Hello dearest readers! :)
I got a bit carried away by the first theme of the Kilguin Week 2k17 - Animals, I had the picture of Kilguin in animal form, and here we are! All characters in the stories are half animals, like Minks.
There's going to have songs during the story, so you'll find links in the middle of the text when the song's started. I never seen it like that in a fiction before so tell me if it works for you or if the links are bothering you. Anyway I'll put the songs' titles at the end of the chapter.
I hope you'll enjoy the story as much as I do :3 Good reading!
Warning: Graphic violence, Blood, Smut
Chapter 1, Back in town
A fist connected hardly with the German shepherd's chin, throwing his head up with a squirt of blood. He hadn't time to breathe that a huge paw was closing on his throat, the claws of his owner digging in the dog's fur. The lion didn't even let him time to speak that he was already punching him in the chest repeatedly and with a professional accuracy. The dog could tell it from the cracks his ribs were making, and how his lungs emptied at each hit.
He knew he could do nothing to save his fur but he clawed in the lion's clothes in desperation, trying to make him lose his grip. He only managed to mess the suit that the huge man was wearing and earned punches in his muzzle. The German shepherd regretted everything he'd done that leaded him to this day, he thought coming to the southern city of New World would be a fresh start, that 1938 will finally be his year but all the fortune he'd found was being beaten in a back alley.
"Killer. Enough."
The lion stopped immediately at the commanding voice behind him. He grabbed the dog's loose tie and lifted him up against the brick wall of the dark alley. The dog searched desperately eyes he could cross but couldn't see the top of the lion's face because of his huge mane going down to his hips. Through his swollen eyes the German shepherd was vaguely distinguishing his feline nose and his blonde beard. But he clearly heard him growled threateningly when he saw what the dog had done to his jacket and shirt.
"You know," the voice kept going and it sent shivers down the dog's spine. He knew what was coming now and couldn't help pray for anything to save his poor soul. The wolf whom the voice belonged to came closer. His bright red fur was visible even in the beaten dog's field of vision. He took a drag from his cigarette as if he was waiting to have the man's full attention. His huge silhouette was lightened from behind, the smoke curling around his bulky frame. Contrarily to the lion, the wolf's fur was only on his forehead and going down his canine crooked nose, the rest of his skin being pale white. A stark contrast that was characteristic of one man… the dog tried to gulp but even without the lion's huge paws pressing on his throat he wouldn't have been able to.
"There are two things you need to always keep in mind in this city."
The wolf lifted one finger.
"You stay away from those who bears animal's name."
Then his clawed hand, topped with red fur, turned into a fist and he smashed the brick wall near the dog's head hard enough to leave a crack.
"And you never fuck with me."
Kid frowned threateningly making the fur that was going down on his wolf's nose wrinkled under his anger. He bore his pointed teeth, a mad look passing in his yellow eyes and the German shepherd went into a complete panic, struggling in Killer's grip.
"Please! Please! I swear I didn't–"
"Shut up!" Kid roared stepping on his cigarette butt.
The dog curled into a bleeding ball, he couldn't stop shaking. Instinctively his tail went between his legs and he felt the urge submit to the alpha whom tail was wagging dangerously.
"Please… Mister Kid, I beg–"
"You beg?" The wolf asked surprised, his mad smile growing as he licked his chops. "That changes everything."
Killer dropped the man who fell on his knees on the pavement. He crossed his arms, to let his boss come close to the wounded thug, towering him before kicking the dog down on his back.
"Don't be shy, you seemed so inspired."
The German shepherd couldn't help but glanced at the cold bodies of his friends pierced by bullet holes all over their furs and pleads just fled out of his mouth.
"I–I'll do anything! Please don't kill me Mister! I beg you mercy! I'll never step on your territory again!"
The wolf growled, "That's it? That's all you've got? I got whores licking my ass better than that!"
"Mister–"
A leathered shoe's kick cut the rest of his sentence. Then another hit his belly, making the dog yelped. Kid went into an unstoppable fury, spreading blood under his shoe at each word, "I– Fucking– Hate– When– You– Beg!" He beat the bunch of fur with a renew violence accompanying each new kick, until there was nothing left to hit but a corpse.
The wolf's fury wasn't satisfied though, and the calm he had maintained earlier had completely left him. He paced up and down the pavement, panting angrily, his heavy fur coat flying behind him. Among the people who could allow themselves an execution in the streets, Eustass Kid was one who liked to use that privilege.
"You could have skipped to that directly," Killer grumbled, his round ears twitching in annoyance.
