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Purity Test
Agents Wahl and Picks were slowly sorting out pieces and shards of what may have once been one of the last truly amorphous shapeshifters in the world. Like water that froze and then splintered and shattered into slivers of ice, its body hardened and stopped in place, and finally crumbled under the stress into the pieces on the table before them.
No signs of a living one had appeared for decades; this one was found when ground was broken for a new construction project. The pair had spent several hours going through heaps of dirt, hammered masonry and floor tile to collect all the pieces.
"Think it could still be alive?" Chris Wahl, the younger of the two agents, picked up one of the shards and sniffed at it cautiously.
The beagle, Jose Picks, brushed some more dust from his pants. "You know, normally I like field work but not when it's literally working in a field." He watched the fox and then shrugged. "Dormant, maybe. I've seen strange things on the preserves. When I was backup for Bianca on recruiting visits, or checking up on Patronage projects...I swear, she had what amounted to a bag of tricks that a secret agent would give their fangs for. All kinds of powders and potions and remedies for anything the typical mythie could throw at you." He watched as Chris took a deeper sniff. "I'm surprised you really can't smell it. No wonder you were useless out there."
"Bianca Blanque? The weasel? She gives me the creeps." He sniffed again and shrugged. "We got it all, though?" Agent Wahl picked up a larger piece and repeated his olfactory experiment.
"I did. You were just there to carry the pieces home."
There was a knock, and Director Spire let himself in. "Got another job for you two."
Chris was so engrossed in trying to catch the scent of the extinct shifter that he was caught off guard and scratched his nose against the jagged end of the shard. He yelped and dropped it on the table.
Spire shook his head. "Those might be valuable. What are you two doing, trying to huff them?" He walked around the table and threw down a folder, along with a recording capsule. "Leave the scent work to the canines," the older silver fox chided the young tod. "We're here for our brains, Wahl. I'm sure Picks will start wanting overtime doing your job as well as his."
"Are they going to try to reanimate it?" Picks let the comment about his lack of brains pass; arguing with the boss was a good way to prove him right, after all.
"No, but there's some interest in whether it has some tellical draw, maybe powering some small-scale portable magic or psionic devices." He tapped the recording and pushed it towards Chris. "This takes priority, I'll get someone else to finish puzzle duty here. We need grade A field work for this. Have either of you gone shopping for flea and tick products, lately?"
Chris stopped holding his muzzle, letting a small drop of blood pass from the cut on his nose. "I don't...Do you see any on me? I'm so sorry! I might have picked some up at that construction site!"
"Calm down, red. I just asked if you'd bought any and then heard about the recall."
"I did read about that," Jose said as he began leafing through the folder. "A batch of it was rendered completely worthless. They said the processing plant just diluted it too much before shipping?"
Director Spire shook his head. "Not unless they could dilute it all the way to zero. Some of it came into our possession. Pure water. REAL pure. Purer than the driven snow. And that's not all: there were several shelves of medications there. Very tellingly, the ones that are dangerous in high doses were all rendered inert."
"Just one of those miracles, eh boss?" Jose sniffed toward the recording capsule. "Don't tell me we get to see it in action?"
"You definitely ARE the brains in this partnership," the silver fox said as he dosed the capsule with a small amount of power, and it played shop surveillance footage. Viewed from overhead a row of fur care products, brushes, dewormers, and the flea and tick control products were visible. A shining white figure walked into the frame. A horse? No...
"A unicorn? I knew they were supposed to have healing powers," Chris said.
"And can eliminate poisons by certain sanctifying gestures with their horns. But why these products? Are we dealing with some sort of anti-pest control activist, here? One of those 'All Beings Deserve Life' lunatics?" Jose looked through the file again. "What's his angle?"
"This is why I wanted you guys," Director Spire said. "I needed someone good, but Bianca's not available right now. She's chasing down another asset who's off the preserves. But I know you've done this kind of thing before: that fellow in the footage is wild. We haven't contacted him before. We've smoothed things over with the store in exchange for this recording and information about him; he doesn't know that yet. Maybe you can use that for leverage."
A spontaneously occurring mythical creature was almost unheard of in the last few generations, but it did happen in territories far from civilization. "Got his address?"
