FSE

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Taken to the Cleaners © Tsumi Moogle '15 Characters Themselves.

If there was anything that was particularly difficult about being a super hero, it was trying to get the stains out of the suit. Grass stains, debris, rubble and dust, occasionally mud, toxic liquids and the odd mutagen.. It was hard enough to explain the stuff, let alone getting them cleaned out, and finding somewhere that didn't ask questions were few and far between.

It had been on a handy piece of advice from a fellow hero that Morpheus had stumbled across Jerry's. A rather underspoken, mom-and-pop kind of dry cleaners in the slightly seedier parts of town. The outside of the single-floor 50's style building had the wear of age about it, several lights broken, a window cracked and the paint peeling. But he did steady, and very good business.

The old honey badger was a steely eyed creature. With the same sort of rough exterior to match his shop; grey muzzled, narrow-browed and a little surly, with a somewhat starched pinestripe shirt and slacks with suspenders. When spoken to however, proved he was a very modest soul. He didn't ask personal questions, beyond a simple 'How's school?' or 'And the folks?' or usually if there was anything to be mindful of. A simple, handwritten paper stub with a number and a time, and he saw people off with a nod.

Ever since he'd started taking his suit to Jerry's, he'd worn it back into battle, good as the day he'd first slipped it on, fresh, and snug, and flexible. The leather bio-mesh having a fond spritz of some concoction of Jerry's, an air freshener, the dry-cleaner had admitted with a grunt.

He'd noticed it on several of the villains he'd faced in combat too. A tiny nod towards the honey-badgers unbiased work. It didn't matter who, it didn't matter why and it didn't matter how. He was there to dry clean clothes, and that's what he did, and from what Morpheus could gather, that's what he had done for several decades. He was respected neutral ground.

It was then a great shock to the young hybrid when he'd returned to Jerry's with his backpack slung over his shoulder, his suit hidden within. The Honey Badger had long hours: open early, closing late, and he ate his lunch at the counter.. Pushing on the stained-glass door, it didn't budge more than to rattle. The deadbolt behind it, very solid. Frowning softly, the hybrid lifted a hand to the glass, trying to peer inside. No lights were on, but the outline of the desk and the machines behind the counter were barely visible.

The sign on the door still read 'Open'.

Checking over his shoulder, the hybrid frowned, and tugged a small key from his pocket. Rubbing it over by thumb, he pressed it to the keyhole, sliding it in slowly, and hearing the clicks of several pins adjusting. A right turn, then a left, and slowly the lock clicked open.

With another press on the door, it swung open this time. The young hyenolf stepped into the place, looking around. Opting to leave the lights off, he could see just fine in the dark, with an adjustment of his eyes.

'Jerry?' Morpheus called out, checking over the counter. There were papers, the small booklet of paperstubs, half emptied, a couple of pencils and a couple of old stains, probably from a coffee cup. Easing around behind the counter, the hybrid paused at an odd snap from underfoot. Another pencil lay in contrast to the black and white checkered tiles.. Jerry wasn't the sort of person to leave little details. The young hyenolf pushed open the heavy plastic doors to the back rooms. He'd never been there before, for good reason, of course..

The machine was still, and the large wall-spanning racks that he imagined would normally be laden with outfits were entirely devoid of clothing.. Several simple wire coat-hangers lay in place on the aged bars, one or two with a plastic cover, for suits that weren't there.. and a couple of strips of paper, numbered tags and times forgotten..

And a backdoor. Just as heavily locked as the front. The small beam of light it permitted under it's entrance reflected off a tiny patch of dust on the floor. Not a commonly walked area.. And in the dust, the hybrid could see the thing he'd dreaded most. Signs of something having been dragged out.

Someone had missed the memo of Jerry's being neutral ground.

---

Whoever it was, had been thorough. He hadn't been able to find hide or hair of a clue, other than that simple patch of dust.. No tire tracks, no footprints on the tiles, not even a lingering smell.

Pursing his lips at the bitter notion of someone having crossed a line that would doubtless have a large number up in arms, the hybrid considered himself. Without a clue to go on, he couldn't do much for Jerry, and more annoyingly, he still needed his suit laundered.