His boss brushed his hair back but as always spikes rose up from his flaming red shock of hair. "That mongrel dog deserved nothing less! He was marking MY territory! For fuck sake! You're going away one month and bloody dogs are already peeing on every corner! Want you to hang them all on the main avenue! Time for some cheap advertising! Let everyone knows Eustass Kid is back in town!"
"Calm down Kid," Killer demanded approaching the shaking red wolf. "I rather not use all the money we just got to buy me a bail out of prison already."
"Oh come on! You're only saying that because you're going to be late for your date," the wolf spat.
"No." The lion denied. "It'll only get me more work to spread the message, corrupt the good cops and so. Let our men take care of the dogs."
Kid's gang had made a point of letting know that they were the bosses of New World's South. They had taken their time, but through the years they made it, but the fight was constant. Holding a territory required a lot of work and the city was attracting all kind of profiteers seeking fortune.
Lion and wolf left the alley without a looking back on the corpses they left behind. A few more in these infamous streets. New World was a city with many faces. One of them was bright and colorful, heart of jazz and swing, a sparkling diamond by the Calm Belt river. Another was smelling of blood and alcohol, it had a gun in its jacket and was crushing the weak ones under his boot. Carnival's masks reversible at will.
Killer jumped off the driving streetcar when he reached the seaside in the North of the city. He ran nimbly in the crowded streets, avoiding people with grace for someone of his size. But it helped to have fangs and claws to push your way through a crowd. Summer was coming to its end though the night was still warm and Killer appreciated once more living in a southern city.
He had discarded his ruined jacket on the way after he washed the blood off his fur. So it left him with only his creased dress shirt and grey suit trousers… the blonde put that in a corner of his head. He would be very late if he took a detour by his apartment now, instead he preferred to stop by a flower shop. He bought a bunch of roses and hurried, nearly avoiding getting ran over by fancy cars. Elegant people were multiplying. Hair slick, fur trimmed, shiny scales, New World wasn't going out without style. Even when he reached less rich areas, where venues weren't so fancy and select, people were always chic. Killer liked that part of the North's side. You had a lot of chances to get robbed if you weren't armed but damn people knew how to play music there.
Killer never enjoyed music that much before, but these last months he had been initiated into jazz and introduced to artists as ferocious as gangsters went it came to their music. He finally reached the street he was aiming for, a flowered and colorful one near Punk Hazard Lake, and wasn't surprised to see the long line of people trying to get in the Rumbar Club.
watch?v=Rve03u7oEvI
Music was already flowing out of the venue and the lion kept hurrying to the entrance, attracting the anger of the mammals waiting in line. Although Killer couldn't care less, he had a pass for quite a time. He passed the elegant doors topped by a delicate wrought iron ornament and surrounded by high columns. At the interior red doors, Killer presented his ticket to the bouncer –a new one, black panther almost as tall as the lion and wearing a dark suit– who simply nodded at the paper. He was about to open the door when he actually looked at the lion and stopped his gesture.
"Excuse me sir but… I can't let you in."
"Excuse me?"
The embarrassment of the panther seemed real when he explained, "Nothing against you sir, but I can't let you in dressed like that," the bouncer pointed Killer disheveled look, his shirt out of his pants with his collar wide open. "There's big names gathering here. And one of our tonight's performers is named Penguin, he can throw you out as it pleases him."
One rule was reigning over this city: don't mess with the wrong people. And the persons bearing animals' names were the most important ones. They were world's elite, caring the most ancient and primal bloods in their veins as their pure names were testifying. Almost every one of them were the richest people existing, no doors real or social could resist them. Indeed, they had the power to make your life very easy or so hard you wished you had never angered them. In the present situation though, Killer wasn't worried.
"I know," the lion topped holding back a smile, "I'm acquainted with him."
The bouncer laughed in disbelief, "Of course sir, and I do tea parties with Boa Hancock."
"Listen–"
Killer was interrupted by one of the doors opening and the bouncer straightened to let a small female cat out. Her big eyes glanced expertly at the people waiting. She had a plain orange fur, unmatched with her dark hair, and wore dress pants and shirt with a vest and a tie, the usual outfit of every venue's manager. Her ears took in the ambient sounds, her tail waggling slightly while she focused on the panther.
"Harry, why are you not letting people in?" She asked checking the list on her clipboard.
"Hello Crystal," the lion greeted his savior.
"Killer?!" She exclaimed suddenly recognizing him. "It's been so long! What are you doing here? Oh, forget it it's a stupid question. Come in Penguin's going to be so glad to see you!"
She opened the door for the lion and shushed the bouncer, "It's fine Harry, I handle him. Thank you."
