Post by Tacks on Oct 24, 2005 16:37:21 GMT -5
WHAM! Tacks slammed hard into the side of his cabin inside of the Merideth Rose, his head smashing into a glass case full of model ships and old knives. "Son of a..." he muttered as tiny little shards of glass rained down into his fur, but couldn't finish his sentance before the next wave threw him to the other side of the room, knocking a burning oil lamp onto the table and setting a few maps on fire. He pushed himself up to his hands and knees and started as fast as he could go towards the door, throwing his rucsack onto his back as he went, knowing that the Rose was going down and there was nothing more than getting the rest of the crew off as safely as possible that he could do about it now. "Ready the life boats!" he screamed, as he threw open the cabin door and launched himself up the stairs at a full run.
"Where's the captain? Get me the captain!" he told the first beast he could find, a quivering young mouse who was barely old enough to be trusted in the rigging. "'e's in 'he 'eel'ouse, sah." she said, obviously doing her darndest to not look scared, though it was pretty blatent that this was the most terrified she'd ever been. "Well get 'im then!" she gave a clumsy little curtsy and started tumbling off towards the wheelhouse with extrodanary speed for a beast with such small legs. "BREGAN!" he yelled, "GET OVER HERE!" and within several seconds, a burly Otter with a scar over his left eye appeared at his side, saluted quickly, and said in a gruff voice "What's the orders, sir?" Bregan was the ship's Bosun, he was a broad backed beast with no sense of humor and one of the least friendly creations you'd ever set eyes on. But he knew his ships, and he could be trusted with the life of anybeast that his commander had told him to protect. He was also very stern, and seemed to always have an air of no-nonsence about him, which made him the perfect beast to be the ship's Bosun. He took utter delight in the beating of anybeast the captain told him to, and he was, in a way, sadistic and evil to the core. But he could be trusted to follow any order to perfection, no matter how much he disliked it. "Ready the life boats, and if we start going down, get every beast you can find off the ship. I don't want anybeast to die here, it's not their time." Bregan nodded solemnly, and started jogging towards the railing in order to ready the boats. Tacks was only the second mate on the Merideth Rose, but everybeast on board knew that he was really the one in command. The Captain was a drunk without any smarts to him, and the 1st mate was nothing but a snivling little coward who was afraid of most anything. Including giving orderers, or so it seemed.
He tapped his footpaw with a little bit of impatience, the Captain would have been here by now, if he was sober. Which wasn't blooy likely. They wouldn't have even been in this situation in the first place if the scum was sober. He turned his head to the left, just in time to see the old fox captain of thiers stumble out of the wheelhouse, most of his wieght on the shoulders of the young mousemaid who was nearly carrying him. The fox had one paw raised high, a cheery smile on his face, as you might expect of a famous beast greeting his fans. The captain, as always, was blissfully unaware of the goingons around him. A mug of rum in his other paw, he accidently tipped it a little too far forward as he "walked" and dumped most of the liqued down the front of the poor mouse's dress. Wouldn't be noticed much though, through the torrenting rain of the storm. "Bloody hellsgates..." cursed the Marmot, suveying the Fox with disdain as he staggered towards him. "Sir," murmered Tacks, nearly inaudible above the squall, "Get everybeast off ship, she can't take this beating much longer." the Fox just gave him a sly smile, like he knew something that nobeast else possibly could have, and said "Well I'm grethly glad fer yer cothern, uhhh, kid." scratching his head, attempting to remember the name of his second mate through his blind drunk stupor, "But ze Merifef Wothse is a gud thip and thee'll thay up thoo any kinda thorm. The dun need no tenton pa' to 'er, juth le' 'er go were thee pleetheth." Tacks smiled for a moment, reeled back his shoulder, and punched the captain as hard as he could, square in the nose. Making him pass out from the unexpected hit, and fall uncontious into the Mousemaid's arms.
"You, little one, what's your name?" he said to the little mouse, who was quivering under the weight of the drunken old fox. "Mariah McLewen" she stammered, blushing slightly at all of this sudden attention she was getting. "Mariah, that's a pretty name." grinned Tacks, watching Mariah's cheeks get even redder than before. "Thank you, sah." she said quietly. "Now, Mariah, take the Captain to a life boat. You stay with him there, you'll be his care taker until he wakes up. Just, whatever you do, keep him away from any sorts of alchohol, it's what's best for the entire crew right about now. You and your boat, set off when Bregan gives the order to, or when the ship's going down, or when you're full up. Whichever comes first. Now, you'll be in charge of your boat, so you'll need to keep a cool head about you. You got all that, Mariah?" said Tacks gruffly. "Yes sah, I can do that, sah." she attempted to curtsy again, but her knees almost buckled as the ship got tossed around by another wave. "That's a good girl, get going now." Mariah nodded with a smile and tumbled off, in her odd way of walking, towards on of the nearest lifeboats.
