Vulpe
Vulpe slipped out of the hotel room and headed to the payphone she'd seen in the lobby. Her tail swung back and forth, held just above the floor. A creamy brown hippy shirt with long flowing sleeves and tight light blue jeans made her sensual strut draw attention to the fox's brush and black hands that looked like they were encased in gloves of fine fur. A man yelled something derogatory at her and she sniped back, gaining an appreciative whistle from some girl. Vulpe grinned as she wiggled her ass and slid into the phonebooth. She had picked someone's pocket on the way down and slid coins into the slot.
"Ciao?" Her mother's voice asked.
"Ciao, madre!" Vulped grinned. Her mother went off into a soaring scolding in heated Italian. Vulpe's tail swished as she listened, grin splitting her face. They loved her, and she loved to have her mother go on in that halfheartedly annoyed fashion while really she had been worried sick and was just glad her little girl was alright.
"Li avete avuti malato preoccupato! Jean-Luc ha detto Remy denominato ieri, signora giovane! Perchè non li avete denominati? Eravamo in modo da preoccupato per che cosa era accaduto voi! Siete nella difficoltà profonda, figlia!" (You had us worried sick! Jean-Luc said Remy called yesterday, young lady! Why didn't you call us? We were so worried about what had happened to you! You are in deep trouble, daughter!)
"Amili anche, madre. Dove è il padre?" (Love you too, mother. Where's father?) Vulpe twirled the phone cord around her finger. She heard her mother take a breath on the other end, then soar off into another diatribe. Vulpe settled in for a long wait. After about ten minutes, regularily feeding coins into the slot, her mother stopped.
"Qui è il vostro padre. Spero possa comunicare il senso in voi, dio e tutti gli suoi angeli sa che non posso." Her mother sighed in Italy. (Here is your father. I hope he can talk sense into you, God and all his angels knows I can't.) A pause. "Amili, volpe rossa piccola."
"Amili anche, madre."
"Ciao, mia figalia," her father purred into the phone. Vulpe uttered a happy little sigh. He chuckled. "Li abbiamo mancati," he said slightly reprovingly. (We missed you.)
"Li ho mancati anche." (I missed you too.)
"Così, dicami che cosa è accaduto," Stefano ordred, becoming the Patriach of the Thieves Guild. Vulpe snapped out of daughter mode and into Thief, carefully detailing what had happened in Quantico. Her father clucked his tongue at points, hissed disapprovingly and once even swore. That threw her, he didn't swear, but she only hesitated for an instant before continuing on. Soon, she had reached the point of the phone call, and detailed what she felt was her companions strength and weaknesses, accompanied by sometimes scathing charactre descriptions. "Elle topa...suona interessante."
"È dolce e cara e se la reclutate mai li bollirò vivi," Vulpe threatened in a sweet voice. (She's sweet and darling, and if you ever recruit her I will boil you alive.) Her father barked in surprised laughter. "Molto non sto scherzando, padre caro. È troppo buona per verso l'esterno la linea di lavoro. Non potrebbe neppure sopportarla quando ho sparato quei che la danneggiassero. La sua anima è pura e la vorrei per rimanere quel senso. Provate a portarli in... e troverò un senso ucciderli lentamente e penosamente." (I am very not joking, father dear. She's too good for out line of work. She couldn't even bear it when I shot the ones who hurt her. Her soul is pure and I would like it to stay that way. You try to bring her in...and I will find a way to kill you slowly and painfully.)
"Sì, sì, la lascerò sono. Ma vorrei venirlo a contatto di." (Yes, yes, I will leave her be. But I would like to meet her.)
"Se desidera venirla a contatto, può." (If she wants to meet you, she can.) They chattered away happily for a few more minutes while the load of shrapnel Vulpe had grew smaller. And then her father dropped a bombshell.
"Jean-Luc li desidera visitarli a New Orleans, in modo da rimarrete più lungamente in America per un poco. È alright quello, quella piccola?" Vulpe gaped for a moment, then screamed in delight. In Rome, her father removed the phone from his ear. Vulpe's ecstatic babbles came though clearly. "Lo prenderò che quello è sì?"
"Si, si, SI!"
"Buon. Trasmetterò i soldi attraverso al vostro cliente, bella."
"Grazie. Amili," Vulpe carolled into the phone.
"Amili anche. Arrivederci."
"Arrivederci, Poppa." They hung up and Vulpe decided to go outside for a few moments. While there, there was a small problem which Vulpe solved quickly and economically. She bounced up tp her room and flung herself on the bed. She curled up to sleep, then cracked an eye open at the woman who was sharing her room. "There's a dead man in the parking lot. Thought you might want to know." Vulpe closed her eye again.
Clint
When Clint found out about the escape, he quickly went to the hotel he had been told Vulpe was staying at. He knocked on the door, hoping she would be willing to talk to him.
Vulpe
Vulpe got off her bed and stalked over to the door. She opened it and leaned against it, arms crossed and tail tucked neatly around her legs. "Si?" She calculated in her head how quickly she could kill him, just for practice. She wasn't intending to do it...yet. He hadn't shown cause, but she would be ready in case he tried something.
Clint
"Miss Vulpe? My name is Clint Moffatt. I'm an agent with an organization called the YIRAAS. I'd like to talk to you about the midnight market, if I may," he asked, trying to be polite and not irritate her.
Vulpe
"They bastardi, they going to die." Vulpe shrugged. "The Thieves Guild take care of it, you'll see. They deserve to burn in hell for what they did to mia amica. I hope to mio Dio that the ones I shot do." Her tail moved restlessly.