Killer entered the now familiar place with his vast hall and glassy doors. Music hit him echoing beautifully between the blue colored walls.
Chandeliers were shining brightly, warming the yellow hangings under the main hall's balconies. The round tables scattered all over the place were practically all full of people, chatting loudly and drinking. A light cloud of smoke was blurring the air sticking to the fur and shadowing the shiny outfits, while the wooden dance floor in front of the scene had gotten its first dancers already. The Rumbar Club was bigger than it seemed from the outside and was renowned for its programming, regularly hiring new performers beside its big names.
Tonight a regular band almost exclusively composed with female cats was setting the stage on fire. Two singers were leading, alternating the lines with one microphone. They were twin cats with light brown stripped fur, mesmerizing the audience by their resemblance. Same bobbed brown hair and bright wiggle dresses. The rhythm was frenetic, the brasses were playing loudly, the notes came one after another in catchy refrain.
Tell me why are we so blind to see
That the ones we hurt are you and me
Power and the money, money and the power
Minute after minute, hour after hour
Everybody's running, but half of them ain't looking
What's going on in the kitchen, but I don't know what's cookin'
They say I gotta learn, but nobody's here to teach me
If they can't understand it, how can they reach me
I guess they can't, I guess they won't
I guess they front, that's why I know my life is out of luck, fool
Been spending most their lives, living in the gangsta's paradise
Been spending most their lives, living in the gangsta's paradise
Keep spending most our lives, living in the gangsta's paradise
Keep spending most our lives, living in the gangsta's paradise
A bold choice of lyrics for the performers. Despite being a respectable club, the Rumbar was frequented by numerous bosses and henchmen. Killer had spotted them as soon as he got in. Bege's men were smoking at large table near the scene. He saw Dellinger and Bellamy on a balcony at his right. Even some of the Vinsmoke's men were guarding a VIP section on the other side of the hall.
However musicians of the Rumbar had their own way to fight gangsters, armed with pianos, saxophones, trumpets, drums…
"Ladies and gentlemen, cheer for our lovely singers Alice and Aries, and the Sweet Whiskers band!"
Applauses greeted the performance and soon another band took the cats' place. But Killer barely had eyes for the show going on while he followed Crystal to backstage. She leaded him to the club's common wardrobe, giving instruction here and there and scolding the people who were lingering.
"Here, put that jacket on," she told handed him a classy grey clothing he quickly put on. He heard her satisfied exclamation but wasn't listening to the little cat. He only had Penguin on his mind right now.
"Crystal?" Another feminine voice called, "I can't find my–" The female bear who entered the wardrobe opened wide eyes when she recognized the lion. She was probably about to scream but Crystal intervened.
"Leena! Why are you not on stage already?" The bear in a long red dress wasn't listening to her at all and the ginger manager was forced to push her out of the wardrobe. "Killer you know the way!"
If he would ever forget something it certainly wouldn't be the way to Penguin's dressing room. Killer sneaked in the narrow corridors between wires and other performers. Backstage was way less glamorous, like seeing the tricks behind the magic. There were bright lights hanged on the high ceilings and when Killer saw a small wooden staircase going up behind the scene, he knew he was close and his heart felt it too.
The lion hadn't even time to knock that the dressing room's door opened.
"Does someon–" Penguin's call died in his throat when his eyes settled on Killer. The last smiled softly as he took in every details of the penguin. His tuxedo with a white vest and bow tie. His black clothes beautifully matching with the tiny black feathers covering his arms and face, his thin beak pointing from under a fancy hat that hid his dark short hair. The enlightened dark eyes and the growing smile on the thin mouth of his lover.
"Killer!" Penguin fell on the lion's neck and held him tight as if he couldn't believe he was really in his arms.
"I thought you weren't coming back before another week!" The musician could have cried of joy but he went with the most affectionate hug he could give, inhaling Killer's beast's smell. The lion held him strongly, relishing the familiar feeling of holding the smaller frame of his lover against him. Then he let Penguin faced him, both hands beside his hairy face. He missed the soft touch of the blonde fur covering his whole body.
"I'm so happy to see you!" Penguin exulted, his eyes glistening.
"Doesn't it deserve a kiss?"
One of Penguin's black hands came to his beak with shyness as if he could make it disappear by pressing on it with enough efforts.
"I didn't want to hurt you by jumping at you."
What was giving Penguin so much complex was making Killer melt. He took off the man's hat, before slowly taking his chin, making the penguin trembling. The lion tilted his head ever so slowly avoiding Penguin's beak and leaned toward his lover.
