Costume Trick

Happy Halloween!

I had the idea for this caption at about the same time as Starry Treat. They're sort of related, in that they both spin off of previous Halloween stories (which I added a tag for, as they seem to have developed into their own little series of sorts).

Once again, this one's quite long (I think it's even a little longer than Starry Treats, actually), so there's a "story format" version below:

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Even before his graduation, Ferris knew exactly who he wanted to work with through grad school. Dr. Wright was his hero in a few different ways: The best theoretical physicist he knew of, an amazing teacher with an impressive enthusiasm for his material, and an all-around great person as far as he could tell. Fortunately, Ferris was no slouch as a student either, and his undergraduate research was good enough to catch Dr. Wright's attention. After Ferris went through most steps of the process of applying for grad school, he made an appointment to speak to the professor; not only did he agree to take him on as an advisor, but he was more than encouraging about Ferris's pursuit of higher education.

Fast forward some two and a half years later, and things were still going pretty well. November was a little odd; Dr. Wright took some months off and only communicated by email. But he'd left more than enough for Ferris to work on, and that communication was still prompt and helpful, so he didn't have too many complaints. There were some wild rumors floating around campus that something crazy had happened to the professor at a Halloween party, but...ever since the veil lifted and everyone knew about magic, wild rumors were rather common. It was just that, at the same time, they were also true more often than before.

Nonetheless, the following March, Dr. Cassius Wright returned to work with no obvious change. Well—he seemed happier and more enthusiastic than before, if it was possible, and had even more ideas that meant more work for his grad students—Ferris included—but that could be chalked up to a successful vacation (or whatever it was he'd left for). It was in late August that Ferris finally became a little suspicious, when a newly famous magician whose most recent act in late February had ended with her disappearing and then seemingly vanishing from the face of the Earth afterward—started doing shows sporadically at the campus theater. Her name was Cassilda, and...while it could just be a coincidence, there were a lot of dates that seemed to match. Anyway, nothing Ferris could find said what her last name was, which wasn't inconceivable for a stage name, but seemed to line up with everything else, too. That was why he decided to buy a ticket and go to her third show, in mid-September.

Besides the fact that he didn't usually have the time or money for this sort of thing, magic shows and stage performance in general weren't really Ferris's kind of thing. Still, Cassilda and her weird, two-tailed catgirl assistant put on a pretty impressive show for just a bunch of students. More importantly, though, the way she talked, and the enthusiasm with which she talked through each trick, was all incredibly familiar.

He still couldn't be certain. Of course, a scientific mind needed more than one point of data; preferably several. After all, it was a little absurd to think that a physics professor with a doctorate and tenure was also a famous magician capable of actual magic; anyone who had either of those jobs surely had no monetary need for the other. How would he have even learned so much magic so quickly? Ferris determined that this was his reason for buying a ticket to the next show, in early October, on his way out. After that he returned to burying himself in his work for the rest of the month like he usually did.

The first show, he'd sat in the very back to observe everything undisturbed; most of the crowd clumped toward the front, eager to volunteer for a trick or two. This time, Ferris decided to sit closer to the middle and try once or twice to volunteer himself to see whether she'd react to seeing him. The test would be inconclusive if she acted the way she did around every other volunteer, since maybe that was just professionalism and good acting, but if she hesitated or paused or something then he'd know she at least recognized him. Eventually she did pick him out of the crowd for a card trick. At first he was convinced this was one of her 'not magic magic' tricks, since it seemed to be the sort of thing that arose naturally but surprisingly from rearranging the cards a certain way, but at the last moment she did either some sleight of hand or real magic to give the trick a new twist that mathematics alone couldn't easily explain. At least..Ferris was pretty sure it couldn't. Either way, her reactions seemed more or less normal, so the test was a bust. Still..it was a little fun being a part of the show, he supposed.

Walking back to his apartment, Ferris realized there was one other thing he could do. Thinking through the steps of the trick, he wrote an email to his advisor. Essentially, "I was at a magic show tonight and I think they did some kind of card-counting trick." Then some of the details of how the trick had been set up and a question of whether he'd missed something in the setup. It wasn't too unusual for Dr. Wright's students to ask him questions like this: Not directly related to their research, but still regarding something he might know that they could learn from. The reply the next morning was just that he'd have to think about it and they'd talk at their next biweekly meeting; fairly standard overall.

Ferris came to that meeting, and Dr. Wright walked him through the steps, pointing out something simple the magician could probably do while the audience was briefly distracted to change the outcome to what he'd seen that night. Then he turned from the whiteboard to face his student and shrugged. "Anyway, this is fun and all, but I'd hate for it to start really distracting you from your work. So, I guess you've got me."

"Wait." Ferris's mind, still busy processing the last couple of steps of the explanation, took a second to catch up. "You're really...?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Cassilda, just so I'm not carrying a misunderstanding forward more than necessary. To give you some better evidence:" He swept his arms upward, and a kind of spiraling, sparkly lightshow whirled around him briefly, changing his body to that of the magician and his clothes to some female equivalents that fit the drastically different form. "See?"

The grad student leaned forward, adjusting his glasses and staring. "How did you do that?"

"Would it be too unfair to say 'magic'?" she said, putting her arms up helplessly. "It's a long story, but last Halloween—let's say I went looking for an adventure, and found one. I took some time off to think about what I wanted to do, and concluded that I wasn't done here. There's important work to do, and people—such as yourself—relying on me. Still, I enjoyed doing the shows quite a bit, and couldn't quit forever. Even though they're a lot of work, it's..mentally relaxing in its own sort of way to work on something besides research for a bit. I thought a few low-key performances here on campus would be a nice warm-up. Though, I never really intended this 'secret identity' business, either. It just sort of happened, and I leaned into it since magicians are supposed to be mysterious and stuff." Sweeping her hands down, Dr. Wright changed back in a similar fashion.

"I...hope you're not too disappointed with me," he continued after a moment, perhaps misinterpreting Ferris's stunned silence. "Imagine, a physics professor defying physics."

"Uh—no, I'm just. Surprised, is all," Ferris said. "Impressed is a good word, too."

"If you say so. Say, since you know my 'secret' now, I wonder if you wouldn't mind helping me out with that side job a little bit? It's not part of your coursework, and it's completely fine if you're not willing, but I could use someone to test out a few trick ideas on this month."

"Well, uh. I-I'll have to, think about it some," Ferris said. He actually knew his answer was yes, but at the same time his fried brain was trying to think through scheduling and logistics. Anyway, his decision might change once he was able to think straight again.

"That's fine. Just drop me an email to let me know. Now then," Dr. Wright continued, turning back the whiteboard to start erasing it. Just as easily as he'd turned into a curvy woman and back again, he smoothly shifted the subject back to the research they were supposed to be meeting to discuss in the first place. Ferris forced his frazzled mind to focus on that instead for the time being, reserving all thought about his advisor's revelation and request for later unpacking.

Ultimately, he decided to do it, and sent an email that night saying so. They went back and forth working out a schedule, and it wound up being how he spent his next few Saturday afternoons. Seeing the tricks "in development" was as amazing as seeing them on-stage, especially since Cassilda was practicing her stage-like presentation of them at the same time. There were rough edges, sure, some tricks not working and the magician herself tripping over her words occasionally, but it was still fun, in its own unusual way. Ferris gained an appreciation for what Dr. Wright had meant about this being relaxing; for him, too, it was a break from the research when he could just turn that part of his brain off for a bit and focus on something else.

