Secret Santa 2017 - Vivian Faberfox by GratitudeAdvocate < Submission

Keywords male 1169910, female 1060238, canine 185763, dog 168260, feline 147573, human 106004, feral 89443, hybrid 67173, transformation 41679, demon 38478, raccoon 35931, fantasy 26309, magic 24800, goat 22752, red panda 14462, fennec fox 9962, group 8673, german shepherd 8487, surprise 4681, rule 63 4676, border collie 4584, mutt 4507, automobile 3088, gsd 2811, housecat 2738, accident 2458, androgynous 2208, shock 1373, marijuana 1095, short story 1087, saluki 979, walrus 921, fiction 882, vivian 580, van 512, maxwell 472, telekinesis 460, alchemy 344, afghan hound 281, secretsanta2017 185, telepathy 170, gus 138, bradley 112, maile 79, vivianfaberfox 63, calli 30, eavesdropping 26, flat tire 6, mistressadaira 4, displacement orbs 4, disembodied limb 4, feral times 3

"Hey, you delightful bastards. I have somebody I think you should meet with me right now. I'm gonna bring her on the bus, pronto. Any of you dogs got any beef with that, I suggest you shack up with the roadies back down the line. So! Allow me to introduce to you…"

Maxwell Blackburnadeaux and Bradley Cyphers, hybrid canine musicians and life-long friends, sat alongside each other in a cramped-up bucket seat nestled within their grunge rock group's local touring Econovan, lined with dust and dog hair from years of exposure to the road. They listened to Calli Crimshaw, Brad's saluki girlfriend, speak highly about a new friend she'd met prior to her arrival. The grunge rock band's touring transport and general all-around go-to home-away-from-home had survived quite an ordeal of traveling; of long-winded commutes and red-eye interstate tangos and flat tires aplenty and even a blown exhaust manifold preceded by a failed fuel pump (Gus Stevenson, the band's touring manager and retired auto mechanic, had a rage-induced field day with the clunker while fixing those aggregate little technicalities)… but all in all, she still fights to deliver Enim-Noinu in graceful, sputtering, backfiring smoke-drenched glory to wherever they need to be. Now, Brad and Max rested within her aging decrepit cabin, staring at Calli's breasts (at least that's what Brad was gawking at, not Max, surprisingly) and listening to what she was telling them; something about somebody new she'd met and was about to introduce.

Max said, "Calli, if you met a hooker, I'm sure we'd all be perfectly thrilled to make her acquaintance. And I'm a delightful prick, not a bastard. Get it right." He snickered and yelled, "Isn't that right, Maile??" Max called out through an open window, towards the front of the van where Maile and Gus were performing routine maintenance on the old girl's radiator grille.

Maile grunted and said, "Uh, curse this! Okay, you got it, Gus? Cool, hang on… damn thing." The ram-horned panda-goat-demon hybrid brushed a smudge of oil free from her fuzzy cheek and wiped it against a white towel she'd been holding. She gave Max a critical, stern jaded glowy-eyed gaze that caused gooseflesh to prickle up from beneath his thick raccoon-shepherd fur. "Don't even, bub," Maile said.

"Fuck, I'm kidding! Just a joke!! Take it easy, chica!" Max exclaimed, voice cracking under pressure. Maile's eyes flickered and went dull, green phosphorous glow winking out immediately from sight. She snickered and winked at him, snapping her finger-paws. Max shook his head and rolled his left eye, causing his orange patch to slink along with the movements of his brow. "There, you made me cringe in fear. Fuck. You satisfied now, devil-woman?" Max said, fishing out a twenty-dollar bill from his jean pocket.

"A bet's a bet, mi amigo! Thank you kindly for flinching." Maile said, licking her lips and pocketing the currency slip in a plaid flannel workshirt breast pocket.

Max growled and said, "You ain't fuckin' welcome, little drummer girl. Hey by the way, how far along are we to leaving?" Maile put her index finger-paw to her chin and stood in a pose that suggested critical thinking, over exaggerating her facial expressions comically, further irritating Max into a scoffing cynic.

"I may have to get back to ju on zat von, shep-coon!" Maile said in a pseudo-German accent that caused Gus to laugh aloud, even while tightening a screw nestled deep within the van's front end, a hard-to-reach little bugger if there ever was one.

Gus, the oldest in the group and the only human, said, "We're practically finished now, Max. Just making the necessary tightening adjustments here and there, s'all." Max nodded in confirmation and sat back, sinking into his suck-hard uncomfortable seat, scratching at an itch on his muzzle.

