FA+
Shop
5111 submissions
The Rise of the Raccoon Queen
Or The Big Grey Fluffy Butt Matter
A Story of Faerie
© 2020 by M. Mitchell Marmel
(Additional characters by E.O. Costello and W.D. Reimer.)
Thumbnail art by
technicolor_pie, color by 
Major Matt Mason
Part Thirty-four.
Jhonni:
Expense account addendum: three stars, forty dusks, for drinks and dinner at Sunset Grill and Brewers.
My note to Quill Fletcher apparently caused a little bit of a stir, and I suspected that Sage and Winterbough had also been busy. I discovered this when I had three furs show up at Old Man Sunset’s place as I was sitting down to a vegetable frittata and a mug of Sunset’s Best.
I heard a flutter and made a show of looking all around before looking down. “Oh, hello, Quill. I didn’t see you at first.”
The ptarmigan had a couple folks with him, notable my friend Flowers from the City Clerk’s Office, and a beagle I recognized right away.
So did a few old bumps and bruises.
“Hi, Maylon,” I said to the squirrel, but I was looking at the beagle. “Les Dater. Long time, never wanted to see again.”
Dater smirked. I have no idea how he got promoted all the way to Deputy Inspector. He’d only been an Assistant Maker of Threatening Gestures when he and a group of his fellow constables took turns at me back when Alastair was alive. “Dinar,” he said. “Nice to be remembered – of course, I remember you.” He pulled up a chair facing me across the table, with Quill to his left and Maylon to his right, effectively boxing me into the corner.
Dammit.
“Fletcher here,” Dater jerked a thumb at Quill, “tells me that you know something about Strangely Brown taking a dive out a window.”
“Yeah. I think he was trying to fly. Of course, the trick to flying is missing hitting the ground.” I took a drink of my beer. “Geffert was the guy who suggested the flight instructor.”
“Does this have anything to do with the wolfess and the buck you sent to talk with me and Parrott?” Maylon asked, and the squirrel’s tail twitched when I nodded. “How?”
A barmaid came over and Dater said, “We’ll all have beer. He’s buying,” he added, pointing at me.
Dammit.
After the drinks arrived and the barmaid sashayed off, I reached into my Elfintory and placed what Winterbough had called a St. Reynard’s medal on the table. “The same cat who taught Strangely to fly tried for me. Found this in his Elfintory, and Winterbough identified it as coming from a country called Vulpitania.”
Dater’s ears went up. “Never heard of it.”
“They’re not from around here,” I said, “but there’s a possibility that they’re behind a fellow named Byrde who’s running for the Council.”
Maylon’s tail went straight up. “That-That’s impossible!” he sputtered.
“Under the Brilliant Light,” I said, “nothing’s impossible.” We all fell quiet after I said that.
“If only,” Maylon finally ventured, “the Wolf Queen was here.” I was about to agree with him when I heard Dater give a huff, and glanced at him in time to see his ears droop. “Yes, Inspector?” my friend asked.
“Right now,” Dater said in a put-upon tone, “we’re literally up to our eyes in Wolf Queens, along with Weasel Queens, Lion Queens, Bear Queens, what have you. We even have a Raccoon Queen, with a naked otteress sidekick, mind you. They foiled a robbery a couple days ago.” He tapped a finger on the handle of his tankard. “Funny thing, that.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“Yeah. One of my officers is a magic-user, and he said her armor was from the Long Ago and way more magical than anything the others are wearing for the Festival.” He eyed me. “These two furs you talked to, Sage and Winterbough, right? What are they planning to do?”
“I haven’t talked to them lately,” I said. “They’re supposed to meet me here before Deliverance Day.”
***
Winterbough:
We went back to DelFurrio’s for dinner and to compare notes. I kept at least half an eye on Missy, just in case she decided to get playful again with that stick of hers.
I was more than a little surprised to see the Raccoon Queen and Ooo-er there, but not surprised at all that the otter femme studiously ignored the wolfess in the room. To her, at least, Missy couldn’t have been more invisible if she’d been thinking of mushrooms. Still, the wolfess’ appetite seemed to have improved a little, and for a while there were just the sounds of people eating.
