TopDownUnder

This was my art exchange gift for MetalRavioli!
More by TopDownUnder

COME ONE COME ALL!
SEE THE SPECTACLE OF THE WILD WEST
WITNESS THE MONSTROUS HORRORS OF THE AFRICAN CONTINENT
BASK IN THE WONDER OF EUROPE'S FINEST PERFORMERS
HERMAN FULLER'S CIRCUS OF THE DISQUIETING
ONE NIGHT ONLY
Santa Fe
$5 per ticket. Herman Fuller and his associates are not responsible for any injuries or casualties that may occur while visiting the Circus of the Disquieting.

That was where I first met that poor, poor bird. I'm not sure where Fuller had snatched him, but when I first laid my eyes on him, I could tell he had been with the Circus for a while. His misshapen wing, that sad look in his eyes, the way his feathers were all puffed up, the dried blood in his coat… It broke my heart just seeing him like that. It only got worse when Fuller told him to start his act. The poor thing refused and… God, I can still hear the cracks of the whip every time I close my eyes. When I left that day with my family, I knew what I had to do.
I went back to the menagerie and told 'em what I had seen. They looked just as horrified as I felt when I told 'em how that vulture screeched with each of Fuller's strikes. We set to work planning a break-out. Lyn and Benjamin stayed behind to prepare an enclosure for the bird while me and Barnett went back to the Circus. It was close to midnight when we got there. Those weird clowns they had were beginning to show people the exits. Barnett and I slinked behind the Big Top, planning to sit there and wait till the Circus cleared out. There were a couple of times here and there where we thought one of the Circus workers had seen us, but we managed to stay hidden for a while.
Once it was dark and quiet enough, Barnett and I snuck back out from behind the Big Top. I had seen where they stored their animals, so I started to lead Barnett that-a-way. It was weird seeing the Circus so empty, devoid of any visitors or workers. It was like the life was sucked out of it and we were just wandering around its corpse. It felt wrong.
We ran into some trouble once we got close to the cages they kept their critters in. We were just about to squeeze between some tents to get to 'em when I got this sick feeling in my chest. I looked behind us and on the other end of the grounds, I saw something rise up from the ground. It was a grey-ish looking man with long, dragging arms. He had a pointed nose the size of my grandpa's old canoe and was surely tall enough to look over the roof of my house. Barnett and I just stood there for a moment, staring in awe and terror at this sight. We only started moving when that horrible man turned to look in our direction, revealing his large, pitch-black eyes. Convinced that he had seen us, I pushed Barnett into a nearby tent and started running, hoping it would chase after me.
I remember just running and running and running for what felt like hours. I didn't even bother looking behind me to see if that thing was following me. Some workers had begun to come out of the tents and other buildings to see what was happening, probably alerted by that big scary thing. I didn't bother taking a look back at the workers, I just kept on running. And I did so until I ran headfirst into someone. It felt like I ran into a brick wall with how hard I hit the floor. After gathering myself, I looked up to see who it was and… You have to believe me on this one, alright? It was a pretty strong dude, really fancy black suit. You couldn't tell anything was wrong with him till you looked up at that face of his… I almost threw up when I saw him for the first time. His nose was upside down, his mouth was where his eyes should've been and his eyes where his mouth should've been. I felt bad for the poor man, imagine having to live your life seeing everything upside down… When he looked down at me, I felt like something had pierced my skull and was digging around my brain, uncovering my memories and reading all of my thoughts like I was an open catalog. I can still hear his deep, gravelly voice asking

"You're here for that bird?"

I remember just nodding for a bit, almost like I was scared to lie to the guy. He sighed and muttered something under his breath before grabbing my arm and lifting me up.

"I caught that friend of yours that you pushed into a tent. Looked into him and found out what you were planning. I'll take you to the bird. It's about time it gets a ticket out of this Hell."

He led me through the tents and set-ups, back to where I had left Barnett. He was standing there next to a woman Clown with bright purple makeup and long black hair. The Man with the Upside-Down Face said something to the Clown I didn't quite pick up on before gesturing for me to follow her. She led us through the cages and enclosures. Most of 'em didn't have any critters in them, but the critters that were there were a sight to see. There was a beautiful white horse with two little nubs on its back, a really shaggy dog, a cat that I swear was only half here, what looked like a cross between a bat and a lizard, and a big bird and long-looking fish arguing with one another. After a bit of walking, I saw it.
The vulture was in a cage far too small for its wingspan. The floor of the cage was littered with bird droppings and rotten food. The bars had bite and scratch marks in them. There was a large bottle of something next to the cage. The bottle had a long tube coming out of the top of it, which seemed to be funneling whatever liquid was inside of it to the bird's beak. The poor guy was lying fast asleep on the floor of the cage, his wings up against the walls and the mystery liquid dripping out of his beak. I noticed some still-wet blood on his body, from where Fuller had whipped him.

"Fuller's been feeding him with, uh… Clown Milk. To keep the poor thing sedated. When he gets mad or nervous, weird stuff starts to happen around him. Fuller keeps him drugged up so he won't get mad and turn one of our other attractions into a stool or something. He already sliced off the wings of our pegasus the last time he had an outburst."

The Clown told us to grab some rope and tie it around the bird's cage. We did so and started pulling him back the way we came. The other animals watched almost melancholically as we pulled their friend out of this Circus. I asked the Clown if we could take some of the other animals as well.

"Don't get me wrong, I'd love to get the rest of them out of here, but Manny and I are already risking enough by helping you get just one out of here. Don't worry, though, I'll work on finding the rest of them a home elsewhere."

I understood why we couldn't take the rest of the critters, but I still felt awful as we walked on. The Clown led us to a building I hadn't seen before - she called it the "Kaleidoscope", if that means anything to you - and helped us take the cage inside. The bird was still fast asleep from the milk he had been drinking prior, but he was starting to stir some.
The inside of the building held a circular room. On every part of the walls, taking up as much space as they could, were a series of Doors. The man I had seen before - the Clown said his name was Manny - was standing next to an open Door. I could hear faint carnival music coming from the Door, which opened up to a bright white nothing-ness. I could faintly see my menagerie through the white if I stared at it for long enough.

"This'll take you back to that sanctuary of yours. We'll do our best to make sure Fuller doesn't find out it's you two who took the bird."

I nodded and helped Barnett push the cage into the Door. Barnett followed after it. Before I left as well, I turned back to the Clown - Icky? I think that was her name… - and Manny and asked if the bird had a name.

"Fuller grabbed it from a guy down in Mexico. Fuller didn't bother naming it when we brought it to the Circus, but the vendor had called him Sombra."

I nodded and thanked him for his help. I took one last look at the room I was in, then headed into the Door.

He's been here at my menagerie for a while now. I guess he's adjusted alright to the move but… Something still feels off 'bout the bird. Like he still ain't too happy. Oh, before I forget, we found a new name for him. Lyn knew a Mexican who lived here from before the war we had with 'em. He told us that the bird's name, Sombra, translated to Shadow. We thought the name worked just fine, what with how shy he is.

