The "Best" RPG Ever-84

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---

Ian found herself back in her living room again, with Clera sitting across from her. She looked down, taking in her 'dream self' appearance once again. "..I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."
The winged girl tilted her head. "Do you not like it now?"

"No, no," Dr. Kellen shook her head, "it's not that." She looked down, running a hand through her hair. "Despite this representing a full adjustment of some kind, and the fact that I do feel more comfortable in 'our' body since this happened...some part of me is still expecting to wake up and find myself back how I was before any of this happened. The experience of such drastic change is simply..a kind of shock one never entirely recovers from, perhaps."

"I guess I don't really have the experience to know," Clera shrugged. "Having basically just swapped hair and feather colors, for the most part."

"Well, no matter." Ian looked up again, with a small smile. "The disorientation doesn't last long. Perhaps I'm just as much expecting to wake up with wings by this point."
"Plus, we didn't get 'extra' memories," the winged girl pointed out. "Maybe the gods or whoever's responsible for all this thought it'd get confusing with three identities floating around in here." She waved at the surroundings. "Plus, I guess they figured a mage and a doctor together would have the mental fortitude to handle what we've been saddled with, without that 'extra help'."
"Which we do," Ian nodded, agreeing.

Clera sighed. "So...do we tell them? I mean, do we point it out? Aloud?"
"I thought I was asking you that," Ian said, pointing.

"We're both conflicted. Just not with each other this time, I guess."
"Your opinion in detail?"
"Well—new memories means they all have a sense of it. It's not really..something you think about consciously all that often, though. Not until gray hairs and wrinkles start coming in, anyway."

Ian nodded. "It's much less complicated back on Earth: A single shared average lifespan. But no idea how long you really have until either it's too late to know, or someone pronounces a woefully short period remaining, panic afterward."
"You say that awfully calmly," Clera said, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't forget I've had to be the one pronouncing. I am..less than stellar at being warm and sympathetic, but remaining calm, clinical and professional can be just as helpful in some cases."

"Right. Anyway," Clera said. "I just don't think it's sunk in exactly that some of them are immortal, while others might have..less time to live than they did before."

Ian sighed. "I'd like to review the data aloud. I hope it won't irritate you significantly."
"Go right ahead."
She counted them off on a hand's fingers. "Humans: About the same, maybe slightly longer with magical help. Canis rarely live past seventy; Vulpin eighty or so. Felis a little longer than humans. Avians twice as long as humans, with half-avians more or less splitting the difference with the other race..."

Clera nodded. "And shifters and elves are immortal."
"Wait. If elves never become elderly, then why does Tsaron look so old?"
"For one thing, he's a psion," Clera said. "He can 'look' however he wants. Presumably he wants to seem ancient and wise, or maybe just unassuming and frail—and that means 'looking' old. For another, do you have any idea how rare true, pure-blooded elves are? Just a little of some mortal race in the ancestry, and they can start to show some age after a millennium or so. A majority of elf blood still keeps them from actually dying of old age, though."

"I don't understand the mechanism of the immortality in the first place," Ian said. "That is—of course magic is involved, but..."

Clera shrugged. "Some say the gods blessed a group of humans for some great act of service or something, and that's how we got elves. The gods can do whatever they want with mortality, pretty much."
"Do they say the same thing about shifters?"

"Mmn. Nobody really seems to know where they even came from. But they ultimately look how they want to look—how they think they 'should' look—and nobody really thinks they 'should' look old."

"Ah," Ian said, getting it. "So their own powers prevent them from suffering the physical symptoms of aging. Their powers are too slow and weak to treat sudden injury or the rapid assault of disease, but more than enough to prevent the comparitively slow damage from age."

Clera realized something. "Hang on. Aria probably doesn't know this at all. It'll be great news for her!"

"We couldn't very well tell her without her or someone else becoming curious and inquiring for the rest of the story, however," Ian said.
"True. Anyway, how're we supposed to even bring it up? See her at breakfast tomorrow morning, say 'congratulations! You're immortal." She leaned forward. "I dunno how anyone would take that, exactly..."

Ian sighed. "We have no extra memories. So no idea how old our body is."

"Yep. And, it'll be a while before we get a clue, too. Half-avians—human mix, like I am and we look to be—stay looking young until around eighty; full avians until a hundred fifty. I've always wondered why it's so long compared to other mortals."
"Perhaps it's simply the evolutionary shadow being pushed forward," Ian said. "Some magic may be involved as well, but..avians in general have difficulty with physical contact and intimacy, correct?"
Clera made a face. "Uhh.."

"Per..haps it would be more accurate to say they are extremely cautious and discerning. I bring it up since it could mean that early on, only those who remained viable after many years passed on their genes. This could have caused your race to go extinct, but the evoluntionary gamble evidently paid off."
"Or, I dunno, the gods knew we'd be that tough to keep around, and used magic to extend our lifespan so we wouldn't just die out after a couple generations," Clera said. "Anyway, we're getting off topic."

Ian nodded. "I fear I may be avoiding the subject due to the unpleasantness of the conversation it could foster."

"We must address this, however," she said, putting on a determined face. "It's important, especially if none of them have thought seriously about it before. How old do we think any of them are in the first place?"

"Well—Rayna and Lynn have been all over the world. They must be...in their mid or late twenties? Given the amount of youthful energy they still show. Katherine's story made her sound pretty young, maybe early twenties. Mira might be the youngest, but I think that much demon magic probably makes one immortal and we don't actually know anything about witches or warlocks from our research anyway. Zack's..uh..hm."
"What?"
"Well, a knight's training lasts pretty long," Clera said. "It sounded like he was fairly high-ranking in his order, too, which takes even longer. He's probably in his thirties, maybe even thirty-five or pushing forty? But he sure doesn't look like a thirty-plus-year-old Canis. Not a day over twenty-one, in my opinion."
"Zack's body was changed drastically by the curse," Ian pointed out. "All evidence suggests that said curse's target appearance is 'attractive female' and that would naturally include the appearance of youth. But..I can imagine no reason for a curse to actually improve one's health. With how reckless he always is...we should take a look at his overall health."

"I agree," Clera said. "Seems like Nora's been the only one healing his injuries thus far, so we haven't exactly had a close look at him ourselves."

"It's worth doing a general checkup on everyone," Ian said, thinking. "It would be much easier to introduce this...particular reality check inside of that context."

"Calm, clinical and professional, eh?" Clera said. "It wouldn't hurt to be a little warm, though, if we're going through with this. I might can help with that part." She held up an index finger, making a small candleflame just above it and grinning at her own visual pun. Ian crossed her arms and shook her head, not nearly as amused.

---

Mira came to the breakfast table with a small stack of envelopes and papers in her hand. "Great news, I found our mailbox!" She began shuffling through them. "Not that it was hard to find or anything, just right next to our front door in town. Anyway, looks like there's something for Kath, a few days' worth of newspapers, this one's for Zack...hmn." The last envelope was for Rose, with "Vaedin Fysel" listed as the sender. "Well, here's Rose's. If she doesn't come here I might need to make a trip out there to get it to her." She dumped the newspapers on an empty part of a counter, the dragon-addressed letter on top of them, and held out the other two envelopes vaguely in the direction of their intended recipients. Katherine waved to bring it to her psionically while she sat down; Zack just took his and tore it open still standing. After staring at it for two or three seconds, he tore the paper in half, crumpled it into a ball and threw it away in one swift motion before continuing on to the table.

"Whoa, what was it?" the witch said, following.
"Ad."

The catgirl opened hers a bit more carefully (without needing to touch it) and unfolded the single sheet of paper inside.
"An ad specifically for you?" Mira said. "You'd think we'd all be getting spam, or even like.. just collectively as an address."

The knight sighed. "One of the hairdressers from the other day says her friend designs outfits and wants a model."

"Yeah okay, your reaction makes way more sense from that."

Katherine's letter folded itself up and drifted over on top of the paper pile Mira had started, the envelope trashing itself just as gracefully. "Mine is from Jacob. He says the 'situation has changed' and now he wants to try and scan a live beast monster in the field."
"With some of us guarding him, I suppose?" Lynn asked. The psion nodded.
"I think me, Rayna, Zack would be perfect for this one. Ideally Rayna can just keep them from noticing us at all; if she doesn't then I can draw aggro or stun them to get away; and if that doesn't work Zack and the wolf can just kill them anyway."

