"Expanding Borders" by NobodyAtAll

“So, what’s the point of this experiment, exactly? You’re not gonna crush the poor thing, are you?”

Mon Dieu, no! I’m trying to figure out the exact minimum size a carrier can be without the fluffy thinking it’s a sorry box. I want our new line of deluxe carriers to be as large as possible, without being too big to, you know, actually carry.”

“You really care about fluffies, don’t you?”

“I wish more people cared as much as I do. Humanity created them, they’re our responsibility, and still too many people treat them like vermin. As if it’s their fault that PLASMA released them into the wild before they were ready. Someone I know once told me that there’s no justice, but damn it all, I’m going to make some.”

Pierre, Deston and Xavier are in Pierre’s lab. A few floors down, on the floor where Pierre usually works on the P53 situation non-stop, another Pierre is doing just that. Miles away, a third Pierre is checking in on the Fondas.

Pierre and Xavier are standing in front of a pen-like contraption, with one fluffy test subject, A-42, placed inside.

Deston is currently slumped in an armchair nearby, apparently sleeping, a big, flowery, floppy hat placed on his head. Pierre can never resist. Plus, it unnerves him, seeing his brother’s eyes when he’s like this. And this is coming from the guy who plucked his own eyes out and jammed cybernetic ones in the empty sockets.

Pierre and Xavier know that Deston is alright, even though he doesn’t appear to be breathing right now.

On a small table next to the armchair, there is a bottle full of a purplish sludge-like substance.

The bottle is faintly glowing.


vrrrrrrrt

“How about now, A-42? Do you feel any distress?”

“Wha dis-stwess meen?”

“I mean, do you feel like you’re in a sorry box?”

The fluffy actually thinks about it.

“Nu. Woomie am bit smawwew nao, but nu tuu smaww.”

vrrrrrrrt

“How about now?”

As Pierre adjusts the size of the pen, taking care not to crush A-42, Deston starts breathing again, sits up straight, irritably discards the hat (Damn it, brother! Every time!), uncorks the bottle and starts forcing the purple sludge down his throat.

Bleeeeeaaaaach. I hate the taste of this stuff. Too bad sugar makes it useless.” Deston smacks his lips, trying to get the aftertaste out. His eyes glow a faint purple, matching the glow of the foul substance he just ingested perfectly. It doesn’t usually last long.

Pierre doesn’t turn around, or acknowledge his brother’s complaint about the flavor of his “beverage”. He’s heard it all before.

“Well?”

Well, our thin friends don’t have a clue either. They don’t know what’s up with Tommy. Not dead, not a cyborg, not a… well, y’know. We have no idea what he is.”

Pierre finally turns to his brother.

“It may be something there isn’t a word for, yet. Tommy isn’t the only case of Phenomenon X. There have been others. This could be the start of something… something new.

Deston is concerned. He gets up and walks over to his brother.

“Others? Others who can see… them?

Xavier is concerned too, even though he hasn’t, yet, had the dubious honor of meeting them. But everyone will, sooner or later.

Pierre clarifies the matter.

“Others who can do things that most people can’t. And it’s not just limited to humans. The first cases of Phenomenon X in fluffies have been recorded, too.”

Xavier is confused, but Deston is the one to remind him.

“Fluffies have human DNA in them too, remember? So if the cause of Phenomenon X is in the human genome, which is the most likely theory so far, and human DNA is part of the fluffy genome, then fluffies have the potential for Phenomenon X as well. We really need to think up a better name for it, Pierre, by the way.”

Xavier slumps into the armchair previously occupied by Deston, his head in his hand.

Jesus. Syndrome-P53, Phenomenon X, robot bodies… I know you warned me, when I first joined the Cabal, that things were going to get weird, but I didn’t think things would get this weird.”

Xavier is still reeling from the little talk he had with the Faucheuse brothers last week, in which he learned exactly how Pierre gets so much work done, and exactly what was in that bottle Deston just drank from, among other things. He’s been sworn to secrecy. They wouldn’t have told him if they didn’t know he could be trusted with these precious secrets. He wouldn’t be in the Fluffy Cabal if they didn’t trust him.

Pierre walks over and amiably pats his comrade on the shoulder. He can tell Xavier is distressed. His heartrate just skyrocketed.

“I know it’s all a lot to take in, Xavier. Just last week, the world seemed so small to you, and, much like a mare who feels a bit frisky after watching FluffTV and runs off, you’ve found out that the world is much bigger and wider and deeper and more layered than you could have possibly imagined, and now you feel lost. I know, I really do. I once felt the same way, a long time ago.”

Deston walks over too.

“As did I. I’ve learned that things that most people dismiss as impossible are anything but. The paths my brother and I have chosen may differ, but they’ve got one big thing in common: when we make a new discovery that shatters all of our preexisting notions of what’s possible, we don’t reject it, we embrace it. We learn about it, and in doing so, we better ourselves.”

At this point, A-42, now being ignored, starts pleading for one of the nice mistahs to please let him out of the sorry box before he makes bad scaredy poopies. Pierre, profusely apologizing, readjusts the pen and continues the experiment.

A-42 is one of the smartest, best-behaved test subjects Pierre has, so he’s treated moderately well, and spared from any experiments that are likely to kill the subject.

The fat, stupid, arrogant smarties who come in, however, are first in line for the lethal experiments, like the still ongoing P53 trials. Yes, still no breakthrough. The last version of the formula caused spontaneous combustion in any fluffy exposed to P53. The upside is that it saves Pierre the effort of dumping them in the incinerator. The downside is that the cleanup is a bitch. Oh, and the screaming.

Xavier, now calmed by Deston, checks his phone. A new message came in. He reads it. Oh boy.

“Listen, guys, I’ve got to get going. Apparently Bill was caught giving bad special huggies to some of the younger AAs. I’ve got to go #MeToo his fluffy little ass. We’ve got to stop naming them after controversial human actors. I already had to retire Andy a while back. It feels like a jinx.”

Deston smiles mysteriously.

“I know a jinx when I see one, and it’s no jinx. It’s just bad luck, is all. Nicolas is doing great, I just saw his latest appearance on Iron Fluff yesterday, good stuff.”

“Thanks, Des. Y’know, the hard part is telling Nic when to stop. Once he gets going, he goes wild, just like his namesake. But we’ll have to pick this up another time.”

Xavier takes his leave, extracting from his pocket a device identical to the one Pierre gifted Victor, that Victor insists on calling a blipper.

Xavier is grateful for this, as it will make his job a lot easier.

Pierre knows this, and gave it to him to show him the perks of the new world he’s found himself in.

After Xavier has left, Deston takes his leave too. He needs to finish his next book. He doesn’t have a blipper, but he doesn’t need one.

Pierre and A-42, now alone, get back to the experiment in peace and quiet.

“Again, so sorry, A-42. I completely forgot you were trapped in there.”

“Dat am awwite, doktow.”

vrrrrrrrt

“So, how about now?”

9 Likes

this. this is how i see it.

3 Likes

FUCK I WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS EARLIER
gave them the puddin pop

3 Likes

Yup. And there’s a reason that Pierre cares so much about fluffies. Actually, there are several reasons, but one in particular is covered in the story “The Bear Necessities”.

No, the name of that story is not a typo.

1 Like

I SWARE IT IS A JINX
i shouldnt have laughed so damn hard at this joke-

its blipper

1 Like