The Slups A Night to Remember

[Silvertongue Songfox]

It had been about a week since The Hide had returned to the mainland. Silvertongue and Greeneye tried to go back to their normal life as best they could. Despite Silvertongue's best efforts to avoid it, they had been tracked down by Falun's henchbeasts and 'invited' back to the Lilting Lily. As if they had forgotten about the debt. No, Silvertongue hadn't forgotten. He had been keeping track of the money. Most of it being squandered by Greeneye's incessant need for drink and illicit entertainment. Once they arrived at the tavern, Silvertongue wasted no time handing over the heavy bag of gilders to Falun. The debt paid in full, with some money to spare for savings. He was relieved for a moment, until he suggested they rent a room from him. They were staying in some ramshackle tavern near the docks, after all, and with the pirates still after them they would need protection.

Greeneye accepted the offer before Silvertongue had a chance to protest, and then went right back to drinking. Silvertongue stopped himself from saying anything foolish, and he went to the other tavern to retrieve their things. He knew he would need more time to get Greeneye to stop his drinking and gambling, so he may as well get settled in. Once he had retrieved their things, he got them all settled into the room Falun offered them, which was actually quite nice. He was putting his spare outfits in the closet when Greeneye walked in- stumbled in actually, swaying and reeking of booze.

"Yew- HIC! Yew shtill have dat silly pink dress?" He asked, pointing to one of the more colorful outfits, a pink doublet with purple shirt and trousers.

"Yes, Mother picked that one for me, and I won't be getting rid of it." Silvertongue replied.

"Ye-ye should put it on- I ain't ever seen ye wear it."

"I distinctly recall you saying that I shouldn't be caught dead wearing that on your father's ship."

"Well, we ain't on me farder's ship no more, is we? Put it on!"

Silvertongue sighed. He probably should check if it still fit. So, he relented and changed out of his current attire, putting on the overly garish clothes, much to Greeneye's delight.

The drunken rat was clearly struggling to contain his mirth, snickering and clasping his paw over a wide grin on his face.

"Well, let me guess." Silvertongue said, turning to Greeneye as he put the pink hat on. "You think I look ridiculous, don't you?"

Greeneye burst out into raucous laughter, doubling over. "Oh, HELLS TEETH, Silvie! Yer dressed like some dammed bleedin dandy pansy sissy!" He jeered. Silvertongue rolled his eyes at these comments. He was more than used to them from strangers, but it kind of stung hearing it from Greeneye.

Without warning, Greeneye grabbed Silvertongues paw, and dragged him out to the floor of the Lilting Lily.

"Hey, mates!" He called out to the bargoers. "Look at this ridiculous outfit Silvie's wearin'!"

Silvertongue was stunned. He wasn't expecting to be thrust into the center of attention wearing this, and he felt a heavy blush forming on his face.

 

[Falun Furotazzi]

There was a chorus of laughter from the various 'Tazzis in attendance, one followed by silence as Falun, who had not joined in, set down his cards and rose from his table. "Lily," he directed the tattooed barmaid, "go up to my closet and retrieve the shirt furthest on the left. Serge," he addressed one of his men as the sullen vixen headed for the stairs. "Would you ever wear pink?" His paws went to his collar and pulled free his Ascot, followed by shrugging off his coat and waistcoat.

"Oh, 'Gates no sah," the jack responded adamantly.

"Why not?" His paws started to work at the buttons on his shirt.

"Er... 'Cuz it's a sissy color sir."

"If you saw a male wearing pink in here, what would you do?" His words were crisp and clear: either his usual Slups accent was an affectation, or he was putting one on now to make a point.

"Er... I'd make fun of 'em, sah. Maybe give 'em a good thrashin'."

"I see. Ah, thank you Lily." He pulled off his gray button-up shirt and dropped it on the table, then accepted a shirt of a soft rosy hue. "Serge," Falun asked, his tone still conversational. "What color is this shirt?"

Serge blanched. "Er... It's a very pale red sah."

"Don't play coy," Falun snapped as he shrugged on the shirt, beginning to button it up. "What color is it?"

"It's, ah... It's pink, sah."

"It is. Now, there's a male wearing pink before you. What are you going to do?" The hard challenge in Falun's eyes met a tremble and evasion in Serge's gaze.

"Er... Sah, I ain't gonna..."

"What? You lose your courage?" Falun raised his hackles, baring his teeth as he rolled up his sleeves. "Come on, here you have two males wearing pink in front of you, and you're standing there like a mute."

