Taschmonchen

Warnings: This one touches on depression, and failed pregnancy. It skips around it trying to be gentle, but... It's a trauma.

To help offset as well... The number of in-jokes in this one is sky high.

And of course, because trauma, no sex in this chapter.

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Blauer didn't look up as she walked into her study. Feet scuffing the floor as they dragged along. Nearby on a couch, Flare and Nixie were making up after another fight. The flaming monchen with her head between the other's legs. Blauer knew she should probably tell them off for making it all about sex, but she was... Too tired.

She was beyond exhausted. Every single time she tried to take a step forward, there was Roter, doing it as well. Looking clumsy and idiotic as he broke every rule... And somehow managed to pull it off.

No one else seemed to have noticed it yet, but she had. Roter wasn't normal. He wasn't going to be able to live the ordinary life that he seemed to actually want. There was something about the infuriating and optimistic man that guaranteed he was going to be one of the giants of the field.

He'd trained the untrainable blitzchen.

He'd discovered the monchen of legend, verfolchen.

He'd done it all whilst smiling, and blundering through, without actually putting in the effort that Blauer knew that he was capable of. There was no doubt in her mind, that if he tried to champion the world, he'd absolutely be capable of it.

Blauer had been absolutely convinced that crossbreeding was the way forward for understanding monchen. For creating a sustainable future for the various races, before their own genetics led to the inevitable and looming collapse.

You can't just clone yourself into an egg, endlessly. There are only so many gene variants that can be produced, before the dangerous mutations go from rare, to common.

Everyone was focused on solving the problem, from every angle. People researching where the monchen came from. People incubating eggs, and trying to guide the hatching process. Trainers looking to make stronger and tougher breeders, with fewer mutations through illness.

She hated to admit, hated herself for knowing it, but what the community needed right now, was Roter's bright smiling face. He could inspire, and she couldn't. He could make people excited to turn up to work, and she couldn't.

Rita didn't need Blauer's failed experiments with embryo hybridisation.

She needed... Blissbun.

Blauer walked over to the couch, and nudged Flare, "Oi. Time for our first trial. Sit up."

The feuerchen made a disappointed face as she leaned up, her chin sizzling and steaming. The monchen giving a deep frown, "What did I do wrong, this time...?"

"We're here to work, not just play." Blauer pulled a needle from a tray, flicking the end as she prepped the solution. "Do you remember the process? I did explain it to you."

The flaming hair on the back of the woman swayed from side to side as she shook her head.

Blauer gave a heavier sigh, "I'm looking to make a hybrid. That means we're going to use your eggs, as you seem the most resistant to elemental changes. You can fight through other monchen's magic. So... There's a chance. A small one."

Flare frowned, "Don't really get it, but sure."

"I'm going to make you pregnant." Blauer stated flatly, "Hopefully, with one of Eve's kids. But, chances are, it won't take. You'll lose the egg."

Flare's neck moved as she swallowed nervously, "I... I'll lose my kid?"

"Probably."

She winced, "I... Don't wanna."

Blauer went to snap, and then took a deep breath. "More like Roter. I can do that... I know it's scary. It will suck. I will be here, right with you. And if they survive... That's the hope of every monchen. They'll be the first of the future."

"Use me." Nixie whispered quietly, sitting up and letting her hair melt so that it was perfectly straight again.

Blauer shook her head, "It's sweet to offer, Nix. Really. But I'm using Eve as the donor, not you, because your magic is... Too adaptable. Chances are, if you donated, that your essence would eat Flare from the inside out and she'd just die."

"Geeze. What part of me running the experiment, didn't you get?" Rita breezed into the room, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. "Tainted the process already. Bare hands on the instruments? Waldchen. Sanitize. Assistant, step backwards, and explain your solution."

The eye-patched woman smiled sweetly at the monchen as she started to rearrange the table of instruments, passing each one to Nixie who boiled it in her hands furiously, before grinning proudly at the professor.

"I..."

"Got excited. It's fine, darl." The professor smiled, before hesitating, "Once is, anyways. Everyone gets excited to change the world. But let's do things right, eh? So... Solution?"

Blauer rolled her jaw, "This one comes as a surprise. The solution is basically Eve's donated tissue -"

"Science first, trainer second." Rita interrupted.

"The waldchen donated an intact egg. Infused with sexual vigour." Blauer restated, "That was left to incubate for six hours, to stress the embryo. Before implanting, I intended to place a third essence within the feuerchen."

