Warning: spoilers for the Saingan Saga.
A week or so after the ChaotiX’s rescue mission to Vajarsi, Erwin sits down in his familiar examination room, ready for another day of treating sick and injured fluffies.
He notices a coffee stain on the lilac Foundation uniform he wears under his lab coat, and takes a spray bottle out of a closet.
spritz spritz
One quick spray removes the stain in seconds.
Erwin invented that stain remover himself too, and it’s a lifesaver around these parts.
Fluffies and stains are a package deal. A lot of the fluffies living at the Foundation are here because their owners didn’t realize just how messy owning a fluffy can be.
Gilda’s still taking a leave of absence, and Erwin, being in charge at this branch, has told her that she can take as much time off as she needs to mourn.
But she’s said that she’ll be coming back soon.
Because she’s discovered that helping fluffies actually makes her feel pretty good.
Erwin’s first patient of the day is brought in soon enough.
Void, bringing her kitsune fluffy Michael in for a routine check-up.
Void, real name Hiromi Tezuka, has recently ventured into the exciting world of gothic lolita fashion. She’s one of those people who thinks that everything looks good in black, and doesn’t think that white is so bad, either.
Erwin didn’t initially understand why Void chose that name for Michael, so she begrudgingly explained the joke.
Erwin had to go take a moment to groan hard at that one.
After Void opens the carrier and carefully lifts Michael out, she places him on the Stahlskanner.
ping!
Erwin smiles, stroking Michael’s three tails. Few can resist the urge to touch the fluffy tails, and Michael doesn’t mind, as long as they’re being gentle.
Which, of course, Erwin is.
“A clean bill of health again, Michael.”
“An nu mowe poopies dat nu wan come owt.”
Erwin chuckles.
“Well, we’ve got an excellent laxative here. So, Void. How’s your brother doing?”
“He’s doing alright. Not like he’ll be gone forever.”
Akira, Void’s older brother, is also on a leave of absence. From the ChaotiX, that is.
Akira and his fluffy, Wukong, decided to spend a few weeks on Vajarsi after the mission. The distant planet of fight-loving party animals just speaks to Akira, and he felt a strong need to learn more.
They’re currently staying with Hahmhokk, Reeba, Trota, and Xanitas, and, at the time of this story, Akira is getting fitted for his own armor in the traditional Vajarsi style. Hahmhokk is paying for it, and insisted that it is a gift.
You know what they say, folks.
When on Vajarsi…
“Mebbeh mummah an Mike-uw cud gu tu Vah-jaw-see tuu?”
Void emphatically shakes her head, her sleek black hair with one white stripe swinging to and fro.
“Neither of us has any powers, Mike. We wouldn’t last five minutes there.”
“I could always lend you my Stahlkörper. I barely use it these days. Well, except to go through the McDonald’s drive-thru. Blueberry gave me the idea. And my fluffies always like it when I give them a ride, maybe Michael would too.”
“I’ll think about it, Doc. But we’ve gotta get going, got some last-minute things to work on up on the Snowflake.”
Zephyr will soon be playing where no band has played before: on a space station.
Void is the only member of the band who doesn’t have superpowers.
“Gutta make suwe dey pikt aww da gween Emm-an-Emms owtta da boww.”
“…You know there’s a reason bands request that, Mike.”
After Void and Michael leave, Erwin gets his examination room ready for the next patient.
At the exact moment that the mechanical arms retract into the ceiling, Reggae and Mortis, elite zombies, bring in a mare who looks like she’s been used like a piñata. The Foundation’s resident Igor follows them inside, muttering angrily to himself.
“Give me five minuteth with the thod who did thith, I’ll give him an Eckthtreme Makeover…”
When Reggae and Mortis initially joined the ChaotiX, back when they didn’t know their true identities, Reggae wore a generic grey battle suit.
