A good strong name

[Pintel]

Tortuga was still the best bloody place Pintel could find himself. The sights, the sounds, the smells, the tastes, everything just boiled down to a great bloody time.

The greying feline took in a deep breath of air, beasts of all shapes and sizes around him making merry any way they knew how. Most were drinking. The rest were either yabbering on about this or that, playing a fiddle (he liked the fiddle.. never worked out why) and other such merriment. Ragetti was around . . . somewhere, but his mind had switched gears having spotted the name of one pub he had yet to grace his presence with.

And so Pintel found himself sat within he walls of The Feline Fancy.

Good strong name, that. Him being feline and all, it sounded right up his ally. So he now just sat and waited, batting his paws on the tabletop to await someone to come serve him.

[Ember Weston]

Oh yes, the mass of different sounds and smells could certailnly be pleasent to the senses. But they could also be quite unappatizing at times as well. For example, having a burly brown furred tom-cat up in your face that smelled like a dumpter behind a fishmarket that had been rolled around in a brewery could be easily considered one.

Ember grimaced and wiggled her way out of said tom-cat's grasp when a new patron entered and sat down. The first patron scowled, copped a feel and meandered off tail swishing unhappily but allowed her to get back to work. Sighing inn relief she wound he way through the crowd of feline males and uttered short unhappy squeaks along the way as clawed fingers found their way to innopropriate places, but being as soft spoken as she was Ember said nothing.

Appearing in front of the new patron she paused to eye his dirty fur that seemed to be thinning out and twitched her whiskers nervously as she balanced the empty tray on her covered arm.

"What can I get, ye?"

[Pintel]

Pintel turned his head and stared at the mouse for a second. What? How in the hell can a mouse work in a pub so obviously directed at felines? His ears quirked themselves forward and his tail lifted itself off the floor. It took a moment for him to realise she had asked him a question,

"Oh right." he ran a clawed finger around one of the grey strands hanging from his right temple in contemplation for a while. "Got any Black Oak Whiskey by any chance?" he asked, releasing the hold on his hair. He'd only had the drink once but it was incredibly strong and bitter, much to the feline's tastes.

Unfortunately most pubs didn't house it at all.

And he couldn't be bothered sailing across the ocean to find the one place that did. "'N if not, regular whiskey's fine." he added. "Oh, 'n 'ave you spotted a rat wif one eye 'round abouts?" Pintel felt he might as well ask, as he looked over his shoulder. Either out of instinct to see if someone heard him ask if a mouse had seen a rat, or if Ragetti would appear if he mentioned him.

Seeing that neither happened he looked back to her. "S'a mate of mine."

[Ember Weston]

The barmouse shifted uncomfortably under the aging tom's gaze but kept her chin up and high like her mother had once told her to do.

True, the Fancy certainly was directed and intended for members of the feline race, but the owner Bob Murdock had a small rodent fetish. Loved to see little mouse and shrew girls scurrying about in his pub. Most likely an odd twist on classic instincts. Why, a chinchilla had worked at the pub for a short while and he had followed after that powder grey lass like he was her own shadow. Safe to say, the south American rodent had up and left real quick after the strange behavior became apparent.

The mouse's ears twitched in thought as she mentally checked off what they had in the back and after a brief mental inventory was done she was sure that they had no Black Oak Whiskey. Might be some Cherry Wood Whiskey, but no Black Oak was for sure. Before she could scurry off to get his beverage he questioned about a rat and her ears went flat. Oh, like she hadn't heard that line before. An ornery old tom questions pleasently if she seen so and so, she makes mistake of telling tom where so and so is, Ember get's stuck scrubbing blood off the walls and hour or so later.

Before she could stop herself the words left her mouth and she stiffened immediatly after. "Mate or meal, luv?"

[Pintel]

"Mate or meal?" Pintel echoed, his ears tilting forward at the echo he hadn't expected. He thought it over a minute and he laughed a bit as he folded his arms on the table. "He's a bit of both." he replied casually, his tail curling around one of his own legs as he said this. "You misunderstood me luv, 'es names Ragetti. Tall fella, brown fur 'n blonde head. Dumbo ears 'n 'e 'as one eye."

He turned in his seat slowly, glancing around at the other patrons of the bar. All of them felines, one a lion even! Cor, he hadn't seen an actual lion in years. No wonder the pompous bastards called themselves King of the Beasts. With manes that big it made sense. But he did notice the rodent barmaids. Mice, one rat, even a small weasel he spotted.

