“My dear, whatever is the matter? You seem distracted, love.”
Asher glanced away from the window when he felt a soft paw gentle stroke his thigh, seeing Benjamin looking at him with concerned eyes. After finding Lyon, the three of them had returned to Benjamin’s estate to relax, but not long after they had sat down in the smoking room (which had appeared while Asher and Benjamin were out on their walk), Asher had begun to feel oddly disoriented, like something was going on that he couldn’t quite explain.
“Hmm? Oh, darling, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Asher sighed, leaning up against his proper gentleman of a boyfriend on the silk-cushioned couch, laying his muzzle against Benjamin’s furry neck and inhaling his musky yet perfumed scent. One they had returned home, Benjamin had slipped into a beautiful velvet smoking jacket, giving him the distinguished look that drove Asher simply mad with desire. But as Asher relaxed against his lover’s body and listened to his rumbling voice as he chatted pleasantly with Lyon, Asher once again looked out the window and caught sight of something that made his heart race.
Just across the street, he watched as the air around one of the houses began to shimmer, warping and wavering for a few moments before coming into focus once again, but it was no longer the same home as before. A white picket fence had seemingly popped out of the ground to surround the entire building, with a bed of daffodils and marigolds springing up in neat little rows under the windows. The whole house was a single story, with charming little shuttered windows and a two-car garage, and the entire outside was clad in bright white aluminum siding. In short, the sort of home that had been build by the tens of thousands to fill the suburbs of America in the 1950s and 60s.
What on earth was such an inelegant and improper domicile doing in Asher’s lovingly crafted British neighborhood?
“...Uncle,” Asher sighed, rolling his eyes when he finally understood what was happening. ‘Couldn’t just let me have my fun, could you? Never could understand what he sees in all this tacky 50s nostalgia. Who could honestly prefer a mass-produced suburban house to a lovingly-crafted and elegant Victorian manor?’, he thought bitterly.
“What was that, Asher?” Lyon asked airily as he sipped a snifter of brandy leisurely, lounging languidly on an antique chaise longue that had been imported from France with his tail slowly whipping from side to side as he savoured the thick and heavy flavour.
“Nothing at all, my dear Lyon,” Asher once again deflected the question, knowing he’d have to take action to avoid letting his uncle take over any more territory. Badgers were rather territorial creatures, after all, and Asher suspected that if he didn’t act quickly Felix would fill the whole neighborhood with as many greasers, poodle skirts, muscle cars, and ‘50s boys next door he could get his hands on. And so, the game was on between nephew and uncle. “Another brandy, my friends? I could fetch another bottle from the wine cellar.”
With grateful smiles, both Benjamin and Lyon drained the last of their glasses and set them down again. “Oh, that would be jolly good, dear,” Benjamin replied, planting a brandy-scented kiss upon the tip of his boyfriend’s muzzle. “...Ah, rather than that, I think there’s a bottle of port in the cellar that’s just begging to be opened.”
“Hear, hear! Jolly good idea, Benjamin!” Lyon concurred happily, expecting to be pleasantly buzzed by noon (a venerable old barrister tradition back home). And so, Asher used the pretense of fetching the wine to take his leave, knowing exactly his next move to regain an advantage of Felix…
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Asher quietly left the front door and kept his sharp eyes peeled for a suitable human to work his powers on. After a few moments of searching, he smiled as he spotted exactly what he needed; a young man carrying a few bags of food and looking around with confusion at the unfamiliar houses in the neighborhood.
“May I help you, sir?” Asher asked pleasantly as he sidled up to the man, who looked at the humanoid badger with bewilderment for a moment before slowly becoming used to the sight of a walking, talking badger in a dapper outfit.
“Uh, yeah. I’m here to deliver some food, but like, none of these houses are anywhere on my map…” the young man replied sheepishly. “Man… If this food goes cold, I’m never gonna get paid…”
“Oh, are you looking for work? A smart, hard-working fellow like you would be a welcome addition at the estate,” Asher said cheerfully, focusing hard on the man’s face and imagining it to look… different.
“H-huh? No, I mean… I don’t need a different job, even though this gig kinda fucking sucks…”
“Language, my friend. It just wouldn’t do for the master or ladies of the house to hear you speaking so, would it?” Asher lectured gently, waggling one clawed finger in front of the man’s face. “Say, what was your name again, old fellow?”