At one point, Tessie (who’d been eating a small salad, and looking like she was hating every mouthful) glanced up at Fred. “I saw you at the rally this afternoon.”
The canine raised an eyebrow. “I thought I was blending into the audience pretty well. How did you spot me?”
“The fake mustache,” my erstwhile maid replied, and giggled.
Ooo-er leaned over and whispered in Tali’s ear, and the feline femme looked surprised before nodding. She rapped on the table with her knuckles and said, “Ooo-er and the Raccoon Queen have discovered a piece of information, but it’s for a very select audience.” She smiled at Matt and added, “That means that if you’re a mel, get out.”
Well, that was a surprise, but I had been about to leave anyway. “I have to meet with Jhonni Dinar.”
“All right if I come with you?” Matt asked, and I nodded.
“What about us?” Michael asked, indicating Fred and himself.
Tali grimaced. “We’re dealing with a political campaign, and we still have a day or two before voting starts. I want,” and she took a breath to steel herself, “I want you two to plan and start a negative campaign.”
The mink and the dog both said, “Oooh.”
The looks on their faces were . . . frightening.
Michael drew himself to his feet and took off his boater, holding it to his chest as he declaimed:
“’Okay,’ I said, ‘let’s learn and note
The art of politics.
Let’s teach you how to miss the boat
And how to drop some bricks,
And how to win the people’s vote
And lots of other tricks.’”
Not to be outdone, Fred stood and said,
‘’Let’s learn to make a speech a day
Upon the T.V. screen,
In which you never never say
Exactly what you mean.
And most important, by the way,
Is not to let your teeth decay,
And keep your fingers clean.’”
The two linked arms and set off to one of the many rooms in the back of the tailor shop, saying in unison:
“And now that I am eighty-nine,
It’s too late to repent.
The fault was mine the little swine
Became the President.”*
I shook my head and left with Matt to see the giraffe.
Twits.
***
Tali:
About midway through the raccoon and the otter’s description of what went on at the rally, I realized why they’d asked for all the men to leave the room. Yes, this conversation was definitely for ladies only.
In fact . . .
[Note appended to manuscript: “In accordance with Temporal Corps Policy Directive FO-27581 point 5d slash 418, part XIV, paragraph 27, extract 4a, this information has been redacted.”]
[Note appended to manuscript: “Which extract was that again?”]
[Note appended to manuscript: “4a.”]
[Note appended to manuscript: “Oh. That one.”]
Missy had her chin in her paw while Ooo-er and the Raccoon Queen were talking, and her tail was switching back and forth. She suddenly asked, “How was the crowd reacting to him? Not what he said, but how he was moving?”
Ooo-er looked intently at her mate and suddenly recoiled in surprise at an answering glare from the wolfess. She started to stammer something aloud but the raccoon replied, “They seemed a lot more enthusiastic than the others.”
Missy’s glare swung to the Raccoon Queen. “How so?”
“More clapping, louder cheers,” the sow replied.
A curt nod. “Was it more mels than femmes?”
The raccoon thought for a moment, but it was Ooo-er who replied. “More mels.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Missy sat back, stroking her chin again. “What?” I finally asked.
“If he didn’t learn it . . . the nephew of the Master’s liege-lord refers to the Master’s apparent ability to seduce unwary femmes as ‘his sick Elfhamian mojo.’ Whether Byrde learned it or it’s innate, he’s obviously using it to sway people to vote for him.”
The raccooness nodded, her voice sounding rather flat. “Almost Unseelie.”
The look in Missy’s eyes hardened. “Agreed.”
“Which makes stopping him and whatever plan the Vulpitanians have all the more important,” I said. “Is there anything else?” I asked the otter and the raccoon.
They shook their heads. Ooo-er started to stand up. “I think we should be going,” she said quietly, giving Missy a very significant glance that the wolfess returned in spades. Tessie just looked disturbed, and the two of them left.
When the door closed I asked the wolfess, “What was that all about?”
“Hm?”
“Come off it. I may not be able to read minds, but the looks you two were giving each other were pretty damned obvious.”
Missy sighed and slumped in her seat. “She – she wanted to talk. About us.”
“Yes?”
