#Beam stoat

[thatsbelievable]

[killer-outlet]

Leshy got there fursona wrong

[moolovesyou]

openbook | angus tully x reader

a/n: teehee. im finding new animals to compare angus to. stoat has been added to the list.

request : "so she’s staying at barton with angus, and it’s just them. he’s DOWN BAD for her and she is too but kind of secretly like she’s nonchalant about it, so he thinks it’s just one sided. and then one day they are so bored and then she goes “wanna make out?” and you can visibly see angus panicking and freaking out that his crush just asked him that."

s: you pursue an especially shy angus tully.

w: cursing, suggestive, making out, pregnancy mention

wc: 2.4k

"I suppose that just leaves you two."

Mr. Hunham crossed his arms as he glanced between the only two students left to holdover. You and a certain curly-headed human stoat.

The past few days had been spent observing Angus Tully in his natural habitat. The first day was full of newfound wonder. At first glance, his presence proved to shine a greater aura than anyone else in the room. He hadn't noticed your incessant staring. By the third day, you had managed to move from across the study room to the same table, two seats across from him.

That's when he made eye contact with you for the first time. His eyes had widened slightly when he glanced over and already saw you looking. With a ghostly pink blush, he dug his head right back into his textbook. However, you definitely took note of the stolen glances every so often.

On the fifth day, he finally spoke to you.

". . .Um. . . can you pass the green beans. . . ?"

His deep voice whispered hushed and softly into your ear. It's like he was afraid to speak; afraid that you'd be so offended at his mere existence you would smash a plate over his head. You shivered. The whisper traveled quickly through your ear canal and straight to your spine, giving you the faintest tickle in your vertebrae.

You grabbed the porcelain platter and placed it in his awaiting hand. He had flinched slightly, inhaling sharply.

"Relax. I don't bite." Your lips curved into a small smirk. One of the other boys at the table snickered at your comment.

Angus's face flushed bright red. His face looked like a Christmas store that only sold bright red baubles. He almost dropped the green beans out of utter shock. You let out a not-so-discreet snort.

Now, here you are. Just the two of you.

"Sleeping arrangements will stay the same, each in their own infirmary room. The door must stay open at all times, however. God forbid you concupiscent youth sneak behind closed doors." Mr. Hunham grimaced, face turning into the nastiest frown. He shook his head to rid the thoughts. "Don't think you're off the hook with studying."

Both you and Angus groaned in synchrony. Angus turned on his heel, immediately retreating to the study room. You followed in pursuit behind him, keeping the smallest bit of distance. Hunham had gone to get himself a mid-day drink.

You trailed your finger along the book spines. American History. Sure, whatever. You pulled the book out, craning your neck to peek over your shoulder and get the smallest look at him. Angus had already situated himself in the table closest to the fireplace. He sat hunched over, headful of hair resting on his hand.

The light from one of the windows beamed onto him. Rays of sunlight appeared tangled in his curls. He was like a book craving to be read. Just waiting for someone to crack the spine a bit.

Before you knew it, your legs had done all the thinking. You carefully waltzed over, the floor feeling like ice to your flared up passion. You plopped yourself into the seat right beside him and placed the book down in front of you.

Angus lifted his head from his hand. A once sleepy expression now turned into one of pure bewilderment. His gaze flickered, eyes scanning you from top to bottom. They lingered on certain areas.

"Hi." You said.

Angus gulped, "Hey."

"Mind if I sit here?" You furrowed your brows, opening the textbook to a random page.

"You already are." He mumbled. He cracked his knuckles anxiously. "N-Not that I have a problem with that. Not at all."

"Good." You smiled at him. He swallowed, once again. His eyes were practically bulging out of his head.

For a while, you actually studied. You paid no mind to the mind-boggled handsome deer beside you. His breathing faltered with every page you turned. It was laughable. Just then, a door creaked open.

"EXCUSE ME!" An angered voice boomed. "Don't sit beside each other!"

Hunham.

"I didn't know teen pregnancy was airborne." You quipped, scoffing at the fuming man. If this was a cartoon, Hunham would have puffs of smoke billowing out of every orifice in his face.

Angus stifled a laugh, before straightening his face at Hunham's narrowed glare.

"Separate."

You and Angus shared a glance. You didn't move a muscle. Angus shifted awkwardly in his seat. The stocky man raised a brow, mouth dropping in disbelief.

"Move away, Mr. Tully."

Angus's lips formed into a thin line. With a harsh smack, he shut the book he was reading. He hesitantly lifted himself from the chair. It skidded against the floor with a loud screech. He gave you a quick final glance. His eyes were pleading to see your face for more than just twenty minutes. An hour, hell, he'd sit there for two weeks staring at your blank expression. He blinked away the puppy dog stare and shimmied over to a table in the farthest corner.

Thanks, Mr. Hunham.

The rest of the day blurred past. All that heavy tension had proved to be a terrible prescription for you; as it didn't allow you to think straight. You sat across from Angus during dinner, allowing you to tap and tease him with your foot. He nearly choked on his potatoes.

It was now past curfew. Every night, an hour or so after curfew, Hunham would pass through the infirmary for a quick bed check before going to bed. You couldn't sleep. You didn't know why exactly. But, it felt like you were waiting for something. An opportunity was on the line. Angus was less than 20 feet away from you. There wasn't even a door separating you. Hunham was on the complete other side of the wing. How could you pass this up? The night sky had finally answered you and the stars aligned; and they formed a bright white arrow pointing into Angus's room.

There it was. The small pitter-patter of Hunham's footsteps. You shut your eyes, trying to appear as deep into slumber as possible. The floorboards creaked underneath him as he stepped closer. He stopped, right around where the door must be. Silence. Did he even breathe?

A couple more seconds passed. And then; pitter-patter. All the way down the hall, until it disappeared into a room and behind a shut door.

You almost threw yourself out the window with how quickly you shot up from the bed. Your toes tapped against the cold wooden floor. It dissipated any tiredness within your body. You stood sheepishly. Moving from this room to the other was a mission. It had to be preformed like a graceful dance. Every step was important. Every step had to be meticulously calculated. Simply to make sure not a single creak or squeak blew your cover.

You tip-toed past the empty beds in your room, stopping at the doorframe. His room was a foot away from you. You could almost see the bedframes. You peeked out the room, an ominous ever-elongating hallway proving to be empty. With a few more steps, you found yourself past his open doorframe.

Oh, and how worthy it all was. Angus laid there, in his makeshift infirmary queen mattress. He faced away from you, shoulders rising with every breath he took. You were physically drawn to him, inching closer to his bed until you gently sat on the edge of the bed.

Angus shifted sides. He flipped over and faced you. His face twitched in his slumber, eyes stirring under his shut lids. You hoped he was dreaming about you.

Was it creepy to be sat staring at him? Yes. But, how could you not? He looked so peaceful. So pretty. Your gaze sketched over his features, noting every freckly spot and mole on his skin.

You reached your fingers towards his jaw, hovering just slightly above the soft skin. His stubble had grown a bit throughout the days stranded here; causing his jawline to look impossibly sharper. You don't know what you were thinking (other than 'shit, shit, shit, shit'), but you placed your thumb onto his skin. A gentle caress.

