FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

*CONTENT WARNING: * This story contains depictions of violence, murder and horror themes throughout. Viewer Discretion is advised.

Even flanked by Isolde, Theodore hated walking into Madame Sybil's room. A lump settled on the back of his tongue and he couldn't even begin to ignore it; every step made it weigh even more heavily. He hadn't been on the best of terms with the Panther as of late, and he couldn't tell if the irritation was coming from her, him, or their powers combined.

Madame Sybil stood with her back against the door, paw resting on the door knob as she awaited Theodore to enter. He stepped by her, keeping his head low. Despite that the top of her ears barely crested Theodore's shoulder, he knew the force of her attitudes too well A raised paw stopped Isolde in her tracks--only for a smile to split her features. With a welcoming gesture, she allowed the Hyena to follow Theodore into the room. Isolde said something to her, but he didn't try and listen to it; Whitaker's pacing about the room was much more interesting.

Beyond the dark oak and luxurious reds that made up the decorum of the room, he was a lonely splash of color--his chestnut fur and green vest standing out even more obviously than previous. He walked a tight line next to the floor length curtain that separated the largest room in the Silver Ladle into the Madame's personal and business spaces. He spared a glance toward Theodore as he entered, watching as the Wolf took a seat next to where he paced.

Theodore laced his fingers in front of him as Sybil and Isolde took up a position on the loveseat just across from him. He couldn't bring himself to look up at the Panther. "There's a few things to discuss here today," her velvet voice overrode any distractions Theodore busied himself with. "We've the matter of Mr. Whitaker--"

"Professor Whitaker," he corrected.

"--, Silas, as well as the approaching Gala and your role inside of it." she ignored Whitaker's outburst.

Theodore nodded. He pressed the heels of his palms against his forehead and reclined in the seat with a mighty sigh. It was going to be one of those conversations. Lovely.

His palms slapped his thighs and he nodded dutifully. "I'm all ears then," he sat back up just as soon as he realized how obvious his disdain was. Sybil made no comment, nor did her expression change. "With Professor Whitaker first?"

"Indeed," her unblinking gaze locked with Theodore's. "I am remanding him to your care."

"Pardon?" his shoulders fell. Whitaker made a yelp from beside him, and threw an arm towards Theodore.

"You're an Arbiter! Do you not have Crows for this?" cried the Professor as he stormed toward Sybil. He was stopped with a glance, but he didn't shrivel back as so many other beasts had.

"The Crows are busy, rummaging through the alleyways for a set of beasts who have gone to ground," her disinterested monotone made Theodore nervous. "Until they are finished, Theodore will be your guardian."

"But he is right," Theodore cut in. "Why? We've got security?"

"Theodore, you are to muzzle the next of you two that interrupts me," the Panther's coo settled over the room. "You may nod if you understand me. Good. Now, he is in your care until such a time that Silas and this, 'Darrow' figure are apprehended," her legs crossed. "I will notify you immediately. Am I understood?"

He nodded, glancing toward Whitaker. The beast stood there, his mouth agape in horror as he looked between Sybil and his new warden. "And how long is that going to take?"

"No longer than a week," Sybil finally turned her head toward the Professor. "The Crows have destroyed Silas and Darrow's ships, each--" Theodore flinched at the thought. "and once they are finished you will arrive with them to be guarded more closely. Until that time," she nodded toward Theodore. "He will accompany you. Both on, and off of the Abbey grounds. Am I understood?"

Whitaker's back straightened, and he turned away from Sybil. "Yes." he groused, sitting down with next to Theodore with all the pouting of a nipper.

"Leaving the next questions for you more specifically, Theodore. Shall we speak alone, or would you prefer the company?" she quizzed. Her paw snuck to rest on Isolde's thigh, but Theodore didn't draw attention to it.

"I'd rather us be alone for that. I have a feeling this is going to be more sensitive than our dearest professor would enjoy hearing about," he gave Sybil a lopsided shrug. "But that's just a guess."

"Where would you have me wait, then?" Whitaker lifted the bridge of his glasses to pinch the bridge of his muzzle.

"Theodore's room--" Isolde tried to offer. She paused at the pained expression the Wolf gave her. "Or... perhaps the Veranda?"

"The Veranda sounds lovely. Where is it?" Whitaker interjected before anyone could stop him. He was halfway out the door before Isolde could even begin to explain.

"I suppose I shall guide you from behind, then," sneered the Hyena. She turned to Sybil, who gave her a pleading expression. A knowing nod later and Isolde was out the door after the professor, having shut the door behind her.

"She puts up with far more than her station," Madame Sybil's shoulders fell as the doors closed. "Sometimes I wonder why she stays."

Theodore let the comment hang in the air for a moment, biding his time before smiling at Sybil. "Do I get a bonus on my next paycheck if I say that it's you she stays for?" Sybil's demeanor cracked for an instant--the twitch of a smile on the corner of her cheek that let Theodore know he'd gotten through the apparent fatigue. "Well?" he pressed.

"Theodore Locke, you are something unique," her teeth bared ever so slightly as she spoke. Her head turned toward him, and he watched the fidgets as she tried to remain stonefaced. "But no. There's no bonus for stating the truth."

"Damn," he feigned disappointment. "Well I suppose it was worth a shot."

"There are more pressing details about your paychecks, however," Sybil reclined into the arm of the loveseat, using it at the rear support to keep her upright. "Isolde has privately expressed concerns to me about your duties this upcoming Gala. She said she intended to speak with you; has that happened yet?"

"Only just," he sighed. "And I'll tell you the same thing I told her. I am ready to go back to work; I'm done with charity."

"Theodore, you marked yourself for full duties--" Sybil began.

"I've been over this with Isolde already. Yes. I am ready." He stressed, jabbing at her with a finger.

"Then you will comply with the command of whatever lass, or gent has you for the Gala. This will include the private bath, and all else," she warned. Theodore snorted. "Alright. You've been off for a month, and I want you ready for everything come the Solstice."

"I tend to prefer left-banding anyways, so it's not like--" he tried to cut in.

"Everything, Theodore. As you've brought your paycheck up I should like to discuss it," her legs crossed, and she sat back up. "You've been out of work for the last three, nearly four weeks. Your convalescence has been deserved and I will not argue that--however the resources we have are going to be more further devoted to hunting your aggressors. You're back at work now, and you will not be paid a stipend unearned."

"I would rather it be that way."

"Then we agree. Now the matter of Silas," she punctuated. Theodore winced at the name, and his ears lowered along with his chin. "I know he meant something great to you."

"He didn't kill me. There's not anything else to be said," his voice was tight. "He didn't make the order to do so. And if it means a damn thing I felt him pull me out before I heard Patricia scream for help."

"I doesn't mean anything to me; but I am not the one who will carry out his sentencing," she kept her voice low, and her tone sincere. "When he is brought in--provided he doesn't warrant himself being killed by the Crows--I would like you to assist with his sentencing if you have the fortitude to do so."

She left him for a few seconds to consider, opening her mouth just in time for him to nod. "I can do that."

"I wouldn't expect anything else of you," she offered him a smile. "If you are ready and have said your piece, I won't bother you further? You seem like you've had more than enough for the day as it sits."

"I've not eaten since yesterday, that could have something to do with it?" He offered with a dry chuckle. Sybil's smile widened, and she rose to her feet.

"Take Whitaker to lunch then; you're a full Host again, and these will be paid days, so I expect you in uniform," she nodded toward the door. Theodore rose to his feet, brushing his trousers free of wrinkles before giving her a lopsided grin.

"How uncomfortable am I allowed to make him?"

Sybil deadpanned.