She put a paw over her eyes. “I told,” and her voice caught, “I told her that we’d discuss it later . . . after all this was over.” She blinked back tears. “Business before pleasure, you know?”
I reached over and patted her shoulder. “That was hard to say, I’ll imagine.”
“It was.” She sniffed hard and gave me a look. “But I also told her that I wasn’t going to share your bed, or you mine. I’ve messed up, and I’m not going to make it worse.”
I nodded. “Good.” We sat there a moment, and she chuckled. “What?”
“I want to thank you for that baton you gave me.” Her smile was nasty, and I like it. “It was useful on the Master’s arse.”
“Not the same reach as your bardiche, though,” I said, and she nodded. “Tell me, what other weapons are you good with?”
“Ah, well . . . hmm, knife, spear – I was trained in the sword by the best warriors in Artemisiaford; I’m sadly average in the use of the bow. And, of course, Sun-and-Moon. I got very good with that.” She smiled fondly at some memory or other, and glanced at me. “Why?”
I smoothed my ears back with a paw. “I think that if it comes to a fight, you might need something more than that baton. Come on,” I said as I stood up, “another trip to the armory.”
We headed into the back rooms of the back rooms and I accessed the armory. “We’ve got a variety of swords here,” I said, waving a paw at the racks while the wolfess practically drooled. “Everything from the simple,” and I pointed at a Roman gladius, “to the just plain silly,” and I gestured at a two-pawed greatsword that was easily two yards long and weighed maybe fifty pounds minus the jewels that adorned the hilt. There was even a sword that had three blades (the two on either side can be shot at your opponent; I refer to my previous remark about ‘silly’).
Missy was testing the balance on a katana when I jerked a thumb at a closed door. “And then we have what’s in there.”
“What’s in there?” she asked.
“Sentient weapons.” The wolfess raised her eyebrows and perked her ears as I entered the code and opened the specially soundproofed door.
Why soundproofed?
“About time!”
“Use me, use me!”
“I thirst for blood, mortal! Let us go kill!”
“Oh, DO shut up! Souls are much tastier than blood!”
“Tongues of fire on Idris flaring / News of foemen near declaring – “
“Shut up!”
“No, YOU shut up!”
“Shut up shutting up!”
“When the deep purple falls / Over sleepy garden walls – “
I closed the door and dug a fingertip into my ear. “They tend to get a little loud if no one’s used them in a while.”
She was standing there gobsmacked, one eye twitching. “They’re – intelligent?”
“Yeah, for given value of ‘intelligent.’ Why?”
“Sun-and-Moon was intelligent, but it never spoke.”
“Maybe it didn’t have anything to say,” I said. “We keep that part of the armory carefully soundproofed. They tend to get very bitchy at each other if they haven’t been used in a while. It’s a small hazard of having so many sentient weapons from various alternities.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” and I leaned against the door. “We had one interlude where they started playing The Dozens. That did NOT end well.”
“’The Dozens?’”
“Insult fights.”
Her ears perked. “Ah. I’ve heard there are certain regions in Faerie that do that.” She hadn’t put the katana back. “I’d like to borrow this, if I may.”
I smiled. “Of course.” I was sure that Hanzo-sama would respect where the gift was bestowed.
“You know,” Missy ventured, “I’ve been thinking.”
“I’ll bet.”
“About our encounter . . . with Fuma.”
“Oh.” I smiled again. One doesn’t forget that, and I suddenly felt the need to hug someone. “What were you thinking about?”
“I think,” Missy said, measuring her words carefully, “that we dispelled the Gap and headed here to Eastness because we were meant to.”
“Fuma directed us?”
She nodded. “It’s too much of a coincidence, don’t you think? We arrive here, in a regenerated and recovered Eastness, just in time to encounter a plot to subvert the government.” She grinned, showing all her teeth. “We’re on a mission from Fuma!”
I laughed and held my paws up to frame her face. “What?” she asked.
“Now I’m trying to imagine you in a black fedora and sunglasses.”
*Dahl, Roald, Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator. Alfred A. Knopf: New York, p. 66.
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Or The Big Grey Fluffy Butt Matter
A Story of Faerie
© 2020 by M. Mitchell Marmel
(Additional characters by E.O. Costello and W.D. Reimer.)