Calli cleared her throat and continued, saying, "Seriously, guys. I met this girl. She's super-cool and… well, you just gotta meet her. Trust me! If you thought your, um… 'abilities' were all that, Max, just wait 'til you see what this housecat has in store, dude." Her eyes were brimming with glee from behind wire spectacles and her tail wagged mercilessly, practically running off a mind all unto its own. Calli often-times conveyed bubbly optimism whenever she could and this moment was certainly of no exception. Max wondered if that aspect of her personality wasn't what Brad fell in love with from the get-go. If so, then they produced a stellar chemistry together.

"Color me intrigued! If little miss meow-meow can top this-" Max raised his hand in front of his snout and rubbed his finger-paws together, producing tiny flashing sparks of friction, like two quartz stones banged together rapidly. The sparks, instead of raining down upon the floor, spun in a tiny circular ring that surrounded Max's hand-paw, creating an interplanetary meteor belt of a bracelet around his wrist. Max snapped his finger-paws and the tiny constellation of clustered twinkling motes vanished, winked out of all sight and mind. Max cocked his brow and stared at Calli with a judgmental eye. She was fixated on his hand-paw, frozen in rapt awestruck wonder at what he'd just done before her very eyes. Calli caught a very brief glimpse of thin rivulets of smoke rising from Max's finger-paws, leaving behind a brief hinted scent of burnt hair. "-then I'll mind as well retire from the assassinating business, since my powers are all but moot in comparison to hers." Max said, upper lip curled back into a sneer. He shook the excess smoke free from his hand-paw.

Brad rubbed his muzzle and threw his arms into the air. The fennec-collie hybrid said, "Calli, if she's so amazing, why didn't you introduce us to her sooner? We've been here for over - what, a couple hours now? The show wrapped up twice as long ago, I think. Luckily we were able to make it back to Gus's place before the van decided to overheat and shit out a wad of freaking carbon emissions. Even then, you actually let this newfound stranger ride with you… here?" Calli nodded, smirking guiltily. Brad sighed and leaned his head further into the cabin, snout pointed towards the driver's seat. He glanced at the dashboard's LED clock, which read twenty past four in the evening. Fine time to spark and blaze, if he only had the goods and the means to do so. He let loose with a long-winded stretch and crawled further into the driver's bay. "Hey Gus! Any indicator on how much more time it'll take to get this bitch fixed and running again??!" Brad hollered at the top of his lungs, causing the windows to rattle in their frames, voice breaking into a squeaky whine toward the last few words spoken. Max laughed hysterically at the sound of his pseudo-brother's weird little puberty-lapse.

Maile flung her grease-stained towel over one of her ram-horns for safe-keeping as she returned back to her band manager and indirect father figure, ready to continue lending forth her support however necessary unto him. With Maile around, Gus never even needed a blowtorch. He'd just ask her to rub an edge of sheet-metal softly, which she did, producing a jarring shower of fire-hot sparks. She never even battened an eye, let alone blinked once during the entire welding process. It amazed and frightened Gus significantly. He wondered how many defilers, blasphemers and sodomites she'd drowned in the supposed great river of burning sand that's said to inhabit her home, the inner-ring of the seventh circle of Hell. Dante himself couldn't have written it any better. Gus wondered and panicked, ever-so-silently, then allowed all of his thoughts to be flushed down the drain of rejected brain-fodder as he continued to focus on the van's repair and imminent revival.

The shep-coon inhaled deep and let loose with a frustrated sigh. "Fine, bring her in." Max said, kicking his paw-padded feet out from underneath his uncomfortable bucket seat, regaining a little feeling in them once more, previously numb and now overly sensitive with a tingly biting force, a dire sensation of ice-cold forks penetrating his feet and knees and shins with their sharpened little metallic tines. He winced at the feeling and tried to maneuver himself in his seat, hoping not to look far too handicapped, yearning for a better position. He froze in place and all sense of tingling escaped his legs when he saw the girl whom Calli had befriended. Brad's jaw dropped, Max gave a shep-coon-style wolf-whistle and Calli, grinning wide, introduced her band-mates to a visually stunning feline anthro named Vivian Faberfox.

