The Salt Spears Plan: Growing Fame

[Kami-Gaz]

Tippy taps could be heard walking down the murky and empty street in the middle of the day, aside from the white noise of factories working on either side these oddly loud scrapings of clawed feet against the cobbled stone were piercing. The owner of these paws was a snow-white dog with long fur that fluffed out due to the humidity of the air. The puppers ears were drooping as she looked from wall to wall before sitting down in the street with a long and agitated sigh.

Her nose had never failed her, EVER! But now… she couldn’t pinpoint the scent of her comrades… the men who had helped her break free from another’s tyrannical deceptions. Feeling it was safe to do so, the dog looked up, staring into the smoggy sky that made the sky an opaque blanket that hid natural sky. “I HATE THIS PLACE!” Mika yelled, the frustration of not being able to find her friends.

From behind a trash bin a head popped out, the unkempt long hair of a young girl. She looked no older than a decade, but her clothes were ragged, and her entire form was filthy. This human was a scrawny being that showed easy signs of malnourishment. “I… I hate it too doggy….” She spoke as her form slowly emerged from behind the bin. “Do you want to talk about it? Old Joe says that talking about our problems makes everyone feel better.” She spoke, putting on the best adult voice she could to mimic what an adult sounded like to her.

“Ye… Yeah.” The dog spoke before standing on it’s haunches and slinking over to be by this girl’s side… She looked to be a kind soul; a good person who had been treated so badly. “Yeah… That sounds nice! I’m Mika! Mika Gooddog! And you?” The dog asked before sitting by the girl, who was smiling back at her.

“I’m Leenie, Leenie Holdwin, Good to meet your Mika!” She mimicked the dog’s interaction, chuckling before her body started to convulse with a coughing fit that ended rather quickly. “How did you get here Mika?” She asked, weakly as she moved to sit against the wall in a flimsy cardboard shelter that had a raggedy set of blankets and a filthy stuffed bear.

“Well…-“ Mika began, starting to weave the tale of how she had gotten here… “It all started with Mister Mousie.”

---

In a rather large abandoned warehouse a few days ago, this building was on the coast near the docks, it looked rundown on the outside but it had very tight security as a rather short man with mouse black hair pulled the large sliding door on the front to a close and twisted a large key to lock it. Once it was closed all the sound from the outside vanished aside from the hum of a machine that pumped air into the room and sucked out the old air. The man in a suit turned around with a warm smile and almost skipped over to Mika and her two companions Chase and Bassanio.

“I can’t thank you three enough for putting your trust in me!” Mousie spoke as he pulled a folding chair out from behind a low wall and handed it to whoever was closest. Doing this twice more until everyone had a seat. He unfolded his own and sat on it.

Mika copied the man slowly, her burning wings folded to her back and her tail poking out the back of the chair, swaying at a fast pace. “Well! That’s because you said you can help me howl at the moon as soon as possible! You said you had a plan! If you don’t well… you lied and that makes you a bad man.” There was a strangely sinister smirk on that innocent face of Mika’s… one that sent a chill down the spine of the newcomer.

“Well, that is because I do… I was going to find Veera Falcone and Tia Dreki of the Obsidian Queens and help them… but when I saw what you guys did to Mister Graystone…. I got chills! I just had to offer my help!” The man spoke, looking over the trio with a sincere smile.

---

Post: 1

Mika: acd1fc

Mousie: efff9b

Leenie: ffd1f6

[Bobbie]

Chase had been pacing since the moment he and Bassanio were chucked into this cold freezer, only to meet two others who must have crossed the same villain before them to earn themselves the same punishment.

This is outrageous, he was thrown into the same cold, metal box as these two amateurs and... Bassanio. A quick and gruff snicker in the chef's direction was enough to make it clear - in Chase's mind, this was all his fault. If he had done this alone, he sure that he wouldn't have got caught. Grabbing the door handle, he tried to force the door open for the sixth time, eliciting a groan from one of the poor freezing underlings, who was trying his very best to keep his brittle bones from freezing solid and breaking with the slightest movement.

“Will you g-give it a rest? You’ve tried it f-five t-t-times already before. It’s not. G-going. To open. It's locked from the out-s-side! Do you understand how l-locks work!? We’re going to f-f-freeze to death... if the smog d-doesn’t kill us f-f-first.” The man who looked like he could easily be twice Chase’s age, his eyes sunken, snapped from his corner as his teeth chattered uncontrollably.

Chase whipped his head around, luckily having his trusty blue padded jacket on him to keep himself warm, though its wonderfully large pockets were emptied of their contents before he was thrown in this prison cell of a freezer. In truth, however, he didn’t particularly need the jacket, his limbs unfeeling and made of metal. “Well, I’m not going to just curl up into a corner, all sad and pathetic, and die in here with you. You might have nothing planned for your life and might find resigning to this fate acceptable, but I do not.” He tried the door again. "I have things I need to do." Chase may have been harsh in how he delivered that message, but his heart was in the right place, and giving up was not an option - they were either going to find a way out for themselves, or Mika would have to find them.