Thumbnail art by
technicolor_pie, color by 
Major Matt MasonPart Thirty-four.
Jhonni:
Expense account addendum: three stars, forty dusks, for drinks and dinner at Sunset Grill and Brewers.
My note to Quill Fletcher apparently caused a little bit of a stir, and I suspected that Sage and Winterbough had also been busy. I discovered this when I had three furs show up at Old Man Sunset’s place as I was sitting down to a vegetable frittata and a mug of Sunset’s Best.
I heard a flutter and made a show of looking all around before looking down. “Oh, hello, Quill. I didn’t see you at first.”
The ptarmigan had a couple folks with him, notable my friend Flowers from the City Clerk’s Office, and a beagle I recognized right away.
So did a few old bumps and bruises.
“Hi, Maylon,” I said to the squirrel, but I was looking at the beagle. “Les Dater. Long time, never wanted to see again.”
Dater smirked. I have no idea how he got promoted all the way to Deputy Inspector. He’d only been an Assistant Maker of Threatening Gestures when he and a group of his fellow constables took turns at me back when Alastair was alive. “Dinar,” he said. “Nice to be remembered – of course, I remember you.” He pulled up a chair facing me across the table, with Quill to his left and Maylon to his right, effectively boxing me into the corner.
Dammit.
“Fletcher here,” Dater jerked a thumb at Quill, “tells me that you know something about Strangely Brown taking a dive out a window.”
“Yeah. I think he was trying to fly. Of course, the trick to flying is missing hitting the ground.” I took a drink of my beer. “Geffert was the guy who suggested the flight instructor.”
“Does this have anything to do with the wolfess and the buck you sent to talk with me and Parrott?” Maylon asked, and the squirrel’s tail twitched when I nodded. “How?”
A barmaid came over and Dater said, “We’ll all have beer. He’s buying,” he added, pointing at me.
Dammit.
After the drinks arrived and the barmaid sashayed off, I reached into my Elfintory and placed what Winterbough had called a St. Reynard’s medal on the table. “The same cat who taught Strangely to fly tried for me. Found this in his Elfintory, and Winterbough identified it as coming from a country called Vulpitania.”
Dater’s ears went up. “Never heard of it.”
“They’re not from around here,” I said, “but there’s a possibility that they’re behind a fellow named Byrde who’s running for the Council.”
Maylon’s tail went straight up. “That-That’s impossible!” he sputtered.
“Under the Brilliant Light,” I said, “nothing’s impossible.” We all fell quiet after I said that.
“If only,” Maylon finally ventured, “the Wolf Queen was here.” I was about to agree with him when I heard Dater give a huff, and glanced at him in time to see his ears droop. “Yes, Inspector?” my friend asked.
“Right now,” Dater said in a put-upon tone, “we’re literally up to our eyes in Wolf Queens, along with Weasel Queens, Lion Queens, Bear Queens, what have you. We even have a Raccoon Queen, with a naked otteress sidekick, mind you. They foiled a robbery a couple days ago.” He tapped a finger on the handle of his tankard. “Funny thing, that.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“Yeah. One of my officers is a magic-user, and he said her armor was from the Long Ago and way more magical than anything the others are wearing for the Festival.” He eyed me. “These two furs you talked to, Sage and Winterbough, right? What are they planning to do?”
“I haven’t talked to them lately,” I said. “They’re supposed to meet me here before Deliverance Day.”
***
Winterbough:
We went back to DelFurrio’s for dinner and to compare notes. I kept at least half an eye on Missy, just in case she decided to get playful again with that stick of hers.
I was more than a little surprised to see the Raccoon Queen and Ooo-er there, but not surprised at all that the otter femme studiously ignored the wolfess in the room. To her, at least, Missy couldn’t have been more invisible if she’d been thinking of mushrooms. Still, the wolfess’ appetite seemed to have improved a little, and for a while there were just the sounds of people eating.
At one point, Tessie (who’d been eating a small salad, and looking like she was hating every mouthful) glanced up at Fred. “I saw you at the rally this afternoon.”