We've never really had an animal of Shadow's size in the menagerie before, much less one that could fly. We just decided to use one of the ol' big sheds we used for the ostriches back when this was an ostrich farm and just keep him in there. We thought it plenty big enough for a critter of his size, and just hoped that he wouldn't try to break out or anything.

It took a bit for Shadow to wake up. I'd say it was a day or two before he did. That Clown Milk or whatever that clown lady called it sure must've been a strong thing if it could an animal of Shadow's size knocked out for that long. We knew when he was awake when he started screeching and hitting the shed's walls like he'd been shot. I was feeding some of Benjamin's horses at the moment, but I ran over real quick, scared one of those bobcats or pumas had gotten in there and was trying to make a meal out of that big bird. There was something real odd happening when I did get to the shed, way weirder than what had happened over at the Circus. I could've sworn the walls were almost moving, like waving back and forth. Like waves on a lake or something. When I went to open the door to it, I just went straight through it. I could see it and feel it, but I could walk right through it like there was nothing but thin air.

When I got in there, Shadow was trying to break out of the shed through an especially wavy wall. The damn buzzard had his head half out of a window, and with how he was struggling he seemed like he had gone and managed to get himself stuck. I didn't really know what to do to help the bird, so I just went behind him and started tugging on his back. After a bit of a struggle, I managed to pop him out of the window. We went tumbling back against the other wall. Shadow got back up real quick. He turned round to take a quick look at me before hiding behind some hay pile we had against one of the shed's corner. Poor thing was scared out of his mind, and the hay wasn't even big enough to hide him! I figured it was best to give it some space, so I backed out of the shed and left it at that. The shed's walls stopped wobbling as much when I started walking away. I decided to take that as a good sign.

I told the others that Shadow was awake and, I still don't know how she managed it to this day, but Lyn got in there and examined the bird. Turned out Shadow had broken his wing a couple of times when he was at the Circus. Wouldn't be surprised if that Fuller guy had something to do with it. She said she knew a guy - a shark-tight, think she said - over in Albuquerque or however you say it that could fix it. She said she could send for him, but that it'd probably take a week or so for him to get here. I figured that the wait was worth it to fix the poor bird's wings, so we sent Benjamin packing with the message in hand.

Asides from Shadow's broken wing, we thought the biggest struggle would be finding food to feed the bird. Turns out the general store in town was willing to sell us their spoiled meat for only a quarter a pound. We found out rather quickly that the hard part was actually feeding the damned thing. When I went in there with the food, which I planned to just drop on the floor and leave it at that, Shadow jumped out from behind the hay and pushed me down to the ground. He tore the rotten beef from my arms and hopped back on over to the hay pile. I swear that bird would've attacked me right then and there hadn't I had that meat. I ran out of there as quick as I could, more than happy to let the bird eat in peace.

I told Lyn and Barnett 'bout what had happened, and we figured that Shadow was just scared of people. That made a whole lotta sense, especially if you take that whole Circus thing into consideration. It's really sad when you think about it. This big and scary bird, scared of all people just 'cause of some carpetbagger yankee with a whip. I really hope I can get the bird to start liking people, if only so it can stop being all shy and stuff.

Benjamin came back yesterday from Albu-whatever with Lyn's associate - she told me he's a Sarkic, not a shark-tight. Sound the same to me, but alright. Said he could work his magic on Shadow, but that he'd need to be alone with him for a while. I had half a mind to refuse, wanting to look over and make sure nothing bad happened to the bird, but Lyn assured me he wouldn't harm Shadow in any way. I warned him I still had my rifle from the War Between the States before I let him do his thing. After 'bout an hour or so, he came back out looking pretty tired, saying that it was done. While Lyn showed him to our guest room, I went to go and check on Shadow. His wing looked as good as new, and I could swear that his eyes looked just a little brighter than they were before. He seemed pretty happy, flapping about the shed and looking all happy-like. But… I felt… sad for him. He had gotten his wing fixed and was finally out from that awful Circus, but he still wasn't really free, was he? We had him cooped up in this dingy ol' shed with not an awful lot of room to move or fly around. He seemed happy now, but… I dunno, I'm probably just rambling, aren't I?

Went to feed Shadow today and, surprisingly enough, the bird didn't try to pin me to the ground this time. He just grabbed the meat from my hands and went to go eat it on the other side of the shed. Speaking of which, he's started making a nest out of the hay we had in here. I've watched him do it, and I know this is gonna sound weird, but he doesn't actually grab the hay. He just kinda stares at it, and it starts to move on its own. A whole bunch of straws will come up into the air and start going around in a circle, like a tiny little tornado, before moving over to the nest and tying themselves into it.

It's all really sweet, but… there's still this sad look in his eyes. Like he's just making the best of what he's got. Sometimes, when I pass by his shed to bring food to the hogs, I'll spot him just staring out the window at the sky. It, uh, it really hurts my heart seeing him like that. I really wish we could just set him free, but I'm scared of what the folk around here would do if they saw a hugeass vulture just flying around like nothing. Knowing them, they'd probably get scared and shoot Shadow down… Really wouldn't want that to happen…

I was talking with the other three earlier this afternoon, and we all feel the same way about Shadow. He's been acting real strange as of late, almost like he's depressed or something. He doesn't get as excited as he use to when we bring him food, and he spends most of his time either staring out of his window at the sky or resting in his nest. It really hurts us seeing him like this, a whole lot. We talked about it for a bit before just kinda sitting there in silence. We all wanted to do something to help Shadow feel better, but… I mean, what could we do? We let him out here, the folks at Santa Fe would probably shoot him down and put him in a museum somewhere. Or Fuller might find him again. Or those Consortium guys might catch wind of him and send some of their folks to hunt him down for sport. I was about ready to break down right then and there when Barnett piped up.

"Why don't we take him back home?"

For a moment there, I thought he was talking about giving him back to Fuller, and I was 'bout ready to get up and slap him 'side the head, but then I started thinking 'bout it a bit more. That Manny guy, the one who helped us back at the Circus, mentioned something about getting the bird down in Mexico. Maybe that's where Shadow was from, down south of the Rio Grande. I mean, it made sense, what with his old name being Sombra and everything. Only issue was, Mexico was 'bout 500 miles south of the menagerie. We definitely couldn't take Shadow on a train down South, that'd probably spook the poor bird, and I doubt they'd like us bring something like a giant vulture onto a steamboat. We could go by the wagon trails, but I doubt we could find a wagon strong enough to carry him. That's when Benjamin finally said something for the first time that whole day.

"We put him on a raft and take him down the Rio Grande to Mexico. Like we use to do before steamboats. It'll take a while, but it's better than nothing."

"But who's gonna go with him?"

There was a really awkward, really long silence. Before any of us could say anything, one of the mules outside started baying. We got up and back to work, saving that talk for later.

Started building the raft this afternoon. Hardest part of it all was getting the lumber. You'd think this being the frontier and all we'd be drowning 'n it, but nah. We looked for some sturdy enough trees for a couple of hours and, when we couldn't find any, we just went over to Santa Fe to buy some from the mill.

