Disclaimer:
This work is fiction. The work has no relationship with any person existing at any time anywhere whether real or imaginary or copywritten. Everything in this work is mea culpa.
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Yule
(5/25/99 1435 Scotland, Blue Continent)
“Daisy, heel damn it!”
Blonde curls bounced as the growltit raised her head and waved before trotting back to her tamer. “Sorry, master James.”
“Stop wandering off. I know you’re part canid and you want to explore, but keep close. If a feral hits us, she might get me before you can intercept her.”
Daisy’s ears drooped as he chided her. “I’m sorry sir, but there are interesting smells here. They grab my attention.”
“Remember that if your attention wanders too much, you might get to go feral again while smelling my decomposing corpse.” He cuffed her lightly and she cringed, bobbing her head rapidly in agreement.
“I’m sorry I’m so bad as a guardian, sir. Maybe we should keep the next pokegirl you catch.”
James bared his teeth in a grimace. “Daisy, you’re loyal, loving, and obedient and thanks to you, I’ve learned that I am not going to have a harem composed of nothing but feralborne pokegirls. Lindsey’s death wasn’t either of our faults, but she was my alpha and you’re just not up to the job. You get distracted too easily. That’s why we’re headed to the Pennywell Ranch.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I just wish I knew why they weren’t listed in the pokedex.”
“If they aren’t listed, sir, how did you know about them?”
“There was an old brochure in the store at the last village we passed through.” He sighed. “I really hope they haven’t gone out of business.” He pulled a faded trifolded piece of print from his pocket and opened up his pokedex. He unfolded the paper to reveal an advert for the Pennywell Pokegirl Ranch. Across the bottom was a tiny barcode.
James unclipped the scan wand from his dex and swiped it across the barcode. A map display appeared on his pokedex’s screen. He zoomed the display and peered at it. “We should be pretty close to it, if I’m reading this thing right.” He stared at the map again for a moment before shrugging and pointing. “We go that way. Stay close for a change.”
“As my master commands.”
The shadows were starting to lengthen when they stepped out of the woods and into an open area. James stared as Daisy came up behind him. Her head tilted sideways. “What is that?”
James knelt and scooped up a handful of the powdery substance. “It’s snow.”
“Sir, we weren’t lost for that long, were we?”
He looked up at her to see if she was having a go at him, but her face was serious. “You really don’t have any sense of time, do you?” She shook her head and he pushed to his feet. “There’s a building up ahead, let’s see what it is.”
The air became bitterly cold as they trudged into the snow. James looked around and estimated that the clearing was a mile across and inside it was nothing but snow. He had to stop a couple of times to hug with Daisy and warm up before pressing on.
The stars were coming out when he reached the brightly lit buildings and stopped for a moment to stare at a bright red column that shot twenty meters into the air before heading for the front door of what looked like the main house. Next to the door was a large brass bell that gleamed in the light from the window in the door. James tugged on the bell pull and it rang musically.
James was shivering when the door was jerked open. An older man blinked at him. “Good lord, man, come in before you freeze.”
A moment later, James and Daisy were seated at a large table. The man grabbed a thermal pitcher and quickly filled two cups. “I hope you like hot chocolate.”
James eyed their host as he joined them. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and was fit. “I’m Bart Pennywell. What brings you all the way out here? I don’t remember you as being one of Kenneth’s friends.”
Before James could answer, a door at the other end of the room opened and a stout woman wearing a red velvet dress came in. “Who was at the door, Bart?” She looked to be about the same age as Pennywell, but her hair was entirely white. She looked at the two newcomers and a broad smile appeared. “James Barnes and Daisy. No, Bart, they’re not friends of Kenneth and they’ve never been here before, but they’re good kids.”
James tried not to bristle at the appellation of kid. He was sixteen, a tamer and an adult. “I’m here because I wanted to see if you had any pokegirls ready for adoption.”
Bart sat up. “Thank you, Nikki, but I think you need to check on today’s production.”
Nikki nodded. “Ok, I’ll do that.” She smiled again at James and slipped out the same door she’d come in from.
