Creativity Is Key ((OPEN))

[Rook]

"How come nobeast comes up here, anymore?" Trace Galahad was only visible from the waist down as he submerged himself in a large trunk. His big, bushy tail twitched back and forth, collecting dust motes floating through the shafts of sunlight that filtered through the window. His twin sister Cyle kept watch at the door, half her attention on the hallway.

"I don't know," she replied with a shrug. "More stuff for us, obviously." She rubbed some dust out of her half-blue eye, flicking one ear in the direction of a noise. But it was just her brother, rifling through the old belongings in the trunk.

"Their loss," he laughed, emerging triumphantly (and dust-covered) with a faded brown hat perched between his tufted ears. "I'm definitely keeping this!" He then dove back into the trunk, his torso hanging halfway off the rim. "Hey, you want this?" He popped back up again, a pair of earrings dangling from his paw.

Cyle blushed brightly, folding her arms impatiently. "No, I don't want those, numbskull," she snapped irritably. "Thanks to you, I can't wear them. Want me to get you a knife, scarface?"

Now it was Trace's turn to blush. He mumbled something about touchiness and rubbed the scar on his lip before tossing the jewelry back into the trunk and dropping down again. "Got some twine here," he announced after a minute. "An' didn't ya say we needed two hooks? I ain't even findin' one in here."

"Hmm, we might could find some in another room," Cyle mused. "We can't just use the twine. It'd get damaged, and--" She halted mid-sentence, frozen as she listened to the hallway outside the room. What was that noise? Trace stopped moving, as well.

And then they heard pawsteps coming closer. No fair! Their scheme couldn't be found out before it was begun! Trace jumped back into the trunk and Cyle followed. The lid slammed shut loudly, and both squirrels cringed. Hardly daring to breathe, the twins had to choke down their sneezes. The dust had to be two inches deep in this thing!

[.:Fawn:.]

And then they heard pawsteps coming closer. No fair! Their scheme couldn't be found out before it was begun! Trace jumped back into the trunk and Cyle followed. The lid slammed shut loudly, and both squirrels cringed. Hardly daring to breathe, the twins had to choke down their sneezes. The dust had to be two inches deep in this thing!

"Where on earth did little Tiggle go?"

A small noise of dismay escaped the ottermaid's mouth, her honey-hued gaze sweeping across the room in vain. That hogbabe was nowhere to be found! Oh that little scamp, when I get my paws on him-- Freya Shellpaw lost her train of thought as her sensitive ears picked up on what sounded like heavy breathing, or gasping -- no, it was sneezing! So somebeast WAS up here after all, and Freya would bet her right paw it was that troublemaker Tiggle. "I know you're in here, best just to come out while I'm still in a good mood, or else I'll let the Skipper to chop off your tail!"
her voice was a sing-song kind of warning, as though she wanted to sound serious without being too strict on the hogbabe, after all, he was only a dibbun. Just then, Freya's gaze zeroed in on the trunk, which seemed to have been disturbed just moments before -- considering their were paw marks on the otherwise extremely dusty trunk lid. Grinning, the ottermaid crept closer, holding her breath as though it might prevent the floor from creaking and giving away her position.
"AHA! FOUND YOU!" Throwing the trunk open, Freya's face light up in surprise, expecting to find a grubby looking hogbabe -- not two dusty, sneezing squirrel twins she'd heard stories of.

Oh dear. Not THESE two.

Cyle and Trace were the kind of miniature villains that would talk a dibbun into doing something dishonest, or lie straight to your face, or better yet, ignore authority in all it's forms -- even from the Skipper of Otters sometimes, and he was normally so good with children.
"What are you two doing here?" Freya inquired, interest piqued. No doubt up to something...mischievous.

[Rook]

"AHA! FOUND YOU!" Throwing the trunk open, Freya's face light up in surprise, expecting to find a grubby looking hogbabe -- not two dusty, sneezing squirrel twins she'd heard stories of.

Cyle and Trace jumped in alarm, their eyes wide. They were just as surprised as Freya. But they were both glad it wasn't the abbot, or even the skipper. Then they'd be in deep. As it was, Cyle could probably weasel the two of them out of this situation. But it would take a lot of--

"What are you two doing here?" Freya inquired, interest piqued.

