Recent content by Falun Furotazzi

Falun couldn't keep the sly smile from crossing his face as Silvertongue said the words he'd been hoping to hear. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his pawfingers, his cigar resting between them while he crossed his legs under the table with the ankle over the knee. "Well now," he mused...

Falun hadn't been expecting his aunt to actually strike at him. A lifetime immersed in a casually sexist social environment had instilled in him the implicit assumption that brawling was for males, while things like archery or daggers were femmes' weapons. Thus he didn't see the tray to the face...

Falun couldn't keep the frown off his face as Silvertongue offered an alternative. It made good business sense; Greeneye would always be inclined toward self-destruction, a trait that Falun could capitalize upon, but Silvertongue was more self-controlled. Leveraging his future earnings made more...

Falun let the sneer cross his face, unwisely turning to face his sister's godmother and surrogate aunt head-on. "Oh, aye, Marianna found ih' in our records. Turns ou' Armina Rogue was killin' fer us fer a time. Mighta e'en been 'er firs' kill, 'oo can say. Was an innocent too, a bystander she...

Falun shrugged, making a show of it. "I mean, if ya feel moved by m' generosity," he allowed, "I certainly wouldn' mind ih'. After all, I take care of me men, Greeneye included, bes' when I'm feelin'... well-motivated. An' somethin' tells me Greeneye is gonna be workin' fer me fer a long time...

Falun started, not at the blood coming from Orion's mouth (he'd extracted plenty already, after all), but at the voice of the vixen who stood in the doorway. He stared, the recognition clear in his eyes. "Auntie Tox?" His jaw slackened for a few seconds before he clenched it again. "Shoulda...

Falun's expression turned sour, first at the mention of Vito and his parents, and then nearly into a scowl as the discussion moved to the Golden Hide. "Ya can keep 'at ship, an' 'er fat end as well," he said shortly, leaning himself against the corner of a cabinet and crossing his arms sullenly...

Falun nodded, his own face going grim. "Aye," he agreed. "Y' missed a lo'. Can' say ya weren' righ' in doin' so, though. 'Arbor's been a figgin' mess th' pas' thirty years or so. Wars, tyran's, invasions... I'da missed ih' if I coul'." He chuckled, getting to his footpaws and dusted off the...

Blood spouted as the blow broke open capillaries in Falun's nose that, from years of constant abuse, were almost always exposed and a solid sneeze away from bleeding. As the red coated Falun's lips, he grinned, some of his own blood running into his teeth. The manic glee in his eye was only...

Falun couldn't help but crack a smile at the 'dandy' comment. He'd heard every insult under the sun leveled at him over the years, to the point where most had lost meaning. He never let the sting linger for long, either. After all, it was hard for a beast to keep insulting someone around a...

(Quick out-of-sequence post) Falun frowned, furrowing his brow. "Nah, I ain' talkin' 'at ol' canard," he allowed, glancing between them. "M'... He was fulla it 'at way. Bu' yer mum's Tox, righ'?" he indicated to the siblings. "An' ya say yer 'eir cousin," he gestured to Alwyn. "Ain' Armina...

Falun made a show of considering that point. "I'll allow fer th' 'hardships yer under," he admitted, tapping some ash off his cigar. "Ain' easy, feelin' pressed. 'Course, I don' think jus' forgivin' Greenie's debt'll get 'im ta change. So, I'll tell ya what. I'll cut yer debt down ta...

"Well, sod me," Falun muttered as Alwyn revealed his lineage. Locked up in a cell with a bloody prince, they'd been. Falun didn't quite know how to feel about that one. Vito had always held mixed opinions about the Ryalors, opinions that had filtered down to Falun in turn. If Falun was correct...

Falun, for his part, still seemed a bit dumbfounded by the sheer coincidence of it all. He rubbed at the back of his head, his claw feeling out the lingering wound from where the Fogeys had bludgeoned him (though, to be fair, he'd taken a truncheon over the head so many times his skull must have...

Falun scowled at that. "Don' call me 'at!" he objected, his bloodied and bandaged paws closing into fists. "I ain' nothin' like 'im. I'm a Furotazzi now." He glanced between Lorcan and Jeshal, the dots connecting. "Yer pa is Jeshal th' Ironclaw?" he asked, incredulous. "No way. Don' go tellin'...