You clearly didn't plan for him to be a light sleeper, however.

Angus rustled, before fluttering his eyes open. Just like that, the sereness within him vanished.

His eyes widened and he leaned away from your touch.

"What are yo-"

You clasped your hand over his mouth. You held a finger to your mouth, signaling him to 'shut the fuck up'. His shocked expression faltered once he realized it was you. Warily, you dropped your hand.

"What are you doing awake?" Angus whispered.

"I couldn't sleep." You replied.

Or, you didn't want to sleep.

"How did you end up here?" He sat up, leaning towards you. He raised a questionable brow.

You honestly didn't have an answer.

"Would you like me to leave?" Your brows knitted together, lips curling into an offended frown.

"No, no! That's not what I mean. . ." He muttered. Even in the bare moonlight, the blush on his cheeks was bright.

"Please, stay." He whined, voice in a slightly higher pitch. You couldn't help the smirk crinkling upon your face. How could you say no to that?

"Sure." You relaxed onto the bed, leaning your back against the frame. He watched your every move. Which meant he was either completely hypnotized or trying to guess your next step. "So, why are you stuck here?"

"My mom and her boyfriend ditched me. I was supposed to be in Saint Kitts right now." He solemnly nodded, staring at you through half-lidded eyes. He rubbed his palms against his thighs. "What about you?"

You breathed out defeatedly, "Happens every winter break. Its sort of become my vacation now."

"That sucks." He mumbled.

"It's normal." You shrugged.

The conversation dissolved. The sound of the air conditioning hummed in the background. Wind howled against the windows. Angus's back cracked as he leaned back onto the bad, laying down horizontally. His legs stood bent off the bed, dangling a bit.

You laid back beside him. Your shoulders grazed each other, yet once again, neither of you budged. You turned your head to face him. His stare was fixated on the ceiling. The lights and shadows danced a helter-skelter choreography.

Your breath hitched as he turned to face you, fully laying on his side. He propped himself up on his shoulder. You were overwhelmed with adoration. Your mind wanted to keep him like this forever; picture perfect. But your body wanted to consume him in ways even abstinence couldn't hold off.

"Wanna make out?" You voiced.

Angus nearly suffocated with how long he held his breath. His jaw had dropped. Suddenly, the floor grew more interesting to him. He attempted to speak, but only muttered gibberish. After what felt like forever, you sat up and Angus mimicked your movement swiftly. He goggled at you expectantly.

"Yes or no?" You placed your hand under his stubbly chin, lifting his face closer to you.

"Yes." He gulped. He exhaled shakily against your lips.

You couldn't guess it. He was the first to lunge forward. He interlocked his lips with yours under a spell of dire neediness. His hand immediately traveled to the back of your neck, pulling you close and applying more pressure into the kiss. Cold and slim fingers which left you at a loss for thoughts. His nose nuzzled against yours. You lifted your hand to his cheek, cradling his face in your palm.

Angus swiped his tongue against your bottom lip. He wanted more. His fingers had tangled themselves in your hair, gripping hard enough to give you a jolt of satisfying pain. You smiled against his lips. You captured his lip between your teeth, biting down softly.

He pulled back. His face was flushed and adorned with pink and moist lips. His forehead rested against yours, curls tickling your skin.

"I though you said you didn't bite." Angus breathed. "Do I taste that good?"

What a flirty little fucker.

"Shut up." You snickered.

You clambered atop him, straddling his hips. A small groan escaped his mouth. His hands immediately traveled to your back. He pushed you close; chest to chest.

"You're pretty cute, Tully." You murmured close to his lips. He chased your words, neck craning up to angle his mouth against yours. ". . . and ballsy."

"You've had me worked up this whole week. Let me have this." He cupped your face within his hands.

His lips planted against yours like clockwork. Although, without the previous intense fervor. This was softer, more intimate. Your lips molded together gently. The kiss traveled all throughout your body. Your fingers and toes tingled alike. Your heart had his lip marks printed all over it. Wrinkles and cupid's bow indented and branded.

You pulled away, each of you catching your breath. That once shy, begging, baby animal expression had transformed into a lovesick daze with a shit-eating grin plastered like a cherry on top.

"You wanna go on a date? January? New year, new you. You could turn into us." You sat back up. Your hands interlocked with his, pulling him up with you.

Almost instinctively, he fit his hands onto your waist.

"I'd love to." Angus smiled. "But, we should be careful. We might be vulnerable to catching a case of the 'teen pregnancy.'"

You laughed. A little too loud. Angus covered your mouth quickly, both of your faces injected with fear. There's no way he could've heard it, right? Opposite side of the wing. That physics lesson on sound waves would've really come in handy right now if you paid attention.

A door was pulled open abruptly. Pitter patter rushed across the hall. Angus pushed you off, giving you one last swift peck, before you scurried over to your bed. You leaped onto it, covering yourself with the scratchy sheets. Your heart had pumped itself nearly to your throat.

"HEY-" Hunham cut himself off. You could only imagine the baffled look on his face. "Oh. Great, the Christmas spirits have come to visit me."

He waddled off into the hallway.

You smiled in disbelief. That worked. You felt satisfied; and giddy. You wanted to kick your feet and scream with delight. You just made out with Angus fucking Tully.

The excitement had exhausted you and you finally felt your first ounce of drowsiness. Although, you weren't opposed this time. You'd had enough time reading Angus's lips to invite some vivid imagery into your dreams. He was definitely the kind of book you wanted to read again.

[binomaly]

Wow can’t believe the Stoat Pope canonically blasted the First Stoats with the transgenderfication beam

[fuumiku]

Who’s taking who too lightly now? Playfighting my beloved

Rabbit Marcille and stoat Chilchuck, yay for rabbitstoat au, for no reason for funsies! This is here that I reveal humanoid monsters are my top favorite thing to draw actually. I really like centaur Marcille x satyr Chilchuck so this is kinda in the same vein~ I was gonna do weasel Chil at first but then friendo said a stoat’s personality fits him more and I said yes chief I trust you w my life. Speaking of, my own Chil stoat-sphinx design is partially inspired by said friend’s here!

