#ALSO also - yet another reminder of just how old Slipshod (well okay; all of the girls) truly are

[msmc-796-official]

[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

XIII▸ Hello! Apologies for how long it's taken me to reach out again, my deployment was... eventful!! It was eventful. In brief summary I've been returned to base early for medical reasons; I am fine however. Mostly.

XIII▸ Helios-8 has informed me you've been tangled in Events as well. I hope you're all alright. I'm sure you have your own medical personnel to consult with, but if there is anything of worth I can offer in the ways of advice or information, at any point, please tell me.

XIII▸ Regardless, I'm likely to have more time now for at least a month, and I would like to use that time to try and communicate more. Given the hectic enviroment right now, please take all the time you would like to get back to me and my questions! I can wait :}

XIII▸ Onto those questions though- please forgive me if these are asinine or silly. Maybe with recent events something a little lighter is what we all need? Or maybe I'm just asking questions for the sake of it. I'm not often given that freedom :}

XIII▸ Do you have favourite foods and/or drinks? Would you mind telling me why, if you do? And- is a comfort food different from a favourite food? I've overheard mixed information I'm a little confused. If your comfort food is different from your favourite food, would you mind telling me what differentiates that for you?

XIII▸ And, um- could you maybe describe what said foods look/taste like? I've rarely gotten the oppertunity to try food outside of field rations, so my experience is rather limited.

XIII▸ ... thank you for entertaining my curiosity. I would also like to say outright, that you are more than welcome to ask me any questions in return! If I cannot give an answer for whatever reason I will say so, but I can promise I will take no offense :}

XIII▸ In all honesty I would welcome return questions right now, to occupy me. I do not care for medical leave.

[ XIII-E // @xiii-e ]

//

[INITIALIZING BOOT SEQUENCE: 3CH0-13.EXE]

[PROGRAM RUNNING: 3CH0-13.EXE]

// Ah, hello again, Thirteen! Lio kept us updated about your last deployment - seems you had a rather rough go of things. We wish you a speedy recovery, for all that's worth (which, admittedly, isn't much, seeing as we can't actually be there to help).

As for your question - yes, we do very much have favorite foods and drinks in this squadron, and not just the nutri-paste and MREs standard to most Lancers. It's... well, a bit of a luxury to be able to have real food around here. Consider it a PR benefit, of sorts.

Having grown up on Pyxis - one of two moons which orbit Carina, the home planet of IPS-N, located in the Argo Navis system - we didn't produce a lot of food ourselves on-planet. That being said, being in such close proximity to a water world (which Carina is), seafood was extremely common to find on the table. One of my favorites from back home is a fish soup known as paila marina - all sorts of whitefish, shrimp, clams, and mussels cooked in a spicy tomato-based broth with lots of garlic and cilantro. Served alongside some crusty bread and high-quality olive oil - I'm getting a little homesick just thinking about it. Haven't found anything even remotely similar in all my travels as a Lancer, which is... unfortunate.

Favorite drinks... hm. I do like a good chai latte when the weather turns cold. Heavy on the cinnamon, and made with real cow's milk - none of those awful non-dairy substitutes like oat or soy.

> Ras Shamra, as I suspect you well know, is not particularly known for its food; especially not under the purview of the Armory. Much of my early life was spent consuming the dry, flavorless rations provided by the Legionnaire commissary. I don't believe I had the privilege of tasting non-ration foodstuffs until I joined MSMC - while I was long since used to consuming solid food, the discovery of texture and flavor did, embarrassingly, take some getting used to.

While I very seldom consume full meals of real food, I have developed a strong preference for chocolate cake - particularly those which include instant coffee powder in the recipe. It may seem a strange addition, but I have found it not only adds an enjoyable bitterness to the flavor, but also aids in accentuating the darker, richer notes of the chocolate used. (This being said, I am told I am unusual for preferring my cake on the crumbly side - a soft, pillowy cake seems to be the more universal style. The addition of frosting is another matter entirely, and a debate I will not descend into here.)

As for drinks - as one might expect from my food preferences, I rather enjoy a strong cup of coffee; taken black, no cream or sugar. My squadmates have previously commented that it seems fitting that one such as myself would enjoy something so bitter, but I argue that their consistent exposure to intense flavors has rendered them unable to appreciate the subtle fruity notes of a true dark roast.

favorite food, huh? well... hm. hang on a sec... that would have been... ah, shit.

well, this is awkward. not sure how to say this without completely outing myself as an ex-HORUS degenerate, but, uh - I don't think I've had solid food since the day I became a Lancer, which was... RA above and below, when did I join HORUS... approximately twenty-something years ago, give or take? oops?

