FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Scorched plants. Crackling air. Singed fur along the fringes of my scuffed dress. It's almost impressive, churning up the acrid smells of a battlefield with only a single, stubborn kitty left for opposition. A hotheaded rookie, at that. It speaks to just how potent that magic deep within her lithe body is, that it's causing us this much trouble, especially when she can't even wield it properly without channelling it through that infernal hand cannon on her wrist. A shame she crossed us, truly... I'd have loved to see what that gift of hers could do under our wing.

Still, she's not making this easy, darting every which way, firing an entire volley at every standstill. An open clearing makes for easy territory to kite us out, even with several of my underlings left to try and deal with her. A wolven vanguard gets in range, only for her to kick right off his poleax and fire back. Our benefactor takes aim with his own magic, but wherever she stood, the moment's long since passed. If she keeps up like this, every last one of us will be whittled down to nothing, and she knows it, the reckless markswoman.

It's that same reckless behaviour that would lead her to forget that my bear of a bodyguard exists.

Even as he raises that shield of his, so thick and heavy it may as well be a vault door, she's occupied herself with cracking a wry smile and taking further electrical potshots at my flank. They sting, yes... but she'll know that sort of pain herself all too soon as the ursine's shield craters the ground, rending the earth asunder beneath her footing, and giving her one last change of position, this time against her wishes. Now a few paces in front of me, limbs quivering as she struggles to right herself, there's only one thing left to do... begin my leisurely approach.

"Oh, dear girl... this would've been so much easier if you just picked the winning side. We can't all be winners, but there's better things to die for than some idealist fantasy."

"Grrr... at least I'm n-not giving myself up to some... some FREAK from who-knows-where, all for that nasty, oozing muck you call 'power'... g-god, my legs..."

"And look where that line of logic has gotten us. You and your boastful army, beaten into the dirt... while we still stand, that 'power' you derided still rippling through your body from the impact." Even as the words leave me, a casted glance towards my bodyguard makes it clear his eyes and shield are still radiating that beautiful pinkish-purple glow we've grown so familiar with. A smirk crosses his lips, looking over his handiwork. Good... I like it when my darlings know how to have a little fun. It's time for some of my own, at any rate...

"But we're getting ahead of ourselves, dear, I'm sure you know what's next after seeing what happened to the others... yes?" At that, the tremors in her body are replaced with tension, every part of her seizing up in realization. All the better for my next step, as I begin tracing patterns in my hand, each finger tingling with that same wondrous light. In response, the cracked ground beneath our quarry begins sprouting, marked with the power I was gifted so graciously by our hooded benefactor. One by one, the blackened vines wrap themselves around her limbs, working their way inward... and once they're well in place, she's lifted up before me like a doll on strings. She's trying so hard to put on a brave face, even though it may as well just be the two of us here, in this moment. Adorable~

"See, dear, the battlefield just isn't suited for you. Not with your reliance on that trinket you call a weapon. You know what role I think would suit you better, kitty?"

"...l-like I have a choice, bitch, get it over wi- hngh, a-aahhh...!" I take careful note to let the vines work their way to her throat. Dig in just a little, let her know she doesn't need that old gadget anymore... not with what she's about to experience.

"Hush now. It was rhetorical, anyways. That dapper green longcoat, those boots, even those bright, puffy twintails... all of it would make you an extravagant floral display. My best yet. If only I could keep you..."

"H-HNNNGH!" Struggling. A useless display, precious all the same. The buds on the vines are beginning to glow and mature, darling... not long now. You'll be beautiful. A delicate, lavender-furred hand makes its way to her cheek, all so I can savor the coming blossoms in full splendor. My perfect, pretty kitty...

"See, dear? This was always how this would end. And you'll be absolutely stunning. For the finest of flowers has left its scent on the air..." Leaning in, resisting the temptation to revel in this closeness to my newest muse, those conclusive words finally pass my lips.

"Death is in-"

"Alright, you dork, are you gonna come up and eat your eggs or not?"

"BLOOOOOOOM?!" Whirling the swivel chair around, I come face-to-face with the kitty who's broken me out of my reverie.

"C-Clover?! I was-"

"Being absolutely adorable while kicking all sorts of ass in our little game? I thought so." Nyeh... she's right, but could she at least say it in a way that doesn't make me blush even harder than I already was?

"First place, too? Well, I'll be damned... you've really taken to that wolven sorceress. Not a very expensive unit, yet you're still running circles around high-cost enemy carries. You get an idea in your head and stick with it 'til you can make it work, don'tcha, Bone~?"

