"This'll be easy," Trilup promises, as she drags Aviri towards the Boathouse - the otter 'nightclub' where even now the sound of the jugband (Emmett and the Oggtones) can be heard. "All you have to do is get Fimble to take you back to her barge, then swipe the map her dad has of the underwater landscape, then escape! With the map, and what we know, we should be able to find Swampy's lair lickety-splat."

"I hope not," Trilup says, and looks around before lowering her voice. "We want the Chalice for ourselves after all, right?"

Aviri nods, not immediately responding to the comment. "So, we have to ... go in there?"

"Well.. yes!" the otter notes, waving a web-fingered hand in the air. "That's where Fimble is! You just gotta shmooze over and do your Lapi thing, right? When she's all gooey you ask her to go someplace private.. like her room. She takes you out to her barge, you do what you gotta, then sneak around and find the map. I'll be waiting outside to take you back to shore. Easy-peasy-queasy-greasy!"

The Lapi gives Trilup a look of disbelief, but says nothing to contradict that plan. "Right," he says to her, "easy." He seems about to hunch into himself and take the crowds like one would take a cold day, but just before walking in he stands up straight and strides forward with apparent confidence, his hands clenched tight at his sides.

The Boathouse
Once upon a time, before the swamp rot attacked the wood, this was a good sized boathouse at the end of the main peir. Then it was a warehouse for awhile, used to store some of the stinkier components of the tanning trade. Once the walls started to fall apart, however, it was simply taken over by the Oggtons as a spot to party, with easy access (via holes in the walls and floor) to the water, and far enough out that nobody would complain about the noise. A basic stage sits at one end for musicians, and at the opposite end a board over two standing barrels serves as a sort of bar.

The night is young, so the crowd hasn't gotten completely drunk yet. There's still an almost-full barrel of scumble at the 'bar', and it's mostly younger Akwavi so far. Emmett is on the stage, singing about how "A Wizard's Staff Has A Knob On The End" while a few otters try to dance to it.

"That's her!" Trilup whispers to Aviri, and points to the corner where an odd Akwavi is sitting on a barrel. She's a little plump, but the most noticeable thing about her is that her left eye has a white iris, there's a single narrow band of hair growing down the middle of her head that's been dyed purple and pink, and she has some sort of bone going through her nostril - as decoration, though, not one of her bones growing out..

Aviri looks at the otter, and then to any possible candidates around the otter for Fimble. He walks foward slowly, his eyes flickering in thought as to how to approach this woman. When he arrives, he apparently settles on a simple and fairly timid "Hello," providing a half-wave to accompany the lame greeting.

Fimble blinks at the Lapi, then slowly looks back over her shoulder to see if there's someone standing behind her, impossibly crammed between her back and the wall. Finding no one behind her, she slowly looks back to Aviri and points a finger at her chest just to be certain he's addressing her.

"You're Fimble, right?" Aviri asks as if he knew exactly who he was looking for.

Aviri tilts his head slightly. "Do people normally ask you about chalk? I may be a bit out of the loop, but that seems an odd thing to approach someone at a party to ask about."

"But you're a Chalk," Fimble points out. "So.. you sell chalk. And bunnies. But you aren't carrying a bunny so.. Uh, hello, I'm Fimble. Oggton. Fimble Oggton. Just Fimble Oggton, though, not Fimbleoggton Fimbleoggton like it might have sounded. But just Fimble is easier. And.. you already knew my name so.. uh.. who are you?"

Aviri gives a timid little bow. "Nnice to meet you," he says. "I'm Aviri." He prounounces the name cleanly and clearly, just in case there might be any confusion as to how it sounds. "Chalk, as you pointed out." He seems about to continue, but, though his mouth seems to be trying to form words no sound comes out besides a few unsure vowels.

"Is that a type of nut?" Fimble says into the silence, then looks like she wants to smack herself in the head for asking that.

Aviri shuts his mouth at the comment. He glances at Trillup then back to Fimble. "I, uh, you wouldn't, by any chance ..." he stalls again, but recovers with "Are you calling me crazy?"

Trilup throws a bit 'thumbs up' and smiles when Aviri glances her way. Fimble looks horrified by the question though. "What? No! I just.. you guys get named after stuff like that a lot, don't you? I thought Aviri was a kind of nut or berry then.." she babbles, and then covers her face with her paws.