Some businesses were stark in their stance. Signs clear that they did not launder super uniforms. It was understandable, without the age-old silent understanding, they didn't have quite the same repetoire for privacy. One or two, that Morpheus asked at, guised as an inky black panther had a shadier look about them when modestly probed about their stance. More than likely they'd have either turned the knowledge over to someone bad, or to the media at large...

Footsteps wandering, leading him without really knowing where he was headed, the hybrid sighed a little. He could always resort to washing his suit himself.. Though he could only imagine the magnificent state it would come out in, if he did. Alex would be furious with him. He knew the investment that had been made into its design.

Shaking his head a little, he sighed before lifting his gaze. The building he'd stopped outside of was a modestly new looking joint. Refurbished, modernized, but with something of an intentional air of an older design. The fresh sign above the entrance emblazoned "#: Tags, Tears and Toeholes." A billboard out front of the building's sliding glass doors continuing; "Same day Descreet Dry cleaning and Laundromat available. We get out super tough stains or your money back."

Without much of an option, but his curiousity piqued, he stepped forwards, into the cooler air beyond the glass doors. The interior was a little more stark. White being the mainstay of the colour, with a couple of pictures on the wall surrounding the high desk facing the entrance. A heavier doorway off to the side letting slip a small but constant stream of warmer air, the smell of fabric softener, and the constant cyclic thrumming of washing machines in motion.

'Oh! Hello, welcome!' piped a voice that drew Kai's head back towards the desk. The doorway the figure having slunk through flapping closed. The rows of clothing beyond it in slow motion for the moment the hybrid could see it.

It was a Geoffroy's cat that had greeted him. Sleeker of form, golden furred marred with black spots. Cheetah, had been Kai's first thought.. but he lacked the facial markings, and build of said species. He looked rather more like a house cat.. Smartly dressed, with something of a more vivid haircut. His nametag read 'Taggart'

'Hi.' The hyenolf managed to smile. The feline at least had a welcoming air.

'Were you here to collect, or..?' coaxed the cat, leaning his forearms on the top of the desk, surveying the young hybrid before him.

'I was looking to get some delicates dry cleaned, actually.' Kai said as he adjusted his backpack, easing it from his shoulder.

'Though, I was reading your sign out there, just.. wondering about the descreet stuff.' Taggart's smile spread a little wider.

'It is what it sounds like.' the feline said. 'We don't take names, we just give out numbers. I'm just here to run a business. And I'm pretty sure there's not too many places that maintain a more delicate clientelle range, so it's somewhat of a niche. ' Kai's ears twitched as he thought quietly to himself. 'Especially now that Jerry's missing..'

He watched the feline for a moment or two, trying to guage the slimmer figure.. He didn't like imagining it, but he could see himself handling the feline if he tried something untowards.. Sliding his backpack over the counter, he watched the feline take it, before filling out a simple paper slip. It was quite nostalgic, really..

'Come back in a couple hours, I'll have it good as new and then some.' The feline winked, and padded on through the doors behind the counter, soon out of sight.

Kai turned on a sneakered heel and with a slight gnaw of worry to his stomach, stepped out of the building. He toyed the small slip of paper in his fingers, looking over the time, and the number scrawled over the slightly aged paper, pausing as he considered..

His suit certainly wasn't a normal make, even for an experienced laundromat.. Disguised or otherwise.. Probably best he be sure the feline used the special spot treatment Jerry had mentioned in passing, and to avoid certain parts. If the cat accidently engaged the potentia stores in it, the neighbourhood could very likely go up in a mushroom cloud. He didn't much like telling other people how to do their job, but this was somewhat important..

Pushing the door open again, Kai looked about the foyer area. Empty, as it had been when he'd entered before, granted he hadn't been gone a couple minutes. The sound of the washing machines in the other room were still going strong. He noticed a lack of bell on the counter, looking about for some manner of PA, or the sort.

Taking a breath, he stepped himself behind the counter, keeping his eye on the door. It wouldn't do for another customer to walk in and assume him to be working there.