Her assistant, Thana, was pretty cool too; she seemed to be closer to Ferris's age, although it was hard to tell since she was supposedly some kind of immortal cat-person..thing. One of the tricks in the middle of the first of those evenings was particularly impressive, and Ferris couldn't help but applaud a bit. Cassilda gave a brief bow and Thana visibly fumed in..what, jealousy?...until the magician went over and patted her on the head—which struck Ferris as a little strange, but it did seem to calm her down. After that the catgirl made a point of joining any applause he gave like it was a competition of who could clap the loudest for the longest, and he let her 'win', both unwilling to anger some powerful magical being again and hardly seeing the point of it in the first place.

On the last Saturday of the month, with Halloween the following week, they wrapped up a bit earlier than usual. Ferris clapped for the last trick, Thana joining in as usual. "Thank you, thank you," she said, bowing, sweeping off her witch-like hat and putting it back on as she stood up straight again. "Well, you've been a really wonderful guinea pig, I must say. It's good to have someone analytical enough to point out when the audience is gonna figure out a trick too easily."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Thana said, huffing.

"Nothing, dear." Patting the catgirl on the head (which Ferris was more or less used to seeing by now) quieted her down.

"Well, it's been fun for me too," Ferris admitted. "I guess we're done?" They hadn't scheduled any meeting past this one, anyway.

"For now, at least," she nodded. "I wanted an impressive repertoire for Narra's party next—oh, hey! I don't believe I've mentioned that in your presence before now. There's a big Halloween party going on next week. I guarantee I can get you in if you want to come. I plan to put on a special performance!"

"Uh well.." Ferris fidgeted nervously. "I'm not really the partying kind, you know. Anyway, I don't exactly have a costume or anything."

"Well, I won't push you. But it's good to try new things sometimes, even if you don't think you'll like them," the witch said. "As for the costume..hmm. I suppose I've stolen some valuable time from you this month without much in the way of compensation, huh?"

"You said this was a volunteer thing from the beginning," Ferris said. "And I don't mind, really. Paying me could get us both in trouble."

"I wasn't thinking of payment anyway. Rather, I could provide you with a more than impressive costume," she said, pulling out a dark red beret from—well, seemingly nowhere, but Ferris was sort of getting used to her being able to do that sort of thing sometimes. "Magic and all that. Actually—..."

The magician took a second to examine the object she'd just pulled from thin air, as if really noticing it for the first time. "I've just had an idea for a very special trick. Not sure if I could pull off something like it any other time of the year. It is rather unusual, but I think it'd be fun, and give you that costume—whether you decide to go to the party or not. Would you, be willing to help me try it out?"

The way she phrased the request—and the way Thana was leaning slightly toward them like a (regular) cat anticipating something to pounce on—made it seem like this trick was something serious, maybe not one she'd ever actually do in front of a larger audience. Ferris had experienced more magic in the past couple of weeks than he'd seen in his entire life before them, and he had to admit it was intriguing, often outright amazing to see it so up close. So, some more serious magic from his witch-like professor? How could he say no?

"Well, uh—sure," he said, and nodded a few seconds later as he mentally solidified the decision.

"Okay then! Now, you shouldn't worry about anything unusual, I'll tell you how to undo things and 'take the costume off' afterward, mmkay?"

"Yeah..?"

Cassilda nodded back, then eagerly stepped forward and set the hat on his head, seeming to take a second to adjust it so it leaned slightly to the right instead of sitting dead-center. Staying close, she seemed to think to herself aloud: "Now, what first...oh!" She snapped her fingers, producing a brief burst of sparkles from the same point as the sound. "Of course. Le~et's.." Her hands carefully took Ferris's glasses and slid them down his nose a little, and then—before he could ask what she was doing with them—her index fingers pointed each toward one of his eyes, producing a blindingly bright flash. He squintingly blinked by reflex, then blinked a couple more times as his eyes readjusted and became able to see again. At first he thought she'd pushed the glasses back up and he somehow hadn't felt it, but then he became aware of them still sitting way up on his nose. Pulling them up himself, he found his vision through them was weird, and without them was normal.

"Whoa—really? You can just—?"

"I guess so!" Cassilda said, shrugging as he took them off to really get a view of the world. "I think I'll make that stick when the costume's off too, if you like it. May I—borrow those for a bit? Aand, take these," she said, exchanging (with his cooperation) the corrective glasses for a pair with plain, unbent lenses which she produced from the same place as the hat. "They're part of the costume," she explained, and he shrugged, putting them on. "Great! Now then..."

The magician wiggled her fingers a bit, as if warming them up, and then made a downward-outward sweeping motion with her hands that started on either side of his head and went down to his stomach-level. Sparks of her magic flew from the hands into him, and he felt a faint tingly sensation starting from where they contacted his skin and rapidly spreading outward. He felt something tickling his ears, forehead and neck, and soon saw dark brown locks of hair sweeping down into his vision. At the same time, the room rapidly crawled upward around him, his eye level visibly sinking downward.

"W-whooaa..!" Hair tickled his cheeks and lightly brushed against his shoulders as he felt his shirt and pants loosen around him; looking down he could see not only floor rushing upward but his body getting slimmer and all-around smaller, too. His shoulders were narrowing, his arms and legs slimming down, and his very hands were turning smaller and more delicate-looking. Then he looked up again, as the downward rush slowed to a halt, to find his professor standing some inches over him, her smiling lips right about at his eye level. "Uh..t-this is..?"

"Relax, I'm not through yet," she said, and winked—which somehow, perhaps a part of the magic, made him feel calmer and less worried about suddenly shrinking so much. Her hands reached down to his shoulders and gently massaged them, and he felt them being pushed inward still more; his whole body felt like it was relaxing as some faint sparks of her magic trailed its way down it. He could feel his stomach tightening slightly as it grew flatter and slimmer, the sides caving in a bit, and his hips and bottom seemingly doing the opposite—feeling "looser", and indeed growing a bit wider and plumper. It all felt so..curiously nice, the sensation of his body changing comforting him even more rather than increasing his worry, and in no time at all it seemed she was done.

Cassilda took a very small step back, looking him up and down—admiring her handiwork, it seemed. But before Ferris could fully snap out of the slight stupor from what he'd just been feeling she raised her right hand to point an index finger toward his lower stomach. "Aaa~nnd..there!" she said, seeming to fire off a particularly bright, fast spark from her fingertip; it hit him not with a tangible impact but with a warmth at the point of contact which spread outward, particularly downward. He felt a weird, tingly sensation down between his legs as that pleasant, comforting warmth reached down there, and then a bizarrely pleasant slipping, pulling feeling. "A—aah...w-whaaaah..?" he mumbled, equal parts confused and...pleased..?

"Oh, right!" Cassilda, seeming to remember something, reached forward and very gently poked a spot on the front of Ferris's neck—his adam's apple, actually.

As it retreated away, he let out another "Aa~aah.." in response to the weird sensation downstairs and was treated to the sound of his own voice changing. "Aah—a~aa~aah..!" He could feel—it—getting smaller and smaller now, its mass steadily tugging itself into his body. It was an utterly bizarre feeling; a part of him understood that he was about to stop being male quite soon; and yet he couldn't help but want it to continue, and even to hit its logical conclusion.