"Oh, n-no," Aviri says quickly, too quickly to catch the stutter. "It's just a name. Wasn't accusing you, really. Didn't mean to embarass." He looks away, as if either ashamed of going on, or unaware of how to do so.

"Um, what did you want?" Fimble finally asks, peaking between her fingers with her odd eye.

Aviri looks again to Trillup. "Sorry," he says, though whether to her or the odd(er) Otter peeking through her paws. He turns to Fimble and says, "I nneed a map. Of the floor ... er, the bottom of the swamp. And I became aware that you might ... have access to such a map."

"My dad's map?" Fimble asks, pulling her hands away to look.. disappointed, somehow. "Why do you need that?" she asks.

Aviri looks at his feet and mutters something about compiling some research on the swamps and he 'needs the map, or a copy, for reference of various data points' or something like that. It's kinda hard to hear under the din of the club.

Aviri looks up with an odd expression on his face. "Should I?" he asks, the hints of a smile on his face.

"Join the club," Aviri says. "If there were a club. Club of people people think are crazy." He pauses. "Doesn't sound ... clubby."

"What makes you crazy then?" Fimble asks, getting a big grin. "And do you have any money?"

Aviri tits his head a bit. "D-" he clears his throat. "Do I have money? Uh ... a bit. And p-people think I'm crazy because I hate crowds." He casts a glance over his shoulder.

"Hence why I think I'm crazy," Aviri says looking around hiself. "How do I ... buy ...?"

"You go over to Fudge there at the bar," Fimble notes, pointing an otter that's actually wearing pants - overalls, actually. "You give him a coin and he'll give you a cup of scumble! It's pretty amazing."

Aviri removes a few coins from his pocket and examines them as if he were examining a new plant. "I ... 'll be back, then," he says slowly and heads for the bar, checking over his shoulder to make sure Fimble doesn't run off.

The otter has a big smile on her face, and is almost bouncing on her barrel. Trilup is near the bar, and asks, "So, how's it going?"

"Getting a drink, apparently," Aviri says, trying to get the attention of the 'Fudge' at the bar.

"Oi there mate, what's yer poison?" Fudge asks, even there's clearly only one poison available.

"Cuppa scumble," Aviri says, "if you don't mind." He looks at the coins in his hand. "Make that two."

"Not both for you I hope!" the barkeep barks, then produces two wooden cups, which he inspects carefully for holes or worn spots. He then slowly fills each from the barrel tap, making sure not to spill any. It smells strongly of apples, like a cider. "Here you go lad, be careful!"

Aviri givers Trilup an odd look as he hands Fudge a couple coins. "Thanks," he says and, taking both cups and saying, "Back to it," walks carefully back toward Fimble.

"Wow, you actually did it," Fimble says, impressed. "You bought me a drink! And you're gonna have some too!"

"Both for you," Aviri says, sitting down at the barrel. "Don't drink. Er, I don't."

This.. causes Fimble to actually swoon. "Oh wow, two.. two whole cups!" she mutters, biting her lower lip. "Are you sure you aren't in love with me or anything? You haven't even asked why I'm crazy."

Fimble takes a slow sip from the first cup.. and Avira can see her whiskers curl up from the fumes. "Oh, because I talk with rocks," she notes.

"People think I think that they talk back," Fimble explains. "But that's crazy. Rocks don't talk." She has another sip of the powerful cider, then explains with a boozy exhalation, "They sing."

"Makes sense," Aviri lies, though his ear twitches a bit. "You like the cider, then."

"Sure you don't want any?" Fimble asks, warming up a bit. "Wait.. you think singing rocks make sense? What.. uh.. what do you do, if you don't like crowds? Are you a rughrat shepherd? You don't smell like wool."

Aviri shakes his head, mumbling something about changing the way people behave, probably talking about alcohol though, again, it's difficult to hear. "I'm a botanist. I study plants. Forest, swamp, mountains, rivers, wherever. Outside, away form ... people. It's nice. Have to come back to do stuff, though. Take jobs, find and gather certain things for certain people. That kidna thing."

"I fish," Fimble notes, and licks her lips. "Well, I mend nets. And collect singing rocks. Do the plants ever do anything interesting? Do you talk to them? Are there any that make you see weird things?"

