Field Trip

Stubb, Carn, Soclose, Amos, Dangeon, Erebos, Marandus

Location: Marshank

(Sometimes Club) — Feb. 17, 2012

The bite of the cold has only sharpened with the passage of another week, and the wind seems to have scarfed up whatever remnants of drink that remained in the fortress. So it's no surprise that the morning finds Stubb boiling water in a pan, beneath a strip of dirty fabric that he occasionally wrings out into a nearby jar. Though his fur has come in thick, he shivers when the outside air pokes into the kitchen through the clot of fabric that now stands where the shattered window was before.

Carn is sitting in a far corner, wrapped in his plaid kilt. He's been dozing on and off, but is awake to watch Stubb's efforts at getting water.

Soclose shuffles in through the longhouse doorway. Yes, the osprey's feathers look a bit worn and ragged about the edges and it appears that he has been dusty and a bit muddied, but his voice sounds unchanged as he croons, "Hello! Hello! It is I, Soclose reporting!"

Stubb half turns his head to address Soclose over his shoulder. "Ay? And what moight you 'ave to repor'?" His voice is raw, tinged with irritation, or dehydration, or probably both.

Carn turns to look at Soclose quietly. He dosen't seem quite as energetic as usual. Maybe he's tired, or sick, or, like Soclose, begginning to show signs of wear from his time spent here.

"That he's here of course, and making sure everyone knows it. Ain't that right birdy?" Amos grins as he enters in after Soclose, huffing as he looks about the kitchen, "Sorry lot you look like, especially you ol' Stubb." He shakes his head.

At this point, Dangeon enters the kitchen. Her ears are wilted and she looks like she either just woke up or has been awake for days. ".. 's cuz we're dying, Bosscat." She mutters in response to Amos as she seeks a place to sit. As to why they're dying, it's clear "Lack o' booze 's not bally healthy."

"Indeed that is so," croons the osprey to Amos. "Having been gone for so long, and then-back again. Isn't it best to say hello?" He turns back to remark to the others, "I have been far-travelling to visit my home, in preparation for the move." He shuffles over to eye the curtains as they flap, "Ah-h! So dark this place is!"

"Ah. 'ello, den," Stubb grumbles. He gingerly grabs the edges of the cloth, then drapes the saturated thing over the jar, letting it cool for a moment before he twists it, liberating a gentle rivulet of murky grey water into the tiny reservoir. "An' good mornin' to tha rest a ya. Dough there ain' nuffin' too good about it, if you ask me. Surproised to see you so chipper, ma'e," he says, with an eye toward Amos.

Carn responds by getting up, yawnig and stretching a few times, wrapping the kilt around his shoulder, and walking over to watch Stubb's progress with crossed arms.

Amos rolls his eyes at the hare, "Ain't'cha being a bit dramatic then eh Dang? We ain't dying just because we've run out of booze, and if you must know my weasel friend, " Amos gives Dangeon a pat on the shoulder since they're both near the doorway and turns to address Stubb, "I was out and about, getting a bit of air. Does wonders for one's constitution you know! Ain't no wonder the bird is always so chipper!" Amos grins.

"Indeed," croons Soclose, "it would not be the case if I was to be kept in a dark place like this," he tilts his head and looks at the process at the stove fire before guessing: "making soup!"

"... I am." The hare protests as she splays her already wilted ears irritably at the pat. "Bird's chipper 'cuz he bloomin' well flies. He," Dangeon eyes Soclose with a sudden bright thought "could get us booze! Never mind that soup, feathery friend, you haven't got a hankering to fly to any taverns have you? That could make this morning jolly 'good'!"

"'S'not a bad fought," Stubb says, continuing with the laborious process of purifying the seawater. "Oi reckon a bird your soize cou'd carry a decen' load, eh?" His eyes play over the towering avian frame. Belatedly, he taps the rim of the pan. "An dis ain' soup, ma'e. It ain' rained or snew for weeks now, so we're stuck gettin' water for drinkin' dis way. Bloody waste a wood it is, too."

