INCONCEIVABLE!! (An Open, Bawdry RP!)

“Bitholaman Harcort Fnog, how do you plead?”

The shrew stood on his footpaws and gestured absent-mindedly with both paws, skewering and contorting his expressions. “Well…, y’see there, Your Judgeship…”

“Your Honor,” the judge interrupted.

“Let me assure you, mate, this ain’t my honor,” Bith said. The galley in the benches behind the perpetrators erupted in laughter. The elderly squirrel presiding over the court slapped his gavel on its base and frowned at Bith.

“I’ll take that as ‘guilty,’” the judge said.

“Most certainly not,” Bith said, clutching the lapels of his cloak and smiling at his attorney.

“Fates and mercy,” the lawyer defending Bith moaned, burying his head in a mound of parchments.

“Si’doan!” the badger officer barked to Bith, prodding at Bith with a long stick. The shrew retreated to his chair and gulped audibly.

“So noted,” the judge continued, poking at the tiny spectacles balanced on his snout. “And as for you, Shulacksonny Fenton Wtetta…how do you plead?”

The wiry otter stood up from his chair on the other side of the defense lawyer. “Here’s how I see it,” Shula started, widening his arms like a wrestler preparing for a match. “So, we were there by the pier, but we weren’t plannin’ on stealin’ nothin’—”

“Guilty!” the judge cried out, slamming his gavel again. Shula fell to his seat in dejection.

“That’s cruel an’ mean, sir,” he said, his face drooping in sadness.

“Watch yer mouth, Shula,” Bith shot. “We’re in court, see.”

“Quiet!” the badger called.

“Don’t seem like you brought your manners, though, Bith.”

“I’ll have you know I’m condensifying myself a literical defense, which I’ll oratify m’self.” Bith narrowed his eyes at Shula.

“Order,” the judge said.

“You’re makin’ up words again, Bith,” Shula smiled, folding his arms across his chest. “Little cheeker.”

“I am not!” Bith cried, leaping to his footpaws. “An’ who are you callin’ ‘little’?!”

“That’s enough!” the judge shouted, standing on his own footpaws. “You two are a disgrace to our populace, and your wanton acts of violence and general villainy are plainly documented.”

“Here, now,” Bith argued. He was silenced by another poke from the badger.

The weasel attorney assigned to defend Bith and Shula wobbled to his footpaws, sweating from every pore. “Y-y-y-your hon-hon-honor,” he stammered. “I’d like t-t-t-to submit a plea of insan-san-san-sanity on behalf of my—”

“Denied,” the judge said.

“Then I formally submit a p-plea of unconscionable ignorance—”

“Denied.”

“Lost-childhood syndrome—”

“Denied.”

“Eager Beaver Disease—”

“Denied.”

“It weren’t us, Judge,” Bith added.

Shula leaned towards Bith. “But we were there, Bith.”

The attorney sighed and buried his face in his paws. “I resign, your honor.”

The judge straightened himself and smirked at Bith and Shula as he unrolled a long parchment. “Bitholaman Harcort Fnog, Shulacksonny Fenton Wtetta, I hereby find you both guilty for the following crimes: frequently absenting yourself from paid commissionary work; wandering from place to place; attempting to wander; lying and idleness; attempting to be idle; general lewdness; attempting to be lewd; bad behavior; accusations of extortion; attempting to commit extortion; slandering, nagging and gossiping; attempting to slander, nag and gossip; delivering false dinner invitations; treason; sedition; arson; blasphemy; witchcraft; perjury; attempting to commit perjury; cheating; forgery; coin clipping; dice cogging; conjuring; fortune-telling; holding to devilish opinions; and drunkenness.”

“We’ve been busy,” Bith smiled to Shula.

“Aye, and what times!” Shula smiled back.

“I sentence you both to be hanged until dead tomorrow morning. Hearing adjourned!” The judge slapped his gavel for a final time, and the galley erupted in heated cries of support and outrage.

“You think we’ll have time to have a sugar pint before they hang us?” Shula asked Bith.

