FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The room didn't seem to impress his guests. The six men were seated in fine leather chairs, in this fine room with dark wood paneling, a thick carpet. The scent of sex lingered in the air, but that couldn't be helped; sex permeated everywhere in Arnold's club, and this room had been one of the orgy rooms he kept for the members who preferred their sex in private. It was the largest room in the club, so he had it redone for these meetings.

Albert had offered the use of his club, suggesting that men of their calibers had to enjoy art and artists, but Arnold had passed. He had enough trouble being taken seriously by these men; he wasn't taking them in a place that smelled of pot. Although having them get a contact high might make them less surly.

Only Maximilian didn't frown when he looked in his direction. The cougar was the one who had convinced these men to come. The one person outside of Brislow who didn't think Arnold was some thug who should be thrown in a hole and forgotten there. The cougar had clout within the Society and this was all he'd managed to bring to this meeting about their survival.

"Gentlemen," Arnold said to get their attention. "Thanks for coming. We have a lot to talk about."

The rabbit holding a tall glass of vodka said something in a language Arnold didn't understand, but the guy was from the east side of Canada, so it had to be French. He did understand the tone, derision, and he fought to keep his temper under control.

Maximilian said this wouldn't be easy. These men were elders of Society families, they saw age as a badge of honor. Not only was Arnold an Orr, this family being barely a step above the Rasia when it came to being hated, he wasn't even twenty-five. As far as these men were concerned, they should be dealing with his fathers, or better yet, his grandfather; as if any of them could have handled those men.

"Speak English, Carbonneau," the lion said, "you agreed to come. Show the elder Orr some respect." The somber man cracked a smile. "Insult him in his own language and see what happens."

Maximilian looked at Arnold concerned, but the tiger ignored him. He'd hoped the Odinga elder would have been more amicable, after all, Arnold had interacted with his two sons which dealing with his old men, and as far as he knew both had reasonably good opinion of him, at least Brislow hadn't exploded with complaints about how he'd treated his friends.

The two lions had also been enthusiastic about talking with his brothers. One wanting to know everything about their lineage, the other about how their abilities worked. Arnold had told everyone to keep quiet about that, but he expected someone had let something slipped. Maybe they hadn't gotten what they were after and painted Arnold in a bad light as their way of getting back at him.

"I said," the rabbit said in an air of being put out, "that in my family, we do put children in charge of things like this."

"How many of your kids are raised by a pair of sociopathic, power hunger, men?" Arnold asked before he could stop himself. The shocked expression told him he should just shut up now. "We've had to grow up fast to be able to take care of those two."

Maximilian's lips were a tight line. Arnold knew he was fucking up. What else was new? But he was in charge of his family, and of everyone here, of everyone in the Society, other then Brislow, his city was the only one who was relatively peaceful.

"Look, we're not here to weigh each other's balls," Arnold said. "We're here because for more than six months now, we've been under near-constant attack by the Gray Church. The rest of the world might think it's just the church turning anti gay again, but we know better because we've been the ones suffering the losses." There, Maximilian had advised him to try to remind them of unity, and there was nothing more unifying then being fucked over by the same group.

"We?" a thin fox, his red fur pale with age, "do you hope we have not found out the Gray Church had been taken over by your uncle?" His English had that lithe a Chinese accent put on it that Arnold found he liked. It had to be Something from Aiden's gift, he still found himself bobbing his head to contemporary music once in a while.

"No, I wasn't hoping anything like that." Of course I was, asshole. "Considering that he attempted to kill the pope in person, I figured everyone knew about him." One thing being raised by two sociopath had done for him was give him a talent with spin. "But you need to understand that the fact he is my uncle, doesn't mean I consider him family. He turned his back not only on me and my brothers, but on our god." Albert might be the one who manipulated the media, but being able to retell what had happened in such a way he wasn't as much to blame went a long way to keeping his ass free from his old men's cock.

Arnold didn't miss the glanced to Maximilian and the cougar's nod of confirmation. Of course those assholes would check with him. Arnold's word couldn't be enough.

"I don't know what Damian's game is," Arnold said. "No one does as far as I know, other than he wants to fuck us over."

"You continue to say 'we'," the saint-bernard said, his accent sounding more German than whatever they spoke in Switzerland, "But I do not see you burying dead family members."

"You think that's because we've been excluded from this little war Damian is waging?"

"It would make send for your uncle--"

"He isn't my uncle!" Arnold was on his feet, ready to throw his glass at the saint-bernard, but the smirk on that canine face stopped him. Fuck, he was being baited. The cougar didn't facepalm, but Arnold thought that was through sheer willpower.

Arnold sat back down and fought the urge to lick the beer that had spilled on his fur. "You hadn't heard about death in my family because there is so few of us, compared to your families, that it's easier to make sure they are protected. But we have been attacked. The advantage my family has is that my great grandfather destroyed any avenue the church had to infiltrate San Francisco, and we've maintained a policy of kicking straight out any time they try to get back in. So they have little infrastructure to launch from in the city. Maybe if you'd done something like that, instead of cowering under whatever rock was available, you'd have an easier time fighting them off now."

Maximilian wasn't happy with what Arnold was saying, but he didn't care. He wasn't a cougar, he was a tiger, he was an Orr, he didn't cower and beg, especially not in front of these men, and not when their discomfort told Arnold he was right. There were more of them, even in the smallest family, than there had ever been Orrs, but they not one of them had even tried to claim their city for themselves. They'd been happy enough allowing the church to bless what they were doing.

"You say we should go to war?" the rabbit asked.

"Unless you've been too deep in some guy's ass, you're already at war," Arnold replied. "What you need to do is accept that and start responding as such."