Kicking the door one more time, he let out an aggravated sigh and then turned to Bassanio. “Any ideas?”

“Stop wasting your energy and tell me something.” the older man spoke again, “I know how we got in here.” he gestured to his buddy, then spread his hands toward Bassanio and Chase. “I have never seen you two working here, so I know you’re not in here for botching up a job. So... what exactly got you both thrown in here?”

Chase stared at the annoying man who looked like he was only one step away from his grave, and sighed once more. He had a point, this was wasting energy. Sitting down to rest for a moment, he turned to Bassanio. “I’ll leave this story for you to tell...”

---

Entering the warehouse with Mika and Bassanio, Chase stood tall, his hands cozily tucked away into his pockets which were oddly empty, giving him little relief from his frequent urge to nick items, regardless of whether he needed them or not, and only to feel bad about it later on. This was where his self-consoling excuse of 'if you leave something in a position to be stolen, then you deserve to have it so' came from.

Looking for anything to fill his hands with, Chase was the first one to take the chair that Mousie offered to them. Busying his fingers with the task of opening it up, he soon sat down and crossed his arms. ‘Putting their trust in him’ felt a bit too strongly worded - Chase put his trust in Mika, and maybe - though he wouldn’t admit it - in Bassanio, but this man? He’d rather see him be true to his word first. Judging by the devious look on Mika’s face, it seemed he wasn’t the only one prepared for a negative outcome.

As Mr Mousie mentioned the Obsidian Queens, Chase raised his eyebrows, having heard the name being thrown around, but he had no idea who its members were. It seemed that talk travelled very quickly, almost as quickly as the smog that filled the air of this forsaken town.

“So what help are you offering, exactly?” he leaned forward, one elbow on his knee and his chin resting in his palm while his other arm hung down off his other leg. His rose-coloured eyes were impatiently fixed on the man.

---

Chase: #eacce2

Freezer guy: #a7137f

[Vio]

^{Bassanio #1}

---

This was a predicament. Certainly not one that Rosencrantz Bassanio had expected to be in at any point in his life, either. And yet, here he was — here they were — locked in an industrial sized cold store freezer as some sort of cruel execution. Truly, there were much more comfortable ways to die than from exposure, though he had no plans to experience any of the possibilities, whether they crossed his mind or not. For the most part, he remained silent with arms tightly crossed, eyeing his frigid prison.

^{“Will you g– give it a rest…?”}

^{“Well, I’m not going to…,” Chase Guillard replied:
“I have things I need to do… Any ideas?”}

“Nothing immediately useful, I regret,” the blond chef answered calmly, mentally crossing off an unseen checklist of possibilities as he ran through as many scenarios as he could feasibly think of. Large cuts of meat hung from the sturdy railings affixed to the ceiling, each supported by a hook and short chain. Of the four men present, he was perhaps the most exposed, dressed in shirt and trousers with a cummerbund about his waist; his lack of a proper coat or jacket was seldom an issue on the streets of Dauntan, but would sooner pose a problem. “Other than to keep moving,” he added, setting himself upon the floor and beginning a rather basic sit up routine, much to the apparent confusion of the others.

^{“Stop wasting your energy,” the older one said:
“What exactly got you both thrown in here…?”}

^{“I’ll leave this story for you to tell…”}

“Well, for starters,” Bass said between soft exertions. “You want to keep your blood flowing… And, if you insist,” he continued with a sigh. He was trying to think, not tell a story, but he supposed it wouldn’t be a bad thing to oblige, so long as they listened…

^{—— A FEW DAYS PRIOR ——}

“I can’t thank you enough,” he said — a man by the name of ‘Mousie’ — as he handed out chairs. A talk was what he’d requested, under the obligation that he’d aid Mika Gooddog in her distinctly canid short-term goal. That, however, didn’t wholly sit right with Bassanio, if only because of past experience. Silently, he pinched the bridge of his nose, reminding himself that not every soul was corrupt and rotten to the core as he sat himself down and assessed the curious gentleman.

“I’m sure your assistance would be most welcome, Mister…?” He allowed the question to linger on the air for a moment, to prompt the man’s proper introduction much as Chase did with his own, more abrupt query. Bassanio had no idea what to expect of this suited sir and, if life experience had told him anything, it was to not put too much faith in men in complete suits — a catalyst to his own reason for omitting certain articles of what was otherwise similar attire. It was a simple, if soured opinion on the life of business: A man without a jacket had less to hide…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>A chilled Bassanio begins to tell the tale of how he and Chase ended up in the freezer!