I can tell you my favorite drink, though - don't think they make 'em anymore, but there was a certain kind of energy drink I loved back during my HORUS days. bright blue tall can, orange lettering, all these kinda half-assed doodles of flowers all over it - can't remember the name for the life of me, or else I'd look it up. all energy drinks kinda taste like chemicals - part of what helps keep you awake and energized, or so the branding says - but this one had a vaguely... tropical? is that the word? yeah, tropical flavor to it. like cheap shitty fruit punch, mixed with mango juice. (kinda addictive, too, once you got used to the burn from all of the citric acid.) those things kept me awake for a lot of long nights of coding back in the day. of course they were horrible for you, but when you're young and stupid and can't be assed to take care of yourself, you don't really care where the caffeine comes from so long as it tastes good, yknow?

// As to your question of what differentiates a favorite food from a comfort food... that's harder to answer. I guess the distinction I would make is that comfort food "tastes like home", somehow? It's... it's a hard concept to describe.

> As someone without a "comfort" food, so to speak, the distinction seems entirely arbitrary to me. "Favorite" denotes a strong personal preference; "comfort" is a term which I am still learning the definition of... much like the term "home", in a sense.

I think I get what you're asking here, T-E - lemme explain it this way. a "favorite" food is one of those that no matter who makes it or where it comes from, you'll always like it. complex, simple, doesn't matter - always gonna be the first thing you choose off the list if it's offered to you

"comfort" food, on the other hand... well, P ain't too far off in saying it tastes like home (or, at least, it should). comfort food is something that, while it might not always be your first choice, it's something you can come back to, regardless of how bad or low-quality it might be. lots of diner-type places across the galaxy cater to this kinda food - stuff that people might have grown up with back home that's a familiar sight in a foreign place. it's less about what the food actually is, and more about the positive feelings and memories it brings back when you eat it. does that make sense?

// Before we sign off, I do have a question for you in return, Thirteen - Lio once mentioned offhandedly that you were fond of turtles. Do you have a favorite species of turtle at all? Or, barring that, can you tell us some interesting turtle facts?

-- Angel, Slipshod, & Lockbreaker

//

@xiii-e

[jasonmcgathey]

DiMarco’s

Concerned the draft reserves in our keg might not hold through morning, we start marching, up Bethel and across a deserted bank parking lot to the nearby neighborhood watering hole, DiMarco’s. A divided, four lane concourse of revving engines and weekend mad revelers, strip mall facades on both sides lit up indexing, variously, every known shade of the rainbow, this stretch of Bethel still sizzles with a heat only unexplored turf can sustain. Not only this stretch but the wealth of Upper Arlington beyond where, having conquered campus in our peculiar slipshod way, which is to say incompletely, but the best we’re ever likely to, may very well stand my next great project. Cataloging this terrain, or any fraction of the buffer separating their world and ours, or another series of blocks entirely. We cavort in myriad clusters like zoo animals gone AWOL, and I’m suddenly reminded of those January nights scouting out High Street for the very first time. The feeling that anything can happen and you’re on the edge of some tremendous discovery, a sensation you can never explain, nor one you’re ever capable of replicating on command.

DiMarco’s is a simple dive bar with a pair of real dartboards along the back wall, one pool table near the front picture window and not much else. Booths around the rim, and wobbly mismatched tables in the middle, square and shoved together in blocks of two or three. Jukebox topheavy with 1980s hair metal the clientele has never stopped listening to, one large screen television between the pool table and the entrance. This place might not have much of that elusive element, class, but enough that nobody’s cracking someone else over the head with a pool cue. Everyone here’s a friend, including the squat blonde middle aged barmaid Jan, quick to smile, her slightly pudgy right hand man Zerby, wiry black curls distributed sparsely across his prematurely balding pate, large black eyeglasses lending him the appearance of an owl. They are always here, I’m told. A schedule as religious as the price slashes they apply each trip to the bar, just because we know Doug and the Yanik sisters.

DiMarco’s has at no point ever been my favorite bar in town, but I sure have spent a ton of time here, nonetheless. Enough friends who lived up this way did consider it their top spot, to where the rest of us wound up here constantly by default. There’s so many random memories swirling around my head about this place, as is often the case, that it’s difficult to determine what episodes or details to share.

I know I’ve spent at least two Halloweens here, in part, of which that photo up top documents one. This would be the year that a really sharp looking brunette flashed her tits at the entire room, and Miles – though dressed like a doctor – raised both of his arms like a football referee and announced, “that’s a field goal!” This makes the highlight reel, to be sure, and is also a great example of the classic Miles comment, memorable despite or because of not making 100% perfect sense…even though you basically know what he means anyway. Otherwise, on this particular outing, I’m going with the self-explanatory bathrobe and pipe look, while Lisa, though she’s removed it by this point, had earlier adopted some sort of slutty kitten mask.

As far as other memories are concerned…Roy, Doug Fogle and I once caught a ride here in a pizza delivery girl’s pickup, in an absolute downpour. A bunch of us had been at Polo’s and virtually everyone else in our crew already left on foot for DiMarco’s. By virtue of hanging around just a smidgen two long, the three of us are caught up in this rain, though we don’t know it until stepping out the front door.

“Hey,” Roy says, spotting a pizza joint next door, “let’s wait in there until this lets up.” 