"Ah—o~OOooh..!" His voice's pitch and tone changed rapidly now; already he sounded awfully androgynous, if not feminine. And then: "Oh-o~oh..! OOo~oh, oooh..!" As Ferris's manhood melted fully away, his voice shifted to a high alto or low soprano tone—unmistakably a woman's. At the same time, this became more literally true as she felt a gentle, fuzzy, tingly sensation down there accompanied with a faint upward push in her lower stomach.

The new girl was left gasping in some rapid breaths for a moment, suddenly aware of how very hot her cheeks now were, as she finally began to mentally process what Cassilda's trick was doing to her. "You—uh, t-this.." she stammered, finding the new voice very strange to hear coming from her own mouth. "Costume..a girl?" she managed after a second.

"Mm-hm!" the magician nodded, looking quite pleased with the results so far. "That's not all, though! Check this out." Her hands reached forward, fingers nimbly brushing aside Ferris's long hair to run across the shorter girl's ears for a second. No sooner did they begin to tingle than she let go, pulling back again before making a gentle tossing motion with her hand that caused a spark of magic to fly around behind Ferris and land squarely in the base of her spine. From all three locations she felt continued tingling and stretching; her ears were actually growing taller, and turning around she discovered a wide, bushy tail in the process of pushing itself out past the hem of her well-oversized shirt.

"Um..?" Ferris turned forward to look up at her professor again, who seemed equally pleased to see the short girl growing fuzzy parts.

"Ahh, yes. Almost forgot." Cassilda made a sort of sweeping motion with her hands from her own chest toward Ferris's, and some sparks slowly waved from her palms into the shorter girl's flat chest.

"Mmh..!" This brought on some sharp, yet pleasant tingling, followed by a gentle push forward centered on each of her nipples. Ferris shuddered as it began, then found herself blushing again as a fuzzy, deeply pleasant sensation hit her newfound womanhood in response to the suddenly sensitive skin brushing forward against the cloth of her shirt. "Aa~ah! Mmh, mrr~rrh..." Much to her own surprise, Ferris's initial involuntary cry of pleasure gave way to a kind of animal-like churring. Her ears, still growing but already quite mobile, lowered until they were pointed horizontally outward, and her tail swished back and forth behind her as it continued to get bigger and bushier.

"Mrrh, ah-a~ahnn.." Ferris squirmed with pleasure; the sounds she made were quiet but the feelings producing them were unbelievably intense. For a long moment, she couldn't speak or even think, only enjoy the feeling of those little bumps that had budded on her chest steadily blooming outward into a pair of generous breasts fit to compliment her slender, girlish figure. "Ah—a~ah..!" What little of her mind was active seemed focused on encouraging those bumps—and her tail, too—to continue to grow and provide her with more of that wonderful feeling down between her legs. And then there was one final push, drawing a somewhat louder "AA~AH!" from her lips as the sensations down below resolved very pleasantly, and she was left panting again, if anything even more heavily than before.

"Perfect! Now let's do the clothes." Ferris opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times, having done so just in time to see a swirling spiral of magic from Cassilda's hands going around her, causing the excessively loose clothes she had on to rapidly reshape themselves into something much more fitting. Her pants shrank shorter and shorter while her socks crawled up her smooth, shapely legs, pulling tight against them even as the pants spread out into a skirt. Her shirt became a sweater, gaining a deep v down the neck while her undershirt rearranged into a white button-down with a collar, and a bra gently fixed itself into place below that, neatly wrapping around her chest and cupping her new bosom. In no time at all, she was wearing clothes fit perfectly for her new, petite form—well, the sweater sleeves were still a bit long, perhaps.

 

Ferris adjusted the glasses even though she didn't need them to see—a nervous habit that was going to prove difficult to break, most likely. They were essentially being held up by her nose now that her ears were flopping around all over the place up there, sensitive fur running its way through her long, soft hair. "Um..this is..wow. Really something," she said.

"I agree," Cassilda said, nodding. "A good costume can fool other people, a great costume can impress them, but with the help of magic, I think an amazing costume could be something that gives one a whole new perspective on life. Soo, that one comes with foxy ears and a tail."

"Yeah—I, noticed," she said, turning around to look at the tail behind her again. She could control it easily, but it seemed to move with a mind of its own too—and yet she was already becoming quite comfortable with its presence. "Think I felt my teeth change a little at some point too," she further observed, taking a second to run her tongue along them and discovering some somewhat longer, sharper canines than before.

"So, what do you think? Pretty impressive trick, huh?"

"Hmm? Oh, y-yeah. I mean—I don't think I could call this anything less," Ferris said, sweeping a hand down to gesture at herself. "I..have to admit, I like the..'costume' too. It's weird in a lot of ways for sure, but it feels..good, too?"

"I know just you mean," the magician said. "But—right. To 'take it off', you just remove the hat a few times in quick succession." She demonstrated the maneuver with her own witchy hat, taking it off and putting it back on twice before taking it off a third time. "To 'put it on' you put both the hat and glasses on. Orr, as a failsafe in case you lose those, any hat and any glasses will do if you do that with the intent of going back and forth."

"So I can just..look like this, whenever I want to?" The witch nodded. "Well, that's impressive. Um..I guess I don't have much of an excuse to avoid the party now, huh?"

"Like I said, I won't force you or anything. But if you want to come, you're more than welcome!" Cassilda said cheerfully. "There's this candy witch coming who makes the best candy, and she'll be giving out the stuff for free. And lots of other folks have signed up to go, too."

"Hmm." Ferris didn't usually have much of a sweet tooth, but...something about her present form made her salivate a bit at the prospect of free candy. "Well—sure, it sounds like fun. I guess. I think I can make some time to go."

"Attagirl," the magician said, giving a thumbs-up. "You never know what kind of adventure's waiting for you if you're willing to try something new." The way she said it made it sound like it was coming from experience. Logically speaking, perhaps it was.

Ferris drove home back in his original form that night, both pairs of glasses sitting in a cupholder next to him. But no sooner was he back in his apartment alone than he put the 'costume' back on, rationalizing that he wanted to get used to being so short and...all the other things so he wouldn't be awkward at the party. The change was much quicker now that it had happened the first time, and he experimented going back and forth with different clothing, eventually pulling some outfits off in the female form to keep them that way because she liked them better.

Even though the new shape was a costume itself, Ferri couldn't help but get a more mundane sort of costume to go on over it. She settled on a vampire getup since she already sort of had fangs, and...because it was cute on her. That Halloween was her first time wearing the "fox girl Ferri" costume in public, and she had a lot of fun. There were all kinds of "magic" people at the party, including an actual werewolf, and the candy—which her costume had quite an appetite for—was as amazing as advertised. Also, her professor put on a more than impressive show; even though she'd helped test some of the tricks there was quite a lot of it that surprised her.

It was also very far from the last time Ferris wore that costume. Really, it may be more accurate to say it was the beginning of a long, steady trend from his original form being the dominant one toward Ferri "taking over", and hardly ever turning back by the time the next Halloween came around. This was, as Cassilda might have put it, quite a successful adventure indeed.

Starry Treat

Well, I wasn't sure I was going to get anything but a bunch of Battle Vixens done this month, but I finally had a decent idea for a Halloween-adjacent caption. So here it is!

 

Well, it came out rather long, and I appreciate it might be a pain to read in image form as a result. I still wanted it to be "a caption" since I hadn't had one in a while. But, if you prefer, you can read it in "story form" below instead.

