Note: read “Sometimes You’re Sweater Off Not Knowing” first.
It’s Jeff again. Hey. How ya doin’?
It’s been a few days, and I’m slowly but surely getting used to the new status quo, learning a lot and trying hard not to forget any of it.
There’s a shitload to remember, so I’ve been using my new COMP to take notes. There’s an app for that, it’s a real lifesaver.
Yeah. Those things have apps.
It’s still a bit weird, me in the ChaotiX. Some of my new teammates actually agree that it’s weird, but Cal’s been doing everything he can to make me feel like a part of the team.
He said that getting me a battle suit might help with that. Apparently, it’s a rite of passage. Most members start off wearing those ugly grey training suits until they design their own, at Valerie’s lab in Faucheuse Tower.
What I don’t get is, why did they deliberately make the training suits look so bad? Maybe it’s just to make new recruits more eager to get their own custom suit. I dunno, I’ll ask.
I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t been thinking about what my hypothetical battle suit would look like.
Not designed to look like the sweater, at any rate.
I’ve been looking at the rest of the team’s attire, hoping to get inspired.
Jack’s battle suit is saffron, and at first I thought that the legs were exposed. He wanted his battle suit to be a bikini leotard, I have been informed, and flesh tone legs are a compromise.
Keep this between us, but when I first met Jack, I thought he was a woman. It happens to him a lot, and with the way he dresses, it’s just gonna keep happening.
And he became the first ChaotiX member I worked up the courage to hit on.
Because of course he would. Just my fucking luck.
When I realised that he isn’t a woman, I was, of course, deeply embarrassed.
I mean, I don’t have a problem with gay people, but I don’t swing that way.
I told him not to tell anyone, but naturally, he told the entire team.
Which only made me even more embarrassed, but Konba and Valerie reassured me that that’s how everyone found out about their… relationship.
So it’s not like it only happens to me.
But in Konba and Valerie’s case, it was June Baron who told everyone. Me and Electra have met her, she’s Cal’s grandmother via his late father Quinton, and the second-strongest witch in the world. Her fluffy, Greebo, is who Marley copied that power to turn human from.
Greebo is also Scarface’s brother. He’s a one-eyed bastard too, but June fusses over him like he’s still an innocent little foal.
And June is the best friend of Annette, wife of Dr. Deston Faucheuse, who takes the gold medal. The pictsies call Annette the Hag O’ Hags. They mean it as a compliment, I’ve been assured. Hags are just what pictsies call witches.
She eagerly told us a lot about herself. She lives in the UK, is the unofficial ruler of her town and the world’s best midwife, and she’s the matriarch of a huge family, most of whom live within shouting distance of her house. She said that she’s been married three times, and that’s only the official score.
Apparently, she’s also an old flame of Victor, and he’s actually the father of a couple of her kids.
He’s not Cal’s grandfather, though. I asked, Cal’s grandfather was called Mika. Cal and Victor are distantly related, but via Cal’s mother’s side of the family.
Frankly, I’m not surprised that Victor and June hooked up in the past. They’ve got a lot in common. And from his point of view, she’s still a young woman.
Yeah, I know that he’s immortal. Again, I’ve been sworn to secrecy. So shush, you didn’t hear that from me.
But I don’t know how old he really is, so don’t ask me how many generations are between Victor and Cal.
One of June’s other sons, Cal’s half-uncle Mel, is the ChaotiX’s weapons guy. Like half the weapons the ChaotiX use have been made and/or repaired by Mel.
Five minutes into my first conversation with June, I started feeling like I’ve known her my entire life. When she was done talking about herself, and asked me to tell her a thing of two about myself, I found myself just as eager to tell her my life story.
I just felt completely at ease around her. She’s like the grandma I wish I had. I wasn’t very fond of Nana Robinson.
Nana Robinson was kinda racist. The bar isn’t very high.
June told me that me and Electra can call her Nanny, even though we’re not related, because she’s everyone’s Nanny in a metaphorical way.
I think she’s a lot nicer than Nana Robinson was.
She knows a lot of dirty jokes and even dirtier songs, but she’s very friendly.
But I can’t help but wonder: do I like Nanny so much because she magicked me into liking her, or is it because she’s just that likeable?
She’s certainly got a way with people, I’ll give her that.
And is it just me, or are there a lot of Brits in the ChaotiX?
I’ve met Reiner and the rest of the Warriors Four, which is how I know what a pictsie is. They’re like Smurfs, except they’re extremely Scottish, they love to drink, fight and steal, and they take offence if you call them Smurfs.
And Reiner is probably British. He doesn’t remember much about his early childhood, but he’s pretty sure that his parents were British immigrants.
Come to think of it, this city has a lot of British immigrants, doesn’t it? What’s up with that, anyway?
I’ve met Miles, one of Cal’s protégés. He can fix any machine, so I know who I’m calling when I need my car fixed. He’s British too. And one quarter Irish, he said. He’s got an older brother who works at one of FauCorp’s breeding facilities.
Even the Chief of Police in these parts is a Brit. His family moved here when he was very young, I think.
And even the Mayor is British, or at least born in America to… you guessed it… British immigrants.
That makes him eligible to be the President! And he’s actually going to run for office! His campaign has seriously gained a lot of traction!
He’s a mayor! When has a mayor ever won the Presidential election?!?