"...maybe. It's just, she looked so cool in the previews, I got obsessive over the little tweaks I could make, and well, um. Here we are." That results screen keeps staring me in the face. My carefully-tuned army composition, coming out on top. Even through Clover's teasing, her impressed comments are genuine. I know that well. How I wish I could say that was the only thing on my mind, even as an awkwardly-positioned embrace around my shoulders has her nuzzling into my ear.

It's been a week or two since I first moved in. In that time, I've made sure to keep practicing whenever Clover doesn't need her computer. While I can run the game just fine on my laptop, there's something about the feeling of being at a desk in a comfy chair for this sort of thing. Regardless, I've grown quite familiar with the desk her setup is on, and... ohhhh, I hadn't noticed it before, but there's scratches in the wood. Thin ones, like claw marks. A week ago, there were already a lot of them, but they seemed dull and old. Now? There's fresh, abrasive gashes in the desk. I don't know what to make of this. Is Clover okay...?

"Clover. Do you mind if I ask something?"

"Hm? What's up, big gal? Bit of a serious tone for what you've just accomplished." The embrace ends, but her hand never leaves my shoulder. An anchor, trying to anticipate any support I'll need. One of the qualities I cherish the most about her.

"I know, but... is everything alright? You've seemed fine, but I can't help but feel like you're really... tense, I suppose. Like something's driving you up a wall, but I have no idea what it is."

"H-Hah, no Bonnie, that's nothing you need to worry about. Seriously, it's gonna be-" I didn't want to do this, but she's leaving me no choice. One mark. Two marks. We'll see how many fresh ones my fingers need to run over on the desk's telltale carvings before she gets the point.

"...dammit."

"I'm no fool, Clover. And I want to help. Any way I can, no matter how small. You've done so much for me, and even if you hadn't, well..." I rise out of the chair, take a step forward, and return the embrace she gave me a minute ago.

"I love you, hun. No matter what. So if there's anything I can do about this... please tell me, okay?" If there's any way to make her understand, I hope this is it. If not... I'm not sure what it'll take. What lengths I'll need to go to.

"Bonnie... haaaaah, look, it's... it's just work stuff. Projects, deadlines, sudden shifts in my workload. It shouldn't be a big deal. I shouldn't be making it a big deal. And it's nothing you need to see, especially when I'm... like that. I get it all taken care of when you're away, usually. I've got it under control, I have to. So for what you can do... can I ask that you just keep being yourself? I mean it every time I say that you're precious, or adorable, or my little angel. You're probably the best thing to happen to me in a while, all things considered."

"Oh, Clover... hehee..." That wry smile, paired with a few gentle rubs at my neck... all signs leading up to the kiss she gave me not even five seconds later. I'm getting better at being able to tell what she intends to do to me, I'd like to think. I'm not sure what to call the feeling, except... excited~

"So there. Just let me take care of everything, and it'll be smooth sailing, 'kay? You've got other things to worry about regardless... especially since it's half past seven and you've not even eaten yet." Oh. Ohhhhhh no, oh god, oh geez, I-

"F-Fair point, love you Clover, gotta gooooooo!" With that, my marathon sprint begins. It's a good thing I got dressed before trying for my morning practice, or this'd be even worse. It's hard enough getting used to a new routine and commute without losing track of the time. Stairwell ascended, stop by the bathroom to double-check the hair. Nothing egregious? Move on. Veer around the couch to the dining room table, absolutely wolf down the delicious, lovingly-made eggs with a hint of pepper (scrambled, not fried, thank you so much Clover), make a final pass towards my purse on the way back through the living room, get the shoes on, and OUT the door we go!

It's a bit different, seeing the new home turf of Clover's neighborhood pass by in a blur. Normally I allow myself some time to enjoy the sights, get everything more committed to memory, but my own flights of fancy have made today's timing all the slimmer. My bus ride to work is a bit longer thanks to my change of accommodations, and the departure times are a bit later due to being near the end of the route. Not a huge problem on its own, but it also means any leeway I had before is pretty much gone; there's no way I'll get to work on time if I miss this next bus. That anxiety pushes my legs to bound forward, one arm swinging for momentum as the other braces my purse against me. The passersby have enough to dodge with me barreling down the sidewalk, the last thing they need added to their day is something that could qualify as a blunt weapon swinging around me.