"Seems smart," the fox-girl said. "So all we need is to find a place with beast-monsters for him to scan."

"We only thinned the numbers in that cave a couple of days ago," Lynn said. "I wouldn't be surprised if those cats were back. Or if they're not, they probably left some kind of trail at least."

"Just remember they can detect us by smell or hearing too," Zack said, "not just sight."
"I can mute sound just fine," Rayna said. "Scent's a newer skill, but I have learned it."

"Hmm.." A short way into breakfast, the fox-girl stared over at the stack of papers.
"What?" Aria asked.
"Seems like I don't have to actually read any of that to 'catalogue' it in a menu where I can read it later. Now I have a nice list of newspapers to browse, and..also the contents of the letter even though it was sealed. Not that I'm actually planning to read it, but apparently I could."

"Well, I guess you could cheat at card games, huh," Lynn said.

"It never even crossed my mind," Rayna insisted.

"Before we go anywhere, something important did occur to me last night," Clera said. "Despite having a power which makes it exceptionally easy to do so, I haven't done even a basic check-up on most of you. It would be wise to have some idea of the state of everyone's health, even as a mere point of reference for later."

"Well, that seems fair," Lynn said. "Doesn't seem like there's anything pressing for our time otherwise this morning."

"Just do the three of us first, if you don't mind," Katherine said. "It isn't urgent, sure, but there's no good reason to leave a quest waiting long."

"That is acceptable."

Clera chose the "meditation room" as a place to conduct examinations, with Rayna using her power to further mute the sound within beyond its existing acoustic damping in order to grant as much privacy as possible. Once the three with permanent animal ears were done, they could leave and the sound-damping would no longer be necessary, besides the fact that the mind-reader would also be gone at that point. Zack volunteered to go first; in neither world was he particularly eager to see a doctor (or healer) when there was nothing immediately wrong, but there was no good reason to object when it was free and didn't require going anywhere. He followed the winged girl inside and simply stood still as instructed while she placed a hand on his shoulder and it faintly glowed with magic. Her eyes were closed in concentration, and after a moment he perceived a slight squint to them.

"Something wrong?" he said after she let go, opened her eyes, and took a small step back.
"Yes, nothing." Clera blinked a couple of times, and then shook her head. "I mean—nothing is wrong, but I am seeing something expected."

"What's that?" Zack crossed his arms. "Something to do with the curse?"
"Possibly..? Although I can see no reason why a curse of all things would have this effect." In response to his further questioning look, she softly cleared her throat. "Zack, how old exactly are you?"

"Thirty two." Which was true of both worlds, actually. "Why?"
"Frankly, you..don't look thirty-two. Health-wise, I mean. In fact you don't look to me a day over twenty-one.

"Just in case my magic isn't picking something up: Have you felt any aches, pains, cramps? Other than..the usual?" she said obliquely. "I mean, are you ever sore from exertion?"

"..No." Zack shook his head. "Not once since coming here, now that you mention it." That sort of thing was unerringly common for him on Earth; he was aware of getting ever closer to the age where throwing out his back was a serious risk.
"Or—since you were cursed," she said, to clarify the issue, and he nodded thoughtfully. "I, had hypothesized that the curse might make you appear younger, but as I said, I cannot imagine why such a thing would actually improve your health.

"Although I'm certain you know this already, I, don't want to mince words here, Zack: Of all the races of this world, Canis typically live the shortest." He nodded; his memories from this world were well aware of this. It was also said that their kind tended to have large families, such as his own, for this very reason. "With the way a knight's work abuses the body, even if you survived every battle you entered I would not normally expect you to live past sixty. However..."

"My situation is far from normal," he said.
"Right. Well, I suppose this is good news. I'm merely uncertain what to make of it."

"It could just be an unintended side effect," Zack suggested. "The witch who did this to me wasn't in her right mind, and I wasn't exactly giving her space to concentrate on the specifics of her spell."

"Perhaps that could be it," she said. "I simply have a difficult time reconciling a curse with an objectively beneficial effect.

"Well, at any rate you seem quite healthy. So we should move on before the others become impatient."

Rayna went in next. After examining her, Clera took a little step back. "You seem perfectly healthy to me."
"Really? I thought I was a bit overweight," the fox-girl said.
"Not exactly. You are carrying a bit, but some people simply have different proportions. You should realize that if you feel unhealthy or, especially, low on strength or stamina, it is only in comparison to those of us in this house—all of which at a glance seem to be in some form of peak physical condition."

"I guess that makes sense," she nodded.
"Not that you—"
"I know, I know, not that I shouldn't exercise. I'm getting some today, trekking out to a cat cave. Is there anything else?"

"..How old are you, exactly?" the winged girl asked after only a brief hesitation.

"Uh..hmm." Rayna put a finger just under her lips and thought about it for a second. "Thirty on average?"
"I mean, how old is the body you are in right now."
"Oh! Twenty-seven," she nodded.

"You have spent your life traveling. Do you ever get leg aches? Cramps? Any...popping?"
"Uh..no. Why?"
"Hmn. You are aware of the life expectancy for your race, aren't you?"

"Sure..what about it?"

Clera hesitated a long moment, then shook her head. "It's probably nothing. But I would guess at your age you should be showing some small signs of aging, yet..I saw none. Perhaps you are simply a statistical outlier."
"Maybe. I am amazing in other ways," Rayna said teasingly. It didn't land, so she shrugged. "Through with me, then?" The doctor nodded.

After that was Katherine. Clera simply stepped forward and examined he with a hand on the shoulder like the others, and then pulled back to her original position. "No surprises here; you are not only healthy but in near-ideal physical condition for, say, a gymnast or runner."

"Good to hear!"
"...I should've done you first," the winged girl said with a small frown.
"What, because I know what you're thinking about? If you thought about it later, and I'm sure you would, then I'd still pick it up then. I know how to keep secrets," the psion said. "But—since we're in private anyway, I could help you hash it out a bit if you want?"

After a long pause, Clera sighed in resignation. "Perhaps you have some perspective on this that I am missing. I have been trying to convince myself that what I perceive is merely a coincidence, but..."

"Your instincts tell you otherwise?" Katherine said. "The 'first' coincidence already looked suspicious to you, and the 'second' one has no obvious cause to explain it like the first, not even a dubious one."

She nodded. "I imagine Lynn is of a similar age to Rayna, and in that case I would normally expect very slight signs of aging. But if I see nothing, then..."

"Should I remind you how we got here?" Katherine asked. "You're thinking about this as if we really were born on this world, instead of magic transforming us on the way over from Earth. Our running hypothesis is that we're here for some particular purpose, and that the gods are responsible. You don't think they could give us young, heatlhy bodies regardless of what our 'backstories' say?"
"I suppose so," the winged girl said, thinking of how elves were supposedly gifted immortality by the gods. "However, it seems to me that they went to great lengths for 'accuracy' otherwise, including leaving Zack cursed and Nora with a distinct speech impediment," Clera pointed out.
"Neither of those things influence how good we are in a fight. I don't think it's a stretch to think our purpose involves fighting specifically, either," the catgirl said. "And maybe they don't know exactly how far off it is, so—mortal races or no, they could've made us specifically to be immortals just in case. We already know of one immortal human, right?"

"True..however, I feel that is too much jumping to conclusions," she shook her head. "I am willing to accept that we were made abnormally healthy, at least, if the evidence continues to bear that out."

"Well, I don't need to tell you how long a lifespan you would normally expect," Clera said.

"True. I'm twenty-one, in case you're curious about that," Katherine said. "Here, I mean—back on Earth I was ten years older. You?"

The winged girl flinched slightly at being asked her age, but since the psion knew it by now anyway she answered aloud: "In my forties, thank you."
"Sorry," the catgirl said, folding her ears down in contrition. "I didn't realize I was overstepping until the word was halfway out."

"It's all right."

Mira was next, since she was eager to go looking for Rose to give her the letter. After looking her over, Clera said, "Well, as far as I can tell you are in perfect health."

She headtilted. "'As far as you can tell'?"