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Rosencrantz Bassanio | #add8e6
Mika Gooddog | #acd1fc
Chase Guillard | #eacce2
Mousie [NPC] | #efff9b
Old Frosty [NPC] | #a7137f

[Kami-Gaz]

Mika looked the man over and heard the reactions of her friends, they had been there when this Mousie approached offering a place to stay and operate from. He was very enthusiastic and seemed to still be this way now they were in his warehouse. Though he himself was looking over the three and sensed their apprehension, the caution to the man who slid over to them out of a crowd that had watched them bring a man to submission for the crimes he had committed.

“Call me Mousie, Mousie Ericsson. I have one dream.” He spoke, moving to the side where he picked up a cane that was leaning against one of the pillars that supported the roof and twirled it around in his hand. When the tip fell to the floor with a gentle click two pops like small gunshots could be heard as a large banner unfurled. The banner decorated with blue writing and sparkles read; ‘The World’s Greatest Showman!’ The cane twirled again, and the other end tapped the floor and music started to play from it. A quick tempo trumpet beat.

Mika was watching this from the edge of her seat, her tail wagging for the show, her ears perked up to hear everything and her eyes scanning everything. She didn’t know what was on the big banner that had dropped down with confetti, but it was damn flashy and fun looking. Her eyes were everywhere and hanging on the man’s next words.

“To be the greatest showman on earth! And to do that I have decided to dedicate myself to an up-and-coming band of do gooding adventurers to really make their feats pop on the world stage!” The suited man announced his voice upbeat with the music, his arms spreading wide to draw attention to himself and the banner just behind him. “And Mika, the Angel of Purity and her hands of justice,” He announced in a grand tone before lowering his voice to whisper. “That’s you two Chase and Bassanio.” His voice went back to the grandeur it had before. “Are going to clean the air of Dauntaun for the people and so they can see the moon on a land that hasn’t seen the night sky in generations! It makes my heart sing!”

Mika stood up off of her seat and was on her tip toes with her hands in the air, her tail wagging fast enough to destroy whatever it would impact. “I like him!” She spoke looking over each of her shoulders to the men on either side. “If he can help us do it faster then I say he can help!”

---

Post: 2

Mika: acd1fc

Mousie: efff9b

Leenie: ffd1f6

[Bobbie]

Chase couldn’t help but glance at Bassanio for a moment, irritated by how... proper... absolutely everything that came out of the man’s mouth just always had to sound. His head bobbed slightly as his mouth opened to take a deep breath and sigh the air back out, his chin still fixed on the ball of his hand that made the gesture somewhat awkward to execute with the limited movement of his lower jaw.

As he resisted rolling his eyes, he watched the man introduce himself. Mousie Ericsson... Sounds like something Mika might make up, he thought to himself, but he didn’t hate it. It was a catchy name and sounded like a pretty interesting tag. Chase’s gaze followed the man as he moved to pick up a cane that he hadn’t noticed before and then twirl it through the air. Immediately, that elicited an eyebrow-raise from Chase, who, perhaps out of fear for his own safety, shifted out of his forward position to sit back in his chair again as two loud pops filled the air and a large banner unfurled out of nowhere.

Staring at the man, Chase was having a hard time taking him seriously, his eyes open more widely than before now and his lips curled into something of a smirk. It felt like he was sitting the audience of a circus - it was definitely captivating, if nothing else. Glancing at his companions, he wondered if they found it all as ridiculous as he did.

Of course, Mika seemed to be loving it. Both eyebrows raised and his head at an angle now as if mentally challenging the situation with a silent ‘really?', he watched Mika sit at the edge of her seat, her eyes travelling across the scene to absorb everything, though he doubted she really absorbed more than a glimpse of every single inch of this man’s spectacle, judging by the speed at which her eyes were darted all over the place. Her ears were perked up like a dog’s that had just been summoned for their favourite treats, and her tail... that just looked deadly as it whipped at such an alarming speed. She’s definitely buying into all of this...

His attention was drawn back to the skillful orator, who already seemed to have names for them - the Angel of Purity and her hands of justice. Chase tilted his head back, his eyebrows somehow rising higher as he offered a very slow and sceptical nod, his eyes narrowed.

But is he? Chase turned his head to look at Bassanio, the man with the most infuriatingly perfect language he had ever heard. He was tempted to suggest that this Mousie character posed some sort of threat for that title - perhaps not elaborate enough to match his, this man clearly had the language skills to sway an audience and the moves to surpass Chef Rosencrantz in flashiness for sure... but flashiness wasn’t strived for by everyone. Not everybody’s hearts sang the way this odd performer’s seemed to.

Once again resuming his attention to Mousie, he mulled over what the businessman proposed. It didn’t seem like there was much to lose, he seemed to be offering his assistance with no real catch. What was more, if he were such a good representative, good enough to pull off such a stunning impromptu show, then Chase himself had more to benefit from him too - the further their name travelled, the higher the chances would be of Master Ghouil receiving the recognition that Chase was convinced he deserved. Before he could voice any of this, Mika was up on her feet, her seat empty and abandoned behind her.

