Last month provided some great ideas and images, so here we go again!
Drop your ideas, your wishes, your desires. We got some nice WildeHopps images and a little story to go with one last month, so let's give it another go! Let us know what you want to see drawn or blurbed or both, depending.
Again, the rules are as follows: Do read them, yes.
1) You must be an active, paid Patreon to drop an idea.
2) Zootopia-Centric ideas. Zoosonas allowed but not guaranteed.
3) No non-WildeHopps. Meaning, no Judy/Nick with anyone else, in threesomes, or other such things. Not our thing.
4) If you have a sexy idea, submit the idea in non-graphic language. If that isn't possible, send a message. This is a PG-13 Patreon and we want to keep it that way. Sexy ideas will be posted on DA and Tumblr.
5) The choice of what is picked is up to Weaver and myself. How many are picked is up to us and not every one will be picked. Don't be afraid to drop multiple ideas. Fun/creative ideas are always a plus!
6) When you drop your idea, do not offer it as an art or writing idea. Just an idea. Weaver and I will pick whatever ideas we feel compelled to work on.
7) Not all ideas will be chosen. This is a drop box for us to pick ideas from, not for us to attempt to draw every one. (See Rule #7)
8) Following the above, this isn't a tier based drop box. All Patreons are free to post in comments. Whether the chosen is a sketch, inked, fully colored, written, whatever, it is the ideas we pick.
9) Very important: This WILL NOT distract us from Sunderance or our other projects. This is actually intended to also help keep us motivated, and sometimes it takes a little kick in the ass to get an artist or writer moving on a big project.
This is for our Patreons, to thank everyone who continues to support us. We deeply appreciate it and love you all for sticking around as long as well have and will continue to!
Now enough reading! Give us your ideas! Annnnnnd go!
In a sudden burst of inspiration and nostalgia for the old days, this came about. In honor of the Halloween season, I present you Nicolás Silvestre and his loyal steed slash partner Tornado, on the hunt for evil.
ZNN’s star reporter and most trusted paw of Director Lagopus. Arctic fox Victoria Harridan is easily one of the most sensational figures in Zootopia.
A relatively young newcomer within the mammalian media, her background possesses next to no formal schooling on journalism, as she began her career as a keen columnist just soon following graduation. By the next decade she would quietly rise alongside the vulpine ascension, before finding major breakthrough under the ZNN spotlight, which brought her front and center before the eyes and ears of the animal populace.
The public would believe that the political reformations that disproportionately lean on vulpine favoritism allowed Harridan the recognition she needed to grab the media outlets, an insinuation which would come off as little more than mockery. Harridan never earned her status to specie bias alone, but depended solely on her investigative savviness and alluring charisma, which alone enticed the most powerful broadcasters in the city-state, if not merely the Propagandist himself. This privilege Harridan thoroughly exploits, as she prides on being able to have seduced a whole city by the mere curve of her lips, brilliantly lit under camera flashes and good lighting.
_______________
Just a quick update: The next chapter is well underway! Expect updates in the near future.
“You’re, uh,” the fox began, looking down at the stiff expression of the bunny standing beside him as the mammals of Zootopia shuffled around the mostly empty train station, “Not what I expected?”
“What did you expect?” the bunny asked without looking up at him. Actually, from what he could tell, she didn’t move much of anything at all as they stood at the railway station together.
“I’m not sure. Another fox, a wolf maybe? I didn’t expect someone so c-” He stopped mid work when he saw her nose twitch and her already hard face tighten, quickly fishing for a replacement that wouldn’t get him killed, “…short.”
“Don’t worry,” she said coolly, reaching up to absently toy with the knot of her tie. “I don’t need to be tall to protect you from Bunnyburrow.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said quickly, his paws tightening on his briefcase for a moment as he glanced down the tracks, “I am grateful that you even offered. It wasn’t like there were a lot of mammals from Bunnyburrow willing to take on the job of protecting a fox.”
“That’s because going to Bunnyburrow to defend Mr. Grey is going to get you swarmed,” she commented, raising one paw to check her watch. “No one wants to risk getting themselves mobbed by bunnies for your ideals.”
“Then why are you doing it?” he asked, trying to keep his tail from bristling as he felt he was being taunted for trying to defend an innocent mammal. That, and, as he glanced as his own watch, he realized that the train was running late.
“Because I know I can keep you from vanishing under a pile of amorous bunnies,” she said, shoving her paw back into her pocket as she returned to her stoic stance. “Did you know that there are two things in Bunnyburrow that you can rely on?”
“Death and taxes?”
He was surprised by the little snort that escaped her, as much as he was by the flash of bright violet eyes he saw through the top of her sunglasses before she turned them to face him fully. The little twitch of her nose, which was so brief he almost believed he had imagined it, only reinforced the idea in his mind that she was adorable.
“Okay, three things,” she amended as she waved on paw down the tracks. “The third being the train. It is fully automated, computer controlled and, barring natural disaster, it is always on time.”
“Oh?”
“I also made sure the train was completely empty today,” she added, causing him to blink slightly that she had that kind of pull in Bunnyburrow, “for your protection.”
“It can’t be that reliable,” he said, frowning as he glanced at his watch again before he ran the train schedule through his mind. “It’s already two minutes late.”
“That’s because I blew it up,” she said, causing his muzzle to drop open in shock with his ears flattened as she turned to face him fully with her paws still in her pockets. “You’re welcome. Shall we do lunch?”
Drop your ideas, your wishes, your desires. We got some nice WildeHopps images and a little story to go with one last month, so let's give it another go! Let us know what you want to see drawn or blurbed or both, depending.
Again, the rules are as follows: Do read them, yes.
1) You must be an active, paid Patreon to drop an idea.
2) Zootopia-Centric ideas. Zoosonas allowed but not guaranteed.
3) No non-WildeHopps. Meaning, no Judy/Nick with anyone else, in threesomes, or other such things. Not our thing.
4) If you have a sexy idea, submit the idea in non-graphic language. If that isn't possible, send a message. This is a PG-13 Patreon and we want to keep it that way. Sexy ideas will be posted on DA and Tumblr.
5) The choice of what is picked is up to Weaver and myself. How many are picked is up to us and not every one will be picked. Don't be afraid to drop multiple ideas. Fun/creative ideas are always a plus!
6) When you drop your idea, do not offer it as an art or writing idea. Just an idea. Weaver and I will pick whatever ideas we feel compelled to work on.
7) Not all ideas will be chosen. This is a drop box for us to pick ideas from, not for us to attempt to draw every one. (See Rule #7)
8) Following the above, this isn't a tier based drop box. All Patreons are free to post in comments. Whether the chosen is a sketch, inked, fully colored, written, whatever, it is the ideas we pick.
9) Very important: This WILL NOT distract us from Sunderance or our other projects. This is actually intended to also help keep us motivated, and sometimes it takes a little kick in the ass to get an artist or writer moving on a big project.
This is for our Patreons, to thank everyone who continues to support us. We deeply appreciate it and love you all for sticking around as long as well have and will continue to!
Now enough reading! Give us your ideas! Annnnnnd go!
“Well, let’s get started then,” she said, standing with her paws resting on her hips and a thoughtful expression on her muzzle. “What’s your name?”
“Nick.”
She paused for a moment at the simple, single-worded answer with her paw resting on the corner of her muzzle. He could see her mind working, even when her eyes left him for a moment until she located her hat lying on the ground at his feet. She swayed her hips even as she closed that tiny distance between them, her eyes boring into the lenses of his sunglasses before she bent at the hip. It seemed that her body took the long way down, given how long it took relative to what she was doing, offering him another view of her rump and hips being hugged tight by the blue dress. Maybe it was her way of trying to let him see what he was missing out on again, or simply an attempt to distract him as she thought up another question. Whatever the case, when she rose up and placed the hat back on her head with a grin and a flourish, she seemed to have finished her considering.
“Since you’re sly enough to force two questions out of one, what’s your last name?”
“Unimportant,” he replied simply, easily reminding himself that there was a far superior ass waiting for him at Wild Times.
“Well then Nick Unimportant,” she quipped, the quick retort making it obvious that she had expected something like that and it was enough to draw a quick smirk to his muzzle, “I will count that as a non-question then, since you didn’t give an answer. Six left. Did the Council or Administrator send you to protect the bunny?”
“No.”
“Do you work for someone in The Commonwealth?”
“No.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Miss Hopps.”
“I get the feeling that you’ve prepared for these questions,” she murmured under her breath, setting her paws on her hips as she narrowed her eyes at him. Then, a smile slowly grew as those narrowed eyes brightened to the point of sparkling. “Which means they’ve been asked before. Here I am, chasing you down as if you’re my own personal mystery, but…”
“But?”
The way she allowed it to trail off as she looked at him as if she could see through him caused the fur on the back of his neck tingle with the desire to rise, and for slightly less than a second, he felt an odd desire to back away from her when she stepped closer to him. Eyes that still shone with understanding bored into his.
“She doesn’t know any more than I do,” she said with a definitive tone that told him that it was not a question, causing his ears to drop when she reached up to drill one clawed finger into his chest in a light but insistent prod. Like a kit poking a frog to make it croak for their delight. “These questions have been asked before, and with how easily you answered, that means you’ve given the same answers. So even though you claim to work for her and have been seen multiple times fighting – quite well, I might add – to defend her at the risk of your own life, she has no idea who you are.”
A tightness stuck in his chest so deeply that it took a great deal of effort to keep his expression blank as he continued to look down at her. The truth behind her words struck him even as he ignored the obvious delight in her eyes. It wasn’t even the fact that he had intentionally kept so much from Judy. It was the fact that this reporter, a vixen he had only just met, knew almost as much about who he really was as Judy did.
With only four questions answered.
“There’s some real emotion,” the reporter murmured, making him realize that she had moved so close to him that her muzzle was almost brushing over his. Actually, did brush his very briefly before he was able to yank his head back, his paws clenched at his side when she pulled away of her own accord. “She means something to you, then. Something more than a weak, helpless bunny in need of a big, strong fox to watch over her.”
“She’s not weak,” he snapped, repressing a growl when she released a pleased little coo followed by a shiver of delight rather than seeming intimidated. Closing his eyes and cooling his temper, a temper that had risen more at himself than the reporter in front of him, he drew himself up with both paws adjusting his tie. “You have three more questions.”
“True,” she said, her sigh signaling her realization that her advantage had been lost. She reached up to run her paw over the rim of her hat, then glanced at him again. “You are the only one who agreed to protect Hopps. I know now there is something… more now. That much is obvious, otherwise, we would still be stuck hip to hip right now. But she’s just an unknown Commonwealth lawyer, and aside from the Gideon Grey case, not someone of note in Zootopia. Why did you agree to protect her at first?”
“Unimportant. Next question,” he said simply. The desire to leave now was like an itch under his fur that he couldn’t take the time to scratch, at least until he was back in Wild Times.
“Oh my. Could it be?” she questioned, her eyes focused on his face with an uncomfortably intense level of scrutiny for a moment before she turned to pace away from him with a little smile on her muzzle. When she turned back with a flourish of her tail, he was relieved when she moved to the next question. “Do you think Miss Hopps is going to win her appeal?”
“I’m not a lawyer,” he replied simply, but knowing that if he passed her next question could return to the tougher questions, he expanded his answer, “but if the court system in Zootopia is fair, then she should.”
“As necessary as it was, that was such a boring question,” she muttered, more to herself than to him as she sighed and looked him over from top to bottom. “I have more than enough for now. I think I’ll hold onto what’s left of my questions, to be cashed in when I need more.”
“Hold onto them? I won’t be meeting with you again.”
“Oh, no face to face required,” she chirped cheerfully, hold her paws out as if showing him that she had no tricks. “No more alleyway meetings or attempts at seduction. I find that I don’t like being turned down, nor does my sore tail, so I won’t give you another chance in that area.”