"Your tail is not like a beastfolk tail, nor do your wings have quite the same properties as mine. My magic can tell me whether you are injured, but I can only use it to probe for less immediate concerns in anatomy I have some familiarity with." She shrugged. "Your 'human' parts look quite well, so unless you are aware of anything out of the ordinary with the rest, I very much doubt there is any reason for concern."
"Ah. Alrighty then~."

"You're quite young, aren't you?"

"Hmn? Oh, yeah. I mean, I dunno exactly how old I am, orphanage and all. But twenty at most, I bet, now that I think of it." Mira said. "No wonder I've felt so full of energy since I got here, eh?"

"I..had assumed that was merely your personality," Clera admitted.

"Well, here it is," she said, bouncing around on her feet a bit. "I was a little calmer back on Earth. I mean—legal assistants aren't known for being unable to sit still, you know." To a brief look of surprise in response to that she said, "Oh right, you were in the kitchen when were talking about that stuff. But there you go, anyway."

After her came Nora. While checking on her, Clera said, "How well are you able to assess your own health?"

"Um..I-I can detect certain kinds of imbalances from, either i-injuries or diseases," she said, "mostly o-only things someone would notice on their own. I c-could detect more s-subtle problems with the right training, but i-it is much more difficult for a weaver than it is f-for most kinds of healers."
"I see." Withdrawing her hand, Clera said, "Well, you don't appear to have anything to worry about."
"Th-thank you," she nodded, and moved as if to leave before perceiving that she had more to say, and stopping herself.
"Is, something bothering you?" the winged girl asked.
"No. Um." The elf wrung her hands slightly. "Old h-habits. B-back on Earth I would see doctors really often when I was little. Usually, if there wasn't a-anything new to say they'd rather I hurry out to let the next person in than um, st-stand there wasting everyone's time."

"I hope they didn't put it that way," she said with a disapproving glare.
Nora shook her head. "D-don't worry, they were very nice. Th-there were just a lot of kids, is all. I g-guess it's more that I didn't want to be in anyone's way, and sometimes they thanked me for helping k-keep things going smoothly."

"Um. Was there something else?" she asked after a moment.
"This is somewhat of an odd question, but...are you aware that your kind is immortal?" she said.
Nora nodded. "I-I've been quite aware of it since picking up most of my memories from this world. It d-doesn't really even seem like a big deal, since um..it just f-feels like it's always been this way. I suppose it was a shock when I was in my early teens and s-someone explained to me that other people do grow old and die. Weavers in general can live as much as twice their race's usual age, because of 'Haestra's blessing' supposedly, b-but a Canis priest I knew had just died at the time."

"I see," Clera nodded.

There was very little of note about Lynn; she was in similar condition to Katherine, reported her age from this world as twenty-seven (equal to Rayna's) and was dismissed not long after. Aria came in last.

"Hold still."
"I know, I know." The shifter waited patiently until she took her hand off, and said, "Well? Head look okay?"
"It seems to have fully healed," Clera nodded. "As if it hadn't been injured in the first place. The healers knew what they were doing."
"What about you? Um, any lasting problems from taking it off of me?" she asked with a slightly concerned look. The winged girl shook her head.
"I never took enough at a time to even fall unconscious. I'm quite well, thank you."

They stood there in silence for several seconds or so. "..Yees?" the shifter prompted aftwerward, already tired of the quiet.
Clera cleared her throat. "I thought it might be good to, inform you of something I learned about your race," she said. "Since your 'amnesia' prevents you from knowing it already."
"Uh-huh. What is it, then?"
"Well—shifters are known to be immortal," she said finally. "In the sense of never showing the health detriments of aging."
"Oh, okay. Cool," she nodded. "..What?"

"You seem somewhat...underwhelmed."

"Well, you know, I already think of myself as a proper immortal anyway. Otherwise I wouldn't run headlong into danger all the time!" she said, pointing to herself with a thumb and giving a winning grin.

"Are you certain you didn't already know?" Clera asked.

"Eeeh, maybe somewhere in here," Aria said, tapping her head with an index finger. "Yeah, I guess you're right, it doesn't feel like a surprise even though I've never exactly thought about what sorta lifespans the fantasy folks in this world would have before now. Or maybe...huh. I should be more impressed, shouldn't I?" she said, crossing her arms and getting a thoughtful look.

"I would certainly think so." Shaking her head, the winged girl said, "Perhaps this is simply something that comes with 'being immortal'. A part of the magic, somehow..."
"You mean like, a feeling that it's 'normal' to live forever? But most people don't even think about how long they have left until you force them to anyway. Soo, it could be that immortals just never think about it at all since there's nothing there to think about. Aaand, I could still have that habit even if I don't remember why?"

"Possibly. Well, that is all I had to say," Clera said.

Not for one person, including herself, did she see the particular signs that registered to her as symptoms of aging. While it did give her a baseline to assess later injuries by, it almost seemed like a waste of time doing this otherwise. At least the part of her from Earth couldn't entirely get her head around the idea of immortality. It was in some ways the ultimate dream of medical science—to make humanity a race that at least only died of external factors such as violence, if at all. Yet..how was this world still populated similarly to Earth, if that was the case? Shouldn't races who remain young forever have naturally dominated long ago? There were probably factors she was missing to prevent that sort of thing...

Maid Masters

Yet another standalone story that was originally supposed to be a caption, but got too long. It's just slightly longer than that previous caption was, and I felt like that was pushing it. Ah well.

(See also: "Settling a Dispute".)

---

A certain djinn—a beautiful, immortal woman living in her own domain with practically the power of a god—slowly stood up, stretched, and sighed. Her former prison, the inside of a magic lamp of course, was now as a vast mansion, containing every pleasure she possibly could want, and few restrictions of any kind to the use of her power within. But she knew it was time, once again, to leave this place and make another installment of that wish. She wondered, briefly, whether her former master had been aware the wish would hold practically for all of time—but then, surely he had, given the way it had been phrased. Well, at least she could have a little fun with it now and then.

Once out in the real world again, she teleported herself to a random college and made her way to the dorms. Young men and women learning to live with a person besides their family, it seemed, was an endless source of petty conflicts to be resolved. Sure, her previous one had been rather...silly, but perhaps this time she would find a more interesting problem to correct. Walking invisibly down the hall of the freshman men's dorm, it did not take her very long to overhear some real yelling, and she quickly made herself intangible, floating partway through the wall to listen in.

"I am so sick and tired of picking up after you!" Randolph yelled. "I am not your maid, and I cannot tolerate your junk being all over the floor all the time!"

"W-well, I can't help it if you're so obsessive-compulsive you feel like you gotta pick up my stuff!" Kyle said back, not quite as loudly. He didn't really understand why this was happening. Randolph had seemed so calm and collected when they first met, and Kyle thought he was really cool, too..but no matter what he tried to befriend or make up with the guy, it only ever seemed to backfire. All he'd done just now was walk in and start putting down his things, and his roommate had suddenly started exploding at him!

"It's in my way! And another thing, you keep me up at night, and, and constantly distract me from my homework, with your loud music!"

"But, I put on headphones! Just like you asked!"

"Yeah, and I can still hear it clearly over on the other side of the room! I'm surprised you can even hear me right now!"

"I can't help it if you've got the hearing of a cat!" Kyle said.

They stood there for a moment, both catching their breath from the yelling. Randolph was still glaring up at him, and Kyle was glaring back, now. He knew he wasn't the absolute cleanest person, or the neatest or quietest or..okay, he knew he was sort of over-energetic and obnoxious even. But he'd tried, really, to keep his messes to his side of the room, and of the bathroom sink..everything! And he turned down the volume or even made efforts to physically restrain his movements every time something he was doing seemed to be bugging his roommate, too. As far as he was concerned, Randolph would just never be satisfied!

"I wish you did," Randolph said finally, "have the hearing of a cat. Then you'd know how loud and obnoxious everything you do really is!"

"Y-yeah, well I wish you really were my maid so you wouldn't complain about every little mess!" Kyle shot back. It was a weak, almost nonsensical retort, but the best he could come up with on such short notice.

The djinn watching from the walls took notice. Usually she liked to present herself to people, explain the purpose of her visit, get them to explain the problem and prepare them for her solution to it; after all, the gods didn't like it much when a free djinn like herself went around throwing their weight on (seemingly) arbitrary actions toward "innocent" people. But her long, pointed ears perked up at the mention of one wish, and then yet another; her kind had quite a lot of latitude when it came to granting those...no matter whether they were intentionally asked of her or simply said within earshot. Besides, she was pretty sure she had the conflict between these two plenty well understood without a direct inquiry. So...

