Falun listened, his face as stern as a granite edifice, as the ferret shared all of the history surrounding Silvertongue and Greeneye. His gaze only flickered to Greeneye once when he interjected to tell Boris to shut up, but he didn't speak, letting the ferret finish his explanation. He put up a pawfinger to hush them both as he spoke. "I did say we 'ad a position open," he allowed, "an' I was lookin' fer a beas' t' fill it." His eyes went to the other two pirates, who had turned rather sallow. Crimson on their fronts, at first just spots, was now beginning to blossom across their chests as the wounds inflicted by the wildcat caught up to them. As they each turned pale and then finally fell over on the cobblestones, their life trickling out of the holes in their chest, Falun knelt before Boris.
"So," he said, his tone measured as he put a paw on Boris's shoulder "'ere's yer new job. I need a messenger, summon' smart enough t' relay a message word fer word. The beast I need ya t' find is named Vito Furotazzi. I need ya t' tell 'im that Falun is gonna do righ' by 'im, alrigh'? I'm gonna make th' Family more powerful 'an 'e ever did." His pawfingers closed into a fist, the bloodied iron knuckles settling in his grip. "Jus' try t' keep 'at message in mind," he advised. Then, pulling back his paw, he drove it into Boris's face, repeating the motion until he'd verified that there was nothing left in Boris's mind.
Falun straightened up, slipping the iron knuckles of his paws and handing it off to Greeneye. "Clean this," he ordered curtly, ignoring the bits of brain matter caught on the rough edges. "The rest of you, clean this up. We're here to keep these streets clean, after all." He pulled out a handkerchief, one already turned more pink than red from repeated botched attempts to get the blood from it, and left a fresh red stain on it as he attempted to wipe the blood from his paws. His eyes went to Silvertongue standing nearby, and he approached, somehow managing to loom over the fox despite little height difference between them. His paw went to Silvertongue's shoulder, his grip firm as he tried to catch the fox's elusive gaze. "D' ya understan' why I couldn' let 'im live?" he asked, his voice quiet and... not quite tender, but at least not as full of fire and steel as usual.
~~~
The bartender moved with a professional's speed and grace, quickly retrieving a bottle of spiced rum that looked far too expensive for a bar like this to afford and quickly poured it out into a glass, then retrieved an orange and rapidly peeled a strip to garnish the glass. This he set in front of Ruffano, then turned to the task of mixing a drink for the wildcat. For this he chose a rich elderberry liqueur and retrieved a bottle of condensed milk, an import from a city on the Mahsterious Sahthern Cahntinent*. This was mixed with powdered cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and ginger extract, stirred, and, for sweetness, garnished with a slice of the same orange used in Ruffano's drink. The concoction was set before the wildcat without comment, then the remainders of the orange put on a plate in front of Marianna, who idly began to peel it apart with her claws.
"It certainly sounds as if you could do with a vixen who appreciates true drama when she sees it," she mused, her eyes briefly considering the fox before moving away. She'd tried actors before and, admittedly, hadn't found them quite to her taste either. It seemed she was just as bad as Svetlana in that aspect. Besides, she'd learned the hard way what came of juggling more than one lover at a time. Ivo was certainly enough to keep her busy... and satisfied. She took a sip of her gin and tonic to hide her blush before addressing the fox again. "Perhaps," she suggested, "an investment in the arts would not be misplaced. After all, clearly you have a talent for the avant garde, and as a connoisseuse of the arts writ large, encouraging more innovative and bold expression sounds like a wise use of our gilders." She didn't have much to invest yet; the Obsidian stocks were still yet to take off, and she was relying on this upcoming heist to make the Furotazzis rich again.
The vixen's gaze moved to the wildcat, considering his perspective carefully. It seemed he came from a highly structured society, one where acts of violence were swiftly and brutally punished not just by the law, but by the community writ large. She toyed with the orange, dropping pieces of wedges she'd freed into her drink as she spoke. "The major priests of the land," she stated measuredly, "whether by design or dereliction, have been set at odds with each other for centuries. It has made them, and our land, inefficient. After all, a government that cannot cooperate cannot conquer the challenges set before it. That ethos flows down to the people." She waved a paw broadly to indicate the Slups writ large. "The misery of this city could easily be ameliorated if only its denizens would work together for the public good. Violent crime, sanitation, public safety, food distribution - all of these are problems that can be solved with a little organization.
"Since most beasts lack the vision to act collectively without some greater incentive," she continued, finishing with one half of the orange and moving on to the other, "and since the ministries are too distracted by their petty squabbles to act, it falls to us, the Furotazzis, to have that vision. We were created originally to provide security to beasts in this area, since the Fogey Police would not act - at least, not to protect the beasts who live here. My predecessor built an enterprise that reached into every aspect of this city, providing a way to manage its concerns, to provide what the beasts here demanded when the government failed." That so much of that demand had been for narcotics, alcohol, and other substances was a distasteful aspect of the business, but one that Marianna accepted as a symptom of the city's ailments rather than a cause. The corner of her mouth twitched as she remarked, "In a way, you could call us priests of diversion - we provide what the beasts here need to endure the misery and neglect the other priests inflict upon them." She gave a small shrug as she added, "Who knows? Perhaps someday, we will be strong enough to challenge the other priests again as we once did, to bend them into service to the public welfare once more. For now, we do what we can with what we have." It was a far more noble vision of their organization than Falun would ever endorse, but Marianna saw no contradiction in it. To act outside of the law was criminal, and in Bully Harbor, most beasts couldn't rely on the law to take care of them. The Furotazzis were simply closing the gap between the two sides.
*What exactly was being milked was specified nowhere on the label or the shipping manifest; most beasts found it better not to think about it and just enjoy the taste.