He nodded in silence for a moment, then he shrugged and finally he smiled. “Yeah, he looks like a guy who can get things done.” he said, as despite all the showiness of this man, he certainly had one thing that Chase simply had to love, something that was missing in so many aimless wanderers in Dauntaun. “He’s got spirit!”

---

Chase: #eacce2

[Vio]

^{Bassanio #2}

---

Rosencrantz Bassanio watched in blank, though tepid amazement as Mousie Ericsson introduced himself properly. The pops of something releasing caused a banner to descend from the ceiling, accompanied by the type of musical prelude one would expect of a medieval court when an esteemed guest entered. He resisted the urge to perform a double facepalm as Mousie announced his intentions, but was absolutely taken aback by how readily Mika accepted it. Perhaps she didn’t fully grasp the man’s intentions, though her naïveté was at the very least refreshing enough to temper his bitterness.

Drawing attention to ourselves might not be the best idea, but… Bass pondered, gently grabbing his chin between forefinger and thumb for a moment as he pieced together the potential puzzle as best he could. There was a time and a place for bravado and flamboyance. That said, he had to silently admit that Mousie was a hard man to read, despite supposedly wearing his heart on his sleeve. No. No, perhaps it is better I learn to actually place my trust in someone — to make a spectacle of something doesn’t infer ill intent. Besides, he’s–

^{“He’s got spirit!”}

“…You seem to have thought these theatrics through quite thoroughly,” the blond chef said, focusing on Mister Ericsson whilst making a mental note never to try saying that sentence again. “But, might I ask how you intend to assist us in this endeavour, Mister Ericsson? You’ve been honest in your goal and intent, but presentation is only one part of the whole that Mika, Chase, and myself strive for now,” he elaborated with a certain air of uncertainty about the pompous performer. He held his breath, half expecting another theatrical display…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>A chilled Bassanio takes the approach of Mousie with a grain of metaphorical salt.

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Rosencrantz Bassanio | #add8e6
Mika Gooddog | #acd1fc
Chase Guillard | #eacce2
Mousie [NPC] | #efff9b
Old Frosty [NPC] | #a7137f

[Kami-Gaz]

The question came at Mousie and his smile twisted into something of pride as he pounded a fist to his chest as he stood at attention, as he did his other hand bounced the cane off of the floor and the music stopped. He looked directly at Mika and tipped the point of his Cane to the winged girl, her faint halo providing dim illumination for her smiling face.

“I’ve studied what Mika’s salt can do. And with that information I formulated this plan.” He spoke as he watched Mika point to herself as her wagging tail slowed, how did he get a plan by just watching her salt?

“How?” The dog eared girl asked with a tile to her head towards the man, the inquisitiveness in her eyes evident as she inspected him from top to bottom again. This Mousie was smart, and very funny.

“Why Miss Gooddog. I saw what Mr Greystone was doing to you, I watched from a far planning away to get to you to pull you free. I did not expect you to find your hands of justice to deliver the man to the rightful path with a sound beating.” He spoke before walking over and grabbing the final chair that was leaning against the column and flicking it out so he could sit across from the group at a more equal level. Once he was his showman façade lowered just a bit.

“I know your salt purifies the air; I think the toxic chemicals at least. Like now, your wings and halo aren’t burning at all. The air in here is clean.” Mousie explained raising his hands to gesture around. “I want to fill hundreds of barrels with your salt, strap a timed firework to the bottom and launch all of them into the sky to explode at once. With you putting on a show of clearing the sky. At the same time that happens, we get workers to destroy the factories, all of them if it’s possible. That way the sky will stay pure for longer.” He spoke, waving his hand before leaning back and crossing his arms. “Chase, Bassanio… While Mika is filling salt barrels can you two go between the factories to spread the word? This is a revolution, so the people need to see you two doing this. Mika will be nearby for ones we think are more problematic.” Mousie spoke, finally laying out the plan he had concocted, adding Chase and Bassanio into it for the best effect. They were known associates of the Pure Angel.

Mika nodded along the entire time to the man’s words, it sounded like he had thought of a really solid plan… something she would struggle with. After a face full of thought she nodded. “If this makes it quicker and easier than I say we do this. But Mr Mouseman… Teach me more about being human… I will get bored in here filling barrels!”

---

Post: 3

Mika: acd1fc

Mousie: efff9b

Leenie: ffd1f6

[Bobbie]

Chase turned his attention away from Mika and back onto Mousie, though he was starting to get restless and he shifted in his seat.

It all sounded great, in theory. Mika would essentially distract the crowds with her grand spectacle of a burning sky alight, as well as initiate a new day, the town’s starting point to a new life that began with a breath of actual fresh air. Meanwhile, Chase and Bassanio would have to work together to go round the factories and ensure that they would be shut down, bandying all workers together in protest if need be to prevent Mika’s performance being in vain and the cleaned air being replaced with more toxic fumes.