Both young men in the room jumped at a sudden, sharp sound from the center of the room, like someone snapping their fingers. "What was that!?" Kyle said, looking frantically around.

"Uh, someone broke their bed upstairs?" Randolph guessed, looking upward. Therefore, it was his roommate who, looking at him, noticed the next strange thing.

"Hey, um..." he started, pointing slowly across the room. "You're...glowing..?" It was a sparkly, bright blue glow beginning to take shape all around Randolph's body, and when he looked to see his roommate's finger pointing his eyes widened, noticing an identical glow there.

"Wha—you too. What did—what is this?" he demanded, looking down to see his own glow while Kyle did much the same.

Their bodies simultaneously began to tingle, and then they both felt a squeezing, pushing sensation running over them. Kyle shuddered, holding his arms close to himself, while Randolph just quietly stared down at his arms, seeing the hair across them pulling itself inward, as if growing itself out in reverse. "Wh-wh-what's this, feeling..?" Kyle muttered, looking around and noticing the room starting to move upward, like he was in a tiny window-walled elevator and it had just begun going down. Yet his feet were still on the very same, unmoving floor.

"I'm.." Randolph started, having noticed the floor moving closer before turning his head upward toward his roommate. "You..we're shrinking!" he said finally, "Why are we shrinking?!"

"I dunno, maybe, something to do with the snap and the glow, and—aaah..!" Kyle shuddered once again at a sharp tingling all over his scalp; now that his body hair was gone his head-hair set to work rapidly growing out, its color suddenly fading away to a brilliant, snowy white. At the same time, his roommate felt the very same sensation, his hair whitening at the same rate yet growing a bit more slowly.

"Whaa—hair?" he said incredulously, raising a hand to pull some of it up to his eyes just in time to see the last of the color leave it. "..White?!"

Kyle was watching this, and noticed as the hair framed the other boy's face that it had changed: Not only had the hair vanished, leaving the skin looking soft and smooth, but its shape was changing along with the shrinking, becoming smaller, rounder... "H-hey, your face is.."

"What?" His hands both went up to run over his face—he found the skin soft and smooth...pleasant to touch, even. "What's happening to my face?" he demanded, looking up—and seeing a cute, girlish face framed in long white locks looking back. "H-huh..?" Kyle's eyes had turned from brown to bright blue, the very same shade as the strange, magical aura enveloping both of their bodies and seemingly responsible for the bizarre changes hitting them one after another.

"C-cute..!" Kyle said, watching Randolph's eye color shift from green to blue and perceiving an adorable, innocent expression (although the actual emotion behind it was much closer to confusion and shock) in the round, feminine visage before him.

"Cute!? W-what are you..aah..!" Randolph suddenly felt a sharp tingling, slipping sensation between his legs; his voice audibly rose in pitch during the resulting cry of surprise. "S-sa~aying..?" His voice cracked and rose a little higher in pitch mid-word.

At nearly the same time, Kyle had let out a surprised "Mnnh!" at an identical feeling. Now he looked down, away from his roommate's face, and noticed that both of their attires were undergoing an equally drastic transformation. Pants and shirt had merged together, colors fading to black as they turned all to soft cloth and spread out at the bottom into wide skirts, the whole assembly pulling suddenly close against their bodies and exposing a significant change to their shapes. Both boys had slim frames with narrow shoulders and increasingly slender arms and delicate hands. No sooner had the combined cloth on Kyle turned into some sort of dress than it began to sprout new decorations: Frills all down the shoulders, a white collar detaching itself to remain around his neck as the rest slid down to reveal a smooth neckline, a white apron popping out and tying itself around his waist, squeezing itself tight and drawing a high-pitched gasp from his throat.

Randolph's clothes fared no better—though the collar remained attached, gaining a bright blue ribbon tied around it with a big bow in the front instead, and his apron reached all the way up his torso instead of stopping short at the waist. "W-w-wha..my clo~othes..?" he was muttering, voice still cracking and changing, as all this happened, and he responded to the apron pulling tight with an only slightly deeper gasp than the other boy. The pulling cloth seemed to join the vague pushing sensation already running across their bodies in making their stomachs shrink inward, fully flattening them and lending then an inward curve on the sides, and at the same time there was a distinct push from their bottoms, out to either side and backwards, as if to directly compliment this.

"Aah..m-my ears feel funny," Kyle reported in a high soprano voice, reaching his hands up to feel them as they stretched out and up, tingling sharply as soft fuzz the same color as his now thigh-length hair spread across them.

"Mine too..?" Randolph said in a lower, alto tone, watching two fuzzy triangles push their way past his roommate's ears. His own hair now trailed just barely to his shoulders, but this was still plenty to lend him an extremely feminine look along with the dress he had on. "Wha..cat ears?!" he realized aloud.

"Kitty ears!" Kyle repeated back excitedly. They had stopped losing height now, leaving him a full foot and a half below his former self with Randolph just an inch or two shorter than that. "And—these outfits, look like a maid's!"

"Wh—seriously!?" Randolph looked down, tugging at the strange dress—but it seemed to be true. There was barely enough time to register this before that sensation between his legs reasserted itself.

"Aah...aa~aah..n-no, no way..!" He struggled vainly back and forth, trying to will his manhood to stop shrinking away.

"O-ooh..mnh, aah..!" Kyle's eyes closed, his ears lowering until they were horizontal, level with the top of his head, and his lips curling up in a smile as he simply gave in to the increasingly pleasant feeling. Then he let out a squeaky "Mroo~ow~!" as he felt a long, slim tail pushing itself steadily out from his lower back, through a previously unnoticed hole in the back of the dress.

"No n-naah, mrrraaahh~!" The feeling between Randolph's legs intensified as he sprouted his own tail, as did a sudden, irrational urge to make cat noises. He tried to resist both but failed utterly, ultimately resisting neither.

"Aah..! Aah—AAH, mrroow~..." Kyle mewed contentedly as he felt it melting away into womanhood, followed immediately by a new sensation of pleasure from down there. As her tail flicked back and forth rapidly, she felt a headband fixing itself to her hair just in front of the new gigantic fluffy ears, and knowledge flooding her head of how to be a maid—all kinds of cooking, cleaning, and other maidly tasks.

"Mrrnh..aah..." Randolph found himself at his body's mercy now, as he experienced his own change of sex. Then she let out a soft, helpless "Aaa~aahnn..!" at her own first taste of pleasure on this side of the fence. A headband tied itself atop her head, complete with a bright blue bow like that adorning her collar, as new knowledge also filled her mind.

At the same time as this, both new girls could feel their chests tingling, subtly at first and then steadily more and more intensely. A pair of panties pulled tight between each pair of legs, and their tops loosened, bras appearing beneath them, in preparation for the final piece of their bodily transformations. Kyle was the first to really begin growing, letting out a loud, feline "Rrraaeerrw~!" as her nipples pushed forward, raising up small bumps behind them; those bumps budded and quickly began to blossom out into a nice, big bosom. Randolph came not long after, and she responded to the feeling of newly sensitive skin rubbing against cloth and the resulting pleasantness between her legs with a deep, womanly purr. Her chest filled the small bra she'd started out with quickly, and then stretched and pushed it out to the next cup size as her little breasts continued to bloom and she continued to purr in response—then the next again, until she sported a pair of globes even slightly bigger than the other catgirl in the room had just attained.

"Mrrh..w-wha..?" Randolph's eyes fluttered open, and she saw that her roommate's were still closed, her cheeks alight with a bright blush matching the heat in her own. "What..h-happened...?"

The taller girl's eyes slowly opened too, and she grinned brightly. "Waah~, you're so cute, master!" she said.

"M-master? My name is Rana," she said matter-of-factly. "I-I mean..wait.."

"Heehee, your name changed too? Mine's Kyali!" she said cheerfully.

"N-no, but I'm..?"

"You seem super flustered, master. Why don't you get us some tea?" she asked cheerfully. The instant she recognized a command from the other catgirl, Rana felt a deep compulsion to fulfill it, and even to curtsy first.

