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Flamy the Fire-Fighting Friend! Part 2
🕑 Added 2022-01-21 03:44:53 +0000 UTCPart 2
“Sit Down, Jules.”
Somehow, Octavia seemed even angrier than she had been yesterday.
“W-what seems to be the proble—?”
“Shut up. Sit down. I’m the one asking the questions here, remember? You are a secretary, your sole purpose is to relay useless information to me, understand?”
Julius nodded and sat down. Octavia looked disheveled, like she was ready to snap at any moment and throw her secretary out of the massive bay window behind them.
She quickly calmed herself, rubbing her perfect, slender fingers from her cheeks, to her eyes, then to her thick, curly hair, which poofed back up in resistance to her hands. Her Italian-Hispanic heritage only made the developing crow’s feet on her face even more appealing. It was as if every imperfection only served to perfect her beauty even further.
“What did you do after the attack, Julius?”
Her eyes were still closed, awaiting an answer before they could reveal their true emotions.
“W-well, I walked home in the cold, then I…”
“So you’re telling me you didn’t collect any of the debts like I asked you to?”
Julius returned her determined stare with a confused one.
“Did you- did you not see the strange creature that attacked—?”
“YES I DID!” Octavia shouted in fury. “Don’t you dare act like I could miss such a hideous beast!”
She then took a moment to calm herself once again.
“That is besides the point. It did not attack you and then it left. Why did you not seize the opportunity at that moment?”
“Well, I- I didn’t know what it was capable of!”
“Ugh, don’t be naive. It only operates in bursts of 22 minutes,” she said in such a way to imply that Julius should have already known.
What else was Octavia aware of? She clearly had known about Flamy before his encounter with her. What exactly had Julius gotten himself into?
“You know, I’m starting to think that you aren’t actually a loyal employee of mine after all…” Octavia started, putting her hands in a thinker pose sarcastically as her eyes drifted to the upper left.
“W-wait!” Julius pleaded. “I am a loyal employee! Please! Just give me another chance!”
Octavia merely shut her eyes in disapproval, bringing her arms up to a condescending shrug.
“I already gave you another chance to prove your loyalty yesterday and you failed me. Why should I extend that luxury to you again? What, just because you’re a legacy employee means I treat you with any sort of respect? Keeping this ship afloat means zero mistakes, and you’ve already cost me two.”
“N-no please! M-my entire healthcare is tied around this job! My daughter is sick at home!”
“Then perhaps you should have thought of that before you let the enemy intimidate you in such a humiliating fashion!”
“E-enemy!?” Julius exclaimed in disbelief. A sneer immediately grew on Octavia’s face.
“What. Did I say. About asking me questions?” Her perfectly manicured nails balled into fist slowly, as if desiring to crush Julius’ head between them. “That’s it. You’re fired. Get the hell out of my office or I will have security remove you from the premises.”
Julius’ face fell. A ringing in his ears replaced all other audio. It was as if the stern, often strict Octavia he once knew had been replaced with some sort of demonic emissary from hell. One hard-coded to make his life as miserable as possible. There was no chance she’d hire him back short of a miracle.
His initial despondent denial was quickly replaced with anger.
“Fine then! Fire me!” Julius shouted back. “It’s only a matter of time before that Flamy creature finds you and overthrows you!”
Octavia’s face took on that of a reserved rage, staring down Julius.
“Don’t be so naive, fool. This roaming creature of a child's fantasy is not the clever beast that I am. So what? She stops the house fires that often plague my near-flawless infrastructure and beats up a few goons. She’d never be smart enough to recognize the issue at a systemic level. She possesses the intelligence quotient of the lizard she’s based on, and it’s one that doesn’t. Even. Exist.”
With every sentence, Octavia took a step closer. All of Julius’ anger and resentment had been suppressed, returned to fear. His brain had to choose between fight or flight, and a unanimous “flight” was chosen among its constituents.
He hurriedly walked out of the office, much to the amusement of his once-boss. He was on the verge of tears as he turned the corner and the elevators came into view.
What would he tell his daughter?
Meanwhile, Octavia lounged in her office’s ten-thousand-dollar chair. A satisfied, dirty smirk grew upon her face. Another incomplient, incompitent ingrate gone. She wasn’t worried about the hole created in his absence, the investments she was making in automation would replace his job soon enough.