Pushing smoothly through the heavy plastic doorway at the back, he stepped out into a room with a large number of clothes on a slowly moving rail system. It was still for the moment, but the soft hum that emenated from the rail suggested the machine powering it was on stand by.

The cat, no where in sight, made the hybrid frown, and following the rail, he traced it to a side-wall, where a solid white wooden door with a bright yellow 'Employees only' sign rested. A sturdy bolt on it, but unlocked, as the handle turned unfettered when Kai tried it.

The tiles fell away in lieu of a grate flooring. The rack continued down into a basement level area, sprawling a good deal beneath the building. He could make out the top of a rather large machine near the middle of the room, perhaps for dry cleaning.. There were several rows of clothing along a far wall, wrapped in clear plastic bags, and several with paper draped over the top, apparently a means of privacy.. That at least, was heartening. The cat seemed like a man of his word. Until his words found the hybrid's ears.

'Well hidden, and unusually unresponsive.. It's not megamesh, that I recognise, but then, I can't imagine that would work very well for a shapeshifter.' Taggart seemed to talk to himself. Kai's eyes widened, as he crouched, and kept down behind the clothingrack, until he could spy the cat's feet from under them.. and the ankles of a suit, -his- suit, next to his backpack.

'Well, I didn't imagine Morpheus of all people would need dry cleaning. ..Not that I'm complaining.' Heavy bootsteps approached the cat, stopping a few feet from his back. Thick work boots topped by thick cotton pants, and a heavy, dusty-coloured rudder-like tail that waved just an inch or so over the simple concrete floor.

'Last batch is done, Mr. Tailor, sir.' Came a slow and deep tone.

'Good work, have you restocked the agent?' Taggart responded snappily. He was a man firm in his position, apparently, with little time for prattle..

'Yessir.'

'Then fetch our guest. Two socks didn't work out well last time, maybe just the one.' The cat said, turning to step towards the machine. Kai froze, his ears perked as for a moment, he thought he'd already been spotted. The heavy boots turned, though not towards the hiding hybrid but instead heading into a deeper part of the work room, through another door, and returned to the cat before too long.

The sounds of muffled grunting, of a stirring body reached Kai's ears. He recognised the gravelly tone without issue. It was Jerry!

Taking a breath, he focused, forming his face-mask out of his fur. It, thankfully, didn't need a clean. Suitably disguised, he peeked around the edge of the clothing-line, Taggart's back to him, as was the large henchman, a roo built vaguely to the dimensions of a brick shit-house. A simple shirt with a logo on the back, and a short cropped head of hair. He easily stood at least three feet taller than his employer, and hitched on his shoulder, bound and gagged, was indeed, none other than the honey badger that Kai had been hunting for.

Taggart still had his suit though.. he'd be a lot slower, a lot less mobile.. In a whole mess of danger, in short. It was all he could do to watch..

The henchman adjusted the squirming badger, dropping him a little callously atop a conveyor belt that lead to the large machine. There were vats off one side of it, full of a chemical Kai couldn't place. Not chlorine, or any cleaning agent he could think of.

Taggart tugged at his victim's blindfold and gag, smirking as the badger grunted, blinking a little dazedly from the light pouring down from the hanging lights, but no less angrily at the manhandling.

'The hell do you think you're doing?! Get me offa this damned contraption now, and let me go!' His tone spoke of a man without fear. Kai could only watch, perking his ears. His respect for the old badger grew easily.

'And have you as competition? You must be joking. You've given me plenty to be going on with, and a perfect means of putting my plans into action. So then, Mr. Jerry.' The cat smirked, pressing a button on the side of the large machine. It rumbled steadily to life, beginning to roll forwards towards the yawning maw of the machine. The plastic flaps covering the mouth of it parting and draping over the badger as his feet vanished into the machine's depths. 'Farewell.'

