Funny, I thought you were a land crab ;D

No, mate. The Capn' has his weak points protected from massive damage thank you XD

Aha! That looks pretty good, I must say.

Zucca, gray and gold thrice-hybrid of wolf human and alien, dimensional traveler and commander of a massive starship full of refugees from numerous dimensions found himself sitting in a really dingy tavern in a grubby port town, trying to collect his thoughts after a rather bad interdimensional teleport. This world he could not identify, nor did he have place of mind to navigate his personal starship in search of the larger mothership he commands.

He needed to get to the mainland, but couldn't risk taking his smaller ship for risk of being seen.

He was about out of ideas when in walked... him.

In spite of his shabby appearance, Zucca's military eyes drifted first to the stranger's weapon. The cutlass stuck out like a sore thumb, being both extremely well made, and immaculately cared-for.

He had the look of a captain about him, and Zucca opted to take a chance, for his friends and crew were no doubt worried sick about him by now, and this grizzled sea dog could take him across the sea.

(The Capn' should respond to this tale in kind? He'll do his best here...)

The bulldog's face was visible on the off chance it wasn't buried in the foam of the cheapest imaginable spirits. His rheumy eyes sought out a point on the stranger to focus. Something shiny caught his inebriated attention.
"Ye've had a rough time there from the look of yer timbers, mate. All metal cast."
He chuckled warmly to himself, pouring from an empty bottle.
"Pull up a chair! At least they're free fer the asking. Now Squeaks? He lost his eye in an unfortunate alternation with a craw-dad the size of yer head, lad! But he's curious as to how ye got yer own mussing to warrant metal arms. What ship ye sail with? What flag to ye fly? Do ye not like a lot of questions? The last query you should probably answer first."
He held up a paw, numerous flashy rings shining between his stubby fingers.
"Hey May! Get the Capn's new best friend an ale on his tab, would ya be a dear?"

The stranger in the clothing that could only be described as bardic in appearance, smiled through the line of questions.

"I'll answer your questions in the order asked." He said. "But first, introductions. I am Zucca Xerfantes." The stranger said, speaking with a dialect that the well-traveled sea captain recognized as Middle-Eastern, Egyptian by the sounds of it.

"As for my arm, eye and legs..." He said, rolling up both pant legs to show that everything below his knees was metal. "It's something of a long story. Suffice to say I was running towards an explosion when it set off. If good friends of mine weren't present to scrape me off the ground and haul what was left of me back to medical care, I'd have been pushing up the sands."

Zucca glances to the waitress who had been patiently waiting for him to place an order. "Oh, err... Iced Tea, please." He says.

He returns his attention to the crusty sea dog...

"As for my ship, it's... elsewhere. The Celestial Dream is the name she bears. My... dinghy... is insufficient for the task of taking me across the ocean just yonder." He says. "The flag I fly is my own. I'm what you could call a freelance explorer. Vessel is crewed by refugees I have taken in from all manner of lands. As for questions..."

He smiles, leaning back into his seat. "I am never against sharing a story, so ask away as you please. Though I would appreciate the knowledge of who is doing the asking."

"Arr!" The bulldog swatted Zucca across the shoulders. "By the powers yer right! Ol'Squeaks can't but respect a man who flies his own colors, hang the consequences! As fer the Capn', he does much the same, although less of it nowadays."
He extends a grubby paw.
"Captain A.P.I.L.H Squeaks is the name. There's more to it but its tough on the tongue, lad. Celestial Dream ye says? Squeaks has never heard of her like, but if'n ye needs a bark The Fainting Nancy...STOP THAT LAUGHING!"
He fingered his cutlass grimly.
"She feints, like birds and swordsmen do. Fastest most agile ship yer likely to see. Probably is bloody painters heard the name wrong so until Ol'Squeaks can scrounge up the coin The Fainting Nancy she be. One crack and I'll give ye something permanent to remember me by, bucko. Don't make the Capn' do that. He's really a gentle dog at heart."
The iced tea arrive and Squeaks considered it, scratched his beard.
"So...why does ye drink soaked leaves mate? Its something Ol'Squeaks has wondered at. Anyways, the Capn' would love to hear yer tales while we embark. Pass him a share ye feel proportional to yer destination, extra if ye see dangerous waters ahead, and he'll get ye to where yer going or float home boots first, swear to it!"

Zucca hadn't even cracked a smile a the name of the vessel, as his electrosensory perception, reading the emotions of the captain, told him it was a touchy subject.