About an hour's worth of travel and conversation about office gossip, checking to see if the small gash on Chris's nose was closing, and other banter passed between the agents as they were conveyed to the unicorn's home in a Patronage wagon; it was only when they were walking up the path to the door that they got down to business.
"How do you want to play this?" Agent Picks straightened his tie.
"I figured we'd just go the insurance angle. It works for Bianca all the time, doesn't it?" Agent Wahl knocked on the double doors, which reminded him of a barn.
It was opened by a small donkey jenny. "Yes?" Though small for her species, she was still bigger than either the fox or the beagle.
Jose blinked, slipping a little too easily into his "city breed out of his element" persona. Part of it wasn't an act; it was easy to forget size differences when running into some of the more uncommonly seen species, especially large ones.
Chris took over. "We're here to speak to Mr. Shanstar. I believe he's a border, here? At least, that's his given address! You know how those city breeds get addresses wrong sometimes when they're not all predictable?" He glanced at his partner, who recovered his composure.
"Yes...Oh yes, young todd. He's here." She gave Jose her own sidelong, conspiratorial glance, and let them in. "Walk to the end of the stalls, he's actually out in back. Doesn't want a roof over his head--but he sure appreciates the victuals here, I can tell you that much. I'll have to remind him about the rent." She shook her head and looked at the agents again. "Are you debt collectors? He doesn't have much!"
They followed the jenny's directions and spotted the unicorn; understandably, he stood out. All around him, the yard was thriving. Chris swore he could see the grass growing before his very eyes. "Mr. Shanstar? Arthur Shanstar?"
The unicorn turned to face his visitors. "Yes? You are?"
"Agents from Bedrock Insurance," answered Jose. "We got your contact info from the hardware store."
"Oh. That." He stood and flicked his long mane to one side and held his hands open. "It was entirely accidental, I assure you. I'm a stranger here, I didn't realize anything like that could happen. I had heard about dangerous or venomous folk needing liability insurance, but I never dreamed someone like me could need that."
"We've taken the liberty of paying for the damages already--a token gift from us to you, in hopes you'll seriously consider becoming one of our clients! We insure many....er...'gifted' individuals, like yourself. In fact, it's one of our primary lines of expertise."
Chris pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it over. He had several that identified him as an agent of the fictitious Bedrock Insurance Company, Ace Paranormal Solutions, Yellowjacket Construction and Remodeling--all useful aliases, in their own way. Anytime the Patronage caught the scent of someone unusual, finding a good pressure point to gather them in was priority number one. "You'll contact us, I hope, if you feel we can be of further assistance to you!"
"Rely on us for anything," added Agent Picks with a small wink. "You know, you look like you'd just be more comfortable in a small wood. Let me guess--you were thinking of moving into one of the southern neighborhoods, but they're a bit pricey? And all those regulations! Modern life can be a hassle for any true free spirit. And you'd think that a chance to market purified water with such a novel source would attract anyone with a head for business."
Mr. Shanstar gave his domicile a once-over that the agents had seen before: someone who realizes they can get out of a situation they were not happy about. Someone who has been given a lifeline. "You can call me Arthur. And do you think so?"
The unicorn stroked a small beard tuft on his chin, which reminded Chris of a goat he once knew. Jose didn't always take the lead, but he often sniffed out a good way to close the deal. Chris had to hand it to the beagle. He had a great endgame.
"Just one thing before we go," Jose said as he fished out a vial from his case. There was no label, just a screwed-on cap. "This is water that is...well, let's say it's drinkable, but just between you and me, I'd have to be pretty darn thirsty before I'd resort to drinking it. Do you think you could 'do your thing', so to speak? It helps with paperwork later and provides an imprint trace of what you've done. If someone tries to charge back similar damages to you in the future, a simple test can confirm if it was really you. Better safe than sorry."
"Of course!" Arthur waved his hands at Jose and said "I don't even need to hold it. Just wait a moment." The unicorn stared at nothing, and then slowly moved his horn back and forth, with a little jerk in the middle.
