Furotazzis Private Zann's Alley/Backyard Tail Fishing

[Ivo Suresight]

(OOC: A thread rather closed for new characters. Please ask first all parties involved here if you want to jump in.)

Ivo was pissed.

Not with the fact he had his arm unusable, it would with time regenerate. Not with the fact he had to flee for his life and fight for it, it wasn't the first to him. Not even with the fact he had to spend a lot of time on managing his own network to cull Supremacists from it and then sending a lot of those he knew of to the jail. He was maybe a bit petty, but he had a good reason.

He would not stay calm when somebeast was endangering his love. And he still had that image of an armoured brute with their mace raised, trying to kill Marianna.

And in his personal mission to bring wrath upon the group that made for it. He had one lead that he wished to investigate very personally. There was a fox, former Niceties who definitely has something behind his ears. He was seen laughing and dancing when the Opera exploded and the attack has started, right in front of the building and just after he allegedly took part in a fist fight with the guards.

Luckily there was quite a lot of information available about them. Ruffano Quickwhistle, a performer, a tailchaser and apparently a con artist. Ivo wasn't however able to find much more. But any lead deeper into the supremacists act was better than none. If Ruffano was one, Ivo had to know.

And him being a tailchaser meant Ivo had an idea.

That is why he now sat at the small rented room in Zann's. With Marianna putting him into a proper drag outfit again and a few Tazzi muscles hidden around to ensure no beast would enter or leave without their permission. Ivo was asking here for a lot of assistance, but he had his very personal vendetta to settle.

He did find a vixen courtesan earlier and paid her to her Ruffano worked up and invited to this place. She was roughly his proportions and he did check he could do her voice. With a bit of makeup, she was also made much redder so that Ivo would not make any suspicion.

Awaiting Ruffano, who was meant to be here in about few minutes. Ivo who was quiet for putting up muzzle makeup, now finally could speak again. Turning to Marianna he looked at her with slight shame for what he was about to do. He did ask before if she would allow for such scheme, after all he was honest toddfriend. But he still felt a bit wrong about it.

"Am sorry fer bringin' ya into this. Really appreciate yer help though..."

@Dusk Rainblade @SwifttailTheFox

 

[Marianna Furotazzi]

Marianna took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She'd found herself doing that a lot lately. She knew she'd been lucky; she'd come away from the Opera House Fire with only minor injuries, in part thanks to Ivo taking the blows for her. Still, she couldn't quite feel safe anymore, not with the knowledge that the vulpinists were still out there, if anything only emboldened by the success of their attack. More than that, she'd been unnerved by how nonchalant Falun had been about it. "I mean, yeah, 'ey're a bit kooky," he'd allowed when she'd told him about the slaughter, "bu' 'ey've reasons fer bein' angry, ya know? Can' really blame 'em fer feelin' like th' country's changin' under 'eir footpaws." The resulting argument between them had netted them nothing but resentment.

And so here they were, her and Ivo, handling the problem their way. It was impressive how many names Ivo had been able to feed to the government; while Marianna wasn't inclined to informing herself, preferring the old codes of silence that had been part and parcel of the Furotazzi, she could recognize how efficient Ivo had been in unearthing those names. Now, there was one within the Furotazzi's own sphere of influence whose loyalties needed to be determined.

She squeezed Ivo's paw, giving him a smile. "Of course," she assured him. "Thank you for trusting me enough to let me help." She gave him a once over before fishing out a small eyeliner pencil and touching up the corner of Ivo's eyes. "There you go," she assessed. "Nice, defined points." She glanced about before inquiring, "Would you prefer if I hide in the closet, or go wait with the muscle? Ruffano knows me, and I don't want to spook him if I get spotted."

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano Quickwhistle arrived with all the trappings of a todd convinced the night was already his. His fur had been brushed sleek and powdered with fragrance, a burgundy suit hugging his frame with just enough embellishment to hint at flair without tipping into gaudy. In one paw he carried a bouquet that was fresh and pretty enough, though no master florist’s work, and in the other, a bottle of damson wine that promised more sweetness than sophistication.