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There was a little house right in the middle of the suburbs. It was smaller than its neighbors, a single-story home with only a couple of bedrooms, but otherwise quite average looking. When the holidays came it was modestly decorated at best; anyone unfamiliar with the neighborhood wouldn't perceive the place to stand out at all. However, every October the kids would eye that house in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the last day of the month when they could visit it in costume. This was because the owner and sole occupant of the house, Jean Eaton, always had the very best haul of treats. He gave out high-quality candy, seemingly personalized to the tastes of kids he'd seen before, and in generous quantity—all without ever seeming to run dry, despite an ever-increasing demand.

Really, Jean was well beyond the point of getting on in years. He was living out a peaceful, reasonably happy retirement despite being a childless widower. His means were modest, but he made a special point to save up for Halloween and find the best deals on the best candies, for two main reasons: He remembered the joy of his youthful days, when he was just like those children, and wanted to keep that joy alive for the next generation. A Halloween party was where he'd first met his eventual wife when they were teenagers, both of them in costume, so the holiday held a special significance to him. Second, of course, he and his departed wife had always wanted children of their own, but in lieu of what was now a complete impossibility, at least making the kids of others happy for one special night was something that brought him joy.

Most kinds of candy didn't really go bad, but Jean generally wanted it reasonably fresh; he tried to go out to buy the stuff at that point in September when everything was just starting to go on sale, but was still around in abundance, largely ignored by the sorts of people who would invariably panic-shop at the last possible moment for their trick-or-treating audience. For this reason, he was mostly stocked up by mid-October, when a trip to the grocery store took him by a new, temporary shop set up somewhere along the way. But as soon as he saw the place he pulled in, its extensive decoration compelling him to at least take a look.

Standing a short ways before the front of the big tent, he paused for a breath as well as to appreciate the place. "Fren and Ko.", the sign at the top proudly declared in pink lettering against a black background; the striped tent in orange and black was really something to see, and some further Halloween decorations, impressive in their own right, encircled the establishment. After taking it all in, Jean continued on inside, every other step supported by a quad walking cane which he occasionally insisted he didn't really need.

It was a lively place, and surprisingly sold candy alone—no costumes or decorations like those outside, despite whoever owned the shop clearly having an eye for that sort of thing. There were plenty of customers around, though of course most were well below Jean in age, and some attendants running around answering questions, helping people get things off the shelves, even offering free samples sometimes. It was hard to overstate his delight when Jean examined the prices of the candy a little more carefully; the majority seemed to be house-branded, including some equivalents to better-known brands but also a number of unique concoctions as well.

One display stuck out as unusually expensive, selling only single pieces at what seemed to be exorbitant prices, yet it, too, was somewhat popular for some reason. Oh well—perhaps those tasted especially good to the younger crowd, but Jean's interests were well covered here, too. He went around the store thinking about the tastes and mentalities of the neighborhood kids who would show up to his place in about half a month's time, pulling down a bag here, a box there, until he calculated that the contents of his cart would fully exhaust the rest of his candy-buying budget for the year. He'd managed to pick up basically everything he wanted and even a little more, so he was satisfied to continue on his way to the front to pay.

Before he could really begin the work of unloading the cart so its contents could be scanned, the girl behind the counter swiftly went around to the front to take care of it for him. "I can take care of that, sir," she said cheerfully. She was a short, white-haired beauty with eyes of green and blue, dressed in a sort of faux-maid costume and possessing catlike ears and a tail which—watching her work—Jean perceived had to either be real or extremely good facsimiles. He was old, but still young enough to enjoy a cute girl's appearance, so he just watched in appreciation, letting her take care of it all since she seemed so eager.

She didn't seem to need to scan anything, instead just moving it all into a few bags, examining each item in turn, before going back behind the counter and swiftly typing out a total—which looked to be a bit lower even than Jean had guessed—perhaps he'd overestimated the tax or something. The register dinged when she finished entering it in. "Oh!" Her ears went up excitedly in response to the noise, and she leaned forward slightly—which definitely would've had Jean's attention if she didn't already. "Hey, your purchase qualifies for a special promotion of ours. It's um..'buy enough and get a specialty Star Candy'! Yeah!" The way she said that last part sounded like she'd either forgotten what it was called or just fabricated the promotion herself in that very moment, but she did seem perfectly ready to pull out a wrapped candy from under the counter and drop it into the least full of the big bags. "It's uh, kinda an experimental new creation of Fren's, so we'd really appreciate it if you'd try it out when you get home and let us know what you think!"

"Oh? Well, sure, miss," Jean said. How could he resist a cute face like that? Anyway, 'Fren' was presumably one of the owners or something going by the shop's name, and with prices and variety like this, he certainly hoped they'd be back next year. He handed over a card to pay for his purchase, then let her put the bags back into the cart and energetically roll it out to the car for him, even going as far as to load it all into the trunk.

"Thanks again, miss ah..?"

"Kora!" She said eagerly, nodding. "Remember to try the Star, sir!"

"'Course."

One grocery trip later, Jean got home. Everything came inside at a frustratingly slow pace, but it was nothing he wasn't used to, and soon enough it was all put away; the big new bags of candy now occupied the same table as all his earlier purchases, all awaiting final preparation a bit later into the month to be given out for Halloween. Then he finally remembered he was supposed to be trying something from one of those bags, and dug around for a bit until he finally found it, pulling it out to examine it a bit more closely.

While he understood the appeal of candy more than well enough to fulfill the tastes of the neighborhood kids, Jean had quite a mature palate these days, and his health wouldn't tolerate eating too much candy anyway. But surely trying this one piece in appreciation of those excellent prices and service wouldn't hurt. Anyway, on closer inspection this seemed to be one of those high-priced "specialty" candies he'd seen on display, judging by the highly decorated, branded packaging applied to just the single piece. It was artfully done, and almost a shame to unwrap it—but unwrap it he did. The inside of the wrapper had a phone number written on it in pen in one place, which he took mental note of, presuming it to be what he should call to give feedback on the treat.

The artfulness of the treat extended beyond its wrapping to even its physical form—impressive considering the fact that most people were liable to pop the thing in their mouths before they got a chance to appreciate it with their eyes. It was a dark-shaded chewy, gummy sort of candy in the shape of a five-pointed star (true to its name); mostly a near-black with one of the arms of the star along with the same-facing side of the two neighboring arms brightening through a dark purple to a pinkish shade right at the tip. The center was engraved with "Fren" in signature-type cursive, and turning it over Jean was slightly surprised to find the opposite side signed "Kora" in the same way. Clearly the girl who'd checked him out was more than just a temporary counter worker; she was evidently half of some sort of partnership involved in both owning the store and producing the candy itself.

Well now, that was something. Given the slightly suspicious way she'd announced the 'special' to him, Jean had the impression now that he'd somehow caught a co-owner's eye enough for her to want him to sample a new product for them. Maybe it was because of how much he'd bought, but in that case he had to hope they weren't under the impression it was all for himself. Hopefully, as well, they wouldn't be too disappointed if the treat didn't satisfy his personal tastes too much. But—either way, he'd agreed to try it, and certainly wanted to express his appreciation in this small way, so he popped the sugary little star in his mouth to see just what it was like.

Before taking a bite, he made a point to play it around on his tongue a bit; even if his feedback wasn't particularly helpful, Jean wanted to be sure he gave the best he could. The flavor was surprisingly complex, a sort of mixture of slight sweetness and subtle sourness that somehow made him feel intrigued and curious to try more. Finally biting in and beginning to chew seemed to amplify the subtle flavors into something steadily increasing in intensity, yet always in a strange sort of balance that Jean found unbelievably pleasant and delicious.

