SAM16? - Mr. Adams' Guide to Practical Fluffs - Part 8 – Ep.2 (draft)

“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”

>Your scream reverberates high into the night, as you realize the reality of the body you are inhabiting in. You bring your claws to your face. You feel a softness, but it not the same as the softness of human flesh upon human cheek. This is the softness of a cats paw resting on the feathered face of a barn owl. You try to move your eyes but you realize you can’t. You then remember that owls, despite their larger eyes, cannot move them the way humans can. And, for you to look behind you, you have to twist your neck to see your behind.

>You give it a try. Unlike a human, this puffy griffin body allows you to completely twist your neck. Interesting. You feel something itchy in your back muscles. You try to move your shoulders, and that is when you start feeling a connection to the tertiary set of limbs that griffins have – wings. This means you can fly. Or can you? You’ve never flown before.

>You got so many questions you’re asking yourself as you are in this body. The first question, and the big question is why.
>And there’s only one answer: Prince.

>It just seems baffling. Prince didn’t seem to demonstrate the same reality-bending abilities that the Gowdie, Foxhoarder or Squeakyfriend fluffies could. The idea of a fluffy bending reality seemed mor common in the Type 2 fluffies. But you then remember that the Coalheart, despite being a Type 2 fluffy, wasn’t capable of beinding reality. Maybe it is different between fluffy breeds?

>Or maybe, only certain fluffies have these abilities? It only asks more questions. Does Sam’s other fluffies have abilities?
You’re trying to find Prince but he doesn’t seem to be around. You call out to him instinctively, trying to say “Prince, where are you?!!”

“HOOT! HOOT!”

>Great. You just forgot. You’re a griffin now.

>You spend a moment to think why Prince turned you into a griffin. And then you remembered, the dead mare. In the distance, you can hear the crack of lightning. Bits of the sky water fall from above, covering the fluff of the dead mare, and her charge, taking refuge underneath her corpse.

“M-mummah! Wan’ huggies!”

>As the rain falls, you take refuge under a nearby dumpster. Oblivious to his situation, the foal clings to his mother, desperately pleading for her return to life.

“Mummah hug! Pwomise be good fwuffy! Pwomise”

>Nearby, you see a plastic bag with some cupcakes in it, and a cupcake near the dead mare. Wagering a guess, the foal may have pleaded to a apsserby to provide food for his dead mother, not knowing any better.

“Fwuffy cowd! Tummy owies! N-nu wike scawy noises!”
>You want to cry. But despite your immense sadness, owls do not have tear ducts. Somehow, this trait was passed on to this puffy griffin body.

>You keep watching over the foal, as you wait for the rain to stop. You can sense why Prince changed you into this form. You do want him to change you back, but, for now, perhaps it is your job to try and protect this foal.

>After a forever, the rain finally subsides. Despite the onset of night, and possible lethargy, the foal keeps pleading to his mother.

“Hungwy.”

>You’re thinking right now. Prince wants you to protect this foal. I mean, why else would he change you into this form? But how? How would you protect this foal? Just stand watch over it, like a silent guardian? Can you bring it food? Sing mummah songs to it? Give it a nice home with toys and stuff?

“Mu-mumma,”
>the foal hiccups, the tears and mucus drenching the fluff on his face.

“Mu-“
>he says, before trailing off.

>He sees you. You, towering over him as a giant creature of the dark, with razor sharp claws, and a terrible beak, capable of slicing prey.

“Mu-mun,”
>squeals the foal, barely able to say the term that could describe you. In abject horror, he runs away from you.

>Godammit, you think. I’m trying to protect you. Don’t run away from me!

>You give chase. Obviously, the foal cannot understand. There is no way the foal can understand.
>He tries his utmost to escape you, but, and with one graceful leap with your legs, you leap in front of him. Placing your two paws on the ground, you shout ‘Stop it!”

“SKREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!”

>He is shaking with fear. But he is about to run a game. You try to touch him gently with your ‘hand’.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!”

>The foal screams, as blood trickles from a fresh wound delivered to his right eye socket.

>Aw fuck! You didn’t mean to do that! How could you even hurt this poor foal! But, what could you do?

>You stay, motionless. Crouching down, you watch the foal. The foal, fearing death, can only plead for the one thing he truly wants
“M-mu. Nee’ huggies. Nee’”

>He is still hiccuping. You hear a sound in the distance. With a quick twist of your head you see behind you. Nothing.

>You turn back. There is a small puddle of blood where the foal was. You see a smaller puddle in front of it, and another, until you see the limping figure of the foal, its hoof on its eye, feeling the greatest of pain.

>An immense guilt overcomes you. You didn’t mean to hit the foal, you only wanted him to not run away. Eyeing him from a distance, you see that the foal has crawled itself in a Chinese takeaway box, underneath one of the bins.

“Hoot.”

>Dammit Prince, where the fuck are you?