While Barnett and Benjamin started cutting the lumber and all that, I went to go and pay Shadow a visit. While we were in town, I went ahead and bought him some meat. This time I thought it'd be nice to get the big bird some fresher meat. General store had a deal going on for fresh pork, and I just felt like it was something that'd be up Shadow's alley.

Went him into his shack to give him the meat, and I could've sworn that the damned bird was smiling right then and there. He got up from his little nest of hay in the corner and basically ran over to me, grabbing the meat from my hands and eating it on the spot. He seemed so damn happy, gobbling up that pork meat, it was like he hadn't eaten in ages! He sat there in the shed, just watching him while he ate.

I'm really gonna miss him, aren't I?

We finished the raft yesterday. It's big enough for Shadow, enough supplies to last a month or so, and one person. We still hadn't chosen who was gonna take the trip with the big bird, but it was getting dark, so it was probably best we waited until the morning. 'Least, that's that others were thinking.

I laid there in my bed for a bit, staring at the house's ceiling and waitin', waitin' to make sure the others were asleep. Barnett was always quick to wake up, so I 'specially needed to be sure he was sleepin'. Once I was sure of it, I slowly crept my way out of the room and out of the home. As I made my way to over to Shadow's shed, I turned round and took one last look at the homestead. I let myself take in the view for a bit, it'd probably be a while before I came back.

I opened the door to the shed, where Shadow was sleeping soundly on his little hay nest. I pulled the last of the meat from my pocket and tore a chunk off of it, throwing it at the vulture to wake the big bird up.

Once the big bird stirred and ate the pork I'd slung at him, I began luring him out to the raft. I chucked the pork onto the raft, and let him hop on himself. We had ropes to strap him down and make sure he wouldn't fly off, but I felt like he'd much rather enjoy the ride free and not stuck to the ground.

As I pushed the raft off the river's bank, I took one last look at home. I could see Lyn and Benjamin standing in one of the windows, watching as I left. I waved at 'em a couple of times before I was too far to see. Once I was sure the river had picked up the raft in its flow, I sat down next to Shadow and prepared myself for the long ride ahead of us.

I'll make sure to write home when I get there.

WANTED

Gaskell Observational Consortium
Gary Pebbler
For theft and harboring of dangerous animals
DEAD NOT ALIVE

COMPLETE WARRANT 6773 IMMEDIATELY. BRING PROOF OF TERMINATION BACK TO HQ.
NOTES:
I remember hearing tale of a Circus appearing overnight near a town down over the American border. I'd seen one of their posters back home in Richmond, for a big bird they were exhibiting. I went to the Circus, hoping to see the bird for myself, only to find that it had gone missing. I asked one of the circus workers - think he said his name was Motormouth? - and he said someone had snuck into their circus late one night and took the bird with them. A real shame, but I didn't see how it concerned me.

-Will Wettle

Those were the two things that came through telegram for one Elias Everest in Socorro, New Mexico. The postman had been a bit rude when he shoved the slips in Elias' hands, but he chose to ignore this insult this once. As he was leaving the post office, the burly employee shouted out to him.
"Got a package for you as well, Mr. Everest. Thought you might want to take it with you."
Elias turned around, one foot out the door, and took a gander at what was on the table.
There, wrinkled and dirtied was a brown European coat. He smiled, reading the note on it that read "FROM HQ. RETURN AFTER COMPLETION OF WARRANT 6773."

Elias rode alongside the Rio Grande, keeping about half a mile's distance between him and the river's water. His horse was galloping at full speed, not being given a single chance to slow down by Elias. At this rate, he was sure his horse was gonna bake with how much he was pushing him, but he needed to be there quickly. The information that HQ had given him indicated that Gary and his bird had left that barrel boarder's house on a little boat on the Rio Grande.
After riding for what could've very well been hours, he spotted it on the horizon. A mean raft flowing down the river's waters. He smiled, grabbing his horse's reins and directing him to go even faster than he already was. He checked the pockets of his coat, ensuring that the pistols he had brought hadn't fallen out. He found comfort in how the cold metal of their barrels felt in his hands.
As he got closer to the poorly-made raft, the arms began to come out of his coat.

Elias watched as the bullet tore through the tarp's fabric. If he focused on it, he swore he could hear the wet, gushing noise of it hitting his target. He spun the revolver's chamber as the horse got up next to the riverbank. From here, he could see the silhouette of the man he hit in the tarp. He frowned as he saw the man rise, gripping his right shoulder. A hit, but not a kill. He held out both of arms, which were followed by the six arms that emerged from the coat. All eight of the guns took aim at the man's figure and fired. The bullets tore through the tarp and hit their target. What was left of the tarp's fabric was painted bright red as Gary Pebbler fell to the raft's floor, clutching the holes in his body.
Elias' frown turned to a wide, wide grin as his extra arms retreated back into the coat, taking the revolvers with them. He grabbed the reins of his horse and, just as he was about to order it to turn around, he saw movement on the raft.

Shadow had been fast asleep during the whole encounter, full from the pork the man had used to get him on the raft. He was grateful for that pork. While he enjoyed the rotten meat he had been bringing him for a while, that pork had been on a whole 'nother level.
That last barrage of bullets, however, had woken him up. He felt a splash of something wet and cold on the tarp that was covering him.
As the vulture got up and shook off the tarp, the familiar smell of blood hit his cere.

'That has to be the biggest bird I've seen in all my born days,' thought Elias as he saw Shadow rise on the raft. He frantically pulled out the paper slips he got from the post office, checking for any mention about a big bird.
The note attached to the warrant managed a big bird being stolen from that Fuller Circus, but that's about it. He grumbled, crumbling up the paper and tossing it into the Rio Grande. He whipped out one revolver and pointed it at the bird, who was investigating what was left of Pebbler's sorry body. He aimed for the vulture's head and shot.
The bullet whistled through the air, flying straight for the vulture's brain, until it wasn't. It stopped a few centimeters away from the bird's skull, just hovering there in the air, until it began to contort and bend, folding in upon itself over and over before falling into the waters below.
Elias never knew a bird could look pissed before today.
The bird launched itself from the raft, the force of which threatened to capsize it. It flew up into the air, before looking down at Elias on his horse. A multitude of arms were emerging from the lawman's coat, all of them holding revolvers trained on Shadow. After what felt like hours, but was really only one long drawn-out moment, Shadow began a nosedive towards Elias, descending at a blindingly fast speed. At almost the same instance, Elias let loose his barrage of bullets. Some of the bullets that were let off sooner than the others blinked out of existence when they got close to Shadow, or were teleported to another part of the dusk sky. There was a bright flash of light when a majority of the bullets reached Shadow, and Elias felt a wave of heat pass over him as he felt the ground fall beneath him.
He felt a moment of buoyant bliss, as reality loosened around him, before he felt the full weight of a giant vulture hitting him.