“I’ll try to restrain my overwhelming sorrow.”
“Sarcastic humor,” she chuckled throatily, rubbing her paws together. “So very fox of you. But I don’t like to waste good questions, especially when they are so limited. I have Hopps’ direct line and you have your receipt. Consider it a stay of execution if you like.”
“Fine,” he said, his voice as stony as the expression on his face as he walked towards the mouth of the alley.
“Should I..?” she began, then cut herself off when he paused at the street, drawing a laugh from her as she slapped a paw to her muzzle. “Almost wasted a question there. I’ll text you, Nick Unimportant!”
Her heart was still beating much faster than it had ever been, so much so that she could feel the rapid throb of it under the paw she had pressed to her chest. She had done reports on gang wars, predator attacks, and had interviewed the Trample Murderer all in her third year as a reporter. Somehow, none of them had affected her like this. It wasn’t fear that caused the feeling, though there had been a certain sense of dealing with a carefully caged beast. It was anticipation, excitement, and a pure high that came from a once in a lifetime journalistic opportunity. Even as it started to slow, she took some deep breaths to calm herself and imagined all the things that would come.
Victoria Harridan had just interviewed the one fox that everyone in Zootopia wanted to know about, and it was going to send her ratings and her carrier through the…
Thoughts of grandeur in the halls of journalism were interrupted when her phone rang, snapping her back to the reality of the car around her and the pawful of notes that she had hastily tapped into her laptop. Frowning at the interruption, she lifted the phone and stared at the signal for a video call that flashed repeatedly with a merry jingle and a golden crest that she had never seen before. Curiously, she swiped her finger-pad over the symbol and spoke cautiously.
“This is Victoria.”
“Hello, Miss Harridan,” said the crisp image of the sharp-muzzled Red Fox vixen, who sat with her paws folded neatly on the desk in front of her and sharp golden eyes focused on the screen. “This is the Administrator.”
Nick: These tomatoes are same color as your blush first time I saw you naked. These honeydew melons fit my paw same as your rear. You should like this carrot since it's roughly the same size as...
“I don’t dance, Carrots,” he said when the bunny beside him did a little jig in place, one that had her hips wiggling with every step. The fact that he didn’t manage to keep his eyes off those hips as they moved, or the happy twitch of her tail above that perfectly toned…
“Nick, are you staring at my butt again?”
“It’s adorable,” he said, wondering why he was more embarrassed that she had so easily read him than that she had caught him looking at her butt again. Maybe being official partners was relaxing him to the point that even his absolutely ludicrous attraction to her was easy to pass off as banter? “Butt, back to the other subject, have you ever seen me dance?”
“At the concert,” she chirped, turning to face him. The way she kept walking backwards without tripping reminded him that she had been working the beat in the ZPD while he was sweating it out at the academy. Looking at him with eyes that positively sparkled in the lights of the dark parking lot, her paws folded behind her back in a look at the was almost innocent. Almost, until she continued. “I just had to give you a little hip bump.”
“Yeah and to an upbeat pop song I started doing ‘The Hustle’,” he said, trying to keep his memory from returning to the swift but crotch accurate nudge she had given him. “In public.”
“Yeah, while I bounced up and down like a lunatic,” she said, holding her paws out in front of her as she shifted her shoulders up and down playfully. “I can promise you, I was the only one who saw you do it. But that doesn’t count as us going dancing. The dancing was incidental!”
“I’m just going to do The Hustle again,” he warned her, reaching up reflexively to give his badge a quick polish with his sleeve. A month in and its weight was still both odd and a comfort on his chest. “Are you going to bump me with your butt again?”
“It was my hip,” she said, making him grin when sharp night vision saw the inside of her ears darken a little.
“Your hip, huh?” he said, stopping with his paws crossed over his chest as he looked down at her. “I remember distinctly. It was full butt-on-crotch contact.”
“Well it was an accident!” she protested, rolling her eyes as she kept walking towards the cruiser. “It was my first Gazelle concert and I was excited!”
“Yeah, so was I after that accident,” he muttered under his breath, clearing his throat when her ears perked, and she cast a surprised glance over her shoulder at him. “But if you insist, I suppose we could go dancing.”
“Whoo hoo!” she exclaimed, literally bouncing over to him and jumping up to wrap her arms around his neck in an exuberant hug. “This is going to be fuuuuuun!”
The last little bit was an exclamation of surprise when he wrapped one paw around her hip, swung her around and dipped her back gracefully. The titter of laughter that escaped her and the bright grin that she turned up to him had his heart skipping a few quick beats.
“I thought you couldn’t dance,” she said when he took her paw and held the dip.
“I said I don’t dance,” he replied, returning her grin as her ears dipped back and their eyes met, “I never said I couldn’t.”
We need more ideas, folks. Only a few so far! Don't be afraid. Reply in the original Drop Box post to see the rules and request things you've always wanted to see!
The fox could never understand why everyone always wanted to meet in dark alleys, particularly a reporter of some fame in the city. With the hum and shuffle of mammals on the streets beyond this clearly seldom used sliver of side road, he knew it was doubtful that anyone would randomly wander into the alley. Which was the point, though with every other quiet spot and hidden door in the city it did seem a little dramatic. Then there was the bright red of the almost familiar crest was painted on the wall behind him, ignored for the most part even as the nine spikes rose up in a sort of dangerous halo around him. The spray paint below it red in the same dark red ‘Welcome to the Foxes Den’ and had him silently wondering if this spot had been chosen because of it. Even without that reminding looming behind him, the dank atmosphere and old non-smell of scent neutralizer that had been sprayed on the walls was enough to make his fur feel itchy under his suit, causing him to tap his claws over his crossed arms impatiently. Of course, he wasn’t really trying to fool himself into thinking that it was the setting that annoyed him. It wasn’t even the fact that the reporter was late, if only by a minute.
Being separated from Judy after being within arms reach of her almost constantly in the past week had his nerves on edge. What was normally self-preservation, a sort of instinct that had kept him safely out of the public eye for so long, had been discarded in favor of making sure that she survived. The choice had not been made lightly, though he had made it quickly because he had not been stupid enough to believe that her entry into Zootopia would remain out of the media. Still, it had never been in the cards to walk up to a reporter and let them throw questions his way. Something that would have made him fade into the shadows for years was something he walked into willingly just to get the rabbit a slip of paper that might or might not help her with her case.
Of course, before she had come along he had also all but managed to remove the desire for female companionship from his life. Years of solitude, years of self-control, time spent without letting himself be tempted by the softly sweet musk of a vixen had quickly broken down when libido and emotions had slapped him across the muzzle. His guard had been down because she was a bunny. Not just down. Non-existent. So, when his body and instincts had registered willing female, he had been unprepared for the impact. So unprepared that the rush of desire had slipped right past his libido, his common sense, and the fact that she was a bunny until desire was only a part of the whole. It was something he was going to have to learn to live with.
Or without when she finally left the city after the case.
Not so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t notice the light sound of clawed footsteps heading in his direction, his eyes lifted behind the sunglasses to the only entry for the alley. The vixen that moved towards him did so with the self-confidence of someone who was used to dealing with mammals of all kinds and coming out on the winning end of those deals. She also moved with a decidedly graceful sway of her hips and tail that caused his eyes to pause on those tightly bound hips. The dark blue, strapless blue dress she wore over snow-white fur was just the right level of tight that he was able to see every last curve of the lithe, gorgeous body without being so tight that it strangled her fur. His gaze lifted again as she closed the distance, finding her expression as eager as it was it sharp under an angled homburg hat that rested in front of her dipped ears.
“The Mystery fox in the flesh, again,” she said, her voice nearly a purr of delight as she took a moment to look him up and down slowly, an action that she completed with a deep sigh of what was obviously appreciation. “If I had known what a hit you would become, I would have followed you from the courthouse the first time I saw you.”
He searched his memory of the day of the courthouse, his first encounter with reporters in longer then he cared to remember. The image of her standing at the lead of the group of reporters popped into his mind clearly, right down to the annoyed expression on her face when he had told the entire group of them to ‘stay’. In all honesty, he had been surprised it had worked as well as it had, but then the fact was that no one knew who he was. Any display of authority had clearly been taken from the group of them as someone who had actual authority.
Still, he said nothing as they sized each other up, something that did not seem to bother the reporter much in the slightest as she pressed on after a few seconds.
“Victoria Harridan,” she said, her tone keeping a professional edge while managing to hold onto the edge of sexual energy that her entire outfit and stance seemed to radiate. “Reporter for ZNN. But more importantly, a big fan. I’m so glad that we managed to meet like this. I have so many questions…”
“Ten.”
The sudden introduction of his voice and the single word that he spoke caused her to lose her stride for half a beat before she managed to mask her surprise behind a curious smile. “Ten what?”
“Ten questions,” he clarified, watching her ears drop marginally as the limitation of their meeting was set. “I will answer ten questions. If I tell you to skip a question, drop it and it won’t count towards the ten. Or you could just give me what I came for.”
“I was hoping we could have a civilized conversation,” she said, her smile slowly returning as she took a few steps closer to him. It was hard to deny that she was good at masking her emotions, at least after the fact, though she had obviously made no attempt to mask her scent. The fact that most foxes wore scent-mask in public didn’t apply when two foxes intended to be intimate, as what was harsh and strong to the nose of many was deeply appealing to the opposite sex. “Get to know each other by more traditional dialog, rather than consider this an interview or prisoner exchange.”
“Dialog,” he said, keeping his tone as cool even as she reached up to smooth one small paw along the lapel of his jack. He might have chosen not to delve into the carnal or romantic side of vixens for years, but he did remember how they worked when they wanted something. The alluring scent, the light tilt upward of the muzzle as if in offer, the twitch-twitch and sway of the tail, and finally the playfully submissive drop of the ears as she looked up at him. “Were you planning this ‘dialog’ to be before or after I’ve fucked you?”
The silky roll of laughter that escaped her was filled with shocked surprise as much as it was with actual humor at his words. Though she didn’t seem to take his blunt words as an attempt to call her out for her actions, as was apparent by the way her fingers tugged at his jacket gently. She only moved closer, kept her stance the same even as her paw moved to slide over his chest and under his jacket.
“Of the four complete sentences you’ve spoken to me, all of them have been so forceful in their own way,” she murmured, obviously as delighted by the prospect as she was by the fact that he was allowing her to manhandle him. Manhandling that currently had soft paws sending unaccustomed tingles down his spine as they moved further under his jacket, only to pause when they reached the butt of one of his guns. He saw the tense surprise come and go, fading into curious pleasure as she ran her paw over the shape of it, her eyes positively delighted. “You carry a gun? Why haven’t I ever seen you use it?”
“I do,” he replied, aware of how her scent had deepened, spiced by basic lust as she ran her paw over the weapon one last time before it withdrew. He felt his jacket loosen as she popped open the buttons on the front, felt a twinge in his groin. “And because I’ve never needed it before.”
“So self-assured,” she murred throatily, slipping herself into the space of his now open jacket until her chest was pressed against his. He raised his muzzle when she bumped her nose under his, the hat slipping off her head. She didn’t seem to notice as she rooted her nose into his fur. “A shame you’re wearing scent mask. But I can still smell a male under that and bunny. So hard on the surface, but I bet protecting Miss Hopps doesn’t afford you a lot of time to partake in personal pleasures, does it?”
“I’ve been watching her for a little over a week,” he said, his tone unchanged even as her scent knocked hard against the more primal parts of his libido. “I’m sure you’re aware that males are capable of going without sex longer than that.”
“Oh, of course,” was her reply as she seemed intent on taking her fill again as he allowed her to nip at his chin teasingly to try to tempt him into a kiss. “But why, when we don’t have to?”