The canine raised an eyebrow. “I thought I was blending into the audience pretty well. How did you spot me?”
“The fake mustache,” my erstwhile maid replied, and giggled.
Ooo-er leaned over and whispered in Tali’s ear, and the feline femme looked surprised before nodding. She rapped on the table with her knuckles and said, “Ooo-er and the Raccoon Queen have discovered a piece of information, but it’s for a very select audience.” She smiled at Matt and added, “That means that if you’re a mel, get out.”
Well, that was a surprise, but I had been about to leave anyway. “I have to meet with Jhonni Dinar.”
“All right if I come with you?” Matt asked, and I nodded.
“What about us?” Michael asked, indicating Fred and himself.
Tali grimaced. “We’re dealing with a political campaign, and we still have a day or two before voting starts. I want,” and she took a breath to steel herself, “I want you two to plan and start a negative campaign.”
The mink and the dog both said, “Oooh.”
The looks on their faces were . . . frightening.
Michael drew himself to his feet and took off his boater, holding it to his chest as he declaimed:
“’Okay,’ I said, ‘let’s learn and note
The art of politics.
Let’s teach you how to miss the boat
And how to drop some bricks,
And how to win the people’s vote
And lots of other tricks.’”
Not to be outdone, Fred stood and said,
‘’Let’s learn to make a speech a day
Upon the T.V. screen,
In which you never never say
Exactly what you mean.
And most important, by the way,
Is not to let your teeth decay,
And keep your fingers clean.’”
The two linked arms and set off to one of the many rooms in the back of the tailor shop, saying in unison:
“And now that I am eighty-nine,
It’s too late to repent.
The fault was mine the little swine
Became the President.”*
I shook my head and left with Matt to see the giraffe.
Twits.
***
Tali:
About midway through the raccoon and the otter’s description of what went on at the rally, I realized why they’d asked for all the men to leave the room. Yes, this conversation was definitely for ladies only.
In fact . . .
[Note appended to manuscript: “In accordance with Temporal Corps Policy Directive FO-27581 point 5d slash 418, part XIV, paragraph 27, extract 4a, this information has been redacted.”]
[Note appended to manuscript: “Which extract was that again?”]
[Note appended to manuscript: “4a.”]
[Note appended to manuscript: “Oh. That one.”]
Missy had her chin in her paw while Ooo-er and the Raccoon Queen were talking, and her tail was switching back and forth. She suddenly asked, “How was the crowd reacting to him? Not what he said, but how he was moving?”
Ooo-er looked intently at her mate and suddenly recoiled in surprise at an answering glare from the wolfess. She started to stammer something aloud but the raccoon replied, “They seemed a lot more enthusiastic than the others.”
Missy’s glare swung to the Raccoon Queen. “How so?”
“More clapping, louder cheers,” the sow replied.
A curt nod. “Was it more mels than femmes?”
The raccoon thought for a moment, but it was Ooo-er who replied. “More mels.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Missy sat back, stroking her chin again. “What?” I finally asked.
“If he didn’t learn it . . . the nephew of the Master’s liege-lord refers to the Master’s apparent ability to seduce unwary femmes as ‘his sick Elfhamian mojo.’ Whether Byrde learned it or it’s innate, he’s obviously using it to sway people to vote for him.”
The raccooness nodded, her voice sounding rather flat. “Almost Unseelie.”
The look in Missy’s eyes hardened. “Agreed.”
“Which makes stopping him and whatever plan the Vulpitanians have all the more important,” I said. “Is there anything else?” I asked the otter and the raccoon.
They shook their heads. Ooo-er started to stand up. “I think we should be going,” she said quietly, giving Missy a very significant glance that the wolfess returned in spades. Tessie just looked disturbed, and the two of them left.
When the door closed I asked the wolfess, “What was that all about?”
“Hm?”
“Come off it. I may not be able to read minds, but the looks you two were giving each other were pretty damned obvious.”
Missy sighed and slumped in her seat. “She – she wanted to talk. About us.”
“Yes?”
She put a paw over her eyes. “I told,” and her voice caught, “I told her that we’d discuss it later . . . after all this was over.” She blinked back tears. “Business before pleasure, you know?”