It's been a couple of weeks now since the trip across the border. I'm still recovering from the bullets that went through my body, and Shadow…

If the blood on the page before this wasn't evidence enough, we got ambushed by someone on the Rio. I came to a lil while after that, and the raft had already drifted far down enough the Rio that I couldn't see who done it. If I had to, I'd place my bets on it being some nutjob from the Consortium. Guessing by the fact I was still alive, I just sorta assumed Shadow dealt with it on his ownsome. I'm smiling a bit now just thinking about it. Wonder if he did it just outta self-defense or for me.

It took the two of us a couple more days to make it across the border, and I spent most of that time just sitting there in my lil tarp, trying not to bleed out more than I already had. I felt really bad about it, almost like Shadow had to take care of me for the rest of the trip, when I was the one supposed to be doing that. I really do hope I made it up for him.

After we rode the Rio a bit into Mexico, I decided it'd be best to start heading south on foot. To my surprise, Shadow followed me without me even having to tell him to. Just hopped off the raft and went along with me like it was nothing. It took us a couple of days to reach the desert proper. I remember that the sun was starting to set, and the desert was starting to cool some, when I decided to finally get it done with.

I lead Shadow out from where I'd set up camp for the night, and just looked at him for a bit. After mustering up whatever courage I had in me, I pointed out to the desert sky and told him to go. I remember him looking at me with those big ol' eyes of his before looking at where I was pointing. I don't know if it's possible for a bird to look confused, but he sure as hell did. I frowned and told him to go again, a bit more forceful this time 'round. I gestured for him to start walking away, and he did, but when I began to make my way back to my lil camp, I found him following right behind me. I remember pushing him away from me, pointing out at the sky before telling him to leave again, almost shouting at him this time. I could see the hurt in the poor bird's eyes, but I knew I had to do this. For his own good. I picked up a couple of rocks and started hurling 'em at him, shouting and screaming at him to shoo, to go away. After a bit, it seemed like he finally got the message and started moving away from me. I can still remember that last look he gave me so vividly, like he was in front of me now, before he launched himself into the sky and flew off. I just stood there for a bit, watching him fly off, and I stood there for a bit longer too after I couldn't see him no more. I dropped the stones I had left in my hands and walked back to my makeshift camp. I never cried more than I did that night, and I don't think I'll ever top that night in my life.

Every time I seen a buzzard, vulture, eagle, or what have you flyin' overhead, I can't help but think of Shadow. It's hard not to tear up, but I try.

|| Save My Soul || Providence »


Critters crawling
Through the endless void
Webs unravel
Universe destroyed
Colors shifting
Our time is cracking
Memories gone
Cognition now lacking
S-R-As up
Technology shakes
Can we save it
As we note the stakes
The world smashes
We scramble to fix
Broken pieces
Our worlds intermix
Spiders and men
Working back to back
The ground breaking
All under attack
Trees made of gems
We walk into
It all starts to break
We do not fall through
Floating lands rise
As we scramble up
The islands crack
To stop their long fall
The spiders home
With the Foundation
Portals and tech
Our heroes station
Now as one group
Save the universe
Hold it as one
For better or worse

A gift for CelesteKara
With thanks to Uncle Nicolini.


MetalRavioli

Written by MetalRavioli.
Merry Art Exchange Zyn!
For more by me, go to my Author Page!

The creature had escaped.

However, unlike most prisoners, it did not want to run. It wanted revenge.
So it made its way across the floor. Slowly, and quietly, as not to draw attention to itself. If it was spotted, it would easily be recaptured. An element of surprise was needed.
It continued moving ever so slowly until it reached the base of its target's throne.
It climbed the stand of the chair. It could feel the tremors of the beast who sat upon it. The deep breaths shook the chair, as it climbed higher and higher until it reached the beast's leg. It was here that the creature had to be careful, as each step could alert the beast to its presence. So it made light steps, crawling up from the beast's leg to its abdomen, all the way up to its chest. It stopped and looked up.
It could see its face. The deadbeat eyes of the monster who had imprisoned it. A heartless being who watched the creature like a pet, day after day. The creature was furious. How could something be so evil, so vile, so cruel? It continued up the beast's body until it reached its neck. It readied its claws, aiming for the throat, ready to snatch the life from this horrid being.
Without hesitation, it struck.

*

"Ow!"
Researcher Riven Mercer felt a small pain in his neck. He grabbed at it and snatched whatever had just attacked him in his hands. He opened his palm to see Mark's praying mantis staring back at him.
"Mark, your bug is attacking me again!"
Dr. Mark Kiryu turned from his desk towards Riven, and let out a sigh of relief. "You found Mantis!" He rolled over in his swivel chair and carefully took his pet in his hands. "I've been looking everywhere for you! You scared me half to death!"
Mark carefully carried Mantis over to his desk, where he released her back into her small enclosure. The bug crawled onto a stick within the enclosure and became motionless. Watching the world around it from its "home" once again.
Riven turned towards Mark and raised an eyebrow. "How many pets do we have here now?"
Mark turned towards Riven, which then turned to him just spinning in his chair. "Well, there's Mantis, Crellan, Sebastian, and Remy. Currently debating whether or not I should add a budgie to our collection."
"A budgie? Like, the little bird?"
"Yeah, what do you think?"
"I think there are already too many critters here."
"So no to a budgie. Got it." Mark turned to his desk and began typing. After about a minute, he turned back towards Riven. "What about a hermit crab?"
"Mark, a hermit crab counts as a 'critter'."
"Yeah, but they don't need that much room! Just a twenty gallon tank for two of 'em."
"We already have a two hundred gallon tank for Remy!"
"Exactly! So what's twenty gallons more?"
Riven placed his hand on his face and rubbed his forehead. "You know, if you just fill this place up with animals, you're going to get in trouble."
"Untrue, actually. Nineteens Pet Policy allows 10 pets per level, and we're the only ones with pets here. So in theory, I could have at least six more dudes in here before I get in trouble."
"Mark, I think you have an obsession."
Mark smiled. "I most definitely do."
Just then, Agent Tai Yang Shen entered the office. He looked concerned, albeit calm and eager. He opened his mouth to talk, before being abruptly cut off by Mark.
"Shen! You're just in time. Do you think I should get a Budgie or a hermit cra-"
Shen cut him off. "We don't have time for that right now. They want you over in the processing chamber, they're bringing in an anomaly."
Mark stood up. "Wait- What? Why didn't anyone tell us? We always get at least a twelve hour notice before anything comes through here." Mark threw on his coat and grabbed his glasses.
Riven quickly got up and put on his coat. The two began to follow Shen as he explained the situation. "Well you would normally get a twelve hours notice, but some researcher just found this one upstairs not fifteen minutes ago."
The three left the office and made their way down the corridor, past the experimental rooms, and towards the processing chamber's observation room. Mark caught up to Shen's side. "Well, what is it? Is it dangerous? Because if it is, we're not the ones to process this thing."
"Well that's the thing, I don't know what it is. I was only told that security's bringing it down now and that you two need to be there." The three turned a corner and stopped in front of a door. Mark pulled out a card and swiped it through the door's module. He looked at Shen. "No one ever tells you anything, do they?"
Shen scoffed as the door opened. The three entered the empty observation room. Mark quickly opened the shutters to the processing chamber and got the speakers online. Riven and Shen followed Mark, and the three peered into the empty chamber. Riven looked to Shen. "Where is it?"
"Security said they should have it here within the next few minutes. All we do now is wait."
So they waited in silence.
That is until Mark asked a question.
"I never got to ask you that question, Shen. Do you think I should get a budgie or hermit crabs for the Lab?"
Shen looked towards Mark and raised an eyebrow. Don't we already have like, three hundred pets here?"
Riven threw his hands up in the air. "Exactly! We don't need any more pets here, four is enough!"
"Wait, four? I thought we had three, who's new?"
Mark looked at Shen. "Sebastian. He's a greenwing macaw I rescued a few months ago. He's very sweet."
"Well I mean, if you just got a bird then I'd suggest the hermit crabs."
Riven scoffed. "Don't support him! This is an unhealthy addiction!"
Mark scoffed back. "It is not unhealthy! Studies have shown that animals very effectively boost work morale!"
"But you have too many of them!"
"Says who?"
"Says me!"
The two were interrupted by the chamber's blaring alarms. The doors opened, and the grunts of security guards could be heard. The three watched as several guards pulled in a long, white, snake-like entity, the size of an anaconda into the chamber with nooses, its head buried underneath its body. The guards struggled against the creature, however eventually succeeded in dragging the creature's entire body into the chamber.
Once it was inside, the creature coiled up, and the guards left the chamber, the doors closing behind them.
Mark looked at Shen. "You're telling me they found that upstairs? It can barely fit inside this chamber!
Shen shrugged. Riven looked closer at the entity, and noticed… feathers, all over its body. He called Shen and Mark over and pointed out the feature to them.
Mark put on his glasses. "That's not something you see every day."
Shen looked at Mark. "You see a lot of things here you don't see every day, Mark."
"Yeah, but not a feathered noodle."
The creature quickly began to uncoil. It relaxed its body and lifted its head out from underneath itself. Mark, Shen, and Riven all raised an eyebrow as they viewed the long, white-feathered snake with the head of a duck stare them down.
"You're kidding me." Riven nudged Mark. "If you're gonna get a new pet, get him."
The creature quacked. As it did, it shrunk to the size of a corn snake.
Mark's face quickly turned to a smile, and he squealed. "Oh my god, he's so cute! Shen, are you seeing this guy!? Look at his beak! He can shrink himself! That's so cute!"
Shen smiled. "He is pretty cute."
Mark squealed again. He had an Idea.