Carn's not a hard drinker himself, but the idea of a little whiskey, or ale, at least, is fine by him. As he waits for Soclose's answer, he thinks of a problem, "Any o' yew 'ave tha coin tae pay fer that booze? Cain't imagine dem givin' it away, or Soclose robbin' 'em, fer that matter."

Dangeon looks at Amos expectantly.

The osprey's eyes shine in the dim kitchenlight and the osprey plucks at the message bag about his knee, setting it down with a short clink of metal. "/Aw-wee!/ There is no problem with that. I was saving it as a surprise," he crouches and nods, "A surprise, but while I was away we sold your old ship. You do remember you gave-it-to-me as a gift?" He exhales through his beak and admits, "It was mostly a wreck, so I did not get much prize for it, but it will keep us in bottles."

"My ol' ship you mean, and Dang ya ain't gonna die if ya don't get anything to drink. Ya'll make us all aware of your misery, but that's about it." Amos huffs.

Stubb leaves his post by the pan to hunch down by the bird's messenger bag. "Mm, not a bad haul." He paws it gently to enhance his view of the interior. "Cou'd do better if we sell some a dese ol' weapons, tho'," he says, jerking his thumb vaguely in the direction of the courtyard. "Moigh' get somefin' as scrap, oi reckon." A wind tugs at the cloth in the window.

For once, Carn is okay with being wrong, and his criticism is unfounded. He edges slightly closer to Soclose's messanger bag and peers over Stubb's shoudler, nodding approvingly at the contents.

It's a little disconcerting how such a large beast can move so silently when he takes care. Erebos' arrival is signaled by the floorboards creaking only immediately before he opens the door and enters from the mess, neck stretched and head craned as he detects that drink is the topic of discussion. He stand sin the doorway for only a moment, cutting quickly towards the hearth in the center and pushing past anybeast that may be in the way, not one for apologies.

"I /wiilll/." The doe whines at Amos, then peers back at the bird. Everyone is looking in his messenger bag! Dangeon also wishes to see what's in there. It didn't sound like bottles of any sort, but 'keep us in bottles' is a phrase that might just earn the bird a kiss attempt if she hears such again. She stumbles a little as the monitor comes through, but is happily distracted by visions of something to drink in the near future.

"...your ship?" Soclose asks, glancing between Amos and Stubb for a moment. "/A-wheal?/ Does it make it easier to spend knowing who is the benefactor?" Along with the coins is a flat wooden case. "I admired that so much, I had them give it to me as well," Soclose pipes, "the captain did not want to part with it--but we both agreed it wouldn't do him any good if he were to find himself dumped overboard out at sea."

Stubb chuckles. "Tough negotiator," he murmurs with an approving nod. He rises to his feet again and glances at Erebos, then back toward the osprey. "Moi leg's nearly healed. If you're goin' ta town..." he shrugs awkwardly. "Moigh' need an extra paw ta bring back supploies. Maybe. It... It ain' so far, an oi cou'd use a break from dis dark ol' place. Even if it means bundlin' up agains' tha cold."

Carn adjusts the sword as his back as he hears talk of going to town, though he's not entirely sure where 'town' is.

"Nevermind, " Amos replies to the bird, grabbing the doe by the arm, "You wont, ya ain't a bloody dibbun, " He grunts as the monitor passes through, "Watch where you're bloody going lizard."

Once it is immediately apparent that there is no drink to be had, Erebos' interest in the conversation quickly wanes. He squats by the firepit, settling into his bent haunches, and casts a beady black eye over his shoulder at the cat to size him up. The lizard doesn't seem too impressed, but he tastes the air for Amos' scent to get a second opinion.

Dangeon is almost comically suddenly halted by the grabbing of her arm. "Hey, leggo; I want to the peruse the loot too!" She then raises her free arm. "Shopping trip! I'm bally well comin' if we're going on a booze hunt, wot!" Her ears, previously 'wilting', have shot upright.

