Sly Cooper fanfic9
Special Thanks to Jammin Jabala for allowing me use of his OC: Julius Black...
Set after Dead Men Tell No Tales, and before the Cooper Vault Job(BCVJ). The adventures that were never told...
Sequel to Melancholy and Repent...
On board the Gallantry. St. Helena, United Kingdom 1836 hours(6:36 PM)
After enough supplies had been purchased and collected (stolen), the crew of the Cooper ship, the Gallantry, loaded the cargo on board. Below deck, the brawn of team, Murray, was installing a ShocTech42 gun turret, which Quartermaster/Drill Sergeant J.B. Wilson had purchased, onto the team van.
While on the island, the cougar had talked about a Humvee, a motor vehicle with a turret installment on top. This reminded Murray of his van's previous turret, which his best friend, Sylvester J. alias "Sly" Cooper, had manned before on their trip to Clockwerk's fortress. Unfortunately, the hippo was a little too careless and destroyed the turret as he drove into a cave.
To make up for the loss, Murray had asked Wilson to purchase a gun turret for his vehicle, and with the blueprints from the Thievius Raccoonus, they were able to redesign the turret onto the van, making it a mean, lean, riding machine.
As they screwed in the final screw, adjusting the turret firmly onto the van, Wilson stepped back and observed the vehicle. "No disrespect Murray," he started, "But are you sure this van is capable for a Humvee's qualifications? It's more of a hippie-mobile than an assault vehicle."
"Of course it is," the hippo replied, taking a seat in the front seat, "I might not look like much, but it's lasted through badder things than you can think of."
"Don't be so sure. I can think of a lot of things," he challenged, as his girlfriend, Neyla, entered.
"Hey 'Sarge,' are you done yet?" the white tigress asked, "You're needed somewhere by someone."
Wilson turned, "By the Captain?" he guessed.
"No," --she came closer, leaning on him-- "by me. I need to go shopping for new clothes, and I need someone to tell me which looks good on me."
The cougar smirked, "Don't you have a shipload of seamen who can tell you that, or are you concerned one of 'em will propose?"
She chuckled, pushing him playfully, and then pulled him into a kiss. Murray's confident and without a care smile faded, allowing a bit of depression to fill his lungs as he watched the couple made-out. When they ceased they left the room, leaving the hippo to think.
Murray just could not understand these couples, nor the word "love." He had a pretty good life for a criminal, living and traveling with his two best friends, Sly and Bentley, a shipload of treasure, along with treasure to be hunted, his own ride to customize all he wanted, but up until now, he realized that he was lonely. He did not have a girlfriend of his own, and he could only observe the others who had felt the feeling before: Sly with Carmelita, Bentley with Penelope, etc.
The hippopotamus tapped the radio on his van, which ironically began to play a love song. A song he would never understand. Unlike the others, he had never met a woman in which he found "attractive," and even if he did, would she have the same thoughts for the lights of him? As the song played its course, Murray felt empty inside. Where in the world could there be a woman for our favorite hippopotamus?
In the captain's dorm, Bentley looked over the Seeker's Scroll, the map of Captain Algernon. After a few days on St. Helena, the turtle had mostly deciphered the golden, hexed scroll. The red X's represented the locations of treasure, most of the ancient pirate's loot most likely hidden under lock and key. The blue skeleton keys, from the turtle's hunch, must represent something of a key, perhaps to the said locks he believed hid the treasure. Finally, there were the black, jar-shaped marks, and what Bentley found unusual was that there were only five black marks on the map.
This forced the turtle to ponder, apparently there were these jar-like shapes all around, and there were only five of them. If Bentley did not know any better, he would say that the black marks were pretty important to some type of ritual. As for the treasure they were hunting for, which appeared to be in India, Bentley was a little curious, because the treasure was marked with a blue key.
A key? Bentley thought, tapping his chin with his fore finger. Obviously, the key the Scroll was leading them to must be the key to another treasure. A red X treasure. That must be locked down. The turtle was astounded, he could see why the Seeker's Scroll was leading them to India to find this so called key, it was cooperating with them. In fact, it was as if it was some type of intelligence... on their side.
Suddenly, Sly Cooper himself walked through the door, his family crosier cane in his hand, with the "C" shaped tip at the top. "Hey Bentley, the ship's all loaded up and we're ready to go in half an hour. 'We still up for the Arabian Sea?"
"Affirmative. India, to be precise. We're searching for a mysterious key in this area," --the turtle marked the state of India with his finger-- "the map points the direction, in the East from here."
The raccoon thief bent down and spotted India on the Scroll, along with the arrowing pointing East over the map, "A key? A key to what?"
"That's what I'd like to know, we'll have to go there and find out what it is and what it unlocks," Bentley told him, "It's only a week of sailing, as long as we don't have any delays, we should get there in no time."
"Alright, when everyone's one board, we'll get sailing," Sly replied, turned away and left the dorm. On the way out, he thought of India, where he, Bentley Murray when to steal the wings of Clockwerk from the royalty buyer, Rajan.
He had recalled the party, the heist, the breaking and entries, but what he reminisces of that night was when he danced with his favorite police officer, Sergeant Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox, with her even suspecting a thing. Sly had wished he had kept the picture of Carmelita that night, her hair done up, her face covered in make-up, and that rose-colored dress that would make anyone drool. Yes, it was a night no one could forget.
Here it is folks, the next chronicle. What you all have been waiting for, a story about your favorite hippo, the Murray! Note, it will get a little erotic and scary in future chapters, at least for the males, just a warning.
PS, this is a little something for my friend, Jammin Jabala, one of the most dedicated Murray fans I have ever met...