Cyle regained her composure quickly, wiping dust from her tawny nose. "What does it look like we're doing?" she snapped. "Exploring, obviously." That was all she should say. Too much of a backstory complicated things to the point of making the story sound more suspicious than it should.

Trace's famous wicked grin returned to his face as he straightened his new hat and rubbed his nose. "Yeah, an' we're findin' some good stuff, too," he added innocently. "Lookit this hat, huh? I'm gonna keep it!"

Hopefully the ottermaid would buy the story and leave. But of course she would probably ask them why they were in the trunk, and then things might get uncomfortable. Not that things weren't uncomfortable already. But Cyle was easily able to keep a level head.

[.:Fawn:.]

Cyle regained her composure quickly, wiping dust from her tawny nose. "What does it look like we're doing?" she snapped. "Exploring, obviously."

"Oh really? My guess was going to be hunting for dust bunnies." The ottermaid snorted. Cyle was quite the little cynic for being so young -- her brother was no better.

Trace's famous wicked grin returned to his face as he straightened his new hat and rubbed his nose. "Yeah, an' we're findin' some good stuff, too," he added innocently. "Lookit this hat, huh? I'm gonna keep it!"

Freya looked at him, countering his wicked grin with a lazy smile of her own. "Oh it's a nice hat, sure. Though I'm not too partial to keeping things that belonged to deadbeasts, brings bad luck, I hear." Well, personally Freya thought digging through any deadbeast's stuff that wasn't from her family was...well...weird. It was almost like grave-robbing, minus the 'grave' part. Watching them brush dust off themselves, the ottermaid's brow furrowed.
"Any particular reason you were hiding in the trunk? Unless of course, you two are up here without permission -- or supposed to be somewhere else? Or maybe you're hiding from Skip or Father Abbot?" She brushed some dust off of Trace's shoulder, holding back a sneeze of her own.
"That seems about right, considering it's the infamous Gallahad twins."

By 'infamous', she really did mean infamous. Those Cyle and Trace were trouble-times-two for anybeast inside or near Redwall Abbey. They were never 'just exploring' or 'just looking'. There was always a catch.

[Rook]

"Oh it's a nice hat, sure. Though I'm not too partial to keeping things that belonged to deadbeasts, brings bad luck, I hear."

Trace took off the hat as he and his sister climbed out of the trunk. Studying it with one raised brow, the squirrel checked it all over, half-expecting a ghost or something to fly out of the brim. Cyle rolled her eyes, guessing her brother's thoughts. "Honestly," she scoffed. "I doubt you get back luck from a stupid hat."

"Any particular reason you were hiding in the trunk? Unless of course, you two are up here without permission -- or supposed to be somewhere else? Or maybe you're hiding from Skip or Father Abbot?"

Cyle rapped her knuckles on the lid of the massive trunk. "Have you seen the size of this thing?" she said snidely. "We weren't hiding in it, we got caught inside. Because my brother was so hell-bent on that hat." Trace stuck out his tongue at her, repositioning his hat between his tufted ears.

"S'not ladylike t'cuss, Cyle," he teased. She shoved him irritably, but it wasn't nearly enough to knock the athletic male aside. He grinned once more. Their attention went back to Freya with the ottermaid's next words.

"That seems about right, considering it's the infamous Gallahad twins."

Trace clasped his paws behind his back, scuffing the toes of one hind paw on the floor sheepishly. "Aw, you're makin' me blush, Mizz Freya," he giggled, still grinning. Cyle polished her claws on her russet dress haughtily, smiling in satisfaction.

"Oh, well, thank you," she gushed, straightening her dress. "We do take pride in our work. However, be that as it may, and believe it or not, we really were just exploring up here. You can find all sorts of useless old junk up here, y'know."

[.:Fawn:.]

Cyle rapped her knuckles on the lid of the massive trunk. "Have you seen the size of this thing?" she said snidely. "We weren't hiding in it, we got caught inside. Because my brother was so hell-bent on that hat." Trace stuck out his tongue at her, repositioning his hat between his tufted ears.