Perhaps before he would have been able to take her up on the offer, he decided as she pressed herself bodily against him from hip to shoulder, giving him a bit of satisfaction when she bumped herself against the front of his pants. The disappointment that she didn’t find him as hard as she had obviously expected was enjoyable on its own. Perhaps before, but now was not before. And the way her body was pressed into his, he could hear the crinkle of something that wasn’t a part of her dress.
“You are persistent,” he rumbled, allowing a hint of the arousal her scent had driven into his mind to come to the surface. A sharp exhale came when he gripped her wrists, followed by a sharp yelp when he spun her around swiftly and shoved her back against the crimson symbol on the wall as he looked down into her wide golden eyes. “But I am in the habit of taking what I want.”
Submission came easily, her light struggles relaxing as her ears dropped back fully and her muzzle tilted upward to expose more of her slender throat to him. She did this without dropping her eyes, watching everything move he made her as he pressed his body into hers until she was completely pinned against the wall behind them. The appearance of submission was an illusion, he knew, letting her get what she wanted as his paws gripped her hips and lifted her up until her soft legs wrapped around him. Eager little sounds escaping her as he nuzzled her head back further, grazing his teeth through her fur and across her skin as his paws slipped upward along her hips.
“Oh, I should have known you would be the primal type that would just hump me against the wall,” she purred happily as his paws ran sensually over the surface of her dress, striking a little spark of anger in him at the memory it brought to the surface. He pushed the actions of that drunken fool aside as he kept her pinned, her scent thickening with every breath, gnawing at him until…
Until he felt it and heard it at the same time. The crinkle and slight hardness of something that wasn’t meant to be there inside of the dress tucked in just over the soft white of her chest. Desperate to get away from the scent of the vixen’s lust and the memories if brought, he allowed himself no further time to act like he wanted to be where he was. His hands were quick, made easy by her misinterpreting the tug at her dress as an attempt to continue the carnal act. But the moment the receipt was in view, she seemed to catch on to what was happen. Trying to slap him away a second too late, he shoved her away and stepped back with the coveted receipt in paw.
“Bastard,” she growled from the ground where she had fallen, looking a rumpled mess with her skirt halfway up her hips and halfway down her chest. She quickly pulled herself to her feet, as he expected, looking about as angry as a predator who had just had her prey slip away should as she quickly yanked her dress back into place and glowered at him. “All you had to say was that you weren’t interested!”
“Did you come here to take no for an answer?” he asked coldly, panting lightly as he glanced down at the receipt. It was enclosed in a plastic baggy, thankfully, and the date was a match for the one Judy needed, so he tucked it into his jacket’s inner pocket as he returned his gaze to the huffing vixen. “Plus, I was pretty clear in my lack of interest.”
“Maybe not,” she mumbled, smoothing her paws over her rear to wipe away the grime of the alley floor as best she could. After a moment, her eyes returned to him, “but males don’t usually say no.”
“I bet they don’t,” he said under his breath before inhaling deeply and slowly with the distance between them, at least allowing him to take in some air that wasn’t drowning in aroused vixen. “I have what I wanted.”
“Oh no you don’t,” she said sharply, making him paused as he started to turn. “You said I could ask ten questions and I intend to have at least that.”
He could see the anger was quickly fading from her, replaced with a determined sort of cunning as she moved towards him again. This time, her motions were less seductive and reminded him of seeing a reporter move towards a politician with hard questions to ask. There was steel and determination in her eyes, as well, which he expected was her default setting. And she wore it just as well as the guise of the temptress.
“I did say ten questions,” he replied, turning to face her again with his paws tucked in his pockets as he watched her from behind the glasses he still wore. “But you only have six left.”
Seeing her expression drop, then harden, and settle on contemplative made him smirk slightly. The smirk seemed to draw her attention, as the first real expression he had given since she had arrived, and she considered that for a moment, too, before she pointed one finger at him.
“I have seven questions,” she explained, holding up the same paw when he would have spoken. “You never answered me when I asked, ‘But why?’”
“Hm,” he considered, then with a slight shrug of his shoulders he realized that he couldn’t argue with her there. “Fair. Seven questions. But make them quick.”
Even though a moment ago she had looked angry enough to spit nails, the vixen now looked delighted to have won her interview with the Mystery Fox of Zootopia.
“Well, let’s get started then,” she said, standing with her paws resting on her hips and a grin on her muzzle.
All right! As I said in the message I sent out at the time of the Patreon Declined Apocalypse, we will be starting a drop box for things that you would like to see Weaver draw or me write! We will post a new Drop Box post every month where fresh ideas or old favorites can be posted in the comments.
Rules! Do read them, yes.
1) You must be an active, paid Patreon to drop an idea.
2) Zootopia-Centric ideas. Zoosonas allowed but not guaranteed.
3) No non-WildeHopps. Meaning, no Judy/Nick with anyone else, in threesomes, or other such things. Not our thing.
4) If you have a sexy idea, submit the idea in non-graphic language. If that isn't possible, send a message. This is a PG-13 Patreon and we want to keep it that way. Sexy ideas will be posted on DA and Tumblr.
5) The choice of what is picked is up to Weaver and myself. How many are picked is up to us and not every one will be picked. Don't be afraid to drop multiple ideas. Fun/creative ideas are always a plus!
6) When you drop your idea, do not offer it as an art or writing idea. Just an idea. Weaver and I will pick whatever ideas we feel compelled to work on.
7) Not all ideas will be chosen. This is a drop box for us to pick ideas from, not for us to attempt to draw every one. (See Rule #7)
8) Following the above, this isn't a tier based drop box. All Patreons are free to post in comments. Whether the chosen is a sketch, inked, fully colored, written, whatever, it is the ideas we pick.
9) Very important: This WILL NOT distract us from Sunderance or our other projects. This is actually intended to also help keep us motivated, and sometimes it takes a little kick in the ass to get an artist or writer moving on a big project.
This is for our Patreons, to thank everyone who continues to support us. We deeply appreciate it and love you all for sticking around as long as well have and will continue to!
Now enough reading! Give us your ideas! Annnnnnd go!
Weaver drew this after someone commented that his Judy was always serious. I mean, I know of a lot of images where she's smiling and such, but he was driven to prove this person by drawing a super happy and sweet shot. Enjoy!
I know we haven't been as active as we might like, but we are working. The next chapter of Sunderance is underway (art wise) so we can hope to see that soon!
I am currently planning to write another chapter of Wilde Academy and The Savage Dark, hoping to finish them both by the middle of next month.
We want to thank you guys for joining up and sticking with us. We plan to continue bringing you the work until the work is done!
P.S. We also have one of those animated interviews with ZNN in the works. I'll be sure to post it here once it's all done so you can have a look-see. Might be a while, though. It was a long interview.
The music wasn’t as loud as it had been when the door to Wild Times had first opened. It was still loud, but not so loud that it would drown out the normal conversation with someone sitting across the table. That was a relief to her ears, though nothing was a relief to her eyes and sensibilities when she walked onto the main floor of the brothel.
Everywhere around her were males and females paired off, in private booths or tables in various stages of what she supposed would be considered the mating game. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought that it was any other club. There was talking, dancing, and more than a little kissing and nibbling going on for more than two dozen couples around the main bar. On the outside, most of them looked no different from any other couple she had seen in Bunnyburrow spending a night out on the town. It didn’t take much to remind herself that that was just the surface, a surface that made her cringe when she saw one tiger stand and extend his hand towards his tigress escort. She turned her eyes away just as the lovely female reached up to accept his paw with a gracious smile, turning her attention back to her search for the owner of it all.
She saw him standing on the bar, a drink in one hand and his eyes on the room. As much as it would have been easy to say that he looked relaxed, her years of dealing with lawyers and crooks had taught her to look closer for the truth. He was watching every single mammal around him with the keen eye of someone looking out for any sign of trouble, causing her to slow her steps a bit. Something that she regretted, when it seemed to draw the attention of a patron.
“Holy hell,” the throaty voice beside her said, drawing her gaze to the leopard who jumped down from one of the bar stools. He cut a line straight towards her, grinning toothily. His eyes and odd gait warned her that he was heading towards intoxicated as quickly as he was heading towards her. “They actually have bunnies here! And look at those hips!”
She managed to narrow her eyes even as she backpedaled, somewhere between panic and annoyance at the approach of the far larger predator. Then the obviously delighted male was brought to a sudden stop by a sound so sharp and loud that she and everyone in the immediate area jumped. Her ears perked towards Finnick, who held the source of the sound in one diminutive paw: a painted wooden bat, which was now pointed directly at the nervous leopard.
“The bunny is not one of the girls,” he snarled coldly and despite the size difference, it was the larger one that quickly backed down even as Finnick continued, “And what have I told you about letting the girl come to you? If I need to tell you again, I’m banning your tail!”
“Sorry, Fin,” the unnamed leopard said, his tone as submissive as the set of his ears as he turned his eyes to Judy. “Sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to…”
“Yeah, yeah, she gets it,” Finnick interrupted as he walked over the bar towards them, waving the bat towards the door. It was pretty amusing to see the mammals at the bar lift their drinks to let him pass. “Now, get out. No ass for you tonight. Come back tomorrow with a working memory and less alcohol.”
“Aw, come on! I…” the spotted male started to protest, only to cut himself short when the bat waved in front of his muzzle. “Okay, okay. I’ll make an appointment on my way out?”
“Yeah, you do that,” the sandy furred fox said coolly, then his smile turned friendly so suddenly that Judy was pretty sure her head would spin off. “I’m sure Cindy is looking forward to it.”
Judy followed the leopard’s progress as he quickly made his way towards the door. He hesitated for a minute at the door, turning his eyes out over the main floor. His expression could easily have been called longing for a moment before his ears dropped and he slipped past the polar bear that was watching the door. Curious, she followed his gaze until she realized he had been looking at the same door all the females had come from to greet Nick.
“Don’t worry about him,” Finnick’s surprisingly deep voice interrupted her thoughts, drawing her gaze up to the bar. “He’s actually only interested in one of my girls. But a fine-looking bunny like yourself is a curiosity to say the least, considering that most mammals have only seen a naked bunny on the internet.”
“I’m not naked,” she corrected him, then flushed deeply when he ran his eyes up and down her form for a moment with a grin.
“Yeah, the whole ‘undressing her with his eyes’ isn’t just for sappy romance novels and poorly worded pickup lines,” he said, causing her to narrow her eyes before he gestured with the bat as he walked towards his perch on the bar again. “Come up here with me, Law Buns. No one will bother you, and if you’re out here, I’m thinkin’ you have something to say.”
Begrudgingly, she accepted his invitation and made her way towards the end of the bar. Rolling her eyes when he plopped down and patted the spot on the bar beside him, she bent her knees and leap up in one jump, landing neatly beside him. She made a point of staying on her feet and a bit further away than he had indicated, her arms folded over her chest. Keeping her ears upright and her stance hard, she looked down at the grinning fox.
“I have questions about Nick,” she said, getting right to the point. She didn’t really want to be out here any longer than she needed to be.
“Really?” he said, with an expression of such pure delight that she had to restrict the groan to an inner sigh of resignation. “Well, that’s funny because I have questions, too. How about we play a game of fair trade practices: I’ll let you ask one question, and then I get to ask a question. We both have to tell the truth to the best of our ability. If we can’t answer the question, then whoever asked gets to ask another one. Deal?”
“Deal,” she agreed, thinking that was about as fair as she was going to get in this situation. Finnick did hold all the cards, and hopefully at least some of the answers she was looking for. She decided not to wait for a coin flip or whatever would decide who went first. “Who is he?”
“Right to it then,” was his first reply, coming to a pause as he narrowed his gaze at her. “You mean, you don’t know?”
“You can’t answer a question with another question, even if the answer to that question is obvious,” she said simply, her stance unchanged as she watched him closely.
