Lift With Care (commission)

A commission for chaotic!

“…Whew!”

Chaotic would wipe his brow if he could – though luckily, the suit’s foam support that pressed against his forehead wicked the moisture away easily enough. He’d been working as a contractor on the Johannesburg-Mandela Orbital Tether project for nearly six months, and it was… slow going.

The hardest part, funnily enough, was the exact problem the tether aimed to solve – movement of heavy material into low orbit over this part of the planet was logistically, and economically, a nightmare. Heavy lift rockets only took things so far, and with the sheer amount of carbides and steel being moved up the towering edifice a single load at a time the company was projecting a completion date nearly twenty years into the future.

Kept him in a job, though.

The raccoon went back to welding a joint in section C50, carefully following the lines highlighted on his suit’s ops HUD. Sixty hours a week for a pretty handsome check every two weeks wasn’t the worst gig he’d taken, not by a long shot. Still… sometimes he wished the load was a little lighter. Burnout was a constant danger up here, even if the views were incredible.

Somewhere far below Johannesburg sprawled, the ruddy browns and greens of the Cape of Good Hope outlined against the cloudy ocean. A lift balloon drifted by, dragging another ton of material along with it as it ascended the length of the tether to the capstone station at the tip – likely loaded with electrical equipment for interior work. 

For a moment, the raccoon wondered what it would be like to be a lift balloon. Probably easier, right? Just carry stuff, all big and tight and…

He shook his head, forcing the pink tinge away from his cheeks. Focus. Just a few more hours and he could return to the hab level for some shuteye.

Chaotic blinked as his radio crackled, and the familiar canine face of the tether project’s ops AI appeared – scruffy, and stained here and there with… motor oil? Clearly an attempt at a “worker” appearance, if nothing else.

“Good afternoon, civilian contractor #32001! Your medical readouts pinged a heightened heart rate?”

“Oh. Um.”

“Are you in danger? Can I be of assistance?”

“N-No, I’m… fine. Just working… hard, you know?”

“I don’t!” The AI replied cheerfully, holding their holographic paws up. “Can’t hold things, after all.”

“…Ah. Well, I’d better get back to welding, so…?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that stuff! You’re being reassigned.”

Chaotic blanched, grip on his welder slipping and letting it drift away slightly before he grabbed it again, tapping his helmet with a gloved finger. “Reassigned?! I’ve worked this gig for months!”

“Oh, you’re still going to be helping,” The AI shrugged, pushing a shipping manifest and tracklist to the raccoon’s visor. “We’ve got sixty three tons of molybdenum waiting dirtside for a heavy-lift platform, and the company’s estimates for shipping us a new set are a year at best. So, I’ve decided to make do with what we have on-site, and make one.”

“…I’m going to be making a heavy-lift balloon?” Chaotic frowned, confused. “I’m not exactly an engineer-”

The raccoon was cut off, quite suddenly, by the emergency oxygen supply’s breathing hose shooting out of the helmet’s chinrest and stuffing itself straight into his mouth, clamping against his muzzle. REMAIN CALM, the visor helpfully read in bright blue text. ADMINISTERING EMERGENCY O2.

I’m going to be making a heavy lift balloon!” The AI giggled, just as the raccoon’s cheeks began to round out. “Thanks for volunteering!”

Chaotic flailed, welder spinning away into space as the work suit’s substantial oxygen supply rushed into his mouth! He felt light-headed, tummy already starting to expand ever so slightly inside the form-fitting material, giving the raccoon first the appearance of a paunch, then a gut – and beyond, the loud hiss filling his ears suddenly the only thing he could focus on!

“MMPH,” Chaotic protested – trying his best to grab on to the tether’s metal frame – and managing after a few tries, despite the insistent stretching and groaning of the suit’s material as he began to fill out into a more pear-like shape.

Something clamped onto his back as he clung to the tether, squeezing his… surprisingly squishy frame as the subtle vibrations of something being attached to the rear of his space suit momentarily distracted the raccoon from the building pressure. Help, maybe? 