"Well well," Soclose admits, crowding about the table as Erebos enters and passes by. "The towns I know are not close. Not-too-close." The sea hawk suggests, "Unless you know of another, it would take most of the morning to go and get and be back. The winds would be more favorable if I were to spend the day and return before night." He mutters, "As for village towns, all these trees look the same." He glances at Carn and suggests, "Perhaps the squirrel could lead us to his home and we could buy there?"

Amos holds the hare back, "Nay, we ain't going after any damn booze. So sit down do something productive for once since you can't drink yourself into a stupor."

Stubb nudges Amos hard in the ribs. "Leave 'er alone, 'mos. We could all use a nip a booze. Spirits is low, an we been cooped up here too long," he says, oblivious to his own pun. "Ay, a nip a booze and a li'tew exercoise." He faces Carn expectantly. "Oi were finkin' a Collinsel, but oi ain' opposed ta seekin' a bushtail village. Long as we're armed."

Carn responds with a loud cracking of his knuckles and, "Nae a chance." it's just as simple as that. "Ah'm willing tae go inta Collinsel wit' yew, but yer nae comin' tae mah home."

Dangeon frowns as she's held back. "...booze huntin's productive..." She mutters petuantly, ears again wilting, though they start to perk when Stubb seems to be in support of her going. "See Bosscat; we -all- wan' a bally drink."

"It is of no importance!" Soclose croons, glancing sharply over at Carn. "We have a destination in Collinsel already--do we not? No doubt they will have enough for us all." He looks at the shaded window and says, "Nobody would take us as anything else but junk merchants if we show up with the piles of rust outside. /Ahh?/ We should find large bags to carry them all in, and then carry everything else back." He looks over at Amos and Stubb to see what they think.

"That's an excellent idea, " Amos grins and turns to the hare while still holding her, "I think I've got just the hare for the job, " He stears Dangeon towards the door, "Why don't you see what you can find, and the sooner you find it the faster we get new booze." That'll keep her out of his hair for a bit at least.

Stubb's mind seems to keep drifting off, judging by the way that Soclose's addressing him prompts a sudden jerk of the head. "Eh? Oh, ay." He suddenly remembers the pan and scurries to remove it from the heat. It's none too soon: the smell of metallic burning begins to perfume the air, but it soon subsides.

Carn doesn't say anything more, since the topic of bringing vermin to his clan is off the table, but stands ready to go out on the 'shopping trip'.

Dangeon looks about to protest but then realises that she's being given the job of finding bags to carry the alcohol containers... Thus she gets to choose the size. No bag will be big enough! She gives a salute. "Aye-aye, Catboss!" And off she scampers.

Soclose preens his wingfeathers and takes a few moments to retie the messenger bag about his knee. "Fresh air is good for travel as well. And with no rain, there will be no worry on our journey from the skies!" Securing the bag the osprey looks up and inquires, "So...when do we take this trip?"

Amos smiles as Dangeon is set to task and disappears from the kitchen, "Well we bloody ain't doing anything important at the moment are we? I say we head off as soon as we're able!"

Stubb nods, "Suits me foine, oi say. Though, knowin' our luck, i' 'll prolly start to rain an snow jes' as we're clear a here." He nudges Amos again. "Wouldn' i' bloody figure, eh?"

Carn is still just waiting for word to go. He's just going to go to guard the booze, mostly, and slightly just to escape boredom.

Soclose walks up and down the length of the table, his talons tapping. "Rain I can handle, but snow is another thing." He ruffles his feathers and suggests, "If it snows then we had best be in town by then."

Amos chuckles as Stubb nudges him, smirking, "Aye, and then a horde of some sort would show up just then to put us out of our misery."

Marandus Peeps in from around the door frame as appears to be the gulls habbit. The only sounds he makes are the ruffeling of his feathers and a few scratching sounds as his webed feet were moved across the floor.