“I doubt it,” Bith said, allowing his paws to be pulled behind his back by a guard and bound.

“I guess there’s always next week, then,” Shula said, having his own paws bound.

The two were led to their prison cells and locked within.

Five hours later, they were swimming down the river Moss.

They swam to shore and trekked across the countryside to their favorite retreat: a pub/hovel called the Doan Un Yer Lucke, several leagues from the shady community of Regrettable Run.

“So what now?” Shula asked, his teeth rattling as he shivered into the rawhide blanket he wrapped around himself. The two had found a small table near the roaring fireplace.

“We fill our bellies an’ knock back a few,” Bith said, winking beneath his own blanket. “An’ then we’ll find us some decentorous work to engagement.”

Shula’s eyes widened, then narrowed, before he shook his head and finished off his glass. “Whatever you say, Bithy.”

Not being in the circus anymore, KayLee began wondering place to place as she would have done if the circus wasn’t disbanded.
Not having any money, she had agreed to do a show of acrobatics and dance in the Doan Un Yer Lucke Pub to earn a place to stay for a little while and receive a hot meal.
The shrew and otter had entered the pub moments after the first part of her show had ended.

Still wearing her dance performing out fit, her coin skirt jingled as she walked over and sat at a table close to the shrew and otter with a plate of a hot meal and a drink. She gave a light sigh as she took a break to eat before the second part of her show.
The squirrel-maid smiled, shaking her head a little as she began to eat, over hearing them, slightly giggling a little at them.

Izzy had sidled in just a moment before Bith and Shula, and was still in the process of eying the little inn's clientele, and all available opportunities for a spot of pickpocketing, when they bustled past an made for the fire. She wasn't looking for anything specific tonight, but she wasn't going to let a nice fat purse pass her up, either.

She was running a bit thin, after all. She hadn't had a commission in a while, not after that whole Cyrana incident on the western edge of the river. She was back in more or less familiar territory, and she was happy to see that the Lucke hadn't changed a bit. Tomorrow, she would see if  someone needed something stolen. And in Regrettable Row, there was always someone who wanted something stolen.

Her eyes were drawn towards the wet beasts who had come in just after her. They weren't any she's seen before, and since the night was still young (or young enough that everyone was watching their valuables closely still) she decided that she could sit near by and maybe eavesdrop a little. Besides, they were by the fire, and it was chilly out.

With a grin, she slid around and through the tables, ordered a sugar pint and bowl of stew from the old, gruff fox behind the bar– he glared in recognition and she gave him a cheeky curtsy in return-- and after getting both, she went on to her seat. A pretty little squirrel maid in a costume was sitting by the fire too, on the other side of the pair. Izzy set the bowl and tankard on the table first, and then pulled the chair closest to the otter and shrew out, sat down, and began to eat and eavesdrop. She also made a note that if given the chance, she should pinch the shrew's hat. She liked it rather a bit, and it would prove useful if she needed a quick disguise.

The crew of the The Dark Deceit had had seen a few good days that week. A few fat merchant ships had been foolish enough to wander into the path of the blood thirty rouges. After that, most of the crew headed to shore to spend their wealth on whatever they pleased. A few unlucky beasts had to stay behind and guard the ship, but they would get their chance.

The Doan Un Yer Lucke was a favorite of Captain Arvin and his cutthroat shipmates. The runty fox was currently sitting at one of the tables situated in the pub along with his first mate, Falsten, and the ship's cook, Illia. The pirates had been watching KayLee's performance with interest. Arvin took particular interest to the little squirrel.

"She's a pretty one ain't she," Arvin asked his companions as he indicated KayLee, "I'm go'in t' talk to 'er." Normally Falsten would have advised against such an action, but at the moment he was to intoxicated to care.

"She isn't that good look'n," Illia said with a roll of her eyes.

"Aye, not nearly as pretty as you m' dear," the drunk Falsten proclaimed as he put his arm around the cook.

"Not now Falsten, off o' me yeah big lump," Illia gave the male ermine a light shove. Arvin ignored his two minions and continued to stare at KayLee as if daydreaming. The little fox wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to talk to the squirrel maid, but he had failed at so many things before he was afraid to try.