They’re both members of the Fluffy Cabal, and I’m not a Cabal member, but I am a ChaotiX member now, so yeah, I know about the Cabal, but I haven’t gotten to see one of their meetings for myself.
I know the gist. It’s some legitimate Illuminati shit, but with a pro-fluffy rights agenda.
Cal’s a Cabal member too, being the leader of the ChaotiX and all. Even Tommy is a member. I’m not entirely sure why.
And they meet at the School, so I have seen them leave the meeting room after one of their meetings, and they were willing to make introductions.
Which is how I met Commissioner Jackson and Mayor Logan.
The former sternly told me to keep my nose clean, or he’ll see to it that I spend the rest of my days doing porridge.
He had to clarify that means being in prison.
I politely thanked him for his helpful and friendly advice.
I see why everyone calls him Old Stoneface now.
And because I’ve met the latter, I can say this:
If anyone can go straight from Mayor to President, he can.
It’s kind of odd that Mayor Logan a good guy.
Because it feels like he was meant to be a tyrant.
A benevolent tyrant, perhaps. But still a tyrant.
I don’t think he’s a bad person, though. A cold, pragmatic person, but not a bad person.
Sure, I heard that he hates mimes, but everyone has their own odd little quirks, don’t they?
I’m sure that the rumor about the secret scorpion pit in City Hall is just a rumor.
When he looked at me, I felt like he was trying to figure out which lever he’d have to pull to make me dance to his tune.
He’s, ah…
He’s also got a way with people.
At the moment, I’m at the School’s training facility, sitting on a bench and watching Cal train again. Electra and Marley are here too, sitting on the floor next to me. And I’m wearing the sweater, with the new logo patch.
Cal’s got his sword out. It’s called the Sword of Kings, he’s said. He got that in England too, from a place called Fairy Hollow, because the Faucheuse brothers’ dad was up to no good, and the Sword of Kings needed a Champion to stop him.
One of the previous Champions of the Sword of Kings was King Arthur. You know what that means? It means that sword in Cal’s hand is fucking Excalibur.
And if that’s not crazy enough, it’s also fucking Gram.
And fucking Joyeuse. The one in the Louvre is a fake, if everything I’ve been told is true, and I’m not 100% sure that they’re not just screwing with me sometimes.
But I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff by now, so most of the stuff I’ve learned since joining the team… well, it’s not as unbelievable as the things I’ve seen Chaos do.
As Cal explained, a giant magical talking tree lives in Fairy Hollow with a bunch of fairies, hence the name of the place. There’s a passageway to Magicca there, it’s called the Pit of Giaga.
Yes, a talking tree, I had to ask Cal to confirm I heard that correctly. His name is Gaius, Cal said.
What does it say about me that I think a talking tree is stranger than fairies?
Right now, Cal is surrounded by a dozen hard light holograms of Dehak, so I finally know what that asshole looks like.
Tall, broad, old, looking like a walking corpse. I can’t tell what race he is, his skin’s just sort of greyish. Rotten eyes with red irises and yellow sclera, stringy grey hair and beard. A very dark purple robe, a black cape with silver skull clasps, and buckled boots with curled points.
All of the Holo-Dehaks surrounding Cal look like that, except one, which is wearing a red and gold version of that outfit, and a matching crown.
And all of them are grinning maliciously, delivering taunts to Cal in a very deep, raspy, electronic voice.
“You can’t run, boy.”
“Kneel before Lord Dehak.”
“Pay for your crimes against the Almighty.”
Cal sighs.
“Why did I enable the speech function?”
If I see the real Dehak, I’ll grab Electra and run like Cal told me to do, and hopefully, I’ll remember to zigzag when Dehak starts casting.
This actually isn’t me and Electra’s first time watching a training session. We’ve watched Cal do this before. He’s practicing a new move he learned, that Whirling Blade thing.
Like I said, they’ve got some serious tech in this training facility. They can simulate water, and not only is it possible to breathe in it, you can actually swim in it.
That’s good for training in underwater combat, according to Cal.
Speaking of swimming, they’re also building a swimming pool outside, I’ve seen it, it’s almost finished. They’ve got water wings for fluffies and magical bracelets that let fluffies breathe underwater, so that won’t be an issue. Those things are made by the Unseen Union, the ChaotiX’s magical squad. They’ll probably give one to Electra if I ask.
And some of the fluffies in the ChaotiX can already breathe underwater.
There’s gonna be a pool party once it’s ready. Presumably, me and Electra will be on the guest list.
So it looks like my life will have a bunch of women in bikinis in it after all.
Man, did I pick the perfect time to join the team or what?
I should probably do some training in here too, work on my pool bod.
I’m not gonna be wearing the sweater then, I can assure you.
I’d look like the sad fat kid who doesn’t have the nerve to go shirtless at the pool.
But first, let’s see what Cal’s up to.
He focuses, his sword’s blade gleaming for a moment.
WOOSH
Then he spins on the spot, slicing the holographic Dehaks in half, their bisected bodies vanishing as their top halves hit the floor.
I glance at Electra.
“Feels good to watch that, doesn’t it?”
She nods.
“Ewectwa kinna wish dat we had popcownies wite nao.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Then I look at Marley.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, by the way.”
He looks back.
“Fiwe away, Jeff.”