I reached over and patted her shoulder. “That was hard to say, I’ll imagine.”
“It was.” She sniffed hard and gave me a look. “But I also told her that I wasn’t going to share your bed, or you mine. I’ve messed up, and I’m not going to make it worse.”
I nodded. “Good.” We sat there a moment, and she chuckled. “What?”
“I want to thank you for that baton you gave me.” Her smile was nasty, and I like it. “It was useful on the Master’s arse.”
“Not the same reach as your bardiche, though,” I said, and she nodded. “Tell me, what other weapons are you good with?”
“Ah, well . . . hmm, knife, spear – I was trained in the sword by the best warriors in Artemisiaford; I’m sadly average in the use of the bow. And, of course, Sun-and-Moon. I got very good with that.” She smiled fondly at some memory or other, and glanced at me. “Why?”
I smoothed my ears back with a paw. “I think that if it comes to a fight, you might need something more than that baton. Come on,” I said as I stood up, “another trip to the armory.”
We headed into the back rooms of the back rooms and I accessed the armory. “We’ve got a variety of swords here,” I said, waving a paw at the racks while the wolfess practically drooled. “Everything from the simple,” and I pointed at a Roman gladius, “to the just plain silly,” and I gestured at a two-pawed greatsword that was easily two yards long and weighed maybe fifty pounds minus the jewels that adorned the hilt. There was even a sword that had three blades (the two on either side can be shot at your opponent; I refer to my previous remark about ‘silly’).
Missy was testing the balance on a katana when I jerked a thumb at a closed door. “And then we have what’s in there.”
“What’s in there?” she asked.
“Sentient weapons.” The wolfess raised her eyebrows and perked her ears as I entered the code and opened the specially soundproofed door.
Why soundproofed?
“About time!”
“Use me, use me!”
“I thirst for blood, mortal! Let us go kill!”
“Oh, DO shut up! Souls are much tastier than blood!”
“Tongues of fire on Idris flaring / News of foemen near declaring – “
“Shut up!”
“No, YOU shut up!”
“Shut up shutting up!”
“When the deep purple falls / Over sleepy garden walls – “
I closed the door and dug a fingertip into my ear. “They tend to get a little loud if no one’s used them in a while.”
She was standing there gobsmacked, one eye twitching. “They’re – intelligent?”
“Yeah, for given value of ‘intelligent.’ Why?”
“Sun-and-Moon was intelligent, but it never spoke.”
“Maybe it didn’t have anything to say,” I said. “We keep that part of the armory carefully soundproofed. They tend to get very bitchy at each other if they haven’t been used in a while. It’s a small hazard of having so many sentient weapons from various alternities.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” and I leaned against the door. “We had one interlude where they started playing The Dozens. That did NOT end well.”
“’The Dozens?’”
“Insult fights.”
Her ears perked. “Ah. I’ve heard there are certain regions in Faerie that do that.” She hadn’t put the katana back. “I’d like to borrow this, if I may.”
I smiled. “Of course.” I was sure that Hanzo-sama would respect where the gift was bestowed.
“You know,” Missy ventured, “I’ve been thinking.”
“I’ll bet.”
“About our encounter . . . with Fuma.”
“Oh.” I smiled again. One doesn’t forget that, and I suddenly felt the need to hug someone. “What were you thinking about?”
“I think,” Missy said, measuring her words carefully, “that we dispelled the Gap and headed here to Eastness because we were meant to.”
“Fuma directed us?”
She nodded. “It’s too much of a coincidence, don’t you think? We arrive here, in a regenerated and recovered Eastness, just in time to encounter a plot to subvert the government.” She grinned, showing all her teeth. “We’re on a mission from Fuma!”
I laughed and held my paws up to frame her face. “What?” she asked.
“Now I’m trying to imagine you in a black fedora and sunglasses.”
*Dahl, Roald, Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator. Alfred A. Knopf: New York, p. 66.
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Giraffe
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 124 kB
Listed in Folders
At least one of those swords sounds like Harlan Ellison...
https://babylon5.fandom.com/wiki/Sp.....y_the_Computer
https://babylon5.fandom.com/wiki/Sp.....y_the_Computer
Comments