Chilchuck playfighting and trying to "teach her a lesson" bc she's not taking him seriously so he pounces on her and pins her down but she's just giggling and smiling and beaming and suddenly she’s bigger too she’s not just a ball of fluff all stretched and it all makes him feel a little something. Chil wanting to get back at her for her teasing but he can’t go too hard on the threatening bc he’ll want to pounce on her one way or another if he gets too caught up in it whooops 💞 Timeless marchil staple, put that man in situations

Smaller predator x bigger prey animal is very fun, thank you lucky-fy’s dunmeshi beastars au for making me think of them that way… It adds to it I think, that sort of "well even if I do want you you’re out of reach" bc like even if the predator does manage to kill it it’d have a hard time eating it all right away and idk idk…. It’s that "No. No she’s offlimits" he says at himself bc ‘it wouldn’t work out’ even if it feels right… The sort of going against nature in both that they wouldn’t want to kill each other and that the dynamic shouldn’t be going this way around, and that despite everything pointing to how they shouldn’t be able to work out they can still make their relationship into what they want it to be. -gestures- Metaphors. Well sorta gdbdga in this AU I just think about them frolicking in the fields on sunny days then having tension once in a blue moon and that’s it lmao. "I can’t return your feelings because I’d only hurt you in the long run" "🧍‍♀️bruh be for real". Chilchuck guilt & longing meanwhile Marcille is just chilling having the time of her life, either blissfully unaware or just waiting for him to get his head out of his ass

It’s like how Chilchuck is so tall for a half-foot, within half-foot circles he has no problem being seen as very much a man and a rather well-ofd handsome one at that, but as soon as it’s with other races the dynamic is completely changed and he’s kinda stripped of that aspect of himself in social dynamics. No weasel or mouse would belittle the graveness of a stoat as a predator but wolves and foxes and hawks may laugh at them yk what I mean. Sighh sigh sigh sigh. Them. He’s her rotten soldier, her sweet cheese, her good-time boy

Making their way in the dungeon like "you see this shit Chilchuck?"

[corvidoodle]

shoots Dubward with a polymorph beam and turns him into a ferret/weasel/stoat/mustelid of some kind. enjoyed breaking down an organic animal into metal parts. i should do this more often. shoutout to @slumberingslothfully for connecting the wires in my brain. ferrets & the like fit him so well

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

aabria i love your mind and how it works i just googled the meanings for the names of the first stoats and sybil and.

kiran (dictator) - “beam of light”

uri (stope) - “my light, my flame”

jomei (speaker) - “spread light”

hester (silence) - “star”

sybil - “prophetess/oracle”

my fucking god. yeah that’ll do it

[wynought]

since i haven't seen it being pointed out before

all of the first stoats' names essentially mean "light"

kiran is of sanskrit origin meaning "ray of light" (and, according to wikipedia, an explicitly unisex name), uri is a hebrew name meaning "my light", hester is a variant of the name esther (of biblical/jewish origin) which comes from the same old persian root as the word "star", and, while i didn't find any particularly reliable source, various babyname websites at least seem to agree that jomei is a japanese name meaning "spread light"

additionally, their names seem to correlate with their purpose/position in last bast:

jomei is the speaker, they are in charge of propaganda - quite literally spreading the belief system and worldview of the first stoats aka the Light. it feels like this name is extremely straightforward in its meaning, but i was also unable to find much else on it, so there may be some additional hidden truth that i'm missing so far.

hester is the silence (the one with the gas mask missing their lower jaw and tongue) and their sphere of influence is secrets. now, i'm no religious scholar, and i have all of my information from quite literally the introductory paragraphs of the wikipedia article on the name esther. however, it seems that queen esther only took this name after ascending to the throne of persia to hide her true identity. this is reflected in the hebrew root of the name esther translating into "hide"/"conceal". (i am unable to provide more info on this, but anybody with a working understanding of how hebrew works and/or with more insight on the book of esther, feel free to interject/correct/add on to this)

uri is our beloved stoat pope. apparently, the name uri comes from the verb for "to shine" (to either be or to give light) and the mark of possession, resulting in the first connotation i mentioned earlier - "my light". this possessive marker, however, can also be interpreted as the name Yah which would be an abbreviation of YHWH - a marker of the divine, if you will. Therefore, Uri can also mean "Yah is my light", a very fitting name for the stoat whose department we only see called "faith".

i was unable to find a deeper meaning behind kiran's name, although to me "beam of light" feels very much like a name befitting the first stoats' leader. considering the way they commanded the wolf of theseus, it also seems to reflect the way their magic/their brand of control worked (their line of sight was part of how they controlled the wolf, indicating that was a key part of either their magic or the conditioning inflicted on the wolf - i'm partial towards the latter, considering how the wolf reacted to tula after she healed it). if anybody has anything more concrete to offer, though, i am all ears!

anyways, the first stoats' names are really cool, and we as a fandom don't talk enough about them because they died so fast. huge props to aabria for this fun bit of world building!

(disclaimer: as mentioned above, i have no background in theology or judaism, nor do i have any deeper knowledge of sanskrit, hindi, and indian mythology/folklore, nor japanese, and japanese mythology which would give me a deeper understanding of these names. my information comes from google and while i did try my best to verify the claims, i am fallible and happen to currently be very tired, so please correct me, if i made any mistakes!)

[pikmininaplane]

@underrated-d20-event day 13 – Study! And my first foray into Burrow’s End <3 One of my favorite seasons… I love this damn family of stoats so much 💞

(Vague spoilers for the Burrow’s End finale!)

New Kid in Town (364 words)

There’s a strange kind of excitement buzzing throughout the hallways of Oxford college. Even more so than there usually is on the first day of school. It’s like a layer of tension, hanging low and threatening to snap at any moment.

People watch her walk around, all eyes on her, looking down on her, though the expression on their face is one of shock and confusion, rather than mockery.

She doesn’t pay attention to that – she’s way too excited to care! In fact, she stops to ask the nearest guy for directions to her classroom – class 201, she’s been told – and chirps happily when he finally points her to the room in question, after several seconds spent staring at her blankly. It’s like he simply can’t process what he’s seeing.

After walking around some more, she makes her way to the classroom. "Intro to Nuclear Physics", the schedule affixed to the door reads for the corresponding time slot. Perfect!

The door is ajar, so she comes in, pushing it just the slightest bit. Most of the students, already seated, keep whispering amongst themselves, but a few of them lazily gaze in her direction before freezing, their eyes threatening to pop out of their skulls. Soon, the whispers turn agitated, and more and more heads turn to her before snapping back.

Nonetheless, she looks around for a seat and trots over to one of the only unoccupied chairs. Her seatmate looks flabbergasted to see her, but they still help pull the chair back so she can climb up.

"Hi! I’m new here," she giggles, looking up at them. "What’s your name?"

But before they can answer, the teacher comes in, hushing the room into silence.

She watches, excited, as he walks to the front of the room and begins calling for the students. Her first day of college! Can you imagine?

"And then, there’s, uh…" the teacher squints to read the words written on the paper, a mixture of bad eyesight and sheer confusion. "… is someone just called Lila? No last name?"

Beaming, Lila scrambles to the top of her table before raising her little stoat hand up with a large smile.

"That’s me!"

[bandnameserver]

Beam Stoat

[kits-shrine]

"Well then, I very much want to see them," she beamed.

Beaming Yurei all but scooped them both up and hurried to the ring booth. The stoat running it groaned good naturedly as he saw the large skeleton approaching "Oh nooo. Are you here to wipe out the rest of my prizes?"

[intersectionalityamazon]

Omg I haven’t finished ep5 of Burrow’s End yet but I wish that the lab stuff was a stoat beam to turn humans into stoats, because that’s the funniest solution I can think of

[inu-jiru]

Juskanock: A Tale of Redwall - A Redwall Fanfiction - Chapter One

Beams of warm, yellow sunlight bathed the forest floor that morning. Gentle breezes plucked the last amber-red leaves from their branches, carrying them down to the exposed roots of the trees that once nourished them. Autumn had visited the woods again, two autumns since the birth of Barabell. At eight seasons old, the vixen was well past her infancy, not an adult, but no longer reliant on her mother's milk. Her face had yet to be marked with the symbol of the Juskanock: a green arrow that stretched along the length of the muzzle. Barabell could only earn this marking after succeeding her father's test. Today was not her first attempt, but she hoped it would be her last.