A hum rode low in his throat as he strolled up the narrow lane, tuneful and steady, an old ballad every actor knew by heart. Not loud enough to announce himself to the street, just enough to make the world feel like his stage. He spat aside the crushed mint leaves he’d been chewing, adjusted his collar, smoothed a paw over his whiskers, and let his tail sway in time with his steps.

The address matched, and he paused before the door, bouquet lifted slightly like a prop, bottle tilted rakishly at his side. For a heartbeat, he let himself drink in the anticipation, and the swoon he expected when the door swung wide.

He rapped smartly on the wood with a flourish, and straightened to full height as the handle stirred. His grin slid into place, golden and effortless.

"Evenin’, my dove. I come bearing flowers, wine… an’ every sweet word your heart desires."

 

[Ivo Suresight]

Ivo had way too little time to respond to Marianna. He wanted to tell her to go and wait with the muscles, in part to not have her see as Ivo in a way humiliated himself and in part because despite her assurances, Ivo wasn't too sure if she wouldn't get mad at him if he were to try at his game of charm too hard. There also was an issue since Marianna knew Ruffano which added yet another layer of both danger if he truly was a suprematist, as well as awkwardness for the whole thing.

Ruffano, coming in early, opening the doors without knocking, made for a surprise. Fortunately there was just enough time for Ivo to stand and push Marianna behind the room screen, himself also getting behind it. When Ruffano spoke, Ivo adjusted his voice and responded. "Ruffano? Is that your voice I hear that pierces the veil of my loneliness? Make yourself at home please, I merely need a second more!" Ivo then looked at Marianna with a small nod walking to the wardrobe that was fortunately positioned so that Marianna could enter it without stepping into Ruffano sightline. He walked over to it and opened it, allowing Marianna to enter. Then, with a sigh, ready for possibly the most awkward evening of his life, Iva had emerged from behind the screen. Wearing fancy, if provocative dark blue dress with an elongated sleeve to hide his broken arm.

Swaying their hips, Iva slowly walked to the bed and sat upon it. Looking at Ruffano with (fake) adoration and most charming smile she could make. "My my, I see you are equally handsome as generous... how sweet of you to bring such gifts! Mind getting the glasses from the cabinet behind you? A long night awaits us and I would rather not let my lips go dry too soon..."

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano’s grin broadened at the sweet greeting from beyond the screen, his voice dropping low with velvet confidence.

“That I am, m’dear. Your gallant tod hero, come to vanquish you from loneliness and despair!”

He sauntered inside like it was already his parlor, sweeping his tail behind him as he dropped onto a cushioned chaise with an audible sigh of contentment. One leg crossed over the other, bouquet and bottle displayed like trophies before him, he sprawled as if he’d performed this scene a hundred times before.

Then the screen shifted. Ruffano’s ears pricked, his eyes widening as the “vixen” emerged in dark blue, sleeve draped to veil her arm. For a moment, his expression flickered between act and genuine appreciation, his stagecraft colliding with surprise.

“By the stars,” he breathed, sitting up a little straighter. “Perfectly accentuated. Every vixen should be so blessed with a body like yours.”

The words left his muzzle smooth as satin, yet behind them sat the curious truth: Ruffano was drawn more to the power, the shape, the weight of presence than dainty grace. Whatever this courtesan was, it suited him.

In a whirl, he bounced back to his paws, seizing the task given. He placed the bouquet aside, drew the glasses from the cabinet with a flourish, and deftly uncorked the bottle. Equal measures of damson wine poured out with practiced care, the crimson liquid catching what little lamplight the room offered.

With a devilish glint in his amber eyes, he clamped the bouquet between his teeth and padded toward the bed, glasses in paw. The look, he thought, was rakish... daring, even sexy.

He held one glass out toward her, his gaze locking with hers over the rim.

“For you, dove. May the night be as intoxicating as the wine.”

 

[Ivo Suresight]

Iva was glad they were not attracted in that way to males. It would make for even more of an uncomfortable scenario because Ruffano was admittedly good. This todd knew well what to say and how, definitely a worthy opponent for Iva. Observing his bold and eager stride, they knew they had to put on their best game... which was hard when their actual lover was mere paws away in the wardrobe.

