>The band is starting to get into the swing of things, the tone of a brass horn humming low as it joins the drums.
>When you look over, a lanky mongoose is tapping his foot in tune with the notes of his saxophone. Hopefully he doesn’t start humping the air, but for now it sounds like he knows what he’s doing
>Besides him is two men with guitars resting on their chests. They’re identical from a distance, and the only difference you can make out is the fact that one of them is playing bass and the other is playing electric.
>You idly wonder what it’s like to be the ‘bass’ twin of a set. It’s not like can be hand me downs when your sibling is the exact same age as you, is there?
>”Okay, so…” Alan speaking up brings your attention back to the table. The way he opened up has everyone’s attention in fact. “This has been bugging me after everyone introduced themselves, but for the four of us, our jobs for the Family are basically our real jobs too.” He looks at you and Valorie when he talks, “But what do you guys do to keep a roof over your head, then?”
>You’re playing the boy toy to keep your apartment, but you don’t feel like bringing up Ariannis anymore if you can help it. Hopefully the hesitation isn’t on your face as you suck your teeth and consider your answer.
>Valorie must get this question often, because she doesn’t even look up from her phone when she answers. “I’m a librarian. I have been for several years now. Unfortunately public servants are not paid as well as we should be. My sponsor helps me live the life I want in exchange for my company.”
>Why does it feel like Valorie has this shit all figured out when you’re one harsh shock away from a panic attack? You wish you were are put together as she was.
>Unfortunately you can’t even time a drink well, because you’re mid-sip when everyone’s eyes land on you waiting for your answer.
>After succeeding in not choking on your drink you manage to place the glass back down. “I, uh, work at a grocery store. Evergreen Market.”
>Not exactly the most glorious of positions, but it paid the rent and kept you fed until recently.
>You brace for the follow up questions, but when they do come the first one isn’t from where you expect.
>”Aunt Ariannis does not strike me as the type to do her own shopping.” Valorie says, side-eyeing you. “Nor does she seem like someone who has her people keeping an eye out for potential mates. Forgive me for prying, but something isn’t adding up here.”
>Watching everyone realize what Valorie is getting at is something of a treat, you have to admit. Jackon’s crest shoots up when he pieces it together. “Yeah, actually. I hate to say it like this, but I can’t figure out how you ended up in the Family.”
>You sit there and nod your head. They’re right after all. Even Terrin and his naivety fit a criminal organization better than somebody who’s highest expertise was bagging groceries and sweeping aisles.
>”Well, Ariannis is my landlady.” You say, “One day she showed up on my door wanting to talk about something. If quoting movies is allowed, then all I’ll say is that it was an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
>You show you hand as much as you’re willing. Not like there is anything to be gained by bringing up how fucking broke you are. Or the fact that you had no idea of deep into the criminal underworld you were getting into when you popped that first fear boner.
>Alan rubs his chin, “Man, I don’t know if I could live with an Uncle or an Aunt as my landlord.”
>You just shrug. Two weeks ago Ariannis was just an intimidating feline you signed your rent checks to. You had assumed she just had some sort of tragic backstory to explain that eyepatch, but otherwise it wasn’t in your interest to dig deeper than that.
>”It was all normal until she wanted to talk. I thought I was going to be evicted. Instead, I’m here.” You say, closing out the topic and hopefully putting an end to any further questions.
>Except it’s not. Samuel pulls himself closer to the table, sizing you up before speaking, “Wait, she’s your land lady? And that’s all you thought of her? Anon, homie, do you…not know what Aunt Ariannis does? She’s not the third chair for her real estate skills.”
>You hold up your hands, pushing them at Samuel to stop him right there. “I don’t, and I’m enjoying my ignorant bliss. She didn’t tell me, and I’m not going to go behind her back about it either.”
>That raises some eyebrows from everybody but Terrin, who once again is in the same boat as you. Samuel opens his mouth, but Valorie tuts once and silences the otter.
>Instead he just mutters something in Spanish and shakes his head.
>”Do not mind him,” Valorie says, “He has the best intentions in telling you, but it’s in no one’s interest to overstep an Aunt’s decision. I will say this Anon; when people hear you are one of Aunt Ariannis’s, you may find more doors closing than opening. I don’t take you for the type looking to climb the ladder though, so that may suit you just fine.”
>So wait, you were an outcast from the word go? Looks like you’ve got a career of fun ahead of you.
>”I’ll do my best to behave.” You say with a weak smile, wishing this conversation would end already.
