A Summoning: Part XVIII

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Part XVIII
~Devil~

“Daamoon!” Onida knocked on her...sister's door, and heard some canine whining from inside. “Come on, breakfast is gonna get cold. What's wrong?”

“Mnh didn't sleep any,” the werewolf girl said weakly from inside. “Couldn't figure out the hint thingy. Wann' sleep.”

She sighed. “Look, I've only got a few hours before I need to be at work, and we need to buy at least some underwear that fits you. Just—get up, eat breakfast and try on some clothes, then I'll drop you off here and you can sleep as long as you want until I get back. Okay?”

“Mrrf...okay.”

Damon was visibly sleepy all through breakfast, rubbing her eyes and yawning several times throughout. Her sister wondered whether coffee was poisonous to werewolves before imagining the often almost hyperactive girl hopped up on a ton of caffeine and deciding that this was much the better option. Anyway, if she was still in this state at the store, she probably wouldn't want to spend energy or possible sleep-time on arguing or complaining about the necessary parts of getting feminine clothes. She might even be willing to try on whatever Onida threw at her.

...She realized after a moment that she was thinking about dressing up the wolf-girl, just a little bit. Even though she still wasn't really even used to the idea of her brother being a girl, she was really cute, and that small part of Onida that would've wanted to dress up a little sister now and then if she'd had one in the past was acting up. This was supposed to be a temporary state, they hoped, so why not give Damon a small taste of what it was like to be a girl, wear the clothes they wore?

...Well, at least she could find things more comfortable and fitting than the male-sized t-shirt awkwardly draped over her sister right now.

---

“..up, sleepyhead.”
“Mrrf?” Anika woke up to the feeling of a soft hand running through her hair from the bangs up to the top of her head. Her eyes opened slowly, her mind at the same time processing the physical sensation of the cute, dark-haired girl still fully entangled with her own curvy body. “W-wah!”

“Heheh. Take it easy there,” Steph said, grinning down at her. “Sorry to disturb you, but—I gotta catch up on some homework I didn't do last night, and youuu~, have a class this morning. Riiight?”
“Oh. Um. Y-yeah.”

They remained in place for an awkward moment. “So..kinda need your help pulling us apart here,” Steph prompted.

“Ah! R-right...” Anika blushed, her half-asleep, overwhelmed mind spinning back up to at least half functionality.

A bit of awkward motion later, they came apart and rolled onto their backs on opposite sides of the bed, Steph sitting herself up right away and offering the white-haired vixen a hand to help her get up, too. “..Thanks.” She took the hand, making her own way to her feet.

“You can take first shower,” Steph said with a small nod, “since you got somewhere to be.”

“Okay...” Still a little dazed, Anika went to get some clothes for the day and went into the bathroom, feeling a bit like she was floating. As she came fully awake, she found herself far better rested than she had been in weeks, and feeling a kind of permanent-feeling afterglow of happiness from what had happened the night before. As impossible and bizarre as it all was, it was somehow just what she'd needed, too...and it seemed like somehow Steph had known this.

Her roommate was back to the male form by the time she came out, back to just one tail out (the pink-with-white tip one, though) and dressed in the kimono from the Ruler of Foxes.

“Where'd that come from?” he said. “It looks lovely on you.”
“Uh, um..” Anika fidgeted her hands for a moment, flushing again from the compliment. “The Ruler sorta 'gifted' it to me...more like, turned some of my clothes into it. It's...r-really comfy, and easier to move around in than it looks,” she added, moving over to get her stuff for the day.

“I'd say I was jealous, but I'm concerned how she might react to that. Since she's almost certainly watching you, so—me too, by extension,” he said.

“Hey, d'you think your curse involves making you act more..feminine?” Steph asked after a moment.
“Uh..not that I know of. I mean—it's not in the stated terms from when it happened. Wait, have I been acting different?” she said, one ear tilting downward in concern.

“Little bit, yeah. I guess it could be hormones, or something? Or...hm. Do you think I act like a normal guy?” he said, pointing to himself.

“Well-sure, of course!” she nodded. “I mean—I'd be a lot less surprised last night if you didn't.”