Though I cut it close, the bus has only just begun accepting passengers by the time I reach the stop. I'm sure I look ridiculous right now, panting and gasping, wishing I'd brought a water bottle with me, but at least I can rest easy now. No more sprinting. Just the usual ride to my stop for work, all while I can relax again. Just let the scenery scroll by at a much more pleasing speed... while resisting the urge to hack up a lung. I may be what qualifies for "in shape" to the extent an office worker can be, but a sprint over the course of what would be a ten-minute walk or so? I have LIMITS, good grief!

My arrival at the office is far more mundane, thank goodness. ...though, I can't say work has been all that mundane, either. Kylie's here, after all, and though she's willing to banter like usual, she's been dodging questions left and right about her reaction weeks ago. To be honest, it... kind of hurts. Knowing someone dear to you is hurting in some way, but they don't feel safe confiding in you. Every time, without fail, Kylie gets closed off and takes on a visual akin to an emotional dam just barely holding something back from surfacing. I just don't get it. Is it because two of her friends are dating, more focused on each other now? A fear of being left behind would make sense, but... I want her to know I'd never forget her like that, if only she'd let me get close again, because at this rate... a fear like that may become self-fulfilling.

Morning patrols, average routines, new clients with even newer requests. It's nothing more than an average day, but it makes me grateful for the work everyone does here. Jill and Charlotte have been a dream team off in designs, and even through the discomfort, Kylie's been pouring her all into the logistics side of things. It occasionally makes me wonder if I'm doing enough in my position, but hey, SOMEONE has to keep everything running smoothly for them. They deserve the best conditions I can give.

As for my own conditions, not much has changed. Well, not much besides removing my picture frame for now. I ought not give the wrong impression, given I've long since stored away my wedding ring. No doubt some coworkers have noticed already, and Jill's probably gotten the gist from Kylie, knowing those two nowadays, but everyone else has had the courtesy to leave the matter be. Another comfort in these uncertain times of change.

Break passes by quickly. Kylie's been a no-show for it a few times since that day, and today is no different. Whatever's eating at her, I hope she can at least confide in Jill. I'm not sure what the extent of their relationship is, but they may as well be dating, so it would do me some good to know that Jill can be a pillar for Kylie while she's hurting so. So long as I can take comfort in that, I can finish the evening's work. Just another round of patrols first, and then I'll-

...oh. O-Oh dear. Rippling aches, though minor. A bit of my focus, slipping. And above all, a restless, warm feeling, just lit, ready to be stoked into a blaze. It's that time of the month again... my heat. No big deal at this point, thanks to modern medicine putting a cork in it before people's scents can start broadcasting in earnest. Catch it early, take a suppressant, and go on birth control and additional suppressant pills for the coming week, longer if your body got unlucky with puberty or genetics. I'm a bit more average, thankfully, but... ooooh, I'd rather not take these besides the suppressants, even if that'd be foolish. Thinking on it, I wonder if it looks strange, taking birth control when I'm in a relationship with another woman. With Clover's situation, though, I still have to consider it, even if... huh. I'm actually not sure how her medications affect her fertility. Never thought to ask during the talk back then, I suppose. I really should've discussed this with Clover when we first established how things would work, but this... this all just felt so embarrassing and personal to bring up, and I didn't want to scare her off with that. Who knows if she'd even want to be a parent... I knew that'd be a possibility this whole time, but it's still nerve-wracking to consider addressing it with her. I don't want to lose her like this... no. No more thinking like that, Bonnie. You JUST lectured Clover on this sort of thing, what good is your advice if you can't follow it yourself? Just take the pills, get back to work like nothing's changed, and deal with this tonight, no matter what.

Now, with everything taken care of, the rest of the work day is gone in a flash. I've done everything I can to enable what's working and patch up what isn't. All I can do now is go home, believing tomorrow will go just as well, if not better. I usually expect that logic of others, too, but today is a bit different for a few familiar faces.

"Oh Bonnie, dear! Just a few minutes of your time before you scurry off for the night, yes?"

"C-Charlotte, please, I can talk to her just fine. ...b-but thanks." Oh my. Seems our dream team over in graphic design has some matters that need tending to. Hopefully nothing major, but hey, wouldn't be the first time I've been stuck here after my shift should be over. Despite her vocal enthusiasm, Charlotte's posture is tense, and Jill's not faring much better. Not that her being the dictionary definition of nervousness is any big news around here, but still.

"Oh? Is there something you two need? I sent the greenlight through for the recent sketches already, if that's what you're worried about."