Frankly Zucca was surprised he could sense even that much. The captain's mind was unique, to be sure. It was a tightly woven ball of consciousness through which he could sense little.

"I have gold to pay for the passage." He says. The gold came from his ship's storage unit, but was more utility than monetary. His vessel's wiring was gold, so as to prevent electromagnetic currents from shorting her out. It was his last brick, but the situation called for this.

He draws back the side of his vest, showing the gold brick stuffed in his pocket. "It's yours if you see me safely across the ocean, captain." He says, sipping his tea. "Oh, as for your query, I'm something of a lightweight where alcohol is concerned. One only needs to experience once, the passing out and waking up naked in bed with no recollection of how one got there to swear off the stuff for life." He says with a sheepish smile.

(Capn' Squeaks had so much assumed that Zucca would laugh he reacted as if that was the case. He does this deep in the bottle.)

"Aye, the Capn' has been there." Squeaks nodded, considering Zucca's story. "Only he woke up inside an apple barrel on a trading ship to Kuala Lumpur, and he doesn't speak a word of French!"
The bulldog laughed at an unnecessary link.
"Even if the color of yer gold wasn't true enough to this old dog's eye yer tales ring true to his ear. One good one. The other was bitten nearly off by manta ray. Now all he hears in that'ns a sort of ringing, see. Course that might be the grog."
A shrewdness stole into the Captain's eyes, belying his previous drunken flailing.
"Say lad, I'd keep that gold close to yer heart. There's plenty a black hearted bilge rat here abouts that would gut you for the asking. Not just the bilge rats neither. Squeaks looks after those that do right by him, but then again ye look mighty capable yerself. The Capn' can read these things, mate. Welp, gather yer things. I'll see ye stowed aboard before the light turns against us."
"I think you'll do nothing but turn around slowly!"
It was a weasel, a tall one in a faded purple bandana, mustache tied into a intricate series of knots. He leered with his three good teeth.
"I heard something about gold. Young fella, you wouldn't know nothing about that would you?"
Squeaks toyed with the handle of his cutlass, but cast a look at Zucca, deciding better.
He grinned wickedly.
"Go to him lad" he whispered. "If ye wants to of course. If not the Capn' can handle his craft!"

Zucca stands up, adjusting his vest.

"Of course, sir. We were discussing the color of our hair. Mine, as you'll note, is a fitting shade of gold. Not common where I'm from, but not totally unheard of. It is the color of the sands of my homeland." He says, taking a respectful bow.

He could see the weasel working things out in his head, trying to remember just what he'd overheard.

"Yer' lyin' to me, young fella. I've a respect for those that can talk their way out of a fight, but not so much that I'd keep from swabbing the floor with their blood." The gaptoothed pirate said.

Zucca's ocean blue eyes narrowed. "I cannot be held responsible for your safety if you decide to attack me." He said in a low tone, losing the friendly edge his voice had carried before.

The weasel shrugged, then threw a punch. Zucca weaved to the side, hands tucked behind his back.

The pirate decided to up his ante, throwing multiple flurries, using every dirty trick in the book, but the young, long-haired wolf weaved and dodged without returning a single attack.

The weasel was growing increasingly frustrated, scowling. He finally drew his flintlock pistol upon seeing the flash of gold in Zucca's pocket. "Aha! Ah' knew you had the shine on ye'!" He centered the barrel at Zucca's face and began to pull the trigger. At the same time, Zucca's metal hand snapped up, pushing the gun arm up as it went off.

The bilgerat leapt back, drawing an epee. "Pull yer' steel if you've got any! Otherwise I hope ye' have all of yer' affairs in good and proper order..."

Zucca smiled mirthlessly. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this." From his baggy pants he draws a scimitar, a long curved blade whose edge glows an eerie blue.

The ensuing fight didn't last long. Zucca parried, blocked, but never struck, waiting for the timing to be right. He waited for the weasel to give a lunge, stepping to the side at the last second and extending his foot. The assailant fell headfirst into the bar, knocking him out cold.

Zucca clicked his tongue, shaking his head. He spoke something in Egyptian Arabic and with a flash, the exotic blade vanished.

He sat back down. "I know what you're going to ask, and no, I'm not what you'd call outright pacifistic. But look at him... I didn't want to lay a hand on someone who clearly hasn't bathed in weeks." He said.