I point at the gold ring on his front right leg.
“You’ve been wearing that since the Mask of Arachnus thing. What’s it for?”
Cal walks over, sheathing his sword.
“We didn’t get a chance to use it then. Mar, show 'em.”
Marley nods, and waddles away from us.
“Otay, otay. Jeff, Ewectwa, yu too pay atten-shun nao.”
He turns around to face us and grins.
Then there’s a sound like chicken nuggets in a blender as he turns human, his collar turning into an all-green battle suit.
It’s one of those Endo-Klyn Suits.
His hair is still red and yellow. And it still looks kinda like a fluffy mane.
The gold ring is now on his right wrist, and he turns it three times with his left hand.
BWING!
With a flash of golden light, it turns into a golden sword, which Marley grasps the hilt of.
“That am what it am for. Magic am great, huh?”
There’s something engraved on the blade. A fluffy wreathed in flames, leaving a trail of fire that loops around the blade, down to the hilt.
I look at Cal, pointing at the sword.
“Is that really gold? Because I thought that gold is magic-proof-- oh wait, it’s that chivalrium stuff, isn’t it? The magic metal that looks like gold, but only good people can use it?”
Cal nods with a smirk.
“Good to see that you’re remembering everything, Jeff.”
“I’ve been taking a lot of notes. So it is chivalrium, yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s chivalrium. Mel forged the sword, Des enchanted it to do… that. Now Mar can keep that sword on him, regardless of what form he’s in.”
“I see what you mean… a scabbard like yours would be too big in fluffy form.”
Electra waddles over.
“Dat am da metaw dat gib yu buwnies if yu am bad, wite?”
Marley nods.
“That am right, Electra. You saw the, uh…”
Cal chimes in.
“The initiation rite, Mar.”
“Thanks, daddy.”
Marley reverts to fluffy form, the battle suit turning back into a collar, the sword turning back into a ring.
“Wike Mawwey wuz say-in, yu saw da innish-ee-yay-shun wite.”
I stare at him.
“Still not used to that. But yeah, I didn’t exactly pass with full marks, but I didn’t fail the test either. I got a passing grade, but a C is still better than an F.”
In a nutshell, the test is that they tell you to touch an ingot of chivalrium, and if it starts burning you, you’re out. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. You are the weakest link, goodbye! You lose, good day sir! You get the point.
Cal said beforehand that they go by a rule of thumb: if someone abuses fluffies, they probably can’t use chivalrium. It makes for a handy litmus test.
A chivalrium weapon will just bounce off the average fluffy. Like the metal refuses to hurt someone as innocent as a fluffy.
Cal also claimed that I would have to touch the ingot with my junk, but quickly clarified that he was just kidding when he saw the look on my face. And the damp spot on the front of my jeans.
When I touched the ingot, it didn’t burn me, but I got the feeling that I probably wouldn’t be able to make the most of chivalrium weapons.
The metal felt cold. And I don’t just mean literally cold. I mean… emotionally cold too. Like it was giving me the cold shoulder.
It felt like the metal was silently judging me, and that it decided that, while I wasn’t the best person who could be holding it, I also wasn’t the worst.
Apparently, if someone can make the most of chivalrium, it feels pleasantly warm in their hands.
And if they’re truly evil, like Dehak evil, then it’ll feel a wee bit too warm, if you catch my drift.
I’ve been told that it’s not sentient, so how the hell can it even tell if someone is good or bad? Morality isn’t an objective thing, is it? Moral standards change over time!
Nana Robinson always went on about how things were when she was young! All kinds of things that were fine back then wouldn’t fly these days. The casual sexism and racism, for starters.
The old bat said that if she had one regret, it was that she was born too late to own slaves.
I don’t think she would have been able to use chivalrium. What would she do with it, make a walker?
But how the fuck does chivalrium work? How do you make it? And why does it look identical to gold?
Cal said that’s something the ChaotiX have been trying to figure out for a while. That Chival guy who invented chivalrium has been dead for a long time, it seems. And it’s likely that he took his secrets to the grave.
So yeah. I can touch the damn stuff, I can swing a sword made of it, but I can’t use it to its fullest potential, like the other ChaotiX members with chivalrium weapons can. I’d be better off using a normal sword, made of steel that doesn’t care if you’re Jesus Christ or Adolf Hitler.
There’s a book with rituals that can be used to unlock new abilities for chivalrium weapons, and, these are Cal’s exact words, that book’s been passed around the ChaotiX like a porn magazine in a treehouse.
I don’t think I’ll be needing that book for now.
Honestly, it was actually a relief. I was expecting the damn ingot to set me ablaze the second I touched it.
I guess I really have changed for the better since I met Chaos. What Cal said was true: I’ve been playing the role of a nice guy for so long that I’ve become nicer for real.
But it’s clear to me that I still need to work on improving myself.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll become so good that I can use a chivalrium sword properly.
I’m not there yet, mind you. Changing that much could take years.
I look at Cal, who is fiddling with his COMP.
“You gonna summon up another batch of Dehaks, Cal?”
“Nah. I’ve got a surprise for you, Jeff. I think you’ll like it.”
VZZT
Another holographic training dummy appears, but this one looks just like…
“Jaws? Is that Jaws?”
Cal nods.
“Yup! All we needed was a few photos of him as a reference. At the bare minimum.”