Rita frowned, "Third essence? Not the wassechen. That'll kill the subject. Can't do it, darl."

"No. Not the wassechen." Blauer swallowed drily, "Eh... I encountered a monchen, recently. With the assistance of... One of the Wicked Thirteen... I retrieved the essence of a verfolchen. Trainer Roter was also present, and can confirm the existence."

Rita blinked and stared, "Present. That's one way to describe it, certainly."

"Already got Vanessa's report? Sorry. I was just... Trying to say it science-like." Blauer defended herself.

Rita shrugged, "Stevie's report, actually. She's quite a trainer, for a complete and utter bitch. She noticed you nicking something. Essence of the verfolchen, then?"

"Vanessa... Suggested you'd attack Stevie."

Rita nodded, "I'd kill her, given half a chance. But I wasn't there, and now I'm here. So... You were planning to use the verfolchen's cum as a penetration pact? Preserve the egg from the immediate antibiotic reaction, and misdirect the system so it can't adapt before implantation takes place."

"I don't think a pact would work, if it came from any other species. My original plan was actually to perform a temporary hysterectomy. Have Eve, sorry, the waldchen, grow an incubation chamber for it, that can adapt, before reimplantation."

"High risk of death, but... Acceptable risk. Not a bad idea." Rita considered and then nodded, "This is better. Any idea where the host is?"

"I believe the verfolchen chose Stevie as the next owner."

Rita winced, "Then it'll dead by the end of the week. Freaking Zilan. Not that it'll bother Stevie a single bit. As long as it dies fighting, she'll be proud."

"Zilan is a... Donnchen, isn't she? I don't know much about them."

The professor shook her head, "Not a viable research path. They are monchen, and worthy of study. Unfortunately, in the past, they have been used as weapons of war. As such, we're banned from using as them for any kind of trial, whatsoever. Requires federal approval, and it is never given. Ever."

"Never met one before. I was just curious." Blauer shrugged. "I may be a tad... Focused... But not everything is about my trial."

"It should be. You have one chance to prove yourself." Rita growled, "You're not Roter. You don't get to prove yourself by adapting a random monchen to city life. You're here to make a difference, Blauer, and if you don't, then you will never train another monchen, ever again. You will not be permitted to even own one."

"Yes, professor." She stated quickly.

Rita shrugged, "You're also a kid. Well, compared to me. So, do what you can, and I will. But this is a researcher position. High stress. Not everyone can hack it, so approach it with that in mind."

"Done being a total bitch? Ready to put an egg in me?" Flare snarled.

Blauer looked around in amusement at the three of her monchen. Every single one of them had their hackles up. She hadn't had them that long, but there was a distinctive bond between all four of them. They had something that was more than just trainer and monchen.

"Implantation should be slowed." Rita frowned, "To be more effective... We should douse the feuerchen's flame. And I'm not just suggesting it because she wants to burn my face."

"I guess Nixie could dunk her?" Blauer frowned.

"The wassechen isn't required to do such a primitive thing. We are a research centre." Rita shook her head, "Eve? There's a pill in my back pocket, could you fetch it, darl?"

The waldchen glared, "Go fuck yourself."

"Eve!" Blauer exclaimed.

The forestgirl shrugged, "She's a bitch, Blau. She's the bitchiest bitch in the whole wild bitch. We don't like her. None of us! Don't care if she's your boss."

Blauer sighed, "Eugh. We're back to that, are we? Fine. I order you to help. Or I'll order Flare not to burn you, but instead to take a giant duke in your fucking nest. Got it?"

"Ye-es." Eve burst into tears, walking over and pulling out a silver packet, and popping the pill into Rita's waiting hand.

"Anaesthetic, derived from the magical essence of both a schlachen and blattchen. Processed, not synthesised." Rita explained and popped it into Flare's mouth without asking for permission.

The feuerchen snarled, but bit down and crushed the pill. A mistake she immediately regretted and tried to frantically scrape it off her tongue.

Rita snickered, "You swallow that one, darl. It's not a rezpill."

"Fuck you! Fuck you!" Flare screeched, before going back to wiping at her mouth. Blauer noticed the way their arms were already slowing down, though. Draining the woman's energy, and pushing her gently towards sleep.

The trainer stepped over and helped lie Flare down on the couch. Straightening her hair and tucking the bangs, before the feuerchen went completely slack.

