Note: read “Say My Name” first.
In the dead of night, a burglar tries to pry a window open.
“Kom igjen, jævla ting, bare åpne!”
He’s spent weeks staking the house out, and knows that the owners are now on vacation.
When he hears the sound of thunder, the burglar looks up.
“Det er rart. Det er ikke veldig overskyet. Vent, oh shit, det betyr–”
A marshmallow hoof taps the burglar on the shoulder.
When he turns around…
That very same hoof knocks the burglar out.
And Vidunder, defender of Tønsberg, grins down at the burglar as the heroic fluffy floats in the air.
“Su, Vi-dun-duw am jus gunna ass-yoom dat dit nu am yu housie.”
It’s been a while since we saw that lonely little colt become empowered by the Norse gods.
He’s been dutifully defending Tønsberg, but he hasn’t yet ventured beyond Midgard, or Earth, as it’s called nowadays.
And he adopted the name given to him by the people.
Two names, actually.
For, while Vidunder will forever be at the prime of his life, his mortal identity has grown up into a stallion too.
His secret has not yet been exposed to the normos, but a kindly homeless women he once had a very pleasant conversation with, while they were both hiding from the rain under the same awning, suggested a name he liked the sound of:
In an alleyway, after checking that he’s not being watched, Vidunder invokes the magic word, changing back into Billy.
Then he waddles away, before the sound draws attention.
He left that burglar on the doorstep of a police station before flying away.
All in all, he thinks it was a success.
Unbeknownst to Billy, two individuals standing on a rooftop saw him transform, and are watching him waddle away.
A man and a fluffy.
The former, with brown hair in a ponytail, blue eyes, and a muscular body, clad in a black battle suit with green, red and yellow lines.
“He’s doing pretty well by himself, don’t you think?”
The latter, an equally muscular green earthie stallion, with a red and yellow mane, and orange eyes.
“Yus, daddeh. But mebbeh he cud be duin bettah wif a widdew hewp.”
“Well, that’s why we’re here. Let’s see where he’s going…”
Billy keeps waddling through the alleys, looking around, occasionally sniffing.
He can smell other fluffies in the alleys, most likely sleeping in cardboard boxes or nests made of discarded newspapers, rags and the like.
It’s a rather peaceful night for the fluffies of Tønsberg. At the moment, that is.
As Billy stifles a yawn, he thinks about his own nest, but knows that he can’t go to bed yet.
The night is young, and there might be someone in need of a hero.
Billy really understands the meaning of the word “burden” now.
“Dis am gunna be anudda wong dawk time.”
“Burning the candle at both ends, are you?”
Billy turns to the voice, seeing Calvin Korkea casually leaning against a brick wall with his arms folded, and Marley sitting on his fluffy little bum.
“Hi there. You must be Billy. Or should I say…”
Calvin takes a device out of one of his pouches, pressing a button.
“…Vidunder? Yes, I think that look on your face confirms it. Don’t worry, that device I just used prevents anyone from overhearing us. Do you know who I am?”
As Calvin puts the Sound-Blocker away, Billy nods.
“Da Bestest Hoomin, wite? Biwwy haf huwd abowt yu.”
“That’s right. We’ve been trying to get in touch with you for a while, y’know.”
Marley cracks a grin.
“It am nu wike yu haf a fone. Yu wuz weawwy hawd tu fine, su Mawwey hope dat Biwwy app-wee-shee-ate aww da hawd wowk we haf dun tu make dis happun.”
“Su wai du yu wan tu tawk tu Biwwy?”
“Well, there’s two reasons. First of all, I’m curious about how you got your powers. I don’t think you’re X-Positive, or magical, and I’ve heard the rumors. They say you’ve got the powers of the Norse gods. Is that true?”
Billy has a gut feeling that the duo can be trusted with the truth, so he nods.
“Yus. Da powah of Thow, da sens-ess of Haim-daw, da wis-dum of Oh-din, da kuh-wage of Ska-dee, da speed of Huw-mud, an da imm-ow-tawwy-tee of Ai-dun. An wen Biwwy say da namesie Thoshi…”
Calvin looks Vidunder up and down.
“Very impressive. But how did you get these powers?”