"Let me do it for you then," Killer whispered against the penguin's lips before claiming them.
It's been a long, long time they hadn't kiss and suddenly everything came back to them. All the little sensations, the shivers spreading on their skin, the strength with whose they were holding each other, the thrill running through their veins, the warmth of their mouths against one another. They deepened their kiss as they realized how much they missed each other. All the lonely nights they spent apart, all these times were the other's absence left them empty, none of that had importance now they were in each other's arms. Their lips moved slowly, rediscovering the other's ones. The taste of their mouth hadn't change and they kissed as if they couldn't have enough of it. Soon their tongues sung another tune, more rhythmic, a bit frenetic until they whimpered blissfully in that passionate embrace.
A delighted sigh brought them back the reality of the doorstep where they were kissing and the couple turned to see the Sweet Whiskers band all lined up in the stairs staring at them practically purring.
"Oh don't mind us, keep going," One of the twin cats said with a broad smile on.
Then among them Crystal seemed to realize she had let her vigilance down, and the manager scolded everyone to change for their next show, scattering the audience. She also informed Penguin his turn was coming in a five minutes. He nodded and dragged Killer in the dressing room, closing the door behind them.
"…those cats…" Killer heard Penguin grumbled.
"They're still fans of us," the lion laughed.
"That's not funny! They even wrote a song on us!"
"Really? I'd like to he–"
"No, I don't want it stuck in my head again!"
The lion leaned on the edge of the common dressing table.
"Are the Northerners playing with you tonight?" Killer asked, holding the bunch of roses to his lover and his loving smile spoke the softness his mouth wasn't telling.
Penguin took them with a crooked smile and set his homburg hat back on his head, "They just went on stage for the instrumental interlude." It was confirmed by the coats and instrument's cases all over the dressing room Penguin was sharing with other musicians.
"How was your trip in Sabaody?"; "How are you doing?" They asked at the same time.
"You first," Killer insisted.
"Well, I'm three months late on the loan," Penguin pouted, "And I quitted the Whisky Peak Club last week. They had put my name on their posters while I kept telling them I didn't want it to be on any publicity."
"Did your father show up?"
"No. I doubt he would even send one of his servants to see how brightly I'm succeeding without his money."
"You still don't want me to give you any?" Killer assumed.
"No!" Penguin retorted as expected, "I'm perfectly able to earn my living!" He exhaled and put down the flowers on the tiny dressing table before placing his hands on the lion's chest, caressing the soft fabric of his jacket.
"I knew it would be hard. To leave my family and… financial security. But it was my choice." The penguin lifted his eyes up and brushed Killer's fringe to reveal his golden brown eyes circled with a thin black line. "And I don't regret anything that leaded me where I am now."
Carefully he kissed Killer before asking, "So did you get what you wanted on your trip?"
"Yes, and even more than planned."
Penguin nodded, knowing Killer wouldn't tell more for his safety, then the penguin's face frowned with concerned, "I don't know if you went in the South side already but, there's new guys–"
"I know. We settled accounts already."
"Sounds it cost them a lot."
"Indeed," the lion confirmed, glad he wasn't hiding that part of his life to his lover.
"Does that mean you're not working late tonight?" Penguin enquired.
"I don't have the whole night free, sorry," Killer apologized thinking about all the work awaited him now they'd returned home. He shouldn't get too late on letting know Kid was back in town, especially if other guys had felt bold enough to settle while they were away.
"Oh… I was hoping we could go dancing after the show…"
The blonde got up and took Penguin's hand recalling tenderly how it was closing around his when they were dancing together, "Not tonight, but we'll get plenty of time later."
Penguin sighed knowing it was a lie. Killer always had work. He was an essential member of Eustass Kid's gang, his right hand man, the one who was always getting the job done.
"So, were the roses an apology in advance?"
"Yes," the lion admitted. He took one of the red flowers from the bunch, cut its stem and hung it to the chest pocket of Penguin's tuxedo, "And they look very good on you."
Complimenting him was a cheap shot but Penguin was too happy to see Killer after he'd been away so long that he didn't feel the strength to blame him. So in order to show him it was alright he stepped into their favorite game.
"Well Sir, I do like when you romance me that way," Penguin blushed and Killer had a knowing smile before he kissed the back of his hand, like refined gentleman.
"Romance is what I'm longing to give you my love."
"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have the honor to present you talented performers that will give you chills. For your pleasure, The Northerners!"
Thunderous applauses came with the spotlights running over the scene. The light swept over the numerous musicians on the scene from the giant at drums in the back, to the microphone at the front where Penguin was standing when the music started.