As much a predator he was, even he found this a little odd. And a tad cruel for the girls. But he wasn't one to voice such concerns, the only female that had ever matted to him were his sisters. And he only knew the whereabouts of one of them. Turning back to her he shrugged a bit, "I guess you ain't seens him. Nev'mind."

[Ember Weston]

The mouse's ears slowly unflattened themselves as the feline explained and she untensed when he laughed openly. She half listened as he described his friend but didn't need to think hard.

"Only rat I've eva' seen 'ere is Marissa," she jerked her chin in the direction of a dark haired rat girl, "Most rat blokes knows ta stay away from dis pub. Know mean cats and even ole' Taka drink 'ere." She subtly made a gesture to the Lion on the other side of the room. Lord how she despised that creature, everytime she walked past he'd yell out "Oy ickle Mouse, come pull me thorn!"

She gave him a gesture that said to give her a moment and she scurried off quickly to find some whiskey. Making her usual trip through the crowd of testosterone she disappeared into the back and rooted through the hay filled crates. DSown in a corner she scavanged and found two bottles of the cherry wood whiskey. Grabbing one in her pink padded paws she held it up triuphantly and set it on her tray properly. Skittering back to the front she plucked a piece of hay off her sleeve and popped it into her mouth thoughfully before finding a glass and making her way back to the greying tomcat and gave him a slight smile as she set the glass down before him with the dust covered bottle.

Her ears twitched as she listened for any calls and was pleasently surprised when she heard none. Thinking it was a right nice time to appoint herself a break, she pulled out a chair across from the male and dropped down with small squeak of enjoyment from allowing the pressure to leave her poor feet.

[Ragetti]

Most rodent's had a knack for keeping out of places that felines tended to gather in throes. With a name like "The Feline Fancy" one might of been daft to be a vermin and want to set a paw in this place.

But the tall scarecrow form of the rodent who lumbered in through the doorway was anything but typical vermin. He was a pirate (even if some were to faultier the thought) He had enough height and sharp enough daggers on his form to warrant enough respect on the streets. Plus it didn't hurt that he usually showed his tail 'round with a heavy graying tom cat near by. Currently tho - he'd seem to have misplaced the old hisser and this was the last pub on the street.

Ragetti was a rat who'd seen nicer days. He had mangy brown fur; top with bits O'blond. Every bone in his body showed and what clothing he wore was tattered and stained. His left eye was crystal blue and searched the pub for a familiar face - while the right was brown and rolled 'bout as if he had no control over it. Upon closer inspection once could easily tell it was actually fake. His face was unevenly scruffy; his tail was long but knotted in places - and he dripped an air of naivety. Still - he was a imposing rodent.

Enough so that most of the felines in the place gave him the eye and the eye only. (aha.) Rag's ears flickered forward a bit more as he spotted a few lovely rodent femme's scattering to and fro. Odd - thought it was the 'feline' fancy. He'd make no connection to predator and prey. And tho he would have liked to watch the girls a bit more - his main objective was to find -

- aha there he is!

Long legs brought the rat over to the table where Pintel sat. He squeaked happily and reached into his green jacket pulling out a small glass bottle and setting it down before the old tom cat. "Nevah guess wot ah found fer ye!"

Because she was on his blind side; Ragetti had yet to even notice the little mouse femme. Tho certainly he would once he moved his head.

[Pintel]

Pintel watched the little mouse lady return with a bottle and a glass and thanked her as she placed them in front of him and he thought that was it. She'd go off back to work but he watched as she sat across from him and he tilted his head to her in question. Normally mice steered clear of him like a ship steered clear of reefs. Maybe it was because he was the only cat in the place that hadn't made a grab or cat call at her.

Still, he welcomed the company with a nod as he began pouring the whiskey into his own glass only to be interrupted again. Somebody else arrived, setting a glass bottle in front of him. He recognised the paw before he knew who it was and smirked, lifting his head to Ragetti. "Ah, there ye are!" he greeted, before looking back to Ember.

"This is 'im. Told ya, one eyed rat." Pintel smirked before he realised just what it was that Ragetti had brought. His tail lifted itself. "....s'that what I fink it is?" he asked quietly, picking up the bottle and pulled the lid off. Oh it was. MILK. "Aw Rags, ye should'ne have!" he all but purred as he poured the milk right on top of the whiskey he had just poured himself before.

Such a strange combination, but it was a combination the old tomcat quite enjoyed.