"Pact first." Rita stated, stepping up and whipping the woman's legs wide.

Blauer flinched, "This is so gross."

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Blauer stepped out into the cold air of the city, rolling her tired shoulders and trying to relax. She'd left Nixie and Eve fussing over the still-sleeping Flare.

Rita had told her to take a break. So far, the feuerchen was still stable. She was close enough to run if something happened.

The implantation hadn't been the easiest. Apparently Flare was smaller downstairs than most. Fitting the instruments hadn't been easy, and encouraging the roots had taken over an hour.

She took a deep breath in, and immediately regretted it.

Blauer stuck a hand to her mouth and swallowed the vomit, looking frantically around the alley to spot the source of the violently nauseating stench.

She immediately spotted a monchen, clearly a stray. They vaguely resembled a wassechen, but they were soaked in the grime and trash of the city. There were fast food containers floating and dissolving in the green and grey swirl of their stomach.

The monchen was crouched, quickly shovelling the contents of a nearby rubbish bin into their mouth. Paper bags, half-eaten food, rotting food, worms, all of it went straight in, without chewing.

Blauer fumbled around in a pocket, producing a bag of beans and held them out, whilst also holding her nose with the other hand, "Hey, eh... Are you hungry?"

"Working." The wassechen snapped, and continued to inhale the bin.

She blinked, "Work... Wait! Is that how they do rubbish collection, here? We all just composted stuff together in the village."

"Sh-share...?" The monchen stared at her in horror, "But... It's mine! My rubbish! I'm never letting anyone co-compost it! That's gross. I wanna melt it. Ew. Weirdo."

"Blauer... Oh." Rita poked her head out the door, before walking over and smiling, "I see that you've met Splunk. Our friendly neighbourhood schunden."

"Professor." The schunden stuck her tongue out rudely, and then went back to eating the bin. The wastepaper boiling, burning, and curling up inside their skin until it melted away into darker sludge.

Blauer frowned, "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with schunden, professor. Is there a particular book on the subject that I could read?"

"Not yet." Rita smiled, "I'm in the process of writing one. They're a recent development, in point of fact. About ten years ago, the schunden didn't exist."

Blauer stared, "Wait... I wasn't wrong? It was a wassechen?"

"No. You were wrong, darl." Rita shook her head, "Not a wassechen. The microcoding doesn't match. They're a separate phenomenon within the same family tree. The schunden is only found in this particular city, nowhere else in the world."

"Shit. Roter's right. They can evolve."

Rita frowned and then shrugged, "Eh... Maybe, maybe not, kinda, not really. They're a subspecies. An evolution, certainly, but nothing the like of what your friend suggests is possible."

"Grammy was a wassechen. I ain't." Splunk snarled around a thrown out box of noodles.

The professor grinned, "She's more than just right. They share some similarities, family lines. Even moves and type trees. However, Splunk here is a bit famous. First to develop the use of a new move, that has spontaneously shown up in other schunden, since."

"Whoa." Blauer stared, "You invented a move? That's... Amazing. You're amazing."

Splunk grinned and winked, "Not so bad yourself, hot stuff. Now can you two stop analysing me? Work to do. If ya wanna stare, then buy me a drink at the pub, tonight."

Rite rolled her eyes, "She's got three monchen already, Splunk. She does not need to bed a fourth. Speaking of, Miss Blauer. Flare is starting to wake up, and the other two have become... Possessive."

"Shit. Kicked you out of the room." She winced and headed inside, waving as she went, "Nice to meet you, Splunk."

Rita waved a warning finger, "She has enough, Splunk."

Blauer headed up the stairs quickly, and turned left into her office, and ducked as a fireball crested over her head, singeing her hair, before detonating in the hallway behind her.

Her face hit the ground, and her back screamed not just from the impact, but a million tiny burns. She could feel her clothes melting into the skin, as she buried the pain and forced herself back to her feet.

She went to yell at Flare to calm down, when she saw the woman's face. The monchen was bright red, tears in her shining eyes, as tiny tendrils of smoke streamed out of the pores in her face. Her hands were trembling, as Nixie desperately tried to water her and keep her cool.

"Nix, Eve!" Blauer commanded, "Get the fuck out of there!"

"She needs us!" Eve protested, reforming a charred root to tie Flare to the ground, as burst of flame came from her feet.

Blauer dashed forward, immediately realising that she was doing exactly what she'd told Roter was a stupid thing to do. She grabbed her other two monchen by the shoulders and commanded them towards the door, again.

