Furotazzis Open The Slups A Direction Worth Selling

While Ivo managed to not even flinch, keeping his roguish grin on, internally it was a massive surprise that this stiff justice-seeker voiced his support based on empathy for his cause. Of all possible things, Ivo expected to speak to his sense of equity or equality. Luckily, the golden fox was one of those unfortunate. Ivo even exactly knew the orphanage Aramaeus have mentioned. It was run down at best, further reinforcing Ivo's conviction that even those who master the letter of law naturally seek nothing but freedom from it.

"I'll take any help I can. It's good t'have sum assistance. More so when ya too see the value of it. Am much obliged." Ivo took the paw of the golden fox sincerely. He wasn't lying about his intents nor his gratitude. But he might have omitted a few smaller things. Like the fact he would use those to further benefit his intel gathering operations. The grin turned to more of a smile. "What's ya name? I will make sure to take them drafts of yers and send me mail back to to you. With ya help, I hope I'll be able to make sum beasts very unhappy that they cannot ruin lives of poors again." And to make sure he would get hooks on them. All in all, great outcome, thought Ivo while still shaking other fox' paw.
 
Aramaeus bit his lip, trying to settle the queasy feeling in his stomach. Technically speaking, he assured himself, he was not providing any legal consultation to the fox; he was merely provisioning him with forms, and the requisite instructions, that were in theory publicly available. He surely couldn't be reprimanded for that, could he?

"I'd much prefer if my name were kept clear of this venture," he stated, trying to convey neutral disinterest. "I am not acting in any capacity as a representative of Justice in this endeavor, and would like to avoid misrepresenting myself as such." The words Aramaeus Lemon, Minister of Justice stood ironically on his lapel in defiance of this statement. "If, however," he added, "we could meet periodically for a casual drink, I'm would be quite eager to hear about the fruits of this venture - and to ensure that you are kept in stock of forms which, per law, are to be made available to the public at no cost. The exact means by which those forms are provisioned are quite suitably left to interpretation." He couldn't keep a small amount of prideful strength from entering his pawshake, however. His attempt to bust open the pawn shop's affairs may have failed, but he'd at least accomplished something today.
 
Ivo nodded along to Aramaeus’ Words. He was actually fond of keeping his name out of it, even as he could blatantly see the other fox’s one on his lapel. That meant, his own name was going to be kept secret. No need to lie this time. Also, the prospect of meeting this beast for a drink was reasonable. But Ivo knew instantly that in no way he could allow for such meeting in any tavern or pub here in Slups. Considering his existing reputation, it wouldn’t take long, even for someone with less than average social capabilities, to figure out who Ivo is.

“Naturally.” Spoke the red fox with a modicum of enthusiasm. “I’d fancy such meetin’. Am sure after all there’ll be plenty times am gonna use yer forms. I live at Zann’s. There’s pub by them big workhouses… Factories they’re called I think?” Ivo took a second to think. Not being sure of a word was always a good excuse to stop for a second. He needed it to decide which place would be the safest. He didn’t mind walking to a locale further away from his actual home, but he had to make sure it seemed natural. There was one pub mainly for the workers of those factories. It was crowded which was both a boon and the curse. Ultimately, after considering this warrior of Justice lack of ability on how to act and hide his identity, Ivo considered the other establishment he had on his mind. One however that was expensive and where he occasionally sold industrial secrets Also it was visited by the very beasts we was trying to counteract with the forms Aramaeus were to provide.

“Anyways, ‘Silver Sisters’ 's the pub ya'll find me at least bi-weekly on Sunday. It’s a good place. Busy 'n civil servants there ain’t gonna cause ruckus." He finally said out, maybe just a tad bit too quickly. Said establishment was a cabaret that... could cause troubles considering he now had a hard to name yet relationship with Marianna. Still, he was going there for business, that is something she surely would understand.
 
Griblo winced as the badger’s arm clamped down tighter, flattening him like a pressed herb. He sucked in a strained breath through his teeth, tail twitching pitifully.

“Emil,” he wheezed. “Gud name, that is!”

His eyes darted toward Grubbage with the urgency of a beast trying very hard to remain uncrushed.

“Take it, mate! I’ll hook ’im up wit’ a proper job an’ he’ll be gud fer it, promise!”

That was when it happened. Emil’s massive paw rose and gave the ferret a playful little pinch just behind one ear.

“Yyyyooouuuch!” Griblo shrieked, immediately squirming like a wet eel. He flailed in place, kicking dust up from the shop floor.“Dat really hurts, mate! Quit it! I’m delicate!”

He twisted and wiggled, slapping feebly at the air with one paw while the other tried to protect his poor, pinched head.
 
Grubbage heaved a sigh so deep it rattled a teacup two shelves over. He watched with grim resignation as the badger, still clamped to the ferret, got fresh ink smeared across his quilted armor and continued to squish Griblo like a particularly noisy throw pillow.