He gestures at Holo-Jaws, who is standing perfectly still, a blank look on his holographic face.
“You can have the first swing, if you want.”
I grin, clenching my fist as I walk over to the training dummy.
“Cal… it would be my pleasure.”
WHAM
I punch Holo-Jaws in the face, knocking him to the floor.
“Goddamn did that feel good! Woo! Thank you!”
Cal laughs.
“Ah, I knew you’d enjoy it. And that wasn’t a bad punch for an amateur, y’know.”
Marley nods again.
“Mebbeh yu du hab da poh-ten-shuw tu be a fite-ew, Jeff.”
I blush, because I’m not used to these guys giving me compliments.
“Well, I worked out a bit when me and Electra were staying at Faucheuse Hotel… and I’ve been in a few fights back in Detroit.”
I look at Electra, who is smiling up at me.
“Plus… I’ve got someone to protect now. It’s not just my ass on the line if Dehak shows up at my door. I think I might need to become a fighter.”
Then I sigh.
“But I don’t think I should be trusted with any real power.”
Electra gets closer, curling up around my foot in a comforting manner.
“Ewectwa fink yu am pwetty twust-wowf-ee, Jeff.”
I kneel down to stroke her.
“Thanks. It means a lot to hear you say that, Electra. I’m not sure if I’m gonna enroll at C.U., but Cal, do you think you could set me up with one of those power armors? Not an Omega Buster. That’s a bit too much for my liking.”
Cal scratches his chin thoughtfully. He shaved his beard off a couple of weeks ago.
“Well, I can see why you’d want a power armor specifically. It’s not an innate kind of power, like Phenomenon X or magic. It’s the kinda power you can put on or take off, like a coat.”
I stand up straight, grinning at Cal.
“Yeah, not everyone is lucky enough to trip and land in a gigantic pile of superpowers like you were. But I don’t wanna be like that. I might be a ChaotiX member now (fuck it’s weird to say that), but I still feel like Jeff Robinson, the average guy from Detroit. And I still feel like Ugly Sweater Guy too. It would be kinda messed up if I become Super-Jeff, the hero who has more powers than a French waiter has ways to tell someone that they have shit taste in wine.”
He laughs again.
“I get it, dude. I like to think that deep down, I’m still the deadbeat stoner I was on the day I decided to adopt Marley and Piccolo. I’m a bunch of other things on top of that now, but that part of me is still there. So it’s okay, Jeff, I completely understand where you’re coming from. There’s plenty of ways you can contribute without innate powers. We could get you some Power Gloves and Pegasus Boots, or a Stahlkörper 2.0, like Blueberry’s Blaukörper–”
“I don’t know how a fluffy can operate one of those things. I saw Blueberry steer that thing through the McDonald’s drive-thru the other day. I pulled in with Electra right behind him. Where did he even get the money for all of those McFlurries?!? He bought enough for his whole herd!”
“He’s smarter than the average fluffy, and Pierre donates the profits from his greenhouses to the Fluffy Cartel. Point is, we have all kinds of gadgets and weapons and stuff like that you could use to compensate for your lack of superhuman abilities.”
Marley nods a third time.
“An if yu nee tu spen sum time fig-yuw-win owt wut soots yu da bestest, we can du dat.”
“Yeah! Look, it might take you some time to find your groove, Jeff. But you can do this at whatever pace you want. If you wanna stay as a consultant for the time being, or if you wanna start working in the field, that’s up to you. We try-- I try to cater to every team member’s specific needs. We’re very diverse, some things aren’t one size fits all.”
I laugh, because by now, I’ve met enough of my fellow ChaotiX members (still weird) to know exactly how diverse the team is.
“You aren’t kidding. There’s X-Positives, wizards and witches, trolls, dwarves, little blue men, robots, half-demons and aliens from at least a dozen different planets, and one unfortunate bastard in an ugly sweater, and all of that is barely scratching the surface.”
Then I gesture at Marley.
“Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that at least a quarter of my new coworkers are fluffies. Fluffies with superpowers, yeah, but still fluffies.”
Marley smirks at me.
“In sum sitties, ab-yoo-suws gib fwuffies owwies. In dis sitty, fwuffies gib ab-yoo-suws owwies.”
I roll my eyes.
“Thank you, Yakov Smirfluff! Honestly, I’m surprised that Korkeaopolis still has abusers, with all of the ChaotiX’s fluffies here.”
Cal shrugs.
“You’ve seen how dumb, stubborn and spiteful some abusers can be. But not every fluffy team member operates here. Venom operates in San Francisco, but you already knew that.”
“Yeah, I haven’t forgotten that whole Carnage thing. Before you ask: hard pass on getting Klyntar’d up.”
It was already bad enough when I was starting to think that the sweater was secretly a Klyntar.
Sometimes I still have dreams about my night in San Francisco.
“Duly noted, Jeff. But then there’s Billy, also known as Vidunder, who operates in Tønsberg, and there’s Gaspode, our eyes and ears in Manhattan. Fair warning: when you meet Gaspode’s owners, don’t be alarmed when your sense of smell shuts down and the earwax starts melting out of your ears, that’s normal. One of those hobos has a stench with a power level, and I can sense power levels, so I know what I’m talking about. I once speculated that if he becomes any more pungent, that foul ol’ hobo’s stench will become a smelly Niv.”