After recovering their memories of their lives as Reginald Schumacher and Bob, Reggae switched to a battle suit with rasta colors, green, red and yellow, with a Jamaican flag on the back.
He still wears his rasta hat with the battle suit. He’s rather fond of it. An easy way to piss Reggae off is to mess with his rasta hat.
Erwin gestures the two zombies towards the regeneration room, and puts the mare in a vat.
Reggae watches the vat fill with regeneration fluid, a breathing mask on the mare’s face.
“Too bad that stuff doesn’t work on us.”
Erwin shrugs.
“Well, it can’t resurrect the dead. But if you’re injured, you can always ask Des to cast Mortys on you.”
Just as positive energy spells like Bulan harm the undead, being anathema to the negative energy that animates the undead, negative energy spells heal them, and a one-hit kill spell like Mortys instead restores the undead to full… well, unhealth.
“Yu gutta point dewe, Ewwin.”
“Think I’ll thtitch hith fathe to hith arthe, that’th where it belongth…”
Erwin gives Igor a look.
“That’s not how we do it, Igor.”
“Yeth, Marthter.”
“Thank you. So what did you do with the Arschloch who did this, Reg?”
Reggae grins.
“He saw us coming with Hazy, and locked himself in the bathroom. I just ripped the door off its hinges and dragged him outside.”
“Da bas-tuwd stawted cwyin, tuu.”
“Yeah, he was like oh no, please don’t eat my brain!”
“Weggae jus sed dat it wuz nu wowf da eff-uwt.”
Reggae laughs.
“Even if we did eat brains, that moron’s brain wouldn’t have been much of a meal.”
“It am wike Chai-nees nummies: wen yu am dun, yu am hungwy again in an ow-wuh.”
Igor gives the two zombies a lopsided mischievous smile.
“I could alwayth put a bigger brain in that idiot’th head. Think I’ve got a couple of good brainth at home.”
Erwin raises an eyebrow.
“Do I want to know how you acquired those brains, Igor?”
“Trade thecret, Marthter.”
Reggae and Mortis depart, promising to check in again later.
Every ChaotiX member who makes that promise keeps it.
Igor leaves too, needing to check in on Jewel and her purple litter.
Prometheus is currently posted outside their room, chatting to Minerva, whose body is currently womanning the reception counter.
Minerva is skilled at multitasking.
The foals haven’t shown any signs of inheriting their father’s power of persuasion yet, but Erwin wants to be sure before adopting them out.
If they do develop that power, it would be most unfortunate for their new owners.
Erwin’s next patient is brought in, a brown and biscotti earthie filly with cadet blue eyes, freshly weaned, one of many raised by Del and Phyllis.
Deston’s writing a book about the fluffies living at this branch. It was originally just about Cleo and Julius, but so many of the fluffies living within these walls have interesting stories to tell.
“Wub nyu mummah. Peep.”
She’s a bit on the quiet side for a fluffy. Not much of a talker.
The woman adopting the foal, her bushy blonde hair in a ponytail, gives Erwin an uneasy look.
“I saw a weird guy giving off abuser vibes outside when I arrived, Doc.”
“I saw him too, he’s been there all morning. Probably trying to get some new playthings. But people like him are becoming more and more rare around these parts.”
The woman grins.
“Well, the city’s crawling with superheroes these days. Throw a rock, you’ll hit six. So that’s hardly a surprise.”
“Indeed. Don’t worry, he can’t actually get inside. The place is warded. Nobody with hostile intent towards our fluffy residents can get in. If he tries anything, we can stop him. Now let’s get you on here, sweetheart.”
Erwin carefully places the foal on the Stahlskanner.
ping!
“She’s healthy, you’re good to take her home. Del and Phyllis have raised a lot of happy, healthy foals together.”
“To be honest, I genuinely did not know that fluffies can be gay before I came here.”
“Well, they’re not the only ones. My good friend Rex has his own happy couple.”
“He’s a werewolf, isn’t he? I always thought it would be cool to be a werewolf.”