She exited her chair and strutted casually over to her personal mini-bar. Though “mini” was a rather unhelpful descriptive term for it, to say the least.
She poured herself the perfect glass of scotch, a break from the usual wine formula, and walked over to the bay window overlooking her achievements.
“This entire city is mine…” she spoke to herself, pausing to take a sip of her amber liquid.
Her thought process was suddenly interrupted by the taste!
“Ew, is scotch supposed to taste this bitter and miserable?”
She then looked around to make sure no one heard her say that. This was Laphroaig Single Malt! One of the most expensive and fanciest drinks around! And… she didn’t like it at all!
“Uggh! Bleck!” She exclaimed, trying and failing to escape the taste in her mouth. “I can’t believe adults are expected to like this shit!”
Her mind was then immediately reminded of the simple, loving flavor of grape juice. Wine was only passable to her because it reminded her so much of it. It was her drink of choice as a child, equal parts sugary goodness and a dopamine rush as reward for finishing her lunch.
So why didn’t she have any in her useless mini bar?
Octavia sighed angrily, but that anger was quickly quelled by an overwhelming nostalgic happiness. She could never forget the greatness that was the holy water of processed-to-all-hell juice. A passive smile couldn’t help but grow on her face.
Then, a sharp twinge within Octavia’s stomach caused her to hunch over and grab her chest in brief agony. The glass of scotch fell out of her hand and shattered upon hitting the ground.
“Oh, no no… Not now, not now!” she pleaded to a universe unsympathetic to her cries. “It’s not supposed to happen for another five days at least!”
Her breathing became stilted as she grunted in distress. Falling to hands and knees, Octavia’s pupils shrunk in intensity as she heard a distinctive riiiiiiipipipip, a sound only produced upon the tearing of italian onyx spider silk, which all her dresses were made of.
She was growing bigger.
Pop! Pop! Came the sound of her high-heel straps in unison as her feet expanded out of them, thickening alongside her once smooth, perfect legs.
“C’mon… keep it together! Y-you can fight her!” Octavia spoke through gritted teeth, chastising her own body for its perceived incompetence against a foe she had become all too familiar with over the past few weeks.
A quick gaze at her thickening hands revealed threatening claws with dull ends. They almost appeared to bear a plastic quality to them.
Octavia’s rear exploded out of her pencil skirt, a tenacious cocktail of burgeoning hips, a widening waist…
…and a tail with a pattern of prehistoric plates to it.
Octavia closed her eyes in concentration, hoping one last focused effort could stop the inevitable. But as her size increased further and her head morphed into something that felt unrecognizable, hope was all but lost.
Her eyes opened. Gone were the gorgeous, forest green pupils with a feisty energy behind them that captured every man’s heart with just a first glance. Lazy, golden irises with nothing behind them were all that remained. A protruding snoot beneath accompanied with buck teeth confirmed the transformation as a wide, dopey smile grew on what was once Octavia’s face.
“Hello world! How-dee do? Your Fire-Fighting Friend is here to help!” came a silly voice that resembled the exact opposite of Octavia’s smooth, sensual voice. The rich woman’s voice had an equally rich history to it, always containing a bit of threatening passon deep within it. There was no such nuance to this voice.
Octavia was no more. For the next 22 minutes, TV time slots permitting, Flamy was in control. Season three, episode five was airing ahead of schedule.
~
As the elevator doors opened to street level, a despondent Julius took until the doors threatened to close before he reluctantly made his exit. Every door on his trek home proved the same emotionally-charged challenge.
The world around him seemed to fade into a watercolor mess as he sulked home in a slouch. His life was already stressful enough as is, trying to find a new job while wondering if he could put food on the table the next day was not a future he wanted to undertake.
Then, as if matters weren’t already bad enough, he tripped over uneven pavement and fell over the nearest guardrail.
His focus was ripped back into the present, where three things became immediately clear to him: one, there was a great fall before him; two, he was walking on a bridge before; three, he couldn’t swim.
This was it. He was going to die.
All he could do was brace himself for impact with the water, only for it to never arrive. Was he dead? He could still feel the wind around him, what was going on?
“That woulda been a nasty spill, fella!” a familiar voice suddenly called out. “Always make sure to be extra careful around bridges, especially at night!”
Opening his eyes, Julius found himself in a fireman’s carry, held bridal style by clawed hands. He directed his attention to the face of his savior, who responded with a cheerful smile.