After a few more gulps of rum, Arvin pulled together what little courage he had. He stood and took the few shaky strides it took to get him to the table where KayLee sat. "Um, hello their miss… I um... thought..." Arvin addressed KayLee in halting tones, "well, I enjoyed your performance." There was more the fox meant to say, but he would wait till he had at least introduced himself.

“Seems like the place has picked up a bit,” Shula said, glancing about the pub. The otter had finally warmed his bones and was huddled over his half of the small round table, taking note of the creatures closest to him and his partner, Bith. The old fox behind the bar—what was his name? Bognath? Hurgand?—nodded to the pretty squirrel maid in the coined skirt. She was finishing up a quick meal and was obviously part of the live entertainment. Shula eagerly anticipated her show; anything could be better than the obtuse rat plucking out the old-timey song ‘Ain’t That Love, Er Izzit Gutrot?’ on the rack-shambled clavier in the corner. Shula noticed the squirrel maid had seemed to chuckle at a few of his comments to Bith, and that made the otter blush. Maybe she crushed on him a little…?

“Aye, seems busier, but they’re my kind’a vermin,” Bith said, twisting a smarmy grin across his face. He nodded to the group of seafarers entering the pub. “Looks like blockaders…maybe corsairs, even!” The shrew glanced towards the wood mouse seated near them and balked. “Dunno ‘bout her, but I’d wager she’s got a mean streak in ‘er!”

Shula sighed and rested his chin on both paws as he gawked at KayLee. “I don’t think she’s mean…I think she’s pretty.”

Bith blinked as he stared again at Izzy. “Hmm,” he grumbled, rubbing at his chin as he turned his attention back to his empty glass. “Time for a refillination, and perhaps that meal we were waiting for.” The shrew removed the damp blanket and clapped his paws, feeling the warmth returning to his limbs.

“I’m gonna do it!” Shula exclaimed, rising to his footpaws.

“Not now, yer ain’t,” Bith said over his shoulder as he approached the bar. He rapped his paw on the wood counter and smiled to the elderly fox. “Humphrey, old mate!”

“It’s Horace, you blighter!” The grey fox threw a cupful of dishwater at Bith, who dodged it expertly and raised his hat in salute.

“A thousand apologetics, dear foxy,” Bith said, folding his paws. “I was hopin’ to order some of your famous stew for myself and my partner.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Horace mumbled, nodding to Bith as the shrew saluted again and returned to his table. Shula had stepped around his chair and had begun walking towards the table KayLee occupied when the fox captain swooped down in front of him and began a casual conversation with her. Shula’s expression soured, and he bared his teeth as he rolled up a sleeve on his jacket.

“Easy there, Shula,” Bith said, pushing the otter back towards the table with both paws. Shula stuck out his chest, and Bith found himself sliding his footpaws on the floor without moving Shula. He looked up and saw a face ready to hurt somebeast. “He ain’t worth any of your paw-cuffery.”

“I’ll show him!” Shula growled, snorting. “I’ll…I’ll knock his backside clear around to his front-side!”

“I’m sure you would,” Bith said, turning around and pushing against the otter with his back. “But we both know you wouldn’t.”

“Say wot?” Shula glanced down and smirked at Bith’s poor display of strength. “What’cha doin’ down there, little fellow?”

“Little?!” Bith straightened up and pointed a digit towards Shula’s face. “Hear now: you cut out all of those unnecessissaitin’ remarkables towards my height an’ all!”

“Pshaw!” Shula said, grabbing Bith under his arms and lifting him into a chair like a mother would a dibbun. “You’re just a cuddly ol’ bumble at heart, and you know it.”

“I oughta cut yer throat,” Bith mumbled.

“Yeah, you couldn’t cut a piece of cheese,” Shula retorted, making an ugly face at Bith. Bith returned an equally ugly face, and the two grimaced at each other, eyes shut.

“Such faces only a blind grandmarm could love.”