Taking the glass with a healthy paw, Iva gently clinked it against Ruffano's. "And may it be as fruitful as the vineyard it came from." A sultry promise, followed by a delicate, not too lengthy sip. Iva decided to keep their red eyes on Ruffano, looking at them from the side to show more cautious desire.

And then the game had to begin. Iva gently leaned onto the bed, relaxing and letting the dress show off more of the fur up the leg. "Tell me darling, I've heard much of you and your skills. And being a lover of arts... mind showing me a bit of those? I wish to know how talented of a todd I am seeing. After all, so far you are exceptional, but I want to see you at your best whilst we still can. Later we might be bit too preoccupied for this..." The finish was heavy with promise as Iva slighly bit their lip. The truth was that that discerning Ruffano skills would help in later interrogation while also it was his forte. And Ivo knew too well how much of that male pride was in showing off.

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano sprang to his paws the instant her words touched his ears, tail flaring behind him like a banner. The bouquet tumbled onto the chaise as he raised his glass aloft, damson wine sloshing precariously close to the rim. One crimson droplet wobbled, threatening to spill, but by some miracle clung to the edge. It was clear enough he’d already taken a nip or two before his arrival.

“They say the wine we drink is made of grapes… but this is damson, dark and sweet as midnight fruit.” His words boomed with stage-born flourish as he paced the rug, gesturing broadly, glass flashing in paw.

He spun, grinning, eyes locked on her. “And sweeter still when it touches your lips, dove. What fortune do I owe, to sit across from you? A fortune full and brimming, if only I can carry it through the night. Russet fur and drink alike, to hopefully intermingle intimately tonight.”

He tipped his head with a rakish smile, bouquet now clamped in his teeth again as though the prop were part of the act. His eyes glimmered amber, full of daring.

“So let us drink, and let the vineyards grow jealous… for even their finest vintage could never taste as sweet as this.”

With that, he leaned over her, one paw braced against the edge of the bed, glass raised just high enough that the sweet damson aroma mingled between them. His muzzle lingered close, words brushing the air like velvet.

“Ah, but forgive me... I digress. Call it inspiration, borrowed from the Bard himself. He lent me the words, dove… but all the passion is mine.”

 

[Ivo Suresight]

Iva giggled delicately, both at the words themselves and at theatrics Ruffano did. Putting the good paw to slightly hide the muzzle in implied shyness. He was that kind of performer then. Not one that played the role given but one who lived in a role already and merely adapted it. Iva couldn't say they seen much professional theatre, but the dozens of con artists they seen in their criminal past were very very much alike here. Ruffano was so natural that Iva pondered how many times they've hustled somebeast.

As he leaned in however, Iva delicately put their good paw on his snoot and gave it a slight push. "Passion in your words proofs what I've suspected dear. You are a living fire, waiting to be unleashed... yet known is the story of a fox who flew to close to the sun." Iva actually was glad for getting to read more thanks to Marianna. It sure did expand both their dictionary and gave them plenty more metaphors to use. "Tell me Ruffano more about yourself. I wish to know that the sun I'm getting close to, won't bring my downfall."

Iva of course knew some details from just the rumours gathered from their network. In a way also that was small check of their honesty. Taking another long sip of the wine, Iva gracefully, only slightly caring of how much their dress would now flow and end up showing, made some space for Ruffano on the bed. Should he advance, Iva was going yet to stop him with a gentle press to his snoot like before. Their wounded, veiled paw however, already was readying the dagger. Sure, the arm was unusable, but the paw itself worked fine and was ready to act should the need come.

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano gasped theatrically as her paw pressed his snoot, paw to his chest as though she’d run him through. Then came the grin, sly and unabashed, amber eyes glinting.

“Then let me be the fox who flies too close, dove. If I fall, let it be in flames of passion, not ashes of deceit.”

He eased back, only to rise again in a whirl of motion, glass lifted dangerously close to spilling as he paced. The damson sloshed and gleamed, catching light like bloodied jewels as he began his tale.