"Yes, master," she said, and turned to move into the kitchen.

Wait—kitchen!? Since when did they have a kitchen...in their..dorm room? Rana was too focused on the task of pouring some tea for herself and her roommate at first to even take in the surroundings, but it became increasingly clear the two of them were in some sort of actual house somewhere, and..seemingly completely gone from their dorm. The more she thought of it, the more natural it seemed that Kyali was her master...but also that the reverse was true, too? That made..no..sense...

Kyali waited eagerly for the other girl to come back with tea, looking around the lavish living room they'd been transported to during the transformation. She didn't really understand what was happening, only...whatever had happened felt really good! Amazing, even! And her roommate—her master, too now—was sooo cute, she thought; it was awful to see that adorable face clouded with negative emotion. The command had left her lips before she'd really thought about its potential effects on...her fellow maid/master; indeed, before she'd even registered that unusual title for Rana.

The shorter catgirl returned with a tray, and set it on the coffee table next to Kyali before picking up her own cup and taking a small sip. "I...what happened to us?" she said. "It's like our wishes for each other..?"

"Oh, yeah! I hadn't thought of that. Hehehe, that's pretty funny.." the other girl giggled.

"I-I don't think it's very funny. Just really..weird.." Rana trailed off; now that she was looking in the other girl's eyes, she realized just how..cute she was. She'd never felt anything quite like what she did looking up at her new master's face, watching her long bangs flutter about slightly in response to the constant movement of her ears. The heat in her cheeks, not entirely gone, resurged ever so slightly in response to the sight.

"Waah~!" Suddenly Kyali ambushed her fellow maid with a hug, awkwardly squashing their big, soft breasts between each other. "That face you made is just too adorablllle~!" she cried out. In a masterwork of poise, Rana held the tea perfectly balanced and upright off to one side while returning the hug gently with her other arm. "Sheesh, master, you're so excitable," she muttered, despite enjoying the gesture immensely.

"I can't help it around you, master!" Rana replied, and punctuated this with a high, inquisitive mewing sound. Only slightly to her own surprise, Kyali responded to this with a brief, deep-throated purr, leaning slightly forward and beginning a brief, mutual nuzzling before pulling herself back out of the hug.

"S-seriously though," the shorter catgirl said, setting the tea down, "what..happened?" She looked around the living room, noticing for one thing that this place didn't seem to have any windows (neither had the kitchen), and for another that what she perceived to be the front door looked just like the interior of their dorm room's door—and it had a note taped to it now. "Huh..?" She walked up, feeling her hips sway, the maid uniform swish around across her legs, her tail swipe back and forth helping her balance—and her breasts, of course, gently bouncing in response to her movement—and rapidly growing not only used to it, but to enjoy it all—before stopping close enough to read it. Kyali followed along just behind/next to her, and leaned in slightly to get her own look at the note.

Wishes granted!

But seriously, I could tell all you two really needed was some "space", so I made some improvements to your dorm room as well as yourselves. This 'place' has all your old stuff in it, and it will occupy whatever you think of as your "home" from now on unless you want it not to. The sounds within cannot be heard by your neighbors. Oh, and you can order each other to change back and forth whenever you want, but the fur stays. Don't worry, nobody who'd be astonished by it can see it anyway.

Enjoy!

"The fur..stays..?" Kyali was muttering to herself while her roommate, already through reading, processed it all.

"Who..did all this?" she wondered aloud. "Hmm." Turning to her roommate/master, she said, "Hey. Turn back into Kyle."

"Huh? Wa~ah!" The catgirl cried out in surprise as her body began rapidly growing and changing, her recent transformation playing out in swift reverse—only her shortening hair remained that pure, snowy white, and her ears and tail stayed just as they were. "Aah, w-whooaaa!" he said, his blush not getting any better as his manhood returned. Then he blinked a couple of times—Rana noticed his eyes had retained their new color too—and looked around the room. "I, I'm...me again?" he said. "But I'm still..no, you're still my master, so...this is, confusing..." One of his ears bent to horizontal, his head tilting.

"Okay, now be a catgirl again," Rana said before he could further respond, prompting the rapid shrinking of her roommate back to the new form.

"Aa~aaa~aaahh..!" His voice audibly ran the full range from its original self to the high, squeaky soprano, and then her breasts bounded back out into view while she let out a surprised "Mrow!"

"U-uhm...sooo, we can turn each other back and forth?"

"Seems like it," Rana said, gently moving closer to the other girl and reaching her hands up to her ears. "I think I like you better like this, though," she said with a very slight, subtle grin. She began rubbing them, which caused the other girl to lean in, pulling into another hug—this time their breasts matched right up against each other—and loudly purr. The shorter maid purred back, nuzzling her and slipping her tail forward, curling it around her master's. Soon there were small, delicate fingers tracing across her own ears, and she lost herself to her body once again—only much more willingly this time—purring and nuzzling and holding her excitable master.

It was Kyali who finally found the presence of mind to pull her face away and de-escalate the gesture into a normal hug again. "Mnh, mrrow~..you're way cuter like that, too, master! I bet it's just so we can keep going to classes, or whatever..."

"Mow? Oh, y-yeah," Rana said, her brain catching up to what the other girl was saying. She slowly, reluctantly pulled herself out of the hug. "H-hey, the tea's getting cold. Do you want to have some?"

"Huh? Oh, sure! Let's!" She bounced over to the couch, Rana following her to obey the implied order, and they sat right next to each other to have some tea, tails still twisted together the entire time. As they leaned close, free arms already wound around each other's waists, and occasionally brushed their cheeks together, it became increasingly clear that maybe they didn't need all that much "space" after all...

Well, either way, the djinn decided that they had definitely made up by this point. With a satisfied nod to herself—and the feeling of the wish's time limit being refreshed now that another installment had been fulfilled—she returned to her own lamp, to enjoy the time until her next obligation. It was refreshing to grant a couple of wishes for once, she mused to herself; maybe it would be fun to go see whether anyone else was carelessly voicing wishes these days. But—perhaps a shower and some relaxation back in her lamp, first.

Battle Vixens! - 48

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Episode 48: Fighting Blame

Rowan found Light sitting with Simon in the room the latter had commandeered for taking pictures in-headquarters—the photography equipment a fixture there since then as the space hadn't exactly been needed for anything else. As soon as he walked in with Gemma and Amory behind him, she stood up. "You look a little better," he commented. "What did you need to tell me?"
"I took a nap while you were gone, and she visited me and told me—well, a lot," Light said. "In fact I'm—" her head darted from looking at Simon to Gemma, "—not really sure who should know how much of it."

"I see. Would the three of you mind waiting outside, then?" Simon looked like he wanted to complain, but complied anyway; Amory nodded and led Gemma out. Rowan quietly shut the doors and took out a notepad and pen from his pockets; in response to a questioning look he replied, "You said 'a lot', right? My memory isn't exactly perfect."
"..Okay." She took a deep breath. "So...I thought I could 'show' you since otherwise anyone with fox ears can overhear us." She waved at the black screen opposite the photographic flasher, making a paragraph's worth of words appeared on it:

She said there wouldn't be a monster attack tomorrow; I'm not sure who else knows that, it makes sense from what happened yesterday but I thought it might be important to know as soon as possible.

And it continued on like that. Rowan scribbled some notes down, taking all of it in before asking any questions.

Outside, Simon made a visible effort to distract himself by examining Gemma's 'combined' appearance a little more closely. "Uh..." She leaned away from him slightly, aware he didn't mean any harm but still not entirely comfortable.
"Sorry," he said, taking a small step back. "It's just that—if someone had asked me what a combination of your 'two' bodies would hypothetically look like yesterday, I probably would've sketched something just like that. Your height, hair length, hair shade, all halfway between. One eye color-slash-style from each 'self'. It's fascinating. Do you feel inclined to use one side of your body for Plus's powers and the other for Minus's?"

"Um..somewhat?" she said, realizing this herself. When she had learned Nico's powers and the time powers, her right hand had been used for the 'original' and her left for the 'opposite'. There was no compulsion to do so, but absent any reason to prefer one side or the other that was what she had naturally gone for.

"Oh! Are your powers averaged out, or totaled together? Do you feel stronger or faster or anything?"
"A little..I think?" There was no obvious difference, so she definitely wasn't as much as twice as strong as..whichever of her bodies was actually physically the weakest.