“Mr., Barnes, is it? Mr. Barnes, Pennywells isn’t a ranch. We don’t adopt pokegirls out to tamers.”
James pulled out the brochure. “This says you are.”
Bart took the offered brochure and carefully opened it up. “My word, this is nearly a century old.” He looked up. “Can I have this? I’d like to put it in our museum.”
“Sure. So you’re not a ranch?”
“Not anymore. We stopped being a ranch nearly sixty years ago, when my grandfather ran Pennywells.” He smiled proudly. “We raised an obscure species of pokegirl that tamers didn’t want, but grandfather really liked. Sixty years ago we had the accident and closed our doors as a ranch.”
“What kind of pokegirl?”
“Pennywells has always raised farfuck’d. Oh, we had whatever ferals we could catch too, but that’s what we were known for. Of course, they thought grandfather was as crazy as the pokegirls he raised, but that was before.”
James sipped at his cocoa. “Before?”
“Would you like to hear the story?
“Yes, please.”
“It was 245 AS when the accident happened, and we suddenly realized just how useful farfuck’d could be. Before that even my father thought grandfather was a bit cracked.” Bart settled back and poured himself some cocoa. “For seventy years, grandfather and great grandfather had been raising them as combat pokegirls, and unless she decides to imprint on a combat breed, a farfuck’d isn’t that useful as one.” He sipped politely. “And given their proclivities, tamers didn’t really want them, so they had to get creative in finding ways to make them saleable.”
“It was in the middle of summer when Ted Wilson came by. He was a reclaimer and had spent a year in the Edinburgh area when he’d found out that we had a farfuck’d who’d imprinted as an action hero by the name of Indiana Jones. India was an expert in history as well as solving puzzles involving archaeology and Mr. Wilson was looking for someone just like that. Unfortunately for him, someone else wanted her and a bidding war erupted on the spot.” Pennywell smacked his lips appreciatively. “However, it was extremely fortunate for us.”
“Both parties ran out of money and started bidding valuables. By this time it was more over making sure that the other guy went away empty handed than getting India. Finally Ted dug out only the vital necessities he’d need and offered everything else that he owned. Grandfather tallied up the value and that won him the bidding and India.” Bart chuckled softly for a moment.
“Grandfather turned all of the gear over to one of the adoptable pokegirls and told her to take care of it while he processed India’s paperwork and turned her over to Mr. Wilson. That took a couple of hours, since apparently the lady bidding against him was a sore loser and had to be restrained for the police to fly out and get. Once all of that was taken care of, he went to check up his pokegirls, who had been suspiciously quiet. When he got to the main hall, the accident had already happened and it was too late.”
He refreshed his drink and got out a pie. “Here, feel free to help yourselves.” He leaned back in his chair. “It turned out that one of the places that Mr. Wilson had been excavating recently had been a place where people used to go to get movies. To purchase, actually, and everything in the store had been hermetically sealed in plastic before sale. Most of them had leaked and been ruined, but sometimes one as pristine as the day it was wrapped can be found. Wilson had found one of those and kept it for himself, and it turned out that one of our staff had imprinted as an electronics specialist. She whipped up a reader and they’d already watched the program by the time grandfather found them.” He shivered. “There were a hundred and fifty pokewomen, girls and kits in the room and all of them imprinted or reimprinted. I’ve never heard of anything like that happening again, and my grandfather was kind of at a loss. An entire ranch full of farfuck’d ruined.”
“He worked on what he might do for a while and finally decided to sleep on it. When he got up in the morning, he found they’d started making thing in the night and a week later he closed the ranch for good. The business has grown over the years, as we add more pokegirls, but we seldom get rid of anything other than ferals.” He smiled. “You wouldn’t be interested in a feral, would you?”
“I was hoping for a domesticate. Daisy here is a feralborne and is fine in combat, but outside of it she’s too easily distracted and I’m concerned for my safety.”
“I’ll check the lists in the morning and see if we have any captures that might have gone wild.”
“Mr. Pennywell, what did happen here?”