Barabell sat on one of the high, naked branches of a rowan tree. She sat with her back against the truck, one paw clutching the strap of a traveling pouch, and the other holding onto a longbow, one suited for a fox as young as she. Her golden eyes scanned the forest below her, searching for any signs of her father and Black Alder Club. In the traveling pouch was a wood pigeon slain by one of Rangum's arrows. Her test was simple; Barabell was to take the pouch and make her way back to the Juskanock camp, alone, and without being caught by Rangum and Club, who were tracking her.

The forest was quiet save the occasional warbling of songbirds and the drumming of a woodpecker's beak. Barabell wondered how far away Rangum and Club were from her location. She was given a thirty second head-start and took off running in the direction of camp. The first time Barabell had done this test, she simply ran until she was exhausted, and was found easily thanks to the trail she left. The next attempt, she had tried hiding, but the spots she chose were painfully obvious. Now, Barabell had a bit more sense. Her father's eyes would be on the forest floor, so what better place to lie in wait than up in a tree? Barabell chuckled to herself. It was a clever trick, and Rangum would never suspect it. It would have been nice to have some extra leaves for cover, but as long as she stayed still and quiet, Barabell felt certain that she would not be spotted.

Minutes passed and Barabell eventually heard the rustling of leaves. Some beast was kicking them up with their footpaws, most likely the big brute that was Club. With a cheeky grin, Barabell peered down at the forest floor, expecting to see the rat wandering past her hiding place. What she actually saw, however, made her blood run cold. One by one, five strangers came into view, armed and scanning the area as they walked. They were Juskabeasts, as evident by their tattoos: two swirling, black lines that started on the right brow, looped the eye, and ended at the cheek, with another line of small, white dots between them. Barabell's parents and grandmother bore the same markings, the symbols of their old clan: the Juskalaith. What were they doing in the Juskanock's hunting ground? Why were they armed? Who were they looking for? These questions, and more, buzzed around in Barabell's head. Her heart pounded in her chest and her grip tightened on her longbow. "What do I do...?" she asked herself in a trembling voice, quietly, so that the trespassers could not hear her. This was a situation Barabell had never found herself in before. This was the first time she had seen trespassers on Juskanock land, and if they were unfriendly, her father and Club would be outnumbered.

"'Old it," commanded the scruffy, brown rat taking the lead. He held up his free paw, the hilt of a cutlass firmly grasped in the other one. His allies obeyed, a stoat, two ferrets, and another rat. Barabell watched the brown rat's ears twitch. "Let's 'ave a lissen fer arrows. Rangum might be 'untin'."

Barabell did not dare to breathe as the five Juskalaith listened to the sounds of the woods. Seconds passed. The birds never ceased their singing, nor did the woodpecker cease his quest for a meal. Agitated by the noise, one of the ferrets, armed with a sling, pulled a stone from a pouch on his belt and aimed randomly.

"Shuddup already!" he snapped as the stone went flying. Barabell flinched at the loud thud. Wings fluttered as the birds took flight. The drumming of the woodpecker's beak also halted. A silence followed, and the Juskalaith beasts listened again. A few more seconds went by before the stoat snorted.

"Not 'round here, I reckon," said the stoat. "Must be further along. Just wish 'e 'ad a trail we could follow."

"Mushbrain," hissed the brown rat. "Rangum ain't no fool. Our best bet is t'search this forest top t'bottom. Even if 'e spots us first, we can easily swarm 'im and bring 'im down."

They were going to kill Rangum, and Barabell was clueless as to why. She had to do something, but what? How could she...?

The vixen's eyes brightened as an idea formed in her head.

"C'mon, move it," ordered the brown rat as he started off. "The sooner this is done, the sooner we can grab Lansah and 'ead back. Remember, we're gettin' a good meal if we do this right."

"Good," huffed the other rat, a female. "I'm tired of chokin' down roasted seaweed every night while Crabcull and the other brown-nosers get the best vittles."

While the group continued in the direction they were going, grumbling and complaining about the one they called Crabcull, Barabell pulled an arrow from the quiver she carried on her back. She loaded the arrow, drew the bowstring back as far as she could, and aimed to the east. She watched the group move further and further away from the tree, and when Barabell felt that the time was right, she released the arrow.

THWANG!

The arrow took off like a shooting star, disappearing from Barabell's view in a matter of seconds. Wherever it landed, birds took flight and Barabell could hear their panicked calls. As she hoped, the Juskalaith beasts stopped and glanced towards the east.

"Just as I thought..." The brown rat took a few steps in that direction. "'E's shootin' birds."

"Why in the Dark Forest would 'e be 'untin' there?" questioned the sling-wielding ferret. "Ain't that where the Stone Border is?"

"Aye," agreed the brown rat. He then scoffed. "Just our luck. But, again, Rangum ain't stupid. 'E wouldn't get too close to it. We 'ave nothin' to worry about. Heh, if we're lucky, we can trap 'im there and he'll be forced to surrender."

A chorus of agreements and snickers arose from the Juskalaith beasts as they continued their hunt for Rangum. As they disappeared into the undergrowth, Barabell, who's heartbeat rivaled the beat of a hummingbird's wings, began climbing down after looping her bow around her body. Fortunately, going down was easier than going up. Digging her claws into the wood, Barabell allowed gravity to do most of the work. She tried distracting herself with some interesting facts from her grandmother.

Apparently there were creatures that were born with some natural ability to climb trees, and much faster than Barabell ever could. Squirrels, they were called, bushy-tailed and red-furred, much like her. The concept of such a creature fascinated Barabell so much that she had crafted a doll based on the mental image she had conjured in her head. The toy squirrel was named Lunger Longtail, and was back at camp, awaiting her return. The thought of her only friend steadied her shaking limbs somewhat.

Among the Juskalaith group, however, the sling-wielding ferret, who was named Chummer, stopped and looked over his shoulder. Noticing his hesitation, the rat leader shot Chummer a glare.

"What? Why've ye stopped?"

"Somethin's off..." muttered Chummer.

"Off?" echoed the rat. Chummer's clanmates stopped to look at him questioningly. "What d'ye mean "off"?"

Chummer shrugged. "Dunno. Call it a 'unch. Think I might patrol 'round 'ere some more. Rangum might be clever, but all it takes is one stone to his skull."

"Sounds more like yer scared o' goin' to the Stone Border to me," mocked the stoat with a wide, toothy smile.

"Stow yer gab, Hollowgill," Chummer shot back roughly. He then turned and began walking back to the path the group had originally been taking. "I'm goin'. If I'm right, ye all'll be lookin' mighty stupid."

"An' if yer wrong," laughed Hollowgill as she brandished a dagger and followed Chummer. "The look on yer face'll be 'ilarious."