The young hybrid stared as the old badger struggled, growling and shouting rather ominous threats after the feline, until his whole form vanished into the machine. A heavy door pressed shut in his wake. Taggart smirked, waving his ropey tail as he typed in on a screen that fed into the machine's side. He regarded the large roo standing by the conveyor belt, and kept typing. 'Sock, size' being all that Kai could make out from his hiding spot. One of the tubes over a vat darkened as some of the solution was siphoned out. There was a hiss like steam, and jerry's snarling noises sputtered, coughing heavily.

There was an odd rumbling from the machine, the sounds of many parts and pistons and well lubricated pieces moving in an apparent order.. Kai almost expected a pool of red to escape the machine, shivering, swallowing faintly.. If Jerry had.. because he himself hadn't acted..

The conveyor belt moved again, and finally, out came a large, black and white sock. Sturdy in make, and well padded. Taggart smirked as he handed Morpheus' suit to the roo, before lifting the sock up.

'Go put this on the rack, and get more of the solution ready. I think this batch is a success.' He stretched the sock lightly, watching the fibres and smirking. 'Still moving. You're alive in there. Even better. I wonder if you'll fade over time..' the cat considered, smirking wickedly.

Kai had been so preoccupied with the cat's words, and the shock of what he'd seen, he didn't realize the henchroo's boot steps were tromping towards him, until the enormous figure had already rounded the clothing rack. The brute's eyes found the small figure, and realizing he had another job to do, lifted a size 30 timberland to try and crush the interloper.

Kai yelped! Leaping forward, and rolling under and behind the roo as he heard the heavy foot fall, as well as what he was sure was the sound of concrete cracking.

Taggart turned sharply, staring at the young figure staggering to his feet a little clumsily, fixing his eyes on the sock in hand. A rescue attempt, apparently.

The hybrid didn't make it half the span between himself and the cat before a crashing weight slammed him to the ground. Rather feeling like a truck had hit him, and currently rested atop him. The henchroo's legs stretched from either side of his head. He'd been jumped on!

'Got him, sir. Was lurking behind the clothes there.' Taggart smirked as he took a step towards the pinned hybrid, looking to the suit, and then to the young form.

'Excellent work!' The cat chuckled keenly. 'Well, I think I've found the next test subject. Put him on the conveyor belt.' The Tailor smirked broadly, as Kai struggled to breathe, let alone try and escape. His ribs ached terribly, his head swimming from pain and a lack of air. The roo got to his feet, hauling his catch up by the scruff of his shirt, and dropping him unceremoniously on the conveyor belt, just like the badger before him.

'I'd like to see you shift your way out of this one. I'm sure there'll be plenty I'll learn from your suit. Next time you get to try it on, You'll probably be padding it.' The cat broke into laughter, terrible laughter that needed practice.

The sound of rapid keystrokes barely registered in Kai's mind as he coughed heavily, holding to his ribs and groaning. The conveyor belt rumbled to life under him, and began rolling.

Lifting his head, blinking away the stars of pain, he gasped as the machine's entrance rose up to greet him, eclipsing him like an eerie maw. The heavy door sealed him within, trapping him among the insides which held the mingled smell of machine lubricant, cleaning products, and that unfamiliar scent.

That scent which he was about to become a whole lot more familiar with as he was doused in the cloying liquid. It was both very hot, and cold at the same time, stinging at his form. Coughing and wheezing it in, his insides similarly felt as though they were catching fire, making him splutter.

And then the machine sprung to life about him. The floor wedging up, splitting and beginning to fold, press, in ways that would break a person, that should have broken him! But though he was still stinging, he felt little all else, other than the bizzare feeling of being kneaded, of something, or many somethings pulling at his form. His senses diminished readily, as did thought itself as the machine duplicated its last victim, and with a last steaming press, slid a sizeable, plush sock free from the other side.

The Tailor smirked as he looked over the fresh laundered hero. Scooping up the thick sock, and regarding it against the black and white one.. The hero's sock was brown, tan and white. Peering inside, Taggart smirked. He could make out the shape and marks of the would-be hero's face.

'Here you go, for a job well done.' Taggart said as he offered the socks to the henchroo. The burly figure blinked, but took them with a smile all the same. Draping them over his shoulder as he sat down ponderously to tug his heavy boots free.

