((This is not canon, not intended to be canon, and may not be used as canon. Its simply an interpretation of how I view things about Reddit/Fluffy Community regarding canon))
It can be a little hard to work with two cats and three fluffies, but at least they are mostly cuddling at the moment. Purring and random cooing are soothing. Pity my laptop’s keyboard is not quieter.
“Wha daddeh doin’?”
Mint has crawled up onto the pillows I’m laying against, little green wings fluttering. Cute little thing has the stockier body of an Earthy but is actually a Pegasus. Sized somewhere between a golf-ball and a tennis ball. Not actually a small Micro, but with “human magic” I made her into one. Seems to have worked well overall, honestly. The small room I’m renting and the small backyard to the house are now quite large to her.
“May I give you upsies?”
“Pwease daddeh!”
I pick Mint up and rest the green little fluffy on my shoulder so she can see better. I steal a quick peek at Fern and Hot Dog over with the cats then back to my screen. Coconut, my American Ragdoll, is snoring rather loudly. Hard to hear if the others are doing the same through that.
“Daddeh nu pway game?”
“Not tonight, sweetie.”
“Wha doin’ den?”
“Making things!”
I’ve got FC/OS running in a virtual machine. A basic install, but pretty much all a user like me needs. FluffIM is open to one side, conversations going on with some of the other folks at FluffyCommunity. WowdBuiwda takes up most of the screen. “Fluffy Jobs” and “Fluffy No Go” are grouped together in one project. “Napoleon & Hipolyta” are another. That one is getting bigger, faster, than I had anticipated. But its been fun, so no worries.
I gesture up on the trackpad, hiding “Trap Foal” and “Caught.” We’re not ready for that conversation yet. Not that she can read, but projects have thumbnails. A quick double-click on “Fluffy Jobs” opens it up, sub-projects now showing.
“Nyu fwends?” she gasps, excitement fairly evident.
“Maybe,” I reply, hitting the preview button. She’s enraptured as a brown Earthy scoots along a wooden floor, pushing a small brush around. I notice that Fern and Hot Dog are up now. The words “nyu fwends” must have caught their attention.
“Would you like upsies?”
“Pwease daddeh! Pwease!” Fern is bouncing around in circles. I laugh as I notice my eyes squinting. I thought I had gotten all the zoomies out of her earlier, but I guess she gets better mileage from rest than the others. Probably the smallest of the three, she’s lean and energetic for a micro-sized Pegasus. “Wan’ see nyu fwends!”
“Yesh pwease, daddeh.” Hot Dog asks. A quick reach over the bed produces a triangular pillow for her, soft to the touch but firm and solid. I adopted her from Emotional Support Fluffy, who in turn rescued her from an abuser. Sadly, it was too late to save Hot Dog’s legs, but she’s been able to adjust to being a Huggy Friend for the most part. Not the ideal outcome, but it is what it is.
“So, I’m trying to think of new ideas for something I make call ‘Fluffy Jobs.’”
“Wha’s a job, daddeh?” Mint asks.
“Jobsies aw wha’ hoomins hab to get nummies and houses,” replies Hot Dog.
“Fewn hab jobsies! Pway wid baww fwend! No wet bwocksies ge’ wonewy! Daddeh gib houses and nummies tu Fern fo dat!”
Mint is impressed. Hot Dog less so.
“Anyhow, this fluffy helps clean. And this one takes not-nummies out of the ground. And here’s one that looks for trashies in the water to make it pretty.”
That last one gets a round of “oooooh”s.
“Daddeh, aw dees weaw fwuffies?”
“They are, Hot Dog.”
“Can Howt Dog go shee fwuffy?”
I pause. I wasn’t expecting that question. I mean, I should have in all honesty.
“Maybe, but not right now.”
“Wai daddeh? Dey wight dewe!” Fern is pointing with her snout, tail going back and forth at a hundred miles per hour, hooves doing a little dance.
“But they aren’t here.”
“Wha’ daddeh mean?” Mint inquires.
“Hmm… do you remember when daddy talks to his friends on the laptop? How daddy can see and talk to them, but they’re not actually here?”
The three pause then nod. I think Hot Dog and Mint mean it.
“So, these fluffies are like that. You can see them but they’re not here.”
“Can Fewn tawksies wiff fwuffies? HEWWO FWUFFIES! NYU FWEND? WAN PWAY?”
“Fwuffy doin’ jobsies, Fewn,” Hot Dog chided. “No bodda fwuffy wight naow.”
“Otay,” was all the chastised Fern could muster. The green Pegasus plopped down on her hind-quarters, pink tail between her legs. I stroke her gently, smiling as she began to lean into it. Then grab my fingers. An open book, even by fluffy standards.
“So weah fwuffy den, daddeh?”
“Those fluffies live in a different world.”
Part 2: Explaining The Fluffy-Verse to Busy Fluffies: Part 2 by Chikahiro