“I think, I didn't do as convincing of a job when I first changed. But the longer I had this male form, the more I acted like I saw other guys as acting.” He shrugged. “Maybe...some kind of instinctive adaptation? Foxes are meant to have a natural talent for fitting in to whatever role they choose.”

“But I didn't choose this role!” Anika said, feeling somewhat mortified. “It's a curse!”

“Sorry..I didn't mean to make you worry,” he said, concerned. “If you're aware of it, maybe you can adjust accordingly.”
“Y-yeah.” She nodded. “Thanks.” After this, Anika fled the room.

Steph took a long, deep breath, and sighed. After last night went so well, why'd he have to say something like that? Maybe he was wrong about the Ruler blessing him; this entire situation had as much potential to torment him as it did his roommate. Maybe it'd be a whole century before Andrew could be male—could be Andrew again, and until then they'd both have to settle for just petting. Well, he was nothing if not patient, Steph decided. Be a man for four years? Fine. Wait a century for love? ...Also fine. It was only, what, twenty-five times as long?

He shook his head, dispelling the thoughts as best he could. Petting had been, and would be, wonderful, so much so that it felt like an insult to describe doing more of that as “settling”. And..he had other things to do today. Like pick up the phone and make a call to his magic-replenishment-potion supplier. It was almost time to buy some more anyway, he thought; ordinarily the current supply could last at least another month, but it was better to have more than enough than to run out.

---

Zotha awoke, teleported herself off of Jess and into a standing position, and stretched. “Aaa~ah.”
“Mrrh?” Her catgirl priestess's eyes fluttered open, quickly missing her goddess's presence.

“Morning, kitty-cat. You can take the bathroom first, if you want.”
“Ah. Um...something going on?” she asked, noticing Zotha's clothes were mid-morph as she sat up.

“Riana's trying something new with our 'prayer language': Asking me to meet with her. I'd hate to disappoint.” They ended up as a tight dark t-shirt with a red pentagram logo on it and a pair of short jean-shorts. “Be back soon~.” With that, Zotha shadow-ported over to Riana's apartment, appearing in the middle of the living room.

“It worked!” Riana, currently male, was standing a short way in front of her.

“Indeed. Good morning,” the goddess said.

“Your wings're different,” Kamari helpfully pointed out; she was standing to one side of her (presently) boyfriend in wolf-girl form.

“Mm-hm. And you're looking pretty tall and fit, yourself,” Zotha nodded. Then, back to Riana: “You wanted to talk about something?”

“Yes!” he said. “Can you cure terminal diseases?”
“I happened to do just that on Sunday, for the grandfather of one of our followers,” the goddess replied. “It doesn't seem to be too difficult to 'change' a sick person to a healthy one.”
“That's what I thought. So can we do—a lot of that, then?”
“Hmmn.”

Seeing exactly where this conversation was going by now, Zotha thought carefully about how to put her reply. “Okay, first of all—I'd like you to know that I do agree with you. Healing sick people, especially keeping them from dying, is a good thing to do, maybe even the right thing to do with the kind of power I, and by extension you all, have right now. Besides it being right, almost every healed person will be very grateful for it, so it even sounds strategically viable. However...

“There are lots of gods much bigger and stronger than I am, with a vested interest in keeping the veil intact. Ahh, do you know about the veil, actually?”

“You're talking about, whatever keeps normal humans from seeing the magic going on all around them, right?” Riana said.

“Yeah, pretty much. Anyway—it seems like basically all of the other gods want that to keep working. If we were to even, say, cure everyone at once in a single hospital, it would be nothing short of a miracle. Miracles like that get press—lots of it. I suspect, much more than the people whose job it is to help maintain the veil and help people who get brought out of it to adjust could handle. The other gods would find this very irritating, and based on the conversation I had with their messenger, through Anika, they're collectively on the fence about letting me stick around in the first place. I really do not want to bring any more of them to the wrong side of that fence; I have no idea how close I actually am to having more enemies than friends, or more powerful ones, for that matter.”

“So you're—” he started, a righteous anger evident in his voice and posture.