"Ye both can find yer own way back to t'camp," the brown rat called after them. He nodded for his remaining comrades to follow him. "C'mon. Let the idiots wander. More of a reward for us when we bring back Rangum's 'ead."

Barabell had nearly reached the bottom of the tree when she heard the returning pawsteps of Chummer and Hollowgill. Her heart skipped a beat, and in her moment of fear, her hind paw lost its grip. A cry escaped her maw as she fell downwards, her back hitting the rowan's protruding roots.

"Ow...!" winced Barabell. Not far from where she lay, Chummer's ears perked.

"Didja 'ear that?" he asked Hollowgill. "That was a voice. A brat, by the sounds of it. Now, din' Crabcull say Rangum an' Lansah might've settled down an 'ad one by now?"

It took Hollowgill a second to respond. She was surprised, and a bit peeved, that Chummer had not been a fool like she had previously thought.

"Ain't 'eard no voice," lied Hollowgill. Chummer squinted at her, before loading his slingshot with another stone and starting off in Barabell's direction.

"Stay 'ere, then," Chummer snarled. "I'll get the brat meself."

"Not without me, ye don't..." hissed Hollowgill. Barabell had recovered by this time, and hearing the Juskalaith pair grow closer, she ignored the dull pain in her back and took off on all fours. Her cover was blown, but that was not Barabell's concern. She needed to find her father. Chummer and Hollowgill looked after her.

"Oi!" Chummer shouted as he began running, twirling the sling. "Stop! I said stop, brat!"

Barabell, of course, did not listen. Chummer launched the stone. It cut through the air, its whistling growing louder and louder in Barabell's ears. She tried running faster, hoping and praying that it would miss.

THWACK!

"Ahh!" Barabell cried in pain as the stone caught her left footpaw. She fell flat on her belly with a groan. Chummer and Hollowgill rushed to close the distance. They would not kill the young vixen, not yet. The one ordering them about, Crabcull, would find young Barabell to be very interesting.

Barabell's paw was throbbing. Even the smallest flexing of her toes sent pain all throughout it. This was bad. They were going to catch her! Fear began to take over despite the weapon she carried. Although she could have attempted to load her bow, there was no guarantee that she could land a good blow, and the other Juskalaith would deal with her immediately after. Her golden eyes glistened with tears and she slammed them tight as she lay amid the leaf litter. Barabell had always hoped that her first fight against enemy Juska would be at her parents' side, Club providing aid and Moggs ready to tend to their wounds after their victory. The fantasy had excited her before, but she felt no such excitement now. The young vixen was terrified.

"Papa!" Barabell screamed as hot tears ran down her cheeks. "Papa, help!"

The shadows of her pursuers fell over her. Barabell looked up to see the wicked sneers of the ferret and stoat.

"Aww..." cooed Hollowgill, malice dripping from her words. "Poor baby's callin' for 'er Daddy. Not t'worry, lass. We ain't gonna 'urt ye, hehe..."

"'Ey, 'ow's about ye tell us where yer Ma is, and we'll all go on a nice trip to the Juskalaith camp?" Chummer hummed. "Our friend Crabcull would love to see the two o' ye. C'mon. Speak up."

Barabell couldn't speak, instead, silently shivering as she looked up at the Juskalaith beasts. Hollowgill gained an evil glint in her eye and allowed sunlight to glint off her dagger.

"Answer the question!" she roared. "Stupid brat. Talk, or I'll bleed ye! Talk!"

"Just leave me alone!" sobbed Barabell. "I don't wanna go wi' ye!"

Chummer put away his sling and raised his paw in preparation for a strike. "Tsk. Stan' back. The brat won't talk. I'll just knock 'er out an' we can--"

Chummer never finished his sentence. Before the ferret even knew what happened, an arrow shot him through the back of his head. The lifeless Chummer crumbled to the ground. Hollowgill's previous aggression left her as fear took over. Frantically, the stoat ran to the trees for cover, only a large figure to appear in front of her and bash in her skull with a heavy club. She fell onto her back, dead. A silent Barabell stared at the two slain Juskalaith, and then at her approaching saviors: Rangum Nock and Black Alder Club.

"Barabell!" gasped Rangum as he came to his daughter's side. He knelt down and helped her into a sitting position. Barabell groaned at the pain from her injuries, but they were nothing compared to the amount of shame she felt in her heart. "Oh, lass! 'Ell's teeth, I thought we wouldn't make it 'ere in time. Me an' Club 'eard you screaming..."

"I..." Barabell's voice was barely above a whisper. Her mouth stayed open, but no other words would come out. She wanted to say that she was alright, but that was a blatant lie. Her paw stung, her body ached, and her pride was wounded. Her ears fell as she turned away from her father's concerned face. With a gentle paw, Rangum made her look at him.

"'Ey..." said the Taggerung softly. "Yer safe now, Barabell. I'm 'ere, alright?"

Barabell's eyes turned away. She said nothing. Rangum was about to speak again when a low growl from Club stole his attention. Rangum turned to see Club lifting Chummer's head and pointing to the tattoos. Rangum's eyes narrowed.

"Juskalaith," hissed the Taggerung. With a serious look in his eyes, he focused on Barabell again. "Tell me, lass, was it just these two? Or were there others?"

"...There were five of 'em," Barabell whispered. "I saw 'em from where I was 'idin', up in the trees..." She pointed up to her hiding place. With wide eyes, Rangum and Club glanced at where she was pointing and then stared at each other. A moment later, Rangum managed a small laugh.

"So this is 'ow I find out my cub's a tree-walloper, eh?" It was an attempt at lightening the mood, but Barabell's look of embarrassment never changed. Rangum cleared his throat. "Right, so, which way did they go, Barabell?"

"To the east," replied the vixen. She pointed again. "I shot an arrow that way, where the Stone Border is. I tricked 'em an' made 'em think you were shootin' birds. The five of 'em left before, but those two came back..." She paused for a moment. "They want t'kill you, and take me and Mama away."

Rangum felt the fangs of rage grip his heart. His fur bristled, and his eyes darkened and he pulled another arrow from his quiver. A startled Barabell looked up at him.

"Did they mention Crabcull?" asked the Taggerung in a low voice. Barabell nodded quickly. Rangum fit the arrow to his bow and looked to Club. "I figured that black-'earted cur wouldn't leave us be."

"Who is he, Papa?" asked Barabell. "Who's Crabcull?"

"We'll talk about that later," answered Rangum Nock. "Right now, y'need to get t'camp and get those wounds taken care of. Club."

"I'm fine, Papa, really!" protested Barabell as she tried to stand. She yelped as she stepped on her injured paw. Club approached her, holstering his weapon on his back and scooping the vixen up in his arms.

"Take 'er to Moggs," ordered Rangum as he began to track where the remaining Juskalaith had gone. "I'll be back."

Club nodded and obeyed, taking Barabell in another direction. Barabell squirmed, ignoring the pain in her body as she called after her father.

"Papa! I can 'elp! Please! I'm fine! Papa!"