“I was born to an exceptional vixen of class in the back of a grand theater. The fruit of a tod who yearned for fame, but hadn’t the pipes of a gallant hero. So, I was raised on stage, whether in performance or as a humble stage paw. The curtains were my cradle, the audience my nursemaid. Every plank and rope and faded velvet seat… my kin.”

He launched into it, the tale spilling on and on... backstage schooling, curtain calls, rehearsals every night, every little anecdote polished and embellished until it blurred into a whirlwind of velvet and greasepaint. The minutes stretched, his voice rising and falling in dramatic waves, a fox drunk on his own narrative.

And then, with a sudden flare of bitterness, his tale snapped back into focus. He lifted his glass, damson sloshing again.

“But one fateful day! When Afton Kilaris... may his name forever taste of ash... smothered the blaze of my fame into soggy cinders. I was on stage, reciting their dreary lines, when I dared to insert just a morsel of truth. A timely commentary on the political news, as smooth and natural as silk woven into the script. My words flowed so beautifully, so aptly, but ohh, Afton did not approve. He never does, when I gild the script with my own tongue.”

He laughed sharply, though it was bitter at the edges.

“And during intermission, he had several of those so-called unsmudgeables... smudged as gutter soot, I swear... drag me off, tear up my thespian card, and blacklist me from the Ministry. Out on my tail, cast from the stage. Imagine it! One moment the darling of the boards, the next a ghost, wandering alley to alley with nothing but my words for warmth.”

Finally he slowed, returning to the bedside. He lowered himself with a languid sprawl, glass raised in half a toast, half a shield.

“So if I am a fire, it’s only because the world has cast me into the cold too many times. A fox keeps warm how he can.”

 

[Ivo Suresight]

The story he gave could be fake, but Iva had to work with assumption that it was right. And while there was compassion in their expression, especially as Ruffano spoke of being thrown away, their mind was considering something else. The motive. It was there to an extend, not too far fetched either. Afton was a wildcat after all and unsmudgables were possibly the most diverse of any ministerial forces. Hatred for the minister and their lackeys could translate into speciesm.

Still, that proved nothing so far an Ruffano needed now some extra care as he had shown his vulnerable side. Otherwise he could consider that there is something going on or lose interest. It stung however to show it to potential supremacist, but all in all, Iva was just acting out this very specific role. Work came first before such little things as morals, especially if said work was in the name of greater good. Getting an insight to that was paramount after all.

"A life worthy of a tale. If tragic one." Iva said gently and moved their paw, putting it on Ruffano's head, gently pushing him to lie it on their thigh while providing assuring pats. "Many beasts I know of happened to lose all they knew." And Ivo wasn't an exception. "You seek what you can to find yourself some peace. But with the fires of passion and hatred being so close, it isn't difficult to mix them..."

Prompting him to met their gaze with a gentle push of their chin up, Iva looked at Ruffano with compassion. It was genuine, even if Ruffano needed not to know the real reason for it. Iva still had one more real question to go with now. "Yet the world is never all gloom and doom, I am sure a todd with charisma of yours and clear talent for theatrics etched into their existance can attract popularity with not much effort right? For sure you did attract my attention..." Iva giggled "I merely ponder just how popular you are."

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano gave a soft hum as her paw pressed him down, a little sigh slipping from him as his head settled on her thigh. He luxuriated in the touch like it was velvet itself, eyes half-lidding as if the night had already crowned him victorious.

“A life worthy of a tale, right? Tragedy makes for the best drama, dove. What’s a fox without a little heartbreak to gild his script?” He chuckled, low and content, his paw idly rolling the stem of the glass where it rested at his side, threatening to tip.

The question of popularity drew his ears up, and a slow grin tugged at his muzzle. He let the silence linger for a moment, just long enough to suggest he was weighing how much to reveal. Though, in truth, the pause was pure showmanship.

“Popular?” He rolled the word on his tongue like a fine note in a ballad. “Once upon a time, on the Ministry’s boards, my name was whispered from box seats to balcony. Curtain calls stretched long, bouquets flew like rain. Then came my exile. No stage, no orchestra pit. Only alleys, taverns, and backrooms with ceilings low and air thick with smoke.”