"Would you please stop interrogating her?" Amory said. "She's been through enough today."

The slightly angry expression seemed very strange on her present form, but Emma's heart skipped a beat or so at being defended by Amory.

"Sorry, I don't mean to make things more difficult," he said. "I'm just excited to see something new. Besides which—I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to take a couple of pictures to complete your portraits, but this is my own awful way of restraining myself from asking just now."

"And, you're trying not to think about what's being said in there," Emma said, pointing toward the door they'd been shooed out of.

"Indeed. Say, can you two hear anything? Maybe I ought to be Petra," he said, obviously ready to say his phrase.
"She's telling him everything using illusory letters," Amory said, crossing her arms, "For that exact reason."

"Ah." He took in a large breath, and exhaled. "You know, in this sort of situation I'd normally be inclined to walk away and distract myself with something else, but as I've been asked to give the three of you a ride, I can't exactly do that. I just don't cope well with doing nothing at all."

Emma could pick up Rowan saying he had a few questions..given an earlier reference to poor memory, he had probably taken notes, and was now writing the questions down also. "I think they're almost through, anyway," she said.

"Oh? Good then!"

They came out into the hall not long after. "Even assuming it's reliable, I'm not sure how immediately useful that information is," he commented. "Still, I'm glad you told me; there may be value I just don't see yet. I would trust Simon with what you told me—on the way back, if you like. And I'll relay what I can upstairs, too. Now, I need to go check on someone, quickly."

"Okay. I'll be in touch," Light said; he was already taking off at a brisk walk by this point.

"Wonder what he's in a hurry about.." Simon commented. "Well, the sooner I get you all home, the sooner I can get back to painting, so...back to the parking lot!"

Since his car was not exactly built for the privacy of its occupants, Light took a moment to make it appear as if he only had one passenger—a human, dark-haired version of herself. At some insistence from the others she actually took the front seat, and on the way began going through most of what the Giver had explained to him during the brief nap—aside from the part about being Beryl. On reflection, she had essentially offered to help her in some way if the secret was kept, so at least for now, Light wanted to test that offer. Once she finished going through the conversation for the second time since waking up, the car was silent for a couple of minutes.

"So she can't fight at all," Amory said. "I guess that explains the way I feel about it. And I can't shake the feeling I 'knew' it deep, down too—like when we were asking ourselves why she didn't fight in the first place, and I suggested it was because she couldn't but didn't know why I thought that. But I'm still not exactly sure how invincible I am, from just having 'part' of that kinda power..."

"I'm impressed, at least," Simon said. "She knows how to do PR. If you asked me before this, I would say she just wasn't interested in really helping us, and could easily crush the whole world with the power I felt from her that night I received my powers. But with how successful it was, I wonder why she would give it up so quickly..."

"What do you mean?" Light asked.
"Well—for as long as people believe she can kill people, that's a negotiation tactic. Maybe she could claim her gift gives her a direct line to end someone's life if they do something she really dislikes. We don't know how magic works, so there's no way we could dispute that claim until someone was brave enough to test it, right?"
"I don't really get the impression she cares enough about what we do to need to threaten anyone," Amory said. "I mean—she wants you guys to kill each other, or at least fight each other anyway..."

"She's made a game of it all, with rules," Simon replied. "Rules imply to me she does want things to proceed a certain way. So what's she do if someone finds a loophole and plays the game in an unintended way? The fact that we know she can't hurt anyone now gives us the ability to call her bluff if she makes that sort of threat."

"...My powers were peaceful too, at first," Emma said, her mind on an entirely different train of thought.

"How so?" Amory asked quietly.
"Um..when I first got them, I couldn't make any weapons. I didn't feel strong, or brave, or—like I could fight at all. But once I started learning other people's powers, it..I could. Not just, fighting off those mist things, but—think about hurting someone else. Killing them..." She was looking down at her own hands.

"That makes sense, I guess?" Amory said, not immediately noticing her expression. "Your power's based on your mind and learning, which isn't really a violent action or desire. But you 'learn' how to fight from other people's 'violent' desires..?"

"So, anytime I learn how someone else fights, I turn into more of a soldier," she said quietly. Looking at her through the mirror, Light could see a sorrowful expression on her face, her ears folded back and her head leaning steadily downward. "Nngh..I wish I'd never learned anything," she said quietly—seemingly to herself.

"Hey.." Amory reached a hand over to run gently through her hair. "It's not bad to learn how to defend yourself, or other people. Right? You've done nothing but good with what you learned, not counting one time you were just..stressed, and under a lot of pressure. And even then..."

She looked up again, at Amory, with a few tears coming down her cheeks. "Anything I know how to do can be used by those..monsters, though. Or, if someone kills me, then...it's all theirs. I should, I wanted to stop learning new things to limit how much of what I know can be misused, but I can't even stop learning things right!" The outburst had her leaning away from Amory, and she pulled her hand back to herself cautiously in response.

After a long moment of mutual silence in the car, she took a slightly shaky deep breath and sat up again, wiping her face with a sleeve. "Sorry, I-I didn't mean to make a scene. I just...I need to think about some things, on my own, for a while, when we get back."

"Okay. Take as long as you need," Amory said, putting a hand on her shoulder for a second or two and fixing her with a long, encouraging-yet-concerned look before nodding and letting go.

"Th-thanks.." Emma was blushing ever so slightly, but at least not crying anymore.

Simon cleared his throat after waiting what he probably felt was an appropriate amount of time for the awkwardness to clear out. "Sooo, you can make people's powers stronger by petting them?" he asked.

"Right. Apparently that's how she does it, too," Amory said. "I um, I made up the other-name 'Amp' for myself in case I need to look like this in front of people who..shouldn't know who I really am."
"Clever. I guess I can attribute any unexpected power jumps we've seen in your town to you? Like Dr. Quinn suddenly being able to fly around?"
"Pretty much. Well—mostly, anyway. Like she suggested, sometimes people seem to 'grow' or 'learn' new things all on their own too."

"I just wonder what incredible new things I'd be able to do, as Petra, if you did that for me," he said with a slight grin. "I can almost imagine a thing or two, but there's probably some earthy things I've never even thought of before."

"More than likely. Maybe after the puppeteer's dealt with, I could try to um..help out in your city a little bit," she said.

"Oh, and the power boost makes people look different?" Simon asked, touching on the one subject Light had really hoped wouldn't come up around him. "I did notice a few inconsistencies in the Quinns' appearances over the last few days..."
"Mm-hm," Amory admitted. "It uh..yeah. I mean, it's an extension of the idea that your powers transform your appearance in the first place, I guess."

"I just wonder what Rowan would look like 'boosted'," he said with a slight grin. "Or myself, or anyone else, really."
"You're thinking of re-taking everyone's pictures, huh," she said.
"More to paint! I can't help being excited about that."

---

Rowan quietly knocked on the door and waited. After waiting a few seconds and not hearing anything, he said quietly, "Don?"

"Go away!" Something—probably the nightstand lamp—audibly crashed into the other side of the door.

"I'm not doing that. Not until I know you're alright."

"Well, I ain't alright and I ain't gonna be! What're you gonna do about it, huh!?"

"I'd appreciate it if you'd talk to me," he said back, calmly. "You don't have to open the door if you don't want to."

"...Fine. What about?"

Instead of giving him an opportunity to answer that, she just continued: "How you're right and I'm wrong? How she could've still been alive—and awake now, if it wasn't for me? 'S that it?!"

"You know I wouldn't say anything like that," Rowan said gently, retaining his calm. Somehow, even in his 'unempowered' state, this was easier than he thought he remembered it being before. He slowly turned around and leaned his back against the door.

"Yeah, but you're thinkin' it! I'm thinkin' it! What I done was wrong. And stupid."

"I've read the autopsy report," he replied. "It's not likely she would've survived in that state for very long regardless."

"You don't know!" she screamed back. "I don't know! She just—looked bad, an' even if her arm was still there I still woulda done it, 'cause I thought she was as good as dead anyway! Someone with powers coulda'—coulda' kept her alive." Dawn's voice cracked and sounded weak, fading off. "Maybe the arm wouldn't come back, but..if it wasn't for me an' that stupid promise..."