"Hello, nice to meet you all." Vivian said calmly, her voice a mere high-pitched whisper. The anthro-girl, a tan-colored long-furred house cat, moved with a lithe slinkiness that was strictly reserved for felines. Large tufts of fur on her ankles and wrists reminded Bradley of his own long, shaggy Afghan fur. Calli and Brad both hoisted her into the vehicle. When they were in with the door slid closed shut behind their heels, Calli helped guide Vivian along a stained carpet towards a cozy rear seat (the only comfortable seat in the entire vehicle) surrounded by charming hand-sewn throw pillows. Maile hid a fairly large bubbler-bong that'd been left out in the open, perched upon the carpeted ground. Calli moved the glass apparatus further beneath one of the van's small cushioned seats with extreme haste, turning it sideways and unknowingly spilling a little bongwater onto the carpet. Luckily, Vivian paid no mind or notice. The feline made sure all her merle-pattern-tipped tails were on-board before closing the door behind her and sure enough, one of them still managed to get stuck.

"Oh, watch out! Your tail is still in the do-" Max gasped, standing up and leaning towards her to help prevent any ugly tail-slammed shut-ins... to no avail. The heavy shrieking metal collided into place and poor Vivian's one of many tails just happened to be dangling freely over the entrance. Instead of wailing out in dire atrocious pain when her tail got wedged and jammed ghastly tight in the doorframe, she just nudged herself forward, brushing past Max's shoulder. Brad shrieked with his own hand-paw, covering his mouth. Vivian's tail was still stuck in the door when she stepped away from it. Once it became detached, Brad yelped and Max leaped forward, blindly presuming that he'd be able to prevent her butt-limb amputation. All at once, the world became very bright. Max's fur stood on end and his snout tingled aggressively. He rubbed his nose and covered his one good eye from the blinding brightness. He could hear Brad saying "What in the?!" beside him, barely above a murmur, too hard to be heard alongside the droning buzz that emanated from within his ear canals.

When he regained his sight and sound after a few seconds, he was staring at Vivian's tail, hovering in mid-air, connected to a large blue displacement orb. It looked electric, energetic and completely alive. It flickered and flashed with a monumentally stark light, unlike anything he'd ever seen before. A miasma of radiation swelled and circulated from within, presenting a tiny construct of inner-dimensional galaxies and nebulas, a displaced spherical vessel of pure raw energy, a pantheon of intrinsic science. Vivian flexed her slender hand-paw and stood up. She moved the fascinating object slowly towards her back-side by way of pure telekinesis. Max could hear voices whispering all around him, Vivian being the strongest source of their originating point. He couldn't possibly be hearing her thoughts… could he?
Max thought: Sweet solidified slutmuffins, could this be true? Really??
At the same time, the tail itself hovered as deftly as a feather over a steaming manhole cover, located just outside the van's large sliding door. Steam emanated through the van's interior, muggy and moist. Max reached for the door to open it, trembling with shock and awe. He yanked a metal handle and it rolled on squeaky hinges. Vivian guided the orb towards the base of her spine and leaned forward to rub at her waist. Slowly, the orb connected to a small mound of eight other tails. Upon sinking back into her body, the orb bent and contorted into improbable shapes, growing thin and spiraled, almost tentacle-like in nature. It seeped gradually into a fur-covered knob and as soon as she was able to wag it again, the feeling of pure energy suspended upon Brad & Max's bodies evaporated, simply disappeared from existence. Whatever substantial powers may have been presented before them, had now been tended to and controlled - ultimately harnessed.

Maile said, "Hey! Everything okay back there?" Max's jaw shivered and he nodded unknowingly. Everything's fine, Mai-Mai. Just fine. Juuuust fine, he thought. Maile's mental response echoed through his head like a wine glass shattered in a large cathedral.

You sure, shep-coon? I heard you shriek a bit.

Oh fuck, you heard that? Boy, now I'm embarrassed.

Don't be - you've made way worse noises in the past, you pussy.

Fuck you too, darling. We're fine. The van ready yet?

Almost. Patience is a virtue, shep-coon.

Yeah, so is masturbation. Let's just get going already, okay?

Of course, dear.

Vivian shrugged her shoulders and giggled softly. "Whoops! Sorry about that, boys. Honestly, I don't think I've ever not shut my tail in a door before. Clumsy ol' me!" Vivian knocked a fist against her head playfully while crossing her eyes and holding her tongue out to one side of her mouth. A most goofy expression. She spun around in a half-crouched position so that her tails could swing by Brad and Max's faces, bearing fur as soft as willow tree stems, brushing fibrous follicles against their muzzles and tickling their canine whiskers. The hybrid musicians stared at each other and exchanged a similar glance of pure, unintended excitement. At long last, they had found another significantly talented and gifted anthro who could perform otherworldly tasks. Max wasn't as alone as he'd originally considered himself to be.