The youngster's voice faded the farther away Rangum got. He frowned deeply. Barabell's humiliation had not been lost on him. She wanted to impress him so badly and earn her Juskanock markings. Perhaps, had the Juskalaith not interfered, she might have bested him. Such a strange concept, a fox hiding in a tree. In hindsight, Lunger Longtail should have been a clue. Rangum shook his head, and focused on his current task. Clumsy walkers, these Juskalaith were. They had kicked up leaf litter without a care in the world.

"Should've come 'ere an' faced me yerself, Crabcull," muttered Rangum under his breath. "Then again, you always did like makin' others do yer dirty work for ye. Coward."

Falling silent, Rangum pressed on, sticking close to the trees and shrubs to hide himself. His fur fluffed at a sudden breeze. A bit of down drifted from a roosting bird; for a moment, Rangum thought it to be snow. The first day of winter would be upon the Juskanock soon. The fox gritted his teeth as he recalled Moggs' words that night two autumn's prior. What a fine time for Crabcull to make trouble when he had other things to worry about.

[eagle-writes]

The first rule of electrical safety is to be yourself and have fun @supreme-leader-stoat

Ink: Diamine Moon Beam

Who wants to see how the previous owners of my house plugged in the microwave

[poeticmindsemporium]

The Coat in the Corner

On a long, narrow road that lead out of town

There stands and old public house, the old Rose and Crown

Used by many for many a year

For the genial conversation the Whisky and Beer

Old Mavis the barmaid now long past her best

Still has a great smile and rapport with each guest

Jim Inchcliff, the Landlord has seen them all come and go

Those who for years had struggled through the deep winter Snow

Just to partake a Real Ale and an old stale Pork Pie

That seemed to have been on the bar for many a blink of an eye

Old Rover, Jim’s dog, must be twenty years old or more

Who hardy ever moved seemed stuck to the floor

The old sign creaked when the strong wind did blow

What with that and the noise from the resident Black Crow

Who lived in the eaves and had nested there for years

And had seen all the comes and goings, the laughter and tears

But the strangest situation that no one could fathom out

Was in the old Snug Bar, amongst the Brown Ale and Stout

For over in the corner was an old khaki army coat

That belonged to old Barney the right reverend Stoat

Who had been Vicar of the Parish for over year’s five score and ten

Who disappeared suddenly one dark stormy night?

In the wind and the hail that gave everyone a fright

Such was its ferocity with trees falling down

Making it impossible to drive cars in or out of town

The rain was lashing, river swelled up, broke its banks

Flowing freely like water escaping from tanks

Causing a local mine to capsize underground trapping men deep below

Were they alive or dead, it was hard to know

Rescue teams worked all through the night and next day

Saving many as they could, though a few perished away

Now old Barney may have been the town vicar but unbeknown to all

Was in fact a war hero in both wars you know a man who stood tall

No stranger to danger so rushed to the Miners aid

To offer what assistance he could while the wives wept and prayed

No one realized that he had gone down with the rescue teams

As the water rushed in bringing down the large heavy beams

That propped up the pit face, to keep them safe from harm

But now was disintegrating causing great alarm

However, the rescue was completed and thankfully everyone survived

Or so everyone thought until they realized one had died

The poor vicar had given his life to help those in need

And no one ever forgot the Reverends brave deed

That is why the old coat hangs in pride of place

Over in the corner by the big fireplace

Nobody has wanted to remove it as a mark of respect for one who died

Trying to save others whose name was always talked about with pride

So if you travel to Old Romney a town of note

Always remember, never to remove that old coat

From that bar where it’s been for many a year

For it’s a sign to others of what unselfish, real heroes are so just shed a tear

[gallusrostromegalus]

the 'Kon :)' in the list of things you're pleased about in aeiwam has be EXCITED please tell us more (if you want to)!

Soon after Masaki died, Isshin Kurosaki moved his family. It's mostly because the original clinic didn't feel haunted- if Masaki's spirit were still here, Isshin would know what to do, but instead he felt like his heels were dogged by the hole where she used to be.

It didn't hurt that the new place was larger, in a better school district, and closer to his friend Ryukken. He's almost feeling cheerful about the new place when Ichigo runs up the stairs and from room to room before calling dibs on one, because he's a big kid now and doesn't want to sleep where he has to listen to his dad snoring all night >:(.

Isshin felt slightly less cheerful when he looked out the big window in Ichigo's room to determine if he needs to put up some child safety grates, and realized their new neighbor was a taxidermist.

"I feel like it gives them a sort of dignity- A Life After Life, if you will." she said when he went by to make sure his neighbor was only eccentric and not something out of a horror movie. He wasn't entirely sure which, actually- Ms. Tanaka was an octogenarian with skin like tissue paper and a back like a question mark, but her living room was a veritable zoo of reconstituted animals, many of them former pets, if the number of domestic cats was anything to go by.

"Oh. Yeah!" Isshin grinned, terrified, and was struck by the idea of some goon in the 12th division slavering in the afterlife, desperate for her to shuffle off the mortal coil and bring her undoubted skills with dead bodies to R&D. "We've always been very spiritual people."

(Continued under the readmore)

"Oh, just like the nice young man who used to live in your house!" said Ms. Tanaka, sitting down in her armchair that was adorned by an ostentatious past-tense peacock perched on the back. "Odd fellow. Worked nights, spoke like he was born in the Sengoku Era or something, but very nice."

"He's BEAUTIFUL!" said Ichigo, staring in awe at an enormous Ginger Tabby Cat by the window, mounted in repose on a emerald velvet cat bed. Ms. Tanaka had done an excellent job conveying a sense of benevolent egotism on his whiskered face, but Ichigo's growing fascination with the Macabre was beginning to worry his father- Ichigo had seen the taxidermy stoat in the back window and INSISTED on coming along.

"Isn't he?" beamed Ms. Tanaka. "His name is Bostov! He was my very best friend for many years."

"Wow! Can I pet him?" Ichigo asked, eyes wide with delight.

"Ichigo, that's uh- that's not a real kitty-" Isshin began to sputter.

"Of course he's a real kitty!" Ms. Tanaka laughed, a noise like an ungreased gate. "You can pet him if you're very gentle." Ichigo stroked the deceased animal with exceptional delicacy for an overexcited Kindergartner. "He's so soft!" he gasped.

"Do you like him?" asked Ms. Tanaka.

"I LOVE HIM!" Said Ichigo, cheeks flushed and eyes bright for the first time in months now. Perhaps having a distant relative of the Addams family for a neighbor isn't so bad, if her creepy hobby cheers Ichigo up... Isshin sighed.

"In that case, why don't you take him home with you?" Smiled Ms. Tanaka. "I'm sure he'll be a good friend to you too."

"UH." Isshin blurted out, nearly spilling his tea on a flock of quail under the side-table.

"I have SO MANY friends in my home with me- it's bordering on a fire hazard!" Ms. Tanaka chuckled. "I'd be delighted to send him to a home where he'll be loved. Please- consider him my housewarming present!"

"CAN WE? CAN WE TAKE HIM HOME? PLEASE DAD??PLEEEEEEEASE-!!" Ichigo asked, stars in his eyes.