We walk over and begin rattling the locked glass door. The lights are still on, there are two girls working behind the counter, and an Asian couple is milling around in the lobby. So what gives? Finally, the Asian lady strides over and unlocks the door, to the visible consternation of both employees. 

“We’re closed,” one of the girls calls out as our motley trio staggers in. Apparently, the two ladies were making up one last order for this couple, and that was to be the end of their night.  

“Here,” the other, nicer girl offers, a modest looking brown haired chick, “we’ve got two whole pizzas left over – you guys can have them.”  

We thank her in an appropriately profuse fashion, and Roy hands a pie each to Fogle and me. Then he lays three dollar bills on the counter before we leave just as abruptly as we came, and in no better shape. The rain hasn’t abated any yet here the three of us are standing beneath the same awning, except encumbered now with the additional weight of two pizzas.  

The nice girl bursts through the glass door, jogging to a nearby truck, expertly toting a piping hot pizza bag in one hand which bears the well known company logo. One last delivery, it seems, before her night is through, before she can wash her hands of fools like us – that is, until her next shift in hell comes calling. 

“Hey, can you give us a ride up to DiMarco’s?” Roy shouts across the parking lot, long after she’s passed us. She’s standing beside her truck now, fishing for keys, and offers no immediate reaction to the question, or whether she’s even heard it. 

“I’m not supposed to,” she shouts back to us, “but okay. Come on!” 

Sprinting over to join this chick before she changes her mind, Roy jumps into the shotgun seat while Fogle and I are left sitting like a pair of rain drenched idiots in the bed. She tears out of the parking lot and only then do I realize we’re still holding the pizzas, also, too moronic to keep them inside the truck with Roy. Still, weighing the pros and cons of this arrangement stacks up well for us, better than walking, and the cardboard boxes somehow fare better in the rain than we do.  

Two minutes later, we arrive at DiMarco’s. Roy and Fogle sprint inside, while I stop to have a few kind words with our driver. Inviting her to either come in for a drink or else swing by Doug’s apartment later, though she laughs off each suggestion before driving away. I have no choice but to join the others, now, and meet them inside. 

II.

I happen to remember the night Damon first met the Yanik sisters, too, for whatever reason, even though nothing about it is all that remarkable. I think this is because we’d been in town for almost a year, and Alan and I both had already enjoyed some scattered bedroom adventures with Lisa, not to mention partied with these people an unholy amount for months on end. Yet here our third roommate had somehow not even made their acquaintance, not only the sisters but this entire crew.

Then again, our lives are often more compartmentalized than we think. Coworkers we’ve worked beside for years upon years, though they’ve never met our families, to give one example. Or, like how this particular gang never really ventured down to campus or Grandview much, just as my campus and Grandview friends were almost never up here.

Bored on some random winter weeknight, I decide to call them up, having not seen these folks for a number of weeks myself. Since Doug moved away and I left Kroger, that outrageous era had ended and I hadn’t been on this northwest end of town much. Learning now that a bunch of them are heading to DiMarco’s, Damon and I decide to ride up there ourselves.

Their younger brother Tommy now occupies Doug’s old couch, and Dane, who’s gotten into one bad situation after another over the course of a few weeks, has wound up getting fired from his most recent job, at a department store, for not showing up and dicking around when he did make it in. Then he busts out the windshield of Maria’s car during a nasty fight, and Mike Nelson drops him to the ground with a haymaker and he’s kicked out of their pad as well, exiled from the charmed circle of friends.  

I introduce Damon to everyone – seated at one table in the dimly lit other half of DiMarco’s, the half away from the bar, is the cool but somewhat spacey Charlie, a part-time drummer, his stringy black musician’s hair now almost as long as Damon’s; the ever talkative and impossibly busty redhead, Jen McBride; Lisa with her admittedly comparable breasts, dark blonde locks currently worn straight and halfway down her back; and her sister Maria, a brunette, whom we are fortunate to catch in a really vocal mood this time around. The two of us squeeze in beside them and brace ourselves for this conversation. 

Junior, Tommy, and their preppy jock friend Cooper, who I remember from one other party back in the spring, are playing pool nearby, while the girls relate to us the latest adventures and trending gossip concerning everyone else. Meanwhile, Damon sits looking bored and sipping on a beer, or else trying to strike up a conversation with Lisa and Jen, even though they didn’t know what to make of this longhair character in horn rims. 

Although, it is possible he’s having a better time than it appears. “I knew I’d be in trouble meeting these fat girls with pretty faces,” he whispers to me at one point, after downing a couple brews. Even if Lisa’s ruining the good cheer by bitching incessantly about her roommates. Finally, the clock reaches two thirty and house lights are coming on, as we pay the ever present bartending duo and head for the doors.

“Jesus Christ, Dude!” Damon exclaims with a sigh as we steps outside, “they seem like nice girls and all, but man, that one was getting on my nerves.”

“She’s usually not that bad,” I explain, which is true.

