Drift Stories/Hands Off the Merchandise: Difference between revisions

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Ilyar sat on the corner of the bar, nursing a glass of brandy in one hand and cradling his head in the other. On the stool beside him sat Bentley, resting their head gently against ~~his~~ arm.

Ilyar sat on the corner of the bar, nursing a glass of brandy in one hand and cradling his head in the other. On the stool beside him sat Bentley, their boater hat sitting on the bar, resting their head gently against the hare's arm.

“I’m bored out of my mind here, captain,” Bentley grumbled, kicking their boots against the bar. “When do we get out in the Drift again? The ship’s probably forgotten me by now.”

Ilyar shot a glance out across the mostly empty bar. The pink-purple glow of the Drift bled softly in through the windows at the far end. It had been almost a month since they arrived back at the ''Cloud Archipelago'', and despite his best efforts he had yet to find any jobs worth taking. He looked down at the raccoon, who was now spinning on the barstool. “Where are Solivane and Quartz?”

Ilyar scratched his long ears and shot a glance out across the mostly empty bar. The pink-purple glow of the Drift bled softly in through the windows at the far end. It had been almost a month since they arrived back at the ''Cloud Archipelago'', and despite his best efforts he had yet to find any jobs worth taking. He looked down at the light brown raccoon, who was now spinning on the barstool. “Where are Solivane and Quartz?”

“Quartz is down on the promenade, something about a new sidearm? Sol is—“ Bentley stopped spinning facing the door. “—here.”

Solivane strode towards them, immaculate white robes drifting gracefully behind them, and dropped an envelope on the bar in front of Ilyar. “This was delivered to the ship. The messenger was most insistent that you read it immediately.”

Solivane strode towards them, the coati's immaculate white robes drifting gracefully behind them, and dropped an envelope on the bar in front of Ilyar. “This was delivered to the ship. The messenger was most insistent that you read it immediately.”

Ilyar opened the envelope and extracted a carefully folded origami hare. Before he could unfold it, it fluttered gracefully onto the bar and began hopping around with a trail of green sparkles. Bentley stared at it with unconcealed glee. After a few hops and a rather impressive somersault, the hare flattened itself out into a small square letter with an ornate gilded edge and glistening green script. Ilyar picked it up and began to read.<blockquote>''Captain Ilyar of the Stationary Traveller,''

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The glass-walled elevator car made its way slowly up the side of the High Spire, the luxurious crown perched atop the ''Cloud Archipelago''’s expanse. Inside, the four members of the ''Stationary Traveller''’s crew stood waiting. Though they tried not to show it, the tension was palpable.

Ilyar, his grey-brown fur brushed smooth and the brass buttons on his coat shining, fixed his gaze on the soft glow of the Drift outside. Bentley stood to his side, running their fingers through the fur on his arms in an attempt to soothe their anxiety. Solivane, meanwhile, was explaining the etiquette of meeting an arms dealer feared across the Multiverse to Quartz, whose golden-brown ears were twitching with excitement.

Ilyar, his grey-brown fur brushed smooth and the brass buttons on his coat shining, fixed his gaze on the soft glow of the Drift outside. Bentley stood to his side, running their fingers through the fur on his arms in an attempt to soothe their anxiety. Solivane, meanwhile, was explaining the etiquette of meeting an arms dealer feared across the Multiverse to Quartz, the lithe fennec fox whose golden-brown ears were twitching with excitement.

"Let the captain do the talking. Speak only when you are spoken to, and always address her as 'Lady Kyrie'," Solivane explained, adjusting their robes to geometric perfection.