Isshin froze, horrified at the prospect of having... That. In his house. Watching him. ...and at the same time, completely unwilling to dash his little boy's dreams.

"yEaH oKaY." Isshin grimaced, soaked in a cold sweat.

*****

Bostov The Former Cat was bad enough, but at least the taxidermy beast 'lived' on Ichigo's bedroom dresser and not down in the living room where Isshin would have to look at it's green glass eyes, which seemed to follow him around the room. It wasn't right having a hollow thing in the house like that- any wandering spirit could decide to climb in there! He resolved to have it warded, but Kisuke said he was on a trip to the Caribbean for "Botanical Research" , and wouldn't be back until "After the Big Holiday on the 20th". Isshin hung up the phone, groaned and rubbed his face. It was fairly late, and he was still at the kitchen table, going through all of the licensing paperwork to get the clinic up and running.

"Hey Dad?" Ichigo asked, holding up a small plastic toy. "What's 'Soul Candy'?"

"Soul Cand-?" Isshin frowned, turned to look at the toy and nearly jumped out of his skin, swiping it away from the boy. "WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS? DID YOU EAT ANY??"

"...it was upstairs, in the back of my closet." Ichigo pouted. "-and no, I didn't eat any strange closet candy. I'm not stupid."

"Oh thank the Gods..." Isshin sighed, sitting back down at the table and shaking the small, duck-headed pill dispenser. Empty. "-I'm sorry I yelled Ichigo, but this is Very Dangerous stuff."

Ichigo arched an incredulous Eyebrow at him. "Really? Is this the same kind of dangerous that the half my Halloween candy you confiscated and ate was?"

"Ah- well. No. That was Dad Tax. This is actually dangerous. Here, come sit with me a minute." he pulled out the other chair at the kitchen table. "Remember how I told you about the ghost that lived in my attic when I was your age?"

"The Shinigami?" Ichigo asked.

Isshin did not *enjoy* lying to his children, but a little knowledge was a dangerous thing, and not enough even more so, so he'd concocted a little fantasy to explain why he knew all about ghosts and why the children never saw their grandparents, so he could tell them about the dangers of this world without telling them too much.

"That's right- His name was Kaien Shiba, and he was a Soul Reaper. At night, he'd turn into a ghost and leave his body behind, and go escort spirits to the afterlife or fight hollows." Isshin said. he'd named the fictional soul reaper after his favorite nephew in a fit of inspiration- he'd started telling Ichigo a tale from his days as a Shinigami one night after slightly too many drinks and had to convince Ichigo that that was only a distant acquaintance.

"...Like what killed Mom." Ichigo muttered.

"Um. Yeah." Isshin nodded.

They were silent for a moment.

"-Anyway, the way he turned into a ghost was that he'd swallow one of these little candies that would come in these tubes-" Isshin pulled the duck's head back to show Ichigo the mechanism. "-and Poof! he'd jump out of his body as a ghost so he could use magic to save people! But-there was a little soul inside the candy that would come out and take care of his body while he was away! Like a babysitter, but for his own butt! After a few hours, the little soul would stop working, and Kain would be home to climb back in."

Ichigo blinked at the mechanism, thinking. "So. There's a little person in these candies?"

"If there were any in here, yeah." Said Isshin. "They're not like. Whole people. Just little collages of behaviors and phrases. You know, like the fake voice that talks on the phone when you call to refill a prescription!" Ichigo frowned, considering something. "...There weren't any candies in this thing, were there?" Isshin asked, suspicious.

"No." Said Ichigo, frowning at him. "It'd be really lonely, being just a little soul, stuck in a candy, wouldn't it?" he asked.

"I suppose so, but I don't think the little souls are aware while they're in there. It's like being asleep for them." Isshin shrugged, lying to himself as much as his son about that.

Ichigo still frowned. "...What happens if the candy goes into a body without a soul in it? Like a dead body?" "Huh." Isshin frowned. "I dunno, actually. I guess the little soul would run around and operate it for a while, until it faded out, like it did with a normal body?"

Ichigo nodded, still preoccupied.

"Why?" Isshin tried.

"...No reason." Ichigo muttered, kicking his little feet. "Just thinking."

"Alright. Promise me if you find anything else weird or see any random candies to not touch them and tell me right away, okay?"

"Yeah okay." Ichigo nodded, only sort of paying attention. "I'm gonna go to bed. G'night dad." he muttered, getting up from the table and handing the dispenser to Isshin before giving him a quick hug and stomping up the stairs.

Isshin watched him go, aching a bit. I wondered how old he was gonna be when he started keeping secrets from me. He sighed, looking down at the Soul Candy Dispenser. Not that I'm being a Paragon of Honesty for him to follow...

---

"GIRLS? ICHIGO? HAVE ANY OF YOU SEEN MY STETHOSCOPE?" Isshin hollered, searching fruitlessly under the couch cushions.

"NO!" Hollered Karin from where she and Yuzu were playing in the small front yard.

"TRY ICHIGO'S ROOM, HE TOOK A BUNCH OF LAUNDRY UP TO SORT." called Yuzu.

"THANKS GIRLS!" he called back stomping up the stairs. Ichigo was at karate- he'd finally returned to classes, or at least, Tatsuki had finally physically dragged him back into the Dojo. "Man I hope I didn't put it through the washing machine-" he muttered, opening the door to the boy's room and started searching through the basket of laundry on his bed.

Isshin stopped, and stood up, frowning around the room. Something was off.

Ichigo was a tidy boy, somehow, and his room was usually in order save for whatever video game he had out to play and the bed he never made but... Isshin turned fully around trying to figure out what was off before his eyes finally landed on the top of the Dresser.

The Emerald Green Velvet Cat bed, home of Bostov The Cat, was empty.

"Did he take the cat out of the bed to play with?" Isshin wondered aloud, hoping that that, and not several other horrible scenarios, was what was happening. He could hear Karin and Yuzu giggling through the window, and he peeked down at them- they appeared to be having a tea party on the thin strip of grass, and the guest of honor amongst the dolls and stuffed animals was a familiar-looking ginger tabby. "Oh! The GIRLS took him out to play with." he sighed with relief, leaning against the window to watch them.

...and watch a strange man approaching down the street, who stopped at the garden fence. Isshin frowned- maybe he was just watching the girls play, in a normal, wholesome way like he was doing right now. ...or he could be taking candy out of his pocket and waving the girls to come through the gate.

Isshin jumped on the bed, tore open the window with such force it jumoed out of it's track and was halfway out to jump down at the man from the second floor when the most EXTRAORDINARY thing happened.

Bostov, Who by all accounts had been deceased for the better part of a decade and was made of little more than a skin and some glass stretched over a wood-and-cotton frame, Suddenly leapt up from his chair, claws and teeth drawn like swords and leapt upon the man, battering him visciously with a stream of einvective so foul it made Isshin's barrack-hardened linguistic sensibilities blush, before chasing him back down the street like a short, furious, ass-seeking missile.

"GIRLS!" he shouted, jumping down anyway. "-ARE YOU OKAY?"

