Russell made his way out after Howard and Cameron, and D1 was nowhere to be found, so he assumed she had taken off with them or gone her own way. No matter, he'd had quite a strange day. First, he had to discipline Howard, and now he had to reprimand his best friend. Maxion's corner of the station was a small unused classroom where new enlisted workers would come to learn the trade. It was not designed as a tailor shop, but Max made due. As Russell walked by, Maxion's outstretched tail pulled Russell into the room by surprise; he gently pushed the bunny up against the wall, leaving his tail coiled around his leg as his fingers did a tango on his chest, "Maxion, I don't have time for this," Russell frowned, "But I wanted to give you your anniversary gift!" Maxion added cutely. He kissed Russell on the lips, and when the bunny did not resist, he took that as an invitation. "Oh? And I suppose the gift is you letting me organize all this useless junk?"
Russell looked around the room; when he moved aboard, Maxion didn't hesitate to stuff all his collectibles from his years as a 'scavenger' into the room; he was indeed a hoarder. "Not quite!" He pulled Russell away from the doors and had him, Russell, on a pedestal where he could examine his ripped-up tribal wear. Two years as an enlisted security chief and a lifetime as a tribe member left his signature garments quite tarnished. He rubbed his chin and examined his outfit with curiosity. "You know— I always wondered why you kept wearing this stuff despite leaving your tribe... in all honesty, you need a new outfit," Maxion said. He was already taking Russell's measurements on an old-fashioned notepad, with a pencil and paper... and then he coiled Russell's form around in a measuring tape.
"Max, I don't have time for this!" Russell immediately tried to step off, "I promise we'll do something later, but I really gotta go!" Maxion insisted; he pulled Russell back onto the podium like a show pony and continued his brainstorming, biting his lip as he did. "It won't take but thirty minutes! I already did it; I have to make it fit your body. I could have it done in 15 minutes! I want you to look pretty for our date." Russell looked down at his outfit, "This belonged to my dad... and before him, his dad. It's all I've got left of him besides that pen. I feel like you know that, Maxion." Russell said, unamused.
Maxion nodded, and he stepped away into the depths of his collection. But was still in earshot of Russell. "You know that spy suit that you borrowed? And lost." Maxion started as he walked away to locate his suit crafting items. "The super snug one that was really uncomfortable? I can remember it— I'm glad I lost it." Russell crossed his arms and smiled triumphantly. Maxion returned with a familiar rubberized fabric and presented it to Russell. "Look what I made you! This is the gift. It would be best to have a new suit; you haven't changed your style since we met five years ago. This is the stuff I made my leg bag out of and the stealth suit you lost. And I kind of like what Cal's got going on, so I took inspiration," Maxion demonstrated the material's flexibility; black and grey latex-like synthetic fiber stretched easily. "This is the latest in Omeocoon design! It morphs and stretches with you as you use your shapeshifting powers! And it feels great like you're not even wearing pants!"
"Wait... you want to give me pants?" Russell questioned in horror, and Maxion nodded. "I know, my love, it's new, but I think you'd like it, and you'll look super sexy. The rest of the team will be jealous when they see you in your shiny new uniform! Plus, you'll blend in better with the rest of us. Let's be honest... the worn leather doesn't exactly scream futuristic. Trust me. I'll make your new pack out of the same stuff so you can match, and I'll give you toe inserts to make you more 'Omeocoon.' So?" Maxion asked. Russell looked down at his torn attire. He felt like giving up his old clothes was like throwing away a piece of himself. "Look, if you don't like it, I'll fix your old stuff, no sweat! After I shot through it, I saw you tried to do a patch job on your bag. I give you props for effort... but you need a sewing lesson." Maxion gave extra incentive. And Russell rubbed his chin, and after a moment of thought, he nodded. And Maxion jumped in excitement, immediately getting to work.
As promised, it took him a short time to form the material around Russell's body. Amidst the clutter of the makeshift workshop, the transformation of Russell's outfit began. Maxion's nimble fingers worked precisely, cutting and shaping the rubberized fabric into a sleek and modern uniform that would complement Russell's unique abilities and bring a certain flair to his appearance; he even included a new version of the loincloth, which was what Russell seemed to be fixated on keeping. He used no machinery, claiming that such an outfit needed a 'personal' touch. He was good, very good.
As the fabric took shape, Maxion's excitement was palpable. He held up the new uniform with a grin, showcasing its sleek lines and flexible design, his tail wagging with excitement as he neared completion. "Trust me, Russell, you're going to love this."
Russell observed the progress with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. He had agreed to this change, realizing that shedding his old tribal wear was a step towards embracing a new phase of his life. But the sentimental ties still tugged at his heartstrings.