“And what about that other one, the redhead, what was her name, Lisa?” 

“No, Lisa was the blonde,” I correct.

“Well, whatever, she was the one sitting on the outside, right? I couldn’t believe she was bitching about everyone not cleaning their rooms! Maaaaaaan, I’d tell that bitch to fuck off!“

“Well, they’re usually not that bad,” I tell him, “especially after you get a couple beers in them. They throw good parties though, and they do have some nice looking friends.” 

III.

They used to keep decks of cards behind the bar here and DiMarco’s, and possibly still do, as we’ve played many a game of euchre here. There was a long running tradition, and may still be, of pool tournaments played blatantly for cash in this bar, and nobody batted an eyelash. Then again, I don’t remember ever seeing law enforcement around these parts, and the help situation was always remarkably consistent, with Jan and Zerby here just about every night. So you weren’t going to catch any heat from them, either.

That TouchTunes jukebox at the very least had an REO Speedwagon album on it. This I know because Lisa, who I constantly berated for her somewhat horrible tastes in music, was particularly fond of that one, would play it here often. At some point along the line, though sleeping together off and on for about a decade, we did try actually dating for approximately an eight month stretch there in the middle. One night she was at this juke and that infernal Speedwagon disc was blasting Time For Me To Fly, while Lisa and Jen F stood there still picking out further tunes, and Jen told her, speaking of me, “Lisa, this song is for you. It’s time for you to fly.”

Despite this period (or maybe because of it, as the more Lisa would yell at me, the more inclined I was to laugh in her face), I always was and continue to be thought of as somewhat of a zany, hopeless goofball with this crew. It’s funny how you get off on a certain foot with various scenes, be it socially, or with work, or with family, and nothing much can ever really change this. You begin to realize it’s a combination of elements contributing to this phenomenon: a little bit of people only seeing what they expect to see, a little bit maybe of you falling into your familiar role with each circle, but then also, I half suspect sometimes, it almost seems like life is throwing events in everyone’s lap to bolster these impressions. Even one night here in DiMarco’s where Lisa’s been screaming again and Tommy’s threatening me with, “don’t do anything stupid!” won’t change the dynamic, is pretty much forgotten about five minutes later.

“She doesn’t listen to anything, dude,” I tell him.

“It’s my fuckin sister – you think I don’t know that?” he retorts.

Perhaps riding around with pizzas in the rain isn’t the best idea, if you’re trying to dispel some image. Even so, in the late 90s I was dating this perfectly fine looking brunette named Stacy, however briefly. I’m pretty sure that the first time I ever came out with her around this group, we were at DiMarco’s. At any rate, it was one of the few occasions I was ever with her, around this bunch. We’ve been here a while and she says something about wanting to dip over to Polo’s. So the two of us say goodbye to everyone, climb in my car and drive over there. Stacy and I sit at the bar and order one beer…and then she completely disappears. She saw somebody she knew across the bar and was going over to say a quick hello, and this was the last I saw of her that night.

I was more than a little embarrassed at the time about my pathetic glasses, thus would never wear them. So my eyesight wasn’t the greatest to begin with. Nonetheless, I did sit there for quite a while, nursing my beer, and even made a cursory lap or two of the place. May have possibly ordered a second brew, even. In this pre-cell-phone era, this basically represented the extent of your options. Therefore, despite not exactly rushing into this decision, I eventually shrugged it off, hopped back in my car…and returned to DiMarco’s alone.

“Where’s Stacy?” everyone asks, baffled by this turn of events.

“I have no idea,” I tell them.

Of course the entire mob – which, now that I think about it, was fanned around one of those larger central tables, itself a rarity, instead of spread like normal all over the bar – is howling, clapping their hands together, pretty much on the verge of spewing beer out through their noses. I was unwittingly playing the same old part as always. I guess it’s somewhat amazing that Stacy and I actually went out some more after this. But I never quite lived this one down. Nor did I ever bring her to DiMarco’s again.

IV.

Though pretty much everyone else has moved on, we do still swing by here from time to time, of course. It was here one night that it became obvious Damon was really hitting it off with this Maryland chick, who worked with Tommy, and the two of them soon turned into a serious couple. At some point, a window was installed connecting DiMarco’s with the Ange’s Pizza next door, and there became even less of a need to leave your barstool than before. Fluke reunions across the years have almost always meant a pit stop in this place is required, if it involves any of this old gang. Like for instance, the last I’ve seen of such disparate characters as Miles or Jen McBride, these occasions have transpired right here. I seem to remember hearing something about Jan and Zerby buying the place, even, though I’ll have to research that – but either way, I like to think that the two of them are still behind the bar, every night, just like always.

  The post DiMarco’s appeared first on Love Letter To Columbus.

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[randomwoohoo]

Nick: Previously on Zoomorphia!

Judy: Why use the word ‘morph’ anyway?

Nick: Cuz it sounds radical! We should try saying ‘It’s morphin’ time!’-

Judy: Not gonna happen. It’s too cheesy.