"Got stuck inside you say?" asked Freya in feigned surprise, as though she totally believed them. "Geez, I figured somebeast would start calling out for help if they were trapped -- especially if they were upstairs in a place they shouldn't be in." Folding her arms over her chest, the ottermaid chuckled, bright honey brown eyes all a-glitter. She let it go for a minute or two, however, when Cyle tried to once again, convince her that their only purpose for being up here was to explore 'all of this useless junk', as the cunning little squirrelmaid had put it. Yeah. Uh-huh. Sure.
”Are you two putting an act together for the Autumn Festival?” The ottermaid inquired casually, honestly wanting to know. It would be kind of a waste if they didn't at least come up with something. Freya wouldn't tell them, but they were some of the most creative young minds in Redwall at present. She knew Mrs. Krell would be presenting another fabulous painting for the autumn festival, Koa and the other dibbuns would probably be putting on a cute little skit. Skipper would probably do a mock dramatic sword fight with the Abbey Champion, Rook & Duncan were working on some songs...
Even though Freya herself had entered to do something, the ottermaid was a little lost for ideas.

[Rook]

"Got stuck inside you say?" asked Freya in feigned surprise, as though she totally believed them. "Geez, I figured somebeast would start calling out for help if they were trapped -- especially if they were upstairs in a place they shouldn't be in."

"You know, you're a decent actress yourself, Miss Freya," Cyle remarked, tactically avoiding the question. Her Cheshire-cat smile returned and she added, "Your delivery needs some work, but I'm sure that will develop, given time." Trace snickered, wiping more dust off his scarred nose. The twins were obviously in their element. Giving the go-'round to other beasts was what they did best.

”Are you two putting an act together for the Autumn Festival?” The ottermaid inquired casually, honestly wanting to know.

The squirrels glanced at each other. They guessed each other's thoughts instantly, and their expressions turned into delighted surprise as if to give off the message, Oh, how did she know? Cyle took it from there.

"Indeed, we are," she chuckled, perching on the trunk. "What do you think so far? Trace flubbed his lines once or twice, but I think it's coming together nicely. Of course, we haven't decided who's going to play your part yet."

"Yeah, every beast who's come up t'try hasn't bin any good," Trace chimed in. Then his face went sour, and he shot a look at his sister. "I did so not flub my lines." Cyle rolled her eyes again.

"Yes, you did, blockhead," she told him sharply. "You were supposed to say, 'Do you like this hat?' not, 'Lookit my hat.' That's not how I wrote the script." Trace waved a paw in dismissal.

"Same thing," he snorted.

[.:Fawn:.]

"You know, you're a decent actress yourself, Miss Freya," Cyle remarked, tactically avoiding the question. Her Cheshire-cat smile returned and she added, "Your delivery needs some work, but I'm sure that will develop, given time."

Freya snorted -- an actress? Nahhhh. Silver-tongued little demons. "I'd rather be on Skipper's crew than actress, as fun as that looks -- and what do you mean my part? I'd be able to give you both a better opinion if I knew what this play was about."
Even if she didn't entirely trust them, Freya was somewhat intrigued as to how those two were going to weave an intricate web of lies surrounding that hat. It was just a hat, for Martin's sake! What fabulously enchanting play could they possibly come up with on the spot?

Unless of course, the pretty ottermaid was wrong about them all this time, and they really were minding their own business.
"What kind of play is this supposed to be? It's not some kind of depressing tragedy, is it? There are going to be dibbuns at this festival, you know." Expecting another snide remark, Freya busied herself by reaching for a nearby dusty old book that had been catching her eye for a good minute or so, brushing a thick layer of filth off the worn, stained cover. Making a face, the ottermaid wiped the grime off onto her apron, turning the book a bit so she could read the words upon it's spine.

((xD kinda just rambling, lol))

[Rook]

"I'd rather be on Skipper's crew than actress, as fun as that looks -- and what do you mean my part? I'd be able to give you both a better opinion if I knew what this play was about."

"The play is precisely what you're experiencing, Miss Freya," Cyle began. This was going a lot more smoothly than she'd anticipated. Was Freya really this gullible? Maybe Cyle was just that good. The thought made the squirrel smile again.

"What kind of play is this supposed to be? It's not some kind of depressing tragedy, is it? There are going to be dibbuns at this festival, you know."