Chris, who had taken the opportunity to record the horn's motions with a capsule while Mr. Shanstar was focused on Agent Picks and the water, didn't recognize the pattern from the security footage at first. Maybe there wasn't one specific movement, and it could just "happen" somehow? He'd never understand the mythie mindset.
"It's pure water. Authentic purity!" He smiled and tipped his horn towards the case. "I believe I got all of the vials you had in there, too.
Chris rubbed his nose and was not entirely surprised to find the small cut had healed, though there was a small lump there now. A scar? That was troublesome. "Very, very generous of you, Silver. Please feel free to keep in touch! Contact us for anything. We can recommend some law firms that specialize in making contracts for individuals with...let's say, 'abilities that can be commodified'."
Hearty thanks and sincere-looking goodbyes followed, and the pair of agents took their leave. "All wrapped up nicely," said Agent Picks as they boarded their conveyor and began the trip back to the office. "I think we've corralled him."
Chris was busily labeling the vials with "A. Shanstar" before putting them back into the case. He opened the last one, sniffed it, and took a sip. "Well, it tastes like water. Makes my nose itch a bit."
"Might be steeped with the teles," said Jose. "Have you been tested for sensitivity to that?"
Chris scratched his nose, fighting an urge to sneeze. "No reading at all. Do I look like a kitsune to you? If I were, do you think I'd be doing field work with a beagle?"
"I try not to look at your ass, Chris, so I probably wouldn't notice if you sprouted another tail."
The fox covered his nose and sneezed, felt around for a handkerchief, and sneezed again. "I wonder if I was allergic to something out there. Damn, I was plugged up." He crumpled up the handkerchief and stuffed it into a pocket. "I hope we get back after closing, I could use some overtime."
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Purity Test
Agents Wahl and Picks were slowly sorting out pieces and shards of what may have once been one of the last truly amorphous shapeshifters in the world. Like water that froze and then splintered and shattered into slivers of ice, its body hardened and stopped in place, and finally crumbled under the stress into the pieces on the table before them.
No signs of a living one had appeared for decades; this one was found when ground was broken for a new construction project. The pair had spent several hours going through heaps of dirt, hammered masonry and floor tile to collect all the pieces.
"Think it could still be alive?" Chris Wahl, the younger of the two agents, picked up one of the shards and sniffed at it cautiously.
The beagle, Jose Picks, brushed some more dust from his pants. "You know, normally I like field work but not when it's literally working in a field." He watched the fox and then shrugged. "Dormant, maybe. I've seen strange things on the preserves. When I was backup for Bianca on recruiting visits, or checking up on Patronage projects...I swear, she had what amounted to a bag of tricks that a secret agent would give their fangs for. All kinds of powders and potions and remedies for anything the typical mythie could throw at you." He watched as Chris took a deeper sniff. "I'm surprised you really can't smell it. No wonder you were useless out there."
"Bianca Blanque? The weasel? She gives me the creeps." He sniffed again and shrugged. "We got it all, though?" Agent Wahl picked up a larger piece and repeated his olfactory experiment.
"I did. You were just there to carry the pieces home."
There was a knock, and Director Spire let himself in. "Got another job for you two."
Chris was so engrossed in trying to catch the scent of the extinct shifter that he was caught off guard and scratched his nose against the jagged end of the shard. He yelped and dropped it on the table.
Spire shook his head. "Those might be valuable. What are you two doing, trying to huff them?" He walked around the table and threw down a folder, along with a recording capsule. "Leave the scent work to the canines," the older silver fox chided the young tod. "We're here for our brains, Wahl. I'm sure Picks will start wanting overtime doing your job as well as his."
"Are they going to try to reanimate it?" Picks let the comment about his lack of brains pass; arguing with the boss was a good way to prove him right, after all.
"No, but there's some interest in whether it has some tellical draw, maybe powering some small-scale portable magic or psionic devices." He tapped the recording and pushed it towards Chris. "This takes priority, I'll get someone else to finish puzzle duty here. We need grade A field work for this. Have either of you gone shopping for flea and tick products, lately?"
Chris stopped holding his muzzle, letting a small drop of blood pass from the cut on his nose. "I don't...Do you see any on me? I'm so sorry! I might have picked some up at that construction site!"