"Oh, no, this is more... p-personal, Miss Bonnie. Have you... talked with Kylie recently? N-No, other way around, has Kylie talked with YOU recently...?"

"Hm...? Well, we still have our chats on lunch break. ...when she shows up, anyway. She's been spotty recently, and whatever's bothering her, she's not keen on letting me be privy to it." At that, her nervous tension fades a bit, but its replacement of drooping ears, shoulders, and tail may be worse than what we started with. Oh dear... just what has Kylie been keeping from me?

"I see... oh well, then... have things been going alright for you and Miss Clover?"

"Ah, I'm guessing Kylie told you? Don't you worry, Jill, we're both doing wonderfully. She's under some pressure from her job right now, but she says it'll pass. Our new arrangement's been like a dream, otherwise."

"Really? Oh, I-I'm so glad... you don't mind if I let Kylie know, do you? I can't imagine she's brought the... s-situation up much, but I think she'd be relieved to hear it's going well." Ahhhhh. Maybe it really is just fear for her friends' stability. Having to take a workaround like this is strange indeed, but Kylie's been impossible to approach directly about the matter. And who could say no to that hopeful gleam in those golden eyes?

"That should be just fine. She'll be willing to hear that information from you, at least, so I hope you'll see to it she gets some relief from all this."

"O-Of course! I'll get going right now, she... well, she probably headed out already, but she's not hard for me to find. See you tomorrow, Miss Bonnie?"

"Mmhm! See you then, Jill." With a little pep added to her step, she bounds off toward the elevator, likely headed straight for Kylie's apartment. That's that, then. ...or, I assumed it was, in my moment of distraction. An orange-furred arm barring the way through my office door has reminded me that there were indeed two people demanding my attention. Charlotte's loosened up a bit after Jill left all pleased, but the way she's carrying herself is no less serious than before. What she could possibly be in this kind of mood over, I have no idea.

"Oh, apologies, Charlotte. Got a bit focused on- well, nevermind, you saw it, I saw it, so just... what can I help you with?"

"Simple, dear. My inquiry is much the same as Jill's, but in a different vein. I can guess from what you already said, but just to be sure, has Kylie approached you with something important? A sudden admission, or any matter with a bit of gravitas to it, whatever works."

"Um... no? Nothing like that, she's kept it to small talk. What's this about, Charlotte?" Ears twitching a bit, she shakes her head in a rare moment of what seems like... disapproval? Disappointment? One of those. Can't say I'm used to seeing Charlotte in any sort of mood but bubbly and affectionate.

"Not my place to say, Bonnie. Just... keep this in mind. If she ever DOES come forward, needing to have a serious talk... hear her out, would you? No matter what it is."

"Well, yes, of course. Why wouldn't I?" A hint of a smile has snuck its way onto her muzzle, her stance finally returning to something less guarded, her fluffy tail swaying in thought, and a finger raised to her lips as if to mime silence. There's the Charlotte I know.

"Now, now, dear... loose lips are inadvisable in my sort of side hustle, you know? I'll see you again tomorrow... so don't forget a word I've said. And if anything should come up? My door- well, desk- is always open."

"Hm? If you're sure, I suppose... see you later, Charlotte." A playful wave, and she's sauntering through the office, stopping to pick up her things. Whatever she was implying, I'm not sure I have any fewer questions than before. Might've added a couple dozen more to that count, too. Best not to dwell on it and just head home; I've idled here long enough, Clover ought to be able to come upstairs to a comforting meal after her shift today. The relaxed journey home begins, and it ends before I can work myself into a tizzy over Charlotte's vague musings. Home at last, I close the door behind me and-

...a crash? From downstairs? Clover must be- ...oh no. Discarding my purse in haste, I rush down the stairs, not bothering to get my shoes off. Clover's either hurt herself, dropped something, or... o-or... something else. Ohhhh dear. As my fingers curl around the door handle, my thoughts keep racing. Thoughts of what she's going through, of whether she even wants me there right now. I can't just... LEAVE her like this, though, I'm- I'm supposed to be there for her, like she's been for me! Some measure of resolve being imbued in my arm, I finally turn the doorknob... and am met with the sort of scene I've only been witness to the aftermath of.

"Oh. Hey, Bonnie..." A disaster zone, likely cleaned up before I get home most days, is laid out before me. The can of pencils and pens has been scattered across the opposite side of the room from her work station, there's fresh gashes in the desk I can see from all the way over here, and Clover... Clover's laid in bed, with eyes so lifeless it'd be insufficient to liken them to those of a fish at the market.