"Hmm~Mmm." He stood up straighter, letting go of his cane without really thinking about it, and leaned back and forth without feeling at all at risk of falling over. Then he found himself stretching, leaning back slightly with his arms raised to the air and letting out a low, grunting "Mm-mnh" as his muscles from head to toe all seemed to easily loosen up and relax from the gesture, as though it had come right after an unusually effective massage. Afterward the candy's flavor seemed to ramp up its intensity more—both the sour and the sweet—beyond what he would've expected to enjoy before, but the contrast and balance between the two flavors seemed to serve to make them more appealing instead. How did they manage to concoct something like this to continue changing its flavor, Jean wondered, the intrigue from before turning to a level eager curiosity he'd thought himself incapable of for at least the past couple of decades.

"Mmh?" He looked around, realizing that thinking about the candy so much had made him oblivious to the world around him for a moment at the same time as something unusual which he couldn't quite immediately place caught his attention. Jean examined the kitchen for just a moment longer before realizing what it was: Everything just looked a bit...taller than he was used to. In fact, it seemed like it was all very slowly climbing upward still, apparently unsatisfied with the small amount it had grown so far. "Whmmgh?" Mouth still full of candy, he looked around and down in amazement before arriving at the conclusion that the floor was getting closer to him—so the room wasn't actually growing, but instead he was doing the opposite!

"Hummh!?" Jean's teeth audibly smacked with the candy between them as he looked, mouth slightly agape, back and forth again; in fact the shrinking was getting faster! But it didn't feel bad at all; instead he felt rather good. Looking down once again, he saw his that clothes were looser around him than usual, but also that the skin of his arms and hands looked softer and distinctly more youthful than they had before, and the hair on them was thinner and shorter, too. Just then, finding his smaller lower body insufficient to hold them up, his pants and underwear all slid down to the floor, exposing legs which were undergoing much the same transition as his arms.

"Wha~a's..huh?" he mumbled, not willing to open his mouth wide enough to risk losing any of the delicious treat he was still chewing, and got to hear his voice crack oddly, then come out sounding a bit different—a bit higher in pitch and definitely younger-sounding than before. Then Jean felt something tickling his forehead, cheeks and the back of his neck, and his hand reached up to find soft, increasingly long locks where a balding head had been before. Some of them trailed to his eyes, displaying a pure, nearly-black brown instead of the bright gray he was used to, and at the same time his fingers brushed across his cheek and found it soft and smooth, the body hair utterly gone from its surface.

"Mm~mmh..?" His voice changed more as he tried to think through what was happening, but found the now unbelievably pleasant flavor of the candy he was chewing to be a bit of a distraction. Still, he noticed that the sense of relaxed looseness he'd felt after stretching was now even more pronounced than before, and some experimental stretching and leaning found absolutely none of his body to be sore or stiff the way he was used to it being. As his head-hair trailed its way on down past his shoulders toward his belly, he looked down again to see his limbs now completely devoid of body hair just like his face, leaving their skin as soft and smooth-looking as a baby's. In addition, his arms and legs looked slimmer than before, his hands smaller and more delicate—and all were still shrinking as the floor continued to creep upward on him.

"I-I'm..?" Jean swallowed a little more of the delicious candy. "Yo~ounger..?" he mumbled, his voice continuing to rise and shift. "A~aammh..!" Then he felt another, even more unusual sensation as something pushed its way out from his lower back, sliding right down along the back of his shirt past the hem as it rapidly grew longer and longer. "Mmrr~rrh!" An almost feline noise came from his throat next as he felt his ears sharply tingle, seeming to stretch themselves eagerly upward and outward right past his hair; both sensations had been extremely bizarre, and yet he also greatly enjoyed them, as well as the way the results felt afterward.

He employed his body's newfound limberness to bend around and get a look behind him. He saw a long, slim black catlike tail twitching around back there; the feeling of air moving across its fur (and also that of his newly big, triangular ears) was bizarrely refreshing. "C-ca~at..!?" A voice not unlike a young, teenage boy came from his lips, cracking and squeaking as it changed even more. It was just like Kora's ears and tail, though perhaps different in coloration...

Jean turned forward and looked around again; the world had finally stopped getting taller, leaving him at what he'd later measure to be a good foot and a half shorter than before. But before he could wonder whether it was over, he felt a strange, distinct tingling, slipping, tugging sensation down between his legs. "Mm~mnh..mrr~rrowr..?" Another feline noise came out as his cheeks rapidly grew warm; the feeling was deeply pleasant in a way he hadn't felt in many years. And yet it was quite different from what he was used to as well, as the very parts of him which felt it rapidly became smaller and smaller, seemingly shrinking even faster in response to his enjoyment too! "Rr~rh..aa~aAAaa~ah..!" His voice changed even more, growing younger and higher still, stretching up out of the range of any male over thirteen.

His hips squirmed back and forth as his mind caught up enough to comprehend just what was happening down there—what the end result was going to be—and somehow this just seemed to make him all the more eager for it to continue! This, in turn, appeared to cause a sudden, sharp, final tug that drew an excited "MmmrrRRRRrrrRRR~RoOoOOw~!" of pleasure from his lips as his manhood melted away into its opposite; her voice ended up at a high, childlike tone which belied the very adult sort of sensations she was experiencing just now. Indeed, Jean immediately got a taste of the kind of pleasure a girl could feel, and squirmed in place a little more, her ears down on either side of her head and her tail twitching excitedly around behind her, as she felt her hips and bottom gently plump their way outward. "M~mnh, aa~aahnn~nnh..!" She heard her voice mature ever so slowly, remaining quite high in pitch but taking on a decidedly womanly tone to match this steady appearance of curves.

Then, gasping in some breaths in the wake of all that excitement, she gulped down the last of the delicious Star Candy and immediately felt a sharp, pleasant tingling all across her chest, seeming to spread from the nipples outward. "O-oh..! It's.." she muttered to herself, finally putting two and two together. Up until now she'd been far too distracted by one thing or another to even question why she was suddenly shrinking, getting younger, growing kitty ears and a tail and now becoming a woman—but now that she'd had an instant of clarity it seemed somehow obvious that the delicious treat had been responsible. There wasn't much time to ponder that, however, as the tingling was followed by the most wonderful sensation yet, the transformation approaching its end with a gentle, steady forward push of her chest.

"Aah!" Jean was startled at first by the feeling, but then quickly settled into a satisfied purr as two little bumps raised themselves up from her newly-sensitive chest, brushing against the soft material of her shirt—which itself seemed much softer than before. "Mrr~rrh.." Her ears were down and her tail twitching rapidly again as she got a second wave of girly pleasure, at the same time eagerly encouraging the little breasts to grow. So they did, expanding out bigger and bigger and making her squirm with excitement and enjoyment of her newfound sex for what felt like a nice, long time—but couldn't have really been even as much as an entire minute. Her purring climaxed at the end with a very human, very womanly "Mrr~aa~AAaaAA~aahnn..!" as the transformation completed, leaving behind an adorable, petite yet quite curvy catgirl standing there in the middle of the kitchen.