"That is easy for a... man such as you to say." Arnold didn't miss the hesitation in the hyena's statement. "The Orrs are aggressive by nature, we all know this. We are not all as such. Many of us have made a life of peace. Of encouraging others to do the same."

"How many relatives have you buried in the last six months?" Arnold asked.

"Arnold," Maximilian warned, but the tiger raised a hand to silence him.

He had no intention of being nice with these men, and it had nothing to do with how they thought of him. He could live with derision and ridicule, because he knew he would prove them wrong, but he wasn't going to let them die off because they'd gotten comfortable in their easy lives.

"Well?" Arnold pushed the hyena.

"Twenty-eight," he finally said.

"Considering Africa's violent history, I'd think you, more than them, would know better than to just sit back and let this happen. You guys are so busy seeing to your own satisfaction you're letting each other die."

The fox glared at him. "I do not see you come to anyone's help."

Arnold snorted. "Would you even accept it? What did Maximilian have to promise you just to come talk with me? I'm here, telling you we need to work together, we need to pool our resources, coordinate, if we want to have a chance of surviving this. And you're too busy laughing at this kid playing at being an adult to realize that you're dying. Damian is slowly, but surely winnowing you down. Eventually there isn't going to be a Society left if you guys don't stop fucking and start fighting."

"You expect us, to obey you," the saint-bernard said.

"Do you guys have anyone with more experience fighting anyone?" Arnold looked at the lion. Kenya had been at war recently. As far as he knew the only country with a Society family to have been in recent history, but from talking to the man's son he knew the Odinga hadn't taken part in it. The elder had sent his sons away to protect them, and he'd hidden behind the walls of his family home until the war passed.

The lion didn't look away. "I will not take your orders," he said, then raised a hand to stop Arnold's from screaming at his stupidity. "But I recognize you are making a good point. This is a war, that we like it or not. As such, we need to think of what can happen, instead of what we want to happen. You say you can keep the Gray Church out of your city?"

Arnold nodded, trying to figure out what the old lion was getting at.

"Then I propose that each family sends one son to San Francisco, as a protection against our lines being erased."

"I already have someone in Denver," the rabbit replied, his accent suddenly rather imperceptible. "That cheetah of yours is keeping him safe, right Max?"

"Denton isn't hiding them away, if that's what you mean Marcel." Maximilian thought it over. "I think Hanru is right, sending one or two relatives to San Francisco is a good idea. But Arnold, I think you need to understand that in agreeing to this, you are not getting more men to use in this war. This isn't like the help I sent you. These young me will be here under your protection. How you treat them will reflect on your family as a whole."

Arnold ground his teeth to stop his protest. He wished he could read minds like the cougar did, that way he'd know for sure if what he thought he was saying was what he meant. But by the way the others were nodded, it was clear this was the best Arnold would get. Instead of getting the start of an army, he was getting more men he'd have to look after. And Maximilian was implying that if he did a good job of it, maybe these condescending assholes might think he was mature enough to be worth talking too again.

"Men for me to protect?" Arnold asked. "That's what you want out of this? Not a coordination of our forces?"

The fox made a dismissive gesture. "We can see to coordination things ourselves, but yes, Hanru has a good idea. Having relatives in two well-defended cities will ensure my line will go on regardless of what happens elsewhere."

Had the fox just complimented him?

"I can talk with Niclas Brukammer," the saint-bernard said, "As well as anyone else in Europe. I can make a case for San Francisco being a safe place."

The others agreed and without even consulting Arnold they were setting up a time table for who would arrive first. He grated, but he had to admit defeat.

He stood, and the others fell silent. "Sir, since this seems to be as far as this meeting is going to go, I want to extend an invitation to enjoy my club. If any of you want to explore the city before you leave, I can provide guides for you to make use of. When you're ready to go to the airport, I'll have cars ready to take you there."

He remained in place as the others filed out of the room, talking excitedly as if this was some vacation they were on. Someone mentioned Hollywood.

That's in LA, asshole.

When it was only him and Maximilian, and the cougar didn't move toward the door, Arnold closed it.

"This isn't what we talked about," Arnold snarled. "We were supposed to work on fighting back."

The cougar raised his hands to placate him and Arnold snorted. "Arnold, I know you don't see this as a victory. You're young and you--"

"Don't tell me I'm too much of a kid to run this."

"I was going to say you expect things to move quickly. You make plans and you see them becoming reality the next day, but that isn't how the Society works." The cougar approached Arnold. "We work in small steps. You got them to come here."

"You did that. Not one of them agreed until you talk with them."

"Okay, but you behaved like an elder. A slightly annoying one, but you aren't the first to act like that. You listen, you make your argument, and you agreed to the decision of the majority. I know it isn't pleasant, but that's what it means to be an elder within the Society" Maximilian placed a hand on Arnold's shoulder.

"You get that by the time these fuckers decide I'm right, you might not have a Society left, right?"

The cougar squeezed Arnold's shoulder. "I have faith He will see to our survival and sending you men is how we help Him accomplish that."

"Where the fuck am I going to house all of them? I don't even know if we own enough properties. I've never gone through the property records."

"You have time to arrange that." The cougar smiled. "Now, I don't know how familiar you are with Society traditions, but it's traditional to celebrate victorious meetings, and in spite of how you see it, this was a victory."

Arnold narrowed his eyes. "Meaning?"

The cougar's smile broadened. "I understand that you aren't keen on bottoming, but I happen to enjoy being fucked quite a lot." Maximilian groped Arnold. "What do you say you fuck this old cougar and show me this Orr reputation as sex fiends is well deserved?"

Arnold didn't let the surprise slow him down. He had the cougar out of his clothes and in a chair, legs in the air under fifteen seconds and then he was fucking him like the fiend he was.