>”It’s not you we’ll have to worry about.” Alan says.
>That puts a lid on the topic. Either that, or the waiters emerging from the kitchen doors with platters on both hands.
>By now you can identify Adrian in the crowd, and you watch her glide her way over to your table. She makes it look effortless, and you wonder how much training the wait staff go through.
>How many test runs do they do in between these monthly dinner parties?
>”I apologize if the wait has trouble you.” Adrian says as she begins places plates one after another. The table excuses her in various ways, everyone insisting that it wasn’t an issue.
>Terrin and Jackson’s dish looks appetizing in the weird, ‘I’ll try a bite’ way a glistening pound cake does. Hell, it practically looks like a cake being a soft gold in color, but from the menu description you know that it’s mostly berries and seeds in there.
>Less of a loaf and more like a pastry, you think.
>Valorie’s order makes you a bit upset you weren’t more adventurous. You try not to salivate at the sight of two drumsticks sticking out of a bowl, with several healthy sized chunks of cubed rabbit floating alongside red potatoes and mushrooms in some sort of clear broth.
>It’s not a lot of food, but you don’t doubt for a second that it’s delicious.
>Various clattering of multiple plates and a clap and rubbing of hands from an eager otter pull you away from still bubbling bowl next to you.
>Those are oysters alright. The half-shelled objects of the otter’s addiction are tightly packed together, resting in a low bowls filled with ice and placed in a half circle facing the otter.
>A quick count shows that the madman has at least thirty freshly shucked oysters.  
>It’s hard to get an accurate number though, because he’s the first at the table to start eating and his hands are a blur. You’re pretty sure he puts away two before Adrian manages to get Alan’s cheeseburger on the table.
>You leave Samuel to his shellfish, and prepare to learn what this cheese crisp is all about.
>Alan’s burger is served open face with a heap of golden fries. The usual variety of toppings sit on a second small plate, waiting for his selection.
>The vegetables are kept neatly folded on the side, along with several small cups filled with a colored selection of sauces all lined up so neatly you’re convinced the plate magnetized.
>And there is it, the thing you’ve been curious about. Half leaning on the meat and bottom bun is a thin, multi-colored colored disc. There are holes in it, like someone scattered some shredded cheese, melted it, and let it cool back down in a neat patty sized disc.
>Alan sets to preparing his burger, using a provided spoon to scoop mayonnaise from one of the cups.
>Before you can question such terrible taste, you’re distracted by the soft clink of a plate being set in front of you.
>It’s a a pair of boneless chicken breast cutlets on a small pile of rice.
>Or it would be just that if you had to make this yourself.
>You have seen grilled chicken before, but you’ve never seen it so…golden? Is it just the color of the the meat or-
>Oh, it’s actually the sauce. Or is it a glaze in this case? A drizzle? Either way, it’s runny enough that it’s rolling down the groove of the grill marks, but thick enough that it’s taking its time as it traces and drags against the speckles of pepper and diced chives.
>You wonder why you’re so hesitant as you pick up a fork to prod at the fluffy pile of rice.
>Probably because it’s so colorful. You were expecting plain white rice with some chopped up carrots or something.
>Instead the rice has an orange tinge to it, and there are peas along with bits of bright orange bell peppers. As you dig your fork in to further investigate, you make another discovery.
>There are tiny cubes of pineapple scattered here and there like small treasures underneath the chicken.
>No more fucking about. Everyone else has started to eat, so you finish unfurling your utensils from the thick dinner napkin that you took your fork from.
>Your knife goes in and out clean as you take a nice sized piece from one of the chicken cutlets. After taking a moment to admire the contrast of colors, from the bright green chives to the black of the grill marks to the golden orange of the skin to the almost pristine cleanness of the meat within, you finally put the piece into your mouth.
>And it’s tender. Tender to the point where you almost don’t need to chew, since once your teeth press against the grain of the meat it begins to glide apart.
>Then there is the flavor. Tangy, with that expected acidic tingle of fresh pineapple that assures you that the sauce isn’t some flavored syrup from a bottle.
>Every other chew discovers a pocket of pepper that announces itself with a kick of spice to balance the sweetness of the pineapple.
>The crunch of the chives is an excellent distraction from the combination of slick sauce and tender chicken with their mild but pronounced flavor.
>You’re in the middle of cutting off a second piece when you catch Valorie grinning at you in the corner of your vision.