"Hff, hh~aahh.." Jean panted softly, adorably, bending forward slightly and feeling slightly unsteady on her feet after all of that excitement down there. Yet her tail seemed more than capable of keeping her balanced, swishing agilely through strands of hair that now trailed down long enough to be felt by her bare upper thighs. She opened her eyes slowly again, standing up straight and blinking once or twice around at the room like it was all just as brand new as she felt herself to be. Looking down briefly, she found that her shirt had converted itself into a long-sleeved, slightly low-cut sort of top that hung comfortably loose across her slender frame, yet not so loose that it didn't show off the lovely new assets her chest now sported. It was black with thin, bright-pink lines decorating it along with the text "meow" running upwards along the middle of the chest—in short, it was very cute on her. Plus there was a little red ribbon around her neck with a bell hanging from it, and where an old man's boxers and long pants had been on the floor there was now a little pair of boyshorts and denim short shorts under that. She ran her small, delicate hands through the absurdly long hair, which in addition to the dark brown she'd seen before had purple to bright-pink highlights running through it, in some ways not unlike the candy responsible for her new appearance. "Ye..yes..!"

"Yeah!" she shouted, a little more loudly, lifting her hands. "This is awesome! How did they—how did I—heheh, I gotta take a look in the mirror!" The new catgirl dashed to the mirror, enjoying every bit as much as her small, light-feeling body the sensation of air rushing across her new fur, her ultra-long hair billowing out behind her, and the sudden sense of energy and outright youthfulness she was experiencing. The girl she found in her bedroom's full-length mirror looked every bit as energetic, adorable and gorgeous as she felt just now, complete with a purple, star-shaped tattoo on her left cheek and eyes that glowed with a pretty, dark-purple shade. The pinkish highlights of her hair even extended to some of her ear-fur, in addition to some pure white fluff on the inside.

She took a moment to prod and brush the big, fluffy ears with her hands and found it quite an enjoyable sensation. Not only were they soft and warm between her fingers, but the ears themselves found her slim fingers running across them pleasing in a way that'd be rather difficult to describe to anyone who didn't have fur. She even found herself purring a little more in satisfaction and just plain happiness in general.

A little while later, the new girl lay her small, slender form down across her couch and called the number she'd found on the wrapper. It didn't ring long before being answered. "Hi, Fren & Ko., Frenella speaking," said a deep, mature woman's voice on the other end.

"Hi! Uh, this is.." Well, Kora hadn't really gotten her name, had she? "So, Kora asked me to test out Star Candy today?" she said instead.

"Oh, certainly." One could almost hear her nodding on the other end of the line. "How'd you like it?"

"I-it was wonderful! It tasted really great! But, but also it um—well, I dunno how else to say it but it made me younger! Like, way younger!" It was hard for her to not notice the abundant energy she felt was spilling out into her speech as well. But—it was also pretty cute, so she wasn't unhappy with it either.

"Heheh," the woman on the other end chuckled. "Sounds like a success. Any complaints?"

"Well—so it's not a complaint exactly, but it did turn me into a girl and give me uh, kitty ears. And a tail!" she said. "Iiii like them, a lot, but someone else might not?"

"Oh, I see. Yes, I may need to tweak the recipe a little. But its main effect sounds like it was perfect." Frenella seemed to pause to take some sort of notes, perhaps.

"Um! Heyy, I was wondering," the catgirl said, eager to get this question through before any goodbyes could be said.

"Yes?"

"Is it uh..the, what the candy did, is it only..temporary?"

"Well. In the sense of being reversible if you want, yes. But it won't wear off on its own if that's what you mean," Frenella said. "If you like how you are now, you'll stay that way by default."

"Oh, awesome! I mean uh, that's great," she said, feeling herself blush a little bit at the outburst. Okay, maybe she did have a little too much energy. Then again...it felt good!

"Heheheh," the woman on the other end chuckled again. "Glad we could help. Hope you have an excellent Halloween, and many more to come, ma'am."

"Oh—yeah. Definitely! You too," she said.

After that and some brief further goodbyes, Frenella hung up. The new girl was left to eagerly ponder the implications of her newfound youth and womanhood, and to begin to plan out her actions for the next few days—then the remainder of the month—and indeed, on into the rest of her greatly lengthened life! She hopped up off the couch before long, ecstatically eager to start getting those things done.

Some of the suburb's kids were suspicious to find Mr. Eaton's house so much more and better decorated during the latter half of the month. Rumors abounded that he'd moved or died, that the house had been bought or inherited by someone much younger—and further rumors placing a young, kitty-eared girl on the scene did little to quell them. But they all came anyway that Halloween, and received an even better reward for their faith than they expected.

That girl who'd been spotted was there indeed, answering the door dressed in a zombie costume which was a perfect balance of realistic-looking and adorable and introducing herself as Jenna, often with a sucker or some other treat in her own mouth. And she gave as generously as Mr. Eaton ever had and more so, seemingly having inherited his knowledge of the kids' tastes along with his house (if indeed that was what had happened). When a curious few asked her what had happened to the house's prior occupant, she just winked and said "He's still right where he's always been", or something else equally mysterious. Whatever had really happened, the house with the new girl in it remained a fixture of the neighborhood kids' Halloweens for many years thereafter, spreading the joy (and candy) to all who came.

Battle Vixens! - 59

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---

Episode 59: Doubting; Testing

The enemies disappeared, one and all, turning to dust and blowing away on the wind.

Corporal Samuel Langdon wasn't accustomed to such an abrupt ending to a battle, but she could very well accept it. The broken remains of the gun she'd used as a blunt instrument were left on the shattered, burned, torn ground an astoundingly short distance away, and the one she'd kept was itself significantly worse for wear despite only using the seemingly-invincible knife as a bayonet, never mind its ammo being completely gone.

She didn't feel particularly tired, but it was obvious that the same couldn't be said of the lightning-wielding vixen. No sooner did the plastic people disappear than she collapsed over to sit on the ground, panting in deep, audible gasps like she'd been holding her breath for an hour. Samuel took the couple of steps over to check on her. "You, alright there?"
"Fffh..will be...hhahh..one sec..." Her response was accompanied by a faint hissing sound, which appeared to be coming from some sort of white mist rising out of her body as she shrank back down to her original appearance. By the way she winced with her ears folded back it probably didn't feel particularly good, but no sooner was it over than her breathing stabilized and she opened her eyes, nodding. "Thanks for your concern." She hopped agilely back to her feet, but still seemed overall pretty winded.

"You don't just fight like it's your life on the line," Samuel said. "Guess you got someone to keep safe?" There was a flash of suspicion—uncertainty about a relative stranger—before Ning just nodded once, very slightly. "Me too. Bit farther afield than this, but—I know what it's like."

A short while later, they met up with the other two vixens assigned to the town. Both of them were exhausted, and Tora's clothes were torn and her skin scratched in places—which she reported was the result of cutting her way through a seemingly-endless torrent of blades and briars made out of the puppets' shadows.

"Sounded like they're arrangin' transport back to the city for us," the Corporal said.

"Good. I'm beat," Fay said.

"Pretty likely I'll be assigned to help y'all in coming days. Maybe bounce back and forth a bit, depending."

"Hope so. We work pretty well together," Ning said. "...I've gotta get home, myself."
"Sure."

---

"Sheesh, you look like you got ambushed by a tanning booth." Karis had waited longer than expected for her husband to return, only to be told she was being treated in medical.
"Is that all you have to say?" She sat up in the bed, leaning to face her. "I'm lucky I don't look like the sun punched me!"

"Heh, no. I was watching; you were great out there. Still, it's impressive just how much heat your skin can take. I know I could see some heat waves on that little platform up there."

"I had Nico's help then. This is from before that," she said, poking one of the redder bits of exposed skin.
"Hey don't pick at it!"
"I'm nooot!"