Maxion held up the finished uniform, inviting Russell to step into it. The rubberized fabric felt different against his body. Maxion helped him fasten the zipper for the pants and the belt buckle for the skirt, a mix of comfort and the unknown, "I know you thought the stealth suit was uncomfortable... so I added special modifications to make you more cozy." Russell glanced at himself in a nearby reflective surface, seeing the new outfit's fusion of tradition and innovation. He wiggled his toes to get a feel of the one-piece nature of the suit. It would be easy to slip in and out of. He wasn't expecting the tail sleeve, however. "Still too tight," Russell commented; he turned around and examined the suit; he even wore the bag to complete the ensemble.
Maxion refused to adjust it further; the fit was perfect. "Oh, don't worry. That was done on purpose. You have to show off those calf muscles! " Russell turned to face Maxion, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but... thanks, Maxion." Maxion's grin widened, his excitement infectious. "You're welcome! And don't worry, you'll get used to the modern look quickly. Now, go show it off to the rest of the team. I'm sure they'll be amazed. I kept the skirt. Think of it as the start of a new generation. Maybe Kipp will want it later on down the line."
"I don't think so. He's very particular about his style." Russell stepped toward the door, "He's very particular about many things; he's almost at the age of ascension. And now he's a moody teenager; I forget how quickly Omeocoon children can age; he was four feet and some inches tall two years ago, and now he's had a final growth spurt in more places than one."
"Are you talking about the mouth?" Maxion asked; he sounded like he was on the verge of laughter as he was putting away his things; it seemed that the topic of conversation had turned toward Russell's only child, and thus, he'd forgotten about Tommy. "The mouth." Russell said, a sigh followed that, "I don't know what to do with him. I let him call me Dad, lived in my house, and raised him as my own. And he's developed this attitude."
"That's normal! All children have their phases; you had yours when you were in the tribe, and now, you've just grown out of it. He'll grow out of his; give him time."
Russell grunted, "But the attitude. I tried to ground him, and do you know what he said to me?" Russell smacked his lips and started on a tangent, "He said, 'You can't tell me what to do; you're old.' I'm not even that old!" That seemed to do it for Maxion, and he went into a laughing fit, which did not please Russell. "Kipp said this?"
"Yes, and then he went over to that ship, and I haven't seen him since. It's been like three days; I'm just going to give him some space. And when he realizes that I've got his favorite toolboxes and video games, he'll come to his senses."
"That's very wise." Maxion co-signed; he came close to Russell and kissed him again, "You're a good dad, Russell. Kipp will come around eventually. And hey, at least you've got your new outfit to distract you in the meantime." Russell chuckled, a faint smile playing on his lips despite his concerns about Kipp. "Thanks, Maxion. I appreciate the vote of confidence. And yeah, this new outfit is definitely... distracting."
Maxion grinned mischievously. "Well, why don't we make the most of it? You look absolutely irresistible in that uniform, Russell." Russell raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Oh, is that so? Well, who am I to argue with that?" He replied, leaning in to kiss Maxion once more. As they embraced, Russell couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for Maxion's presence in his life. Despite their challenges, having someone like Maxion by his side made everything a little bit easier. With a renewed determination to address the situation with Tommy, Russell decided it was time to go. "I'll see you later," Russell commented before he left the room. When Russell left, Maxion could no longer hold his composure; he exhaled a pained breath and attempted to maintain a composure. Medical was probably his next destination, but when he went in there, Cam was nowhere to be found... and he preferred an Omeocoon medical specialist, as capable of Narr as this endeavor was... private. Maxion was experiencing a very early onset of mucusus.
Omeocoon reproduced one of two ways, but both involved an onset of delirious and crazed behavior if the individual didn't know how to control themselves. But Maxion wanted to be with Russell in the second way, the new way, and unfortunately, reproduction in this way for an Omeocoon is complex to achieve; partners must be genetically compatible, and before then, an Omeocoon must be willing to remain merged with their partner for at least four days to ensure reproduction. Privacy is absolutely a necessity, which is why he wanted Cam. When they finally reach adulthood, an Omeocoon enters a state called "mucusus" once every three years, and it lasts for only three hours, so the partners must plan accordingly. Otherwise, they'd need to wait three years for the cycle to happen again. Omeocoons are only the most fertile in this state, and each cycle starts erratically from person to person. It represents the fusion and creation aspect of their reproductive period. An Omeocoon will know when their cycle has begun when a transparent pastel pink goo is secreted from the palms of their hands. When the mucusus cycle begins for one Omeocoon, the drive to be with another mate is uncontrollable, and they undergo a neurochemical imbalance that takes on the form of agitation or delirium. The mucusus gel serves as a signal and a pheromone to indicate their readiness for reproduction.
Maxion looked at his hands, and in the middle of the shaking, he saw that this was beginning to happen for him; his palms were secreting very minuscule but noticeable amounts of this goo; seeing Russell helped a little, but as he entered the further stages, it would be more problematic for him to see Russell, or even any other Omeocoon for that matter. He didn't want to miss his chance to create something new with Russell; that outfit wasn't a surprise. He took off in search of Cam.