[bunnybasil]

-The Feline Fancy-

Certainly not a place a well rounded, well bred rabbit would be caught in. But Basil was neither was he? No. He was just as rough and tumble as the other scallywags. Well, sort of. He was the unmentioned cabin bunny aboard the Black Pearl. Prior to the unfortunate digestion of its captain by the Kraken. But, that's the life and death of a pirate right mate? Green eyes shifted as he proceeded into the confines of the place. He missed Tortuga to a VERY small degree. It was how he became a cabin boy to begin with. Working in the Filthy Whore for scraps and a shilling here and there. But, it still had fond memories. Very few, but fond all the same. His thumbs curled into the waist band of his deep, yet faded black britches. A black sleeveless shirt which was undone to the navel and showed off the rather interesting tribal-esque tattoo on his left arm. It had been pretty easy for him to go unnoticed aboard the ship. Spending the first portion of it leaning over the edge and 'feeding the seagulls' as it were. But, he soon earned his sea legs and some of the other mates taught him to swash buckle and run with a knife without stabbing yourself. He didn't feel very liked by many of them however. Probably due to his age and the fact that he was in many regards a noble. But in his own mind, he had the ocean in his veins; a love for the sea that told him that, well, since he hated powdered wigs and fake moles that the life of a pilfering, plundering, pirate was the perfect vocation indeed. And so, he traveled to Tortuga, escaping the 'dainty' life that was expected of him and found a the ultimate ship of cut throats and scurvy dogs to teach him in the ways of piracy. Though, it didn't always seem that way. But for this little pick pocket with a curse that only a pirate could appreciate, Basil was having the time of his life. He couldn't have asked for anything better. Except perhaps... Someone to talk to on occasion. Seemed as though, everyone left him behind when they reached shore. Nothing new mind you. But an annoyance just the same. Pirate code. "he who stays behind, gets left behind." But Basil refuses to 'hop' to catch up. He is far too good for that mind you. So, after a long winded introduction, our brave lad enters the Feline Fancy, in hopes to see a familiar face and perhaps taste a bit of rum while he is here.

[Ember Weston]

Ember nearly fell from her seat with the sudden appearance of the Rat. But it was more how the rat looked. What a scruffy thing! The eye that faced her was the most obvious fake eye that she had ever had the displeasure of seeing, and he was nothing but fur and bone! Lord, maybe his mate the tom ate all his meals.

She watched the exchange with curiosity and wrinkled her nose when he poured the milk over the liquor. She had worked at the Fancy for years and never had she seen a patron make such a combination. Popping her shoulders she crossed her slight legs and absently began to smooth the pale pink fuzz on her tail. Rolling the appendage through her pink padded paw she quirked he whiskers as she eyed the rat. Ears twitching at the sound of the door opening she looked up out of habit and did a double take. Was that a bloody rabbit? She couldn;'t remember seeing a rabbit in here before, though, neither had she ever seen a male rat in here either.

Deciding to stay put she reasoned that she was on break and one of the other girls would get to the youngish looking hare. She just hoped he didn't take a seat over by Taka, Lord knows that Lion was in the mood for a brawl and a lay tonight. Deciding she might as well ask the felllow rodent she tipped her head to the side, "Can I get ye a glass, luv? I'm on break but I tink I might join ye. Tha' is if none ya mind? Be nice to chat wit som'un who don' plan on hitchin' up me skirt."

[Ragetti]

"Yes, Its wot ye fink it is!" Rags almost giggled a little at Pintel's reaction to the milk. He'd had to be quick about stealing it too. He'd followed a old huffy badger female (oh Gibbs would have loved her) half way through town and just waited for the opportune moment to shove his hand into her bags. Curling those deft long digits 'round the milk - he'd took off running without her even knowing he'd been there. "Wasn't easy tah get so ye enjoy it, mate." He smiled bigger at the feline about to lean over a bit when Pintel motioned to the other rodent near by (and also 'cause she spoke.)

Rags head swiveled so that she was in his line of view He actually saw the odd rabbit salutering in first before his good eye focused enough to go down to the mouse, and why 'ello, 'ello (as the Old Tom might put.) One of the rat's dirty goldenrod eyebrows popped up and he smiled a full mouth of going bad teeth. Oh and what a cute little mousette we have here eh? That single blue eye sparkled and instead he vouched to lean on his elbow; grabbing the nearest chair with his bony ankle and dragged it over so he could plant his bony butt down into it. He rested his scruffy chin in his palm and winked. (AND GIGGLED) at the female.