“Me? J-Jace, sir, and pardon my poor manners before,” Jace said, a hint of an accent beginning to slip into his voice and his posture immediately straightening.
“James, you say? A lovely name. Very traditional,” Asher said happily, his eyes glittering mischievously as the man’s face began to push forward into a nearly conical snout, tipped with a leathery black nose and with long, drooping whiskers sprouting out from each side. As soft, sandy-brown fur began to poke out from the skin on his face, Asher watched intently as his ears pulled upward around his face and grew into delicate triangles that flicked eagerly upon the top of his head.
As Asher’s focus intensified, he saw the brown fur spread across every bit of exposed skin, save for the skin around his hands and feet, which instead thickened into leather pink ‘gloves’ of paws, each one tipped with a carefully manicured curved claw. Finally, the fur on the top of Jace’s head and down the back of his neck shifted in texture, darkening considerably while starting to stand up straight from his skin. The strands of fur began to merge into thick, bristly spines, each one sharp as a splinter and tipped with white. Jace absentmindedly reached up and carefully smoothed the spines backward, giving the quills the appearance of a carefully oiled and slicked-back style, while the long whiskers on his muzzle grew heavy with wax as they stuck out proudly from the sides of his face and twitched eagerly.
All the while, Jace… No, it was James, wasn’t it? James looked around with confusion as conflicting memories began to gather in his mind. His delivery was completely forgotten, and memories of growing up in jolly old England surfaced. Growing up poor in a working class family, getting a lucky break working for a noble family in the countryside, working his way from stablehand to footman to valet before getting a job offer here in the States for a rich British family in need of a servant…
“James? I hope the heat isn’t getting to you, my friend. You’re needed in the smoking room,” Asher said quietly, and James snapped to attention immediately. “The good port, if you would?”
“Certainly, young master,” James replied easily, his smooth Received Pronunciation dripping off his words but still bearing traces of a charming Geordie accent beneath it. “I’ll prepare the glasses immediately.”
As he hurried back indoors with his bristly spines waving in the gentle breeze, Asher chuckled contentedly as his clothing began to shimmer and shift, becoming more suitable for his new position...
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Mere moments later, James the hedgehog butler tapped lightly at the smoking room door before smoothly sweeping into the room with a silver tray holding a dark glass bottle, a crystal decanter, and a set of crystal glasses. Asher silently snuck in behind him and took a seat next to Benjamin, who looked up at the hedgehog and smiled gratefully.
“Jolly good, James. Just in time,” the dapper badger said, taking in the butler’s appearance approvingly. Although his foot-paws were bare (as all anthro’s feet generally were), his trousers were perfectly ironed and made of gray silk, while his jacket and waistcoat were a deep charcoal black, over a pressed white shirt and topped off with a dapper red bow-tie. Benjamin, of course, had high standards for the personal appearance of his staff, but they never failed to deliver in their manner of dress or their level of service.
Without a word, James poured the three glasses of dark, thick wine and handed a glass to each man, then he reached into a nearby case and removed a single cigar. With practiced grace, the butler used a small pair of scissors to clip the tip, ignited it with a silver lighter, then he offered it to Lyon, whose eyes lit up as he took the offered cigar and happily gave it a puff. The lion was practically purring as he relished the thick, herbal smoke filling his lungs and followed it with a deep gulp of sweet port.
“Heavenly, simply heavenly,” Lyon sighed leisurely. With his work completed for the moment, James bowed deeply before turning and making his way to the door, though Lyon’s eyes were drawn to the hedgehog’s ample rear end, clearly outlined beneath his silk trousers, and the lion licked his lips with his blue tongue as he sensually sucked on the cigar. “...A good man, that James.”
“He certainly is, isn’t he? Taking care of a big estate like this isn’t easy, so having a few staff around to handle things is a dream. Takes some of the stress off of mum and my sisters, for sure,” Benjamin replied, taking a cigar of his own and lighting it for himself. Asher, meanwhile, just chuckled as his boyfriend sunk deeper into his new persona as a dapper and posh badger gentleman, while also thinking hard about his next moves if he was going to outwit his uncle...