>When you turn to her, she covers her mouth to hide a laugh, “It’s that good?”
>You cough, slightly embarrassed. “Best thing I’ve eaten in awhile.”
>Valorie gives a warm smile, “Good food is one of life’s pleasures. No shame in that.” She shakes her head as she returns to her own meal.
>By the time you’re halfway done with a cutlet you realize you still haven’t tried the rice yet beyond the grains that are stuck to the chicken you’ve been stuffing in your mouth.
>Doing your best to get rice on your fork, helped out by the residue of pineapple pepper sauce, you scoop a handful up and try it out.
>It takes exactly one chew to realize that your investigative prodding from earlier missed an ingredient when something goes crunch.
>You search through the rice on your plate for the culprit as you continue eating, because it sure as hell doesn’t taste bad.
>The rice is fluffy, and the texture of peas popping alongside the gush of tropical juice that show up every time you manage to catch one of those pineapple cubes in between your teeth.
>Still, you’re trying to place the crunch, and you’re on your second mouthful of rice when you finally figure it out.
>Peanuts, painstakingly cut into quarters, have been hidden in the rice. There isn’t many of them, so they easily blend in with the orange grains of rice.
>More effort has been put into this rice than you’ve put into an entire week’s meal prepping.
>That fact stops being amusing and turns into an outright tragedy as you realize you’re almost halfway done with this meal. It’s going to be a long time before you eat something that has this level of quality again.
>Fighting off the morose reality of the situation, you allow yourself to enjoy the now. The sweet, sweet, pineapple flavored now.
>”Excuse me, Miss Valorie?” You don’t recognize that voice and it jolts you from your gluttonous haze. You turn to the side to see a feline waiter leaning in between you and the lady ermine. 
>”Hm?” Valorie’s single note response toes the lines of polite and irritated. She must have been enjoying her meal.
>”Uncle Brodrick has requested that you join him at his side when you finish eating.” The waiter waited just long enough to see Valorie nod in acknowledgement before dismissing himself from the table’s presence.
>For the most part Valorie has seemed pretty put together, but you swear you heard a faint snort from beside you before she returns to her meal.
>A glance at your fellow guests reveals that Alan was the only other person who realized the exchange had happened, but he turns back to his fries.
>You follow suit, though reality butting its way back in to your thoughts has somewhat changed just how sweet your dinner is.
>Valorie finishes her rabbit quickly, but a sense of professionalism keeps you from watching her leave. Part of you wishes you could get a private conversation in with the ermine just to see what your future might look like, but now isn’t the time for that.
>You just savor what’s left of your meal before sitting back in your chair. Letting off that first satisfied exhale of a stuffed gut, you find yourself smiling. Everything seems to be going well so far tonight.
>Hell, you’re not much of a jazz fan and this band sounds good enough that you might spend an hour or two looking up some entry level nonsense when you get the chance.
>Samuel finishes third, somehow. You look at the mountain of discarded oyster shells and back to the otter. The man is a monster.
>He grins at you before he holds up a pair of finger guns and dramatically blows away the non-existent smoke.
>Then he looks at something over your shoulder.
>”Mr. Ymous, correct?”
>It’s the feline waiter again.
>”That’s me.” No need to play coy in the lion’s den, really. You turn to face the waiter.
>”Your sponsor has requested you be escorted to a private parlor when you’re finished here.” He doesn’t wait for your acknowledgement, pointing to a pair of doors that lead back to the main hall of the manor, “Just identify yourself with one of the staff on the other side of the door, and they’ll guide you to where you’ve been called to.”
>”Uh, thanks.” You reply, and he’s gone. When you turn back, you catch the guys looking your way before they return to their meals. Except Samuel, who instead takes an awkward drink from his glass of water.
>”Real smooth guys.” You jokingly lambaste them, but it’s only so you can buy time to think things over.
>A few minutes ago that very same waiter openly said Valorie’s sponsor’s name out loud. Why be so indirect when it came to you and Ari?
>Was it a mistake to openly talk to your fellow Cousins about your situation, or even mention Ari’s name?
>You know it’ll cause waves if it gets out that Ari has sponsored somebody, let alone sponsored a companion. It’s just a matter if those waves are ripples or earthquakes.
>Taking a deep breath, you turn to look at the council table. Ariannis is still up there, and standing across from her is the waiter. A second later he walks away, and you feel Ari’s gaze from across the room.