“Fair enough, fair enough,” he said, reaching over to pick up his drink again. Whatever it was, the sweet scent of fruit was almost overpowered by the scent of the liquor inside of it. “You would start with one I can’t actually answer. He’s Nick; he’s been a friend and partner for a long time now and has been a pain in my tail for just as long. Anything beyond that’s his business.”
“That doesn’t answer the question,” she said, doing her best to keep her foot from thumping. When he shrugged and waved his free paw for her to continue, she understood that he accepted that as true. “Why can’t you tell me who he is?”
“Because he will tell you if he wants you to know. And if I tell you before he wants you to know, he’ll be angry.”
“Does that mean he…”
“Ah-ah-ah, Law Buns,” he said, grinning up at her with his huge ears perked and eager. “Now it’s my turn. And the burning question on every mind in here that matters is… How long have you two been banging?”
“I… W-what?” she sputtered, feeling heat slide up her spine and flood her each and cheeks as the audacity of the question. It only lasted for a moment, though, before she ground her teeth together as she regained her composure. “We haven’t ‘banged’ at all.”
She had to give it to him, he was better at this game than she was. She could see from the question burning in his eyes her answer had somehow managed to surprise him, but he didn’t ask as he waved his paw towards her for her to take her turn. Struggling to remember what her previous question had been, she decided instead to ask the next one on her mind.
“You said he’s been a friend of yours for a while. How long have you known him?”
“Hm. That’s a good question,” he admitted before taking another sip of his drink before answering, “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know him, really. Since he was a kit, really, not quite old enough to think about vixens. Or bunnies in his case. And what do you mean you haven’t slept with him?”
“We just haven’t,” she admitted, now taking the questions as smoothly as she might have taken a hard-cross examination in court. “Why do you think we have?”
“Because it radiates off of you both,” the small fox snorted as he met her gaze with dark amber eyes. “If I didn’t know Nick, I might have thought you two were just here to try to rent a room for the night. I’m surprised he didn’t lift you onto this very spot on the bar, bend you over, and…”
“I get your point!” she said, raising a paw to her face to cover her eyes for a moment as she tried to wipe that mental image from her mind. Whatever her next question had been, it was brushed aside by something that was eating away at her just as much. “He seems to know the girls well.”
“That wasn’t a question, Law Buns,” he said, though from the toothy smirk crawling up his muzzle she knew that he could already see the question coming. He just wanted to hear her ask it.
“Does he,” she began, then stopped herself as she reconsidered. She would ask another question, something that actually meant something to the case instead of focusing on Nick. “Does her ever use your services?”
Well, so much for keeping it relevant to the case.
“’Use my services’ she says,” was his first reply, followed by a long burst of laughter that had her frowning at the bar top before she squared her shoulders and waited for his answer. Once he managed to contain his obvious joviality at the phrasing, the still snickering male looked up at her. “Even though it was my turn, I’ll give you a freebie on this one simply because I’m not in the business of screwing up something that so obviously needs to happen. I offer multiple ‘services’ to Nick and the only service he refuses is the one that this establishment specialized in. Meaning, no. He’s never sampled my girls before.”
She mulled over this in silence for a moment, a silence that he did grant her for a good ten seconds before he asked his question.
“You want him, don’t you?”
“Are all of these questions going to revolve around whether or not I’m going have sex with Nick?” she asked tersely, though she feared she already knew the answer.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he said, hide grin only widening as he waved his paw towards the room around them. “For one thing, pretty much every female in here has been dying for a chance to get into that foxes custom tailored pants. If I don’t have some answers, I’m going to get my ears chewed off. And they make up fifty percent of my height as it is. For another, I haven’t seen Nick interested in a female in a very long time and he’s certainly never growled at me over one. And last… That was the second question I answered. So I get to ask another one after you answer the question.”
“Ugh,” she muttered, running her paw over her ears in annoyance at the fact that was right. Nick’s idea that she would verbally dominate him had not taken into account how little she knew about the mysterious fox compared to who seemed to be his best friend. “Yes. I am attracted to him.”
“Attracted,” the sandy colored fox snorted, setting his drink aside. “Every female within half a mile of him is attracted. That doesn’t mean they’re thoughts wander to taking him into a dark room and not coming out until you’re both dehydrated and half dead.”
“Fine! Yes, alright,” she said, her voice raised a little higher than she might have wanted it. “I want him! He’s ridiculously appealing! I’ve already been tempted four times now to strip down to my fur and say, ‘I’m all yours, Nick.’ I walked around in front of him wearing nothing but panties and a too short nightshirt just to see if it got a rise out of him. I almost crawled into his lap once! Next. Question.”
The sound of clapping from behind her had her turning quickly, seeing the lioness standing there with a many-toothed grin on her muzzle. She fought the urge to groan and bury her face in her paws to hide her face, opting instead to release a slow sigh to regain control of herself as the larger female spoke.
“Such passion,” she said, her tone filled with a throaty purr as she slowly climbed up on the bar as she had before. Judy noticed that the eyes of half a dozen males followed her as she did it. This was something that the lioness was undoubtedly aware of given how she swayed her hips and rear before she settled down on her side, reached out with one massive paw, and dragged Finnick into the curve of her body. She continued as he leaned back into her belly without missing a beat, “Can I ask your next question, Trunk?”
“Feel free.”
“Hm,” she purred gratefully as her tawny eyes turned to Judy. “Have you two – How should I put this – ever talked about your mutual case of hot-pants for each other?”
“Yes,” she said in a low voice, then drew a breath and spoke more clearly. “We had dinner. We discussed it then. I don’t think I ever knew the name of the restaurant. There was no sign.”
She hadn’t expected the surprised reaction that she received, particularly from Finnick who had been mid-drink and nearly choked on it before his eyes narrowed on her.
“He took you to Lochlann’s place?”
“Yeah,” she said, drawing out the word as she narrowed her eyes at him in turn. “That was the otter’s name. Is that important?”
The fox and lioness exchanged surprised glances, Zira’s ears pinning back for a moment before both pairs of eyes focused on her again.
“That falls under the category of ‘things Nick never does’ Law Buns,” Finnick said, setting his drink aside as he eyed her with a much deeper sort of interest than before. “And answers a lot of questions I was gonna ask. So, as unfair as the tilt is right now, I’ll answer yours for now. Ask away.”
Feeling that it was something of a dodge, she knew he was trying to change the subject by giving her what she wanted without any further questions about her sex life. As tempting as it was to question him on why being taken to that specific restaurant was so important, she couldn’t pass up the chance to ask the questions she felt she really needed to know the answers to.
“All right,” she murmured, deciding to slide in easily, “Has he ever done bodyguard work before?”
“Not that I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh,” she mumbled, considering the answer in silence for a moment. He seemed so fully competent in protecting her, that the answer was not the one she had expected. In more ways than one. “Is he wealthy?”
“That would fall under the ‘who is he’ category of questions,” was the snorted reply, causing her no end of frustration.
She would have to dance around a little, then.
“You said you provide other services for him,” she said, folding her arms over her chest again as she looked down at the smaller male. “Are you the one who acquired the suits that cost him one-hundred and fifty-thousand Bucks?”
“How did you..?” he began, then frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest to mirror her defensive stance. “He didn’t tell you about that, did he?”
“I’ve seen the receipt,” she supplied, causing the fox to roll his eyes slightly.
“Fine then,” he said, his tone only mildly annoyed as he turned his eyes out over the main floor again. She felt compelled to follow his gaze, seeing that at least half of the mammals that had been their before had vanished. It wasn’t hard to figure out where, where she saw a she-wolf leading a male wolf through a doorway. She diverted her attention back to Finnick, trying to keep her mind off what was going on around her. “Yes, I supplied the suits.”
“Did he tell you how he plans to pay for them?”
“He paid up front,” was the hesitant answer, followed by a slight tilt of his head towards her. “Why don’t you ask what’s really on your mind there, Law Buns?”
“I’m not sure,” she murmured, frowning slightly at the doubt that was inching into every question that she wanted to ask. But there was one that she needed the answer to, regardless of those doubts. “Is he capable of murder?”
“Murder, huh?” the smaller mammal grunted, tilting his head back as Zira started to scratch the top of his head between the ears. “That’s a subject jump.”
“It’s the last question,” she admitted, having to force herself not to shuffle her feet over the bar as she held his gaze.
“Depends on what you mean by ‘murder’,” was his reply, followed by a shrug as he drew himself to his feet with his now empty glass in paw. “Would he kill for you? The whole city knows the answer to that question. It seems to me, though, that most of these questions were meant for him anyway.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“You want to know him? Stop dancing around the subject,” he said, shrugging as he held the glass out until the robotic ‘Bartender’s Helper’ arm took it and dropped it into soapy water. “Ask him. If he doesn’t want to answer, you make him answer.”
“It’s not that simple,” she murmured, though in a way she shared the frustration that was obvious in his expression.
“Yeah, yeah. He’s a badass and you have a case to win. You can’t get tangled up.” He snorted, this time jumping up to sit on Zira’s hip. She didn’t seem to mind, even when he patted her rump for good measure. “I’ve only known you for a few hours and I can tell that you both have problems with getting your tails in gear. And I’m not just talking about this ‘getting to know you’ shit. You have guts, obviously, except when it comes to him. If you did, you would’ve dropped your pants those four times you were tempted. And if he had half a brain in his head, he would have taken you up on those offers.”
“But I don’t really know him,” she shot back, frowning at being lectured by a pimp of all mammals.
“And that’s your fault. And his,” he returned, shaking his head before leaning back to lie against the paw Zira placed behind him. “Talk it out, Law Buns. You obviously want to know him, in both the literal and biblical sense. And chances are, you’re not going to get either until you face up to how much you want both.”
It was only by grace of the arrival of customers that Judy was able to escape the clutches of the tiny, perverted fox. She had known who Finnick was from the moment she had compiled her list of possible means of protection and, because of his business, she had left him as the absolute last on her list of mammals to call. Paying for protection with sexual favors had not been a price she was willing to pay, as she had discussed with Nick, and given his business, it seemed likely to her that it might have been a part of whatever price the last pimp in Zootopia would want. And given his behavior so far, her thoughts seemed justified.
She sat in front of the computer in the sound-proof side office that he had ‘graciously’ provided her when it came time for customers to start arriving, but only after reminding her that there would be questions as soon as everything on the floor had settled down enough. It was obvious that he thought she wouldn’t be able to handle what went on in a brothel of this size, and for once she was grateful for his attitude. Or maybe he was heeding Nick’s warning about keeping the males away from her? Either way, it had worked to her benefit as she flipped through the various files Flash had sent to her again.
With the various text documents and legal files bringing nothing new to light, she turned her attention to the many images. While she and Nick had looked through them the first time, many of them had seemed pointless and many more had gone unseen after the discovery of receipt lead. Now she took her time, examining each image with equal intensity to see if there was anything any of them could do to support her case. She created a few secondary folders within the main, allowing her to sort images by possible leads, most likely junk, and obviously important. The number of items that were going into the most likely junk folder was not surprising, though after the first few minutes it did become disheartening.
In the end, of the hundreds of images, only twenty of them were possible leads and five were obviously important. No new information in any of them but they could still be used to help build her case, though she wouldn’t be able to show them in court. That meant she would need to go over the legal case files again to see how much of it could be verified with forensic photos.
Not knowing how much time she had, she turned her attention to the videos that remained un-played. The dim lighting in the room and the utter silence provided by the soundproof walls that kept her separate from the music worked along with the dull and generally unimportant videos to cause her attention and mind to wander. Leaving the player on autoplay she watched one after the other for fifteen minutes, most of them short news clips already available online. It became so monotonous that she had to force herself to focus, blinking rapidly to keep her eyes from getting heavy.
Then the fifteenth video clip started, the pitch-black image and noise of the shot drew her full attention again. Ears perked forward as she realized that she heard voices, though at first they were indistinct and impossible to understand. The stern tone of one voice and the passive one that replied had her raising her ears and straining to understand. Just as she started to get frustrated, the stern tone went silent and all that was left was the sound of a door sliding closed and shuffling for a moment before whatever had been covering the camera was removed.