"Yes… YES! WHOO!! We're in business!" Gus exclaimed, leaping with joy and twirling a lug wrench in his grip, jiving his shoulders wildly. Maile laughed at his overexcited little jig and ran fast, opened the front door and hopped into the van's driver seat, turned the ignition over… and the engine roared to life, sounding as beautifully choked-up as it always had. The sound practically brought a tear of joy to Gus's eyelid. Calli and Bradley gave each other a high-five while Max continued to stare at Vivian's tails, expecting her to yank another one free just for good measure. He wanted to see that beautiful azure cool-hued glow once more. It made him feel warmly hypnotic.

Gus and Maile both began collecting automotive parts and cleaning Mr. Stevenson's garage up a bit before heading out to their scheduled kaffeeklatsch performance, set to take place at Dutch Bros. in Grants Pass. When they were all in place and the van had been lowered back onto its wheels, portable jack stowed away, Maile crawled into the passenger seat and let Gus have his own captain's navigation chair back. He buckled up, adjusted his mirrors and caught a slight glimpse of the newcomer from his rear-view mirror. Her eyes flashed a bright and heavily saturated golden hue before settling back to solemn brown. Gus did a double-take in the mirror, staring at her eyes in the reflection. They remained steady, still… and as brown as her hair. She glanced his way and they exchanged a small smile. Gus shrugged the sight off as a mere trick of shadow, put the gearshift lever to D and took off from the parking lot of his cozy humble abode.

~

Max and Brad stared at Vivian for a few minutes before Calli decided to shatter the silence.

"So Vivian! Now that you've shown my boys here a little bit of what you can do, you wanna share some more tricks up your sleeve?"

Vivian smiled with rich excitement and clapped her hand-paws together softly, holding her arms together in front of her chest. "Sure! Okay, so pretend you'd like to hear more about what's being said in a room with closed doors. You want to eavesdrop but can't figure out a way to gain a good advantageous point, right? ("God, I'd love that so much." Max said, briefly interrupting Vivian before becoming silent and receptive once more.) Well, check this out."

Max scoffed beneath his breath and Brad folded his arms in front of his chest, cocking his head and paying close attention. Vivian reached up towards her own petite cat head, combed her slender feline fingers through her shoulder-length brunette hair and felt around for her ear. When she'd gotten a good grip on a tuft of fur protruding from one of its tips, she yanked her hand-paw out and with a wet little pop, the ear came along with it. Max jumped back and Brad started in his seat, practically pissing himself, staring wildly at her ear. He half-expected to see gouts of blood and hear eternal wails of dire pain emanate from within the compacted confines of the touring van.
No such thing occurred though.
Vivian's ear was attached to another indigo orb which was a little smaller than the one connected to her tail, no larger than a baseball with rapid blues and purples reflected in Max's one good eye. Vivian held her hand-paws above her head and slowly moved them forward, towards her lap. The orbed ear hovered deftly to the front of the vehicle, where Maile and Gus were actively talking about the van's maintenance and gas mileage. They were so heavily immersed in their conversation that they'd been made completely unaware of the cat-girl's dislodged ear floating between them. They never even noticed the freaking thing pass right by, landing with limited purchase in a small slot beneath the van's worn-down radio, cassette deck loaded with the sweet sounds of Janis Joplin.

Vivian closed her eyes and sat perfectly still. She appeared to be listening to something very carefully, frozen in place to concentrate. She nodded, donned a curvy little Cheshire grin and chuckled to herself. Brad was about to ask her what was so doggone funny and Max held him down with a head shake and a stern frown, insisting otherwise. He understood what could happen if a gifted, ability-possessed anthro were to be interrupted from performing their mutual power. He understood all too well. Ugly shit was bound to commence. Like waking a sleepwalker, some things were simply best left alone entirely. Vivian laughed at herself, soft and meek with a cute little voice. She looked up at Brad and smiled. "They're talking about you, kind sir." Vivian said low and quiet, pointing at him. "Not too loudly, mind you, but… I think the saluki girl really admires you quite a bit. Perhaps even more than you realize." Vivian whispered. Bradley's heart began to race wildly. He knew how he felt about Calli but to allow a third party to describe how she felt about him, and in this very manner? Well, that was certainly nothing short of a legit eye-opener.