Capn' Squeaks was clapping and grinning wide.
"That was a fine bit of work there! Finer the Capn' couldn't have..."
He thought on this.
"Ye were good lad. Short Stack Steve is unlikely to remember yer name, but he'll never forget ye. What was all that fancy words there?"
He drained his glass.
"No matter much. I'd take ye fer the gold you had if ye were sixty feet taller and breathing fire! Still ye've got quite a few tales to tell I'd imagine."
He tossed a coin purse from his belt onto the bar as they exited.
"Sorry about the mess." Squeaks chuckled. "Ol'Squeaks has always wanted to say that! Now tell me lad, where do ye hale?"

Zucca smiled. "Far away. A city in the sands of Egypt, off the shores of the bountiful Nile." He says. True, in a sense. It just wasn't THIS dimension's Egypt, and Zucca doubted Victoria City existed in this world. It seemed unique to his native dimension.

"It's also quite warm and sterile, even as deserts go. Had I not the fur I do, I've no doubt anyplace besides there would feel frigid by comparison." He says as they walk out of the tavern. "So what about you, Captain Squeaks? What town in what country has the honor to call you its own?"

They went towards the docks, and Zucca's eyes began to scan about the ships docked there, looking for the mislabeled 'Feinting Nancy'

"Egypt." the bulldog mused. "That's where they get them funny hats from with the pom pom attached?"
He tried to illustrate a fez with wild gestures as they approached a small dingy with a good portion of water at the bottom.
"Saves Ol'Squeaks pilotage to keep Betsy here anchored in. Sure she gets rained on and the Capn' takes his life in his paws to travel in such a hole ridden termite meal, but he's not made of money see. Ye can catch a glimpse of Nancy over yon."
He pointed vaguely as he climbed aboard, boots sinking into the standing salt water.
Zucca looked and saw looming in the fog a fairly impressive bark for such a hard up seaman. It looked like all the tales he might have heard of ancient pirates from times before advances in stellar technology who used to sail the waves in search of unsuspecting merchant vessels to plunder. Leastwise she looked to be a sound ship, not listing, carrying herself proudly in the mists.

http://www.slingables.com/wallpaper.....e-pirate-ship/

"All aboard!" Squeaks said cheerily. "Now ye bail like mad while the Capn' gets Betsy on course. As ye asked, Squeaks was born on the bounding main and intends to die there too, probably with a cutlas or musket ball through his guts, but he'd like that better then rotting of bad booze at port. He's not too sure about his origins to be honest though. Raised by natives he was! Born on a bark that ran aground and just a pub when he was singled out for a meal by island cannibals, but the chief's daughter took a shying to him and kept him from the pot. The less said about that particular part of Squeak's life the better, but he can say 'long pork' is a bit of a misnomer. Its more like 'long chicken'."
Zucca bailed and the bull dog pulled to sea.
"Storm's coming." Squeaks remarked, shading his eyes. "Yeve got a fine mouth for someone in these parts. More about ye then meet me good eye. You can tell Ol'Squeaks what have ye if'n ye cares to. He's heard it all. Amorous merfolk. Voodoo witch doctors, demon ghost pirates and three headed monkeys! Ye can trust this salty dog to keep his lips sealed too but ye can't begrudge a captain curiosity about his crew now, can ye?"
He pulled with a will but kept his eyes fixed on the wolf.
"Yer secrets are yer own, but the Capn's listening if'n ye care to share a few. Its a few pulls to Nancy yet!"

The wolf sat on the creaking bench of the dingy, first watching the slowly growing form of the ship, then glancing up at the bulldog. "Would you believe that I'm a combination of three species, created from crystal that fell from the heavens, carrying the souls of an entire lost civilization like an alien Noah's Ark, trained as a soldier to turn the tide of war back in favor of my world only to discover by accident that I could travel to other parallel realities, other versions of some base hub world I've yet to discover, coming to command a ship that sails the stars themselves filled with people from a thousand doomed worlds and all the while being dogged by other dimensional travelers with extermination of yours truly on their mind?" He asks. "Or further, that I'm a little less than a century old?"

Zucca smiles wanly at the dog's expression. "Probably not. But take it as you will. I assure you now though that I'm of sound mind."

"So..." He said, hands on his knees. "What say you?"