“Wait, who’s Niv?”
Suddenly, Cal’s hair turns black as night, his skin turns deathly pale, his eyes turn blood red with black sclera, his teeth become sharp and yellow, and the lines of his battle suit turn solid blood red.
“I am. Heya, I’m Cal’s dark side. Nivlac Notniuq Aekrok, but you can call me Niv, EVERYONE does.”
Me and Electra both jump in fright.
“JESUS!!!”
“WUT DA FUK AM DAT ABOWT?!?”
Niv laughs, in a more immature way than Cal does.
“Hasn’t Cal told you two about me yet? I think he mentioned me when you left town. I first came out to play at Bran Castle… and then again on Primal Earth… the SHORT version is that I tried to take the wheel, Cal whooped my ass, we homies now. I’m dark, not EVIL. Like Batman.”
I find myself struggling to put the questions I have into words.
“But how did you-- when did you–”
Niv pats me on the head in a rather condescending way.
“Okay, Jeff, calm down. I know I LOOK a bit edgy, but I didn’t CHOOSE to look like this, alright?”
“So how did you…”
“It was during the whole Vulcanus thing. Cal told you what went down the night before Vegas burned down, I was listening when he brought you into the loop. I was expecting you to start screaming, kudos for taking it like a champ.”
“But you-- Cal didn’t go into specifics, there was a lot to cover.”
“We jus knu dat he wuz fite-in him bwuddah.”
“Okay, then let me just get to the point: that night, Cal downed an elixir of blood magic and draak essence–”
“Why.”
“Because he needed darkness powers to beat Vulcanus, and there aren’t any X-Positives with darkness powers he could copy. Anyway, that elixir reacted with the Klyntar codex left in Cal’s body when he briefly wielded that black sword Umbra had during the World Revolution, and because I’m the remnant of Cal’s brush with vampirism…”
He points at the pinprick scars on his-- or Cal’s neck.
“…and because vampirism is likewise a creation of blood magic and dark powers, the elixir ended up giving ME all of the dark juju, and…”
Then he does jazz hands.
“Ta-daaaaah~! Since then, me and Cal have been sharing the wheel, and since the whole thing with Vincal, we’ve even been able to SPLIT. I’ve been avoiding making an appearance to you so far because, well, look how you reacted when I took the wheel just now. You almost pissed yourself again, Jeffaroo. Jeff-fa-fa. Not gonna call ya Jeffy, that’s Jaws’ thing.”
Electra looks up at Niv.
“Yu am a bitsie… uh… diff-went fwom mistah Caw, mistah Niv.”
Niv shrugs.
“I’m basically the part of him that Freud called the id, and that Jung called the shadow. I’m what you’d get if you took Cal as a teenager and dialed him up to eleven. I’m him, but less inhibited.”
I shrewdly stroke my chin.
“So you’re like those Darksydes that the Seeds of Darkness turn people into. But without the evil.”
“Yup, kinda. Deedee absorbed one of those things, and it didn’t turn HIM into a Darksyde 'cause the fucker was pretty much already THERE.”
“Wait, who’s Deedee?”
“SCOTTY’S dark side, one of Dehak’s buddies we captured. He called himself the Dark Demon-- snrk-- and it RE-HE-HEALLY pissed him off when people called him Deedee. They split after they died in Nevada. But you won’t be seeing HIM around. Scotty reabsorbed him. Via the Merge-O-Matic.”
“Ah. Right. I haven’t seen that thing in action.”
“Cal said we’re not gonna use it again unless we HAVE to. I wanted to play around with it too, Jeff, but merging is DANGEROUS in the wrong hands, even I know that. Ask Mervin, he’ll tell you some Shaun stories. But I’m gonna give the wheel back to Cal now. Nice meeting you two.”
“Yeah, it was… interesting to meet you.”
“Wut Jeff sed.”
“I’ll tell Fi, Memories and MIKA you said hi. Take it from here, Maestro!”
“Who are–”
Just as suddenly, Cal goes back to normal.
“Sorry about that, Jeff. But you’re gonna have to get used to that, too. Just be glad Niv didn’t show you his tendrils.”
“Show us his what–”
“Anyway, I should probably get back to training. You and Electra gonna stick around?”
“Nah, we’re gonna head to Flufftopia, see if Kyle’s in, check out the new merchandise. Maybe I’ll apply to work there, once I’ve got my own place.”
“Lots of people in the ChaotiX have other jobs, Jeff.”
“Not you, though.”
“Technically, being a superhero is my job. All that ChaotiX merch? It’s gonna be putting my kids through college when they’re older.”
It’ll be a while until I see myself in the ChaotiX merch, but as a ChaotiX member, I do get my shit for free at Flufftopia now. The perks of Cal’s friendship with Pierre.
It’s not very useful while me and Electra are staying at the School, but I may have found a place to live.
Hey, I’ve had a lot of help.
Once me and Electra have our own place, I’m planning to adopt another fluffy, and she’ll be involved so we can make sure they’re a fluffy she can get along with.
She’s become fast friends with Bulma, Konba’s fluffy. They also have a lot in common, they’ll often hang out together while me and Konba are occupied with ChaotiX matters.
Apparently, Konba’s regular fluffysitter is the guy who taught him how to become a Super Saingan. The name escapes me, I’ll have to check my notes.