…a hope that was quickly dashed as the flow doubled, an autonomous work drone jetting away to its next assignment on tiny RCS directionals as Chaotic continued to strain and press against the suit, tummy finally spilling out as it tore along a seam! For a moment he panicked even harder – after all, space was generally bad for exposed skin – but the tummy that had broken free was… inflated fabric. Taut.

Familiar.

“Coming along nicely!” The AI sing-songed, watching the raccoon’s tail swell from base to tip, shrinking in slightly along with his limbs as he began to round out properly, entirely lost in the ever-building pressure as even his ears swelled up against the interior foam of the helmet…

After what seemed like an eternity, the drone returned – clamping onto the massive ball of a raccoon-turned-lift-balloon with the care of a dragonfly landing on a leaf. Tethers were attached to the raccoon’s feet and hands, and, with one last quick spray of instant-hardening space-rated paint, the words HEAVY LIFT were scrawled across his tummy.

“There!” The AI cheered, assigning the drone to drag the new lift balloon down to the worksite for his first job. “Let’s get started!”

Horsing Around (commission)

A commission for Caz!

Newt grinned, wiping their brow. After their last little bout of troublemaking a few towns back, they’d decided to lay relatively low – and, if they were honest, it’d been a well needed break!

Tonight’s stop was in a little creek bed, water trickling down from a spring up in the hills, and providing just enough cover that it’d be relatively hard to stumble across without meaning to.

“Ah…” The varmint sighed, washing their dusty paws off in the water. 

…until they noticed someone else in the reflection, the varmint casting a curious glance over their right shoulder.

On the rocks up above their little campsite, a figure stood. 

A coyote? A yellow and brown coyote, garbed in a tan outfit and a blue bandana, little six point star pinned to their chest. A… sheriff?

“Well, howdy,” The coyote drawled, tipping their hat. “Nice day for camping, huh?”

“…Kinda?” Newt said warily, sizing the newcomer up. They knew most of the sheriffs in these parts – they’d never seen this one before.

“I do have to be the bearer of bad news,” The sheriff chuckled, sliding down the little incline and dusting their jacket clean. 

“I’m here to take you back to town.”

“Town?” Newt intoned, glancing back at their pack near the little campfire they’d built. If they could just get across the creek…

“We can do it the easy way or the fun way,” The coyote grinned, grabbing a bit of rope from their belt. “Which’ll it be?”

Newt didn’t reply. They tried to jump up, making a run for the campfire – only to swiftly stop in their tracks as rope swiftly wrapped around their shoulders – pinning their arms to their midsection!

“Fun way it is!” The sheriff called, giving the rope a tug.

The rope itched – and then… tingled.

Fur beneath where it was tightest began to smooth over, patterns simplifying into approximations as the varmint’s fur began to change into soft, pliable vinyl. 

Another tug began to swell their tummy, little plastic nub starting to press out of their rounding midsection as the coyote watched, wide grin framing their face. 

“Your spree was awfully light,” The sheriff called as the varmint started to wobble on their increasingly inflatable thighs and legs, footpaws melting together into useless inflatable hooves. “So I figured a light punishment was in order! Plus, every sheriff needs a horse, right?”

“Horse?” Newt called in surprise, watching their handpaws swell up and melt together into slightly oversized inflatable hooves, just as their center of balance started to shift.

The varmint (horse?) wobbled, finally pitching over just as their posture shifted from their usual anthro bipedal shape to a more toyish quadrupedal shape! Out of the corner of their eyes they could see a vague saddle decal beginning to fill in on their back as their tail shrank down and expanded into a squeaky horse tail, rump swelling out as their shorts gave way.

Moving their head became harder and harder as their neck swelled up, cheeks filling up with air as they, too, turned to plastic. 

The changes seemed to stop for a moment – just long enough for the coyote to make their way over, and give their squeaky back a pat.

“W-Wait, change me ba-!”

Just as they started to finish their sentence the coyote plopped down on the oversized inflatable almost-horse – swelling their new face out with a loud SQUIRK of protesting plastic, new equine face swelling up complete with a printed on grin and decal reins. 

“Now,” The sheriff giggled, reaching under the horse and popping open their valve.