“Aight, aight, fine!” he barked, waving one paw in surrender. “Release da’ fool an’ sign yer slip already. Twelve gilders now t’ leave me in peace!”

Honestly, if four gilders bought him an end to this chaos and a quiet shop again, it was looking like the bargain of the century.

Grabbing a second quill from the drawer with practiced bitterness, he began scratching out a new form to reflect the updated agreement. He didn’t even look up as he addressed Griblo.

“Where ya’ even gettin’ ’im a job, mate? Don’t tell me dat freak Ruffano’s got another scheme goin’…”
 
Ivo nodded along to Aramaeus’ Words. He was actually fond of keeping his name out of it, even as he could blatantly see the other fox’s one on his lapel. That meant, his own name was going to be kept secret. No need to lie this time. Also, the prospect of meeting this beast for a drink was reasonable. But Ivo knew instantly that in no way he could allow for such meeting in any tavern or pub here in Slups. Considering his existing reputation, it wouldn’t take long, even for someone with less than average social capabilities, to figure out who Ivo is.

“Naturally.” Spoke the red fox with a modicum of enthusiasm. “I’d fancy such meetin’. Am sure after all there’ll be plenty times am gonna use yer forms. I live at Zann’s. There’s pub by them big workhouses… Factories they’re called I think?” Ivo took a second to think. Not being sure of a word was always a good excuse to stop for a second. He needed it to decide which place would be the safest. He didn’t mind walking to a locale further away from his actual home, but he had to make sure it seemed natural. There was one pub mainly for the workers of those factories. It was crowded which was both a boon and the curse. Ultimately, after considering this warrior of Justice lack of ability on how to act and hide his identity, Ivo considered the other establishment he had on his mind. One however that was expensive and where he occasionally sold industrial secrets Also it was visited by the very beasts we was trying to counteract with the forms Aramaeus were to provide.

“Anyways, ‘Silver Sisters’ 's the pub ya'll find me at least bi-weekly on Sunday. It’s a good place. Busy 'n civil servants there ain’t gonna cause ruckus." He finally said out, maybe just a tad bit too quickly. Said establishment was a cabaret that... could cause troubles considering he now had a hard to name yet relationship with Marianna. Still, he was going there for business, that is something she surely would understand.
Aramaeus nodded, wondering what this 'Silver Sisters' was like. He rarely got out into the city's nightlife; vices were seen as unbecoming of an officer of Justice, and even a drinking problem could be enough to label a beast as unreliable, tanking a promising career. "That is suitable for me," he confirmed. "If we must communicate, I suppose personal advertisements placed in the Saturday Evening Smelt shall suffice. You may refer to me as... Goldfur," he decided, "and I shall call you Heartwood." At one time the Goldfur-Heartwood Vendetta was famous throughout Bully Harbor, or at least of mild amusement to the denizens of Zann's Backyard. It had truly gained historical note when the youngest children of each family, Anithias Goldfur and Julia Heartwood, had eloped together and taken the last name of Freedom. Both family names had died out now; the Goldfur children had all come to unfortunate ends, and the Heartwood merchants had picked the wrong side in the civil war, resulting in them living in exile.

Besides, it's a clever historical allusion that no one else would get. And what is there to link us to those names, beyond the coincidence of our fur color?
 
Ivo blinked slowly, considering the words for the moment. Codenames were a usual thing, nothing unusual with having them. But it was the reference Aramaeus made with those. Ivo, while growing among criminals, had only heard scraps of the legend of those two. Still, he had heard of them, and liked the subtlety of it. "Sure... Goldfur. I doubt I'll ever have t' send ya any message via Smelt, good t' know though that's possible. I'll be at the Sisters' next week, waitin' fer ya. I might've different clothes, but I assure ye, there ain't as many foxes as red as me." Ivo chuckled and looked around, the weather got better and while it all was a good distraction, he could see by the sky that he was already needed at the next place. There was a warehouse that he had to inspect for fire hazards... and to map where the smuggled tea within it lies. "T'was nice to meet ya. Yer contribution will help me a lot." Ivo waved his paw goodbye while already padding deeper into the docklands, only entering the first dark alleyway in habit of making himself hard to track. He himself wouldn't get lost in this city anyways.
 
"Don' tell me everyone up here izz'is soft!" Emil looked down to the "delicate" ferret wrestling against his arm and at last raised his paws into the air to release him at Grubbage's command. "Weh heh heh heh!"

He'd sign the new form as it was presented to him, writing a single legible E and filling the rest of the space with a scrawl vaguely about the length of "Emilio." Dipping a paw into his purse, a few coins- two fivers and two one-ers, twelve Gilders total- then met the table. "There y'are." He put his attention on Griblo, his... creditor? Employer? And anticipated instruction on this job business.
 
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