Bith opened his eyes and clapped the approaching weasel on his arm. “Mako, you ol’ drain-clog! What brings you to Regrettable Row?”

“Ah, the usual,” the weasel said, his yellow eyes darting to and fro as he scanned the faces of the pub patrons. “Dodgin’ Long Patrols and liftin’ skirts.”

“As usual!” Bith and Shula cried in unison. The three fell back into their chairs, wiping tears from their eyes as they bellowed with laughter. After a moment’s respite, Mako leaned forwards, with Bith and Shula following suit.

“Actually, I’m glad you’re here,” Mako whispered. “I thought you’d be pushin’ up dandelions by now.”

“Aaaah,” Bith waved him off, snickering. “What’s it to yer?”

“Bit of a snit, actually,” Mako said. “I’ve got somethin’ I need to hide…somethin’ valuable.”

“Gold, is it?” Shula asked, his eyes watering at the thought.

“Better,” Mako winked, hoisting a heavy haversack onto the table. “Now, you boys hold on to this, and get it to MacLaron up in Halster, and I’ll see you both get a bag of gold each.”

“A bag of gold each?!” Shula cried, clamping a paw over his mouth as Bith started towards him with a raised paw.

“You crummy—” he started, staring at the interested eyes that turned towards their table.

KayLee was just about done her meal when the fox came up to her and started talking. She had recognized the pirate from her performance she had done not too long ago. She had taken a mental note on who was watching her and who seemed to enjoy watching the performance.
The performance that she had done was for the roof and meal. The second part of her performance was more personal to the ones who took a liking to her so that perhaps she could get a little money while here….The captain was one.
She could tell he was both a bit nervous and a bit drunk. She smiled at him, however. "Well, I'm glad you enjoyed the show. Perhaps I could give you and your mates one...For a price of course" She said, looking up at him as she sat. "...I'm KayLee....and you are?" She asked.

She watched Shula and Bith from the corner of her eye as she spoke with Arvin. Those two were...odd to say the least. She could feel at least one of them watching her. They weren't around to see her first performance so she had no idea if they were interested in her dance enough for a private performance...But then again, they were interested in her. Perhaps she could get some money from them as well as the captain.
She watched as another figure started to talk to them, though couldn't make out what they were saying as she was preoccupied with her own conversation.

Oh, pirates. Izzy grinned at the stunted fox as he staggered over to the pretty little squirrel in her shiny, jingly costume–there were a good many blokes watching her, Izzy had noted, and though she was happy that the attention was off of herself, she was just a tiny bit jealous that she wasn't getting looks, too-- and sipped at her sugar pint. It wouldn't do to gulp it and get tipsy. Not if there were pirates about. Drunk pirates at that, and they were the most unpredictable lot she (or her parents) had ever managed to come across. Granted, they didn't look that tough, espeicially with how shy and shockingly humble the fox looked, talking to the little pretty miss over there.

The dish water being thrown in her general direction distracted her, and she grumbled out an annoyed, "Watch yer aim, Horace, ya nearly seasoned my stew with dishwater!"

Ofcourse, if he heard her, he ignored her to an extent. That hadn't changed, not in all the time she (and her parents before her) had been seeking a night's refuge or a hot meal under this particularly grimy roof.

She was pulled away from glaring in his direction when the otter she was eavesdropping on stood up, intent to beat the stuffing out of the fox. Ah, to be the cause of a pubscuffle. It was fun, and it always was a wonderful distraction for pocket picking and purse pinching. With a crooked, quick grin, she turned around, unabashedly watching.

Not a punch was thrown, though, and Izzy turned back around, slightly disappointed. She had been getting her hopes up. She went back to her sugar pint, wondering if a nip of something stronger would make the night a more eventful (or at least tolerable one) when she heard a familiar voice and nearly chocked on her drink.

Mako. That bloody weasel. She whipped around, saw that it indeed was him, and didn't know whether to laugh or chuck her empty tankard at his head. He was 'an old friend of the family'. Which meant, of course, he'd worked with Mum and Da before they got caught. One of their last big hiests, they had worked with him. And she had worked with him twice after that. They had also worked against him on a few occasions, snatching a certain item or client out from under his claws. Not that he didn't reciprocate. That greasy little blighter had cost them the Da Burgess job, back in Staffordshire.