His eyes glinted with mischief as he went on.

“And yet… a crowd is a crowd, dove. Give me a stool in a tavern and I’ll have drunkards hanging on every syllable. Pass me a crate in the street, and I’ll stir a throng to laughter or tears. They come for the scandal, for the wit, for the sheer audacity of a fox who dares. I cannot help it! Beasts love a tongue that cuts, and my tongue was born sharpened.”

A wicked smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. “And more than a few, I daresay, would gladly trade your lap for theirs right now.”

He leaned into her gaze, letting his voice drop to a husky murmur.

“But none of them matter half so much as the vixen holding me now.”

 

[Ivo Suresight]

Iva didn't get the answer they were after. Not fully at least. Ruffano did admit that he has and can get a following as well that he speaks with scandal and audacity. That could be almost what Iva was after but... he talked about the people in taverns and streets. Was his function to be a recruiting or propaganda machine for Supremacists? If so, that would make him a big catch while also actively cutting off a big head from this hydra.

Still, for now, Iva had to make absolute sure that Ruffano was associated. Also he was getting comfortable in their lap. in this delicate balance, Iva kept their paw on his head on their thigh, making sure Ruffano would not leave it till the blades come out. "Oh dear... indeed your tongue is made of silver and sharpened to perfection." Their voice was curious, but also there was underlaying promise in it now as Iva moved their tail onto Ruffano's back, gently pressing him more to the bed.

"Yet tell me Ruffano. How many vixens or todds heard it before me? I am anything but a paragon of monogamy." Iva sure hoped Marianna knew that was a lie. "But such precious words... to give them freely speaks alike of your bleeding heart or of your ability to dissapear. Tell me dear of loyality. Is there anything you deem true to your heart? Is that you merely play a role of a lover or are you truly a one?" Iva now had a perfect angle to pull out the dagger at Ruffano's scruff. With this answer, hopefully, this excercise in futility would come to an end and the proper questioning could begin.

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano gave a low, pleased hum as her paw stayed firm on his head and the weight of her tail pressed him down. His grin curled sly at the edges, voice soft and teasing.

“Careful, dove,” he murmured, eyes flicking upward, “press much harder and I’ll start thinkin’ you mean to claim me.”

The chuckle that followed was lazy and rich, the kind of laugh that slid between flirtation and pride.

“How many, you ask? Truth be told, I’ve lost count.” He waved a paw airily, eyes half-lidding in a dreamy sort of arrogance. “Faces blur together in the pawlights. Applause, smiles, even yawns, all sound the same after a while. I never kept tally. But you…” He let his paw rest lightly against her knee. “You’re here when the curtain’s long fallen. That’s somethin’ rarer than any crowd.”

He shifted, his tail flicking lazily as his tone deepened.

“Loyalty, now that’s a richer word. When I was cast out, all my grand friends of class and silk vanished faster than a fallen curtain. But the beasts with soot on their paws? The ones who shared the docks and alleys with me?” He smiled, soft but proud. “They stayed. They kept me fed, kept me warm, kept laughin’ when the world told me I should vanish. Beasts who stay true to me… they never go hungry. They find a place where the rest of the empire’s noise can’t touch ‘em.”

His voice brightened, almost evangelical now, paw pressing lightly against his chest.

“That’s what loyalty buys, dove, a fire that doesn’t go out. I give ‘em connections, opportunities, hope... and if that hope turns to anger, well…” He grinned, teeth flashing. “If they wake to find the world’s a cruel stage and want to tear down the scenery, can you blame the actor who made ‘em see?”

The words hung there, hot and dangerous. Then, as if the flare of passion had passed, he softened, tail curling at her thigh.

“I’m no zealot,” he said with a wistful smile. “I’m just a fox who refuses to freeze quiet and admit defeat”

He looked up into her eyes, voice dropping to a tender whisper.

“If loyalty to passion’s a crime, then chain me, dove. I’ll sing while they do it.”

 

[Ivo Suresight]

There was still some things that were unsure to say the least. If Ruffano wished to hide them however, which would be reasonable considering current war on supremacists, what he said made for some very good half-truths. It was a time to finally get to the hard facts. Especially as it was already rather uncomfortable for Ivo to continue his act.

