[u][b]Settling In (Sequence: Three)
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Smokey scares me. I know that I am not supposed to say that because she is small and I am big, but things are not adding up. For example: we got home and ate the convenience store hot dogs. What I expected to happen is she would only be able to eat a few bites before getting full considering the hot dog is about the same length and width as her. Instead, I take my eyes off her for a second and the fucking is consumed with no visual sign of her being full. She remarked that it was good and directed me into the basement to begin letting the fairies out. Then, once we were downstairs, an odor began to emit from her direction - it smelled like iron. At-first, I did not make the connection it was coming from her, but once we both went over to the pool table to begin letting the creatures out - it became abundantly clear the odor was coming from her. In the following days, I learned that this odor always emitted after she consumed food. And no, I have not confronted her about the smell. Something in the back of mind, as if it were natural instinct, is telling me to steer clear of the subject.

Anyways, about the fairies. I am beginning to question Smokey's logic on the value/worth of these things. Well, I have no questions that people will want to buy these things for their sado-masochistic-rape fantasies, which is why these creatures are banned from ownership - but I am speaking purely from an effort perspective. It became clear as day right when Smokey, with a simple tap of each stasis chamber, released the fairies they were going to be a pain. In-tandem, as if they were never asleep in the first place, all the little fucks popped right out of their respective sarcophagi making odd mews and chirps. Some climbed out and used their wings to fly down to the pool tables surface - their flight was shaky and weak, dizzy and disorientated from their rest in the chambers. Other fairies stood up and made an attempt to fly and instead fell to the bottom of each box. The ones who fell to the bottom of the boxes began to emit high-pitch mews that resembled something akin to a crying fire alarm.

I had a headache almost immediately - if Smokey was not in the equation, I would have gladly splattered the loud-crying ones with the mallet, then subsequently splatter the other ones crying because I shut-up the loud ones in the first place. But Smokey was worth at-least listening to for now, so I got to work while they were still disorientated, or well that was what Smokey directed me to do.

"So, Masta' o' tings' - let'us get workin for they get rowdy. The ones flight-enabled will be up flutterin' bout soon, so we need to catalog em."

Catalog? Geez, are we running a concentration camp or something? Then again, I am the Master of Things. Now, I am not saying I like Nazis or anything, but I totally respect them for filling the ultimate "Master of Things" type ideology. The management of what they perceived to be dirt, their scientific advancement, their sharp uniforms - just looking past what they did, the Nazis, like me, are Masters of Things. My mind began to race with such thoughts, and it happened...

"Heh - so ya' a fan of dem' old boys?"

Wait what? Did she read my mind? That is not possible. I don't care if she is a fairy. Mind-reading is impossible, right? At-least for something so puny. In that moment, I was so baffled I merely responded with, "Keep an eye on them - I'll be right back." I let my mind focus on something other than the fact that Smokey probably read my mind. Thus, I let my focus drift to my new objective: acquire a notebook, pen, tape, and measuring tape. I am assuming that cataloging meant writing down characteristic of each individual one, measuring their sizes, and then putting them in groups based on value, right? I always thought about doing this actually. We categorize dogs, cats, coffee-types, soda, and so on - well I always wanted to do it to humans. Of-course, I am not racist, or anything like that, but I am just saying that some people act certain ways and we need to catalog them. Anyways, I guess the fairies can serve as a beta-test for categorizing, or something like that.

So, to forget Smokey's violation of my mind I turned to eugenics. I saw, at a glance, that the provided fairies bared some resemblance to our races. I could use these to measure ability! Yes! I finally had the answer right here! But Smokey spoke about turning a profit from these - I need these for an extended study. Well, I can accomplish both things at the same time. Eager, excited, and more alive than I have been since forever, I gathered up my materials and rushed back downstairs.

The fairies were still disoriented when I got back downstairs (and some still crying as they remained trapped in the bottom of the boxes).

"A han' please? Get em outta the boxes, carefully"

I reached into each box and carefully plucked the fairies that fell. Most did not put up a fight, but a few, notably the ones of darker complexion, squirmed about in my hand. Well, one even nipped my finger, so I naturally let go. It fell back in the box and got in the corner. That thing kept letting out cries of protest, "Oh! She myaaad' at'cha" Smokey shouted as she hovered over my shoulder.

"Fucking - little thing bit me," I went for the mallet. My golden instrument of justice.

"Easy! Easy! Other faeries see'ya fug' her up we will have trouble."