The bulldog rowed in silence for a time.
"I'd say its only half as less plausible then Stubtail McGrew saying he once caught a fish the size of his boat. No lad. I don't disbelieve ye. Barely understand half to be truthful, but it sounds like yer either on the level or completely out of yer brig. Seeing as ye haven't pulled a knife on The Capn' as yet that means yer either the good kind of crazy or telling the truth, and both sorts are welcome aboard the Nancy for my tastes. Here we be!"
The dinghy pulled up alongside the creaking ship side. A rope ladder was lowered from the side.
"Ah! Thank ye boson! She's a feline she is. Dumb as a door post but smart as a whip. By dumb I mean she don't speak much."
The climb was rickety and the winds waking for the coming storm swung the ladder to and fro but the both of them were experienced in the ways of the world and ascended without much difficulty.
At the top was a shortist cat in a gingham dress. Her fur was mattered with sea and rain water and she wore a worn tri-corn hat festooned with dangling bones and carved wooden charms. As Capn' Squeaks approached she grinned pleasantly and waved. As Zucca approached she looked apprehensive, furtive. She hid behind the bulldog like a shield, peeking around his hip at the wolf.
"Now now, Meg! Manners. This be Zooks, my new best mate. Show him to his quarters, would ye?"

The wolf took an amiable bow to the feline, folding one hand behind his back, the other tucked to his chest. "I apologize for my disruption of normal goings-on aboard the ship, miss Meg. Your captain was kind enough to offer passage in return for gold bullion."

Without a word, as expected, Meg began to lead him towards a door near the aftcastle.

Zucca snapped off a salute that the captain immediately recognized as that of an experienced military man, then proceeded to follow the mute feline towards his quarters, leaving no doubt, countless questions in the mind of the sailor.

Who was this person? Was he quite honest? If he's serious, and this is just one version of the world, how many are there? The prospect seemed more dizzying than standing on the lip of the crow's nest during a white squall...

The wolf smiled over his shoulder at captain and crew before descending into the innards of the ship, towed along by the silent cat.

The state room provided was a meager affair and obviously hadn't been used in some time. How two beasts alone had gotten total control over a vessel of such size and at least previous grandeur the wolf could only speculate. The walls were covered in the usual dark grime that came with extended sea voyages. Pipe smoke had blackened the ceiling and a number of bottles marked 'grog' were tossed about the floor. He could see that Meg had done her best to straighten and tidy the room. Again, how she had known to when Squeaks had clearly been unable to deliver the message of her arrival from shore he could only guess.
But clues to the reason were about. No stranger to the supernatural in his travels surely he recognized a collection of grimoires arranged behind a hand-carved model of the Fainting Nancy in a bell jar. A crystal ball in a claw stand was also on a nearby shelf.
When meg nonchalantly lit a pipe and began to smoke it he realized that this had been her room before him. When she lit the lamps using the burning brand she had lit her pipe bowl with he could see strange symbols carved and painted into the woodwork.
The cat took him gently by the hand and showed him how to operate the manuel pump sink and toilet, indicated by gestures that she would be at his assistance if he rang a bronze bell sitting on a table by the bed. With a nod she turned to leave.
Then she stopped.
Walking back she calmly withdrew a packet of dog-eared tarot cards from her dress pocket and held it up for him to see. She nodded again, seeking his approval or looking for his refusal to tell his fortune.

Zucca, not the bashful sort and as ever, curious to a fault, regarded the tarot cards.

He smiled warmly, nodding his consent.

"My future, present and past, yes?" He asks softly. "That's the manner of tarot if I'm not mistaken."

He wonders how many cards will be used, which ones they will be and further, what they'll wind up meaing...

She set him down at a small rickety table and spread the shuffled the cards in front of her, shuffling through them swiftly and gracefully. Finally three slid towards him.
All three were reversed when revealed which made Meg look increasingly worried with each turn.
Reversed ten of pentacles. Reversed Sun. Reversed Chariot.
For lack of a better way to communicate Meg pulled down a dusty hard bound book and set it with a heavy thud in the middle of the table, cracking it open to show each meaning in turn among the ancient wood cut illustrations.

PAST: Reversed ten of pentacles: A fortune wasted or lost or which never existed.

PRESENT: Reversed Sun: Night, dark energy, loss of innocence.

FUTURE: Reversed Chariot: Loss of control or direction. A denied destination.

Meg considered Zucca very carefully. She patted him reassuringly on the paw as if to comfort him from trails of the past or perils in the future. She even passes him a grog bottle from a collection of those still at least partially full, lying amidst the empties on the floor.

Zucca regarded the meanings with worry. Fortune could mean anything, and the first thing that came to his sharply intuitive mind was losing the first love of his life. She parted ways with him and he did nothing to stop her.

He glanced at the second card, scratching his head. He was well-traveled and had seen the multiverse at its worse, albeit also its best, and true his friends all refer to him as being overly innocent at times, sheltered at others, but he never figured himself to be. The second one could mean anything from having to make a terrible choice to some kind of sexual discovery. The range was broad.