"No, no, of course not," Cyle replied, waving a paw in dismissal. "Those are so overdone. No, ours is much better than a tragedy. It's still in the rough stages, but I imagine it something like this: The beast who plays your part will be coming upon us just as we make a discovery, i.e. the hat."

"The hat's jus' a extra thing," Trace added. "We're actually gonna be lookin' for somethin' else."

"In our play, the sword of Martin is missing," Cyle went on. "Everybeast is out looking for it, but there's been no sign of it. So, somebeast like you is searching for it at the same time we are, and, even though we're still innocently searching for the sword, you think we're up to no good."

"You send us t' our room right afore we'd find th' sword," Trace took up the story. "An' then it ain't ever found."

"Until," Cyle interjected. "You decide to find out why we were so intent on searching through the trunk. Then you find it and viola!" She snapped her fingers. "Happy ending."

Heavens above, was this really working? Cyle's sharp mind was already melding this lie with her current scheme involving the hooks. Oh, if the abbot found out, he'd throttle them . . .

[Stryker]

So, how mean would she sound if she told them what she honestly thought of this play? Oh well, it absolutely needed to be said.
"I hate to break it to you two, but that's an extremely boring play." What did they take her for, an idiot? Alright, enough was enough. "I really admire your efforts on this one, considering it was on-the-spot'n'all, but seriously, what are you two up to? And have you seen Tiggle the hedgehog? I have to find him for bath time, if you can at least tell me that much," the ottermaid placed a paw over her heart, as if swearing an oath.
"Then I promise to leave you two to whatever dastardly scheme you're cooking up."

Did they think they were the only ones with cards to play? One of the best parts about being an older beast was that you were able to call for backup when needed -- especially for disciplinary reasons. "Well? Spill it, trouble makers, or else I might let slip to Father Rommel that you're up to no good again -- and that you may end up ruining the autumn feast." Winking at them mockingly, Freya placed a finger to her lip as though in thought, "Hmmm, I wonder what he'll do? Maybe he'll leave you to help out Brother Halifax? You know how much he dislikes festivities -- and trouble makers. I don't know about you, but cleaning out bedpans while otherbeasts are partying in the Great Hall seems more than a little unfair."
Alright, Freya wouldn't admit it, least of all to these two, but sometimes it was fun playing the villainous type. It gave a beast certain power they wouldn't normally have...

[Rook]

"I hate to break it to you two, but that's an extremely boring play."

Cyle rolled her eyes. "I said it was in the rough stages," she scoffed. Well, what had Freya expected? An epic? Still, though, the twins were sure the play wouldn't be considered boring at all once this latest scheme came to fruition.

"I really admire your efforts on this one, considering it was on-the-spot'n'all, but seriously, what are you two up to? And have you seen Tiggle the hedgehog? I have to find him for bath time, if you can at least tell me that much,". . ."Then I promise to leave you two to whatever dastardly scheme you're cooking up."

"Up to?" Cyle repeated irritably. "I just told you what we're up to, in case you didn't hear me. We're trying to practice our boring play, if you don't mind." Though she did seemed mildly pleased at the term 'dastardly scheme'; it described their situation well.

Trace answered the ottermaid's second question. "We ain't seen Tiggle, though," he said, twirling his hat around one paw.

"Well? Spill it, trouble makers, or else I might let slip to Father Rommel that you're up to no good again -- and that you may end up ruining the autumn feast." Winking at them mockingly, Freya placed a finger to her lip as though in thought, "Hmmm, I wonder what he'll do? Maybe he'll leave you to help out Brother Halifax? You know how much he dislikes festivities -- and trouble makers. I don't know about you, but cleaning out bedpans while otherbeasts are partying in the Great Hall seems more than a little unfair."

Cyle's ears flattened in anger. She crossed her arms huffily. "Yes, that does sound unfair, and thus Father Rommel probably wouldn't let it happen," she countered. She knew Rommel's system, having been subjected to it plenty of times. The abbot, though just, was light when it came to actual punishment.

"But I didn't know yew 'ad blackmail in ya, Mizz Freya," Trace added with a grin. "Shore ye don't wanna part in our play?"

[.:Fawn:.]