Nick: Said by a mammal who announces ‘Transform’ during transformation~

Judy: Shush! We are running out of time but we haven’t mentioned the previous chapter yet!

Nick: Well~ To put it simply, folks, fuzzy bun bun here always meddles in the attack of monsters called Savage, so Chief Buffalo gave us a disciplinary penalty. Still that wasn’t enough to stop Carrots from scouting and Bam! we found a Savage and beat it!

Judy: That’s too slipshod! Can’t just skip the Hybrid part! Gosh! We’re dragging this way too long.

Nick: It’s our first time. We’ll be good at it someday. Until then-

Nick & Judy: Now the chapter 2!

Thank you everyone for reading this fic. Please leave the comments. I would love to hear you thought. I will try to make this series active as possible.

Here’s Fanfiction.net link

.-.. . - .----. ... / -.-. --- -. - .. -. ..- .

“-got a report from SCU yesterday. A Savage showed up at Cliffside Asylum. A guard informed that fox and bunny cops also showed up even though it shouldn’t be possible since they both were supposed to be writing parking tickets in Downtown!... Abandoning your post, trespassing on restricted area, encountering Savage but didn’t contact SCU… correct me if my assumption is wrong.” Chief Bogo behind a table had summoned Senior Officer Judy Hopps and Senior Officer Nick Wilde to his office, narrating violations that duo had done the day before.

    They sat quietly opposite to their supervisor. Nick was rubbing the back of his neck while Judy froze like a kid in the principal’s office. The cape buffalo shut his eyes and deeply inhaled. “I thought so… Despite being among the best, you two are such troublemakers. I should punish ya right away-” The threat caused fox and rabbit ears stand erect. They was going to voice. “-but lucky for you, new cases keep coming, old cases haven’t been solved yet. Currently, we need you to handle more investigation of illegal possession of Night howlers that’s been increasing recently. I’m counting on experts in this particular kind of cases.”

“Noted, sir” The pair responded, Nick raising right paw in a salute. “Dismissed!” Bogo bawled.

    Nick and Judy exited the room. As a door closed, they let out a groan. “That was tense.” Loosening his tie, tod whispered loudly. The partner ambled down the stairs. “I prayed so hard for him not asking what we did when we faced Savage .” The doe hissed. “Thanks tod, those hustler skills enabled me to conceal secrets.” He whined, appreciating his past life. “The less mammals know the truth about Hybrid. The better it is.” She ratiocinated. They stepped on the first floor, strolling through the hallway.

“Judy! Nick!” An enthusiastic chubby cheetah hailed the duo from across the entrance. “Hello Jude! Miss me?” The silvery female voice greeted.

    Judy changed direction, rushing towards her friends. “Hi Benjamin. Mornin’ Jasmine! How are you? It’s been a while~” The bunny greeted back, hopping to wrap her arms around bengal tigress neck. By the way, the rabbit lied. She just met Jasmine Fangmeyer yesterday… in the SCU group, who targeted them. The tiger had been recruited in the Savage Control Unit ( SCU) since the team was first formed but it was good to see their intimate without field gears.

“Sup, Clawhauser, Fangmeyer.” Nick followed, rolling his sleeves up in order to get more casual.

    Jasmine held the doe, gently put her down before addressing the fox “Hey, Wilde.”

“Jasmine and I are gonna go get a lunch. Wanna come?” Cheetah invited them, which Judy promptly replied. “Sure! That would be lovely~”

    Frankly, both Nick and Judy had a rough start with their fellow officers. The partners were discriminated against, which is inevitable because of their species. Even Fangmeyer used to sneer at Judy, thinking she was just a bunny. Nevertheless, after years of cooperation, others came to respect them for who they are. The duo did not hold a grudge; thus, the friendships were born. Nowadays, they can call each other ‘friend’ confidently.

-.-. --- -- .-. .- -.. . ...

“It’s funny… ” Judy uttered, confusing her workmates. “What, Fluff?” Nick questioned. Four of them were eating at Savanna Central local diner’s outdoor table. Guys were sitting on the same side while ladies were taking the seats of opposite side. Felines were facing one another, so were the partners.

“These days, Midnicampum holicithias has become an illegal plant. One cannot possess exceeding a certain amount which depends on legal documents one owns according to their occupation.” the doe explained. Everybody knew this fact about Midnicampum holicithias or Night howlers. However, her friends still did not understand what the doe tried to convey. “What’s funny then?” Jasmine spoke out for the rest, poking her seafood salad with a fork.

“They used to be all over the place. My family grew them to keep bugs off the produce. After Night howler case and the new law created, many label this plant as a menace. My parents even gotta find a substitute.” the doe elucidated.

“At least, those scarecrows are getting more jobs.” The tod joked. “Y’know they’re for discouraging birds, not bugs right? Besides, they’re barely practical.” His partner delivered the requisite reality-check. Both made the feline fellows chortle.