"So, do your injuries go away if you turn back?"

"I dunno, it..hasn't really come up before now. Let's see." Speaking her phrase, Petra returned to looking like Simon. The burns were gone, but he immediately fell onto his back. "Oof. Oh, okay. Not burned, but..feel like I ran a marathon."
"Can you run a marathon?"
"Not like this! That's the point," he said, raising a hand to wave it around. "I just want to go home and take a nap for about thirty-six hours or so."

"I'm sure you have to do some kind of debriefing first, right? Having participated in a military action?"
"Pff, who knows? I don't know how the army works."

"National guard," Karis corrected him.

"Whatever. I'm much too tired to use the right words. I sure hope those burns don't have to be present in order to heal..."

---

All of the puppeteer's former victims—who knew English—were in a room together in the VI, fully awake again. Clark was standing with his wife, and the other vixens from the college were in the back, where the door was. An organization official explained things to the amnesiacs as best she could:

"It is important that you understand your situation. Each of you were killed within the span of the last two weeks, and by means we are still working to understand, you were returned to life. However, this appears to have severely damaged your memory..."

Light's ears were folded way back, watching them all. "I can't do this," she whispered, and turned to quickly go outside, grabbing a folding chair leaning against the wall near the door in the process. Gemma looked at Amp for a second, who shrugged.

"I think she just needs some time."

"...There is reason to believe that anyone who knew you before you were killed might be able to help you regain your lost memories. We were able to contact such people for a few of you already, but for some we don't know your precise identity, which complicates the search significantly. While we search, or wait for someone to come for you, you are more than welcome to stay here."

Rowan was next to the podium, back in fox-form, and cleared her throat to interject. "All of you have unusual abilities which you gained not long before your deaths. Using them may feel natural to you, but be aware that most people do not possess such powers and may not be very durable in the face of them. We ask you to utilize those abilites responsibly, and particularly not to harm others."

"...Right. As for who 'we' are...you are missing some of the context, no doubt, but I'll try to explain the relevant information as best I can..."

Those who didn't know English were receiving much the same speech on a one-on-one basis from the VI's translators elsewhere. After the speech was over, the amnesiacs milled around talking briefly with each other—aside from Rory, who followed Clark to the front after Rowan waved him over.

"Dr. Quinn. I don't want to press the issue, but..."

"You want to know what happened," he said, and sighed. "She showed up. I'm not really sure..how to describe it, but she sort of just...casually stopped time in a complete defiance of basic physics to have a conversation with me. Said the puppeteer was 'her enemy' and she wanted to reward me for...killing her. And then gave me a choice of what the 'reward' would be."

Rowan nodded. "I suspected her involvement in this, and now she herself has publicly claimed responsibility for the resurrection."
"She said this was...'cheating death' more than undoing it," Clark continued. "I didn't really ask for many details. I just..."
"I understand," she said, cutting him off. "The basics will do for now. I'll reach out if there are any questions. For the moment, a van's waiting to take all of you home."

"Uh..before that. Is there anyone...badly hurt?" he asked, to which Rowan shook her head.
"No one's in critical condition from the battle. Some have injuries, but very little that won't heal on its own. Anyone...your powers might have been able to save died long before we got here."

"...Good, I suppose," he said in a sort of half-sigh. The way Rory just watched this conversation with a curious interest, as though she wasn't involved in its content, was vaguely unsettling, but Rowan chose not to comment. The two of them went toward the back, Clark making a gesture toward the door at Amp and Gemma.

As they left, Rowan went toward Dawn and Cynthia.

"Did you hear the way she said that? We're 'welcome to stay'. Like, you really think we're allowed to leave?"

"Uh, well, I dunno. This place seems pretty safe, right?" Dawn said.

"You may leave if you like, but it's unlikely you'd understand much out there right now," Rowan interjected. "It would be best to go with an escort who could explain things and keep you safe."

"Hmph. Make sure we come back, more like," said the redhead with her ears folded back.

The blue-haired vixen shrugged. "You heard what I said about your powers. It is as much for the safety of others as for yours." She didn't seem to like this response much, either.

"Hey, c'mon. These people're nice. They ain't done nothin' bad to us," said Dawn. "Anyway, maybe they can find someone you know, too."
"We know both of your identities," Rowan said, leaning into the change of subject. "You were both citizens of this city before. However, your immediate families are...not around anymore, and not much is known of either of your acquaintances otherwise..aside from each other."

"Aww, really?" Cynthia said, disappointed.

The taller vixen said, "How come I know you, then? And why do I feel like I recognize some of the other folks 'round here, but she don't?"

"...You met me after gaining your powers, but after she died," Rowan said, uncertain how much of the story it was a good idea to tell. Still, with Cynthia already in a distrustful mood, it seemed best to tell at least some of the truth. "We didn't know each other long, but it was during a...turbulent time, for both of us."

Over her time working with VI, Rowan felt as if she had learned the sound of someone walking on the building's floors—specifically what it sounded like for someone to come up behind her to get her attention for some task. Sensing such an approach now, she said, "I have to go for now. You had a room here before, Dawn, and I'm sure they can find one close by for your friend if you ask. We'll talk again soon."
"Oh, uh, sure. Hope so," the tall vixen said, shrugging, while Rowan turned around to face the approaching person—a woman from their recruitment office.

"Uh, hi."
"What is it?"
She hesitated for a moment before signalling toward a door leading to an adjacent room; it seemed this conversation wasn't particularly for the amnesiacs to hear. Rowan nodded and started out that way, not waiting for her to lead or follow.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, I know you've had a..." She shook her head. "I guess calling it a 'hard day' is a pretty bad understatement, huh?"

"We all have our jobs to do," Rowan replied, then repeated: "What is it?"

"Uh, right, yeah. So you..know about what the experimental branch is up to, more or less? I was told you went to some meetings involving their head researchers.." The vixen nodded. "Well—they put a bit of a rush on things in light of...recent events. Not a dangerous rush, just going out of their way to not drag their heels once they had a proper prototype put together. And, so, their 'test subject' wound up taking on a form not unlike a normal vixen, with powers of—I'm quoting here—'undetermined intensity but obvious potential'. So.."
"You want me to recruit," Rowan inferred aloud.

"Right," she nodded. "This guy is..well, I only met him today, but my impression is he's a huge fan of you all and a hundred percent behind our mission. If it's possible, I think you'd have an easier time convincing him to lend a helping hand than someone like me who he's never even heard of. Besides which, you've handled all of...this kind of interview before now. I could try to brief him on the risks, but I'm not confident I would cover everything."

"I'll talk to him," Rowan said. "I don't promise he'll say yes."
"Sure, of course not. And thank you. But, just in case—here are the usual forms," she said, offering over a small packet of pages. "I think he's still out in courtyard three right now."

"Got it."

---

The five exhausted vixens stepped into the van; there was more than enough room even if Gemma had split into two, but she didn't. After the doors shut and it began moving, they sat in silence for a short while.

"Are you..okay?" Gemma asked Light, breaking the quiet.

"Hmmh..yeah. I was just..I'm very tired, and..." She shook her head, unable to quite find words to explain what she'd felt in that moment. Then: "You know something? Someone said I was their 'hero', and my first reaction was to get angry. I didn't even know it was possible for someone to poison a word that badly before now."

"Anyone we know?" Amp asked, and she shook her head.