"Was almost bitten by a tomato, once," Aviri recalls. "A few plants produce hallucinations, I think, yes. Don't know much about them. Mostly just what plant lives where, and why. Not so much the 'what it does' side of things."

"Then.. how do you study them?" the otter asks. "I mean.. if you don't know what it's for, why learn where it is?"

"Because learning what they do would require either being around people, or eating things myself. Don't do the latter, and ha ... dislike the former," Aviri says. "Also, others already know effects. Needn't step on toes when I don't have to."

"That's weird," Fimble claims, and sips more scumble. "So you're looking for places where plants grow in the swamp then?" she asks.

"Among other things, yes," Aviri says. "Want to factor water currents into it. And the floor would affect that, provide clues as to it, and possibly give insight to ... other things. Soil composition, and the like." He looks away awkwardly.

"Is this about the dredging?" Fimble asks in a whisper. "I know the Wingnuts are gonna dredge up some old soil from under the swamp. Do you know how to dance?"

Another sip, and Fimble turns to sort of lean against the Lapi. "What do you for fun? Do you have a hobby?" she asks.

"I thought that was your work," the otter notes, slurring a little. "You actually have fun doing that too?"

"Yeeees," Aviri says, confused. "Do you not have fun with your work? What's the point of being insane if you can't have fun with it?"

"Well.. fixing nets isn't fun," Fimble claims, and has another sip. "The rocks are fun. And.. you know.. swimming and chasing fish and playing pranks and wrestling and fighting. The usual stuff. You do more than just go out and collect plants though, right?"

Aviri thinks about this. "I ... walk. And look around. Sometimes I just sit down and read some books. Saying it aloud ... you think I'm boring. It's fun. For me, at least."

"Yeah, it sounds really boring," Fimble admits. "But I see why people think you're crazy! I mean, you wouldn't be for a Kadie or even a Skeek.. but Lapi aren't known for being solitary sorts." She finishes off the rest of her first cup, and exhales a cloud of booze-fumes that makes Aviri's eyes water. "Am I boring? Most of the others think so, even if I look interesting."

"Exactly. Not social. Ergo, crazy." Aviri blinks away the fumes to the best of his abilities. "And I have the problem of muttering to myself, on occasion. About plants. Learned to ... keep it quiet, for the most part."

"Lapis are like, always muttering," Fimble notes. "Nice to know they're muttering to themselves about plants instead of.. me. So, you must have otter friends though, right, or you wouldn't be here or know who I was!"

Aviri glances toward the bar. "A few who'd call me friend, probably," he says. "Though makes me wonder why."

"Well, you seem nice enough," Fimble notes, and then giggles after sipping from her second cup. "Unless it's all a ploy to get me to do something embarrassing! Emmett didn't put you up to this did he?"

Aviri gives a sheepish smile. "Aww, thanks," he says. "Naw, nobody ... er ... nobody put me up to this."

"So.. do you like my bone?" Fimble asks next, with a big grin. She even wiggles her nose so that the ends of bone bob up and down. It looks like a Creen bone - they're usually used for needles after all.

"Well.. it gets me noticed?" Fimble claims. "And actually.. well, I use it for mending the nets, and stuck it in there on a dare. The hole is healed open now, so I gives me an easy place to keep my needle."

Nodding again, Aviri says, "Makes sense." Though he manages it this time without the twitching ear. "Very handy to have all your stuff right near you. Or ... in you? Personally, I carry a satchel."

"Not usually," Aviri says. "I carry ... stuff. A few books, pen, ink, plants. That's basically it. Plants, mostly, and things for recording them. Left it at home today. Not going hunting."

"Oh.." Fimble says, takes another sip.. and then tries to tickle Aviri's side with her free hand.

Aviri scoots himself away from the attack as discretely as possible. "So, you enjoy the cider?" he asks.

"I thought I'd make you laugh!" Fimble says, sounding defeated. "You don't seem to be having much fun. And yes, I am enjoying it! I guess you want the map too of course.."

"Sorry," Aviri says. "Just ... a bit uncomforatble here." He motions to the crowd enjoying the night and drink and music.

Aviri reluctantly takes the hand, muttering to himself about the effects of alcohol.

There are a few hoots as they pass through the crowd and exit the building. Not they they go all that far - just around the corner to the edge of crumbling dock, looking out over the swamp. Fimble sits on the edge of a plank and pats the spot next to her.