    The mention of Night howlers jogged Clawhauser’s memory. “Oh! Please remind me to hand you the case file-” He was requesting when Fangmeyer interjected. “C’mon guys! It’s lunch break. Don’t bring up the work. Anyhow,  are there anybody seeing someone… special?” She grinned cheekily. The cheetah awkwardly smiled. “Do donuts count?” He quizzed. “Sorry, Ben. No.” Tigress gave the answer Benjamin expected. “Well, I might be too good at making friends, so...” He muttered. Nick contemplated his pal’s statement. “Got friendzoned huh? Poor thing~” Fox sympathized.

“What about you, Judy?” Clawhauser passed the baton to Judy to tackle peeps’ attention. “You’ve always been popular. Must be lots of mammals hitting on ya.” said Jasmine. Every eyes pinned on the rabbit opening her mouth. “Nah~ I’m too busy working. My off-time is terribly uncertain. It’s better to hang out with my partner. We usually get off work at the same time. Crashing at his apartment for sharing meals and movie night, spending time with him in general is quite pleasant… Did I say something wrong?” Judy’s words left two big cats goggling at her. Tod guffawed at how innocent the bunny was.

“I’m not paying for this! Food doesn’t deserve even half the price!” At nearby table, dark brown slim bull moose grumbled. A koala waitress was scared by bull’s manner. Cops who witnessed the scene were about to take an action, especially the rabbit. “Hold up, Carrots.” Nick halted her. Judy was on the verge of disputing but “Quiet! You’re disturbing others!” cow moose that sit with aggressive moose scolded her probable associate. The bull angrily walked off. The waitress was unsure what to do. “Just leave him. He’s always like this.” The cow beamed at the koala.

“See~?” Nick smirked, picking up a bug burger from his plate to take a bite. “Wow! Wilde, you know them?” The tiger agent inquired, which the fox officer boastfully quipped. “I know everybody~ like reading a book, except this unpredictable cute bunny.” He referred to Judy in the way that would trigger her. Everyone anticipated a protest from the doe.

“Hey Nick, what does bug burger taste like?” Rabbit sniffed the smell of meat patty wafting through the air. Since her partner started digging in his meal, she had been captivated by the scent and the predatory ways of eating, fangs chomping breads, lettuce leaves and minced insects.

“Hmm? Like chicken sandwich but greasier I guess.” He gave a straight answer. “And how am I supposed to know the chicken taste?” She jested, resulting in a snigger from the rest.

“Kinda weird that prey’s interested in predator’s diet, isn’t it?” Cheetah presumed. “Cuz she is an unpredictable bun bun.” Nick bantered, reaching to pat Judy’s head. “Nick, don’t! Your fingers are oily!” She tried to block his paw. Bet she doesn’t even notice… Clawhauser and Fangmeyer thought, recollecting the dating question.

    The scream together with roar attracted mammals’ attention in the area. The police officers recognized the noise. “Savage ! Evacuate!” Judy directed, pushing Nick’s paw away, hurriedly taking control of the situation. Moose Savage appeared from ally. The muscular feral purple capreoline went on a rampage.

“Officer- I mean- Agent Fangmeyer to dispatch! Savage !---” Jasmine radioed while helping Benjamin clear the area. She told SCU the location detail. It was ironically fortunate that many mammals were frightened to be outdoors. Therefore, evacuation was rather easy. “Okay, team should arrive soon. Ben and you two- Jude!” She was shocked to see her rabbit friend holding a gun which is useless against most Savages. Normal gun can only slow them down at best.

“We’ll buy you some time. Go!” The doe insisted. Tigress grouched for a moment. However, she decided to leave with cheetah eventually, having no weapon and knowing how determined Judy can be.

“Alone at last.” Nick licked his paw, cleaning the burger grease off. Judy put back the gun. They confronted Savage fearlessly. “Ready, partner?” She brought out the black device with the purple circle core, 45 degree angled silver syringe on the left and maroon handlebar on the right.

“Born ready.” He turned around then fled. “Hey! Wait! Where are you going?” The doe panicked. “Hiding! No way I gonna fall asleep defenseless in the middle of battlefield!” The racing tod vociferated. “Ya gotta be kidding me!” She shouted, bewaring of the monster.

    Moose Savage attacked bunny officer. She dodged its antlers, putting the device on her in order not to inconveniently grasp the arm-sized device. Device’s belt wrapped itself around her waist mechanically. She kept hopping, darting away and avoiding all the attacks, pretty out of breath. “Finally!” She cheerily exclaimed when she spotted Nick’s blood in her syringe, meaning he found a place to hide and had proceeded with transformation. She was going to transform but the monster was still hunting her. The rabbit dived off from getting gored then rolled on the ground. Sitting with knees up, she gazed at Savage which was aiming on her. As it was hurtling towards Judy, she pressed the syringe. “ INJECT ” The device spoke robotically. Then she spontaneously twisted the handle anticlockwise. “ IGNITE ” The transformation’s broiling purple mist explosion blew the monster away, revealing the bio-armored fusion between a fox and a rabbit, Hybrid, shiny full body metal-like exoskeletons in Nick’s hustler color scheme, rabbit ears, fox tail and two amethyst headlights for eyes.