I pull my blipper out.
“After Flufftopia, I think we’ll grab a bite to eat at Sugarbean’s. And after that, we’ll come back here in case you need my expertise today, and if you don’t, we’ll go give away some toys to ferals again.”
I’ve still got some of those fluffy toys. I’ll probably restock on those while I’m at Flufftopia. With my new blipper, it won’t be hard getting everything back here.
I know why blippers aren’t sold to the public now: because the Abuse Syndicate reverse engineered them and… well, abused the technology to abuse fluffies.
I dodged a fucking nuke when I decided not to join the Syndicate like some of my ex-friends in Detroit did.
Now that I’ve got this gizmo, I think that me and Electra could escape if we ran into Dehak or one of his friends.
Shit, we could blip to Chicago, to get some more of that deep-dish pizza I love so much. I know a good place there.
But I think it’s better if we stick to blipping to places in Korkeaopolis.
Pizza isn’t worth the risk of running into Dehak, no matter how tasty it is. I’m not some rat that blindly follows the smell of cheese right into the mousetrap.
Word of my exploits in Korkeaopolis has spread across America, even to Hawaii and Alaska, and probably even further, what with the internet and all.
I did upload all kinds of stuff to FluffTube, and FluffBook.
With the sweater and/or Electra, I’m instantly recognisable as Ugly Sweater Guy, wherever I go.
And now I’m in the ChaotiX, and that’s not classified information. There was a piece about it in the news.
As well as a tabloid article, that has been framed and hung up with the others in the rec room. The illustration is of a comically large and beefy Cal towering menacingly over an equally comically short and scrawny me in an ugly sweater several sizes too big, the Cal caricature holding up a very big and thick sorry stick and saying “you’d better be on your best behavior!”
It was kinda funny.
Point is, if I started blipping to Chicago for pizza runs, Dehak could find out, and set a trap for me there.
People would talk. Any restaurant where a ChaotiX member eats regularly will become popular in no time.
My average, forgettable face is one of my best assets for staying off Dehak’s radar.
If I’m wearing the sweater, I’m Ugly Sweater Guy. If I slap the logo patch on, I’m Jeff Robinson, ChaotiX member.
(Still weird.)
But if I take the sweater off, I’m just another face in the crowd. With the right fake mustache or mole, people will fixate on that. I’ll be damn near invisible.
I’ve requested a disguise kit from Cal. Victor is putting it together for me, and both him and someone called… I think it was Merlom can teach me a few things about the art of disguise if needed.
But that won’t help if Dehak is spying on me with magic. Disguises don’t fool magic, certainly not scrying magic.
So I’ve also requested one of those scrying jammer things. That way, Dehak could only scry on me with a bit of my body, like a hair or something.
I’ve been told that’s called sympathetic magic, but Dehak doesn’t sound like the sympathetic type.
But I’ve lost my train of thought entirely. I’m too hungry to think about this stuff anymore. It’s lunch time.
“Alright, Electra, get aboard the Ugly Sweater Express, 'cause it’s about to leave the station.”
Electra places a hoof on my sneaker.
“Wen am Jeff gunna git a pow-taw gun?”
“That’s actually a very good question. When am I gonna get a portal gun?”
Cal smirks at me.
“You don’t really need to go any further than Mars to be a consultant. If you start working in the field, then we’ll talk about portal guns. For now, you can make do with the blipper, and the Tele-Ports. Besides, you yourself decided to come back here for your safety, and Electra’s safety. Until you can defend yourself from a superpowered threat, you guys are better off staying in town, close to us.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Hey, here’s an idea: a power armor with gold plating! That’ll protect me from magic, won’t it?”
Cal opens his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.
“That… that’s actually a fantastic idea. My X-Shield has a layer of gold plating.”
“Really? I can’t tell.”
“Oh yeah. It’s painted over so evil wizards don’t know. I had to get it redone after the Arachnus thing, asshole scratched the paint job. So we’d have to do the same if we use your idea. Y’know what, I’ll talk to Val after this. And if it works, which it probably will, I’ll make sure you get credit for the idea, Jeff.”
“I certainly hope I get credit for that! I’m surprised you guys haven’t already done it.”
“Hey, now I’m glad that you’re part of the team. You’ll be rewarded for this, Jeff. You might have just given us another weapon to use against Dehak.”
Marley nods one more time.
“Su if we can dee-feet Dehak wuns an fow aww, yu wiww git sum kweh-dit fow dat.”
“Maybe we should just design an… anti-Dehak armor. Equipped with a tank of Waters of Light… anti-magic rays… ooh, he’d never see that shit coming, Mar. And Jeff, maybe you’ll get one of those.”
I grin at him.
“Just promise me one thing, Cal.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t paint the torso to look like the sweater.”
“Heh. I won’t. Alright, have a good lunch, we’ll see you later.”
“I might bring back something to share.”
“Ewectwa hope dat we can fine a housie neaw Sugaw-beens. Den we can num dewe ev-wee bwite time.”
“…Electra.”
“Yus, Jeff?”
“What am I holding?”
“A bwippew?”
I give her a look.
“And what does a blipper do?”
Electra realizes how stupid what she just said is, and she cringes.
