Posts Tagged transformation

The confused thoughts of the human getting used to his new situation bounced around in my head as I went around the room, trying not to stumble as I got used to walking on four feet. 

Once I thought I had it down, I went back to my workbench, looking through the other potions I kept handy. 

What, this isn’t enough for you?  Toby thought. 

What point is there in ever stopping?  I grabbed a viscous pink potion from the shelf, unstoppered it, and drank it down. 

Gah, that tastes like rubber!  came Toby’s thought, after a few moments. 

So will we. 

The change started working from the inside out, the only initial signs being a feeling of extreme lightness—an effect of the dissolution of the fat and internal organs—then a feeling of flexibility as the same happened to the bones, and a feeling of weakness as the muscles, too, evaporate into thin air, leaving the body a hollow shell, though perhaps still a bit solid to the touch, due to being filled with air. 

Once all that prep work is out of the way, the visible changes begin—the potion starts working through the vacated hide and changing its substance, from ordinary flesh and fur into a specific rubberlatex designed for resilient springiness, sturdy unbreakability, and an appealing fresh scent, which took quite a lot of time to get just right. 

Ars est celare artem, though, and I could feel Toby’s thoughts, taking the workmanship for granted and entirely focusing on the sensation of being turned into the hindquarters of a balloonish tigertaur. 

When we left the restaurant it was still raining.  I didn’t have anything damageable on me, so I didn’t bother manifesting an umbrella. 

Blake was looking up into the downpour, looking even bigger than before—actually rounding out and looking chubbier by the moment. 

“Um, Blake?” 

“Hey marten,” he said. “ Want to do something impossible?”  He turned to me and grinned, though his face was already changing.  His muzzle lengthened, straightening out into a solid red beak, and he sat back on his haunches, hands on the ground and looking up at me as he continued to grow. 

When he was at eye level with me even in his crouched position, he stretched out, his arms growing into slender talons while his hindquarters took on a more feline appearance. 

“Stand back,” he said, in a strange rumbling voice and I jumped back as two frankly enormous red wings sprouted from his back fully-formed, and a flick of the tail seemed to complete the transformation, leaving it a leonine shape with a dark red tuft. 

I watched him make breakfast—he didn’t really need much in the way of help—and was absolutely at a loss for what to say.  Jay didn’t notice he’d nearly doubled in size. 

As he reached up to grab the flour, exposing the entire lower half of his belly, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, an attempt to orient myself: “Jay, do you have any clothes that fit?” 

He immediately turned bright red and pulled his shirt down. “ Zed!”  he said. “ I didn’t know I… just any old thing around the house… didn’t mean to bother you…”

I didn’t try to calm him down—that never worked.  And I could tell he was more embarrassed than hurt.  Still, he left the room, returning after a few moments in a much looser T-shirt, and went back to putting pancakes together. 

I tried not to ask any more questions.  Clearly this was normal for him; I’d only make myself look stupid or crazy by asking questions.  So I excused myself and went to looking through the apartment. 

And nothing had really changed.  Well—all right, he was definitely fatter in the couple of pictures he had of himself in his room—maybe a few extra snack wrappers by his bed?—but I guess having a 250-lb roommate doesn’t make things much different from having a 150-lb roommate. 

That, or I didn’t notice any other changes. 

That was kind of worrying.  He didn’t notice the change—maybe I only noticed the change I saw. 

And the queasy feeling in my stomach that followed on that thought was immediately replaced by quite the reverse kind of thrill as a new idea came into my head that I immediately kicked myself for. 

My body hit the wall with a hollow thunk.  The wind roared harder; I felt myself being pushed back farther, even though I’m sure I wasn’t moving anymore.  I couldn’t even shut my eyes to keep the wind out of them as the sun started coming up over the west side of town. 

That didn’t seem right at all.  I haven’t been out here all night already, have I? 

That didn’t seem right either. 

And then I saw a car driving down the street backwards.  And then more. 

And then crowds of people, all moving in reverse. 

I felt like I should be scared. 

I mean, I was—but the fear itself was a bit hollow, without my body pumping the chemicals in.  I knew I was scared, but I didn’t feel it. 

Jay stomped into my room, waving the morning paper, and started yelling at me. 

“Zed, why didn’t you proofread the ad before you sent it in?”  He threw it down on my desk and pointed to it. 

Now, I’d helped him out the other day—he’s a bit on the shy side and doesn’t like to go out, but I thought he needed to meet someone, so we put together a personal ad for him.  We’d managed to come up with:

GWM, 25, 150#, loves to cook,…

It went on a bit like that, but it really wasn’t very interesting.  You see why he’s single. 

Anyway, the ad his finger was on was clearly the same ad I’d submitted, only instead giving his weight as 250#. 

“Who’d answer an ad like that?  I’d be a blimp!” 

I was a little pudgier than Jay – kind of close to that number myself – but I didn’t answer that. ( He likes to cook – I like to eat.) 

“I’m sure someone wouldn’t mind,” I said. “ And if you do get a call, you can get them straightened out right away.  We’ll send in a correction after lunch—I’ll go by the paper myself.” 

Just then the phone rang.  Jay picked it up. 

“Hello? …  Yeah, I posted the ad … No, I’m not a ‘big boy’” – he started getting agitated again – “I weigh 150! …  Yeah, I know you can’t print lies in the paper … No, I don’t want to get bigger, perv … Listen, just …” He slammed the receiver down. 

I looked at him a bit surprised, which he misinterpreted. “ Why did I do that?”  he said. “ I shouldn’t be picky… with anyone who’d be interested in me despite my weight…”

From the moment he’d hung up, his body had changed.  The loose clothes he’d been wearing were filled out to a much more generous form.  He didn’t seem to notice the change at all. “ Dude, why am I even hanging out in here?  I’ve got breakfast to make.  Come down and help, would you?”