“Ahp!” she put up a hand to stop the rant before it could pick up steam. “Hold on, let me finish please before you get angry,” Zotha said. “Come on, you liked my idea for Cameron before, right?”
“Was that your idea, or Jess's?” he said, putting a hand on his hip in an expression of obvious skepticism.

“Noot really important right now. Anyway—as I was saying, the problem is that a sudden, big act is going to draw too much attention. But a lot of little miracles, maybe not. I healed that girl's grandfather, and I believe no press outlet even noticed. Sooo, if one or more of my followers were to occasionally go into a hospital, pick out people with terminal illnesses or such, and quietly 'pray' to me to use my power to help them, I would wholeheartedly approve. It's not perfect, but more people would be guaranteed to live that way, and if we are careful and subtle about it, the other gods might even let us get away with it. At the very least, it's a small enough thing that their response will probably be to send someone to tell me to stop first instead of going straight to the nuclear options. How's that?”

“It's...much better, I guess, than...nothing,” Riana said, some disappointment still evident in his voice.

Zotha exhaled audibly. “I know. I am sorry it can't be more right away, but if I play my cards well enough for long enough, I believe that I can hope to gain enough power and influence to be seen as someone who'll be sticking around for good. And then maybe we can see about making some more drastic changes to our world's healthcare system, hmn?”

“Yeah...you're right,” he nodded. “Sorry—I wasn't thinking entirely through the consequences. That's a much better plan, for now. It's just unfortunate that some people will die while we're waiting.”
“I agree,” Zotha nodded. “Believe me, it's equally disappointing to me to be a literal god but still be powerless to do some things. But this is why we also had to say no if someone wished for world peace on Sunday, you know?”

Riana nodded. “Well, you can expect some healing prayers from me today, at least,” he said.

“I'll be more than happy to grant them. See you two later.”

Zotha returned to her dorm after that to find Jess just getting out of the shower. She quickly, mentally communicated the content of the conversation.

“Aah! I hadn't even thought of something like that,” she said.

“Well, we've all had quite a lot to think about lately,” the goddess replied. “Anyway, we've got a plan in place now, so there's not too much to worry about.” She reached over and rubbed Jess's still-feline ears a bit, drawing a delighted purr from her little priestess.

“U-um, am I keeping these?” she asked when it was over, her tail twitching back and forth with curiosity.

“Hmm, maybe for today, I think,” Zotha said with a nod. “You do seem to like them, and if the goddess changes appearance periodically then her priestess can look a little different now and then too, right?”
“Mm-hm!”

---

Graham found driving to be a bit of a challenge. Even with her pickup's seat pulled all the way forward, she needed to sit halfway up the seat for everything to be in reach. For the first time in her entire life, she was seriously considering getting a smaller car, if only to make it easier to physically drive. Or—perhaps her new goddess could modify things here just a bit. Buying a new car was a lot more trouble than just asking for something, after all, and she still rather liked the pickup. On the other hand, it was a little surreal to have the option of asking someone to physically morph the interior of a car as the simpler alternative.

“Um...” Her granddaughter Rachel was in the passenger seat. She happened to not have any classes this morning, and was game to help pick out some new clothes. “Grandpa..”
“Yees, dear?”

“Should I...be calling you that? Orr, grandma? You don't really look like either one.”
“Heheh, I s'pose I don't. More like we're sisters or something,” the Neko agreed. “Well, if you can make it feel natural, you could just call me Graham. I'm used to that name.”

After some time getting fitted for underwear, they walked over to the store's feminine wear section, and Graham just grabbed up anything that looked interesting to try on. The first thing she came out with was a tight-fitting white blouse and a short, black skirt. “Well, what d'ya think?” she asked her granddaughter, brushing a hand down the top.

“Um..I really didn't expect you to go for skirts first,” Rachel admitted.
“You kiddin'? I've been curious how it felt to wear this stuff for years. Just, you know, wouldn't be proper to even try 'em on as a man.”
“Well uh—it certainly fits. The colors look good on you, and all,” she said.

“Thank ya. I'll certainly keep these, then.”