Morpheus would have groaned if he were able. His mind awoke, with his body feeling very bizzare.. Stretched, and threaded and looped, bent and draped over something moving.. All he could smell was the cleaning solution suffused into himself.. And his vision was limited to the folded inside of some cotton tube, lined with -his- colourings.

He felt a broad thumb and finger pinch somewhere about his waist, before his body was flicked. A whiplashing motion that had his mind reeling.. Until he was turned about, and the tube that he realized was his -body- stretched out with thick fingers.. He found himself staring up at the collossal roo that had nearly flattened him. The rough-featured face looked down, either ignorant, or impassive at the notion of the sock he was preparing to pull on being a person.

His leg bent, and a broad foot loomed into view, before the henchroo began sliding the fresh cotton on. He made a pointed noise of approval, as the former superhero felt fresh from the packet and warm from the dryer, snugging, wrapped taut about his foot and calf.

The hybrid felt weird, hugged about the thick-shaped foot, with his face mooshed against the broad, leather-padded sole of the boomer's sole.

The humiliating position got worse though, as he felt the brush of more fabric sliding over the outside of his body, before a heated, spongey flooring pressed against his body. The rich waft of hard worn footpaws and leather filled his senses, as Morpheus realized the roo had pulled his boot on, the walls tautening about his form.

Trapped in place, barely able to twitch his stitched form, he lay hapless at the mercy of the henchroo as the burly form got to his feet. The roo wriggled his broad toes in the fresh socks, admiring the comfortable feel, before Taggart cleared his throat pointedly. Blinking, the large marsupial got back to work, his footfalls heavy and relentless as he worked diligently.

Moving clothes from rack to conveyor belt, getting the process happening, piece by piece. They were subjected to merely the cleaning, and a spritzing of the Tailor's nefarious threading solution..

Taggart smirked as he watched the large kangaroo working, knowing well that the hero had been soundly stopped in his tracks. His attention shifted then from the grunt work, returning to the front counter to take on more customers, swaying his ropey tail, more than pleased with how the day was progressing.

It was hard to guage time in the prison that the roo's boot was. Mashed over time and again, Morpheus could feel somewhat as the threading solution dried. More and more of his form became harder to feel, and twitch.. If he was trapped for too much longer, if he didn't come up with something, he would end up as an unmarked sock lost to a laundromat..!

Without his suit, he didn't have the extra energy to be careless.. he didn't have his bio-morphic metal to aid him.. it couldn't be an internal strike.. Though, with the roo's fur brushing against him.. and his own threads brushing the walls of the boot, a plan formed steadily.. What of his body he still had control of, he could still somewhat morph..

The great roo grunted as he finished loading a fresh load of laundered clothing into a large rack, preparing to refill the machine's threading liquid.. Morpheus had discerned the pattern of that, at least, knowing the number of steps, the motions and sounds of the roo as he stooped to heft the heavy barrels.. waiting, pacing himself.. it had to be perfect.. If he screwed this one up, there'd be no saving him.

And as the roo hefted the barrel up, more than enough to make even his large form grunt, the sock-bound hyenolf struck. He'd always been apt at emulating creatures, one in particular, an eel with notoriously useful and dangerous properties.. And the Roo as good as had one trapped in his boot. A great volting surge of electricity wracked up his leg from that foot. He gave a great yell of pain as his body siezed up, his powerful arms wrenching about the barrel, sloshing a great deal over himself, before the electricity abated. His body, without an ounce of fight left in it, crashed to the ground, dazed and near blacked out.

And with that moment of weakness, feeling the stuff soaking through his cottony self, the hyenolf clung tighter to the roo's foot. Pressing close, feeling more than fur and flesh, he felt, and read deeper, sharing in the roo's DNA, able to borrow and form with it. It was the most uncanny, awkward feeling, shifting from cotton to flesh, but with the threading solution, it was possible.. And with the roo at hand, more was possible.

At the same time, Taggart had heard the yell and the clattering crash. Getting to his feet swiftly, he hurried to the backroom, throwing the heavy door open. The sight and smell of the solution over the floor made his eyes widen.