If Killer didn't know how much Penguin was getting nervous right before singing, he could have sworn the man was born on a scene. He always appeared so at ease, like he naturally belonged under the spotlights. It wasn't lacking of irony for a man who desired to live an average life. Actually Killer had to see him sing to understand why Penguin had rejected all the money and relations his privileged status had given him. Because Penguin was never happier than when he was singing. These moments he didn't buy or arrange them, he made them happened by his own talent.
When his voice rose it vibrated in the whole venue and through Killer's soul. Each time he was hearing him sing felt like the first time. He had heard people growl, hoot, bray, howl, and so much more but he never suspected someone could ever produce such beautiful sounds. Killer first thought he was fooled by his own feelings but he even an amateur like him could tell Penguin was gifted.
Leaned on a blue pillar at the back of the hall, Killer let his ears being lulled by Penguin's voice and his eyes wandered on the rest of the band and their familiar faces. From four initial members the Northerners had grown to a band about ten people, all wearing elegant tuxedos tonight. However a vigilant eye could easily picked the leaders.
There was the unmissable polar bear at the bass, huge and round, always apologizing for the littlest thing. But Bepo was also a heavy fighter you wouldn't suspect him to be seeing how light his fluffy fingers were playing on the strings.
On his right among the wind instruments' players, a killer whale was blowing wildly in his trumpet. Shachi as well as Penguin was the lucky bearer of an animal name and was sharing a similar morphology with the lead singer. But opposite to his friend the fish man had a dorsal fin pointing out of his fancy suit, a huge mouth full of teeth and plain black eyes hidden by his hat. Killer also knew the rich musician was involved in the underworld for many years and there he learnt how to defend himself too.
But the man leading the Northerners from the shadows was the snow leopard on the saxophone. The lion saw him swinging with the music, his spotted tail wiggling in rhythm. Apart from the fluffy ears pointing out of his dark hair there were few fur on his tanned skin, only white patches here and there due to an old disease. His eyelids were closed over his light grey eyes, his feline nose wrinkled as he played. Killer didn't like him. First because he didn't exactly know how deep he was dealing in the underworld and, above all, because Kid seemed to like him too much. In every way the snow leopard was dangerous and Killer intended to keep a close eye on him.
The show went on and time flew like every time Killer was attending to one of Penguin's show. When the presenter announced the last song, the lion realized he had let himself be carried by the music once more. He didn't want to go already even if knew he had some time left with Penguin tonight, he had work to do… but he was sounding less and less convinced. Maybe he could rely on his friends just for tonight?
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His ears twitched on top of his hair as the music started way louder than he expected. Usually the last song was slow and romantic, an exercise Penguin was mastering like no one. A hand on his microphone and the other holding the hem of his hat, just low enough so he cast a seductive glance to his audience, he proved that the instrument he was playing the best was Killer's heart.
Well, it's a marvelous night for a moondance
With the stars up above in your eyes
A fantabulous night to make romance
'Neath the cover of October skies
And all the leaves on the trees are falling
To the sound of the breezes that blow
And I'm trying to please to the calling
Of your heart-strings that play soft and low
And all the night's magic seems to whisper and hush
And all the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush
Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love
Can I just make some more romance with you, my love
Killer couldn't help grinning, knowing deep inside him he couldn't deny Penguin such requests. They had established very soon that, for their own safety, their relationship should remain unknown from the mafia bosses coming to the club; In spite of the risks Penguin always had a song for his lover. And the lion loved how daring he was turning on stage.
Well, I want to make love to you tonight
I can't wait 'til the morning has come
And I know now the time is just right
And straight into my arms you will run
And when you come my heart will be waiting
To make sure that you're never alone
There and then all my dreams will come true, dear
There and then I will make you my own
And every time I touch you, you just tremble inside
And I know how much you want me that you can't hide
Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love
Can I just make some more romance with you, my love
The rest of the song completely went over Killer's head because he only had one thing in mind now, get that penguin off the stage to his arms, to his bed. He wanted them to go dancing all night like they used to, then go back home to Penguin's attic room, a little unsteady with their head's spinning, kissing passionately on their way back, uncaring of everyone else but them.
Notes:
The songs in this chapter are:
- Gangsta's Paradise - Vintage 1920's Al Capone Style Coolio Cover ft. Robyn Adele Anderson (Postmodern Juxebox)
- Moondance - Michael Bubblé
This chapter is dedicated to the The Sweet Wiskers a.k.a the Kilguin Chat, I couldn't put everyone in this passage but I hope you'll appreciate your inclusion in this story ;)