"Calm down, red. I just asked if you'd bought any and then heard about the recall."
"I did read about that," Jose said as he began leafing through the folder. "A batch of it was rendered completely worthless. They said the processing plant just diluted it too much before shipping?"
Director Spire shook his head. "Not unless they could dilute it all the way to zero. Some of it came into our possession. Pure water. REAL pure. Purer than the driven snow. And that's not all: there were several shelves of medications there. Very tellingly, the ones that are dangerous in high doses were all rendered inert."
"Just one of those miracles, eh boss?" Jose sniffed toward the recording capsule. "Don't tell me we get to see it in action?"
"You definitely ARE the brains in this partnership," the silver fox said as he dosed the capsule with a small amount of power, and it played shop surveillance footage. Viewed from overhead a row of fur care products, brushes, dewormers, and the flea and tick control products were visible. A shining white figure walked into the frame. A horse? No...
"A unicorn? I knew they were supposed to have healing powers," Chris said.
"And can eliminate poisons by certain sanctifying gestures with their horns. But why these products? Are we dealing with some sort of anti-pest control activist, here? One of those 'All Beings Deserve Life' lunatics?" Jose looked through the file again. "What's his angle?"
"This is why I wanted you guys," Director Spire said. "I needed someone good, but Bianca's not available right now. She's chasing down another asset who's off the preserves. But I know you've done this kind of thing before: that fellow in the footage is wild. We haven't contacted him before. We've smoothed things over with the store in exchange for this recording and information about him; he doesn't know that yet. Maybe you can use that for leverage."
A spontaneously occurring mythical creature was almost unheard of in the last few generations, but it did happen in territories far from civilization. "Got his address?"
About an hour's worth of travel and conversation about office gossip, checking to see if the small gash on Chris's nose was closing, and other banter passed between the agents as they were conveyed to the unicorn's home in a Patronage wagon; it was only when they were walking up the path to the door that they got down to business.
"How do you want to play this?" Agent Picks straightened his tie.
"I figured we'd just go the insurance angle. It works for Bianca all the time, doesn't it?" Agent Wahl knocked on the double doors, which reminded him of a barn.
It was opened by a small donkey jenny. "Yes?" Though small for her species, she was still bigger than either the fox or the beagle.
Jose blinked, slipping a little too easily into his "city breed out of his element" persona. Part of it wasn't an act; it was easy to forget size differences when running into some of the more uncommonly seen species, especially large ones.
Chris took over. "We're here to speak to Mr. Shanstar. I believe he's a border, here? At least, that's his given address! You know how those city breeds get addresses wrong sometimes when they're not all predictable?" He glanced at his partner, who recovered his composure.
"Yes...Oh yes, young todd. He's here." She gave Jose her own sidelong, conspiratorial glance, and let them in. "Walk to the end of the stalls, he's actually out in back. Doesn't want a roof over his head--but he sure appreciates the victuals here, I can tell you that much. I'll have to remind him about the rent." She shook her head and looked at the agents again. "Are you debt collectors? He doesn't have much!"
They followed the jenny's directions and spotted the unicorn; understandably, he stood out. All around him, the yard was thriving. Chris swore he could see the grass growing before his very eyes. "Mr. Shanstar? Arthur Shanstar?"
The unicorn turned to face his visitors. "Yes? You are?"
"Agents from Bedrock Insurance," answered Jose. "We got your contact info from the hardware store."
"Oh. That." He stood and flicked his long mane to one side and held his hands open. "It was entirely accidental, I assure you. I'm a stranger here, I didn't realize anything like that could happen. I had heard about dangerous or venomous folk needing liability insurance, but I never dreamed someone like me could need that."
"We've taken the liberty of paying for the damages already--a token gift from us to you, in hopes you'll seriously consider becoming one of our clients! We insure many....er...'gifted' individuals, like yourself. In fact, it's one of our primary lines of expertise."
Chris pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it over. He had several that identified him as an agent of the fictitious Bedrock Insurance Company, Ace Paranormal Solutions, Yellowjacket Construction and Remodeling--all useful aliases, in their own way. Anytime the Patronage caught the scent of someone unusual, finding a good pressure point to gather them in was priority number one. "You'll contact us, I hope, if you feel we can be of further assistance to you!"