>You make eye contact, and she nods once. At first you think it goes unnoticed, but just a fraction of an angle to the side is Eileen, who noticed the nod and is now staring you down.
>You turn back around in your seat before you’re turned to a pillar of salt.
>Alan is finishing off his fries, but he’s looking right at you when he speaks. “Showtime?”
>”Just maybe.” You try to answer as coolly as you can manage. Following Valorie’s example and playing your cards close to your chest is the best course of action from here on out.
>After taking a drink to ease your drying throat, you sit up from the table. After a wordless wave of farewell, you scoot your chair back in and head for main hall.
>Thankfully others seem to be finishing their food at the same time, and you have a growing crowd to melt into while you leave the dining hall.
>Once you’ve managed to clear the double doors and make it into the main hall proper, you do your best to separate from the group.
>While trying to not look like a crazy person in the process, you start scanning the chests of anyone wearing a vest. Part of you is hoping to find that old canine gentleman again.
>Instead the first instance is of a silver flower pinned to someone’s breast is on a red haired human. He notices your search and recognition of his pin, and beckons you over before you can stop squinting.
>Too late to back out now, you straighten up and walk over to him. He bows lightly when you get into speaking range, “How can I be of service to a member of the Family?”
>”Uh, I’m Cousin Ymous. I was told that I was to be escorted to a parlor?” You were going to be upfront and professional while saying that, but being called a member of the Family put you off balance. You’re going to have to work on that confidence.
>”Not a problem. Wait right here, and I’ll fetch someone to guide you.” He smiles, and after waiting a beat to make sure you have nothing else to say he walks off.
>Time to people watch, you suppose. Or maybe not? Staring at the crowd would be an easy way to notice something that you weren’t supposed to. It would be an unnecessary burden on your mind to be a witness to a casual hand-off.
>Or, more pressing, an absolute shot to your nerves when you make eye contact with one of the vixen twins. Kay, judging by the straight black hair.
>She melds back into the crowd and is gone after you blink. You only witness her for a second, but you know you saw her in the moving crowd looking right at you.
>If you had to put money on a reason, Eileen was having you tailed. Within the Family manor.
>That amazon really didn’t trust you, did she?
>”Cousin Ymous?”
>You’re going to burn a hole in the heel of your shoes the way you keep wheeling around to face people talking to you from behind.
>Behind you is a thin deer of some kind. She bows her head, “I’ll be guiding you to your destination. Please do not fall behind or wander off.”
>”Alright. Lead the way.” You answer, wondering if Kay will continue to trace you through the manor while being escorted.
>Maybe not? How close could Eileen have you watched before she steps on Ariannis’s toes?
>You do your best to not do any rubber necking while walking through the halls. If Kay is right on your heels then so be it.
>Instead you focus on trying to not get lost. You’ve gone up a flight of stairs, walked along the balcony that overlooked a second main hall, went up another flight of stairs and you’re still walking.
>Every day must be cardio day for the staff here.
>Eventually you turn a corner to find yourself almost running into your guide when she suddenly stops in front of a door.
>”That was a bit of a hike,” You say as she fishes through a key ring. “I can’t imagine working here if it takes this long to get anywhere.”
>”We had to take the longer route due to your standing within the Family, Cousin Ymous. There is a quicker way straight to the parlor wing of the manor, but to put it politely,” She stops to unlock the door, opening it for you before stepping to the side, “Some things aren’t meant for your eyes, sir. Please understand.”
>You can’t stop the laugh that escapes when the doe says that. “Oh don’t worry about that. I already have enough things to worry about as is.”
>She smiles, but you’re not sure if it was the master crafted fake smile of someone in the service industry, or one of understanding. No doubt every secret she hears in this place only further cements her position as staff here.
>”Please, don’t hesitate to use the phone if you need something from the staff, and it will be brought to you as soon as we can manage.” The deer says as she pockets the key ring, which now that you look at it must weigh a ton. You can’t even count how many keys make up the bludgeoning instrument in her hands.
>”Alright, thanks.” You nod, stepping around her to make your way past the door. You would close it behind you, but she seems adamant on holding it open for you.
>The room that awaits is less like a parlor and more like the VIP lounge of a prohibition era speakeasy. You don’t see the silver glint of steel anywhere, only dark wood and brick. Even the lights hanging from the ceiling have an aged yellow glow.
>It’s kind of relaxing, actually.
>”Due to protocol regarding your rank, I will have to lock you in the parlor until someone comes to retrieve you. Please, do not panic. In the case of an emergency, someone will be sent to fetch you.”