"Chain you? Dear... that may come later in the night if you will play nice." A last joke, followed by a twist of the hidden paw holding a dagger that cut through the sleeve, laying the tip of the blade exactly on Ruffano's ear while he still was pinned with Ivo's paw and tail to the bed. His muzzle lost all of the playful, warm charm it held as Ivo was now ready to strike should Ruffano do a single wrong move.

While he didn't bother with articulation anymore, Ivo didn't want to waste much time after all, he did still use the feminine voice he had practised for this for the sake of keeping his identity. That aspect of the unknown, as well as keeping the other todd in rather precarious position were definitely an advantage and it was one that he was assured at least would bring one answer tonight.

"Now, since t' act's over an' t' curtain fell, time fer ya t' sing." Ivo declared as he moved his leg from under's Ruffano chin. keeping him still pinned on bed, with a dagger's tip rested in his earlobe. "Don't try anythin' brash. Am not alone here. If yer wanna walk again, I jus' will need sum explanations Ruffano."

Admittedly, Ivo was rarely doing such interrogations. He preferred to charm their targets, blackmail them or abuse what others knew about them. Here he was at his weakest, but he had element of surprise that he hoped would carry him. After all, even if all things pointed at Ruffano being an enemy, it would be pointless to leave a mark on him and give him any reason to retaliate.

"I don't wanna waste time, tell me. There're too many things pointin' at yer paw bein' smeared in the certain explosion. Will ya speak, or will ya act yer role out still?" Ivo then asked, very much ready to act no matter what Ruffano would do or answer.

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano froze as the sound of tearing cloth cut through the air, his eyes widening as the dagger’s cold kiss touched the soft flesh of his ear. For a heartbeat, the world stilled... the warm tone of her voice gone, the act shattered.

Then came the explosion.

“You harlot! How dare you lead me on!” he barked, voice cracking between outrage and disbelief. The charm, the velvet tone, all gone in an instant. He jerked upward on instinct, tail thrashing, but the weight of her paw and tail held him fast. The dagger’s point pressed harder; a shiver ran through his ear.

“You insult me with accusations of such conspiracy!?” His voice boomed in the little room, indignant fury bleeding into fear. “Beasts throw judgement over my reaction yet don’t ask themselves how one might react in such an emergency... especially after getting his bell rung!”

He drew in a ragged breath, words tumbling over one another. “Sir Darrence Parker, the infamous poet, saw fit to put his paw to my jaw that very night! I could barely tell which way the crowd spun, much less which way the blast came from!”

The dagger’s edge hadn’t moved, and Ruffano’s ear twitched against the steel. His voice wavered, but the pride behind it refused to die.

“Besides, you can ask anybeast in Minonice! I am banned from the premises! How could one orchestrate such a terrible attack without setting paw inside?”

For a moment, his chest heaved, the anger fading into something smaller, wearier. He met the false vixen’s eyes with a look that was almost pleading, though he’d sooner die than admit it.

“Is this what the world’s come to?” he muttered, quieter now. “A fox can’t cut a jig without being called a monster?”

 

[Ivo Suresight]

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I didn't call ye anythin' yet. Yer reaction tells me though ya have somethin' on yer conscience." So far so good, reaction was as expected and Ivo had to put some strength to keep Ruffano down. Ultimately, it was his dagger that held him still. Good. Now that the initial shock was out of the system. Ivo could notce both the fear, the desperation and certain pleading Ruffano held in his body and eyes. Still, it would be risky to let him go.

"Look Ruffano. I couldn't care less fer Minister's Life. Yer personal vendetta here ain't me worry. But... twas executed by paws of Vulpine Suprematists. Now... such accusation's heavy I know. It's why am givin' ye a chance t' prove me suspicions wrong." Ivo offered to show to Ruffano that there is a chance for him. He may have been a criminal, but Ivo was not heartless. He had standards, especially nowadays.