"SHE'D BE ALIVE RIGHT NOW!!!"

This came at the loudest volume she could manage, and was accompanied by the audible smashing of furniture. It was followed by more, wordless yelling and continued destruction, until probably the only thing fully intact in there was the reinforced walls. Rowan crossed his arms, listening, and shaking his head quietly at a few people who showed up to investigate the noise. When it was quiet in there again—except for the slow, audible panting in exhaustion—he said, "Are you done?"
"How can you just—"
"May I talk now?" he pressed, talking half-over her.
"Fff. Sure. Whatever."

"You're right—we don't really know," he said. "We also couldn't know this solution, or any solution, would present itself, or when—until today, nothing we tried seemed to have much promise of working. You made a decision, and whether it was the right one or not, we have to live with it."

"I don't have to," she said quietly. "I don't deserve to be the one who survived! I oughta just change back and die slowly, like I was gonna before all this. It's what I deserve."

"I know you won't do that," Rowan said.

"Yeah? How?"
"You're carrying her powers. Now that you're in this situation—regardless of how you got here—how would she want you to use them?"
"I know that...but I ain't her. I ain't as strong. I..I dunno how to just keep goin'..."

"Well, what would she say if she saw you like this?" he asked.

"I know what. I'm stupid. But I can't..." Dawn's voice trailed off into a sniffling-gasp noise, and she didn't say anything else for a minute or so.

"You still there?"
"Of course."

"Why do you even bother with me? Nobody else puts up with this."

"Because I know you're a good person," Rowan said patiently. "You want to protect people, whether someone else told you to or not. If I see someone like you in pain, I want to help make it better. And, like it or not, you're important. We're the only ones right now standing between those monsters and the people of this city, of this world. Every one of us is needed for this fight, but you can't fulfill that role in the state you're in now. So—I must do everything I can to help you make your way out of it."

"Yeah, you just need me 'cause I'm useful, huh?" she said weakly.
"That's not really my point," Rowan said. "You know something?"
"What?"
"I'd like to say I would try to help you even if you were powerless, but with the position I'm in now I'd probably have to get someone else to do it. I'm glad you have powers because it gives me a good excuse.

"You've really been doing better lately—eating regularly, getting at least some sleep, actually talking to the therapist a little bit—don't worry, I don't know what about. I'm sorry this turn of events hit you so hard, but I couldn't exactly ask them not to wake those people up once it was clear it was possible."
"Yeah, I—I know that. I'm glad, they oughta be awake."

"It still hasn't been very long. I can understand if you haven't had time to move past it. Or—if you still don't even want to. But you've got to at least stop beating yourself up over it, alright? You're already taking responsibility for your actions, above and beyond the call in my opinion. Guilt-tripping yourself into throwing a tantrum won't help anyone. I'll bet you don't even feel any better after smashing that stuff."

"Nah.."

"But you do sound a little calmer, at least. Not planning to harm yourself, are you?"
"Wasn't really. Jus'—I talked about it 'cause I thought of it, but...I jus', don't think I can, really."

"Good."

Rowan stood upright again, turning to face the door. "You take as long as you need, watch your step on your way out of there, and ask someone to find you a new room to move into; I'll get the mess taken care of later. I have some details I need to report right now, but you can talk to me again any time you need to. Okay?"

"Sure."

"Thanks, I guess..."

"Any help I can be," Rowan said, and started off down the hallway.

---

Emma finally entered her apartment, having accepted Light's help to stay 'empowered' since she had once again left her glasses inside. After briefly listening to ensure that her roommate wasn't home, she opened the door, stepped inside and slowly closed it, leaning her back against it and slowly sinking down onto the floor, pulling her feet up to her with her knees right in front of her face, and took several slow, deep breaths, listening to the others' footsteps heading off toward their apartment until she couldn't hear them any more. Then she allowed herself a slow, quiet, whining groan.

She felt embarrassed, ashamed, stupid...she'd been trying so hard to keep it together on the way back so she could just have her dumb little breakdown in private, but the more she thought about how the new powers she'd just allowed herself to learn could be used by one of those things against..everyone...the more she couldn't take it, and something just broke. Amory—bless him, or, her, or..whatever, she was nowhere close to having the headspace free to unpack that mess—was only trying to help, but knowing she'd seen her like that only made her feel worse. Emma was just feeling sorry for herself again, for no good reason. It was—

A sound came from her throat, the kind of almost hiccup-like gasp that comes in the middle of the particularly debilitating flavor of crying. She hadn't realized she was doing that until now. No matter how much anyone else told her otherwise, she couldn't fight the thought that it was her fault that her powers had been used by that thing—that she'd even had powers it could use at all. If this happened again, it would be worse, and it would be even more her fault if time and—probably space powers were used to just tear everyone apart effortlessly. The nightmare she'd lived through, the stinging, intangible pain of being inside of that thing, seemed to recur just from thinking about it too hard—only instead of an unfocused mess of a thought she felt like she could see the specifics, exactly how everything was going to be ruined and it was going to be her fault.

Emma took a slow, deep breath, and pushed herself off of the floor, moving slowly to where her glasses were. Picking them up, she spoke her phrase to change back and wiped her eyes fruitlessly on a sleeve before putting them on. An idiot like her didn't deserve that kind of power. Or—more to the point—she would only ever be irresponsible with it. It seemed like the first thing she'd thought to do when she felt confident in a fight was to hurt someone, and now...well, without really meaning to she'd almost succeeded at that a second time. Her presence in a fight against one of those things put everyone in danger; maybe against just the puppets, too, if their owner could kill her and learn all of those powers at once, or even gain the ability to learn powers seen through those puppets! The logical decision—the only one, she thought for a moment, was to stop fighting. Tell Light to just take her powers and keep them, because she at least knew what to do with them. Her first instinct had been to help people, and she'd just never stopped.

She wound up in the same posture as before, only on the couch. If she stopped fighting...she was still putting people in danger. There were all those times she had been somewhere Light wasn't—couldn't be—and had helped at least a little bit, one way or another. She'd saved Amory's life once! And Dr. Quinn had been in trouble when she'd found him—her, under attack by the plant-puppet. Light using her powers wasn't as good as her using her powers, and the price was—or at least could be—somebody's life. She couldn't..not do anything when people's lives were on the line! But she couldn't..do anything, either, because the cost was even higher if she screwed up again—and just now she just knew she would, no question about it.

Emma jerked in place, hearing the turning of a key in the lock. She scrambled to get her legs out from in front of her, her feet properly on the floor, and leaned back on the couch like she had just been..relaxing there. She couldn't stand the idea of anyone, including Beryl, seeing her in such a pathetic state, even though it seemed to be her default mode. Unfortunately there just wasn't time to clean up her face or retreat into her room and hide; she'd barely assumed a relatively normal posture before her roommate barged in and cheerfully said, "I'm ho~ome!"

"Hey, Beryl...welcome back," Emma said quietly, waving in the direction of the door without looking that way. She sniffed in spite of herself, the tears properly stoppered for now but their aftereffects still going strong.

"Hi there!" Her roommate came around to right in front of her, leaning sideways to look her in the face despite Emma's best attempts to turn aside and not show it. "You look like a wreck. What's wrong?"
"No-nothing. I-I'm fine," she said.

"Heey, did that guy do something?" she said, crossing her arms. "I can give him a stern talking-to if you point me in the right direction!"

"No! He..he didn't do anything wrong! He's..fine, great," she said, trying to make her voice cheerful and convincing on this point. "It's um..s-something else. Bothering me."
"Well, what then?" Beryl sat down across from her, leaning in a bit and giving a concerned look. "You can tell me, right?"
"I'm..not really sure how to explain it without sounding crazy."

"Hmm. Well, I can take a little bit of insanity for you," she said back.

"Um.." As usual, she wasn't getting out of this conversation. Well, it was possible to describe her emotional state and the source of it without really going into specifics.

"You ever, take a step forward, and then another one, and more..only to, eventually realize that you haven't really moved at all? Everything's, just the same, or even worse, than it was when you first started?"

Beryl had a thoughtful look throughout the question, but quickly nodded when Emma was through. "Oh, countless times! I think that just means you're on a treadmill," she said. Emma thought for a second that she was making a joke—pretending to take it literally—but she continued: "In other words, if you weren't taking those steps forward, then instead of staying where you are you would've gone backward. Sometimes, right where you are is simply the best you can do."