It was then that he noticed the flames leaping up the stairs from his cabin. He swore uncerimoniously, and started yelling, "ALL PAWS TO THE LIFEBOATS, FIRE ON THE DECK!" he'd always rememeber the next few seconds with some confusion. There was a loud snap, a scream, and all of a sudden, he found the main mast whirling fast towards his head. He didn't have time to move before a hefty paw shoved him out of the way, and caused him to stumble several feet and drop onto the deck with an aching shoulder. "What the?" he asked the wind, looking for the beast who pushed him. He found the beat, or what was left of him, sticking out from under the mast. He was very, very dead, but even in death, the unknown Shrew carried a determined grin on his face, like nothing could stop him, like death was just the next part of his journey, and he'd be leaving to take over the underworld now. Tacks crawled toward the beast and ran his paw over the Shrew's face. He'd never seen him before, but he'd saved his life, and for that he was gratefull. He looked into the empty brown eyes for a second, before pushing them shut, as a common courtesy to the dead.
He stood on his footpaws and surveyed the damage. There was no way that the Rose could stay afloat for too much longer. Especially in this weather. He didn't have long to check it all out though, seconds after he got to his feet, a wall of water hit him and sent him sprawling across the deck and into the railing. His eyes sprung open, his back arched across the open water of the ocean, and his paws flailing for support, anything would do, anything to keep him from falling into the murky depths below. He didn't find the support in time. The ship kept rocking, and he went overboard, losing contiousness as he slammed into the water.
The next morning...
"Where in da name o' the hellgates am I?" Tacks opened his eyes daintily and gingerly moved his head to one side. A burning pain shot through his entire body when he moved, and his head hurt like nothing else to begin with. "'M'I dead?" he muttered groggily, as visions of the night before filled his memory like the scenes of a badly writen tragic play. The cool sea breeze filled his nostrils, confirming that he was indeed, somehow, allive. "Well I'll be, I'm allive." He smiled, pushing himself into a sitting position, even though it hurt him to do so. But that didn't matter. He was allive, and he could take on anything.
"Where's the captain? Get me the captain!" he told the first beast he could find, a quivering young mouse who was barely old enough to be trusted in the rigging. "'e's in 'he 'eel'ouse, sah." she said, obviously doing her darndest to not look scared, though it was pretty blatent that this was the most terrified she'd ever been. "Well get 'im then!" she gave a clumsy little curtsy and started tumbling off towards the wheelhouse with extrodanary speed for a beast with such small legs. "BREGAN!" he yelled, "GET OVER HERE!" and within several seconds, a burly Otter with a scar over his left eye appeared at his side, saluted quickly, and said in a gruff voice "What's the orders, sir?" Bregan was the ship's Bosun, he was a broad backed beast with no sense of humor and one of the least friendly creations you'd ever set eyes on. But he knew his ships, and he could be trusted with the life of anybeast that his commander had told him to protect. He was also very stern, and seemed to always have an air of no-nonsence about him, which made him the perfect beast to be the ship's Bosun. He took utter delight in the beating of anybeast the captain told him to, and he was, in a way, sadistic and evil to the core. But he could be trusted to follow any order to perfection, no matter how much he disliked it. "Ready the life boats, and if we start going down, get every beast you can find off the ship. I don't want anybeast to die here, it's not their time." Bregan nodded solemnly, and started jogging towards the railing in order to ready the boats. Tacks was only the second mate on the Merideth Rose, but everybeast on board knew that he was really the one in command. The Captain was a drunk without any smarts to him, and the 1st mate was nothing but a snivling little coward who was afraid of most anything. Including giving orderers, or so it seemed.