There were two great issues with that plan that Chase could see, instantly. The first was, perhaps, the most obvious. The rose-haired young man looked at Bassanio. They would need to work together… he could appreciate the chef’s skills, having already caught what Chase was sure was only a glimpse of his fighting skills when they were up against Greystone and his henchmen, but that was a time when they were both doing their separate things, really. A task as delicate as this one needed the pair to be on the same page, even if that was only for appearances to maintain the facade of being a team, and he wasn’t quite sure how easily either of them could pull that off. He could already imagine the elaborate strings of words being thrown his way from the mighty blond’s mouth, words that would undoubtedly require decoding before they could be understood. His eyes narrowed at the thought… though it might be a challenge, they could figure out a way to make it work... then his eyes rolled over to Mousie again as he considered the second problem…

“We might not have enough manpower to take over a factory of workers if the numbers are not in our favour…” he explained, trying to word his concern cautiously. “There will be people in there who have heard of us and would easily be on our side, willing to cooperate with no fuss, but we have no guarantee that there will be more of those than workers who are against us… those who aren’t easily swayed by such a surreal possibility of the air in this place actually being cleansed - it’s unheard of, I wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t believe it. Not to mention any who depend on their work to make a living for themselves and their families, even if they believe what we're trying to do here is possible, might be resistant. Shutting down the factories will be great for all citizens, but it will also leave many out of work.” Pausing, he shifted in his seat again, crossing a leg over the other again. “I’m all for this idea, but we need a back up plan in case things don’t quite work out as planned… I don’t really fancy being held captive by some angry factory workers and being thrown into a boiler room or some freezer to starve to death.” Of course, they would have Mika as back up, but Mika couldn't be everywhere at all times - she was either going to be filling barrels or sticking close by. "Numbers weren't an issue last time, but moving around a large factory is a significantly larger scale than a narrow street..."

First, he looked at Mika. She was great, but a little more... impulsive. Despite having vowed to follow her in this mission, he found himself turning to Bassanio next, expecting a less emotional response from him - he was very unlike Mika Gooddog. A cold stare usually comes from the man's blue eyes that could pierce through steel, surely he'll have a carefully calculated and articulated answer...

---

Chase: #eacce2

[Vio]

^{Bassanio #3}

---

“We might not have enough manpower,” Chase stressed, highlighting opposition to this grandiose plan that Mousie had contrived from little more than observation and a wild dream. It was all true. Every word he said was another chop at the trunk of this plan, but after he’d brought up the concerns of scale, his eyes turned to face Bassanio as if searching for something. All the while, the chef had been pondering all of the implications that his company had highlighted. But then, he had a thought.

“…Barrels of salt? Just how much gunpowder do you have to launch entire kegs full into the sky?” he queried, aware of one fact that might sway their decisions. “Even if Chase and I were to succeed in our endeavour — and you do raise some extremely valid points,” he commented while giving a nod to his often contradictory companion, “the scale of such things could end up causing hysteria. Massive explosions going off in the sky, setting it aflame? Sure, at least some percentage of the population are aware, but not everyone is, and acting fast is our prerogative.” Mister Rosencrantz leaned back in his chair, eyes first upon Mister Ericsson, then shifting to Mika.

Something twisted inside of him.

“Even then, the first hurdle is exactly as Chase said: Revolution of any sort doesn’t always appeal to the common masses,” he spoke more calmly, pausing a moment to recollect his thoughts and tally them against what was being suggested. “Maybe we’ll have some success with the first factory or two? I couldn’t say for sure. The other problem is that in spreading the word, we have to anticipate that the more disgruntled factory workers and CEOs may end up doing the same, which could slow our progress.” Concerns voiced, Bass found himself at a bit of an impasse. For all their hurdles, did the benefits outweigh them? A temporary measure it would be, sure, but if it was to give the people something? Strangely, he was swayed.

^{“Now, I would be entirely for a back-up plan,” he added:
“But in this case, I think our numbers are too few…”}

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>As they discuss their plans, Bassanio adds his own concerns to the list, but cannot fathom a back-up plan!

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Rosencrantz Bassanio | #add8e6
Mika Gooddog | #acd1fc
Chase Guillard | #eacce2
Mousie [NPC] | #efff9b
Old Frosty [NPC] | #a7137f

[Kami-Gaz]

The man known as Mousie heard the troubles of the other men regarding his plan he nodded, he had given them the rough outline and they had seen the holes in it that most would find. Gunpowder and manpower being the main issues that the pair had. He looked to Mika who was sat staring at him with deep consideration on her face, was he losing her or was she trying to find a solution?

“Good holes in my plan to spot, and for that I am going to be dumping a considerable sum of my own capital to precure the gunpowder and manpower necessary to create the Salt Barrels. I hereby announce that this is coming out of my own good will towards the Angel of Purity and her hands of justice.” He spoke, shifting to stride along the row chairs in a grand movement.