*

Mark sat at his desk and opened his laptop. He began typing away, as usual. Soon after, he heard Riven come in behind him. Soon after that, he heard Riven groan.
"You're kidding me. You didn't."
Mark got up and walked over to Riven's desk. Atop it sat a 60 gallon tank. Inside that tank, was a friend.
"Mark, how the hell did you get this approved."
Mark smiled. "His name is Snuck."
"For fucks sake."


The Jailors tossed away their keys and set their wards free
When the brass played.
The Bookburners extinguished their lights and left without a fight
When the brass played.
The Brokers melted down their coins, estranged loved ones they joined
When the brass played.
The Mekhanites wound their springs down, their connection with WAN redound
When the brass played.
Frequencies switched off, Vikander-Kneed and Westhead blown away by the quaff
When the brass played.
The Watchers left their site, no longer caring about being proven right
When the brass played.
The Pugilists put down their gloves, their pointless crusade away they shoved
When the brass played.
The Librarians closed their books, to the next adventure they looked
When the brass played.
The Circus gave a last bow to their biggest crowd
When the brass played.
The Evasive Man tipped his hat, and that was that
When the brass played.
The Fae left their forest, an ancient song of peace chorused
When the brass played.
The Queen declared checkmate, not a second too late
When the brass played.
The Zookeeper's life work complete, they drifted off to sleep
When the brass played.
And no one gave a fuss, when the world turned to rust
because the brass played.


"Happy Yuletide!~"

This tale was for the 2021 Gift Exchange! DrWhitney was able to guess via their own research. U>w<U
I hope y'all have a happy Yuletide!~

Image Credit
myself, at a real life applebees

▸ More by this Author ◂

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F.A.Q.

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Office Christmas parties have an odd reputation. They're often portrayed as some of the wildest events you could attend. Spiked eggnog, Nancy from Accounting's nudes being leaked across company servers, extremely tacky Christmas sweaters with suggestive themes.
This is laughably fake.
These are the people you work with. Anyone who so much as misused a copier to spread pictures of their asscheeks would be suspended almost instantly. They're boring, dry, over-glorified company meetings with small amounts of alcohol, at best. The existence of scary magic things that go bump in the night doesn't change that.
The only thing different is that this time, Dr. Maya Whitney was organizing it for her department of the Ethics Committee.
The Foundation-sanctioned dinosaur sat at her desk, her reptilian claws tapping away as she looks at the draft on her computer.

Request for approximately 20 people:
Eggnog (alcoholic)
Cookies
Giant Jenga?
… Music?

The more she planned, the more it felt like a depressing obligation. Likewise, it made Dr. Whitney feel like there were a thousand more important things she could be doing with her time. She needed to stretch her legs; maybe it'd feel better if she got up for something to eat.
Stepping out of her office for some half-decent jerky, she bumped into Mr. Digby; technically one of her bosses, but not high enough to where she had to kiss ass.
"Hey Maya, you handling the Christmas party well?" He asked, more out of concern than anything.
"I'm… trying. I don't know the first thing about organizing a party, and I feel like there are better uses of my time." She confessed.
"Hm… Well, I guess I could do it if you want. Gives me an excuse to stay here." He shrugs.
"You leaving?"
"Mhm. For an assignment in Vegas. Catch is, if I'm gonna cover you, I'd need to find someone to cover for me." Digby chuckles, holding up a file.
Dr. Whitney rolls her eyes. "Of course… What is it?"
"Shit you're actually good at; getting info out of people. Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't been in Vegas before, the site there's got a bunch of anomalously affected staff. You'd fit right in."
"Hm… What happened? What information would I be getting?"
"Alotta vandalism. Some woman in a mask and rabbit cosplay walked in one of our casino fronts with a sledgehammer, and destroyed all of the machines there along with the money inside them. Also, a lot of art pieces. We had a room designed by Damien Hirst that brought in a lot of rich clients, and everything there's busted. Hard to tell right now, but we're looking at almost a hundred million in projected losses. We just wanna know why they did it."
"Any injuries? Deaths?" Whitney asked.
"None, thankfully. She seemed to be there to just break things."
The dinosaur sighs in relief. "That's good, at least. Hm… How was it allowed to get this bad? She should've been stopped at the gates, right?"
"Apparently the alarms were faulty, and she had some kinda signal jammer."
"Alright, fine, I'll cover you."
"Thanks, Whit. Christmas party'll go great, I promise."
"I'm sure it will… One more thing. Why are they bringing in outside staff for this?"
Digby simply shrugged. "She's been silent with all of their staff. Maybe they need an outsider's perspective."