After a long moment of leaning back in her chair, listening, Izzy simply couldn't take it anymore, and twisted around in her chair and folded her forearms on it's back. With a lazy grin, not really caring that shewas intterupting what looked like an important conversation (she knew it was, she had excellent hearing) she cleared her throat and snapped her napkin at the back of her old accomplice's head. "So, that's how ya go an treat ol' friends, is it? I know yer Mam taught ya better, Mako, ya neat liddle coin-snatcher, ya." She waited for a moment, before letting her cheek grin widen. "Or maybe yer jus' gittin old an' didn' see me?"

Having been in this pub before Rorgus knew what to expect. Just as always,it was full of (mostly) drunk beasts. He almost enjoyed pubs, except for the smell. After a while he got used to it.
He glanced around to see if there were any beasts he recognized. He nodded at Horace,
" I'll take a pint, and some stew." He said." He went over to a table near the fire and sat down. He glanced up and saw a shrew and an otter. Sitting at the same table was Kaylee! He waved at her smiling. She had her skirt on so he presumed she was performing, he liked to watch her perform so he decided to stay a while. He saw a fox going over to her. He heard him stuttering as he tried to talk to her. He couldn't help grinning, she would find some way to get some money out of him. The otter stood up looking a little red in the face, he was about to give the fox a good punch when the shrew stood up and interfered. He caught a name then, Shula. He presumed that it was the otters name.

His gaze wandered over to a mouse, he could tell by the way she was sitting that she was eavesdropping on the shrew and the otter. He chuckled to himself know what they were in for if she was taking interest in them.
Hi food and drink came then, he flipped a coin to Horace and took his tankard taking a long draft.

After a while a weasel came in. He looked around then recognizing somebeast he hurried over to the table where Shula and the shrew sat. Rorgus could almost put a name to that weasel. He had seen him around somewhere…..but where? He couldn't think of who it was. The mouse turned in her chair and looked at the weasel.

"So, that's how ya go an treat ol' friends, is it? I know yer Mam taught ya better, Mako, ya neat liddle coin-snatcher, ya." She waited for a moment, before letting her cheek grin widen. "Or maybe yer jus' gittin old an' didn' see me?"

That was it! It was Mako! He had heard of Mako, he had met him once before too. If he remembered right it was on the coast, he was with a vermin ship….. he couldn't remember fully but he knew it was Mako alright. He was a dangerous one to deal with. If he had something with those to they might need and eye kept on them.

"Me name's Captain Arvin Cindertale, I've got me own ship ya' see," Arvin answered KayLee's question with not a little pride, "I've got plenty o' gold to pay yah with, my profession is a well pay'in one!" To back up his words he pulled a coin pouch from his belt and strewed the shiny golden coins across the table in front of KayLee. The little fox may have been nervous to begin with, but now his ego was inflating like a hot air balloon.

"Even if I were to lose all a that I wouldn't mind a bit! Got ol' chest full back on m' ship," Arvin continued proudly, "per'aps you would like tah take a look at 'er, she is beauty all right, just like you miss." The fox tried to give a gentlemanly bow, but nearly tripped on his overly large boots. He quickly regained his footing, blushing in embarrassment of his clumsiness.

Meanwhile, Falsten had only gotten drunker. After finishing what seemed like countless mugs of rum, he stood up on the table and started to sing a highlander's war tune. Unfortunately for him, being drunk is not at all good for keeping your balance. With a large crash he came tumbling down into a nearby table of a vermin group, sending their food and drinks everywhere.

The vermin were quick to pick a fight, and so was the drunken ermine. He drew his cutlass and hatchet and charged headlong into their group, still singing like a madbeast. Swords clashed and tables were knocked aside as the battle raged. Several other beasts also caught in the maelstrom decided to join in.