The scene she was greeted with made a wince curl her muzzle.
The room was brightly lit, though there was a feeling of stillness within. It was an expansive office with a very Spartan, almost military feel to it. It only took her a moment to understand why when the camera panned around until she was given a view of a large desk, and the old blood that ran down and pooled at the foot of it. She knew then that she was looking at the crime scene where General Valter had been murdered, something that had never reached the media because of the top-secret nature of Maleperduis.
“Are you out of your mind?” a voice hissed, causing whoever was holding the camera to turn it to face the speaker. The jerky motion, lack of quality, and the odd point of view had her quickly understanding that it wasn’t being held: it was on his shoulder or chest, which explained how he had managed to get it into the military base. Something that the male kudu seemed aware was a bad idea if his expression, halfway between frightened and annoyed, was any indication.
“We’re here to do a job, so keep it down,” the cameramammal said, keeping his voice low enough so that she had to turn the volume up to hear it, the camera jerking when he shrugged before he turned his attention to the desk again. “Think this is what he’s after?”
“How should I know?” came the terse reply as the camera moved closer to the desk. “We’re just here to clean up, remember.”
“Shut up,” came the quick, angry reply, “I know that!”
“No, you shut up!”
“No, you shut up!”
She rolled her eyes at the sudden argument and tuned them out as they went back and forth until the deep growl of a voice from outside told them both to shut up. Instead, her frown deepened slightly at the blood stains on the surface of the desk. One was clearly just a puddle of old, brownish red blood. It was the other that had her attention, and clearly the attention of the ‘cleaning crew’ as the camera zoomed in for a closer look.
“What do you think it means, Pronk?”
“Not sure,” was the reply, this time in a lower, even-tempered tone that was obviously just a result of the warning just received, “but we’re not here to understand it.”
The camera circled the desk for a full 360-degree view of the pattern. At first, she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. It was smeared and unclear, the drying of the blood making the pattern less obvious that it might have been in the mind of the male who had written it. It wasn’t until the angle had the gruesome drawing upside down that it dawned on her. It was like an indistinct face with two eyes staring, surrounded on three sides by nine markings. How Valter had managed to include such detail while bleeding to death was beyond her. But it was clear that she had seen this symbol before.
It was the same as the one engraved on Nick’s baton.
The bubble of indignant fury that rose towards the small fox came on very quickly, as much for the fact that he looked at her in such a way openly as for the suggestion that she was being delivered. About to step around Nick to give them both a piece of her mind, seasoned with cutting words about where they could stick this idea of her staying here of all places, she stopped when she felt as much as heard a low-toned rumble in the air. Lavender eyes darted up to Nick as the source, which he very clearly was, as the low and almost soundless growl rolled through him. It didn’t grow louder or more aggressive, nor did his stance change to a threatening one so much as he simply stood there, a cold chill nearly radiating from him as he stared at the smaller fox from behind his sunglasses.
She stared up at him with her nose twitching, her mouth had suddenly gone dry, as her heartbeat quickened to patter against her chest. Even when they had been in mortal danger, Nick had always remained so cool and controlled in his actions. It was so damned fascinating to see any real signs of aggression from him, to feel it in the air so tensely for a few seconds that she had to remind herself to breathe. There was no illusion in her mind that her reaction was fear. The rational part of her mind told her that she should have been frightened by a display of outright aggression, but she wasn’t. She remembered the interview with Weaselton in the ZPD, how she had felt a flash of heat when he had warned the weasel not to speak to her the way he had. It was almost like that, but more intense; more intimate. The understanding of that had her turning her eyes away from him as she swallowed audibly, a little shiver rolling through her as she forced her gaze to the smaller fox.
Who was grinning up at the larger predator, and then at her as he flipped the sunglasses off entirely and hung them from the front of his shirt.
“So that’s how it is,” he said, his throaty voice low as he glanced between the two of them for a long moment when the growling died down. If she hadn’t known better, she would have said that the expression on his face was positively delighted, which seemed to be confirmed by the shine in his eyes when he focused his gaze on her. “Don’t worry, Law Buns. I know who you are. Even if bunnies weren’t illegal in Zootopia, wouldn’t want Lover-Todd there to burn down my business for even looking at you. Damn shame, though.”
Not even sure if that had been a compliment on her attractiveness or an insult that she might make a good prostitute - if there was even a difference between the two in his mind – she found herself unable to reach that mad again. Her nose still twitching slightly, her heart still beating a little too fast, she cast a glance to the fox beside her. When he nodded and placed one paw between her shoulders to lead her forward, an unexpected tremble quaked through her entire body so quickly and intensely that it caused her ears to drop and the fur on the back of her neck to stand on end. This, too, she recognized as anything but a fearful reaction to the touch of the male beside her. Forced to keep her mind focused on where they were, and what they were walking into, she could only hope desperately that Nick was too focused on being…
Lover-fox.
… protective to notice exactly how crazily attractive she found the sudden and territorial reaction towards the other male.
She turned, forced, her attention from those thoughts to their surroundings as they walked into the only legal brothel still in Zootopia. For the large part, the interior was dimly lit except for the shafts of light that played along the walls and over the floors in a pattern that seemed to match the beat of the music. The place was built to cater to all sizes, obviously. At a glance, she could see that the tables surrounding the bar were divided into sections in a ring pattern around the main bar. The larger tables, obviously intended for huge animals, were on an upper level that circled the wide-open interior, making them the furthest out. On the main level, these tables decreased in size the closer they came to the bar. She realized that each table seemed to be its own self-contained entities; each had chairs, a love seat, a television on a paneled wall facing the love seat, and what she was pretty sure was a stripper pole on top of every table. Even as she felt some indignation return, she became aware that everything looked to be made of light, velvet, silk, and reflective surfaces. If she hadn’t known where she was and what was done here, she might have found the entire setup impressive and beautiful. Almost classy, even.
Her gaze returned to the fox in front of them as he pulled a small remote out of his jacket pocket and pressed a button. The heavy music and the lights that danced to it were both gone in an instant, leaving her feeling a little deaf as her body still seemed to hum with the bass.
“Yo, girls!” the fox boomed, his voice easily carrying through the expanse of the now silent building, “We have guests!”
“We’re still grooming,” came a deeply feminine voice from an open door on the far side of the establishment, causing Judy to crane her neck to see if she could catch an idea of the voice as her ears quivered curiously. “Tell them that they’re early!”
“Did I say customers, ya hussy?” he demanded, causing Judy to frown as she turned a cool glare towards the small fox. “Now get your fine asses out here and say hello to the city’s newest darlings!”
“Oh, so we’re hussies now?” came the voice again, though this time it was closer. Judy could have sworn there was humor rather than anger or insult in the tone. A second later, a large, slender and beautiful lioness stepped out of the room, causing Judy’s jaw to unhinge slightly at the sight of the dark golden fur clothed in a long crimson robe that had the shine of silk. “Or were you talking directly to… Nick!”
The sudden burst of feminine chatter and squeals of excitement from the other side of the door was soon followed by a flood of the females they belonged too. Judy was taken aback, watching with a twitching nose as the stampede of females of various species – most of them half naked, wearing only lingerie and undergarments – rushed across the room in seeming excitement to see Nick. From a small and slender weasel, to a flame-furred vixen wearing a pure white teddy over a pleasantly narrow body, to a tigress who seemed just as excited as the rest to see the much smaller male, and a sheep who had wool as fluffy and white as she had ever seen around her neck and a fantastic, sheered body below it in a bra and panties that left very little to the imagination.
There were more, many more, but she lost track when they started to crowd around them in a wave of perfume and more than a few feminine voices. It was so completely out of her element. All of it was making her head spin slightly, a mixture of confusion and fear, which had her drawing closer to Nick as the group of females murmured about them.
“Nick, where have you been?”
“We’ve missed you, you handsome devil fox.”
“We saw you on the news! Is this your client?”
“I didn’t realize she was so cute!”
“Are you going to stay tonight? I can clear my schedule!”
“Me, too!”
“Quiet! I asked first.”
“Maybe he can handle you both.”
“He could handle all of us, I bet.”
The confusion was quick to burn away as anger rose as quickly as the heated blush inside of her ears. Lavender eyes narrowed as she turned her gaze to the first of the females who had offered to spend the night with him, feeling her stomach tighten when she faced the beautiful - if overly perfumed – vixen. All uneasiness at the sudden arrival of the attractive females was gone as her gaze turned into a glare as she pressed into Nick’s side. As she had hoped, he took this as a need for comfort. At least, she thought he did when his paw returned to her back and drew her closer to his side. The sudden and intense silence that followed was as deafening as it had been when the music had been turned off as the females looked at the two of them with open curiosity, surprise, and even a hint of annoyance from the vixen.
Satisfaction was followed by a jolt when she felt something brush her butt. Thinking one of the females might have gotten bold, she turned quickly only to see that Nick had wrapped his tail around her as casually as he had his arm. Her blush deepened as a surprised thrill raced through her, interrupted by Finnick’s voice from the bar.
“Cute, right?” he said, sitting with the only female who hadn’t rushed over to investigate the pair. Sitting with wasn’t exactly right. The sharp-featured lioness was stretched out on her side on top of the bar, curled up and looking every bit as regal as her appearance seemed to suggest she should. Sitting in front of her and leaning back against the curve of her belly, was the tiny fox who looked very much like the king of the world surrounded in the crimson and gold of the female as she stroked his large ears. “They’re twitterpated.”
“I’m not so sure. This is Nick we’re talking about,” the mature lioness said in a silk-wrapped gravel tone, almost looking bored as her tail twitched over the bar. She then slapped her paw onto the bar-top twice loudly. “All right, enough gawking. Give them room and go get yourselves ready! You all have clients to tend to later tonight.”
Judy watched in silence as the group of females collectively gave little sounds of disappointment as they rose from their tight ring around Nick and started back towards the back room again. She found that very little of this was exactly what she had expected. The building was exceptionally clean and well designed; not one of the females looked downtrodden or unkempt; the theme wasn’t overly gaudy or deeply focused on sex. When Finnick had shown up on her list of contacts for possible protection, she had envisioned a grimy pit, mostly shadowed and filled with females that were only looking for a way out. The various females didn’t look or sound like anything less than a group of does gossiping about bucks back in Bunnyburrow as they crossed the room, some pausing to give a last glance or a wave to Nick before vanishing through the door.
The constant feeling of perplexity and disquiet was starting to annoy her, however, so she shoved them aside and straightened herself as she tugged out of Nick’s reach reluctantly. Clearing her throat, she glanced at Finnick before she grabbed Nick’s arm to draw him down to her level.
“You’re seriously leaving me here,” she whispered, as she reached up and yanked the sunglasses from his muzzle so she could look into his eyes. The tough fox routine was just adding to her annoyance, even if it was the truth of him in pretty much every way. “Is this place even legal?”
“Perfectly legal,” Finnick said, causing her to jump slightly as she turned to face him. “And these ears aren’t just to make me look good, Law Buns, any more than those buns are just to make you look hot in that suit.”
“Then stop focusing on them,” she snapped, frowning as she crossed her arms over her chest facing him and the lioness who had remained behind only to serve as his chair. At least, that was how it looked to Judy. “And my name is Judith Hopps. You can call me Miss Hopps.”
“She does have a spine,” the lioness said in a near purr, an approving smirk showing twin rows of sharp, predatory teeth. “And a nice butt.”
“Can everyone stop looking at my ass for one minute?” she demanded, turning to glare at Nick for putting her in this position. And in a place where the females seemed to absolutely adore him, which was enough to make her temper start to rise again. “This is the only safe place you know?”