“Oh, wite. It nu weawwy mattuh whewe in da sitty we wib, we can stiww num dewe ev-wee bwite time.”
“Girl, we could be living in New Quezon City and we could do that. And New Quezon is in the Philippines. With this thing, the commute is a breeze.”
“Ewectwa keep fow-gittin dat we hab dat op-shun nao.”
“Me too. But we’ll get used to it. Cal, Marley, we’ll see you guys later.”
blip
I blip out with Electra.
Meanwhile, on the magical side of the universe, in the headquarters of the New Order of Darkness, Lord Dehak sits at his desk in his office, typing slowly on a typewriter, the ghost of Jaws hovering above a chair on the other side of the desk, his anchor placed on the chair.
takka… takka… takka…
It’s an old-fashioned manual typewriter, so it doesn’t need electricity. Typewriters haven’t been invented on Magicca yet, it was one of many objects acquired from Earth by Claude.
takka… takka… takka…
There’s a stack of finished pages on one side of the typewriter, next to the scroll of parchment Dehak was writing on before, with his trusty quill. It’s his favorite quill, made from the feather of a roc. He used to have another quill like that. Guess how he got the feathers.
takka… takka… takka…
On the other side of the typewriter, there’s a couple of packs of blank pages, and packs of typewriter ribbons, both also acquired from Earth.
takka… takka… takka… ding!
Dehak finishes another page, taking it out and putting it on the pile with the rest, and replacing it with a fresh sheet before he continues.
takka… takka… takka…
Being native to a world without typewriters and computers, Dehak was not very familiar with the process of typing, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that he’s a hunt and peck kind of guy.
takka… takka… takka…
He’s starting to regret not having one of his minions do the typing instead, but most of the New Order’s rank and file cannot read, write, understand or speak English, and Rings of Allspeak (or Omnitongue Rings as they’re called here) only translate spoken languages.
takka… takka takka…
Fortunately, Dehak has made a lot of progress learning English, and he’s quickly getting the hang of typing.
He stops typing, looking over the typewriter at Jaws.
“Alright, we’ve covered everything up to your encounter with Robinson and his shite-rodent in that alleyway. What happened after you stabbed him and took the shite-rodent?”
Jaws scowls, thinking very angry thoughts. In death, he has the clarity of thought he so sorely lacked in life, so he can remember every detail of the events leading up to his death perfectly.
“Well, I shoved the shitrat in the trunk of my car after putting a ball gag in its mouth, but just as I sat down in the driver’s seat, Chaos showed up in the back seat with Jeffy’s shitrat in his lap. Then the shitrat was gone, he was sitting right next to me, and he asked me if I wanted to play a game with him.”
Dehak starts typing again, faster this time.
takkatakkatakkatakkatakkatakka
“And did you agree?”
Jaws angrily shakes his head.
“FUCK NO!!! I told him to fuck off and give me the shitrat back, so he sent me to Mount Everest to cool off, and shoved the sweater on me. While it was still torn and bloodstained from me stabbing Jeffy, of course. He left me there for a few hours, and when he came back, he started talking about the rules of the game we’d be playing.”
“But you had made it clear that you didn’t want to play.”
takkatakkatakkatakkatakkatakka
Jaws nods empathetically.
“Damn right! I told him that I wasn’t gonna let him make me his bitch! Maybe Jeffy will bend over and pull his pants down whenever that clown says so, but that’s because he’s gone soft, hanging around with Korkea and his freak friends! I told Chaos as much!”
Dehak grins.
“And Chaos wasn’t pleased to hear it, was he?”
Jaws nods again, this time more meekly, remembering Chaos’ horrifying form.
“Nah, not really. But he told me that I was at the Point of No Return, and that if I really didn’t want to play, I didn’t have to.”
He points away from the desk.
“So he pointed, and made a door appear, and he pretty much tricked me into going through it and killing myself. He said that if I went through the door, I wouldn’t have to play the game, and I’d never see him again.”
Dehak grins harder.
“But he didn’t say that you’d still be alive, did he?”
Jaws folds his arms and narrows his eyes.
“He didn’t tell me that there wasn’t a floor on the other side. Well, there was… it was just… a long way below the door.”
takkatakkatakkatakkatakkatakka
“So you fell to your death, and went straight to Hell, I assume. And there you stayed until we summoned you to be our consultant.”
“Did you know that there’s a tenth circle of Hell now? Just for people who abuse shitrats. Ridiculous, right? The demons made me wear a pink shitrat costume the whole goddamn time. Even when they were feeding me to the snake, or throwing me in the washing machine after the snake crapped me out.”
takkatakkatakkatakkatakkatakka
“And why were they feeding you to a snake in the first place?”
“Because shitrats used to be sold as snake food on Earth. They’re big on irony Down There.”
takkatakkatakkatakkatakkatakka
“Yes, I am well aware of what happens in the Lower Planes. I haven’t worked so hard to avoid the Big Fire Below for no reason. And frankly, Mr. Humphries, there are far worse things than the horrors of Hell waiting for me beyond the veil of true death. That is why I chose to become a lich. You and I are alike in one way, you know.”
Dehak points at the photograph in the chair below Jaws.
“You need that pictograph to remain intact in order to stay in the living world, much like how I, as a lich, require a phylactery to remain immortal. As long as my phylactery survives, I will always return from death.”