He blinked. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ve gotten used to telling the story to the kits, who already know most of it. You have to understand that when a farfuck’d imprints, she believes that she becomes whatever she imprints on. One of the pokegirls imprinted on the main character, which was odd enough, but one of the others imprinted on a minor character, but one who was actually in charge. The rest of the farfuck’d in the room imprinted on various other characters in the show, which was necessary to help Nikki believe she was who she is.”
Daisy blinked. “Nikki? Sir, didn’t we just meet Nikki?”
“That’s a quick growltit you’ve got there. Yes, in fact, that is the Nikki I’m speaking of.” He smiled fondly at Daisy. “The movie was a children’s movie called Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Nikki imprinted on the character of Santa Claus and became Nikki Kringle. Santa was called St Nicholas, you know.”
“She doesn’t look sixty.”
“Seventy nine, actually, no she doesn’t. You see, she read up on Santa and discovered that he’s been around for a long time, so we think she gave herself longevity. Farfuck’d have incredible powers when they find a reason to apply them.”
“You said the others became other characters to help?”
“Oh, yes, we’ve got a full assortment of ‘reindeer’, including Rudi, who has a glowing nose. Interestingly, they’ve learned to fly. The others became elves.” He chuckled. “Some were a little confused, so we’ve got Santa’s elves along with some other working elf types from mythology, including cobbler elves. They all stopped aging too, but they still need tamed and they have been having kits who have all joined the mass delusion.”
“What do you do instead of selling pokegirls?”
“Why, my dear fellow, we make toys. We’re one of the premier suppliers of toys in the world. We put aside a stock for Nikki to deliver on Christmas, but we’ve convinced her that there are other Santa’s helpers out there who deliver the rest. Those are our distributors and she does understand we need money to stay open.”
He winked. “The elves make the toys with magic, which means we don’t need to supply any raw materials and keeps overhead very low. We pass that along in the toy prices, so our toys are also hard to beat financially. In addition, they can make any toy that they’ve seen, so even though a lot of toys are licensed merchandise, we have connections with lots of reclaimers and get first pick at any toys they rediscover. We are always coming up with new ones that way.”
“Nikki delivers toys?”
“Of course she does. Her magic is pretty powerful and she can enter houses to deliver toys. She does the ones in the county every Christmas. She instinctively knows if someone is good or bad and since she proclaimed you and your pokegirl good, you’ll probably find presents at the foot of your beds in the morning.” He flashed a grin. “I’d keep your pokegirl out tonight or she won’t get any.”
James blinked. “I’ll remember that.”
FARFUCK’D, the Delusional Pokégirl
Type: Very Near Human
Element: Magic (Functionally Insane is not an element, despite what most people would like to think)
Frequency: Rare
Diet: Near Human Diet (herbivore)
Role: Force Multiplier
Libido: Average
Strong Vs: None
Weak Vs: None (Technically)
Attacks: Reflect, Absorb, Imitate, Counter, Sketch
Enhancements: Highly Advanced Learning Ability, Intuitive Analysis Skills, Enhanced Memory, Enhanced Reflexes (x5)
Disadvantages: Delusional, Distorted Reality Perception
Evolves: None Known
Evolves From: Shadowgirl (Moon Shard)
FarFuck’Ds are insane. This is a constant, consistent, unshakeable belief held among the Research Community, Tamers, and Breeders.
Several theories among researchers hold that Sukebe was, at certain points in the war, pressed to bring to bear assets that were not initially combat ready, nor having gone through any field trials or testing. They cite occurrences that are obviously 'fail states' or errors in the taming and bonding process, such as feral shock, personality inversion, dependency syndrome, and other symptoms.
They also cite FarFuck’Ds as clearly damaged products.
Salvaged lab records do offer the original intent of what the FarFuck’D was meant to do. The original breed’s specifications was a planned force multiplier, allowing them to be paired up with powerful, rare Pokégirls and imitate their assault attacks, effectively doubling the firepower output of a Pokégirl assault force while not being limited in Pokégirl rarity or needing to know the attacks beforehand. Recovered battle records from the Revenge War, while sketchy, have confirmed that this same tactic was used successfully at least once, where a high-level Sphinx and what was later confirmed as a FarFuck’D successfully held off an entire battalion of human ground forces by employing high level magical attacks. Due to this documented success, researchers have theorized that the first production run of FarFuck’Ds were initially perfect, fulfilling the role they were designed for.
