Calaisee Lewyre
@Lily Lesse
The red-furred fox had never been a big reader. What was there to say for it? Writings were always a reflection of the past, something scribbled in a time and place where it might have once been relevant, a crutch for beasts of leisure who thought themselves smart. No, more often a tool of the powerful, some way to shape a beast’s mind, to make him or her see the world in a way it wasn’t. A sleight of hand, like any other.
Still, as she watched the beasts in the opera house mill about, fattening themselves on the rewards of their treachery and their opportunism, she thought of a Ratin phrase she’d read once – one of those dead language quips the prissy, bespectacled intellectuals from the university loved so much – something from early in the Imperial histories, the glories of which their rulers seemed so determined to forget and disdain, in order to mold something new and perverse in its place.
Sic semper tyrannis. Thus always to tyrants.
She walked the ditzy server carry the poisoned cake out to Talinn, satisfied that part of the plan was in action. The traitor deserved to choke on it. Fates willing, he’d live just long enough to see the twisted, unnatural society he’d butchered so many good, loyal foxes to build blast apart before his eyes.
Calaisee smiled then. Coming up from behind, she threw her arm around Lily Lesse, no doubt surprising her. She’d been looking for the beast who’d poisoned the cake, to no avail, but it was good to see the smaller vixen had seen the task through regardless.
“Beautiful, innit? Party’s shapin’ up better’n I thought it would.”
It hadn’t been her plan. Of course, the beasts under her command didn’t need to know that, nor to know the plan hadn’t even come from Scythe, the leader of the Vengeful. No, she knew this came up from higher, from one of those shadowy beasts Scythe went to see alone, in the dark. Whatever money and power was on their side had put this all together. Whoever it was, she didn’t ask. Whoever had that kind of pull – who could unite the gangs to put together this kind of mission – if they wanted to stay hidden, it was probably a safe bet they could remain hidden. Maybe even right that they should.
“Proud ’ve ya, y’know. Playin’ servin’ girl to all those ‘tids ‘n woodlanders – whole rotting mess of ‘em. Gettin’ that other vixen t’take the cake out? Real finesse...”
She pulled Lily further off to the side in the kitchen, where nobeast was bound to hear. Calaisee hadn’t much a mind for stealth like the orange-furred vixen did, and though she wore the looser, white garb of the kitchen staff, she didn’t wear it properly, the ends of her shirt flowing out over where hidden daggers no doubt lay. She’d been working hard to get some tools ready for the next phase of the plan, and wasn’t going to stick to her cover when she was sweating her tail off.
“Listen, ya did good, Lily. This next part? Ya don’t have t’be ‘ere for it, hear me? Gonna be a right mess, ‘n we don’t need any more names on the wall back at the Skull House.”
Calaisee’s eyes flashed, as though she could impart the danger that awaited on the slight fox with little more than a look. Oh, she knew the vixen was loyal. No doubt about it. Probably as brave as any other beast Scythe and the leaders of some other participating gangs had thrown together for the mission. But she was a spy, a good spy, maybe, but not a soldier. If she wanted to back out, if she had any doubts at all, this was the time make that known.
~~~
Vihmastaja Rhoodie
@Morgan Liu
Vihma watched the iron-clawed fox leave them, her eyes still lingering on the metal appendage. She thought silently of what had really taken the beast’s paw from him, her mind going back to the Hide, to Greeneye, with his hook for a paw. Greeneye, in the infirmary, bleeding from too many wounds. To Morgan on the operating table, worked over by the ship’s doctor, breath faint, blood -
She seemed to flinch as the ferret elbowed her, surprised for a moment before she let her smile return. Morgan was here, with her, the two of them safe and well as could be, wining and dining on the best the Ministry of Niceties had to offer, sharing air with the cream of the city’s thoroughly fermented crop.
When she spoke, her voice was softer than it’d been, as though the swirl of conversation, ambiance, and music around them didn’t exist – as though it was just the two of them.
“Aye, I’d love that, mate.”
In truth, she hadn’t quite heard all that Morgan had said. Hadn’t quite paid attention – more admired how the sandy-furred ferret looked dressed up in something more colorful than a navy jacket. Perhaps, if she had heard the words about Urk, she’d not have been so carefree. In the moment, such matters were beyond consideration.
~~~
Aiken Brudenell
@Dusk Rainblade @Orina Emberkin
Aiken had lingered in his field long enough to recognize the sort of answers politicians gave when they didn’t want to reveal something. Of course, Orina and Dusk’s answers had been quite the same, and that lended credibility to what was said. But the choice of MAUL entanglement had to go beyond typical security concerns, didn’t it? After all, if protection from the normal threats posed by the harbor was the extent of the game, wouldn’t it have made more sense to procure guards from the Ministry of War or Ministry of Justice?
Still, the stoat gave a polite smile for the answer, happy just for the access he was getting. Not many beasts of his station could claim conference with so many high-ranking officials at once. His luck even continued to improve, as Talinn excused himself, and the Minister of Misanthropy set him up for an interview with the Minister of Niceties.
Adelyn tugged at his arm, beaming, and for the first time since seeing the beast who’d taken his future from him, Aiken felt his own spirits again match hers. This was his chance to make a name for himself.
“I would be so honored,” the young journalist managed, striking something like a little bow for the Minister of Niceties.
“And – begging your pardon, sir – I’m sure the beasts of our great city would love to know more about you and your brilliant career, shone so clearly through the lens of its most trusted newspaper.”