They wandered over to the camp as the horse began to go flat, rummaging through the bag before throwing it over their shoulder, scooping both it and the deflated pile of plastic up.

“Let’s get you back to town and have a little fun, huh?”

The next thing Newt knew they were gently refilling, the warm sun on their vinyl back drawing their attention first upwards – and then forwards, to the coyote pumping away on an old-timey air pump!

“Mornin’!” The coyote grinned, tipping their hat at the toy they knew couldn’t respond – just before a dusty rabbit skidded to a stop nearby, staring wide-eyed at the huge toy now adorning the front step of the sheriff’s office. 

“…Wow!” The bunny exclaimed, pressing their paws to their cheeks. “Is that really the Cheyenne Critter?!”

“Sure is!” The sheriff grinned, leaning on the toy with a slight protest of fabric against vinyl. The sheriff reached down, giving the toy’s valve a nice, long squeeze between two fingers. “Ponyboy here won’t be causing any more trouble, though.”

“Wow! You’re the greatest, Sheriff!” The bunny exclaimed, before darting off into town.

Hefting a little banner and dropping it over the toy’s back, the coyote offered a quick pay. “I think you’ll make a better advertisement than you did a bandit, pal. Thanks for the help!”

Air Dare (commission)

A commission for @Firr on twitter!

“What’s this box over here?” Cai asked aloud, hefting the little box and squinting at it. They’d been invited over to Firr’s place to help move a few things around, and were currently rummaging through some of the spare boxes littered around the room. “Some sort of party thing?”

“Dunno?” The skunk answered truthfully, scratching his head. “Just showed up one day on the step. Guessing it’s promotional?”

“Promotion for… what?” The collie asked, plopping the little box down on a table and squinting at it. A stylized inflatable tiger parade balloon stared back, looming over a cartoon city. “Air Dare”, it read in a sweeping retro font, complete with a few warning labels and a “10+” sticker. Some sort of party game, maybe?

“Party store? Rental place? No idea.”

“Huh.”

The collie lifted the top off, squinting inside. Inside was… nothing but a few little paper cards?

Rather disappointing, really.

“That’s it?” Cai mused aloud, plucking one of the little cardboard squares up and turning it over. “Some sort of truth or dare thing?”

By now Firr had wandered over, peeking into the shallow cardboard box with relative disinterest. Plucking a card of their own from the little scattered pile inside, he squinted at the text. “Dare the other player to earn their stripes.”

“Weird. Mine says the same thing.” Cai frowned, tossing the card aside. “They… all say the same thing. If this was a promo they’re doing a terrible, terrible job of it.”

The pair had just started to resume their slow moving of furniture when they were both struck by a sudden gassy feeling, as if they’d eaten something they shouldn’t have. 

“Ugh,” Cai grumbled, holding their tummy. “I haven’t even ate lunch yet, what gives?”

“Me, either,” Firr agreed, grumbling something about his shirt not fitting… and then pausing, as he realized something.

The collie’s tail looked weird – and weirder by the second, as it stretched and squeaked and inflated out into an increasingly oversized orange, white, and black tiger tail – pressing into the chairs they’d just moved!

“Y-Your tail?” Firr blinked, pointing – just as Cai noticed the skunk’s footpaws bloating outwards into huge, squishy orange and black paws. 

Tiger paws? Didn’t the card say something about stripes?

“Oh, no,” Cai groaned, their tummy starting to swell as the hiss of rushing air started to fill the room, the box being knocked off as Firr wobbled backwards as their tail swelled outwards with a loud PFOOMP, dislodging the table’s contents!

The pair wobbled as their poor shorts gave up against the relentless onslaught of tiger-patterned vinyl thighs, exploding outwards as they began to change from the waist upwards! Both of them quickly noticed their own natural patterns being… replaced, but worryingly they seemed to be identical, all the way down to the slight mismatches in detailing a factory might make! 