Whatever the case may be, whenever official documentation and study of the breed from captured parthenogenesis specimens from the wild (and, disturbingly, several threshold cases) began, a specific trend was noted among all observed FarFuck’Ds. They were completely, and utterly delusional as to what they were. Worse was what the FarFuck’Ds in question thought they were. Several of them thought they were normal human woman, discounting Pokéball capture and time spent therein entirely and claiming that the scanners employed were obviously defective. Others admitted that they were indeed Pokégirls, but could not agree on the breed, thinking themselves another type of Pokégirl. Worst were the ones picking up their mental cues from popular culture, such as manga, B movies, or more powerful, infamous Pokégirl personas. (One sad case in AS 278 claimed to be Mao Shin Mao herself, and was swiftly killed shortly thereafter.)
All of this would be easily discounted if it weren't for the worrying and disturbing fact that the FarFuck’D’s spread of abilities, enhancements, and attacks are uniquely suited to supporting this delusion. Using Imitate, Absorb, Reflect, and Sketch, a FarFuck’D in the throes of battle assuming a role can be very impressive to watch as they subconsciously let loose a flurry of attacks and status modifiers to make reality conform to what they think it should be. They can even learn attacks at an accelerated rate, often times being capable of mastering an attack after witnessing it being employed only once. All this, taken together, would make FarFuck’Ds a very useful breed in battle, if it weren't for the slight problem of their delusions. When thinking themselves a Pokégirl, they are completely involved in the role, assuming all weaknesses of said Pokégirl type - made all the more annoying by the fact that FarFuck’Ds -have- no weaknesses. A few even go so far and are so convincing that they actually fool others into thinking they really are that Pokégirl... until the Pokédex is employed, and the scanning function reveals just what type Pokégirl they are.
As mentioned before, FarFuck’Ds are clearly and utterly delusional. In almost two hundred and fifty years of documentation, no recorded incident or technique has ever been documented to shake this delusion. Only massive psychic trauma has been noted to have any effect on a FarFuck’D, and typically then, once recovered, all it does is shift said delusion slightly. There is only one case of a FarFuck’D admitting that she -is- a FarFuck’D on record, and those knowledgeable of that freak occurrence consider it a dismal failure. While the FarFuck’D in question readily admitted what she was, she was also stuck in a half-feral state, unable to speak normally half the time and easily stressed out, with a tendency to rapidly dissolve into a complete feral state unless tamed at a more than regular interval. Most researchers are of the opinion that this FarFuck’D was clearly brain damaged, but no autopsy reports are on file to confirm this.
Having a FarFuck’D in a harem is considered a complete and utter crapshoot. Oddly enough, FarFuck’Ds whom consider themselves to be human women have found to be rather useful as harem Alphas and Betas, perhaps understanding on a subconscious level that they still require taming, and responding to the psychological cues that indicate an actual bond is in place. It's worth noting that they often consider their 'Tamer' their 'boyfriend' instead, leading to some occasional misunderstandings. Despite this one useful trait a FarFuck’D can display, most Tamers and Researchers flat out refuse to have anything to do with them. As a result, they are typically let back out into the wild(often illegal in most places), euthanized (in the more pro-Pokégirl control leagues), or cycled into long-term storage.
Physically, FarFuck’Ds run the typical gamut of human woman in terms of appearance with no set average, and tend to go to great lengths to assume what they view is the ideal ‘body type’ for their role, often times without realizing it, investing in body-modification powders and transformative magics to do so. A number of FarFuck’Ds have been known to subconsciously pick up on learned spellcasting to further enhance the illusion, leading a number of well-known Researchers to remark in worry over just how far this breed will go in order to keep up with their view of reality. A number of Mages have advocated making it illegal for someone to teach FarFuck’Ds regimented spell casting, fearing what the end result might be.