Arvin watched the brawl from the corner of his eye, knowing that he would probably be looked to in stopping the fight. He didn't like the idea of trying to reason with a drunken Falsten. The ermine was a lot bigger and stronger than him. “Um, never mind me crew, they ar’ good beasts in a pinch, but they get a bit wild,” Arvin tried to explain to KayLee, “I just wish it weren’t Falsten…” Arvin mumbled the last bit to himself.

“I’ve got a right mind’ta replaceorate yer head with a squash,” Bith hissed as he swung a paw at Shula. “Now keep yer mouth shut and let me do the talkin’.” The shrew nodded to Mako and hunched forwards. “Please continuate.”

Mako sniffed as he watched the pub patrons return to their own conversations and meals. “Like I said,” he mumbled, “you get this to Halster an’ put it in MacLaron’s paws, an’ you’re as good as rich.”

“So says you,” Bith said, folding his arms as he leaned back in his chair. “We’ve swam through fire for you afores, Mako—what says you’re not gonna leave us empty-pawed and surroundified by armed, angry hares?”

“Fair enough,” Mako said, pulling the haversack away and hiding it beneath the table. “You blokes don’t want the job? I’ll find a few friends around ‘ere that wouldn’t mind a bulging wallet’r two.”

As if on cue, the wood mouse sitting behind them turned her chair around and addressed the table. “So, that’s how ya go an treat ol’ friends, is it?” she said. “I know yer Mam taught ya better, Mako, ya neat liddle coin-snatcher, ya.” She waited for a moment, before letting her cheek grin widen. “Or maybe yer jus’ gittin old an’ didn’ see me?”

Mako spun in his own chair, plastering an equally-large grin across his face. “Why, bless me soggy bottoms…if it ain’t ol’ Isobel ‘erself! How you gettin’ along, darlin’?”

Before Izzy had a chance to reply, Bith reached across the table with both paws and jerked Mako towards the center. “Curse yer knocked knees, Mako! We’ll do it!”

“We will?!” Shula asked, sputtering into his sugar pint and spitting it across the table. “‘ang on, we don’t even—”

“Silence it, you.” Bith frowned at Shula, and the otter knew better than to talk back to the shrew when he spoke in that tone.

“Ah, I see,” Mako said, slapping Bith’s paws free from his overcoat. He waved over his shoulder. “Catch up wi’ you in a tic, Izzy ol’ gel.” He pulled the sack up onto the table and winked to Bith. “Delivery in four days, hear? Or MacLaron might send Wizzick after you.”

“Wizzick…!” Shula gasped.

At the mention of the name, every sound in the pub died. Shula gulped and folded his paws in prayerful contrition. “Oh blessed Martin, who saves us all…” he started.

“Enough a’that!” Bith chided, slapping Shula across the shoulder and bringing him back to attention. The shrew narrowed his eyes and nodded to Mako. “Four days. We’ll get it there.”

“Good!” Mako said. “Now, pay for my drink, and we’re done.” He rose to his footpaws, saluted, and dropped into a chair next to Izzy before the duo could complain.

“Rotten conker,” Bith growled, grabbing Mako’s glass and finishing the last of its contents. “I’ll bet he’s got room an’ board waitin’ for us to pay for him, too…ungratefulication!”

“Indeed,” Shula piped up, pouting his lips and nodding.

Bith frowned at the otter and shook his head. “That’s enough out’a you,” he said. “Now we should—”

A drunken ermine crashed into a table full of angry—and easily provoked—assorted vermin, sending a torrent of food and drink cascading through the air. The resulting tumult of breaking dishware and splattering stew mixed with the sounds of weapons being drawn and curses being muttered. The ermine broke into song and charged the group, knocking them flat. Other creatures at adjacent tables stood to their footpaws and joined the melee, eager to slap another beast across the mouth or belt a stranger in the snout. Bith grabbed Shula with one paw and the haversack with the other.

“Quick, into the latrine! We’ll see what we picked up for cargo!” he shouted.

“Aw, not even time for one fight?” Shula whined.

“Afterwards!” Bith shouted, prodding the otter towards the lavatory tucked in the corner of the pub, amid a quickly-escalating ruckus.