“He is the only one I would trust to leave you with,” he confirmed, causing her to wonder what kind of male could gain the trust of a fox whom no one in the entire city seemed to know, “And this is one of the last places anyone in the city would think you might end up.”
“How long will this take?”
“I don’t know,” he replied simply, placing one paw on her shoulder when she turned to face him. He had remained on her level and held her eyes now as he continued, “But you know I’m not going to take any longer than is needed. I will be back as soon as I have what you need.”
“I’ll bet you already have what she needs,” Finnick snorted lightly, causing her ears to burn as Nick cast him an annoyed glance.
Too embarrassed by the statement to be angry, she released a slow sigh as she testily brushed his paw from her shoulder. “Then go get it. And… Be careful.”
“I’m always careful,” he replied, giving her a small grin before drawing himself to his feet facing the bar. “I expect this place to be in flames and filled with blood and bodies before you let anything happen to her.”
“Oh, I already got that part of it,” the smaller male replied with his first truly serious expression, toying with the chain around his neck idly as he watched the other Todd. “But I want an explanation when you get back. Or should I just grill the bunny?”
“Her name is Judy,” Nick said shortly, reaching up to adjust his tie and straighten his jacket. It was a habit, she realized; something he did when he was preparing himself or trying to calm down. While it came off as smooth because of the ease of the motion, it was as much a nervous tick as her foot thumping had been before she broke that habit. “And you can grill her all you want. Just expect to be grilled in return and verbally dominated if you try.”
“Oh, I would love to see that,” the lioness crooned in ample delight at the idea, causing the smaller male to roll his eyes up at her as she gently scratched between his ears.
“Yeah, I just bet you would,” she heard him say, though she didn’t take her eyes off Nick as he turned to head for the door. Her unease grew the further away he got from her, until she forced herself to calm down. She was perfectly capable of existing without him, even if this was one of the last places on earth she would want to exist at all. When he reached the door, she saw him pause for a moment before he called over his shoulder.
“And keep the males away from her, Fin,” he said, his voice cool and easy. Calm as it might have been, even she could see the spark in his eye when he finished, “or I’ll be the one filling this place with blood and bodies.”
With that, he turned and left, though his parting words did make her feel better in a strange, simply visceral way. That faded when she turned and found that the fennec fox didn’t look at all intimidated. In fact, he and the lioness were both grinning at her widely.
“Oh, sweet Law Buns,” he said, rubbing his paws together like an evil genius about to take over the world, “do I have questions for you.”
She had seen this sort of thing happen in the movies but had never expected to be doing it herself. They returned to the office to give her a chance to collect anything she might have needed to continue investigating on her own while he was gone, a time during which he had made a phone call that even her sensitive ears picked up as light muttering. After announcing that she had everything she needed and following him outside again, she had been surprised to find that the car waiting outside wasn’t the same one they had been driving around in for the past week. Instead, it was a car designed for a mammal larger than Nick - maybe a lion or some other big cat – painted cherry red and modified with a seat lift and extended pedals to allow him to drive it with relative ease.
Three blocks later, in the shadow of an alley between a bakery and a bamboo-noodle restaurant, she learned that the car was designed for polar bears. She learned this because of the polar bear in a sharply tailored black suit waiting for them with another car, black this time. Before she could question, she was escorted out as the exchange took place without a word. The white bear climbed into the red car without a word and Nick ushered her into the new car, which was more bunny sized than fox-sized. With the seat pushed back all the way, and the steering wheel raised as much as possible, it was drivable though not at all comfortable for the slumped fox. But like the first one, they didn’t stay in it for long. This time they pulled into a public three-story garage where, on the second floor, a skunk waited patiently next to an aged white family sedan that was certainly more fox friendly. After the swap was again made wordlessly, Nick waited for the striped mammal to drive out and followed two minutes later.
There was another ‘exchange’ that took place when he pulled into another alley, though the bit of trickery that took place there almost had her wondering which car they were supposed to be in. Using a dumpster to block visual on the driver’s side door on the newer, sportier looking car, they exited the sedan like normal. Only when they reached the new car and were hidden from the road by said dumpster, the badger driver simply gave them a nod before driving off. She resisted the urge to peak around the green metal box, which smelled about as friendly as the badger had looked, as she looked up at the handsome red fox with a combination of nervousness and curious energy. After they waited a full five minutes, he quickly led her back to the car and they were off again.
Judy was loaded with questions, each one almost leaving her muzzle more than once, but it seemed foolish to ask the obvious. They were trying to lose anyone who might be trailing them and, with a single phone call, he had set up at least three throw away cars and mammals who would drive them. Her need to know who he was grew more intense, but she couldn’t risk asking them now. The receipt was important, too important, to let her curiosity about the male beside her delay that or have him change his mind entirely. As much as he seemed to agree with the idea that he worked for her, she wasn’t going to test it in the middle of a cloak and dagger operation that made the ones she had seen in the movies look easy to follow. So, she watched where they were going in silence, aware that they were taking no backroads or pointlessly evasive turns now to get where they were going. Not that she knew where they were going, a fact that irritated her almost as much as her own decision not to question him until she had the receipt in her paws.
It wasn’t until they reached the markets of Haytown, with the large arches of the bridge growing larger, that she started to understand where they were going. The Witty Arson Bridge crossed into the Nocturnal Ranges, a place that a nocturnal mammal like a fox was sure to have plenty of friends. This almost had her speaking, before he pulled off the main road that would lead to the bridge exit, dashing her idea and making her scowl inwardly as she stared out the window at the passing buildings. A while back, what had been the obvious clutter and larger structures of downtown had become the flash and touristy glamour of Savanna Square and the surrounding buildings. That had faded as they drove until the larger buildings gave way to a more suburban feel. Smaller apartment buildings, townhouses, shopping plazas, one-level office buildings, and eventually warehouses as they drew closer to the waterline.
Even those buildings came to a rather abrupt end, which surprised her. The undeveloped section of the city looked perfect for further development, with open spaces connected to the road they still followed. Yet she saw no ‘For Sale’ signs, no construction; not even agriculture. It didn’t take long, with the setting sun blocked by the ever-growing bridge to form an early artificial twilight in the area, for her to see the only structure that the road seemed to lead to.
In a city of massive buildings, it wasn’t the size of the building that was impressive: it was the flare of it all. The glow that seemed to surround it even when there were no lights turned on. It had been a warehouse at one point, of that she was sure. The arching, almost shell-like design of the roof, the square glass windows that were still visible on the front, the large front doors that had been designed to accept shipments from mammals of all sizes, the low and easily accessible location from the road. She was sure that it had been a warehouse.
It wasn’t a warehouse anymore. The roof had been divided into long downward facing segments of colorful pink, outlined with lights on either side that would bring out the pink in a nice, non-offensive way once lit. The front panels on either side of the door had been replaced with square segments that almost looked like add-on rooms. In fact, they were likely an extension. Before she decided on that, her attention turned to the fact that the building was on a dock over the water, across a short walkway bridge lined with lights, giving the whole thing a high-class appearance that she wasn't exactly sure it should have. In the end, her eyes were drawn to the sign that dominated the front of the building.
Wild Times.
It wasn’t some massive neon sign that could be seen for miles around. It was a massive wooden sign made up of individual letters painted yellow with red borders. Even when the lights that outlined every letter were turned off, you could easily read it once close enough. But more than that, they also seemed to fit the exterior of the building more than neon would have. It gave the entire building a classic, welcoming feeling without being too obvious about itself. And at the same time, it was made to be noticed by those who were looking for it. The huge star that dotted the ‘i’ in Wild made that clear enough.
Of course, she knew exactly what this place was.
“You’re kidding me, right?” she asked in the most cliché way she could as he pulled up to the curb in front of the main entrance. But it was simply too crazy to imagine that he would be bringing her to this… this… “This brothel is the ‘safe place’ you’re going to leave me?”
“You need the receipt,” he said calmly, showing no outward sign behind his sunglasses that her outrage had any effect on him at all. “You ordered me to take you somewhere safe. This is the only place I think you will be.”
Without another word, he popped open his door and stepped out without bothering to turn off the car. Flabbergasted, she scrambled to do the same, hopping down as he rounded the car, fuming and fully prepared to give him the verbal lashing of his life when the front door swung open. The throb of heavy base, background noise until that moment, vibrated through her long ears as the flicker of lights from within the building outlined and left the figure that stepped out mostly hidden in shadow for a moment.
“Well, well,” came the deep, unamused, masculine voice over the music. A voice that in no way seemed to suit the fox that spoke with it. “After a full week of seeing him on TV confusing the hell out of an entire city, he finally shows up at my door with all the trouble that’s following him.”
The massive front door did nothing to prepare her for the fox that stepped into the fading light until she could see him clearly. He was, at best, tiny. She was almost certain that he was half her height if the ears were excluded from the equation. The dark sports jacket he wore was open in the front, revealing a white t-shirt over a slim torso and what she could have sworn was a golden, gem-encrusted pacifier hanging from a length of chain around his neck. This didn’t seem to change the fact that somehow this tiny mammal, whose ears were as large as his entire body, came across as intimidating while his shaded gaze lingered on Nick for a long moment. Then that gaze shifted towards her, as he reached up with one paw to lift the sunglasses from amber eyes, sweeping his gaze over her until a small smile played over his narrow muzzle.
“And would you look,” he said, in a tone that caused her to shift closer to Nick even as he moved closer to the door and the fox that was eyeing her like a piece of meat. “He brought me a bunny.”
A completely gratuitous mashup to Warhammer 40,000.
“We are the Gods of the New World Order, We are the Soldiers, the Legion of Light,We are the Center, the Depth of the Sun,Fire and Flame, We Are One.”
“It is folly to stay,” the fox said, faintly glowing green eyes staring out over the remains of what had once been a mighty fortress standing before the great city of Zootopia. Around him stood the last remaining defenders of the Golden City, none of whom looked at all pleased with his presence or his words. “What you call a bastion is hardly a mound of dirt topped with fodder for the Savages.”
“What your cowardly kind considers folly, the brave consider an honor, Eldar,” the heavily armored buffalo rumbled, his voice somehow tight with anticipation of the coming battle and dismissively bored. Then the same voice rose when he turned it to the Marines around him and the fox. “What the faithless consider pointless, we consider an honor! Our purpose, our salvation, comes from knowing without question that we are righteous in our cause and divine in our strength. For three months, this Company of one-hundred has held this ground against relentless onslaught from those who wish to taint this great city. We have suffered loss and our numbers have dwindled until you, my faithful Zoo Marines, are all that remains of our once mighty Chapter.
“But we have shown these savages the cost of those losses in the countless bodies of our foes that blanket the field of battle from the Burrows to the Meadowlands. For every one of us that has fallen, we have taken one thousand! Because though we are told that there is no greater honor than death in service, in truth it is to know that you have taken more than your share of the enemy with you in service of your Chapter, in service to Mammalkind, and in service to Zootopia!”
“That was a fine, if typical speech from one of the Faithful,” the fox murmured, folding his arms across his own lightly armored chest as the eyes of the many mammals around him glared at him. It was no secret to him that none among them trusted him. The animosity between the Eldar and the Imperium had long been… Strained. Their disquiet around him was obvious and the resentment in their eyes was to be expected. All except the eyes of one. The deep lavender eyes of the smallest Zoo Marine ever to engage in battle, a bunny far too adorable to be as battle-hardened as she was, watching him with that odd sort of affection that they shared. “But that doesn’t change the fact that our chances are slim, Captain.”
“Then why do you remain?” the bulky, hard-faced tigress beside Bogo asked with a contemptuous snort. “What have you to gain, fox?”
“If we survive,” he began, grinning at the wide eyes of the bunny who seemed to know exactly what he was going to say, “I intend to express my appreciation for that survival by seeing what our dear Inquisitor looks like out of her cloak.”