"Clover... what happened? Work troubles?"

"Troubles? Sure, let's go with that. If you can call the constant breathing down my neck for things I'm not good enough to make properly 'troubles.'"

"W-What? Clover, I've seen your work, every piece has looked amazing! What makes this any different?"

"...who says it's any different? This is business as usual. Whatever crap I can throw their way to squeeze by, that's what they get. Every single bit of work you've seen has been rife with stuff I couldn't get right. It's just a matter of how long I can fake it before I need to find a new dev team willing to take me." ...w-was that the wrong question? She's still laying back, but... I'm getting a glare that's piercing right through me, dripping with irritation. I don't get this, are we even looking at the same work, here...?

"You don't need to fake anything, Clover. I may not be well-versed in what all those assets are supposed to look like, or how code is supposed to run, but... it looks good. I swear to you. Why beat yourself up over this, they're not getting rid of you for work that nice."

"I JUST said it's- gah, what's the point? Now or later, Bonnie. It doesn't matter when they figure it out. It's gonna happen. Look at me. Laid out like trash on the curb because the goddamn thing won't compile no matter what I do. And the few times it did? Utterly non-functional. Garbage in, garbage out, like I said."

"No, n-no, Clover, this... that's not, I just- you're worth more than that. Those projects still got done, right? You're not some... some weak link in a chain!" Sheeeee's stood up from the bed. And she's no less pissed. Oh god.

"So what?! It doesn't matter how hard I try, all this shit just keeps happening, over and over! What's next, saying I should get even more coworkers involved? The same people who dumped their shit on me to begin with? For fuck's sake, I'm taking enough of their spew as is, all while I'm falling the fuck apart over work I should be doing without breaking a sweat!!"

"C-Clover, I... I just think, wouldn't they be going through this too...? I know your work's hard, and l-long, so they-"

"So what? If they're in the same boat, they're just as much at risk of being a goddamn turnover statistic. The hell does that help? I just- hrrrrgh, why won't you just- LISTEN, this is...!" Why... why isn't this working? Why won't she listen to me, why won't she believe me...? She's just... collapsing in on herself, clutching her head, her free paw curling in frustration as she-

C-Claws.

They're right there. Glinting from the overhead light. Her left paw, blades fully-extended. What did I do... what have I done? What CAN I do, I just- I made this so much worse, and now... now I'm petrified to the spot. Words won't form. Gestures fall limp. My eyes can't even maintain contact, flitting to her claws again and again, thoughts raising alarm bells I can't respond to. W-What do I do... what do I do, what do I do, w-what-

"The hell is that look for? And what're you looking... a-at..." N-No... is it getting worse? Again?! She's noticed the weaponized position her left paw has taken. Like it could lash out at any time. Every ounce of that overflowing anger and self-resentment is on the fast-track to being converted to utter horror, her eyes growing wide as they slowly refocus on me.

"B-Bonnie... just, just go. Please."

"Clover...?"

"Just GO, okay?! Wherever in the house, anywhere but here, just... get away from me, as far as you can. Please...!"

"...okay, Clover... I'm s-sorry..." As my legs finally start obeying me again, I begin inching away from her. Once I'm finally outside the room, I push the door closed, careful not to disturb her further. What the hell was my plan there...? I started with her being defeated and depressed, and somehow backpedaled it to whatever anger spiral she'd already broken out of. I was less than useless. I'm... what good am I if I can't even help her out of this? She doesn't deserve that pain. If she won't help herself through this, then aren't I supposed to? B-But... I was just... oh, Clover...

Finally upstairs, I'm in no mood to start on dinner. The couch looks inviting, but this feeling... I can't get this fear out of my chest, fear for what's coming. I need... I need to hold her, but I can't. I'll just send her spiraling again. So what can I do...?

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a petit observer to the situation, sitting on the shelf. He's propped up against some game cases, floppy legs dangling over the edge of his perch. My little lamb... if ever there were a time I was grateful to Penn, it'd be now. I'd be lost without this stuffed, patchwork friend of mine. Taking him in my arms, I return to the couch, laying on my side as I hold him close. Legs curled up, arms holding him tight, nuzzling against the soft fabrics... it's just like old times. Even as I lay here, lost on what to do about Clover, how to take her pain away. I know this won't fix anything, but right now, I need this. I need what comfort I can get until the next step.

Because sometimes, even a small comfort's a blessing, one that will bring some peaceful rest later tonight.