Vidunder recounts the events that transpired when he was just an ordinary colt: how he discovered a door that lead straight to Yggdrasil, the World Tree, and was chosen to wield gifts safeguarded since the Battle of Gods, by a man called…
“An nao, ev-wee time Biwwy say da namesie, Biwwy change fowms.”
Calvin processes the story he’s just heard, lighting a spliff with a fingersnap.
Marijuana may still be illegal in many countries on Earth, but when one has saved the planet at least a dozen times, people are willing to let certain things slide.
He kneels down, giving Marley a puff.
“No prob. Billy, you want a hit?”
“Biwwy am gud.”
Calvin stands up straight, pensively puffing on the spliff.
“Honestly, I’m kinda surprised. I know about the Battle of Gods too. All of the gods save one were cast out. And they almost came back a couple of years ago. So I’m not sure how to feel about this, but we can figure that out later. Tonight, we’ve got more earthly matters to discuss. We’re here to make you an offer, Billy: how would you like to join the ChaotiX? You know what that is, right?”
Billy does, but he seems hesitant about the idea of joining.
“Biwwy nu wud haf tu weave Tons-bewg, wite?”
“Not if you don’t wanna. We could hook you up with a blipper collar, but it sounds like you can already go anywhere on Earth via Yggdrasil.”
“Mawwey wan see Eeg-dwah-siw wif Mawwey own see-pwaces.”
“It am weawwy taww. Yu nu can see da tawp fwom da bottum. Aneewhewe in da Nine Weawms, Biwwy can gu, but Biwwy nu haf gon tu da udda Weawms yet.”
“Not gonna lie, I’ve been wondering where the gods went. None of my friends in high places will tell me. Valhalla’s in Asgard, right? Maybe the Norse gods are all holed up in there.”
“Daddeh am pwob-ab-wee gunna gu foweba sweepies fite-in, su daddeh am gunna fine owt soonuw ow watew.”
“Ha! Yeah, I can’t deny that. Hopefully, I’ll get to see the kids grow up first.”
“Mawwey awweady gut tu see Mawwey babbehs gwo up, su scowe wun fow fwuffy-kine.”
“You’re on a roll tonight, Mar.”
Calvin takes another puff.
“Let’s get back on topic, Bill-- d’you mind if I call you Bill?”
Billy shrugs, so Calvin continues.
“Anyway, lemme tell you about the perks. I happen to know that the Foundation has a branch here in Tønsberg. They could set you up with your own private saferoom, and you’d be free to come and go as you see fit. It’ll have its own phone, so contacting HQ won’t be an ordeal. You’re not the only fluffy member we’ve got working solo away from HQ, Bill. We can do a lot to cater to your specific needs, and you’ll always have a say in the matter. This isn’t a draft, this is just an offer.”
Billy rubs his chin with a marshmallow hoof.
“Su… su if Biwwy say nu…”
“Then we’ll leave you alone. Maybe swing by to see how you’re doing from time to time, have a nice chat.”
Marley grins again.
“As wong as yu nu tuwn ebiw, we nu gutta pwob-wem wif yu.”
“Yeah, and I’d rather it not come to that, because one fluffy with a God complex is enough. I know what it’s like, Billy. Mar and I possess the kind of power that could be called godlike. But if we start acting like we are gods… well, I’ve seen the result with my own eyes. It ain’t pretty. That’s why I’m making this offer, dude. All I really want here is to make sure that you stay on the straight and narrow.”
Marley nods sagely, an air of cosmic wisdom about him.
“Wif gwate powah, dewe mus awso come gwate wee-spon-sah-biwwy-tee.”
“Knocked another one outta the park, buddy. So do you get what we mean, Bill? We want to help you, but we can’t and won’t force you to accept help. Whether you walk on two legs or four, or more, you’ve still got rights, and Norway is one of those countries which recognizes that. And wherever the ChaotiX goes, we always recognize it. So the choice is entirely up to you. And you don’t even have to make the choice now. Take all the time you need to think it over. When you’ve made your choice, head to the local Faucheuse Foundation branch, tell one of the employees you need to call me. We can easily arrange something with them.”
Calvin gives Billy directions to the branch. He’s assuming that street names mean little to a fluffy, but he knows how to explain it best in fluffy terms.