"DON'T GET MAD AT ICHIGO OR KON!!" Shouted Yuzu, tears in her eyes.

"...ichigo or who?" Isshin blinked.

"Way to spill the beans, Yuzu." Karin groaned. "Yeah Dad, we're FINE- Kon was here, he'll beat the crap out of anything."

"Who's Kon?" Isshin repeated.

"HEY DAD." Shouted Ichigo, skidding into the garden in his karate gi, and out of breath, clutching an unconvincingly stiff Mr. Bostov under his arm. "SO. UH- WELL MR. BOSTOV CAN MOVE NOW. FOR SOME REASON."

"Uh-huh?" Isshin glared at the cat, who glanced away nervously. "Why do you think that is?"

"...it's a Christmas Miracle?" Tried Ichigo.

"Ichigo, it's fucking April." groaned Karin.

"...Passover?" tried Ichigo.

"-This wouldn't have anything to do with that Soul Candy Dispenser you found, would it?"

"uhhhhhhh..." said Ichigo. Honesty might not have been one of the boy's virtues, but at least he was a terrible liar.

"PLEASE DADDY DON'T GET ANGRY!!" Sobbed Yuzu, throwing herself around his calf and wailing. "MR. KON IS THE MOST NICEST KITTY IN THE WHOLE WORLD! HE PLAYS TEA TIME AND DRESS-UP WITH US AND TELLS JOKES AND CHASES AWAY DOGS AND SCARY MEN AND HE ALWAYS WAKES UP ICHIGO WHEN HE'S HAVING A NIGHTMARE-!"

"Yeah, actually, Kon's like. the first thing to make me laugh since. Well." Mumbled Karin, plodding over to Isshin's other leg and leaning heavily on him. "Please? he's weird, but he's a good guy."

Isshin sighed, then glared back down at the cat. "Alright. Who are you?" he demanded.

Ichigo and the formerly immobile cat glanced at each other and the feline unfolded as Ichigo set him down, shaking himself out and sitting on the walkway.

"So, uh- Hi. My name's Kon. Kon Bostov, if you wanna be formal, in honor of the beast whose body I currently inhabit." He nodded, waving a paw evocatively. "-And, uh. Well, how much do you know about the afterlife?"

"-Being from a long line of psychic mediums and prone to hauntings, my parents rented out our attic to a Shinigami when I was a child, and he told me pretty much everything." Said Isshin, and Kon winced. "So. Is 'Kon' short for 'Mod Konpaku'?"

"Ehh... well, Yeah." Kon winced. "-But hey! It wasn't my idea to be cooked up in a lab by some maniac and then put to death minutes later for something I didn't even do!" he snarled, fur bristling.

"What?" asked Karin.

"Kids I- Look, I didn't mean to lie, there just wasn't a good time to bring it up but. Technically, I'm wanted by the law. I'm an artificial soul created for battle to be put into dead bodies, but literally four and a half minutes after I woke up, the soul society- where all the Shinigami are from- condemned me to die, because they didn't like how strong some of the other Mod Souls were. I managed to roll myself off of the table and into a box of normal bodyminders to hide, Got put in a dispenser and then the shinigami that had been here accidentally left me behind." Kon explained.

"COOL!" Shouted Karin.

"NOT COOL. BAD!" Shouted Isshin. "Okay, okay I- I mean you're right, I never- I mean, the way Kaien told it, the whole Mod Soul program was pretty shady and it sounded really unfair. But why would a Shinigami just leave an important and dangerous tool lying around?"

"...I don't know how much spiritual sense you have my guy, but this town doesn't have a Hollow problem so much as the Hollowpocalylse goin' on." Kon grimaced. "-I really hope that guy's okay, he seemed pretty cool from what I could tell. I don't actually remember hearing him get called back to soul society." Kon muttered. "-Anyway, about three weeks ago, your brother found me in the dispenser in the back of his closet and put my candy body into this taxidermy cat, and I've been hanging out with the kids since then! You know, like a cat is supposed to do!"

Isshin stared blankly at Kon. The girls hugged his legs, lips wobbling, but he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, firming up his resolve- no matter how nice he seemed, a Mod Soul was a dangerous thing- and one crafty enough to live right under his nose for the better part of a month? No, absolutely n-

Isshin opened his eyes to see Ichigo had picked up Kon, cradling the cat to his tiny body, eyes wide and beginning to glisten with tears.

"...Ah. What the hell. You make the kids laugh." Isshin sighed, and all four cheered, thanking him profusely and promising to be extra-good and take good care of Kon- "But you put so much as a Whisker out of line and you're in deep trouble, got it?" Isshin leaned into the cat's face, scowling menacingly and shaking his finger at Kon.

"Understood sir!" Kon Saluted. "So when's dinner? Ichigo's been sneaking me scraps but I could really go for some chicken, or maybe ham-" he asked, tail thrashing excitedly.

"You can eat?" Isshin asked. "I thought you were all... Whatever they stuff taxidermy animals with?"

"-Might've been, but I'm all complete now? Fluff, guts, claws-the works!" Kon shrugged, hopping up on Isshin's shoulder. "-Between you an' me, I ain't even neutered! But that ain't a problem- Plenty of hot pussy around, if you know what I mean, especially that sweet little tuxedo bobtail just up the street- Me-YOW, huh?"

"Oh gods." Groaned Isshin, covering his face. "What am I letting into my house?"

"An intact male cat is called a 'Tom' Dad." Karin called over her shoulder.

"Alright Kon, a few rules- No more swearing in front of the kids, no bringing ladies around the house and for goodness sake DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE HERE!" Isshin snarled at him.

"Alright, alright!" Kon sighed, rolling his eyes. "Out of curiosity though- What rank was your guy Kaien?"

"Hm?" Isshin asked.

"Only that I thought only the captains and a few lieutenants ever knew about project Spearhead." Kon glanced at Isshin, arching an orange-striped brow at him. "-funny thing, having a seated officer doing routine patrols, isn't it?"

"I dunno?" Shrugged Isshin, trying to keep his shoulders from tensing up, "-He didn't actually tell me all that much about how the soul society is governed."

"Huh." Kon nodded, smirking just a bit. "Interestin' guy, this Kaien. You should tell me about him sometime!"

"KOOOOONN!" Yuzu called. "My Dollie's shoe got under the fridge!"

"Coming Sweetie!" Kon called, jumping off Isshin's shoulder to reach his skinny little cat arm under the fridge and swat the missing accessory out from under the appliance. Yuzu applauded with delight and hugged him, laughing for the first time in ages.

Isshin watched them play for a bit and sighed. He not a bad guy, this Kon. All the same- Isshin took out his phone and dialed a number.

"~Urahara Shoten, home of Karkura Town's finest Candies, Cell Phones and Card Games! I'm on sabbatical 'til the end of the month or so, so if it's an emergency, hang up and call the Kurosaki Clinic! Or die! If it's not an emergency, leave me a message with what you need and I'll hook you up when I get back! Bye!~" Urahara's voicemail recording sing-sang over the line.

"Kisuke. It's me, Isshin. You will not fucking believe what my kids found in the new house. Call me as soon as you get back."