Aviri obediently sits on the unsteady wood, seemingly not caring if he gets wet. He looks out into the swamp silently, his right hand slowly hiding itself in his pocket.

Fimble just dangles her legs and drinks some more. "You can swim, right?" she suddenly asks.

"I didn't come in a boat," the otter points out. "I can carry you though! I can show you my rocks before we get the map for you. Do you want to hear my rocks sing?"

"I.. maybe five minutes? Seven if you're heavy. You look like a floater though! You just have to grab onto me good.." Fimble claims.

"How long would it take for me to swim," the Lapi clarifies. "I can swim. Don't ... won't get carried."

"Uh.. twice as long, maybe?" Fimble guesses. "I don't know how fast Lapi can swim.."

"Want the last sip of scumble to keep you warm?" Fimble offers, holding out the wooden cup.

The otter downs the last of the drink, sets the cup aside.. and flops forward into the water several feet below.

The swamp is still warm from the day, but likely won't stay that way. "Can you see me okay?" Fimble calls. At least her hair stands out clearly, where a dark, wet otter might not.

"Yeah, lead on," Aviri says, following the otter with assurance and confidence. He's not a stranger to swiming, though isn't as fast as a creature born to the water would be.

Fimble tends to weave back and forth, but not because she's drunk. Aviri realizes that she's just trying to match the rabbit's slower pace through the water. It seems to take some time.. but Aviri begins to sense others in the water, so they must be getting close. Now to just avoid curious otters poking him with their noses..

Aviri soldiers through the crowded waters anxiously, but won't let himself give up. The stories told to him of this cup thing make him too curious.

There's a splash as Fimble dives under the water ahead, only to rocket up a moment later and land on the deck of a nearby barge. She shakes herself dry and waves to Aviri. Most of the barge is covered in.. fishing nets. Drying ones, folded ones, ones on giant loom-like structures. There isn't a lot of clear space.

Curious or valuable plants are often in difficult places, so Aviri has no trouble finding a place on the dock. Getting up is a bit of a problem, as the nets disallow for a proper grip on the dock. But he gets up with at least a bit of his dignity intact, shaking the excess water from his hands and ears as he stands up. "Good swim," he says, though seemily more to himself than anyone.

"Thpptstt," Fimble goes, holding her hands over her muzzle to try not to laugh. "You guys look weird when you're wet," she finally says. "Wait here a minute.." And then she's off through a narrow door into the living cabin. It's less than a minute, actually, until she returns with a dry blanket. "Here."

Aviri accepts the blanket and unsuredly wipes himself dry, as if afraid of what might be on it. After his head is sufficiently frazzled he hands it back. "Thanks."

"You're the first guy I've ever had over," Fimble says, and winks. "Follow me!"

Aviri follows the otter, but more cautiously this time, his ears lifting a bit from his back as if to listen for some kind of ambush ahead.

Inside the cabin, things are a bit cramped. Akwavi are pretty active, so don't spend a lot of time in their rooms it seems - which tend to be small. There's no hall as such, but everything surrounds a large central area with a moonpool in the center, along with a ceramic heating stove. Fimble's 'nook' is on the far side, but the barge seems uninhabited at the moment. The girl shifts a nest-like pile of beddings aside to uncover a wooden box. "Here they are!"

Aviri stops his obersvation of the barge to go over to Fimble. He opens his mouth, but doesn't say anything, and shut it, watching her.

The box is opened, revealing a collection of odd rocks. Some are long, some very round, some have odd holes in them or bizarre shapes. She holds one up that has a bunch of holes running through it, none of them straight. "This is Whistler," Fimble introduces the rock. "Blow on him!"

There's an eerie whistle produced. "He sings better if you blow across the holes, since there's a bunch," Fimble notes, already bringing out another rock that oval and shaped a bit like a plate.

Replacing his grip, Aviri blows across the holes, more curious now than cautions.

It's a bit like an actual tune now, especially when the rock is turned, changing the airflow and those the 'chord' being played. Fimble is rubbing the plate-like rock with her palm, moving it in a rapid circle and creating a sort of ... whum-whum sound. "Some sing when you hit them in the right places with a stick, or a bone or another rock.."

Aviri's beginning to have fun with the sounds, trying to get a single tune, or even play a simple melody. He finally stops and looks at her. "And you're crazy for this? It's ... music."