“So where is your fillac-thingy? You don’t need to stay close to it, do you? Lucky bastard.”
“Ha! Only I know where my phylactery is now, and while I can get out of that place with ease, it would take power equivalent to the Lamp of Desire to get in.”
“In other words, you’d need one of those Scones of Octavo to get in.”
“Stones of Octavo, but yes. The point is, the boy will never lay his hands upon my phylactery again. He’ll never lay his eyes upon it again. He’ll never even know where to look.”
“Y’know, I never actually met Korkea when I was in his shithole of a city. Apparently, Chaos asked Korkea and his superhero buddies to back off so the clown could handle me himself.”
Dehak grits his rotten teeth.
“I’ve faced the boy twice by now, and the same goes for the Rider, and the Many. I think I underestimated the boy during our first encounter. That is a mistake I will not repeat. Nothing less than the power of the Stones of Octavo can crush the boy… and that power will be mine…”
Jaws raises a ghostly eyebrow.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Dehak.”
Dehak shoots a warning look at Jaws.
“Lord Dehak, as I have already reminded you.”
Jaws just laughs.
“You can’t do anything to me that’s worse than being tortured in Hell. I’ll call you whatever I want.”
Dehak is silent for a few seconds, a deceptively calm expression on his face.
Then he pulls his magic mirror out of his robe pocket, mutters a name at it, and speaks for a few seconds.
He puts the magic mirror away, and he waits.
A minute later, one of the New Order’s minions enters the office, clad in the black full-body uniform that renders him just another faceless goon.
“Lord Dehak! You need something, sir?”
Dehak idly points a hand at him.
“Yes, I need an example.”
“An example of what, my Lo–”
“Soul Steal.”
VWUMM
In a burst of black energy, the minion’s soul is sucked out of his body.
“ghk”
whump
As the minion’s empty, still living body falls to the floor, his soul is drawn towards Dehak’s hand, taking the form of a flickering ball of ghostly light.
Then Dehak shoves it into his mouth and swallows it.
gulp
He has, ah… learned a few tricks from his master.
He points his hand at the body on the floor.
“Wakk. Halperyn.”
The soulless shell dies, but then it gets back up.
Dehak gestures at the door.
“Go join the others. Wait for my next orders.”
The newly zombified minion obeys, and after it shambles out of the office, Dehak glares at the ghost of Jaws, who watched the whole thing in stunned silence.
“I hope that you got the point of that little display, Mr. Humphries. Otherwise, I just sacrificed a perfectly good minion for nothing. You are not a member of the Octovirate, you are our consultant. I summoned you from Hell to serve us. You will not speak to me as if we are equals. What I did to that minion is something that can just as easily be done to you. You don’t even have a physical body to get in the way, or to leave behind. You would simply… vanish without a trace. As if you never existed to begin with. So you would do well to remember your place in the New Order of Darkness, Mr. Humphries.”
Dehak points at the typewriter, and the stack of finished pages.
“Because the fastest way to acquire all of your knowledge about Robinson would be to simply absorb your soul. You should be grateful that I am willing to do this the slow way, but exhaust my patience, and I will change my mind. Do not attempt to provoke me again. You will most certainly regret it. I possess powers that are far beyond your ken, you deceased dimwit. You have just seen one of them. Would you like a further demonstration?”
Jaws slowly and timidly shakes his head.
“N-no, L-Lord Dehak…”
“Then treat me with the respect I’m entitled to. This has been your final warning. Now, I believe that you were going to ask me a question? Go ahead and ask it.”
“…Y… yeah… I was gonna ask… um… why do you call Korkea boy, De-- uh, Lord Dehak? I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s almost in his thirties.”
Dehak grins maliciously.
“But I am so much older than him. From my point of view, he’s practically a baby. A smelly, ill-mannered, disobedient baby, in need of a good hard spanking.”
Jaws hesitantly addresses the accidental innuendo.
“…Uh… Lord Dehak… was that supposed to sound dirty? Because it sounded kinda dirty.”
Dehak rolls his rotten eyes.
“Is that the only thing people from Earth think about? I have no interest in carnal matters. I have, as they say, bigger fish to fry. So, while I will derive a vast amount of pleasure from the boy’s inevitable suffering, none of that pleasure will be sexual. I merely want to beat the boy until he’s broken and begging for me to stop. Then I want to beat him some more.”
“Jeez, you really hate Korkea, even more than most of my pals back in Detroit do. What did Korkea do to piss you off so much, Lord Dehak?”
THUD
Dehak bangs on the desk with his fist.
“He humiliated me, is what! Twice, no less! Most people don’t even survive crossing me once! He ruined my perfect record! He denied me the Kingdom of Drakonia twice over! He destroyed my precious, and he’s keeping several people away from their rightful place in the Octovirate of Darkness, including Robinson! The boy has humiliated me too much, and for that, he must pay.”
Jaws smiles hopefully.
“Hey, uh… I told you the whole story of me and Jeffy, so… maybe you could tell me the whole story of you and Korkea? I’ve got time.”
Dehak finds himself chuckling.
“Well… fair’s fair, I suppose. I’d say it really started three hundred years ago… with my ill-fated duel against Auldryn…”
He narrows his eyes.
“Make no mistake, Auldryn. You’ll pay too, Brother…”
Jeff likes cal jeff likes cal