~

When the short demonstration was wrapped up, Vivian clenched her fists together and pulled her balled-up hand-paws towards her chest. At the same time, her ear slipped free from the small dashboard compartment and returned back to her, spiraling through the air, freed from the niche beneath Gus's car radio where it once had rested and eavesdropped effortlessly. She guided the ear towards her head, zipping it between the van's two front seats, right through the hull of its interior. Pulling her hair back, Vivian winced slightly as the orb touched her head and slowly seeped back into her ear hole, slithering against the side of her cranium, illuminating her fuzzy cheek with a stark bluish glow, filling her ear canal with that marvelous ethereal light. Brad and Max's faces were once more lit up from the bright flashing azure spherical orb that hovered in place beside Vivian's head. Max's stomach took a lurching flip from within his belly when he saw Vivian's earhole itself; merely a small white divot with a dime-sized opening, but he couldn't bear to look away - Maxwell was, without a doubt in mind, completely absorbed in deep heavy concentration. Bradley wore a goofy grin of awe and wonder.

"So there you go! Good as new." Vivian said, cracking a witty charming smile and brushing her hair back over her ear, as if nothing had ever happened.

Max chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "Damn girl, you ought to get that checked out." Brad rolled his eyes and Calli sighed exhaustively.
Vivian placed her hand-paw to her snout and tittered softly. "Oh okay, laugh all you want, you chumps. I mean it! There's plenty of room for concern in regards to this sort of thi-"

An abrasive clunking noise barreled through the interior of the van's cabin and the vehicle began to hobble. It lurched down a nearly-abandoned road surrounded by a thickened copse of cedar trees and pine stumps, covered with strands of fern and ivy, smothered by dirt and aged filmy moss. White lane separator lines flashed in patterned intervals on both sides of the road as the van careened along its blacktop surface. No double-yellow lane-breaker lines could be seen; they'd nearly faded out of sight from years of exposure to ravaging snow plows and natural atmospheric erosion. Small cubical ground reflectors spat Gus's twilit highbeams back at him in blinding strobelit flashes. The box of random miscellany tipped over, spilling its contents onto Max's lap.

"Oh, fuck! The goods!!" Max tried to hold steady and re-pack the bin with whatever he could manage to reach for while the van was in full-fledged motion. He reluctantly unbuckled his safety belt to reach for a stray baggie of Feral Times that had rolled farther than intended when Gus hit a massive pothole, hidden out of sight. Max flung upward into the air roughly half a foot and nearly collided against the roof of the van's interior before he slammed down onto the carpet. Maile looked back and asked if he was alright, attention paid towards seven different things at once. Max clamped down his grip upon the carpet, snarled deep, inhaled deeper and yelled, "What's goddam happening up there?!" Max held onto the carpet with both hand-paws then, still knelt on the floor. Brad ensured his safety belt was buckled tight and sat perfectly still, eyes closed, hoping to ride this chaotic little moment out in full. He practiced his breathing techniques - six seconds in through the nostrils, hold for seven, out through the mouth in another six, rinse and repeat. Gus gripped hold of the steering wheel tightly, teeth exposed and snarling through a groan of anticipation while Maile held onto her passenger side's oh-shit handle and stared alarmingly at Gus, hoping he knew what the heck he was doing.

"Gus, what's going on?!" Calli called out from the back, using a nearby chrome handlebar to sit still in place. Unbelievably, Vivian was laughing aloud, enthralled by the wild ride she'd decided to go on with these weird yet perfectly accepting anthro musicians. Max thought she'd lost her freaking marbles already, had to have. As if displacement orbs and separated limbs and fuck-knows-what-else wasn't enough for him already. Gus breathed wildly and maneuvered the van off to the side of the road, straight into a gravel-pitted shoulder-space. After they'd come to a complete stop and Gus moved the gearshift to P, he applied the parking brake, shut the engine off and glanced back into the van's interior. His face was pasty-white and there were droplets of sweat formed upon his brow, runnels leaking down the chrome-shiny surface of his bald head. The only sound that could be heard was their heavy breathing, the clicking of the van's engine and a single raven perched in a nearby tree, cawing aloud with reckless abandon, criticizing the big ugly van for having fouled up the rich natural aromatic scents of its accustomed habitat.

"Holy hell. I think we just gave ourselves a flat tire. Hoo boy." Gus said, smacking his head, rubbing it out of stressful reprieve. He flexed his gnarled old man's hand and shrugged his shoulders, cocking one of his brows and smiling with bitter sarcasm. His glare made Maile flinch a little, probably due to a tangible hint of craziness apparent in show. "Maile! Shall we tend to Ol' Bessie?" Gus asked the panda-goat-demon hybrid, to which she responded with a coy grin of understanding, a wink and a click of her tongue.