'You bumbling imbecile! Do you have any idea how difficult that mix is to make?! You'll set me back weeks!' The cat raged as he stomped down the stairs, out onto the floor around the fallen roo, giving him a sharp kick in the side, making him groan and cringe. 'The day was going so perfectly, and you had to be the karmic mix that soured it all! The number of people we could be making clothes out of right now! The amount of money we could extort from family and high ranking officials! I'd fire you right now if I didn't need the musc-' He paused as his shoes splashed among the shallow pool of solution. His eyes staring over the roo, slumped on the ground.. With one of his boots popping its seams, and then tearing apart. The form hugged tight about the roo's foot swelling, adjusting, twisting in shape, until the roo had a perfectly identical, albeit naked doppleganger squeezing to his foot.

'No way..! No fucking way!' The cat spluttered, incensed as the hero shakily stood to his full and considerable, borrowed height. Morpheus looked himself over, at his hands, before exhaling gratefully. He stared after the cat, who backed up, wide eyed.

'Y-You can't have..!' The feline yelped. Morpheus responded with a simple and heavy bat of his thick tail. Sending the cat crashing against the side of the machine, and then collapsing into a heap on the conveyor belt. Tromping on shakey legs over to the console, the hero was quite glad for the foolproof UI. His thick fingers were cumbersome, but the buttons pressed easily.

Typing steadily as the dazed cat groaned and held his head. With a press of a large red button, the conveyor belt began moving, dragging the cat into the depths of the machine.

Watching with a small sense of karmic glee as the cat realized his peril moments too late, the machine's door seal closed, before the sound of frantic scrambling began against it; clawing and furious, terrified screeching echoed from the machine.

The ominous noises of the machine working hard were coupled with a slight empty sucking noise. The last barrel of the threading solution having had just enough to finish the task.

The thick hiss of steam, the stilling of pistons and lubricated joints, and the conveyor belt leading from the back guided the geoffroy's cat out of the machine.

Morpheus stood, staring over the snug pair of underwear he'd had made. He was stark nude, after all.. It wouldn't do to greet the police in a state of undress. Tugging the underwear up, he gave a soft test of the waistband, smiling at the springy nature, and the warm feel of the cotton. He couldn't help but smirk at the feline's face, it'd ended up on the inside of the front of the leopard-print y-fronts. Stepping one large foot into them, and then the other, the roo slowly shimmied the underwear up, allowing the feline the chance to admire, or dread every inch of the burly form he was slid up and brushed against until he snapped the band snug just below his waist. The fabric stretched around the curve of his rump, and the borrowed, considerable bulge of his groin, he could feel the faint stirring twitches of the cat, his face ending up tautly pressed against the underside of his henchroo's heavy balls and thick girth.

As he fetched the fallen hench-roo's other sock, he considered it.. reconstituting Jerry was a little bit out of his league.. Mercifully, he knew several people that more than likely had that capability.

Giving a slight sigh, the hero looked his suit over on the rack. It hung from.. It still ruefully needed a clean.. Well, it could wait a little longer.

Slipping into it, he adjusted the leather bio-mesh, feeling it stretch and adjust somewhat over his form. With the extra mass he'd borrowed for the shape, he had to adjust it momentarily, going sleeveless, and short-legged. The roo chuckled as the tightening suit ground the muted would-be villain against his groin, compacted by his own broad hand kneading, toying the cat's face against his groin...

'Personally, I think it'll be better for you in a safe place like this, cat. Once word gets out that Jerry's out of commission for a while, folks're gunna be looking for you.'

The police arrived within minutes at the hero's call. A small summary of what had happened, omitting the information on having been a sock himself, Morpheus prepared to get Jerry off to Nostor Laboratories.

'Morpheus!' called one of the police lieutennants overseeing the large roo being carted into a reinforced police van. 'What happened to this Tailor guy?'

Regarding the German shepperd's face, the hero inclined his head. 'Sadly, he got away. But I'll be keeping my eye out for him.' The hero nodded with a stoic look, giving a wave and lifting into the air, feeling the feline-turned-underwear squirming against his groin.

--Fin.