Flamy flew Julius back to the bridge, placing him down in the exact same spot he had tripped from earlier before landing next to him.
“T-thank you, Flamy! You just saved my life!” Julius exclaimed, still a bit shook from what had just transpired.
“Of course! It’s what a fireman strives for, after all! And I couldn’t have done it without the magic flight power of Philly Queen’s Cheesesteak Sandwich!”
She then lifted up what appeared to be a Philly Cheesesteak fit for a girl her size, oozing with cheese and overloaded with meat.
This was just getting weirder and weirder to Julius. Her flight power was arbitrarily attached to eating… Philly Cheesesteaks? He didn’t even have the heart to tell Flamy that Philly Queen went out of business ten years ago.
“Welp, if that’s all you need help with, I’ll be on my way!”
“...Well, uh, there’s actually one thing I think you can help me with.”
“Of course! What is it, Mr. civilian?”
“I just lost my job of fifteen years and I have no idea how to break the news to my daughter that we’re likely going to be in financial trouble… how would I explain that to her?”
Flamy’s cheerful face faltered slightly. No immediate response came from her. It was as if a question of this relative weight had never been asked of her before. The cheerful music in the background stopped, something that Julius hadn’t even noticed until its abrupt end.
“Uh, well, maybe I can go over there and cheer her up?”
That wasn’t a very confident answer. The first time Flamy had sounded anything less than 100% sure of herself. But despite the uncertainty, she still accompanied Julius back to his house, having to slow down her already awkward walk cycle due to how massive her strides were.
But as they were on route, Julius noticed something he dreaded to find the source of.
A large pillar of smoke was stretching into the sky. Focusing his hearing, he could just barely make out sirens that were blaring in the distance.
“Oh no… Is that a fire!?”
“A fire! Where!?” Flamy asked, excited for such a cut and dry problem for her to solve, especially one that was her M.O.
It wasn’t long before the two of them were airborne again, Flamy carrying Julius by his arms as they flew towards the source of the smoke. Sure enough, three houses were set ablaze. Octavia wasn’t kidding when she said her housing infrastructure had fire problems.
But to make matters worse, the middle house was his house!
“Ah! Flamy! That house in the middle is my house! I-I think my daughter’s still at home!”
“Not to worry! Look who’s arrived!”
Sure enough, the local fire department was at the scene and using their common tactics to put out the fire.
“They're pulling out a long ladder and that will mean they can get right up to the top where we can see the smoke and put out the flames that are less mature!” Flamy exclaimed.
Julius raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Uh, okay!?”
Flamy then continued with her analysis of the scene, despite the fact that no one asked.
“That fireman has a giant hose, and just look how much water is coming out of the end of there! Very cool! The water is coming out so fast and it's so powerful that it's able to reach all the way up to the top where the smoke is coming out of the second floor!”
“Flamy! I think they need your help more than I do!”
“Oh yeah, you’re right!”
She made a cute face, showing off her innocence and sticking her tongue out before flying down in a corkscrew to reach street level in a flash.
The momentum from her maneuver should have ripped Julius to pieces, yet he wasn’t even dizzy when she landed. Was he too succumbing to the strange effects of Flamy’s cartoon “aura?” He certainly didn’t feel any dumber. Perhaps that only applied to her enemies?
“Alright, stand back Julius, I’m gonna show this no-good fire what’s what!”
She stomped forward in a huff, rolling up her sleeves in an exaggerated fashion as if she was about to fist-fight the flames.
And then that’s exactly what happened.
A portion of the flames that composed the fire on Julius’ front porch suddenly manifested into a human-like outline of arms with boxing gloves and a head. It then squared up into a brawler pose, as did Flamy.
Everyone in the area watched in disbelief as a bell sounded off to mark the start of the fight.
The two cartoon creations then began to duke it out, trading blow after blow as they contorted their bodies to weave around attacks while responding with strikes of their own.
But then, the flames decided to fight dirty, suddenly pointing to something that was apparently behind Flamy and silently urging her to turn around. Flamy then did as the fire asked, turning her attention away from it to try and look for what it was referring to for an almost comical amount of time.
The flames then rubbed its hands together devilishly, taking off one of it’s flaming boxing gloves only to sneak some flames in the shape of a horseshoe inside before slipping the glove back onto its hand.