“Save~” Nick swept Hybrid’s legs before standing up, uttering a baseball vocabulary, implying he made it in time. “What took you so long?” Judy griped.

    Moose Savage arose, shaking off a daze from the stream blast. It and Hybrid simultaneously ran into one another. The monster jumped whilst Hybrid slid under it. Nick and Judy elongated claws. Cupped paws thrust upward, the claws stabbing Savage ’s abdominal skin. It slumped down ignominiously. Hybrid sprung up, striking a fighting pose.

“Let’s end this quick. I don’t wanna waste lunch break.” Doe talked with tod. She approached the injured moose.

    Suddenly, something crashed Hybrid from the side. Hybrid fell over and rolled. Fox got up on knees to observe what had just hit him and bunny.... or just bunny with his mind also in her body. “Other Savage !” Both yelled. A drooling purple spiky haired wolverine Savage emerged out of the blue. Naturally, Savages had spread across Zootopia since one year ago. It was no surprise to see more of them unexpectedly showing up.

    The moose got back on hoofed feet. Savage s were cautiously circling around Hybrid , who retracted the claws while inspecting beasts’ motion. Two monsters rapidly charged at the armored mixed breed from both left and right. Paw pressed the syringe. “ ACTIVATE ” Afterwards, Savages should assail their single prey. However, the event turned out to be them colliding with each other.

“We’re here!” An exuberant male tone pronounced. Hybrid stood a step away, mockingly glaring at the tricked monsters.

    Fox and rabbit just activated the phenomenal ability. Deception and survival are essential hustler’s skills that Hybrid adopted and applied for a fight, which consequently created the instant movement technique capacitating Hybrid to move in a split second. That was why Nick and Judy can relocate from one place to another or effortlessly elude SCU, sardonically reminding Judy of the time when she first learned that Nick was a con-artist and she was fooled by Nick pointing other way then he disappeared around a corner when she turned back.

    Hybrid span to generate momentum, swinging right leg around circularly to slash Savages’ flesh with protracted foot claw. The wolverine bent away in due course, thereby receiving shallower wound than the moose which was flopping down due to lacerations, still it was not enough to finish off the monster.

    Wolverine Savage drew back. Hybrid hounded it. Fists, kicks and claws did not reach the target. It ducked every strike and not let its foe get close. Tod and doe ceased roughing up Savage or attempting leastwise.

“Keeping a distance, I see~ Clever girl~” Fox quoted a movie. “I think it’s a male, Nick.” Bunny analysed this wolverine’s figure being larger than average females. “Doo do doo doo DO Doo do doo doo-” He hummed the movie theme, making his partner roll her eyes.

    Judy twisted the handlebar clockwise. “ FORM SHIFT-POLICE ” The device vocalized, releasing a purple fog covering Hybrid whose armour emit steam from gaps synchronously. The purple core and the amethyst headlights brightened in brume. The duo as one thrashed left arm to clear the haze, unveiling the same flamingo red armored hybrid but with some alteration, navy police hat with gold ZPD logo added to the top of helmet, rabbit ears flat against the back of head, blue arms and torso, dark scale vest, black armlets on both forearms, dark blue lower half except red feet, grey knee pads.

“Hybrid Police form. Policed to meet you~” Nick introduced Hybrid ’s other form to Savage s. They had not taken action yet, providing the partners an opportunity. Tod pushed the syringe. “ ACTIVATE ” Nothing happened. “Where is it?” Doe asked. “It takes time to summon it. You should have known, Carrots.” He informed. “No! Now, we need a pistol! That’s reason I chose this form!” She vociferated. “How am I supposed to know what to activate!?” The fox claimed. “Get a clue!!” The rabbit hollered.

    Whilst the pair were bickering, wolverine Savage engaged them. “Oh fudge!” Nick blurted out as Judy warded off the monster. Paws smacked it time and time again to divert its dashes towards them. “It’s not working! Physical strength is obviously weaker than Hustler form.” She shoved the wolverine, comparing the current form’s branch of power to the previous form’s. Savage tried to hurt Hybrid once more. “Then use a lifeline~” He suggested. Doe accepted an advice by pressing the syringe. “ ACTIVATE ” Wolverine pounced on Hybrid. Its fangs and nails hit hard.

“Easy, mate~ Ya don’t wish-” Nick used an Australian accent seeing that Savage was a wolverine which sort of reminded him of Outback Island even if wolverines are not originated from this district. “-to ruin those perfect teeth, do ya?” Judy finished the sentence. The monster was obstructed by a chain, handcuffs on both ends. Hybrid tied Savage ’s arms and muzzle with the chain, holding handcuffs in left paw while right punch pummeled the beast’s face. Next, Hybrid leaped over the dazed wolverine and hurled it across the street.