“When you see the statue of the wolf and two babies, you’ll know you’re almost there…”
When he’s done, he looks Billy in the eyes.
“So did you get all of that, Bill?”
Billy nods, and Calvin knows how to recognize certain signs that he actually understood.
“Biwwy gut it, mistah Caw. Wen Biwwy haf made Biwwy choice, gu tu da Foun-day-shun.”
“Excellent. If I’m not busy at the time, we’ll come back right away. We’ve got a lot on our plate. Like, tomorrow, we’ve gotta meet a new X-Positive in Ukraine. A teenage girl developed the power of sonic screaming. We’re gonna have Danny and Ghost train her, they can do something similar.”
“Mebbeh we shud copee dat, daddeh. Fow wen we fine Cawnage.”
“Christ, there’s a lot of bad guys out there these days. You get the point, Bill? We’ll try to answer right away, but there’s always a chance that something drags us away from the phone, so keep that in mind. Worst case, we send one of our teammates to handle it.”
Calvin taps the ChaotiX logo on his battle suit.
“If you see this symbol, you know you can trust the person wearing it.”
After the first time an abuser tried to trick fluffies with a homemade battle suit, and Calvin’s furious reaction to the stunt, few abusers have tried it since.
There was, in fact, a short-lived business selling fake ChaotiX battle suits and ID cards to abusers.
They quickly pulled the plug on the business after someone smooshed all of their cars into a big ball of scrap, spray painted the word “CUNTS” on it, and dropped it through the roof.
None of the morons were in the way, but all of them got the point, and several of them needed a change of pants. And socks. And shoes.
After that, the abusers gave up on that scheme entirely.
Calvin only tolerates ChaotiX cosplay if the cosplayers are hugboxers.
He gets that the ChaotiX has many fans, but he doesn’t want the logo to be associated with abuse. The team has worked very hard to establish a good reputation, and Calvin has very little patience for attempts to besmirch that reputation.
He knows what could happen if people decide that the ChaotiX aren’t so trustworthy after all:
Death squads, camps, giant killer robots.
After all, he grew up reading comic books.
And as he’s said many times by now:
The ChaotiX is not the fucking X-Men.
Calvin and Marley bid Billy adieu, teleporting home after Calvin turns his Sound-Blocker off.
When they’re gone, Billy moves on, continuing to patrol the alleyways.
A few alleys away, he finds a foal, who woke up to make poopies, waddled out of the nest, and couldn’t find his way back when he was done.
“Wh-whewe am boxie-nestie? Where am mummah? Whewe am bwuddah an sissies? Chirp. Huu…”
That can happen. Few species have a knack for getting lost like fluffies do.
Some particularly dense fluffies can get lost five steps away from home.
Billy smiles, seeing another opportunity to do some good, and one he won’t need a drop of Vidunder’s awe-inspiring power for.
He offers the foal a ride home, and after a few attempts, manages to figure out where the foal’s home is.
He realizes that it’s the very next alley. It was stated that fluffies are depressingly talented at getting lost.
Billy carefully lifts the foal onto his back, and waddles towards his destination, finding the foal’s family still sleeping soundly in their cardboard home, unaware of the peril one of their number was in.
He lowers the foal to the ground, feeling a warm fuzzy feeling in his hard as he sees the foal snuggle up in the fluffpile and yawn.
“Fank yu. Peep.”
Billy salutes the foal with a marshmallow hoof, whispering to him.
“Stay cwose tu yu mummah fwom nao awn. Biwwy mite nu be dewe nex time.”
With that, Billy waddles off into the night.
He’ll probably keep patrolling for a few hours, but fluffies aren’t night owls by nature, and even a fluffy empowered by the Norse gods needs his beauty sleep.
Unbeknownst to Billy, someone on a rooftop watches him waddle away.
The ghost of an old man, his red hair and beard going grey, wearing a travelling cloak.
Thoshi’s spirit smiles proudly and warmly.
“You’re doing well, innocent one. You use the power wisely.”
He looks up to the heavens, the smile fading.
“And you will need it. So many threats beyond Midgard. More than I ever imagined in life. And no telling which one will strike next. Oh well…”
His spirit fades too, returning to the afterlife.
“There’s little I can do about it now.”