Erwin chuckles again.
“Well, I can’t stop you from asking him to bite you, but I also can’t guarantee that he’ll say yes. Einen Versuch ist es wert. So do you have a name for your foal yet?”
The woman nods.
“Whisper.”
Whisper and her new owner depart, and before Erwin can summon the mechanical arms to sterilise everything Whisper touched, it’s suddenly done for him.
And Chaos, in his milkman form, is suddenly standing in the examination room, carefully cradling a freshly pillowed stallion, who is currently sobbing.
“Huu… wan weggies back… huu…”
Chaos strokes the stallion with one hand. He doesn’t want to drop the stallion… so he won’t. Chaos could hold him with one finger and still not drop him.
Chaos addresses the stallion, not in his usual cheerful, flamboyant voice, but in a quieter, more soothing voice.
“It’s okay, buddy. My good pal Erwin here can give you your legs back.”
“Let’s get him in a vat, Chaos.”
Five minutes later, the stallion’s safely slumbering away in a vat, next to the mare brought in by Reggae and Mortis.
“What did you do to the guy who did this, Chaos?”
Chaos replies, sounding cheerful and flamboyant like always.
“Well, he took this poor guy’s legs, so I thought it was only fair that I take his legs, and his arms too. Left him lying there, in the forest he found this poor nameless dear in. And that’s really funny, considering what the asshole’s name is.”
“Now I have to ask: what is his name?”
Chaos grins.
“Matt.”
Erwin starts laughing.
Once Erwin’s stopped laughing, Chaos leaves.
He’s going back to the forest, to write the word “WELCOME” on Matt’s torso.
He’s going to write it with a cheese knife.
Then Chaos is taking Matt back to his domain, because he’s been looking for a new doormat anyway.
Loki ate something funny and puked on the old doormat, which Chaos doesn’t hold against Loki.
Erwin decides to take a break, heading to the local Starbucks.
Everyone working there knows Erwin by name, and as he walks in, the employees call to him in unison.
“Erwin!”
Erwin smiles bashfully.
“Hello, everyone. Just here for my usual.”
As he’s waiting for his coffee, he sees someone else walk in.
A tall, muscular man with spiky blond hair, dark orange skin, green and orange armor that looks like nightclub attire, and a brown monkey-like tail wrapped around his waist. He’s also wearing a universal translator on his ear, as he is still learning English.
His armor has a patch on it: an X in an octagon.
He’s got a fluffy with him, too. A turquoise on turquoise unicorn mare, with blue eyes.
“Konba? What are you doing here?”
“Learning about Earth, obviously. I’m gonna be working here, after all. I, ah, haven’t spent a lot of time here. You know what happened the last few times I came here, right?”
“Buwma knu, Buwma saw da big howe in daddeh.”
Erwin also knows. Alpha told Erwin about dragging Konba to a random portal by his hair, and Erwin was present when Scha and Duwen came to Earth.
Konba smiles.
“I come in peace, Erwin. We don’t really have this coffee stuff on Vajarsi. Us Saingans, ah, don’t usually drink anything that doesn’t have alcohol in it. But I thought I’d give coffee a try.”
“Well, you can put alcohol in coffee, and there’s also coffee liqueur, but they don’t serve any of that here.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind. I think I’ll start with something simple. They’ve got so many kinds of coffee. The chocolate was a big enough ordeal. Marley’s tip was good, though. Dark chocolate fits my palate much more.”
“Am yu gwad yu wissened tu Mawwey, daddeh?”
“Definitely, Bulma. You and him have more brains than I do.”
“Nu be su hawd awn yuself.”
“Thank you, Bulma.”
“You need any help ordering, Konba? They know me here, I’m here all the time.”
Konba nods, seeing all the different kinds of coffee on the menu. He can read Sainganese, but he’s still making progress reading English.
“I think I’m out of my depth, here.”