Interviewed: POI-7665
Interviewer: Dr. Maya Whitney
<Begin Log>
<Dr. Whitney enters the room, upon which, there's an immediate reaction to Dr. Whitney. POI-7665 seems surprised at Dr. Whitney's entrance.>
Dr. Whitney: Well, that didn't last long.
POI-7665: <Silence> I'll admit, you reminded me of Barney the Dinosaur. He uh… was kinda a terror for me as a kid. Sorry 'bout that.
Dr. Whitney: Well, that's nice. Now that you're in a talkative mood, I'm going to ask you a few questions.
(Dr. Whitney adjusts her nametag so POI-7665 can see it clearly)
POI-7665: I am not answering anything without my lawyer present.
Dr. Whitney: <Silence> You're joking, right?
POI-7665: Yeah yeah, I know ya'll use human rights as toilet paper. Seriously though, you can ask.
Dr. Whitney: Very well. Could I have your name?
POI-7665: Nope. Sorry, I haven't entirely eliminated the possibility you're fey, and I only just got my name back.
Dr. Whitney: <Silence> I still can't tell if you're joking.
POI-7665: Eh, somewhat. You'll figure my name out eventually, I promise.
Dr. Whitney: <Sighs> This is getting nowhere… Okay, let's try something else. Why did you destroy Foundation property?
POI-7665: You… can't put that together yourself? I had to've set you back one or two hundred million.
Dr. Whitney: So, you planned to just cause property damage?
POI-7665: Mhm. And no one was hurt. I call that a win.
Dr. Whitney: And how's that "win" going for you? You're going to be locked up for quite a while. Why would you even do this?
POI-7665: It's going pretty well, actually! Hell, I enjoyed myself. Have you ever taken a sledge to a slot machine? Cathartic.
Dr. Whitney: <Inhales> Listen, my patience is running thin. Are you going to tell us anything about why you did this, or is this going to have to get ugly?
POI-7665: Maybe I just really hate Damien Hirst.
(Dr. Whitney, at this point, snarls at POI-7665)
POI-7665: <Chuckles> I said you were scary when I was a kid. That was eons ago… Seriously though, that wasn't a lie. I do genuinely hate Hirst. He's gotta be one of the most successful money launderers in the art world. I mean, seriously, he made a polka dot, prescription drug-themed hotel room, filled the counters with medical waste, and made it cost a hundred thousand a night. I wish I destroyed that one.
… How about I ask you a few questions instead? I mean, the chance that a dumb bimbo like me will slip up and reveal too much about myself is non-zero, right?
Dr. Whitney: <Pause> Fine.
POI-7665: Why the Foundation?
Dr. Whitney: It pays well, and there are good benefits.
POI-7665: Implying that if someone paid better, you would work for them?
Dr. Whitney: <Silence> No.
POI-7665: Then you're not doing it for the money.
Dr. Whitney: Are you calling me a liar?
POI-7665: Hm… Nah, I think you were being honest with me, just not with yourself. That must mean you believe in its mission, then? Putting people like you and me in a cage is good for the rest of society?
Dr. Whitney: … Sure.
POI-7665: … Okay, that was definitely a lie. I don't even think the Foundation believes that. I mean, I'm no mind reader, but I feel more like you're doing it because you feel you have to. I mean, it's definitely not because you like the cause.
Dr. Whitney: Well, I'm certainly not like you. You're just some kind of lop-eared thug.
POI-7665: Ow, harsh. Didn't mean to offend ya, Whitney. I get we're different, but geez, that doesn't mean we can't get along.
Dr. Whitney: … I don't think that's going to happen.
POI-7665: Oh? Why not?
Dr. Whitney: You destroyed over 100 million dollars in Foundation assets and revenue.
(POI-7665 leans down, and pulls out a 100 dollar bill from its pocket. She proceeds to tear it into pieces)
POI-7665: It's paper, Whit. It's just paper. It means nothing. There's no such thing as a budget when you can just pull numbers out of your ass.
Dr. Whitney: So this is just terrorism, then?
POI-7665: Ow, again, harsh… I feel calling vandalism "terrorism" devalues actual terrorism, but if you say so… Actually, no. There was one other reason.
Dr. Whitney: Please, enlighten me.
POI-7665: Money's a good distraction. Y'all diverted so much manpower into stopping lil' old me, you had to hold off on raiding a few friends of mine.
Dr. Whitney: <Pauses> Oh.
POI-7665: Yep. I think by now it won't matter, time's already been bought.
Dr. Whitney: Well, I suppose you think you're very clever. Regardless, now you're here with us.
POI-7665: Seems that way for now! While I'm here, any juicy gossip?
Dr. Whitney: No. It seems that we were wasting our time. Unless you have anything else useful to say, I think we're done here.
POI-7665: Hmm… Actually yeah, think I'm done. Once this whole thing is over and I'm inevitably out, look me up. You're pretty cool for a narc.
Dr. Whitney: You seem confident that you'll be able to leave. Assuming that even happens, how would I even contact you?
POI-7665: You'll figure it out.
<End Log>
Closing Statement: POI-7655 proclaimed to have gotten bored one hour after this interview and proceeded to kick the door down off its hinges, which were later discovered to have been faulty. POI-7655 then proceeded to retrieve its sledgehammer from a Secure Storage Locker that was unintentionally left unlocked, and proceeded to walk out of Foundation custody with a stolen vehicle.
Attempts to subdue POI-7665 were met with varying degrees of failure. Guard weapons jammed and attempts to physically restrain POI-7665 failed due to improper footing and/or footwear by the guard team, causing them to trip before reaching POI-7665. POI-7665 then proceeded to choose the only vehicle on-site without a leaking and empty gas tank, flat tire, and/or dysfunctional radiator. The car POI-7665 did take, whose GPS monitoring system failed to activate. The driver, who left the car door unlocked and the keys in the ignition, did not intend to stay in the parking garage for less than two minutes at the time.
Due to the sheer amount of coincidences, it's expected that POI-7665 possesses some form of probability-based reality-bending. Mobilization was not possible until POI-7665's location became unknown.