"It's different, sah!" Serge protested, his tail hiding between his legs. "His looks like a dress!"

"And that's a bad thing?" Falun challenged.

"Yes sah! It's a sissy thing!"

"My sister wears dresses," Falun pointed out. "Does she seem 'sissy' to you?" He'd retrieved fresh gauze from the pocket of his coat and was replacing the soiled bandages over his knuckles with fresh, clean linen.

"Er... I mean, kinda sah. She's literally yer sistah."

"Are you insulting my sister to my face?" There was a harsh edge to Falun's voice.

"No sah! I'm just sayin', it ain't masculine ta wear pink or dresses!"

"So," Falun assessed, stalking around the table, "You're saying that only sissy cowards wear pink or dresses, and that they'll get beaten up if they do. But, you also say that you'd never wear them. From the sounds of it, that makes Silvertongue far braver than you, if he'd do something you never would."

"Sah, I -"

Falun raised his arm and drew back his fist, and sent it rocketing toward the jack's face. He halted it at the last moment, just an inch from the trembling mafioso's snout. Falun sneered, loading his arm. "You're a coward, Serge. Look at you, pissing yourself with fear of getting beaten up by a male in pink." Indeed, there was a dark spot spread across crotch of Serge's trousers and running down the legs. "Clean up the mess you're making on my floor," he snapped. "Then get yourself out of here. I don't want to see you for the rest of the night." As the soiled jack slunk away, Falun turned to the rest of his men. "Anyone else want to get in a laugh?" he challenged. He was met with silence. "Good," he declared. "Now, get to work, you layabouts."

The golden fox approached Silvertongue, now all muscle and bruises wrapped in pink. "I think 'at outfit looks very charmin' on ya, Silvertongue," he addressed the fox, his accent slipping back to normal.

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue and Greeneye both were stunned into silence, Greeneye still swaying somewhat drunkenly.

"I- uh..." Silvertongue found himself at a loss for words. He had never expected Falun to stand up for him, let alone stand in solidarity WITH him. "Th-thank you... though- I think that the color looks better with your fur... th-than it does with mine."

Greeneye sneered at this comment. "Well, if'n yew two love wearin' pink so much, why not go out on the town wearin' it, huh?"

Silvertongue glanced over at him. "Go to bed, Greeneye, your clearly drunk beyond your senses."

Greeneye muttered and he threw his paw into the air before turning and stumbling off to his quarters.

Silvertongue turned to Falun. "I'm sorry about him, and about this. You didn't have to do that for me... I-I think I'll go change into a different outfit now."

 

[Falun Furotazzi]

Falun's paw latched onto Silvertongue's upper arm. "Nah," he stated firmly. "Are you really gonna let the opinion of a drunkard keep ya from wearin' what ya want? I wear this shirt 'cuz I don't care what them idiots think. Their opinion doesn't matter." He gestured toward the bar with his other paw, an invitation. "Tell ya what," he invited, "how 'bout I tell ya the story of this shirt, an' you can decide then if ya still wanna change yers?"

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

"Alright... maybe I will tell you the story of my shirt as well. Though, I won't be drinking any sort of alcohol. Maybe one of those... what did you call it? A spritzer?" Silvertongue reluctantly allowed himself to be guided over to the bar. It wasn't as if he could wrench himself from Falun's grasp. Better to just play along for now. He knew just how easy this beasts temper flared up.

 

[Falun Furotazzi]

Falun chuckled as he approached the bar, Silvertongue in paw. "You wanna spritzer, you get a spritzer, an' no one, me included, is gonna give you guff for drinkin' what you want. 'Ey, Tony," he called to the bartender, "two spritzers, ey? Make one virgin."

They slid into their seats as the bartender went to work on the drinks. "So," Falun explained, "it all started abou' ten years ago. I was risin' in th' ranks back then, earnin' Vito's favor. Well, Marianna was learnin' the trade too, the white collar kind - being a bookie an' so on. Well, back then we were scrappin' wiv' a rival gang, an' 'ey figured they coul' send us a message if 'ey struck at th' Family where we'd least expect it. So, 'ey lured me an' Vito an' th' best a' our guys out to what was supposed to be a parley. Well, th' other side never showed. We came back to find Marianna in 'er office, beaten somethin' awful."