"Rely on us for anything," added Agent Picks with a small wink. "You know, you look like you'd just be more comfortable in a small wood. Let me guess--you were thinking of moving into one of the southern neighborhoods, but they're a bit pricey? And all those regulations! Modern life can be a hassle for any true free spirit. And you'd think that a chance to market purified water with such a novel source would attract anyone with a head for business."
Mr. Shanstar gave his domicile a once-over that the agents had seen before: someone who realizes they can get out of a situation they were not happy about. Someone who has been given a lifeline. "You can call me Arthur. And do you think so?"
The unicorn stroked a small beard tuft on his chin, which reminded Chris of a goat he once knew. Jose didn't always take the lead, but he often sniffed out a good way to close the deal. Chris had to hand it to the beagle. He had a great endgame.
"Just one thing before we go," Jose said as he fished out a vial from his case. There was no label, just a screwed-on cap. "This is water that is...well, let's say it's drinkable, but just between you and me, I'd have to be pretty darn thirsty before I'd resort to drinking it. Do you think you could 'do your thing', so to speak? It helps with paperwork later and provides an imprint trace of what you've done. If someone tries to charge back similar damages to you in the future, a simple test can confirm if it was really you. Better safe than sorry."
"Of course!" Arthur waved his hands at Jose and said "I don't even need to hold it. Just wait a moment." The unicorn stared at nothing, and then slowly moved his horn back and forth, with a little jerk in the middle.
Chris, who had taken the opportunity to record the horn's motions with a capsule while Mr. Shanstar was focused on Agent Picks and the water, didn't recognize the pattern from the security footage at first. Maybe there wasn't one specific movement, and it could just "happen" somehow? He'd never understand the mythie mindset.
"It's pure water. Authentic purity!" He smiled and tipped his horn towards the case. "I believe I got all of the vials you had in there, too.
Chris rubbed his nose and was not entirely surprised to find the small cut had healed, though there was a small lump there now. A scar? That was troublesome. "Very, very generous of you, Silver. Please feel free to keep in touch! Contact us for anything. We can recommend some law firms that specialize in making contracts for individuals with...let's say, 'abilities that can be commodified'."
Hearty thanks and sincere-looking goodbyes followed, and the pair of agents took their leave. "All wrapped up nicely," said Agent Picks as they boarded their conveyor and began the trip back to the office. "I think we've corralled him."
Chris was busily labeling the vials with "A. Shanstar" before putting them back into the case. He opened the last one, sniffed it, and took a sip. "Well, it tastes like water. Makes my nose itch a bit."
"Might be steeped with the teles," said Jose. "Have you been tested for sensitivity to that?"
Chris scratched his nose, fighting an urge to sneeze. "No reading at all. Do I look like a kitsune to you? If I were, do you think I'd be doing field work with a beagle?"
"I try not to look at your ass, Chris, so I probably wouldn't notice if you sprouted another tail."
The fox covered his nose and sneezed, felt around for a handkerchief, and sneezed again. "I wonder if I was allergic to something out there. Damn, I was plugged up." He crumpled up the handkerchief and stuffed it into a pocket. "I hope we get back after closing, I could use some overtime."
Rereading this, I suppose it comes off as a bit like the X-Files, and a bit like Supernatural.
I put up something with the character Chris Wahl before; I figured there would be some sort of agency that would exist in an anthro society where the occasional member can do extraordinary things.
Following a tip, Agent Wahl and his partner go investigate a surprising source of water.
Done for the Thursday Prompt. Try them! Or read some more great fiction by furry authors!
I put up something with the character Chris Wahl before; I figured there would be some sort of agency that would exist in an anthro society where the occasional member can do extraordinary things.
Following a tip, Agent Wahl and his partner go investigate a surprising source of water.
Done for the Thursday Prompt. Try them! Or read some more great fiction by furry authors!
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 119 x 120px
Listed in Folders
He changed weed-killer into water, eh? Call us back when he's changed water into wine!