>”Wait, what?”
>By the time you turn around the door is already closed, and you hear the heavy lurch of an deadbolt sliding into place.
>With it your stomach drops and you feel your dinner surge upwards as you fight cocktail of chemicals that primordial fear just pumped through your system.
>Your rational mind says everything will be fine, and Ariannis will be here any minute now. You know it’s true, and there is nothing to worry about.
>The instinctual part of your brain refuses to heed reason; you’ve been trapped in a dangerous place. Tricked by those you trusted when your guard was down. It doesn’t want to waste excess energy digesting food when you might need to sprint for six miles any second now.
>You cough, and start swallowing to keep that pineapple chicken down. The swallowing alternates with deep gulps of air as you find something to lean on and keep yourself steady.
>A few seconds later you give up on standing and fall into a leather sofa. Your head is spinning, but you can’t let yourself vomit. How would you explain that to Ari?
>You’re rubbing your forehead when you hear murmuring on the other side of the door.
>The sound of the deadbolt shifting again causes you sit up straight, or the straightest you can manage when your vision is still wobbling.
>The dragging hiss of air pressure escaping a sealed door covers the first few words, but you hear Ari’s voice clearly.
>”--Lly, Danielle. You didn’t need to say it in such a dramatic way.” Ariannis says as she opens the door. Behind her is a familiar doe, bowing her head.
>”Apologies, Lady Labbate. I will work on my phrasing from now on.” The deer doesn’t look up as she is chastised.
>You look up to Ari, and your face is once again easy to read as her grin dips into a frown.
>”That’s enough. Dismissed.” Ari waves the servant off, who doesn’t look into the room as she walks away.
>The feline waits for a time before speaking, “I’m locking the door again, Anon.”
 >Suddenly you find yourself laughing for some reason, “What the fuck was that?”
>”Dear?” Ari coos in concern, hesitating before locking the door again.
>Your skin crawls at the sound. The grind of metal before the resounding clunk of the bar falling into place.
>”Nothing. That lock is just...way too heavy. She turned that thing and I straight up had a panic attack.” You laugh again, mostly at yourself. You look up at Ari, and she’s already making her way to the sofa.
>”Be honest, I look like shit right now, don’t I?” The grin on your face doesn’t match the sweat on your forehead. 
>Sweat the Ariannis immediately wipes off with the back of her furred hand when she is close enough to do so. “Are you-?”
>”I’m okay. I promise.” You must be losing it, because every now and then you laugh at the concern on Ariannis’s face. “It’s just…everything is a bit surreal right now.”
>Her fingers are brushing against your check, and you watch her eye dart all over your face as she tries to figure out what’s wrong with you. “Anon…you’re a mess right now.”
>”Yeah, and this whole thing is actually kind of scary when I think about it. The Family, the whole crime thing. Eileen’s girls Seri and Kay. Getting locked in a room by myself.” You admit as you start to calm down.
>Being so close, you can see Ari’s eye dilate when you mention Eileen, Seri, and Kay. “Seri and Kay? When?” She goes frigid, and stops caressing your face.
>”When I got into the dining hall. They ambushed me, started flirting until I said you wouldn’t be happy if you saw me flirting with a pair of vixens.” You casually explain.
>”Kay watched me get led off by that deer girl, too. Eileen really doesn’t trust me I guess.” You can feel the grin crawl onto your face. “She either that or she really cares about you.”
>”Oh, ‘cares’ my tail. Sending Seri and Kay to trip you up, the-” Ari’s lips begin to curl back and your watch her fangs reveal themselves.
>You stop her by grabbing her by the wrists, rolling your thumbs across the back of her hands.
>It stops her tirade before she starts, and watching her calm down fills you with a warmth.
>For just a second, you see the affection hungry woman underneath the eyepatch.
>”Hey.” With a single word from you, Ari takes a deep grateful breath. As if she was drawing a sense of calm from your presence.
>”She’s not in the room right now, and I don’t think I can stand anymore Family talk and keep my dinner down.” You don’t know when you started whispering, but Ari’s ears flick and turn towards you to catch every word.
>”It’s just us right now. Do you mind relaxing instead of getting worked up?” You feel a grin on your face, and something in your chest flutter when Ari matches it with one of her own.
>”My Romeo Anon…a tie doesn’t suit you at all.” She purrs. Her hands slide down, and a clawed finger hooks into the nape of your burrowed tie.