There were murmurs of disgust and even threatening growls from those around him, ever as the bunny they all knew he spoke of managed to blush. Funny. He had been sure that Inquisitors had all lost the ability to experience anything more than bloodlust and zealotry until he’d met this one. All sound died with Bogo raised one armored hoof, his eyes never leaving the fox.
“Were one so holy as she even willing to do such a thing with the likes of you,” he began, his eyes narrowed even as they all felt the ground start to rumble. The enemy would soon be upon them. “I would demand a sacrifice. Proof that you’re more than what I see now. One-thousand dead Savages, by the time the noon-time sun shines above our heads.”
“One-thousand?” the fox said, tilting his head silently as he looked down at the bunny. As much as the blush was adorable, the rumble of the ground and the distant sounds of war drums had her preparing herself like the others. Her autobolter in paw, an expression on her face that was something between serious concentration and righteous anticipation of the coming battle. It only caused him to grin as he drew his sword, allowed to join their ranks on what would either be the final stand of this Chapter or the salvation of their Golden City.
“I’ll give you two-thousand.”
—————————————–
“To be a mammal in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of savage gods.” Unknown
Showcasing the new designs for Nick and Judy in our Z2 fan comic. Fans have the bad habit to imagine that their characters will always remain faithful to their original incarnations, this is understandable, but as we've seen time and time again, major productions of sequels always make sure to alter these designs (and this is a good thing). So here is an interesting depiction of what we could see for Nick and Judy in the future.
"Stories" takes place in a world of anthropomorphic animal characters in a steampunk-themed world on islands floating in air.
The protagonist is Nick Wilde, a fox corsair who reluctantly had retired from his adventures because of his mother's dying wish. One day his hometown is attacked by evil musclebound ravens sent by the Empire led by Isengrim III, once a humble and shy toad and a scholar but now has started a vicious campaign to find ancient artifacts and forgotten magic to gain access to the banished "elder gods" who once nearly destroyed the world.
“Pardon me, Administrator,” came a deeply masculine voice, drawing her sparkling gaze to the large white-tailed stag who sat regally above the foxes nearest to him. He met her gaze and tilted his antlered head in a slight bow when she nodded for him to continue. “While I think most of us agree that the lawyer is of interest to the Council, shouldn’t we begin with the topic of our fallen member? There have been no leads, no claims of responsibility, and no seeming reason for the sudden move against the Council.”
The vixen gave him a warm smile that she reserved for those who she enjoyed having seated at what was her table. That he had spoken first was not unexpected. A natural leader, Frederick was, and one who saw a need for balance in all things. She was sure that was why he also called Hopps ‘the lawyer’ rather than ‘the bunny’ as she had and was sure most of the Council would. They would do so either because they saw themselves as better or because she had started by calling her that.
“The two seem to be directly connected, wouldn’t you think, Bardsley?” she said, her voice easily reaching the ears of all in the room even though she didn’t raise it. That was mostly because there was no sound aside from her voice when she spoke. “I don’t think it can be called a coincidence that Nathaniel was so suddenly cut down so shortly after the bunny arrived in this city. And it certainly isn’t a coincidence that the tiger our entire city saw trying to murder Miss Hopps was, at one time, under the command of the departed general. That was before he was a Councilor of course, but the tie still remains.”
“You think Valter sent an assassin after the bunny?” said the smallish fox with sandy fur, one paw pressed to the table as he leaned forward. She read his expression as confused and doubtful, with just enough sarcasm in his tone to make the fur on the back of her neck itch slightly.
“I have sent you all the information on the matter, McArthur,” she said easily, sweeping one paw, pads facing up, towards them. “Feel free to browse the information after the meetings and send me your thoughts.”
“Well, so what if he did?” he pressed, causing her amiable expression to harden slightly as she returned her gaze to him. He was not oblivious to this fact and quickly eased the tone of his words when he continued. “If he did send the assassin after the bunny, then I think we have a suspect in his own assassination: whoever this mystery fox is.”
“Is that right?” she said, her voice bland as she lowered her gaze to her paw for a moment to examine one perfectly manicured claw. Imagining her lack of interest was causing the insides of his ears to burn right about now, she raised her eyes to meet the disconcerted gaze of the male again after a moment. She flicked her claw, as one might flick away an annoying flea before she placed the paws on the podium and leaned towards the Council as a whole. “Have any of you seen the morning news?”
“Yes, Administrator,” McArthur grunted, leaning back in his seat as the rest gave their own nods and murmurs of acknowledgment.
“Then you know the reputation this mysterious fox has made for himself,” she said, raising her voice half an octave as she looked from one to the other. “A hero in our midst. Savior of the city’s only rabbit visitor. No one knows who he is or where he came from, save for the fact that he has attached himself to Hopps, openly protected her, and made himself as close to a folk hero as you can get in this modern era.”
“That does not directly absolve him of possible guilt,” Diana said, the tone speculative as the lioness watched her closely. A fact which made her smile as she straightened herself from the podium and gave a slow shrug.
“Of course. The fact remains, the ban on bunnies in Zootopia has never been the most popular act of the government,” she continued as she stepped away from the podium and started to slowly walk around the table. They all followed her with their eyes, even those who were forced to turn in their seats uncomfortably to do so. “While we can all agree it was necessary at the time, many call it a stain on the government. A stain that some mammals are still looking to us to correct. Just like many see the conviction of Otterton to be a stain on our justice system.”
“Is that why you invited the lawyer into the city?” Bardsley asked, his posture still regal as he was one of the few on the Council large enough to make no effort more than following her with his eyes.
“I saw too many stains. You could call the bunny an olive branch to those who still don’t agree with the ban on bunnies. Along with that, I invited her into the city to possibly correct what far too many see a miscarriage of justice, which adds leaves to that branch. And yet, the moment she entered the city someone tried to have her killed. Someone almost managed to add another stain.”
She paused her steps at the far end of the chamber, the forest before her shimmering and changing until she was looking out a wide window to a view of the city below. The fact that the image itself was a holographic projection of what was outside of the tower didn’t matter; it represented what was on her mind. The glory of the rising towers, shining in the early morning sun as the mammals of the city started to move about their lives. The beauty of Tundra town, frozen and white, turning into the smoldering sandbox of Sahara Square. The two districts were about the balance between the two. The massive refrigeration units draining the heat from one side of the wall and releasing that heat through coils and vents to keep the air on the other side dry and hot. She had to ensure that the balance within the Council chamber remained so perfectly synced.
“You were elected because I wanted you on the Council: each and every one of you. You all have qualities that make you ideal for your positions because I don’t tolerate incompetence,” she said, her voice taking on an edge of ice as she turned to face them with the balance of the city behind her. “My own Councilors will not be allowed to act against the betterment of this city because they think it will benefit them to do so. You would all do well to remember that.”
The silence that followed was a heavy one, one she showed them did not affect her in the slightest as she started the walk back towards her podium. As she watched the uncomfortable but silent glances they cast towards one another, it was not hard to imagine their minds working over her words. Trying to determine if they had been a threat or even an admission of her part in the demise of the member of her Council whose foolishness had ended with a knife at his throat. Of course, they would never question her. And she was sure that most of them, for the sake of keeping their comfortable places of power in the upper levels of The Tower high above the city, wouldn’t even risk voicing their concerns to each other. But the effect was clear when she stood above them again, her gaze drifting from one to the other. From the smallest fox to the largest lioness, and even the regal white-tailed deer with his impressive rack, they all looked on with a distinctive silence that told her she was at least partly understood.
There would be no more questions from them about Valter.
“Very good,” she said, spreading her paws out in front of her in a gesture of welcoming and even forgiveness. She was benevolent when obeyed if nothing else. “Now to address the lawyer and her companion. Unless evidence comes to light that says otherwise, it will be assumed that he had no part in the assassination of Councilor Valter. In fact, for the good of the city and the stability of its population, any questions fielded on that subject will be answered with the truth: there is no evidence that he was involved and while we do not know his identity, he is doing the will of the Council, if not by order at least in spirit.”
Their only reply this time came in the silent nods of accent.
“Good,” she continued, tilted her head slightly as she considered the idea that anyone on the Council might find out the true identity of the Todd. It was extremely doubtful. “We will treat him as the hero the people seem to want him to be and afford Miss Hopps every courtesy and comfort our city has to offer for her stay. That will, in the short term, pacify those who are still calling out for our gates to be open to The Commonwealth.”
“Won’t the people see it as strange?” The speaker this time was Andrew, who was reclined in his chair with his paws laced together over his neat suit jacket. “That you are allowing a fox who is not under your direct control to run free in the city with someone so important?”
“Considering how heroic he seems after the attack at the prison, most won’t even be focused on that. But make no mistake,” she continued, her face as cool as the ice sheet of Tundra Town, “just because he is not directly under my control doesn’t mean he’s outside of its reach.”
___________________________________
He still wasn’t used to this sort of exposure. Particularly when he was standing in the impound lot not far from the ZPD, with a chain link fence the only thing between his back and a very open street. He had been in the ZPD building and even the jail system in the past week, but neither of those had felt as exposed as this. Even when he had been walking beside her while leaving the courthouse; or when she had stood in the open talking to Lionheart; or going for ice cream. Maybe it was the fact that they had been standing here for almost twenty minutes, the bunny beside him calmly filling out the forms that seemed obnoxiously long.
He was pretty sure she had been made to write her name down at least six times.
“All right, Miss Hopps, it looks like everything is in order,” the boar who maintained the impound lot grunted after he examined the pages carefully, twice. “The car is in lot 112 currently. Keys are here.”
“Thank you, officer,” she said, keeping her tone and her expression neutral.
Nick thought she was trying to keep it professional because he could see her tail twitching and her ears tremble when she reached up to take the key from the large mammal. She was excited and had been since waking that morning. Energetic and ready to get moving before the sun finished its rise over the city skyline. Having to fill out a barrel of forms had not changed that much and he was pretty sure she would have run through the lot like a kit at an amusement park if she hadn’t been on the clock.
“Ninety-nine, one hundred,” she counted aloud, causing him to grin as she started to speed up, forcing him to reach out to place a restraining paw on her shoulder.
“We’ll get there, Carrots,” he murmured, shrugging at the annoyed expression when she turned lavender eyes to him. “As much as they want you to believe otherwise, just because we’re on government property doesn’t mean we’re safe. The prison was proof enough of that.”
A small sigh was her only reply, though she did slow her pace as the counted down the last dozen lots before reaching the now very familiar chocolate brown car. At this point, he couldn’t have held her back if he’d wanted to. She bolted away from him and towards the car with surprising speed, instantly had the key in the lock, and was yanking the door open before he’d even had a chance to make sure there were no surprises hidden within. Slightly thankful when none arrived, he simply sighed and rubbed the bridge of his muzzle under his sunglasses for a moment before he walked over to lean against the hood while she had a look through the car.
“How many places can a receipt hide?” she muttered to herself, drawing his gaze. She had taken off her jacket and was currently crawling around on her hands and knees in the back seat. While the view was appreciated, he could hear the annoyance in her voice when she continued. “If someone removed the receipt and didn’t submit it as evidence for the trial, that will make this a lot harder. Nick, let me borrow your stick.”
That last part had him blinking slightly, one brow quirking high enough to be seen over the frame of his sunglasses as she sat on her knees in the back seat. “My stick?”
“Your baton, then.” She grumbled in annoyance and stuck her paw towards the door expectantly. A few minutes of searching and the paw that she held out towards him was already dirty. “I can’t reach between the seats here.”
“Look, cottontail, you can’t just take my baton and jam it between the seats like some… Stick,” he said as an uncommon indignation rise at the very idea of the weapon being used as a hunting tool in some otter’s car. He was about to continue when the cell phone in her coat pocket started to ring. Thankful for the distraction, he frowned to himself and holding the top of the door with one paw leaned forward as she dug out her phone.