Oh, Hauke, by this point I may be devolving into a fanboy, but what brilliance! I can't help but smile when I think about "liability insurance" for venomous folk or insect rights activists or commodifying mythical powers. Curious about Arthur's motives—the first thought that came to mind was guerilla environmentalism. Like he's a Rachel Carson warning about the imminent danger of pesticides.
Also, I like the little plot point about Wahl's cut muzzle. I thought it was a clever way to sneak in characterization without too much exposition.
Also, I like the little plot point about Wahl's cut muzzle. I thought it was a clever way to sneak in characterization without too much exposition.
I had imagined that it happened just because Arthur looked back and forth several times, moving his head up and down while he looked for a particular product. I wanted to write more about this organization, the Patronage, and after talking with a friend of mine, spinopsys I found this:
“Now the animals mark well the poison and do not dare to drink, and they wait for the unicorn. It comes and immediately goes into the lake, and making with his horn the sign of the cross, renders the power of the poison harmless” (-Freeman, 1983)
And I thought maybe it could have all been accidental! Just the sort of thing you might need insurance to cover.
“Now the animals mark well the poison and do not dare to drink, and they wait for the unicorn. It comes and immediately goes into the lake, and making with his horn the sign of the cross, renders the power of the poison harmless” (-Freeman, 1983)
And I thought maybe it could have all been accidental! Just the sort of thing you might need insurance to cover.
Freeman, Margaret (1983). La chasse à la licorne: prestigieuse tenture française des Cloisters (in French)
You can find the translated quote on the Wikipedia entry for "Unicorn Horn".
You can find the translated quote on the Wikipedia entry for "Unicorn Horn".
Ok, that is quite funny. A rather precarious existence to live, though: making sure you never nod after shaking your head. And you've introduced me to mythie Wikipedia; I may explore this, so thank you!
Another great piece, I really like this story-universe!
Why do I get the feeling Chris might have some surprises in store after his accidental cut with the dormant shape-shifter?
One question though, what are their intentions with the unicorn? If I read correctly the recruitment spiel was just a trick? Also is Mr Shanstar bipedal or feral?
Thanks!
Why do I get the feeling Chris might have some surprises in store after his accidental cut with the dormant shape-shifter?
One question though, what are their intentions with the unicorn? If I read correctly the recruitment spiel was just a trick? Also is Mr Shanstar bipedal or feral?
Thanks!
I started thinking about "The Patronage" as being an organization that tries to recruit and control useful mythological creatures. I haven't sat down to really draw up an organization chart or anything like that, but they get you on the hook by making certain problems go away. If you owe them a favor, then in the same fashion as a mob Godfather, you feel obligated to step up if they lean on you.
I pictured Arthur as anthro: hooves for feet, but hands. Being in tune with nature he probably wouldn't want to live in four walls with a roof; and if he really could cure people or drive out poisons, well, there are a few wealthy individuals who could use some detoxes! If Arthur didn't want to help out, that's fine, it's his choice...but it'd be a shame if those legal troubles he thought were behind him flared up again, or that income he was dreaming of suddenly got yanked away. Such a shame.
I'd made them up as a hassle for Hauke to deal with more than someone like Arthur. Someone who can accidentally make you turn into a rock would probably have a few more problems for fixers like these to handle.
I pictured Arthur as anthro: hooves for feet, but hands. Being in tune with nature he probably wouldn't want to live in four walls with a roof; and if he really could cure people or drive out poisons, well, there are a few wealthy individuals who could use some detoxes! If Arthur didn't want to help out, that's fine, it's his choice...but it'd be a shame if those legal troubles he thought were behind him flared up again, or that income he was dreaming of suddenly got yanked away. Such a shame.
I'd made them up as a hassle for Hauke to deal with more than someone like Arthur. Someone who can accidentally make you turn into a rock would probably have a few more problems for fixers like these to handle.
This was really cool to read. The cut nose being healed and the insurance company angle were really nice touches.
The insurance angle is how they hooked me! :>
That, and sort of making mistakes "go away".
That, and sort of making mistakes "go away".
The one and the same, though I haven't pinned down when the fox is operating. They could all be contemporaries! The Patronage has interests all over.
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