The catgirl's ears twitched a bit as she changed into her next outfit, overhearing a conversation nearby. First a girl said: “Rrf..this is too tight.” Weird barking noise at the start of her speech?

“It just fits you. It's not any tighter than what you came in wearing the other night,” another, older-sounding woman said.

“Yeah, but the stuff I came in with today is comfier.”

The older voice sighed. “Okay, Damon, we'll go a size up then. While I look for that, you try these on.” Odd name for a girl...not that Graham was one to talk.

The younger voice made a clear—very canine—whine, but then said, “Okay, sis.”

At this point her curiosity got the best of her, and—finished changing anyway—Graham poked her head slightly out of the changing room door to see what they looked like. She could only see the older sibling from the back, but the younger one was headed toward her, and she was cute. Long, brown tresses, pinkish-red eyes, a bit taller than Graham was but still fairly short overall. Her present outfit wasn't very different from what the catgirl was trying on, a tight t-shirt and a pair of shorts that barely came down to the thighs, so they did little to hide her slim figure. And she had tall, fuzzy ears and a tail—a very canine looking tail, in fact—which together only seemed to enhance her overall adorableness. For as much as she caught the catgirl's eye, she might as well have been sparkling.

The Neko realized she'd stared for a bit long and drew herself back behind the door before she was noticed, a small, high gasp coming into her lips. “Fffh.” She listened for the door next to hers to open and shut before leaving, which also gave her time to realize her heart was racing and will it to quiet down a little bit. Then she strode back out to her granddaughter, putting on as calm an attitude as possible. Her tail betrayed her a bit with some violent twitching well beyond its usual, calmer motion.

Thankfully, Rachel didn't appear to notice that. “How 'bout this one?”

“It looks really good on you,” she nodded in approval. “Honestly, if you like what you see in the mirror, that's the important thing.”
“Sure, but if we go out to eat sometime I'd hate to embarrass ya,” Graham said. She leaned in slightly, and half-whispered: “Hey, d'you know any girls who go to your school by the name of Damon?”
“Um...noo? Gram—Graham, there's lots more people who go there than I've ever met. Why?”
“Just overheard somethin' a little odd, is all,” she said, straightening up and pointing a finger at one of her ears. “I probably oughtn't pry anyhow. Maybe that's the first lesson about havin' ears that can hear through walls.”

“I'll, um, keep that in mind...” Oh, right; she'd been promised an opportunity to become a Neko, too. Which meant...

“Say, did Zotha mention when she wanted to meet with ya again?”
“Uhm, no, but, I have her number,” Rachel said. “She just said to wait 'one day', so I thought I'd send a text or something with my decision when it's, about the time she came to our house yesterday. Why?”
“Ehh, just thought of a couple'a things I may wanna ask her about,” Graham said. “Nothin' major enough enough to warrant a whole visit, but if I can be there when she is...”
“Sure. I can, mention that to her,” Rachel said, nodding.
“Right! I'll go change into somethin' else, then. Maybe I'll impress you, yet,” the Neko said, whirling to head back to the changing room.

---

When Thomas's alarm went off, her left hand reached for the nightstand and swatted against a wall a couple of times. This began a moment of brief but extreme confusion, the events of the previous night taking a moment to settle back into her conscious mind. “Rrrgh—raah!” This coincided with some struggling and animal-like growling noises, and ended with her bursting violently up out of the pile of gold and blankets, scattering some of its contents all across the room.

She stood up, rubbing her eyes for a second. “..Oh. Whoops.” Taking a deep breath, she stepped carefully over the remaining pile in the corner to go turn off the alarm on her phone. After that she sent a few texts out Zeke—rather, Zotha's way:

Thanks for insisting.

I have never before wanted precious metals.

Much less literally needed them to sleep.

The reply to this was just a thumbs-up emoji.

After a shower—which gave ample opportunity to be simultaneously proud of and embarrassed at the female form she now had—the dragon-girl opened her fridge and leaned in slightly, sniffing at the contents. It was easy enough to tell that she was more of a carnivore than before, and the way her brain registered the smell of vegetables emphasized this fact. Keeping a balanced diet that lacked those was going to be..interesting, she thought, but for now there was meat that would work for breakfast.