He tapped his footpaw with a little bit of impatience, the Captain would have been here by now, if he was sober. Which wasn't blooy likely. They wouldn't have even been in this situation in the first place if the scum was sober. He turned his head to the left, just in time to see the old fox captain of thiers stumble out of the wheelhouse, most of his wieght on the shoulders of the young mousemaid who was nearly carrying him. The fox had one paw raised high, a cheery smile on his face, as you might expect of a famous beast greeting his fans. The captain, as always, was blissfully unaware of the goingons around him. A mug of rum in his other paw, he accidently tipped it a little too far forward as he "walked" and dumped most of the liqued down the front of the poor mouse's dress. Wouldn't be noticed much though, through the torrenting rain of the storm. "Bloody hellsgates..." cursed the Marmot, suveying the Fox with disdain as he staggered towards him. "Sir," murmered Tacks, nearly inaudible above the squall, "Get everybeast off ship, she can't take this beating much longer." the Fox just gave him a sly smile, like he knew something that nobeast else possibly could have, and said "Well I'm grethly glad fer yer cothern, uhhh, kid." scratching his head, attempting to remember the name of his second mate through his blind drunk stupor, "But ze Merifef Wothse is a gud thip and thee'll thay up thoo any kinda thorm. The dun need no tenton pa' to 'er, juth le' 'er go were thee pleetheth." Tacks smiled for a moment, reeled back his shoulder, and punched the captain as hard as he could, square in the nose. Making him pass out from the unexpected hit, and fall uncontious into the Mousemaid's arms.
"You, little one, what's your name?" he said to the little mouse, who was quivering under the weight of the drunken old fox. "Mariah McLewen" she stammered, blushing slightly at all of this sudden attention she was getting. "Mariah, that's a pretty name." grinned Tacks, watching Mariah's cheeks get even redder than before. "Thank you, sah." she said quietly. "Now, Mariah, take the Captain to a life boat. You stay with him there, you'll be his care taker until he wakes up. Just, whatever you do, keep him away from any sorts of alchohol, it's what's best for the entire crew right about now. You and your boat, set off when Bregan gives the order to, or when the ship's going down, or when you're full up. Whichever comes first. Now, you'll be in charge of your boat, so you'll need to keep a cool head about you. You got all that, Mariah?" said Tacks gruffly. "Yes sah, I can do that, sah." she attempted to curtsy again, but her knees almost buckled as the ship got tossed around by another wave. "That's a good girl, get going now." Mariah nodded with a smile and tumbled off, in her odd way of walking, towards on of the nearest lifeboats.
It was then that he noticed the flames leaping up the stairs from his cabin. He swore uncerimoniously, and started yelling, "ALL PAWS TO THE LIFEBOATS, FIRE ON THE DECK!" he'd always rememeber the next few seconds with some confusion. There was a loud snap, a scream, and all of a sudden, he found the main mast whirling fast towards his head. He didn't have time to move before a hefty paw shoved him out of the way, and caused him to stumble several feet and drop onto the deck with an aching shoulder. "What the?" he asked the wind, looking for the beast who pushed him. He found the beat, or what was left of him, sticking out from under the mast. He was very, very dead, but even in death, the unknown Shrew carried a determined grin on his face, like nothing could stop him, like death was just the next part of his journey, and he'd be leaving to take over the underworld now. Tacks crawled toward the beast and ran his paw over the Shrew's face. He'd never seen him before, but he'd saved his life, and for that he was gratefull. He looked into the empty brown eyes for a second, before pushing them shut, as a common courtesy to the dead.
He stood on his footpaws and surveyed the damage. There was no way that the Rose could stay afloat for too much longer. Especially in this weather. He didn't have long to check it all out though, seconds after he got to his feet, a wall of water hit him and sent him sprawling across the deck and into the railing. His eyes sprung open, his back arched across the open water of the ocean, and his paws flailing for support, anything would do, anything to keep him from falling into the murky depths below. He didn't find the support in time. The ship kept rocking, and he went overboard, losing contiousness as he slammed into the water.
The next morning...
"Where in da name o' the hellgates am I?" Tacks opened his eyes daintily and gingerly moved his head to one side. A burning pain shot through his entire body when he moved, and his head hurt like nothing else to begin with. "'M'I dead?" he muttered groggily, as visions of the night before filled his memory like the scenes of a badly writen tragic play. The cool sea breeze filled his nostrils, confirming that he was indeed, somehow, allive. "Well I'll be, I'm allive." He smiled, pushing himself into a sitting position, even though it hurt him to do so. But that didn't matter. He was allive, and he could take on anything.
Usually someone replies by now, but I guess the length of it scared everyone off 