They hesitated, but couldn't fight her. They knew she was the one in charge.

Flare, crying, knew exactly what was about to happen.

Blauer looked into those red and yellow eyes, so frightened and alone. She remembered how excited the feuerchen was to stay with her, when they'd first left the village. Heading out on the adventure of a life time.

She saw the flames engorge the back of the eyeballs, burn through them, and explode into the air.

"Blauer!"

She hit the ground, as Flare's instability overwhelmed the monchen.

All the others had done was buy her a few more seconds of pain. The implanted egg finished its chaos, turning the final few strands of Flare's magic into a cacophanotic boom that knocked Blauer into the darkness.

Her teeth hurt, and her head rang, as she rolled over to find Rita. The professor, curled into a ball and shaking, one arm turned to nothing more than charcoal. Nature's thanks for saving her assistant.

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"Wow, when I said to hit the pub, I thought you'd at least wait for me."

Blauer looked up from yet another empty glass, to see Splunk making the rest of the humans in the building grab the noses and stare in horror. The monchen grinned and sloshed herself onto the seat.

The trainer shook her head, "Not... Not today. Sorry for what I said and... I'm sorry. I was an idiot. I am an idiot."

"Heard about Rita." Splunk said more quietly.

"They're regrowing her arm." Blauer said through clenched teeth, "They're... Not confident. My fault. Flare's... Flare's... Flare's dead. My monchen is dead. My fault. So... Don't mind me, but I gonna get blind drunk, so I stop thinking about ending the game."

Splunk's entire body rippled with a flinch, "Flare?"

"My feuerchen." Blauer's bottom lip trembled. "She was... She was brilliant. Better than a diamond. But I had to prove I was better than Roter. Had to go and invent a way to crossbreed. And instead, killed the woman who loved me. Just... Leave me alone. You don't want to be near this."

The schunden picked up one of the empty glasses and tossed it into her mouth. Anxiously dissolving it, before realising what she'd done and guiltily glancing over at the angry barkeep.

Blauer shrugged, "Put it on my tab. Not like I care if I spend every point to my name."

"Kid, go home." The barkeep instructed, "No one needs you here. Not like this."

"Go fuck yourself. Actually, get me another drink, then go fuck your wife. Maybe then someone will like to hear what you have to say." Blauer growled.

Splunk shrugged, "She'll be okay, Tim."

He hesitated and then sighed heavily, "Fine. If you wanna take out the trash, Splunk, then it's all yours. One last drink, coming up."

"Everyone knows the friendly neighbourhood trash compactor." Blauer sighed, "Not me. Trainer. Genius. I'm nothing but an arrogant fucking murderer. Should have let Blissbun take me out. Never should of stolen Flare from Roter. He... He would have saved her."

Splunk reached over with an oily hand, rest it on Blauer's gently, "Hey. This isn't your fault."

"The fuck it isn't. Flare didn't want to do it. I killed her."

"You didn't do it. Professor did." Splunk insisted. "This is why, assistants don't get to run trials. You're not responsible."

"I made her do it!" Blauer snapped, bringing down a hand on the bartop, "Just... Piss off, would you?"

Splunk considered for a second, and then glared, "You know what? No. I'm literally made of rubbish. I eat it. Hunger for it. To most people, that means I am rubbish. I'm trash. But I didn't like that. I am trash. And that makes me awesome. So what are you made of, human?"

"Dead dreams." Blauer stood up and headed for the exit, leaving behind the untouched drink. "Don't follow me."

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Blauer didn't make it past the alley, before leaning her head into the nearest wall and struggling to decide between throwing up and bursting into tears.

A wind blasted by her, sending shivers up her spine and making her hair stand on end.

Her body decided for her and did both. Blauer had never exactly been one for drinking. Imbibing a slow working poison, to try and make life more enjoyable, had never made much sense to her, before this night.

Still didn't make sense, if she was honest with herself. Not that it was exactly a skill in her wheelhouse. She lied to herself, over and over. The sheet was drawn back, and she could finally see what a failure she was.

Blauer blinked in confusion, and then reeled back, "Ew! Please tell me that you're not!"

"Me job." Splunk leaned into the wall.

"Ew. Ew! I'm out." Blauer spun to walk away, tripped over her on foot, and thunked first knee into the ground, cracked ankle, and then knocked the sense out of her forehead.