“That’s money stuff right?” Mika asked with a finger to her chin in thought as her ears stood on end and her head tilted. The tail had stopped as her excitement was now tempered by her deep thought. “You’re paying for it all because you trust us? THAT’S REALLY KIND MOUSIE!” Mika shouted as she rose from her chair and embraced the man in a grand hug that lifted him from the floor.

The suited man’s eyes bulged from his sockets as the air left his lungs, his legs kicked in a pathetic flail. “Y-yes! I am putting my entire life on this plan for you Mika~.” He managed to even make his wheezed out words sound poetically musical.

“You’re a very good man.” Mika said, gently putting the man down and folding her wings back around her body instead of using them in the hug as she had done. Salt crystals clung to the suit and shimmered in the light.

It took a moment for Mousie to get his breath back but when he did, he looked at Chase directly. “We don’t need entire factories. We need a few key individuals that know how to do the most damage.” He stretched his arms out in a shrug. “Heck, you could go and spend some nights drinking away in the local watering holes and build a bond of brotherhood with the workers. Some must harbor resentment to their bosses and the conditions of the island, we can use that.”

Mika nodded along with the plan liking it, her tail slowly starting to sway again as her eyes scanned her companions that helped her earlier. ”I don’t like this money thing that causes all of these people to work in the places that make the air so bad. If they are all like Mr Moustache Greyson then they must hate working there too.”

Mousie pushed his cane up and chuckled. “This is a revolution boys, if we manage to get the factories destroyed, the air cleaned… the people of the island should realise now is the time to push to make their lot in life better. And it is all because of you three.” He said, flashing his most award-winning smile.

---

Post: 4

Mika: acd1fc

Mousie: efff9b

Leenie: ffd1f6

[Bobbie]

Mousie put forward his counterargument to both Chase’s own concerns as well as Bassanio’s. The air between them seemed to fluctuate, at least from Chase’s perspective. Loyal as he was to his old master, his absence left a hole in Chase’s heart that was temporarily assuaged by the approval of others, although he would never admit such a fault in his character. The acknowledgement from Bassanio that his concerns were valid, from a man he deemed a worthy opponent and perhaps an ally almost as worthy, made the young man sit up with pride. As the conversation continued to flow on this note to address said concerns, Chase listened attentively.

While he didn’t question that she was listening, Mika was certainly one who had trouble sitting still - and it made perfect sense. He did not, however, expect her to stand up and nearly crush the man to death in such a display of gratitude and affection. For a moment, the expression on Chase’s face was one of sheer pain as he empathised with the man that faced the strength of her grasp, the life nearly squeezed out of him. Then he wheezed out his words, and Chase couldn’t stop a chuckle that escaped him.

Without saying a word, he nodded in agreement to what Mika said as she praised Mousie. He didn’t dare open his mouth to use his words to express the same sentiment as he was worried that what started as a subtle chuckle would escalate into an outburst that may come across as offensive.

The moment passed and Mousie continued to offer a very helpful suggestion. Chase narrowed his eyes somewhat uncomfortably at first. He could think of a couple of reasons not to mingle with the common crowd, but if they wanted this to work, then he would have to push those reasons aside and try to build relationships. It was just as Mousie said, using their own resentment toward the current state of their work and quality of life to their advantage was a wise move.

As Mika spoke again, Chase found himself nodding in agreement, meeting her gaze as he looked back at her. Turning back to Mousie once more, the man’s contagious smile spread onto Chase's face as the rose-haired youth grinned. “Sounds like a good place to start.”

---

Chase: #eacce2

[Vio]

^{Bassanio #4}

---

… Bassanio didn’t like this. But he did. What he had mentally prepared himself to be taken as a hard sell had instead found the one hole in his armour, much to the man’s personal dissatisfaction. He’d never been one for showmanship and grandeur, despite the prestigious position that his family’s restaurant had held amongst the masses and classes, but Mousie’s own dedication to the cause was admirable. This was a man with money and resources — a type of man that the chef had come to despise — but had shattered any and all expectations with a proclamation unlike any other.

Though he hid it, he was taken aback.

“Sadly, Mika, money is an integral facet of society,” Mister Rosencrantz explained, perhaps letting his own disgust for that fact eke out a little in his words. “Food, shelter, hygiene — money is at the root of it all. That said,” he continued, closing his eyes for a moment so as to remove the glazed and mournful look that was starting to form within the windows of his soul, “it’s not an absolute. If people are willing to break the wheel over keeping it turning, then there’s definitely a chance…” Maybe he was reflecting. A part of him that wanted to rebel against life’s criminally legal ways seeking an out.