His paw clenched as he recalled it. "You don' know 'ow low it is, goin' after family in our business. Now, by the code, since she's in the biz, Anna was a valid target, so we didn' 'ave cause t' go ta th' other families an' get a casus belli against 'em. I considered goin' after 'eir family in turn, 'urtin' 'eir femmes t' repay fire wiv' fire, but Vito forbade it - th' other side didn' involve 'eir femmefolk in war, an' if we'd done 'at, 'ey coulda come after Vito's blood family. So, instead, I started small, found a minor cousin 'o was in the biz, an' I beat the life outta 'im. I made 'im suffer, bled 'im righ' good. It wasn't until I were done 'at I realized I'd been wearin' my bes' white shirt, an' it were covered in blood now."

He accepted his drink as the bartender placed both spritzers before them, and he took a long sip. "'Gates," he sighed, "'at's pretty good. Normally I drink 'ard liquor, but I'll tell ya, a fruity drink 'its th' spot sometimes." He set the glass down, running a pawfinger around the rim as he spoke. "We 'ave some pretty good launderers, but even 'ey couldn' wash all th' blood outta th' shirt. Th' end result was it jus' turned pink. Well, 'ey apologized an' offered t' give me my money back, bu' somethin' sparked in me 'ead. I told 'em, 'Nah, I wanna keep it.' From 'en on, each time I wen' out an' delivered vengeance on on a' 'em wot 'urt my sister, I wore 'is shirt, an' each time I brough' it back t' the cleaners drenched in red. Each time I got it back a li'l darker pink 'an before. By th' time 'at I finally worked my way up t' the scum wot ordered th' 'it on Anna, I'd dyed it wiv' the blood a' every male in 'is family." He gestured to the pink shirt he wore today.

"E'er since, 'is shirt 'as been my beatdown shirt. Whenever summon's 'urt my family in a way 'at can't be forgiven, an' an example needs t' be made, I put on 'is shirt. Naw, in all th' Slups, e'eryone knows the scariest thing ya can see is Falun Furotazzi in a pink shirt." He grinned as he raised the spritzer to his lips.

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue blanched a bit at this story. "W-well... that is far more... exciting than the story behind my outfit." He took a drink of the spritzer and shuddered a bit, still not entirely used to the taste, even if it was watered down. He swirled the long wine glass about. "It was five, maybe six years ago. I was living with Mother on a separate ship than the one Father was serving on. It was no place for a vixen to safely stay, so he sent her away, and me to keep an eye on her. My uncle was the captain of this other ship at the time, so he allowed mother to stay in one of the Officer's quarters. During this time she took up sewing. My uncle readily provided her with whatever threads and equipment she desired, and after a week or two, she presented me with this." He motioned to himself, before rubbing the back of his head. "I will admit, I was a little embarrassed by it- I was only a little older than a kit at the time. But I took it, of course. Mother told me that I should only wear it for a special occasion, and I've held onto it ever sense."

He sighed. "I never did find a special occasion to wear it for, and now it's been two years since I last saw Mother. I don't know where she's at. This is one of the few things I have to remember her by. Besides this."

Silvertongue pulled out his locket, showing it to Falun. The picture was a small but detailed drawing of a young, bright eyed kit, smiling widely and in a strikingly similar outfit to the one Silvertongue was wearing now. Standing behind him was a tall imposing fox wearing a gambeson, with a dark look in his eyes and a neutral expression on his face. Seated beside them in a soft chair was a strikingly beautiful brown furred vixen with amber colored eyes. She was wearing a floral blue dress and had one paw on Silvertongues shoulder.

"We had to stay absolutely still for the whole day while this was made. Father was furious, but Mother paid for it with her own money she had saved up, so he relented." Silvertongue smiled ruefully, letting his finger trace over the image of his father. "It hurts... that he's gone... but as long as I have this, I can remember his face."

 

[Falun Furotazzi]

Falun Furotazzi at least managed to sit still and feign interest through Silvertongue's story. He politely examined the portrait, noting and somehow sympathizing with the dark-eyes fox who loomed protectively over his family. The last time Marianna had suggested they get a portrait done, Falun had to remind her that, during her brief interest in portraiture, she'd never gotten him to sit still for more than five minutes without cards and a drink in his paws. Sitting still for an entire day sounded like murder.

"Well, I see where ya get yer good looks from," Falun commented, taking another sip of his drink. He brightened suddenly as a rare good idea struck him. "Tell ya what," he suggested, "'ow 'bout we make a nigh' on the town a' it, you an' me? Make wearin' 'at outfit a special occasion - an' maybe give 'at ol' rat somethin' t' be jealous of, 'at 'e didn' think a' it first."