“Can’t… reach… the box!” Cai fussed, starting to press up against the ceiling (and against Firr) as the two began to take up more of the room, handpaws swelling into huge, oversized parade tiger paws as their shirts gave up the ghost – and filled the room with loud, rubbery squeaks and squirks. The hissing grew louder and louder, seemingly filling the two soon-to-be parade tigers even quicker!

With a loud thoomp Cai’s snout expanded out into a painted-on grinning parade tiger face, quickly followed by their hair shrinking away and ears shrinking down into little rounded inflatable tiger ears – and with that, poor Firr followed suit!

The hissing did not stop, though – after all, parade balloons were huge, and there was a lot more to fill!

The room steadily filled with orange and black vinyl, pressing up against first the walls, then each other – a tail exploding out a window, paws squeezing through doorways…

Finally, even the roof gave out – and a brand new pair of parade tigers now floated over the (slightly wrecked) house, tethered to the lawn!

Dog Days (commission)

A commission for @rockdog on twitter!

“What a day for a parade!”

Nate was grinning ear to ear, glancing down at the flyer clasped in their paws. Dog Days of Summer! it read in large, cartoonist font – covered in stylized balloons and a little printed mural of a sunny day. 

Enjoy a day at the park! Live entertainment, food, and a parade to finish it off – be there, this Saturday!

Well, they couldn’t exactly miss that, could they? Good thing they’d found the flyer in the first place, they’d have missed the event otherwise!

A quick crosstown bus ride later and the lycanroc was enjoying a fairground burger, idly wandering around the local park amidst an absolutely huge crowd of people – evidently everyone else had been just as ready for a saturday out as they had!

It was a great day out, in Nate’s opinion – games, food, a day in the sun – but, as the evening started to crawl closer, the lycanroc found themselves wandering around the fairground proper, peeking into the occasional tent or storage area to see what was around.

One of the tents, marked helpfully “parade supplies”, drew their attention the most. Inside was… gas. Helium tanks, it looked like? 

Probably for filling parade balloons! Shame this parade didn’t really have any, it seemed like a simple marching band affair.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, the lycanroc slipped into the tent – stepping over a few discarded yellow and white balloons to stand over one of the closer tanks. Maybe…

Without a second thought – perhaps even on impulse – the lycanroc stuffed the tank’s hose in their mouth and turned the valve until it was fully open.

Cool helium rushed into their snout, the cold sensation of gas hissing out of their nose lasting only a moment before something… fascinating began to occur.

Their usually grey nose began to swell, turning a soft pink as the smell of rubber filled their focus! Nate’s lupine snout began to round out slightly, being overtaken with soft yellows and browns and whites as it began to swell and stretch into something resembling a cartoonishly proportioned canine snout!

To say Nate was suddenly excited was an understatement – in fact, if the tank hadn’t already been opened as far as it could be they would’ve turned it higher!

“Mmph!” The lycanroc giggled, the cool helium gas starting to flow into their tummy proper, straining it against their clothes. Their usually red eyes first stained a light purple, before lightening into an almost electric blue – flattening out along with their nose and facial features into cartoony collie decals as their hair stretched and recolored into a rubbery blond mop!

Their overall proportions were shifting steadily, added height and lost weight starting to press Nate against the ceiling of the tent, even as their forepaws swelled and fused into huge, inflatable collie mitts, tearing the sleeves of their shirt!

“Mmm!” 

The first tank trickled to a stop, and with their huge unwieldy paws they weren’t getting another hose in their snout anytime soon.

Resorting to simply shoving their mouth over another tank, the mostly-collie grinned as the valve fell to the floor, tank stuck in the on position!

Their tail exploded outwards, huge and see-through yellow and brown latex wagging in the evening air outside now that they effectively took up most of the space. 

Rounding out further and further, Nate (or was it Cai?) dropped to all fours as their proportions shifted into something more befitting a parade collie, finally tearing free of the tent just as their changes drew to a close!

Little ropes tied themselves around the hooks on the collie’s paws, tethering them to the fairground just in time for the band to arrive for parade practice!

Their mind was a bit fuzzy for a moment, before it hit them – of course they were a parade collie, right? A big balloon dog for a dog days festival!

Besides, what kind of parade didn’t have balloons?