"You don't have to ask me twice, Gussy-poo!" Maile replied. She reached into the glovebox and removed her trusty oil-rag from it. Stepping out of the vehicle and approaching the van's trunk to retrieve the portable hand-jack, Maile saw a deep indigo-hued glow emanating from within the vehicle's back seat, looking into one of the windows. It was strange, like a very powerful blacklight. She wondered if one of the spotlight fixtures didn't accidentally find its way into Gus's van. She also wondered if they even worked without substantial power. She'd have to look into it later though, priorities first.

~

While Gus and Maile were busy swapping out the busted tire with a spare kept on hand in a rear compartment cubby attached to an access ladder on the back of the van, the others were getting better-acquainted with Vivian Faberfox.

"So, why'd you decide to come with us again?" Max asked the feline. Brad nudged Max's shoulder with a fist and the shep-coon shrugged comically. "What, we were never told! I'm sorry! Jeez." Max jutted his tongue out at Brad and held his finger and thumb up to his forehead, indicating an L gesture. Brad smacked Max's hand-paw aside with a grunt. Max smirked and continued. "So! Are you just getting a lift from us, or…?"

Vivian nodded, simple enough. "That's okay, I don't blame you for being curious. And I'm certainly not offended. Calli actually asked me if I wanted to tag along, which I agreed to wholeheartedly. Had nothing better to do, nowhere else better to be and you all seemed rather interesting and of course still do. So, here I am, riding along with you guys to your next gig, right?" Vivian inquired, to which Brad confirmed with a thumbs-up. Max nodded with understanding and removed a tightly-rolled joint tucked between a clump of dirty-blonde dreads and his right ear.

"Well then! If you'll be chaperoning alongside this band, you'll have to take a couple deep tokes of this shi-" Vivian shook her head and pulled her arm free from her shoulder, throwing the displacement orb attached to the base of the bicep towards Max. The orb attached itself to the backrest beside the shep-coon and the arm reached over and yanked the small ganja-fag free from his grip, crumpling it into a wad of paper, stagnant bottom-barrel shake and flowering sticky bud, ruining the joint. Vivian's arm flicked remnants of ganja debris out of an open window and gave Max's cheek a companionable pat and caress, paw-padded fingertips sticky from the THC. Max's expression reflected the unexpected surprise ten-fold. He had no capacity for anger - the disembodied arm preventing him from getting high had shocked him into a stunned silence. Who the fuck needed drugs anyways, while witnessing such an insanely outrageous spectacle? "Sorry, Maxwell, but I don't like marijuana. The smell, the side effects… not a strong preference of mine." Vivian said, trying not to lose her edge. Max, withholding the urge to punch a hole into one of the van's windows, nodded contemptuously instead.

"Okay. No problem." Max said in a grossly robotic tone of voice. He was fucking livid but knew it wouldn't do to behave that way, not around somebody new and especially not around Calli. He and Calli weren't on the strongest of terms anyways, the last thing he needed was to cause unnecessary drama by irritating her - shoot, she and everyone else were plenty irritated enough on account of the suicidal van tire.

"Oh! That reminds me!" Brad said, jumping up in his seat. Dawning realization flooded into his face at breakneck speed. The fennec-afghan-collie hybrid cracked his knuckles in his hand-paw and reached beneath his seat. He pulled out a rectangular plastic bin, covered with a large purple lid, measuring a foot in width and about half a foot in length. Calli took a glance at the plastic container and rolled her elegantly almond-shaped saluki eyes sardonically. "Oh boy, now he's whipping out the fun-time bin." Max rustled around in his seat, anxious with whimsical intent, curious to see what his fellow companions partook in.

Vivian's face spelled out confusion as she cocked her head and pouted her chin, looking at the bin casually. "Uh, 'Fun-time'?"

"Basically just a big-ass collection of random shit we picked up from a local apothecary shop. There's a number of weird, obscure and plain ridiculous potions in this thing." Calli said. "Heck, I might try one out myself, just for kicks. It sure beats sitting around in bored silence, waiting for those guys to change out the tire!" The saluki girl said, pointing towards the front of the Econovan. The front window was obscured by a lifted hood cover but slight movement could still be seen at certain far-edged angles. Max was curious as to why there was so very little traffic along this particular stretch of road. Maybe this was one of Gus's many hidden gems?