As soon as Dr. Whitney arrived in Vegas, she was leaving it; with distinctly less pride than before. That feeling was always par for the course when it comes to that city, but the execution was probably a new one. To Whitney's knowledge, no one heard of what happened in Vegas just yet, so at least she could pretend that the POI didn't walk out of the facility.
The more Dr. Whitney thought about her, the more weird the POI was. The animal mask with heart-eyes, the lopped rabbit ears, the black, clawed hands. And yet, that woman acted so… Cavalier. Maya couldn't put a finger on it, but their conversation stuck with her.
Not that it mattered, now; Whitney just wanted to go to bed, but she had to put on a face just a bit longer for the Christmas Party… Which was being held at the on-site Applebees.
Given the fact that some members of personnel couldn't leave Sites for days at a time, creature comforts sometimes needed to come to the Sites. Years of corporate espionage, observation of locations in the field, and almost a decade of gastronomic research had allowed the Foundation to mimic chain restaurants within their Sites. Most commonly, this was something simple, such as a Dairy Queen or a McDonalds; Whitney wasn't sure if she felt lucky or unlucky that her Site held one of only three Foundation-run Applebees.
Honestly, it wasn't the restaurant Whitney would have picked, but she was almost jealous that she didn't think of moving the problem someplace else as Digby did.
She wasn't the first to arrive. Actually, this was the one time she didn't mind being late. Seeing her co-workers chatting pleasantly while enjoying fruity cocktails was the first bit of "normal" Maya's seen today.
"Heya Whitney." Digby greeted her as she took a chair. "How was Vegas?"
"I… don't wanna talk about it. We found out why she did it, mostly, but there was a containment breach. She escaped." Whitney confessed.
"Ouch. Well, it wasn't your job to hold her, so it's not on you."
"That's true." She sighs. At least none of the blame was being placed on her shoulders. "Let's just have a drink and forget about it."
"Sounds like a plan. Waitress?" Digby called out.
As soon as the waitress turned around, Whitney's heart sank. It was her. The mask-wearing bunny dumbass from Vegas. "Good evening!! Would you like to order?"
"We would! How are those Cheetos cheese bites?" Digby asked, not really looking up from the menu as Whitney lost the words in her mouth.
"I've been told to promote them since they're a limited-time offer, but… honestly, I tried them a week ago. It was the oiliest thing I've ever eaten. So much so, I immediately got sick after. I saw god as I was hunched over that toilet. His name was Chester Cheeta, and he was not a merciful god… In hindsight, maybe I should have taken the fact it has 1800 calories as a warning, instead of having that be my only meal for the day."
"Sounds good, I'll have one. The Flaming hot kind." Digby says, not having listened to the diatribe at all.
The heart-eyed mask wearer nodded, apparently having anticipated that. "Of… course you will. And you, ma'am?… Oh, hey, Dr. Whitney! You know, I never got to say goodbye before I left. How are you? Looks like you're doing pretty good!"
"How… how the fuck are you here?" Whitney asked, the spines on her head rising.
"Okay, you got me, I wanted to wish you a Happy Yuletide!~ Hail Sol Invictus, too!~"
"I… You traveled hundreds of miles…" Maya inhaled.
"Uh-huh."
"in a stolen vehicle…"
"Mhm."
"somehow found the site I work at…"
"Lucky guess, on my part."
"after costing my workplace a hundred million dollars…"
"I still don't understand why you're attached to this place."
"to then impersonate an Applebee's waitress…"
"Wouldn't be the first time I've been kicked out of an Applebees.
"… just to wish me a happy Yuletide?…"
"Yes, that about sums it up. I kinda just got the impression that you needed it."
Dr. Whitney had no words. This person must've been so privileged from her own anomaly that her self-preservation instincts became something vestigial in nature. And yet, what she did was the purest, albeit dumbest, gesture she's seen over the holidays. "I… thanks."
The masked woman nods. "Don't mention it… anyway, a real waitress will be here soon. You probably wanna arrest me again, I assume?"
"Yep." Mr. Digby answered for Maya, having called the guards a while ago at this point.
"Well then, I'll get out of your lack-of-hair. Take care! Have fun with the war crimes, everyone!" She said, before casually walking out of the Applebees. Dr. Whitney rose to stop the woman, but Digby stopped her.
"Let the guards handle her, that's not in your job description," Digby advised.
The doctor knew he was right. Furthermore, she knew that the woman wouldn't be captured at all. And if she did, then it wouldn't be long before she "got bored" and left. But that was probably for the best since she's a legitimate agent of chaos.
The Christmas party ended early after that. Answering questions for security tends to bring the mood down a bit. Instead, everyone ended up taking a steak home and not having to deal with co-workers. Thus, Whitney was left to do whatever she wanted with whoever she wanted to do it with.
Which meant that, in her own way, POI-7665 gave Dr. Maya Whitney the best Christmas gift of all.

Happy Yuletide!~


"No."
About 40 kilometers from an IKEA, two selachian pugilists hide in a bush. One is looking at the IKEA using binoculars, the other looks like xey is willing to do anything but go there. On the dirt is a printed picture of a website advertising a sale for a selachian plushie.
"They sell selachians there, Al."
"Still no."
"We can use them as training equipment."
"I just went to IKEA. They don't have sharks on sale. Besides, are our laser robot sharks not enough for training?"
"That's because the sale literally popped up last minute on their website. The robot selachians also have a bad habit of mauling the fists of our trainees."
"It's how they learn, Karina.", Altair remarks. "We need them to develop better pugilist techniques and I don't think a soft plush toy will help them out here."
"Shut up and just let me observe the people."
As Karina zooms in on the entrance of the IKEA, she sees a bunch of people going out of it with carts full of the advertised selachian plushie. Remembering her selachiohazard training, she turns on her Selachian Pugilist's Censorship Engine Goggles1. Immediately the various selachian plushies are censored into a dark blue blur, protecting Karina from the influence of the Selachians.
"We have to investigate this IKEA, Al. They are definitely up to something."
"God, I don't know why they let the new pugilists choose their missions nowadays." Altair sighs. "When I was a new recruit I got assigned to take down 20 selachians in the mesopelagic zone."
"Hey, I'm not new! This is just my first mission on the field. C'mon, start walking — we might miss out on the sale!", Karina shouts as she runs towards the IKEA.
"Hey, I have an idea. Why don't I go in first, get the plushie for you, and then we get out of this blasted place?" Altair pants as xey try not to collapse on the parking lot."
"As your junior I am responsible for any injuries you might sustain from going inside this dangerous place. I shall be the fir—"
"Fine, fine. You go ahead, I'll just take a bathroom break."
As the cool air of the IKEA hit her face, she can't help but feel a tad bit out of place. Maybe it was the fact that Karina is wearing full Pugilist gear with an ASM-DT amphibious rifle, combat swimming boots, and anti-Selachian spray on her hips with her Selachian Pugilist's Censorship Engine Goggles firmly fitted on her face. Or maybe it was the fact that Altair comes back drinking a Definitely Not Starbucks triple latte with caramel on top while wearing some flip-flops, beach shorts, and a very thin T-shirt that was obviously taken from the bottom of the drawer. Whatever it was, Karina just stuffed it in and remembers her mission: get the hazard, buy the hazard, and figure out how it makes people predisposed to Selachian ideas.

