Boots 1 (ver 5) (Patreon)

@Millerdark made a great suggestion, that my Boots character be a rich snob instead of a fresh-out-of-school kid. It took me a while to get around to this, but I think you'll agree that this scene has more zest now.

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Botabriask was a legend at the Wealth & Power Apartment Complex even before he had even stepped one of his clawed feet inside the place. With each gem-encrusted new possession the movers and delivery crews hauled in, the other tenants would open their doors just a crack and peek out to ogle.

But one resident seemed far less impressed than the others. The black-and-white ringel stood on the top of Bota’s refrigerator and gave him a casual wave when he looked her way.

The bright-blue krakun stared at her for a long moment, flabbergasted that the little creature would have entered his new home uninvited. She was weird looking. All ringel looked weird with their striped fur, oversized mammaries, and external genitalia, but this one stood out as stranger than most. “Who are you?” he finally sputtered.

“I’m Ykahi,” she said without showing any concern for her own self-preservation. A long ladder ran down the side of the refrigerator, and when she stepped casually from the top, she gripped the ladder’s sides, sliding down without even touching the rungs. Then, she leapt gracefully to the counter before sliding past it. “I’m the closest you’re gonna get to a welcoming committee in this apartment building. Everyone here is so introverted that they wouldn’t tell you ‘ow’ if you hit them with a broom.”

The mental image made Botabriask grin. He doubted that any ringel could bruise a krakun with a ringel-sized broom. The same wouldn’t be true if someone his size tried that, but then again, finding a krakun-sized cleaning implements would be quite a feat. “So, that’s why you snuck into my apart—?”

The doorbell rang and Bota’s eyes flashed back and forth between Ykahi and whoever waited at his door. “Uh, stay right there,” he said, pointing a finger as if the gesture could somehow pin her to the countertop.

At the door, the krakun found a small delivery slave—a fuzzy geroo with his species’s characteristic wide hips and thick, muscular tail—at the controls of a forklift. Atop the pallet, he had stacked a wire cage and a cardboard box. “Bo-ta-bri-ask?” the slave carefully sounded out from his delivery manifest. “I’ve got your new cleaning crew!”

Ignoring the slaves huddled inside the cage, Bota grabbed the cardboard box. “Is it?” he asked, breathlessly, quickly scanning the shipping label with a digit. “It is!”

The krakun nearly tripped over his own claws in his hurry to turn about and rush back to the kitchen. Ykahi—he noted—hadn’t stayed put precisely where he told her to, but she hadn’t wandered far either. She now stood atop the breakfast bar, poking at the precious metal nicknacks that lined its edges. He grunted in frustration with her disobedience, but was so focused on finding a pair of scissors that could cut open the box that he didn’t bother yelling at her.

Botabriask rifled through the drawers. The moving crew had put away his possessions, of course, but everything was now in an unfamiliar place. “Ah ha!” he cried when he finally found them. With a snip, the scissors cut the twine holding the box shut, and he flipped the top open, exposing two shiny boots swaddled in red packing paper.

“Nice boots!” shouted Ykahi as she peeked over the breakfast bar’s edge.

Bota paused, his joy at finally receiving his new boots tempered by mammalian interruption. “Yes, they are,” he agreed, peering at the slave even as he pulled the golden boots free.

“Are they for dancing?” asked the ringel. She scampered gracefully back to the countertop, then resumed her casual stroll toward his new purchase. “I’ve never seen a krakun wear boots before.”

Bota blinked. Of all the slave races, the ringel were the most likely to speak their minds—whether that behavior was appropriately subservient or not. Any krakun who chose to keep ringel slaves had to be more tolerant than most. He rubbed his chin. “Well, I had planned—”

Ykahi looked up at him, straightening up on her tiny grabby-paws. “Did you know that there’s seven different dance clubs within walking distance of this apartment? Seven!” she repeated, holding up three fingers on one paw and four on the other. “Well, walking distance for you, I mean. If I tried walking to one, it would take all day.”

He gave her the side-eye. “Seven, really?”

“Yes, seven!” She pulled a strand from a belt holster and tapped furiously at its face. “I put them all on my map, but you probably can’t see because the screen’s so small.”

From the front door, the delivery slave shouted, “Thank you, sir!” Apparently, he’d grown tired of waiting for Bota to return and had released the caged slaves into the livingroom before driving away.

Beneath the still-open door with “2B” engraved on the surface, two dozen geroo huddled in a clump. “Well?” he shouted at them. “You are a cleaning crew are you not?”

The slaves exchanged hurried glances as they struggled to establish who would speak for them. Eventually, one slave took a step forward. “Yes, sir?” he shouted.

“Well…” said the krakun, rolling his eyes and dragging out the sound. “Go clean!”

“Yes, sir! Right away, sir. We’ll just put our cubs away to keep them out of trouble while we work,” said the slave. Flustered, he looked down and managed a brief flurry of movement before ending up back where he started. He looked around. “Um … sir? Where… Um… Where will we be staying when we’re not … working?”

Botabriask glanced at the ringel, but she merely shrugged. So, he grabbed the box his boots had come in and viciously sank the scissors into one side.

The geroo gasped and cowered.

Then, with a few snips, the krakun sliced out a hole that was roughly geroo-sized. He dropped the box to the floor and gave it a kick that sent it sliding into the corner. “Home sweet home,” muttered Bota. He took the strand from his necklace without looking back to the slaves. “Now, get to work.”

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Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1nLfRf2Qifz2YCEXkVsR7zb3qHPYvAVSoviN06Ujk7fE/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?