Bradley rambled on about the apothecary goods. "I'm telling you, Viv! From tinctures to ointments and powders; pretty much whatever you can imagine! This place has it all, I swear." Brad exclaimed. He began to feel comfortable having Vivian around, so it seemed - he only gave nicknames to those who he truly trusted. Brad ripped free of the lid and threw it aside. In the bin were four rolled-up baggies filled with ample amounts of Feral Times, about half-a-dozen vials or so of high-potency R-63 tonic, a tube of human-to-anthro (and visce-versa) serum and roughly a baker's dozen of multiple pills, variating in shape, size and color. Herbal remedies with a magical twist.

Brad grabbed a tiny vial of R-63 and removed the cap, catching a whiff of strong odorous concoction. He braced himself and took a deep swig of the solution, flinging the vial aside and belching softly. "Pardon me." Brad said in a voice that wasn't her own, just a few registers too high. Almost feminine. Max caught the vial and smiled wide, giving Bradley a crazed stare of rabid anticipation. Calli laughed hysterically as Brad's belch provoked a pair of ample, budding breasts to grow in place upon her chest, inflating before their very eyes. Brad's legs shifted, her waist sunk in, her hips expanded and a squishing sound could be heard quite audibly from within her jeans. A moment of pain gave yield to a fascinatingly liberating feeling of awkwardly soothing pleasure. Max laughed out loud and Vivian's eyes were wide open with shock when she witnessed Calli's boyfriend transform into a goddam vixen, right before her very chestnut-brown-hued eyes.

"There's stuff in here that can turn me into a female and back into a male again. That's what this is, this vial. See? 'R-63 Solution: for all your gender-bending endeavors.'" Bradley said, showing Vivian the product label from another vial. She nodded with comprehensive understanding. "In a moment, I'll revert back to my normal self. Weird, huh?" Brad said, giggling with a feminine laugh, freakishly adorable. Brad's tail jerked and swayed in response beneath her butt, against the seat.

"Weird is right. You use this to change into a female, and visce-versa? I'm surprised you guys haven't figured out how to do it on your own yet." Vivian said, causing Brad to startle a bit. Max cocked his eyebrow with great interest.

"Hmm! On our own, eh? Uh, hey Max! You wanna try some of this stuff, shep-coon?" Brad asked Max with a teasing little girl's voice, holding the vial of R-63 up in plain view, shrugging her shoulders teasingly while presenting an awkwardly sultry grin.

Max said, "I shall never stop being weirded the fuck out by that shit, man. I swear… why would I want to become a female, anyways? No matter how brief. What's the point? To toy with experimental purposes? To gain the upper-hand in a rabid SJW-Feminazi debate-N-debacle?! WHAT??!"

"Because it's nice to be the fuckee sometimes, as opposed to the fucker." Vivian said casually, hardly even breaking stride in her delivery. Brad laughed like a girl at a tea party. "Plus it provides an ideal disguise for all your assassinating needs." Vivian said, winking softly at Max. The shep-coon was about to ask her how in God's name she could've figured out his side-job so quickly, then recalled hearing a Legion of voices from within her atmospheric mind-void. So she had somehow tapped into his mind, then. Good Lord.

Calli rummaged through the bin to find a species-converting oil - one drop beneath the tongue was all it took. "Yeah, I'll give this one a go." Calli said. She unscrewed the cap's lid and applied more than one drop beneath her saluki dog's tongue. Within mere seconds, Calli grew long tusks from the sides of her mouth and her snout became bulbous. Her arms stretched down to the tips of her feet, now more webbed than pawed, similar to an otter or a walrus. Calli massaged her large tusks and grinned as her anthro canine form became odobenus in appearance.

"Calli, you look truly beautiful!" Bradley said, sounding like a high school cheerleader. Calli raised her head and laughed wildly through her two large ivory tusks while clapping her webbed hands together which provoked a rousing burst of applause from the others.

Gus jumped back from the van and whooped aloud at the sound of a braying walrus echoing out from within. His eyes widened and his upper lip rose into a sneer of suspicion. "Woah! T'fuck was that?!"

Maile gawked at the van, staring into one of the tinted windows, finger-paw held in a dead-pan point. She looked as if she'd seen Godzilla and was about to run for dear life. Her eyes glowed softly, green vapor emanating freely from her irises. Gus saw her dismayed reaction and upon averting his eyes in the direction of her pointed digit, he too dropped his jaw and stood remarkably still, at a total loss of words. They both tried to comprehend what they were looking at.
The inside of the van had become a freaking zoo.