“Alright,” he caved. “You have my hand in this endeavour, Mister Ericsson. Chase,” he turned, now standing and facing his companion in this curious act. “I can think of a few bars about the city that seem to be frequented by factory workers, so hopefully we can make the rounds… Come to think of it, there’s a handful that stopped by to place orders the other day.” He remembered a couple of scruffier gentlemen, well-built from hard labour and looking like a good bath wouldn’t have gone amiss. Admittedly, he was unsure of their stance on their jobs, but now was not the time to close his mind to possibilities…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>After some concerns are addressed, Bassanio throws his lot in!

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Rosencrantz Bassanio | #add8e6
Mika Gooddog | #acd1fc
Chase Guillard | #eacce2
Mousie Ericsson [NPC] | #efff9b
Old Frosty [NPC] | #a7137f

[Kami-Gaz]

Mika leaned back against the wall by the young girl and watched her, Leenie had coughed a few times while Mika told her story, and it was starting to concern her. With a light grunt of exertion, she stood from sitting on her rear haunches and pitter pattered the few steps closer. In a sudden shift her entire body changed to that of a very tall humanoid girl with wings and a halo… and the dog like features of a tail and fluffy ears.

With eyes wide in astonishment the young girl let her mouth fall open as the large pair of flaming wings enveloped her, washing her with a purifying fire that wiped out all the toxins in her body. It felt amazing to feel so clean and refreshed. The damage to the girl’s lungs was still done but for now she could breathe easier. “Mika you're the angel!?” She asked in a excited tone, pushing forward to hug the tall dark skinned girl that was kneeling before her.

“Shhh! Mr Mousie said I can’t show myself just in case bad guys spot me!” Mika said before her entire body shifted back into the form of a dog, the tail wagging as her ears were perked up and backwards making it look like her maw was grinning. She sat again, her tail still wagging a mile a minute.

“Anyway- Mr Mousie said that it was going to take a day to get all the stuff he needed for me to fill the barrels. So, he sent all of us to the pub to start making the people like us.” She spoke, her eyes drifting to the side as she remembered the events…

---

The sounds of a dog walking were always evident wherever Mika went in her natural form, it was the sound of her paws and claws gently scraping on the cobbles of the streets and alleys around this district. It felt odd walking this way, following Mr Bassanio. He knew where this pub thing was, Mika had no clue what a pub was or what it was used for. About an hour had passed since talking to Mousie in the warehouse and he was doing what he called busy work.

“I’ve never been to a pub before! What’s it like?” The dog asked, her head tilting up slightly towards her companions. Her fur was a pristine white, even in these smoggy alleys and dirty streets. “I like Mr Mousie, he is funny but smart and determined.” She spoke absently, reflecting on the plan somewhat as the sounds of cheering and clinking mugs could be heard in the near distance.

Mika had been told to not walk around the streets in any form other than her dog form. It was the best way to hide where she was and keep suspicious people away from them. When in the pubs and people were warming up then she could go ahead and be what ever she wanted, he had actively encouraged it to give Chase and Bassanio help in persuading the people in their cause.

---

Post: 5

Mika: acd1fc

Mousie: efff9b

Leenie: ffd1f6

[Bobbie]

“Alright, alright… but none of that explains how you ended up in here. So far, it’s all been a plan to gain followers, not make enemies.” Old Frosty interrupted the story which Bassanio had started telling. “Which one of you fudged up?”

“Some people blend in with a crowd of drinking baboons better than others, what can I say?”  Chase quickly snapped at the man and then looked away from everyone, hiding his shame behind a snide remark. While he never had a name for it, his kleptomania was his greatest flaw that he could even bring himself to resent his creator just a little bit for not fixing in him. Now sitting with his back to the cold freezer wall and his feet firmly on the floor, he let his arms rest on his knees as he sighed.

“Anyway, I was cautious of going there to begin with, it was a bad idea.” He paused and looked at Bassanio. He considered offering an apology again, which may been reflected in his eyes, but was always too proud to utter the words. “Go on…”

---

The hour that came after their meeting with Mousie was a difficult one for Chase, as no amount of fidgeting with gadgets really calmed his nerves, although he felt he was doing a good enough job of hiding it on the outside. Bassanio had claimed to know a couple of bars with familiar faces, none that he himself would recognise, but perhaps Bassanio's familiarity would help to diffuse the situation if things went wrong.

As they approached the bar, he tried to distract himself from his worries, but thinking about them only seemed to trigger more anxiety. An effective distraction came from Mika, as her little paws made a calming pitter-patter sound that was repetitive enough to follow with his own steps. Then she spoke.

Chase looked down at the fluffy white dog, his hands in pockets that he had emptied along the way, leaving only his reliable garrotte, wound up securely, inside his coat pocket. “Being in a pub?” he asked, before shrugging, his padded jacket rising with his mechanical shoulders. “Crowded and usually unpleasant. That sensitive nose of yourself will probably not have a very good time and chances are that your ears won’t either.” He replied with a hint of spite in his tone. “Pubs are where people...” he was about to get into a condescending rant about his distaste for drunkards, clearly considering them inferior not only to himself as a masterful creation and artwork, but also to the rest of society. If he had to explain his philosophy, then people fell into different levels of status, even if they didn’t know it, and those who subjected themselves to the effects of alcohol on a daily basis were nowhere near the top.