“This is Hopps,” she said, her tone somewhere between friendly and professional. His eyes instantly narrowed, and he leaned closer when she cast a startled look in his direction, her nose twitching twice as her brow creased and she sat up straighter. “What do you mean you have it? Who is this?”
He didn’t bother to ask who is was. Her sudden confused tension has the fur on the back of his neck standing on end as she held his eyes, her expression shifting between confused to annoyed as she opened her mouth to speak again. When she stopped and closed it, he frowned when she held the phone in his direction.
“She wants to talk to ‘the mystery fox.’ She says she has the receipt.”
His frown flatted to a cool expression as he took the phone from her and stood upright as he placed it to his ear. “Speak carefully,” he warned in a low, emotionless tone.
“And the first words directed at me are so forceful,” the feminine voice on the other end of the call said, causing him to twitch slightly when what he could have easily called a pleased sigh escaped the speaker. “Alright, Hero. I have what you need, and I have what the bunny wants. If you want what I have, you’re going to meet me for a little chat. Just the two of us, sans bunny.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Well, that’s not very nice. I just want to have a talk, get to know the fox behind the bunny,” the voice continued, a familiar one that tickled at the back of his mind until it dawned on him who he was talking to. “It’s such a small price to pay for such an important item.”
“We do need it,” he admitted, though the tone of his voice didn’t change as he spoke, watched Judy as she stepped out of the car and stood facing him with a worriedly curious expression, “but meeting me alone is out of the question.”
“Look, I’m not trying to trick you or anything,” came the voice, though Nick was only half listening now as Judy waved both arms until he tapped the screen to mute the phone.
“Who is she? Does she have it? If she wants to meet, then meet her!”
“It’s a reporter. She wants to meet me alone,” he said dryly as the voice of said reporter droned in his ear. “Which isn’t going to happen because you go where I go, remember?”
“I need that receipt, Nick,” she said, obviously trying to keep her tone from showing the annoyance in her eyes. It was the same annoyance he had seen when he had refused to let her close the bathroom door her first day in the city. “There has to be somewhere safe you can leave me. With Flash, maybe. He has a bunker, after all.”
“Flash is an information broker, not a bunny sitter,” he muttered, holding up his paw when she narrowed her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. Plus, a squad of hit-mammals was already sent after you there. It may be under surveillance.”
“Well, there has to be somewhere you can leave me where you know I’ll be safe. You didn’t become ‘the mystery fox’ without hideouts,” she said, placing her paws on her hips as she stood facing him with a no-bullshit expression on her face. He was pretty sure this was because his reluctantly annoyed expression told her that he knew exactly the place. “Nick, I need that receipt.”
“I know…” He hesitated and frowned at the phone before he unmuted the line when the female on the other end asked if he was still there. He unmuted it for a moment to say, “Hold on.
“I know someone. But it’s not somewhere I think you would want to visit,” he explained, dropping the phone to his side. “For any reason.”
“As long as it keeps me safe while you go get the receipt, I don’t care if it’s in the sewers. You do still work for me, right?” she added, making him roll his eyes skyward. Determined bunny. And a snarky one he found when he lowered his shaded eyes to her again and saw her smug expression. Clearly, she knew she had won already. “So, do you know a place or not?”
“Yes,” he ground out before he raised the phone to his ear and released a slow sigh. “You have a deal. You name the place, as long as the time is tonight.”
He had never seen such a satisfied expression on the face of the bunny as the one she gave then, along with a whispered little “Yes,” when she slammed the door of the car closed.
Nick was wondering how long that expression would linger when she realized where exactly he was going to leave her.
______________________
The vixen held the cell phone in her snowy white paw for a moment, gently squeezing and relaxing her fingers as she stared at the screen in a mild state of shock. He had agreed to meet her. A time and place had been set, and she was going to meet him that very night. That mysterious, strong, handsome figure that she had been trying to get even a whiff of information on for a week without success was going to be standing in front of her. Where she could question him, try to get a read on him, decide if he was the hero she had portrayed him as in her article.
Not that it really mattered, she decided as she finally placed the phone on her desk again and rocked back in her deep leather office chair. She would portray him as a hero because it would sell. Her most recent article had sold more hard copies of the newspaper than anyone had seen in years, not to mention the insane number of online views. Everyone wanted to know about the fox and the bunny he followed; a fox and bunny both who were not following the present archetypes for their species in any way. They both made for a good story, considering that Hopps was the only one of her kind in the city. But she had her own reasons for wanting to know more about the Todd, not all of them purely professional. Not all of them pure in the slightest, as a matter of fact.
“You should be careful,” came a voice, one that didn’t surprise her out of her thoughts just as they had started to turn lustful. It simply made her focus on the similarly white-furred male who stood at her office door, one of his paws resting on her door frame. The powder blue suit and dark tie that he always wore in the office was lacking the jacket at the moment, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Sharp eyes over a dark nose and untrimmed whiskers made him a pleasant enough specimen to look at, though she considered herself too far out of his league to do more than look. The expression on his pleasant face was one of calm concern. “You don’t know anything about him.”
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop, boss,” she muttered, sniffing slightly as she plucked her phone from her desk again and grabbed her purse. She would need to change clothes. Something more appealing to a spectacular male, rather than the typical day clothes she wore to titillate her sources. “It’s not polite.”
“Yeah, well your name might be on this particular door, but my name is on the building,” he said, turning to allow her to pass when she slipped through the door. He was a news mammal, after all. He wasn’t in the habit of standing in the way of a story. “Just be careful. We already know he’s killed at least one mammal and there are some people you don’t want to hold out on. You can call him a hero on paper, but don’t expect to be treated like a damsel when you have what he needs and refuse to give it. And I’m not talking about…”
“Yes, Andy,” she said, rolling her eye skyward for a moment as she paused and turned to face him. “I just want a look at him. I’m not going to push him any further than he’s willing to go. He’ll get what he wants tonight.”
He looked less than convinced. Maybe because she hadn’t been able to keep the sultry little grin from spreading over her muzzle, though he replied with a nod before she turned and made her way to the elevator.
“Watch your tail,” she heard him say as she pushed the button to take her down, turning as the doors started to close, “but get me a story.”
Her sultry smile turned more than a little predatory when the doors closed between them.
Meetings with the Council. Incredibly important, though not for the reason many members of the Council believed. The Administrator wasn’t even thinking about them as the elevator silently and uncommonly slowly descended, instead using the pad in her paw to review the latest news articles that involved one as of yet un-named fox. An attack in prison. Another daring rescue of both the bunny and the prisoner. Another leak to the press. The fact that no one knew his name didn’t surprise her in the slightest. In fact, she very much doubted anyone would be able to find anything more on him than the fact that he appeared like a phantom when Miss Hopps came to Zootopia. Even she had not been prepared for his coming, so the fact that there were whispers of Yurei within certain dangerous circles of the city seemed apt.
Without more information to go on, there was a good deal of speculation by the press, some seen as she swiped the screen to the next news organization, ZNN. None of it was confirmed or commented on by herself or the Council, of course. But the glaring question on the front page of the site ‘A Hero in Zootopia?’ sat above yet another leaked picture of the handsome Todd easily dismantling a larger, and armed, predator inside of the prison meant that it wasn’t something that could be ignored by the government forever. How, and if, she should spin it was something she was still considering. Not that she expected Nick would ever stand in front of a camera, shaking Lionheart’s paw in a glorified photo shoot, but there were ways to make it seem as if everything was business as usual without actually trying to bring him into the fold.
She tapped the screen of the pad in her paw, locking the screen when found the sand fox standing just outside of the elevator with his arms folded behind his back, dark eyes sparkling as he gave a slight bow upon seeing her. The flick of her ears and the surprised pleasure on her face was faux, something that she was sure he knew as well as she did.
“Andrew, darling,” she said, her muzzle spreading in a pleasant smile as she stepped out and immediately past him. He fell into step with her, respectfully one step behind, as she kept walking towards the Council Chamber. “I assume everyone is gathered.”
“Of course, Administrator,” he said, the low hum of his voice keeping with the somewhat amused tone that told her he knew that she hadn’t been asking a question. “They are eager to discuss the recent developments, not the least of which is filling the void left by General Valter.”
“There will be the standard election, of course,” she replied simply, keeping her pace steady even as she saw the holographic walls of the Chamber come into view. The members of the Council itself had been more than eager to allow her to redesign it, once she had made it clear that it would make them the most advanced and envied government body in the world. Currently, the relaxing canopy of trees that ringed the room sang with the unobtrusive but constant songs of birds and the gentle whisper of the waterfall. These were all clearly made of light, being partially transparent, but the effect would and often did change depending on the mood of those within. Particularly hers. “But there is no rush to fill his seat, is there? He was such a dear friend and there are no pressing matters of governance that would require a full voting body.”
She doubted that he had missed her tone when she had called him a friend, as loose as the term might have been. “Of course, forgive my lack of compassion in what must have been a horrible loss for you,” he said, and though she didn’t look back she was certain she could hear a hint of a smirk in his voice. “I know he was one of the first to endorse your position as Administrator, along with myself. Though we shouldn’t wait too long to put forward candidates for the election. The rest of the Council will not be so understanding if we find ourselves at a standstill because of a deadlocked vote.”
“There may be someone on the Council willing to abstain from important votes until the political climate would welcome new candidates,” she commented, pausing for a moment as she turned to look back at him. “We will have to consider that they will be the future leader of the armed forces in Zootopia, after all.”
“I would be willing to abstain for the time being,” he said, causing her to fully halt her steps and raise her eyes to his face with a small smile playing over her muzzle as he continued, “and take over the burden of his considerable administrative duties in the interim.”
So humble, was her thought, though having known the male for most of her life, she didn’t buy it for a moment. But it was a part of her position to be paranoid.
“That would be a weight lifted, Andrew,” she said, warming her voice as she glanced towards the chamber ahead. Her platform was just beyond the waterfall now and even over the birdsong and babble of water, she could hear the Councilors growing restless. Ignoring it, she turned her attention back to him. “I will have the proper administrative powers transferred to you after the meeting is completed, though I see no reason to burden you with command of the armed forces themselves. Nathanial was experienced, and a transfer of leadership at this point would unsettle those who served under him. For the time being, I will retain silent command and deal directly with the generals myself.”
The broadly furred male opened his muzzle as if to offer protest, then closed it with a slow nod.
“Whatever you think is best, Neveen,” he said, his own ears flicking towards the Chamber again before he waved a paw for her to continue. “I assure you, I will take care of everything. And I can’t fathom that the other Councilors would argue with having my vote temporarily removed from matters of law.”
“No, I don’t image they will,” she said, a coy grin playing over her muzzle before she turned and made her way to the waterfall.
The light shimmered around her as she stepped inside once they parted ways, pausing for a moment while inside to allow Andrew time to reach his place before she stepped out onto the podium that overlooked the Seat of The Council. The moment she left the water, the room started to change. The peaceful wilderness setting melted away, rippling as walls seemed to solidify around the room. Elegant oriental craftsmanship flowed outward from her place at the head of the table, dark-toned wood in vibrant reds circling the table now. The curves and lines suited her, pleased her, as did the spires of the Zootopian flag that became her backdrop as she faced those on the Council.
Without Valter, there were now eight mammals sitting around the table. There was a sort of balance to it now, one that had not really existed before. Four foxes of various species, three representatives of the prey species, including the good Doctor Lyndon, and a lioness to balance the larger predator votes. They all grew still and silent with her appearance, whatever their species, and she looked over them with a cool eye. Like Valter, most of them still believed themselves to be far more important than they were on the road to remaking Zootopia. It was, perhaps, time that she gave them a small reminder of that.
“Good morning. It is a pleasure to see you all again,” she said, her voice pleasant enough as she swept her golden gaze over each one of them. Then her muzzle curved in a smile that was as cold and hard as those eyes as she nodded. “We have a lot to cover today. But let us begin by talking about the bunny.”