"These are the ones that work," Fimble explains. "Most of them don't, so.. people see me blowing and rubbing and hitting rocks for no reason and figure I'm crazy. But sometimes I find one that sings, so that makes it worth it, right?"

Fimble smiles right back! "I like you! Am I ever gonna see you again once you have the map?" she asks.

Aviri says, "Is that how that works?" Aviri asks, making an almost harmonising pair of notes with a rock. "I'll keep that in mind.""

"Anyway, I guess I'll get you the map," the otter says, putting the plate rock back into the box and getting up. "Wait here!" she says, before disappearing into a different, blocked off section of the cabin.

Aviri waits patiently, fiddling with the rocks to the best of his abilities. He's not that good, and doesn't know too many songs anyway. His eyes every so often flick between the door Fimble went behind to the exit of the barge, but he remains firmly in place.

The girl eventually returns with a waterproofed leather scroll case. It's pretty big, almost three feet long! "Before I give you this, you gotta promise to bring it back when you're done," Fimble notes. "It's a family treasure and all, from way way back when the Oggtons first got here."

Aviri puts the rock down and looks her in the eye. "Your map will return unharmed." He thinks a moment. "Could probably make a copy and get it back to you in a few days, anyway."

The otter's white eye glints back at Aviri, and she says, "Okaaay.. gotta seal the deal though!" And then.. Fimble closes her eyes and puckers up for a kiss.

The non-white eye is opened, and Fimble looks at Aviri with it. She depuckers and says, "You gotta kiss me! As a bond and stuff, so I know you'll bring it back. It's like spitting on your hand and shaking!"

Looking between his hand and the drunk otter, Aviri says, "You know, a few people have thought I've been put up to something by someone else. I'm beginning to suspect Parsley's behind some of the stuff in my life...." He takes a very timid step closer to Fimble.

The otter's tail wags, and she grins. "Well, I don't get many kisses you know, so it's a big deal!" she claims.. and puckers up again. It looks.. weird.

Aviri leans in hesitantly, trying not to look like he's about to get hit by a tsunami.

Fimble is starting to look uncomfortable waiting like that. But then.. she clearly doesn't know how to do this any more than Aviri does.

That seems to be enough. At least it doesn't transfer much of the scumble flavor. Fimble opens her eyes, and hands over the scrollcase.

Aviri accepts the tube, checking its seal to make sure it's closed properly. "I'll, uh, try to get this copied as soon as I can. Probalby hole up in my room for a few days. Thanks ... er ... thank you."

"When you come back, maybe I'll let you play with my really neat rocks," the otter tempts, trying to sound coy. "Are you gonna be able to swim okay with that thing?" she then asks a bit more seriously.

Aviri nods. "I can do it. Thanks, though. Uh ... where would you be so I could return the map?"

"Oh.. uh, I guess just check at the Boathouse?" Fimble says, rubbing the back of her head. "I'm there most nights."

"Okay, sounds good. See you there, then. Thanks again." He stands there awkwardly for a moment, tapping the tube on his hand, before walking toward the exit.

"Next time we can snog if you want!" Fimble says. Once back on the deck, Aviri spots a familiar looking lantern, as Trilup poles her skiff closer.

Aviri looks at the boat-wielding otter with a moment of surprise. He waves his free hand. "Trilup?" he asks. "What're you ...?"

"I told you I'd be here to help you escape," the Akwavi notes, bringing the skiff alongside the barge. "So, you got the map? Leave Fimble all curled up and happy?"

"Well.. yeah I figured I would," Trilup notes. "We need time to look over the map and stuff, and it's late.."

Aviri gets into the boat slowly, carefully. "Yeah, about that, I was going to just copy it. Got enough stuff back home. Keep this one safe."

"You can copy a map?" Trilup asks, pushing away from the barge. The question is clearly indicating surprise that Aviri would have that skill, rather than the notion of a map being copied being new.

"I draw plants daily. I can copy a map easy," Aviri says, possibly over-confidently. He's not even seen the map, yet.

"Don't know," Aviri says. "However long it takes me to copy the map. I'll return it to Fimble then. I'm sure you'll find me."

"Okay, I'll have someone spy on you for me then!" Trilup says cheerfully. "There's always an Otter Scout around after all.."

Aviri seems to ignore the comment, staring off into the water, holding the map tube tightly. "Should be fun, though," he says, "when I'm finished. The search, that is."