“Wait a minute! I don’t see anything!” Flamy exclaimed, turning around only for the flames to throw a punch at her with the hidden horseshoe fist. Flamy ducked slightly and the flames collided with her fireman’s hat with such ferocity that the entire universe seemed to shake briefly from the cartoonish punch that was packed.
Yet, the attack resulted in the flaming personification recoiling its fist back in pain, hopping up and down as it gripped its flaming hand to attempt to soothe it.
Flamy chuckled schemingly, taking off her hat to reveal a large ice block, one definitely too large to be contained within her hat. On the front side of the massive frozen cube was a fist-shaped dent where her flaming adversary had supposedly struck.
The blue dragon then re-secured her hat on her head and started throwing a hailstorm of successful punches into the flames, beating it to a pulp until it died and its flaming ghost exited its body.
“Oh no, I’m not done with you!”
Somehow grabbing the heavenly spirit of the fire, she shoved it back into its body. The fire was brought back to life, only for Flamy to wail on it some more with devastating blow after blow until it had been dizzied and little flaming birds were circling around its head.
She then wound up one final punch, her arm twisting around itself again and again at the elbow as if the joint were replaced with the axle of a wheel.
Flamy delivered the final blow and the flaming persona was extinguished, alongside all of the other fire that had spread. All of the properties afflicted were suddenly returned to normal as if there was never any fire to begin with.
A round of applause from all the other firefighters ensued and Julius’ daughter ran out of the front door unscathed, jumping into her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face.
“Oh my god, Maxine! Thank goodness you’re okay!” Julius said, comforting his daughter as she shivered in his arms.
“Flamy! That was amazing!” Julius exclaimed with tears in his eyes. “Y-you saved my daughter!”
“Well, they don’t call me a firefighter for nothin’!” she responded with a smile, tipping the bow of her hat.
The firemen began an inspection of the houses, imploring Flamy to sit by the wayside. Partially because she had done all the work for them but also because her ample form wouldn’t exactly fit inside the cramped homes of modern urban living.
So Flamy and Julius just popped a seat on the sidewalk, Maxine still firmly held within her father’s grasp. Once the tears had ceased, she gazed at the surreal dragon next to her in awe.
“Are you really Flamy?” the child asked with wide eyes. Julius was almost surprised that his daughter knew the name of the cartoony creature.
“You bet’cha! I’m the real deal, little one!”
She then booped Maxine on the nose, which caused her to giggle.
“Does that mean Burny and Aquadog are here too?” Maxine asked, looking around with excitement in her hopeful eyes.
Flamy, however, did not share such optimism in her expression.
“No, they’re not. I… I guess I haven’t seen them in a while.”
“Burny and… who?” Julius asked, finally vocalizing some of his confusion.
“They were my best buds and fellow fire fighting friends… but I don’t know where they went. I guess I never considered that they could just… disappear.”
She looked despondent, but now it was Maxine’s turn to cheer Flamy up. “It’s okay, Flamy! You were my favorite dragon anyways! I’m just glad you and daddy are best friends!”
That put the smile back onto Flamy’s face.
When the firemen finished their search, Julius brought his daughter up to bed. As a very busy man, he hadn’t paid much attention to the specific toys or merch she liked to play with. But something caught his eye.
It was a plush of Flamy.
“S-she’s an actual cartoon character?” Julius whispered to himself, a sort of existential dread washing over him. No wonder his daughter was taking it so well.
He ran back outside where, thankfully, Flamy was still waiting for him. He had a ton of questions to ask her, especially considering his current theory revolved around wormholes, but she didn’t look very good.
“Flamy? Are you okay?”
“Golly, I’m… Oof!” She gripped her stomach in pain. “Must’a ate something weird, Julius. I think I’ve got a tummy ache. I’m just… usually back to the station by now…”
“C-can I get you something, or…?” It seemed like a stupid question, but Julius couldn’t help but be sympathetic to the big goofball.
“N-no, I just… Yurk!”
Her entire body spazzed out, striking several different hyperbolic poses before falling face down.
And then, as if the past two days hadn’t been the most insane ones in his entire life, something else happened that completely floored Julius.
Flamy’s body began to shrink, her blue skin returning to a rather familiar tan color as her form became less draconic in appearance. The fireman's clothes faded, leaving the unmistakable naked body of his former boss, Octavia Mason, splayed out along the concrete.
A quick glance up at a floating security drone pointing its camera directly at her unconscious body brought an idea to his head.