"Hmnh." It didn't particularly feel like where she was all that great. "I really hope not..."

"Maybe you just think things are worse than they really are. Anything else you can tell me?"

Emma sighed, feeling a bit like a fish on a hook—or maybe just a worm. "Maybe this doesn't make any sense, but..what would you do if...you could do something. And, if you did it, it might be good...but you think something horrible might happen instead. Just...really, really bad. But if you do nothing instead...then things will almost definitely be bad...just not, as bad maybe."

"Hmm. Well, you know what I had to say about asking someone you've barely met out, right?" Beryl said. "I think that, no matter what, you should chase after what you want and try your very hardest to take it. If you're holding the reins then at least you can try to steer, but if you're not doing anything then you have no control at all. And yeah, maybe you'll regret the risks you take on the way, but you'll definitely regret it if you don't even try, right?"

"Hmmhhh..." It was hard to dispute that logic, but Emma still wasn't entirely convinced. Well—it wasn't like Beryl really knew what she was talking about; admitting that people's lives could be at stake was impossible.

"Awwh, you're not convinced? I'm sure you'll come around if you take a little more time to think about it," her roommate said. "Like—are you sure that really bad thing is as horrible as you think, or is that just how it looks right now? How likely is it to happen, really? Can you do something to prevent it? Stuff like that.

"Hey, are you hungry?" she added, sitting upright again while abruptly changing the subject.

"Um.." Emma had had nothing to eat since breakfast. Being violently upset at herself for the past several minutes hadn't exactly improved the state of her stomach, either. "A little.."
"I'll make you something tasty to cheer you up, then!" Beryl said, hopping to her feet. "I'll even clean up after myself just this once, alright?"

"Okay..." The reply seemingly went unheard, as her roommate was already in the kitchen starting to get things ready. Well...maybe she'd be able to think a little straighter on a full stomach, Emma thought...if she could keep anything down, at least.

---

"Uuugh." Finally back to being himself again, Blake stretched for a minute before flopping down onto the couch. Amory sat on the opposite side from him. "Missed all my classes today. I had some projects coming due, too. Maybe I can email them and pretend I threw up today," he mused to himself. "Almost did."

"You think Emma's okay?" Amory asked.
"I don't know!" Blake threw up his hands. "She wanted to be left alone, so we left her alone. She's alive, and awake and—whatever." He gave a voiced sigh. "She's, probably not okay. She practically had a nervous breakdown on the way here! But I don't know, what else to do, if she just wants to be left alone."
"Sorry, I didn't mean in that way."
"Then how did you mean it?" he snapped.

Amory responded to this with a concerned look. "Uugh," Blake groaned. "I know, you're just concerned about her. Me too. Maybe worse. It's my fault she had to go through all that."
"How so?"
"I was there," he said, emphatically waving his hands forward. "I even noticed the puppets were leading the monster our way. I could've done, something to stop it!"

"Yeah, like what?"
"I—I don't know." Blake shook his head. "Something," he repeated unhelpfully.

"You do read a lot of comics, right?"

"Huh?" The change of subject confused his tired mind for a long moment; one could almost imagine him asking what is 'comics'? before his brain woke itself up again. "Oh, yeah. So?"

"Isn't 'you can't save everyone' like a major thing every superhero has to learn sooner or later? I mean, no matter how powerful you are, you just can't be everywhere doing everything at once. Sometimes not everything that has to happen to protect someone is within your control, y'know."

"I know that, it's just. It's a feeling, I guess," Blake said. "I feel like I wasn't good enough, so it's my fault. And it won't go away. So the more I see she's traumatized by, whatever it is you feel when you're in one of those things, the worse I think my failure is."

"Well, I don't really know what to say, then. It's not your fault, it's the puppeteer's," Amory said. "Or the mist monster. You know, the ones who were literally responsible for it all? You can't watch a car crash from the sidewalk and then get mad at yourself for not hitting the brakes fast enough."

"Maybe it's more magic stuff. Negative emotions to fuel me, and the part where it's supposed to wear off is broken..."
"Well—I know you just changed back, but we do have at least one way to arbitrarily improve your emotional state," Amory obliquely half-offered.
"Yeah, yeah..oh, right." Blake sat up slightly. "Actually, I thought of a couple things we should test out. Could you change for me, stand up?"
"Um—sure."

In a moment Amp was standing there again, and Blake stood up, moving just in front her. He carefully raised a foot and drew it back as if to kick her in the shins. He didn't feel—right—about doing it, but pushing back against that was enough; he still felt able to.
"Uh..?" She gave his foot a concerned look until he put it down again.
"Hmm." Blake reluctantly changed back into a superpowered fox-girl, and tried the same thing again. The results were identical to the dream.

"..Hold still. You said you thought you were 'magic immune', right?"

"Maybe, but it didn't seem smart to test how much..."
Light tried making a sunlight-level strobe in her eyes; she just tilted her head slightly, seeming to perceive the light but not the harshness of it. She tried actually making a laser to hit her in the wrist, which she raised to her head to watch with an expression of mild concern but didn't react in a manner resembling pain no matter how focused (therefore hot) Light tried to make it. After that, Light took a deep breath and let it out again.

"I can't hurt you when I'm like this—using her power. My magic can't hurt you, and..." Light made her sword appear, and moved it around in the air slightly. "..nope. I can't do anything to attack you. But when I was 'human', I did feel able to do it." She dismissed the sword again. "Just...wrong, somehow, like I really shouldn't. I mean—I dunno how to describe it exactly, a deeper sense of it being wrong than just that you're my friend and I don't actually wanna hit you in the first place."

Amp crossed her arms, thinking. "Sooo...I'm totally safe around vixens, and monsters. But humans can hurt me if they really want to."
"I think that's right," Light nodded. "Oh, there was one other thing she said...talking about her 'nature'..."

Amp watched quietly while she closed her eyes, thinking back to the dream and concentrating. "Oh...right. Yeah. Hey, try to slap me," she said.
Her head tilted further than before. "Uh—what?"

"Yeah. Like, if I was doing something really stupid, or acting crazy, and you wanted to hit some sense into me. Can you do that?"
"Oo..kaay..?" Slowly, Amp raised her hand, drew it back, and was able to make it hit Light square in the cheek, with just enough force to flinch her head to the side slightly. She winced and audibly gasped from the blow, not especially in pain, but—something else. Amp was able to feel it too, once she looked for it—the slap had done the opposite of her power's usual effect.

Light waved her right hand a bit. "No, yep. You, cut off my power with that," she reported. "Feels like it's coming back slowly, though." She held her hand palm-up at this point and was able to make a very faint orb of light appear over it. "Yeah.."

Amp was looking at her own hand, the one that had done the slapping. "I almost forgot..."

"Hmn?"
"She said, 'I give you the ability to reward or punish those who I've blessed as you see fit.' I never even thought about how the 'punish' part worked. So, I guess this is it?"

"Must be," Light nodded, "part of it at least. I had a hunch she mentioned slapping for some specific reason..."
"Hey," Amp gave an uncharacteristically mischievous grin. "What do you think would happen if I did that to a puppet?"

"Uh..hm. Well, it felt like my power was totally cut off for just a second. The puppet is nothing but an expression of a power, so..."
Amp put her hands together, her tail wagging back and forth eagerly like a puppy's. "Instant dust!"
Light sighed. "Yeah, but we can't really use it safely, knowing that you could be hurt—so, kidnapped—by someone who's human. Maybe she's permanent vixen right now, but she might have at least a few humans working for her, not to mention anyone else who might get the bright idea. You and your powers should still stay a secret."
"I agree," she said, nodding. "But it's a nice thought."

Then she smiled innocently up at the other vixen. "Well, since we're already girls again—you want some help relaxing?"
Light's ears folded back briefly, then upright again. "I guess...yeah," she sighed, limply moving back to sitting on the couch. "I should be able to deal with this myself, but.."
"Oh, hush with that." Amp gently knelt on the cushion next to her and leaned in, rubbing her ears. "I'm here to help you, so let me."

"Mrrh." The white-haired vixen leaned in quietly, letting her unwanted instincts take over yet again.