Cyle's ears flattened in anger. She crossed her arms huffily. "Yes, that does sound unfair, and thus Father Rommel probably wouldn't let it happen," she countered.

"But I didn't know yew 'ad blackmail in ya, Mizz Freya," Trace added with a grin. "Shore ye don't wanna part in our play?"

The ottermaid matched Cyle's pose, well, minus the huffiness and the anger, book still in paw -- Freya smiling at the twins with a belying innocence, not about to give up just because the female of the two was getting a little cross with her. Hah, Cross... That reminded her. What was that big brawny otter up to these days? She hadn't been able to see him lately, what with the feast preparations and her father watching her like a hawk...

"Well, maybe Father Rommel would be a bit soft on the two of you," she agreed. "But Skipper won't -- you know he hates his ruined feasts." The ottermaid brushed some dirt off her apron.
"Aaaanyway, I'll help you with your 'play'" -- she used air quotes on this one -- "if you help me find baby Tiggle. It's a win-win. Surely you two can appreciate that kind of deal?"

Usually they went for a win-lose, but only if the other beast was the one on the losing side... However, what did they have to lose, in this case? A bit of their time, maybe, considering it would take a bit before they tracked down that little runaway hedgehog.

[Rook]

"Aaaanyway, I'll help you with your 'play'" -- she used air quotes on this one -- "if you help me find baby Tiggle. It's a win-win. Surely you two can appreciate that kind of deal?"

The twins glanced at each other again, arching their brows almost simultaneously. Trace shrugged, raising his paws a little. Cyle lifted one shoulder, tilting her head to one side. Their silent exchange ended with a synchronized nod. "Fine," Cyle agreed, speaking for both of them.

She dropped off her perch and her brother followed as she made her way towards the door. "And if you're really going to help us with our play," Cyle went on. "We need to find two hooks. Preferably big ones." She spread her paws about six or so inches apart to give an idea of just how big.

Trace nodded agreement. "Aye, it's furra 'portant scene," he chimed in. "Win we preten' th' sword--" Cyle elbowed him.

"No details on the script until I have it finished," she told him, stepping into the hallway. "Let's just find the little scamp, already." The truth was, Cyle knew that too much of a backstory to a scheme put it in jeopardy. Beasts began to question every detail, which the twins sometimes didn't have answers for. In fact, the squirrel regretted mentioning the play in the first place.

Oh, well, if things went as planned, there would hopefully be no play. She and Trace sped into the other old dormitories, calling out the hogbabe's name and searching in some likely hiding places. The whole time, both squirrels were on the lookout for those big hooks. But they didn't mention this to Freya.

[.:Fawn:.]

"And if you're really going to help us with our play," Cyle went on. "We need to find two hooks. Preferably big ones."

The ottermaid nodded, her intelligent honey-colored eyes reflecting the light from a nearby cobweb-covered window. "Alright. Let's meet outside here if you find Tiggle." After she and the twins departed, Freya immediately went to search some of the upper dormitories -- the ones belonging to the older residents of Redwall, knowing perfectly well that was where she'd go if she were a curious little hogbabe.
"Tiggle...Tiggle... Come out please! Freya has a nice big bowl of candied chestnuts for you if you come out!" Calling out in her sweet, singsong voice, it was easy for anyone to believe she really DID have a bowl full of candied-chestnuts for the little troublemaker, but truth be told -- sweets was the LAST THING she'd ever give baby Tiggle. That creature was trouble with legs. Not unlike Trace and Cyle...however, the infamous squirrel twins couldn't exactly be bribed by tasty candies or any kind of food for that matter.

They could be bribed with, however, something they wanted. Or better yet, needed.

While she had been searching the dormitories, Freya had stumbled upon the bait and tackle box belonging to one of Skipper's crew-mates. In that box were, fortunately, two very big hooks -- the kind used to catch very large grayling and a few beastly looking trout that sometimes swam in the River Moss. Well, so long as we bring them back, there shouldn't be too much fuss. It wasn't exactly a good season to fish anyway. The rivers were getting colder and the trout were getting fewer...

Heading out into the hallway, Freya caught sight of the twins crossing into another of room, and she smiled triumphantly, holding up her paw to reveal the hooks hanging from her wrist like jewelry.
"Found 'em."