"Ta, Love. Ye fetch me wot evah yer pretty wee heart desires now."

[Ember Weston]

Oh, so much for not hitching up her skirt. But the barmouse flushed and chittered shyly. True, it was easier to except advances by a male closer to her own species, but it was still embaressing for her. Wringing her pale fuzzy tail in her fingers she scuttled up and out of her chair to fetch the rat (Ragetti had it been?) his own glass.

When she had reached the bar she had graabed a glass and with a pause her whiskers twitched and she grabbed a second and a bottle of cognac. If she was going to sit with two drinking males she might as well get a few drinks herself. Forcing her way through a mob of toms she squeaked shrilly with each pinch and squeeze. Lord how she would never get used to that! Luckily she had learned to wrap her tail around her leg when she went through the mass of males now, less likely to get grabbed or stepped on.

Happy to have reached her chair she brandished the two new glasses and began uncorking and pooring herself some of her own poison. Her tail unraveled itself and dropped below the table where it lightly brushed against the naked appendage of the her fellow vermin.

[Pintel]

The greying tomcat had watched silently as Ragetti had finally realised the little mouse, and if you were looking closely enough you could see one of his eyes twitch ever so slightly at Ragetti's choice of posture and what was that - a wink? His brows raised at that and he watched her scurry away before nuding Ragetti in the side. Which was like elbowing a wooden post.

"'Ere now, wot're you up to now?" he asked as his free paw clutched his bizzare concution of liquor and milk and swishing it around lazily. "Fancy 'er?" Pintel added before taking a long drink of the mixture. It was then he happened to turn his head and he noticed something else you normally would not see amongst a throng of felines.

Basil.

Crime and netly. Did the rabbit want to be devoured? Crazy git. Pintel snorted a bit before looking back at Ragetti. "Bunny boy's 'sided ta give this 'ere bar the pleasure of his company. Shall we watch if things get nasty?" he asked as the little mouse returned.

And may I add it was a good thing Pintel hadn't noticed the tail brushing, even if it was unintended? I shall. And it was a good thing he did not see that.

[bunnybasil]

Bunny boy. Always comments. But he neglected to hear it which was a good thing. He was also not fond of comments about his age. he was the youngest of nineteen! he couldn't help his place in line! And the only boy for that matter. But he was sure he could hold his own even here. he had lived in Totuga before becoming the cabin boy. He finally saw the gruesome twosome and walked over as though this was an everyday occurrence. "Hello gents" that fine and proper accent pronouncing all the words correctly. Some pirate. "Seems you got here before I did. Miss me?" he smiled and drew in a shallow breath. "I need a hot bath and a cold rum..." he chuckled to himself. He acted as though he hadn't been left behind at all. He winked at them both before sliding a chair over and spinning it backwards so he straddled it, resting his chin on the back. Those green eyes laying on the other two. Two white paws crossed over the back of the chair and rested on either side of his white fuzzy face. Yes, white rabbits normally have pink eyes, but Basil wasn't a normal rabbit. His short white cotton tail poking up proudly from his black pants. Ears standing tall and his whole face one big lie of nothing bothering him. Better this way. Can't let them think he's a baby. He'd get more guff than he already does!

[Ragetti]

"Wot?" Came the innocent reply the feline's question to wither the rat 'fancied' the mouse or not. Ragetti's head wobbled on his bony neck as he shook his noggin in an amused manner; pursing his lips around his gnawing teeth as he gave Pintel his best 'what-makes-you-think-that?' gaze. ".. dun know where ye could come up wit such an idea." The rodent clicked. Oh he enjoyed pushing the old Tom Cat's buttons. He begun to lean over towards Pintel when he was interrupted yet again.

This time by whats-es-name? Rabbit-boy.

The rat looked up at the rabbit with an arched brow. Honestly he didn't know the lad too well. Didn't often talk to him; being as the only young critter Pintel liked hanging around him was Rags himself; they didn't meet up much. "O'w ah bath? Waste O'coin says I."

He was about to inject something or another about not having enough soap to wash EARS that long - but the return of the little mouse wench had his single eye (and short attention span) once more.

Ragetti used a bony ankle to scoot her chair out a bit more for her and accepted the whiskey as she handed it to him. Oooh, their tails brushed did they? The bilge rat's own flickered a bit and his whiskers twitch. Smile grew and winked (AGAIN!) at her. "Ta, Luve.. 'uch appreciate it."

Now was he flirting? Or just doing it to piss off Pintel? Who knew!