~

Bradley exited from the van as a pretty little princess, clothing too big for her petite feminine body. Calli stomped free from the van, having transformed into a magnificent walrus-saluki hybrid. Maxwell ran between their legs and exited the van as a feral German shepherd dog (since he'd gotten into the Feral Times powder while the others were preoccupied) and a feline anthro with his (wasn't he just a she not too long ago?) arms floating by his side stepped free from the van's interior cabin, placed his prim paw-padded feet upon loose gravel and stood still, deep in thought and observant as ever. His arms, connected to displacement orbs, twirled around his body like Saturn's rings. The wrists remained straight and the hands were flexed in peace-sign gestures, two finger-paws extended in the shape of a V. The van sat in place, wheel missing off one of its axis pegs, stalled upon the side of the road which would ultimately lead to the band's next performing gig.

Gus said, "Holy Moses. You guys got into the black magic box, didn't you?"

"More like an alchemist's bin, am I right?" Maile said to nobody in particular. She crouched down and welcomed Max as he ran up to her, excitably pressing his paws against her knees and licking at her snout. His breath smelled like stale egg whites - an unfortunate side-effect of Feral Times consumption, especially by nasal ingestion. As wildly fun as the stuff could be, it also dealt plenty of ugliness to be tended to gradually, as did any drug perhaps. Max's ringed tail wagged furiously and a large patch of blonde hair upon the top of his head received substantial petting and rubbing from Maile.

Vivian said, "I'm quite impressed. Even though you guys utilize these weird concoctions to change forms, you still manage to maintain your truest selves. Impressive, indeed. Far too many furs I know have either gone crazy or died from overexposure to these sorts of potions."

"Yet we never even saw you so much as touch a single thing in the bin." Bradley said, adjusting her breasts in her oversized shirt. "How can that be, I wonder?"

Vivian's arms stopped spinning and the hand-paws bunched up into fists. The feline averted his gaze to the wheel-well and all at once, his arms cut a path towards the spare tire. Both displacement orbs glowed with wicked life as Vivian's disembodied arms grabbed hold of it. The floating arms lifted the ring of firm rubber and wire-mesh freely and guided it towards the axis rod. Working diligently, they fitted the tire neatly into place upon half a dozen lug bolts then grabbed for six hefty lug nuts. The displacement orbs glowed bright and flickered even brighter still, like two tesla coils turned up to full power, illuminating the side of the van and the road with wickedly bright bluish-purple light. Thank goodness they had broken down on a reasonably abandoned road - far less rubbernecking onlookers to worry about.

One of Vivian's arms worked at placing the nuts in their designated slots while the other arm used a lug wrench to perform all the proper tightening. When the job was finished (which took no longer than two minutes) and the jack had been removed from beneath the van, Vivian walked over to the blown tire. The arms hoisted it up and placed it into the compartment where the spare had just been residing, but no longer. Vivian cocked his head in multiple angles, popping his neck and providing fluid relief. He walked towards Gus and Maile, eyes aglow with golden trim. His arms rotated and revolved at both sides of his body. He closed his eyes and the arms paused, then slowly returned back into place. When the orbs attached to his shoulders, a loud suckling noise took off - the noise an old man's lips make while eating Jell-O. It was revolting yet weirdly compelling. Vivian's eyes reverted back to a solemn shade of brown. When she twirled her now-silenced anthro feline arms around in large swooping circular movements, Gus nearly fainted. Maile had to step beside him quickly to ensure he didn't pass out and fall down flat upon the blacktop.

"I suppose this means we're on our way once more, then?" Vivian insisted. Gus, jaw hung agape and heart rate racing into astronomical quantities, nodded in a distracted manner. He had always thought Maile's abilities were the strangest thing he'd ever seen… before he met Vivian Faberfox and her (or his?) floating, glowing-orb-toting arms. Maxwell barked in response, sat down elegantly upon his haunches, snout whitened with powder. In another few hours, they'd return back to their normal selves. Before then, they intended to make each moment last. Gus fired the van up, placed the gearshift to D, pulled out of the gravel pit and resumed their normal course. Vivian was grateful to have attended the show, to witness how three totally different anthros can come together and produce such a solid sound of hard rock.

Vivian Faberfox also decided to "borrow" a baggie of Feral Times - just for future endeavors.

END

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Secret Santa 2017 - Vivian Faberfox

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