"Simply put, many things point t' ya bein' associated with 'em. Weather ya approve of 'em or not, that's another story, but if yer reason's to jus' kill Kilaris, ye suddenly had a similar goal. An alliance of convienence could've been forged. Especially with someone as good of a charmer an' natural speaker as ye." The words were accentated with a tiny chuckle and the little twirl of the dagger tip within the ear. Not enough to harm the other todd, but enough to remind him of his position.

"That is why yer here. To tell me whatcha know or do not know. I ain't gonna hear no denial from ye. Jus' wanna hear first... how did ya know that 'twas Kilaris who died? Plenty other beasts were there, ya said you were fightin' an' ye said yer banned from comin inside the Opera... somethin' ain't addin' up." It was the first of three leads Ivo had, it was possibly the strongest one, but also one that was hardest to disprove now that Ruffano so politely offered his version of the events.

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

The dagger’s twist made his ear twitch, the cold bite snapping whatever remnants of charm he’d clung to. For a split second, he managed a crooked grin. A last reflex from the scoundrel he’d been moments before, but it melted to scorn in a heartbeat.

"Oh, y’think this is a game, do ya? I should’ve known... only a beast rotten enough t’hide behind rouge an’ silk would use that line."

He gave a short, mirthless laugh that carried more teeth than humor, shoulders tensing under her weight as he tried to rise again. The dagger pricked his ear sharper, halting him cold.

"You sit there playing interrogator with your little toy, and you’ve the gall t’think me guilty? Of that?" His snarl came low, voice roughened by equal parts fear and fury. "Supremacist filth? If you think I’d waste my life marchin’ in their shadow, you don’t know me at all."

His jaw set, ears flattening hard as he pushed on, words spilling out in a scathing rush.

"I'm proud o’ what I am. A fox should be. We’re born sharp, built for the stage. But those beasts? They’re brutes, not brothers. I mock ‘em. I don’t join ‘em."

He spat the words like they burned his tongue, breath quick and ragged. The dagger’s gleam in his periphery didn’t silence him. It only drove him to talk faster.

"You want t’know how I knew? Because the fool threw himself a bloody birthday gala, that’s how! Whole town knew Afton was celebrating his own pomp, strutting round like a peacock in pearls. When the roof blew, who else d’ya think was sitting in the grand box? Takes no genius to guess the birthday boy went up with his candles!"

His laugh this time was wild and sharp, ringing in the small room for a spell.

He turned his head just enough to glare up the length of the dagger, eyes hard with fury, fur bristling against her grip.

"You wanted me t’sing? Fine. There’s your song. Now tell your masters they’ve got the wrong fox before they make a bigger fool of themselves than Afton ever did."

 

[Marianna Furotazzi]

How Marianna managed to hold in her laughter through the seduction as she watched through the slats of the closet door, she couldn't begin to say, in part because she was struggling to breathe through her paws clasped over her snout. As the game fell away and the interrogation began, she sobered up, listening to the explanation carefully. It added up; her past interactions with Ruffano didn't indicate any hostility toward non-vulpines or foreigners, which seemed to be the defining hostilities of the vulpinist movement. Animus toward the Ministry of Niceties, and presumably its sitting minister, was a known quality of Ruffano, however, and while tasteless, his jubilation at Kilaris meeting a violent end was understandable in that light.

"That's enough, Iva," Marianna commented as she exited the closet, smoothing out her dress to suppress the lingering sensation of the weight of coats and dresses upon her skin. She couldn't quite keep a small snerk from escaping her nose at the sight of the fox pinned under her lover, while part of her filed away the image for later, far more personal, use. "My apologies for participating in this interrogation," she stated. "Those same vulpinists made an attempt upon both our lives, and we had to be sure of your loyalties if we were to trust you with our safety." She glanced to her lover, remarking, "I think his explanation rings true. What do you think?" She left the decision in her partner's paws; after all, as she'd come to accept, they were equals in this endeavor.

 

[Ivo Suresight]

Ivo listened carefully to Ruffano again as he was crashing out. He was correct that the explosion target was most sensibly the Minister, but considering the density of ministers, important officials and all? It was a perfect lie possibly. An easy one, yet not something that most would question. And while he stated he hated the supremacist... It seemed as if everything would come down to the follow-up questions then. Ivo was still keeping an professional calm and it would play to their advantage.