There was enough space in the kitchen to spread her wings out once she was seated. It didn't hurt to keep them “compressed” for any length of time, but having them out did feel...comfortable and natural, in a way. Eyeing them a couple of times, she wondered if this body really could fly, or if it was too heavy. Maybe weight didn't matter as much as physics would say it should for some magic-related reason; after all, if she had a gigantic dragon form, that would almost certainly be too heavy to fly with just wings, yet every indication was that real dragons did fly—or were at least capable of doing so. There had to be somewhere to try it out with minimal witnesses...maybe those woods the shack was in? It was still near a city, but after sunset she may be able to get away with it.

The first thing to do this morning was to drive out to the place on the card Zotha had given her. When they were through with her, hopefully there would still be time before lunch to go hit the gym. She felt very strong, like a kind of semi-passive restraint was needed to not break things by carelessly swatting at them. It'd be nice to test the limits of that strength with some weights rather than destruction.

---

Onida really shouldn't have been surprised, she decided. Wanting to be comfortable in her clothes above all else was a very “Damon” way of thinking about them. They left the store with her wearing a loose hoodie over a slightly oversized t-shirt and cloth shorts, and that sort of outfit seemed to appeal to her the most in general if her original, “male” clothes were forbidden. Well, at least she'd gotten her to try on a few skirts and dresses, and she seemed perfectly oblivious to her sister buying those. It hadn't taken too long, either. They were on schedule to get back to the house with an hour or so to spare.

When she did pull up near their house's driveway, there was another car parked out next to the nearby sidewalk, a man she thought looked slightly familiar most of the way through a walk to its driver-side door until he turned, noticing the approaching car. He was very tall, kind of gaunt, with very dark, almost pitch-black hair that came down to his shoulders and seemed to threaten to merge with his chinstrap beard, and he was wearing a long hoodie and baggy jeans that obscured much of his body. Damon was leaning over staring at him too, she realized while she parked and took the key out of the ignition.

The semi-stranger walked their way as she came out of the car, stopping a respectable few yards away. “Heey,” he said semi-hoarsely, waving; this appeared to set Damon off barking, climbing over to the driver-side door to get out in that direction quicker.
“Damon!” Onida turned, glaring, as her sister came out of the car; the werewolf seemed to snap out of the barking fit and slunk back into the driver's seat, whining in contrition.

“Uh, sorry about that,” the main said, putting a hand behind his head. “..Hey.”

“Hello. Who are you?” she said, crossing her arms—still a little suspicious of his overall appearance.

“Oh, sorry. Sam,” he said. “We, ah, met last year at a, convention. You'rrrre Onida, right?”
“Yeah..” There was only one convention he could be talking about, an event full of streamers she'd brought Damon to and come in with him on his insistence. But she wasn't recognizing him from the blur of introductions that day; rather, she realized, this had been among the pictures she'd shown the werewolf girl of her streamer friends. This was..“incupokal22” or something like that.

“I guess we have met. I don't recall giving you my address, though.”

“Um..I shipped some games out to Damon a couple a' times,” he said. “Really, sorry for the intrusion. But ah...” He waved his hand vaguely at Onida's sibling, who had finally climbed herself back out of the car and made her way to exactly up against her sister's side, now leaning slightly forward and sniffing the air in Sam's general direction. “How do I put this? Your brother's..”
“That's him. Or—her, whatever,” she said. “It's a long story, but she's not exactly in the best shape for visitors right now.”

“Okaaay, yeah. Let me..” Sam took a second to reach up and pull his hood off, revealing two big, fuzzy ears that had been folded down under it—and flipped themselves upright the instant they were unrestrained. “D'you see anything weird?”
“You mean your ears?” Onida deadpanned. “I do see those.”
“Yes! Right. Okay, good. Aaaand, Damon was bit, and the long story is from there to..thaat.” he said, waving slightly toward her. “Right?”

“Yeah.” Onida sighed; it didn't seem likely she'd get any of that extra hour to herself. “Maybe you should come in.”