~

>A few hours have passed. The foal is still in the takeaway box. His crying has subsided, but he hasn’t fallen asleep. He seems aware of your presence but has not said anything. He seems afraid, but also seems resigned to his current fate.

>You wonder to yourself, what will you do now. Is this your fate, to be the guardian of this creature? How exactly could you protect it? Heck, how would you be able to find food for it? Would he even accept food from you, a predatory animal? You had heard of fluffies seeing other animals as friends, like Mutagen mare with the kitten, but it may not be the same with a foal who already sees you as a ‘munstah’.

>You head a footstep. A boot landing itself onto a puddle.

>You turn around.

>You see a man, wearing a gas mask, with green lenses, and completely hooded. He reminds you heavily of the Russian, and te stalkers from the world of the postfluff. However, the camouflage and getup did not resemble b that of those Russian stalkers. The Huner is holding a rifle, and has it aimed at you

“SKREE!!!!”

>You lunge at him. Maybe you were worried that he was coming for the foal. You remember that this reality had that NISC thing, and his individual could very well be one of their exterminators. Perhaps this hunter was here to finish the job.

Thwip!

>Before you can do anything, you can feel the dart impact on your skin. It feels like a hypodermic needle, but fired at you from a distance forcefully. You let one loud scream into the night, fighting off the pain.

>And then you feel the numbness. You can’t feel your paws. First the legs, then your sense of taste, and slowly, your vision.

>Against your will, the hunter carries you, and places you into a carrier of sorts. He approaches the takeaway box. Through the blurry vision, you can hear something

“…found an unchipped griff….. need… checked out.

Hey…. Still buying foals….. project?”

>And that’s the last thing you hear, before you enter a slumber.

~

>You’re in the darkness again. The void.

>Glimpses of brightness has allowed you to see the hunter carry you off into a laboratory of sorts. Near you is Prince, who had been caught recently, along with the foal. But the only sensation you can feel is numbness – whatever cocktail of chemicals was in that guys tranquilizer dart, its doing its job.

>For a brief moment, you glimpse a woman with purple hair. Or was it brown hair? You blinked your owl eyes, but the colour seem to switch from a purple hair with a magenta streak, to a dark and very natural brunette. One thing is definite, though, and that she is wearing glasses.

>She seems to be speaking to the hunter about something, but you don’t quite understand it. You’r enot sure if it’s the tranquilizer at work. Or its this the case where, being in an animal body that’s not your own, you lose your memory, and with it, your sense of identity? Can you remember how you got here.

>You have returned to the void, after a lab technican administered another shot into you. It doesn’t feel pain, but you can sense that they’re monitoring you.

>The void feels comfortable, but you think to yourself, how did this happen, how did it come to be this way? You mind travels back to a few days ago, when you were talking to Samuel Adams at the park.

>As you visualize, you can see yourself sitting on the park bench, on your family friend, Samuel Adams, with whom you’ve already been on a few adventures. You remember his clothes, the few wrinkles he has, his hair, which is a natural shade of blue, and his constant smile. A smile that fits his daring.

“Laddie.”

>You blink your eyes. You think this was your imagination, but something about it stops feeling like as though you’re imagining it. Sam is beside you but, its not the blurriness of imagination. It starts to feel real.

“Sam?”
>you feebly ask.

“Laddie, its me.”

>You got too many questions. You can only manage one.

“Am I dreaming?”
“Its not as simple as that. It seems to be that you’ve travelled to a different time, but through the mind.”

>Yeah, you’re not surprised.

“Yeah I get that. But Prince just turned me into a griffin.”

>Sam eyes flares up in incredulity. This is definitely not a figment of your imagination.

“This is going to be hard, and I don’t have much time, so, listen to me.
I need you to think of yourself as a human.”
“What do you mean?”
“You mentioned that you got turned into a griffin, right?”
“Yeah, and I’ve been hooting like an owl!”
“Okay, now try to pretend you’re a human.”
“But I am a human!”
“Yes, but you’re also now in the body of a griffin.”

?As he says this, he looks at his watch. Grabbing the watch by its rim, he starts to manipulate it. As he does so, you can hear a tiny sound saying “Sketti!”
“Just do it, think you’re a human!”
“Okay, what kind of human?”
“I don’t know. If you’re in a lab of something, think of one of the people you saw in the lab.”
“Okay…..”

>You start to think. You focus your mind on the lab technician. What would he be like? He most likely would be an intern working at this lab. Maybe a fresh graduate, with a degree in biological sciences. Of course, he wouldn’t have high level clearance, but this lab seemed to be a skeleton job, something set up to support the actions of NISC. Maybe you’re one of those people who is interested in the business of biotoys and wants to get in on product management.

“Hey, wake up.”

>Perhaps he could be interested in learning about fluffies? I mean, you had heard vague mention by the spectacled woman about revolutionizing the sale of flu-

“WAKE THE FUCK UP!!”