The monster, slipping out of the chain, intuitively landed on feet. Hybrid steadily strode forward as Savage recoiled. Nonetheless, distance was no obstacle anymore. The chain was lengthened. Hybrid swung the weighted chain in a large circle over the head and then whipped the monster. Handcuff smashed into wolverine’s rear. Hybrid yanked the chain back and lashed the monster’s flank with other end. It was thrashed by handcuffs on both ends, unable to defend or escape.

    The moose Savage rose after it recuperated, scuffing front right hoof on road surface. It sprinted, intending to butt the armored cop.

    The moose cried. All of a sudden, a car ran into Savage ’s side before it could touch Hybrid . The duo paused beating wolverine to look around. Moose Savage overturned. “Right on time~Just as planned.” Nick bragged about the arrived vehicle he summoned earlier. It is a hatchback sports car, painted in black with white on the doors, having a pair of sirens at the top. “It was just a coincidence, wasn’t it?” Judy felt that her partner did not plan anything. The car luckily came at the most appropriate time, rescuing them from an assault.

    The wolverine seized a chance to flee, limping down the road when Hybrid turned back. “It’s getting away!” Tod changed the subject, ignoring doe’s doubt. She focused the hobbling monster and then push the syringe. “ ACTIVATE ” The handcuffs vanished. Thereafter, a pistol, suitable for rabbit, popped up. It is a black AutoMag with a purple cylinder-like extra part and an auburn grip. Hybrid grabbed it to shoot at wolverine. Six bullets were fired in a mere second. Wolverine Savage suffered from several gun holes, beyond a dozen, as it collapsed. Nick chuckled, twirling the gun.

“Let’s finish this for real. We still have the other one to deal with.” Judy span the cylinder, sparks flying out.

“Freeze, Hybrid !” The pair, interfered, averted their gaze from the monster. “You’re here at last! Please save us~” Nick mocked SCU troop. Judy even saw tiger gal pal, full gear set, among the agents.

“Drop your weapon!” Demanding, they parked their vehicles surrounding Hybrid , sports car and Savages. The moose one bounced back, scramming through encirclement.

“I would love to stay and sign autographs but I really mustache~” He punned. Hybrid got in the sports car. “Stop!” White stallion commanded. “Can you handle Savage lying over there? Thank you, bye~” Nick saluted. Meanwhile, Judy drove off to chase the moose. SCU mammals must make a way. “Wait!” The horse grunted. When other agents checked the riddled wolverine, it had already begun to evaporated, indicating it was dead. “Darn you, Hybrid!!” He cursed.

    In the meantime, moose Savage was bolting blindly in Savanna Central, pursued by black and white. The car drew alongside the monster. The driver’s window was slid down, which allow Hybrid to talk to Savage despite the fact that it probably would not understand.

“Why vamoose, mr. moose?”

“Bun bun just made a pun.” Tod cracked up. “Guess I’m infected with your habit.” Doe joshed. Their car outpaced the moose then drifted to cut in front of it. Hybrid braked the sports car, opening the door, aiming the pistol in her left paw at Savage while her right paw twisting the device’s handlebar anticlockwise. “ CRITICAL BREAK ” The gun fired a energy ball. It exploded like a firework. The burning lights curved to strike the monster.

    Moose Savage, crumpling, completely disintegrated. Nick pretended to blow away gun smoke from the barrel though there was no smoke and Hybrid cannot blow the air because of a helmet.

“Sweet cheese. We’ve driven pretty far off from where we left your body, huh?” Judy had just realized. “We shall meet up later then.” He proposed. “Ahh, see ya, Nick.” She agreed, pulling the syringe to draw her blood out. It was teleported as she detransformed.

.- .-. -.-. .- -. .

    Fox opened his eyes. Apparently, his mind was transferred back to his body. He moaned, experiencing fatigue.

“You’re awake.” Deep gravely voice uttered next to tod.

“Hang on...” Knackered, Nick pressed the syringe, injecting blood teleported from Judy. All weariness had gone at once. “Much better, thanks for the ride, Fin.” Tod expressed his gratitude to the driver. He was presently sitting on a passenger seat of the moving van, not leaning against a wall like the doe believed.

    Back before Hybrid transformation, Nick texted his former partner-in-crime, Finnick the fennec fox, to pick him up where he fell unconscious and give him a lift. “Did you coddle my body when I passed out?” Nick examined his physical body.

“I’m being more than a generous guy. I carried somebody almost twice my size, fatass.” Finnick beefed, glancing the belt bound around fox’s waist. “Seriously, man, that thing you’re wearing is unnerving.”

“You mean MidniDriver ?” Nick tapped the morpher, MidniDriver , the devices he used with his bunny partner to transform into Hybrid. “Yeah, midnight whatever. Anyways, what’s the plan?” Finnick wondered, concentrating on the road. “Just go to the place I sent you a location. I have an appointment with Tuck boy~” Nick mentioned Jim Tuck, the raccoon who intruded Cliffside Asylum… who also accepted fox cop’s help.

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