"Um, excuse me sir. Where are the selachian deviants that you are keeping here."
The IKEA clerk blankly stares at the two people currently in front of him. It was almost lunchtime, he was getting hungrier due to the smell of IKEA meatballs wafting across the food court to the concierge, and he just wants to sleep right now without being accosted by the normal person and xyr partner that is currently roleplaying as a soldier that was just wandering around the IKEA looking like lost children.
"Uh, what she meant is that where are the shark plushies."
"Ah. They're in the toy aisle."
"Thank you."
Altair and Karina quickly walk away, Altair heavily blushing while walking quickly. Xey wanted to just sit around and sleep all day, but xey got assigned to the clerk that always stood around passing messages to the Centre from unsuspecting civillians. Maybe it was punishment for sleeping around the job, maybe it was another prank played by the motherfucking bitch Samson who can't even punch a shark even with all the augments and implants given to them but is somehow in a higher rank than xem, but now xey are stuck at an IKEA hauling around this newbie in full gear embarassing xem.
"Al? Al!" Karina shouts. "We're here, Al!"
Altair stops in xyr tracks. Finally, they have reached the area where the selachian menace are situated. Rows upon rows of selachian propaganda currently in front of them, taunting them with their numbers, cheap prices, and blank stares. Karina immediately turns on her Selachian Pugilist's Censorship Engine Goggles, while Altair continues to sip xyr drink.
"So… what now."
"Well", Karina said, with a huge grin on her face, "we take all the objects here and burn them in front of the IKEA to demonstrate to the selachians living here that we should not be messed with."
"No to that idea. One, we will get arrested by the police for arson, and two, we did not bring any lighters with us."
"I did bring a lighter!" Karina exclaims, however, after 10 minutes of searching her pockets, she did not find any lighter.
"Fine, we go to my Plan B instead — get one object and analyze it for any Deviant behavior"
"Sounds more of my plan. So, pick out the plushie you like".
Altair watches as Karina wanders around, stops in front of a blue pillar, and tries to pull it out.
"Wow, this selachiohazard sure is heavy, isn't it?"
"Right, your goggles. Let me pick up one instead, then."
Altair picks up a BLAHAJ2 with a novelty red bow on it.
"Oh hey, this one has a bow. How cute."
Karina turns around and looks at xem, horrified.
"Y-you are being affected by the selachiohazard! Don't worry, I shall save you!"
Karina brings out her Anti-Selchiohazard Gun and aims at Altair. Well, the blurry pixels that she thinks is Altair anyway. She shoots the tranquilizer and it hits something.
"Woo! I saved someone!"
"Oh come on, that was a perfectly good BLAHAJ. It even had a bowtie." Altair sighs. "Guess I'll have to find another one. Wait and guard this area for me please."
Karina throws out a salute. "Yes leader!"
Altair returns with two BLAHAJ, one with a red bow on its head, and one with a black bowtie around its neck, along with some other supplies.
"Alright, I'm done— what the fuck are you doing."
Karina is crouching on the floor, talking to a child while the mother is bothered by why this US Army soldier is talking to her child about "Selachian pugilism" and "Selachian propaganda" while showing child-friendly images of what looks like divers punching sharks. However, the child seems to really enjoy the suprisingly well-done animations, so now she's just waiting for the soldier to stop so she can go and do what mothers do.
"Karina. I'm done shopping. Let's go."
"Have you found the selachio—"
"Yes, yes, now lets go."
Altair grabs Karina's arms and despite having no implants, was able to drag her out of the BLAHAJ aisle.
"One final note kid, remember to pugilize any selachian you might see!" Karina yells at the kid.
"Okay miss!" the kid yells and waves back as they hold a small BLAHAJ in their arms.

If one were to visit a certain IKEA right now, they might be surprised at the scene that presents themselves when they enter it. A person who is currently wearing something that signals to the world that xey have little fucks to give about looking presentable dragging what looks like a US Army soldier by the arm.
Altair stops at the cashier while dragging Karina. When xey first entered the IKEA, xey were worried about how xey would look in front of a crowd, but now, all xey want to do right now is get back to the Centre, maybe chew out Samson for assigning xem to her, and sleep for 24 hours.
"Two 100 centimetre BLAHAJ, a MJOLKKLOCKA, a BRATTBY, a FORSEGLA, a SVAMPIG, and twenty SKARIG, right?" the clerk asked.
"Yep."
"Oh, huh, I forgot about this box under the cart that contains 30 more BLAHAJ."
"Wait what."
Altair turns to Karina, beaming with joy.
"Don't worry, I got almost all the selachiohazards I can get with my arms so we can analyze them further and use them for training." Karina whispers.
"Ugh fine." Altair turns back to the clerk. "Yes, we are ordering 32 BLAHAJ."
The clerk starts scanning and calculating the prices of each product. "So that should total around… 909.45 dollars."
"Thank god I brought 1000 dollars."
However, before Altair could give the perfectly good 1000 dollars to the clerk who clearly wanted to go to lunch now, Karina swoops in and hands over a credit card with a lot of noticeable swipes on the magnetic strip to the clerk.
"N-no, it's fine, it's fine. Let me pay for it." Altair stammers.
"As your junior, it is my duty to shoulder any costs that might occur in combat areas, so let me pay for this. It's fine, I have enough credit."
The clerk takes her card and swipes once. The machine beeps in disapproval to her statement.
"Ma'am, your credit is over the limit."
"C-can you try again? Maybe it just didn't pass through?"
After 3 tries, the clerk turns and glares at Karina.
"Ma'am please pay in cash or give me another credit card."
"Sure!" Karina exclaims as she pulls out another credit card. This, too, did not work.
"Ma'am, this card is blocked by the bank. Another card please."
"Um, don't worry, I have another one!" Karina says as she pulls out another one and hands it over. The machine beeps in seeming anger
"This isn't a credit card ma'am. This is your ID."
"Oh… uhhh… have another one?"
Altair watched as Karina pulls out a seemingly endless amount of credit cards from her pockets, clerk swiping through them, machine beeping in seething rage, all rejected.
30 minutes past lunchtime, with the last credit card being accepted by the machine and the clerk clearly irritated and seething behind the counter, said "Thank you for shopping."

After packing up the 30 BLAHAJ and placing them at the back of the car along with the other supplies, Altair places the two special BLAHAJ on the front seat.
"Hey, I thought I'm the one seating on the front seat?" Karina pouts.
"Sorry, gotta keep an eye on the selachians." Altair grins and winks.
"Fiiiine. But next time you go to IKEA I'm seating in the front seat, selachian or no."
The road home was quiet.

"Al…" Karina mumbled, as they approach the Centre.
"Yes?"
"Did I do good today? Was the mission successful?"
"Well, you barged into enemy territory with full gear, protected me from selachiohazards, and managed to carry out proof of their nefarious deeds without flinching a bit."
"…"
"Yeah, you did good. I will be sure to give a favorable review for you."
Karina smiles. "T-thank you, Al."
"Can I have one of the plushies?"
"Sure."

Tonight, two BLAHAJs are hugged. One, with a cute little red bow by the head, is hugged by xem, and one with a cute little black bow around its neck, is hugged by her, satisfied at her first mission outside the Centre.

Footnotes
1. Most Pugilists just call it the "Shark-B-Gone" Goggles but Karina always insists on using the full name.
2.