However, he held his tongue and didn’t go any further as it was this very attitude that he needed to suppress from the workers if he wanted to gain their support.

“I don’t go to pubs, it’s not usually my scene. Bassanio might have a better answer for you, considering he’s familiar with the clientele…”

---

Old Frosty: #a7137f
Chase: #eacce2

[Vio]

^{Bassanio #5}

---

Cold was starting to set in. Into his skin, his breath, his bones. Yet despite the horrid situation of being locked in a freezer, Mister Rosencrantz was doing well to resist the malign influence of hypothermia. Good circulation was keeping his extremities warm enough, kept in check by various simple workouts and a complete lack of desire to sit still as the others did. By this point, he was casually boxing against one of the slabs of meat hung from the ceiling hooks, taking care not to actually strike the chilled carcass and instead using it as a sort of point of reference for his movements.

^{“Alright, alright,” the old worker grumbled:
“Which one of you fudged up…?”}

“…What can I say?” Chase sighed, perhaps knowing he did wrong. Bassanio ignored it — what good could come of berating the man for failing when the blame was just as much upon his own shoulders? Attentiveness and due caution could have done them both the world of good, but it was a combination of personal flaws that had been the duo’s downfall. That, and Chase made a point: Neither were exactly cultural chameleons. “It was a bad idea,” he added, looking to the chef who now assessed those present.

^{“Stand up,” he gestured:
“Keep moving. Trust me.”}

^{“Go on…”}

“Well, if you’re so curious,” the blond exhaled, noting now the much more minimal plume that escaped his lips. Time was wearing thin now that the only air being inhaled was chilled. All the more reason to stay active. “It wasn’t a complete disaster, but it was a rocky start…”

^{—— NEAR THE SMITHY’S ARMS PUB ——}

“I’ve never been to a pub before!” Mika barked, accompanied the men in canine camouflage. Really, she still stood out like a sore thumb, but better man’s best friend than a bringing of purging flame. The establishment in question was far from a fanciful place, but it certainly fit the bill of the ‘labourer’s dive’. “What’s it like?” she asked, the angel in disguise, as they walked the streets of Dauntaun.

^{“Crowded and usually unpleasant,” Mister Guillard explained:
“Bassanio might have a better answer for you, considering…”}

“I wouldn’t put too much hope in my familiarity, Chase,” Mister Rosencrantz uttered as he caught the sounds of chatter and laughter on the stale winds. “Paying customers are paying customers,” he added, noting his own air as he spoke those words. Well and truly, the necessities of business had dug their claws deep into his own soul, to the point where only recent wake-up calls had alerted him to the diseases such claws carried. He silently accosted his own mentality before focusing on his companion’s question.

“Have you ever been to a restaurant, Mika?” He expected the answer would be ‘no’ and continued. “They’re places where people pay for food and drink, usually of good quality and high price — there are exceptions,” he added, perhaps unnecessarily, as he drowned out his philosophies and flashes of burning ruin. “A pub is similar to a restaurant, but rather than just serving meals, they serve alcoholic beverages as well. They’re cheaper than restaurants and most people visit them with friends, but sometimes drink too much and–”

^Slam!

“And stay out!” a voice bellowed, accompanying the vision of a man rolling across the street until he was flat on his back, gazing up at the grey sky. No doubt his vision was swimming, if not from the dizzying delivery then from the likely absurd quantities of booze he’d consumed. A labourer by the looks of it, still a bit sweaty and mucky from a day’s work, with a poorly shaved jawline of sooty stubble. Apparently, the man’s violent exit didn’t deter him from drunken stupor as he sprang to his unsteady feet and began to walk the streets in a rousing rendition of what Bassanio assumed was supposed to be Binks’ Brew. If only the tempo matched and the lyrics were intelligible.

“Mm,” the chef grimaced, the disdain of visiting such a place clearly visible upon his physiognomy. Something, however, seemed to subdue his desire to ignore the place immediately, conveyed when he looked to Chase and to Mika with strangely ambiguous eyes. “It can’t be, can it?” Though he didn’t actually speak it, his lips moved all the same in a clear, intelligible way. Either it was a case of mistaken identity, or someone familiar to him was actually present. “Come. I feel this is as good a place to start as any,” he said, holding the door for his company before following them inside…

---

SPOILER: Click to show

{Post Synposis:—}
<sub>As Bassanio tries to stay warm, he continues to recount the tale.

Notes:— ——</sub>

---

Rosencrantz Bassanio | #add8e6
Mika Gooddog | #acd1fc
Chase Guillard | #eacce2
Mousie Ericsson [NPC] | #efff9b
??? [NPC] | #6eb974
Old Frosty [NPC] | #a7137f