Smiling, KayLee waved back at Rorgus who had waved to her, then looked at Arvin to continue their conversation. She nodded at him. If he was indeed a captain, then he must be telling the truth of how much money he did have, here and on his ship. She however was undecided as to if she should go with him on his ship. After all, she was a lady, and he technically was a stranger. She had no idea what he does on his ship and she wasn’t about to be lead into something that she couldn’t get out of and taken advantage of.
“…Well for that bag of gold there, I’ll give ya, and perhaps your mates, a show…But then I have to get back to work.” She said glancing up at his mates at the other table, one of which appeared to be getting up on the table, biting her lip as the conversation next to them mentioned the name ‘Wizzick’
She was about to lean over and say something to them, but by the time she had opened her mouth, Falsten had drunkenly fallen off the table and in doing so, started a fight with some others. She slightly shook her head at the beginning of the fight, watching Bith and Shula run for the latrine, holding something as they ran.

“Hold on…I’ll cool everyone down…Hopefully” The squirrel-maid said to Arvin. With that she bended down to pick up her tambourine and started to quickly beat the drum part of the instrument, matching the quick pace of the fight. She stepped up on the chair she was sitting on, then up on the table, slowing down on the beating of the drum as more and more of the – mostly – drunk beasts involved in the fight stopped to turn and watch. She smiled, looking down at Arvin with a light wink.
Now with most watching, she used the bell part of the tambourine and the coins of her skirt to make some type of music she could dance to.
Hopping off the table, danced around the pub, her body swaying to the music her shirt and her tambourine were making. Dancing back to Arvin, she set the tambourine down on the table, her coin skirt now the only thing making music so her hips were continually moving. Taking a scarf, she danced in front of him, wrapping the scarf around his neck she pulled him close to him. “I want to dance on your body, the way I shake it on stage” She said to him, with a giggle then released him to pick up her tambourine and continue dancing.
Once she figured the crowd were calm enough to go about their business without a fight she stopped, where she started, by Arvin. “..How’s that?”

( ooc – yes…I got that from a song…But it work 😛 )

Rorgus finished off his stew and glugged the rest of his ale. Just out of the corner of his eye Rorgus was watching Shula and the shrew converse with the weasel. He was getting suspicious when he saw a bag come onto the table. It was just then that the ermine crashed into the table of several vermin. Inevitably there was a fight, he should have expected something like that. Then in the middle of the fight the otter Shula and the shrew got up from the table and went into the lavatory.

Rorgus was across the room so he had to get through the fight to follow them. As he was picking his way through the fighting beasts one of them threw a punch at him. Of course he dodged and sent the fox flying with an upper cut. He dealt a few more blows on his way out, he would have licked to stay a little longer but he had to find those two. He lounged around waiting for them to come out of the lavatory. wondering what they were doing.

Izzy leaned back in her chair, the lazy grin on her face belying the interest she had in that bag that he'd handed over to the shrew and the otter. She didn't even react to the fight that exploded around them, except to reach up lazily and pull a small leather purse off of a drunken, staggering patron's belt as he wandered towards the door, nursing a swelling jaw. He wasn't going to miss it tonight. The purse was weighed in the palm of her hand, then was carefully tucked into a pocket of her skirt.

"Mako, ya sly little demon you, what're ya up ta now, huh?" She waved her hand back over her shoulder, towards the loo she was sure the pair had gone. "Ya wanna tell me what's in th' bag? Or do I gotta follow 'em an find out fo' myself?

OOC: It would be cool to finish this! I think it's Vik's turn to post. Suppose you could manage it Vik?

OOC: I think Frost was kind of important, but we can try going on without him.

hmm…Think Mucha is gone as well.
I suppose Rorgus can take whatever it was that Frost's characters had when he followed them to the bathroom.
We'll have to re-work the plot a little.

ooc: Yeep! Don't kick me into the ditch just yet! I think I still have some life in me…let me see if I can't pull together a good post here soon, and we'll get this story back up and going again. Okay?

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