Part 1 of my newest storyline, the Brooklyn Saga, a tale of anthros, boats, adventure and mystery~

Tell me what ya think, I worked hard to put this together c:


Part 1: Port of Call

The clanging of machinery stopping suddenly, the hiss of steam escaping vents and the dull shuddering thud of docking against the pier; not the most pleasant sequences of sounds to stir one from an uneasy slumber. Coffee browns eyes flutter open and focus on their surrounds, a dingy cabin aboard a cramped ship. A small twitching nose sensing the myriad of scents entering the room: The saltiness of the water, the stench of fuel leaking below deck and the musk of many individuals packed together too tightly in a confined space. Small ears swiveled to accustom to the sounds around them, shouts above deck and below, the low crashes of the waves outside and the shuffling of feet all around. Rise and shine Brooklyn, welcome to Rockhaven. Grumbling emitted from beneath the grimy blanket and mattress that barely passed for bedding as a small girl stirred from her sleep, and a girl who was, for that matter, far from human. Her body was covered in a soft, light brown fur, in place of hair was a mess of quills, pulled into a ponytail and braided to keep it in shape. Brooklyn as she was called was an anthropomorphic hedgehog, short, somewhat thick in the middle, and young, fourteen years of age…or was it thirteen? She couldn't remember that well, since her last birthday had been long after she'd left home, after whatever had transpired to force the youngster to flee and be unable to recall what tragic events had actually happened to her that day.

Shaking her head of blurred memories and grogginess, Brooklyn pushed herself up from the bed and pulled out a small case from beneath it, her belongings, or more accurately her lack of them. A dirty, thick red shirt, blue pants padded out with bits of leather for protection against cuts and grazes from clipping things while moving below deck, and a pair of old goggles her father had given her…there they go again, those shattered, illegible memories, her father was…no, he wasn't a hedgehog like her, was he? No, he was a dog, an old and grizzled fisherman who had found her as a kit and raised her as his own until-"All ashore who's going ashore!" cried out the voice of one of the crew, prompting others aboard to make their way off of the boat. Hurriedly dressing herself, the girl shuffled out with the small but packed crowd and squinted as sunlight beamed down upon them, breaking up the shadows of the port. It was still early in the morning so the wind blew cold, only the sun's rays providing some warmth to those milling about the area. Brooklyn sighed and began walking towards the nearest building, a tavern no doubt filled with whatever rabble of downtrodden animal people populated Rockhaven's waterside districts. It was a small island too, formed…well, built, atop the wreckage of a really old ship they say, from a time before the anthros, before the waters rose. The hedgehogette would have pondered the history of her current location more had her stomach not decided to derail her thoughts with a low rumble of hunger. She felt her cheeks flush red and was thanking the maker that nobody heard or noticed it, and simply walked a little bit faster towards the building, hoping she could find some cheap food at least, if anything.

The din of the tavern was thankfully not as bad as she'd feared, mostly limited to two or three of the more inebriated patrons belting out raunchy sailor songs or arguing about trivial matters. Finding an empty table, she sat down and tried not to draw any attention to herself, which was hard not to do when you're a small hedgehog girl in a pub filled with middle aged seafarers and traders. It wasn't long before a female cat approached her, one of the tavern staff judging by her outfit, and looked at Brooklyn curiously. "Yer an awfully funny sight in a place li' this luv." She chuckled; Brooklyn meekly sank in her chair a little, not responding. "Wha's a lil'un li' you doin' in a dive li' this then? Lost?" Looking up at the lady, she slowly managed to speak up, though it was a timid whisper "Um…I'm looking for help actually." She mumbled, if a human being was to hear the little hedgehog speak, they'd probably identify her accent as Cockney, but we won't go into that. "Help eh? What kinda help luv?" The cat leaned down towards her, a small smile on her muzzle "Well, uh…I can't remember anything from a year ago, I ran away from home, from, something and I don't know what. I lost my father to it I think, and I want help to just…piece together what happened to me." Brooklyn went on, slightly comforted and able to speak louder at last. "I see…well luv, yer in fer some luck, I think tha' some o' them adventuring types come into this place a lot, ya might find someone willin' tah help yer with yer problem."

"Really?" She asked, eyes brightening a little. "Really. Now are ya gonna order somethin' tah eat? Yer belly sounds like a lil tugboat right now." The feline smirked playfully at Brooklyn, who squeaked ever so slightly and looked down, cheeks nearly luminescent scarlet. "I would but….I only have a few coins and that's it." She grumbled dejectedly. "Aww don' worry luv, yer new here an' ya got quite the back story there, so ya know what?" "What?" "I'll let yer have whatever ya want fer free, just this once." The cat could've sworn she saw the hedgehog's face light up like a beacon, because she sure looked happier. "Heh, knew that'd cheer ya up luv" She smiled. Some time later she was now taking away the empty plates left behind by Brooklyn, who was leaning back in her chair contentedly, sighing to herself while resting her paws upon her thoroughly filled and slightly bloated stomach, a tiny burp escaping her lips. "Someone's not seen any food beyond them lil sailor's rations, have ya? Oh and I almost forgot, I'm Karla." The feline said. "Brooklyn, I'm Brooklyn" came the reply "Tha's an interestin' name luv, never heard tha' one before. Ya named after tha' ol' ruin past the open sea?" "No actually, my dad…I think, named me after a stream…ya know, brook?" "I see. Well then Brooklyn, remember I said about them adventurin' types? Look over there; I think yer problem's solved."

Brooklyn slowly turned her head to where Karla was pointing, and she blinked slightly at the sight: A rather eccentric looking cat, a male this time, was trying to impress a table of minxes with some sort of magic trick, and they weren't very impressed to say the least. The cat's fur was black and white, a calico it seemed. And behind him stood a tall but gaunt looking cheetah girl, arms folded across her chest and an expression so sour even lemons would wince at her. One of her arms glinted in the dim lights of the tavern, it was a prosthetic but it was moving like it was her real arm… a cyborg maybe? Brooklyn felt scared all of a sudden, these people did not look like the kind of crowd she'd want to spend prolonged contact with, let alone try and get to help her, but now Karla was suddenly pulling her to her feet and marching her over to them faster than she could try and squirm from her grip. "Oi Calico!" She barked "This lil'un has a problem, and yer good with problems."