Yes, Smokey was right. I need to calm down. I need to be like a scalpel - not a club. The Nazis, a prime example of Masters of Things (But I am not like them! I do not condone their actions!), acted with precision.

"Dey' weren't all you puttin em up ta' be," Smokey whispered as she hovered next to my ear. A cold sweat suddenly broke out all across my being. I took a deep breath and forgot that Smokey, yet again, violated the sanctity of my mind.

I turned my attention to - Nipper, yes that is what I would name this one. Nipper had an olive complexion, a bit dark, but not quite ebony. It had amber eyes that shone with the absolute most intensity. Yuck, it looked like a fucking animal.

"If it makes ya' get back to work Masta' o Tings' I'll totes' let'cha take that one for whatever."

"Yes - I think I'll take you up on that offer," I sealed the box and left Nipper inside. I removed the boxes from the pool table, along with all the supplies, and got to work. The entire process lasted well into the night for a few reasons.

One: The fairies began to recover from their dizziness. One who could fly began to test said ability regardless of my shouts to stay down. Of-course, they would listen, but then a few others would try to fly about the room. I would yell for them to stay put. It did not seem like they understood that orders apply to all of them.

Two: They began to get tired, hungry, thirsty, or whatever. Fucking little things kept griping. Chirps, mews, and other little babbles of the inferior over and over again! I popped open a jar of the dried mushrooms and scattered them about in little piles for them to eat. I put down the jelly-water on the pool table also, so they would begin to eat, but they behaved like animals - well some of them seemed more smart than others. So some would go to a pile of food, begin to gorge themselves, and actually attack other fairies who came near. They would be well past bloated (and then some) and still be ravenously defending their respective pile. Other fairies would retrieve food and move off to another area alone. Now, a special few, would actually divide their own food and share it with others.

Three: There was simply a lot of them. I counted a total of 258. Imagine 258 chirping, whining, sub-human, shitting, pissing, hovering little glorified gnats raising hell.

At-first, I divided the pool table into four sections using tape. My idea was to put more valuable ones in the specific regions, but that idea fell apart once I scattered food all about. So, I resorted to a crude tactic, but one that worked none-the-less, marking them with paint. My estranged bitch of a mom tried to embrace her artistic side back when I was in high-school. Bought a ton of paint and never used it, so thanks bitch. I made a system using the paint. Four colors: red, blue, green, gold (Value in that order with gold being the greatest).

Additionally, once I marked them across their chest with an X, I took a photo of them with a digital camera and gave each a number. So each fairy was given a number from 1 through 258 - each had their bust size measured and was carefully assessed. I marked paint across their chest based on their base attractiveness, but also on how much intelligence I saw in them. It was hard to measure intelligence, but I feel that I could just kinda see it. The greedy ones fighting to protect food while stuffing themselves ripe to pop were obviously marked as red regardless of other stats - their aggressive nature indicated their sub-par intelligence (Interesting note - these ones seemed to have larger breast sizes. Coincidence maybe?). To qualify for blue-tier they had to demonstrate at-least some basic reasoning capability, such as isolating themselves with food to avoid confrontation, but did not display any empathetic capabilities. Green and gold tier were separated by a convoluted mixture of guesstimates - green ones usually were held back by not being as attractive as gold tier ones, but displayed socialization capabilities. The green and golds would group up in small clusters and share food among themselves while quietly chirping (Maybe language?). Some would accept being marked with some mild discomfort, others would giggle as the brush tickled them, but a key qualification for being in green and gold was the ability to accept my mark without any aggressive-reaction.

It was around midnight when I finally finished. Smokey hovered about satisfied with watching me, but keeping her mouth shut. When it was all said and done, and I collapsed on the couch, Smokey landed on the couch and I realized she was at-least a head higher than the other fairies, "Go ta' sleep upstairs. Gud' job so far! Take Nippa' with you too!"

"Uh, what about the fairies? Won't they get into trouble if I don't put them somewhere?"

"Eh, dun worry! They seem ta' be mostly falling asleep. I can keep em' in line."

I got up and grabbed the box that contained my little treat in it, "I'll take your word for it. We'll get working on making them homes, or something to that effect tomorrow."

Why was I okay with this? They were annoying and would only be more annoying once I had to care for them in-depth. Well, Smokey seemed worth listening to - for now. I took Nipper upstairs, keeping it in the box, as I went to sleep.

Waking up the next morning gave me a shock...