But then Marianna decided to make her entry and commented her satisfaction with what was revealed thus far. Admittedly, it called for one thing as Ivo immediately pulled the dagger out of Ruffano's ear. There was no point for keeping it there anymore. After all, he was now aware that there were other beasts present around and that should make him talk... but was it needed? Marianna believed so. Ivo? Not so much. Then again, Marianna knew Ruffano before that.

Letting go of the todd, Ivo switched the dagger into his healthy paw, toying with it and swirling it around between pawfingers. "His explanation has flaws, so allow me to take one more question dear." Ivo stopped the dagger, holding it in a perfect position to throw it at will. "I know ya ain't clean an' there's sum' mud pointin' at ya bein' behind sum' petty crimes. Pullin' sum' tongues, I know ya 've been eager t' talk 'bout both injustice that befelled ya, yer hatred t' Kilaris an' play 'em up among both lovers and common folk alike."

"Ya hate bein' accused, understandably so, but ye went overly defensive. Mere implication of interrogation caused ye to act with fear, hatred and zelotry t' show yer innocence. Then I said am seein' ye associating with 'em due to that specific reason. Ya strike me as intelligent enough to not see such thing as being in their ranks, nor as following them or their beliefs. Once more, you have reacted with takin' t' worst assumption." A small pause, one Ivo spent looking at Ruffano sternly.

"You speak more than asked. You show fear and mask it with hatred. I saw your plea, you wished to not answer Ruffano, to let me go of you. All that tells me you that there is something. Even if you didn't work directly with Supermacists. What is it then?" Ivo finished and looked for reaction. He knew it was... less of a solid proof, but he saw a fair share of interrogations. A clean beast was one that justified themselves or simply denied their allegience. Fear was understandable, even under pressure, but Ruffano tried too hard to mask it.

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano’s ears barely twitched as the dagger danced in Iva’s paw. The fox’s accusations came in waves. Muddy, heavy, and self-righteous...and Ruffano let them crash over him without a word. His expression hardened, then dulled, until only that tired, glassy defiance remained in his eyes. He heard every word, but he wasn’t about to dignify them with an answer.

Instead, his eyes danced between the two Vixens, darting back and fourth from the broader shouldered one he was now giving the silent treatment to, and the newly appeared one.

"Ahh, I see how it is," he hissed, pushing himself upright and shaking out his fur with theatrical disgust. "The mighty needs assistance to handle one unarmed actor. Should I take that as flattery, or is it just incompetence?"

He tugged his rumpled vest back into place, sniffed sharply, and squared his shoulders as though he were back on stage. Even the faint tremor in his ear couldn’t rob him of that misplaced bravado.

That is when he got a better look at the second vixen. His eyes narrowed, the gears turning behind them.

"Oh, I get it now," he sneered, tail lashing once behind him. "Classic routine...One beast snarls, the other smooths it over. Curtain call for the good fogey, bad fogey duet, eh?"

His paw snapped as the realization suddenly clicked, eyes widening with a spark of recognition as he turned fully to address Marianna.

"You! I know you!"

He jabbed an accusing claw toward Marianna, expression brightening in incredulous outrage.

"The vixen from the alley! Behind the Lilting Lily! Tell me, did you drag me into that pirate brawl just to keep me on a leash, or are you still meddlin’ in matters that don’t concern you?"

His words tumbled in a rush, half fury, half theatre. He straightened again, arms flung wide, voice echoing with bitter laughter.

"Oh, you two are made for each other. One hides behind rouge, the other behind a Family name. Bully Harbor’s most romantic interrogation!"

He gave a sharp bark of laughter, then fixed them both with a cold grin.

"You could’ve just asked, you know. I’ve been accused of many things, but cowardice isn’t one of them."

He started to pace now, tail flicking behind him, mouth still moving when it should’ve stopped.

"Though I suppose if I were one of those zealots, I’d be smarter than to trust a pair of foxes who can’t tell an actor from an assassin! Or was this all a set up to throw another innocent beast overboard?"