He looks at the chariot and chews his black lip a bit. His exploration of the multiverse was quite aimless, but now that he's on this one world, the only destination he has is the other side of the ocean...

He reaches for the grog, giving a grateful nod to Meg. "Should I tell the captain...?" He asks, listenign to the quiet creaking of the ship as she rocks in the waves.

She looks thoughtful for a moment, cocking her head to one side in thought, in fact so much to one side her ear pillows against her shoulder. At last she straightens up and shakes her head.
"Oh a sailor's life is a life fer me!" the bulldogs rancid singing drifted down the steps. "Diddly um bump bump on a following sea!"
Somewhere Zucca could hear the growl of a motor.
The flickering light of a candle played along the walls until the Capn' stomped down into the cabin, his calloused hands wrapped around a tray of crispy unidentifiable meat and blackened vegetables, a candle, two glasses and a tot of rum with the wax still on the stopper completing the meal. He set it on the table with a grunt of pride then cast about looking for another chair.
"Figured we have supper in yer cabin mate, seeing as ye have the only table aboard."
He finally settled with pulling up a sea chest and seating himself that way.
"Well, eat up before it scrambles away."
Meg seized the bottle and began prying at the wax. Outside the windows the sea began to recede as the boat made its course.
"Ol'Squeaks does wish he could get about without that nasty, loud smelly...thing." he grumbled. "But hard times call for hard measures. Beside the rest of his crew either swings at Port Royale, sleep with Davey Jones, or are living high on the hog in Bristel with the dubloons they took from his cabin while he was..."
His eyes flickered. A slight color crept into his cheeks.
"Drunk. Listen here mate, a piece of free advice from your friend the Capn'. If it swims, shoots, or cuddles...rent it."
He took a fork full of unable ashy flesh, chewed thoughtfully then turned back to the wolf.
"So the Capn's talked a fair storm. Even Meg has had her say, so to speak. How about regaling us like with a tale of yer adventures, yer homeland for a change?"

The wolf glances out to sea, the vast waves so different from the serene Nile he grew up alongside. He glances up at the bulldog again, smiling distantly.

"My homeland, the place I was crea-err, born, is a land of sand and stone with a ribbon of blue and green stretching across her face. I was born in Victory City, Egypt, near the Giza Plateau. My home was cold only at night and from the top of the tower which held the laboratory I called home, the city looked like a scattering of bright jewels across black velvet." Zucca said. "The culture was an amalgam of many from all over the world. Nobody truly 'got along' with *everyone* else, but they coexisted peacefully. I was raised between the American and Egyptian quarters, but technically Arabic is my first language."

"As for adventures... I could tell you about the day my world struck back against Alpha Centauri's invasion. We had discovered faster than light travel through means of artificial wormhole and communication via ansible. I was trained since childhood to lead and fight, but that life and most of its memories was lost when this happened." Zucca said, tapping the metal on his face. "I walk the path of peace and diplomacy these days, though I can still defend myself, as you saw, Captain."

"We dropped out of slipspace just over Centauri III, the homeworld of those who attempted to invade us. My unit was the first strike element, wearing massive, thick power armor. We were dropped from the belly of the cruiser and our ablative plating shielded us from the heat of re-entry. As soon as we were in atmo, the ablative plates broke away and we rocketed towards the chief military installations, each of us carrying a clean tactical nuke. Each strike went off without a hitch, but that was about the time our rocket packs died out. We made planetfall and each of us in our own sector was instructed to secure a landing zone for the dropships that were moments behind us. I remember being disappointed that so little opposition came my way, while my comrades had their hands more than full, many of them perishing before reinforcements arrived, but the dropships came and our servicemen and women vaulted forth to take out the Centaurian production facilities." He said, gazing out of the window again.

He looked back to Squeaks and Meg. "And that's how I earned the Silver Star."

Ah, good.
Now if I spot you in a tavern, I can buy you a round and we can sing timeless sea chanties about boobs and swordfights. :)

Also, interdimensional travel via bermuda triangle. Why didn't I think of that?

A wonderful picture, Cap'n. No matter how scruffy you are, you always look happy and devoted! Keep up the amazing work, you have us all riveted to your prose!

^^ Glad ye agree

Ol'Squeaks is sorry to hear so :(
Ye can only do the first duty of a pet owner though: love them

Awesome to see You do have a character "persona\fursona" thing Yourself. Before I kind of pictured Your "alter-ego" looking like that kid thing you have in your avatar ^^.

Its also awesome to see You do roleplaying! Not sure if I ever did say that before... (My memory is what it is)