharing is caring, after all!
Castus grins as he catches the flask, getting some beer in his hair, but drinking the rest of it anyway. "As for the innkeeper, sweet madonna, who treats all her guests with regal honor, naught strike her blind!" He jumps onto his stack of crates once again, cheering on Lutea as she goes by. "Good drink and food most gen'rously, hec perdicta; more worthy than women before her is she!" He jumps down to street level and beckons her over. "Now let us drink to the queen, in pints and quarts, let's not be mean. Our cask won't run dry! Al through the night it's full of mirth..." He dunks his mug in again and offers to cross arms with the otter and drink. "Puerpera! And full mugs!" And drink he does, till the entire jar is empty. "THE END."
Round and round the fox goes, spinning like a top as she moves towards Castus. She goes to wrap her arm around his shoulder, "MEAT!" She shouts again before sliding onto her rear end, giggling all the way down. "Sorry Lutea, the tides have changed it seems..." Around them beasts make a general ruckus as they dance, drink, and feast.
By this point, the street is a roiling mass of dancing, drunken revelry. The otter grins wide, throwing back her head in a raucous bark of laughter as she hooks her arm through the squirrel's and chugs what's left of...whatever alcohol just wound up in her paw. She claps him on the back and throws an arm around his shoulders, holding the empty mug high. "NOW WHO WANTS T'BUY US DRINKS?!" Lutea shouts to the cheering masses. "And where'd tha' beautiful charmer of a fox get to? RioooOOooo - Theeeeere she is!" The square has descended into a mass of dancing - several different instruments play several different tunes, but no one seems to care. Anyone will dance to anything at this point. Offering her free paw down to help the fox up, the tattooed otter laughs again. "Lookit what we did, mate!" There is pride in the otter's voice as she looks upon the chaos that they have birthed...It's just...It's so beautiful.