>You blink. You feel your digits. Hands. You have hands! Normal human hands! As the human skin on your fingers touch the soft flesh of your cheek, you can feel that semblance of humanity. You’re human again!
>Your vision is still blurry, and you still are trying to make sense of what you see around you. You seem to be waking up from a desk. As you slow bring yourself up away from the desk, you look carefully at your clothes. You’re wearing the lab technicians outfit. Looks like that thought process did work!

“I don’t understand how the hell you can sleep at a desk.”

>You instinctively move your body. The feel of your body moving to see the woman behind you alerts you to the fact that you are seated on a swivel chair. The woman addressing you was the bespectacled lady you met earlier as griffin. But something seems odd. For a moment, her hair seemed to be purple, with a magenta streak. As you rub your eyes to see clearly, it becomes a dark brown. However, when you blink your eyes, it becomes purple again.

“Why are you blinking so much? Jesus Christ, did you even sleep last night?”

>She’s not going to believe your story, especially since you have no idea who you’re supposed to be at the moment.

“I was looking at way too much porn last night,” you yawned.

>The woman looks at you with visible disgust.

“You’re fucking disgusting.
Anyway, listen. I need you to buy dinner. I’ll be working overtime.”

>Godammit, couldn’t you have thought of something better? Still, you have no idea how well you can keep the charade up. Well, at least she’s asking you to do something simple, not science related.

“You want the usual?”
“No, I want to try something different today. There’s a noodle bar I heard about that opened recently. I want you to go buy me some stir-fry takeaway from there.”

>Eagerly you get up. Even though you have no idea who you are exactly, or what you’re supposed to be doing, you're human now

“So, what is the address of this boodle bar?”

>The woman raises an eyebrow, as she notes “Its over at the Weyland Auto Arcology. The one next to the Tyrell Corporation pyramid.”
“Tyrell?”
“Yeah, Tyrell Corporation. My dude, do you need to go home early or something?”

>You get up from your chair and depart the office. It seems to be an office where the staff are busy tabulating the results, perhaps from various experiments. The exit to the office leads into a hallway of white. Nothing inconspicuous yet. Just a lot of scientists in labcoats and similar gear. Nothing unusual. A sign affixed to the ceiling indicated the nearest elevator. You follow the instructions, navigating your way through this maze within the building.

>After a while, the hallway leaves the laboratory and “science” areas of the building, and into the more administrative area. You can see a window. Looking out would give you a good sense of where you are currently.

>As you look out, you blink your eyes. You just saw a car fly past by the window.

>Alright, this is definitely not the Postfluff. In fact, this was the polar opposite of the Postfluff.

>As you look through the window, you see giant buildings, reaching out into the sky, teeming with windows, and giant screens dominating the cityscape. The most prominent advertisement is for a pill, which can be consume as a full meal, being advertised by a geisha. You recognize what city this is.

“This is Blade Runner,”
>you silently note to yourself. Or to be more precise, the Los Angeles of the Blade Runner movie.
>Its too incredulous but, after the world of Postfluff, this doesn’t seem to be a bit unbelievable. If anything, you remark at the idea you crossed into a world that existed only in fiction. But you only know the nature of the world you’re in – you’re not sure what building you are in exactly. You suspect its related to NISC, but it could be something else.

>You managed to make you way to the noodle bar. It took a while, and you had to keep asking directions, as well as looking for maps, but, thankfully, the distance was not that far. But there was something about this location that seemed familiar.
>Overhead, you can see a flying vehicle advertising the off-world colonies. Neon lights brighten the displays of the various shops on the ground level. Laughing at the incredulity of the situation, you wonder if Harrison Ford is going to turn up near you.

“Four. I want four.”

>Fucking hell. It is him. Harrison Ford.

>Well, not exactly. Its Rick Deckard in the flesh. He’s in front of you in the queue and received his noodles. He goes down to sit at one of the seats.
>While moving up the queue, you notice a man of mixed heritage move up to Deckard. Judging from the fedora, and the detective suit, you recognize the man as police officer Gaff. At this point in the movie, Gaff was going to arrest Deckard, as part of a larger scheme from the LAPD to get Deckard out of retirement as a “blade runner” and to hunt down the rogue Nexus-6 replicants. Seeing a scene from one of your favourite movies play out before you, you silently mouth the lines

“He say you brade runna.”
“He say you have fluffy.”

>You blink. Officer Gaff repeated himself to Deckard again.

“He say you have fluffy.”
“Well its not exactly mine..”

>Before you can hear the rest of the conversation, its already your turn. Trying your best, with the minimal Japanese you know, you order the takeaway soba. Carrying your takeout in the bag, you see Cain, carrying his bowl of noodles, and following Gaff into the police car. Just like in the movie. But the difference seemed to be about a fluffy. Maybe this was a world where the ownership and regulation of fluffies was a lot more controlled? It may explain why NISC existed. There’s too many questions. But there’s only one thing that’s certain.

You need to get back home.