"He meant well by it. I know he did. After that..encounter, I just went invisible to avoid any others. Not sure why I didn't do that in the first place, aside from...tired."

Rory watched this conversation with an impassive expression, thinking. After a pause seemingly long enough to indicate the topic had been exhausted, she said "Hey," in a quiet, hesitant tone that seemed still uncertain if the interjection was appropriate—and which felt jarringly unfitting to her voice from the others. "Um...so, did I really die?"

"Yes," Clark said. "We...we all saw it." The others nodded.

"Did it..look like it hurt?"

"..I don't know," said her husband slowly. "It was..you were..." He chuckled in a distinctly uncomfortable, humorless and sad sort of way. "You certainly..didn't do it halfway." His voice cracked slightly saying this and some tears started streaming from his eyes.

"Oh! I-I'm sorry...I really, didn't mean to upset you," she said, folding her ears down in a display of worry. "I just...I don't, feel like I died? I just feel...lost. Like I don't know, where I am or what I'm doing. I guess...is that normal?"

"I would say your situation is way too far outside 'normal' to gauge that," Light deadpanned.

"It's...okay," Clark said, sniffing and wiping his eyes on a sleeve. "You don't..it isn't your fault in the first place. I've just..been through a lot the last hour or two. Too much, even."

Since Amp had been staring at Rory for the past minute or so, Gemma gave her a questioning look. "Oh..don't mind me," she said after a second. "I was wondering...or, I guess hoping really, if I could do anything here. But, this isn't like with the comas at all. I don't 'feel' like there's anything special I can do, and anyway—since my power comes from her and she did the reviving..it wouldn't make sense for me to be able to do something unless she'd left it out."

Rory regarded Amp with a confused look for a moment. "Uh...who's this 'her'?"

"The...person responsible for giving us our powers," Clark explained slowly. "And..had a part in bringing everyone back, more or less. She goes by a lot of names, but I think 'the Giver' has really caught on the most."

"Oh. She sounds...nice? With a name like that?"

"She really, really isn't," Light said. "I don't think it'd be a stretch to say it's her fault you or..any of those other people that got brought back died in the first place."

"That sounds rather..counterproductive. Why kill people if you plan to just bring them back afterward?"

"Complicated," Amp said. "But even if her plans needed some to die, I'm sure...way more did than really had to. Including you..." She trailed off quietly, looking down at the floor, and Rory seemed to take this as a cue to stop talking for a while more.

---

As they left, the two researchers told Marcus someone from recruitment was supposed to be 'on their way' soon so she should just sit tight. Well..since there was a perfectly good target present, she took the opportunity to try out a few other 'spell' ideas. She was able to make a flash of light from the tip of her blade (Flash) and a heavy gust of wind (Gust). She also tried to make some kind of acidic or poisonous attack, but couldn't quite think up the right way to make something like that work. She was still trying to think up some more things to test out when her ears picked up the sound of one of the courtyard doors opening up and she quickly turned that way.

Rowan Shepherd, of all people, came outside. She was about as intimidating in person as Marcus had perceived her to be on TV, and her cold-eyed stare being tempered with signs of clear exhaustion enhanced rather than mitigated this effect, so Marcus sheepishly dismissed her sword and just waited for the short, blue-haired vixen to come closer.

When she stopped just inside of conversational range, Rowan seemed to take a moment to stare directly into her soul. Then: "Marcus Rowe."
"Uh..y-yeah. That's me?"

"You know who I am." It didn't sound much like a question, but since she paused expectantly rather than continuing, Marcus quickly nodded.

"Sure I do. Rowan Shepherd. You're amazing! And..kinda scary in person, no offense."
"None taken," she said in an almost humorous monotone. "I am aware of your situation, and was asked to interview you, in order to gauge your interest and competence in working with the VI in a...combat role."

"Oh. Well, uh—as far as interest goes, I'm totally on board," she said. "I mean—what you guys do is just awesome, and I've..always wanted to do more to help out. Uh, getting to, um..."

Marcus trailed off again; Rowan's emotionless stare had a distinct way of making her feel stupider with every word that came out of her mouth. Nonetheless, she gave a subtle wave of a hand that seemed intended to encourage her to go on. "Uh, yeah. Anyway—I, um, 'this'," she waved at her current appearance, "came with a sword and I can kinda, do some magic stuff. The..Dr. Bridges, said it seemed pretty versatile."

Rowan nodded. "You should not take this offer lightly. It resembles the change in wartime from being a civilian under the army's protection to fighting on the front lines. Do you think you have what it takes to fight a life-or-death battle every day, sometimes twice or three times in the same day? To watch people you care about and fight alongside get hurt and die?"

"Um.." There was something cold and factual about the way this explanation was going, like an absolutely certain prophecy of the future from an oracle of Delphi—and she'd seemed terrifying before. Although Marcus wanted to put up a brave face, she felt her ears droop quite a bit.

"You look worried. Good. I know you want to help, but if you are unable to face the reality of the situation, then you could end up as a liability instead of an asset. Think about this: Thousands of people were essentially drafted into this war with little to no choice in the matter. Many died before even getting a chance to really fight. You can walk away now, leave it to us, and never have to face it head-on."

"I-I-I know that!" Marcus said, finally building up enough courage to interrupt her. "I know I don't have to, but even if I didn't, everyone keeps going out of their way to tell me! But that's why I wanna help. You guys are my heroes because you, you fight those things and protect people, and you try to use the powers you got to make this colossal disaster we're in the middle of as much of a, uh, less bad for everyone, that you can. I don't care if it's not much, anything I can do to help, I wanna do it!"

"..I see." Rowan nodded, and was silent for just long enough for Marcus to wonder if she was supposed to be saying something else. "You have a sword, right? Let's see it."

"Uh...okay?" She made it appear again, sheath and all, holding it loosely by the hilt in her left hand.

"..Here's mine." Some water condensed from the air and formed into a sword, which the shorter vixen took in her hand right away. "I want to know how well you can use that."

"Uh—"

Without further warning or clarification, the sword came swinging Marcus's way. It was a probing strike directly to the sheathed sword, not capable of actually hurting her, but certainly enough to knock it out of her hand. "Whoa! H-hey..!" It had come fast, and she hadn't been expecting it, but somehow it seemed obvious to Marcus where the follow-up was going to come from, so she dismissed and resummoned the weapon again sans sheath to block. Only Rowan's blade didn't go where she expected at all, instead turning to water and jumping into the opposite hand to swing in from the other way and force her to turn her hand all weird to awkwardly block it.

Rowan seemed to know exactly when and how to push just a little harder at the blocking blade to make its hilt slip out of her hand all over again, and followed this up with a stab; only after Marcus took a big, semi-stumbling step backwards did she see that it would have come very slightly short of her stomach if she'd stayed still. There wasn't much time to reflect on that since Rowan stepped forward, switching hands again for a diagonal strike. This time Marcus tried summoning her sheath in her right hand to block that and the sword in the other to strike back, but the blade just barely tapped her sheath before neatly dancing around it to catch its flat on her sword's blade and flip it up out of her hand again. It was bizarre and unsettling that none of Rowan's strikes were particularly powerful, yet the relatively small force behind them always seemed perfectly placed and timed to do the worst possible thing for her opponent.

With her weapon up in the air, Marcus swung back with the sheath just to try to buy a second, and completely whiffed—the sword turning back into water just long enough for the sheath to go through and then back again to swing at her. So she stumbled and leaned way back for the blade to go just over her (that one would've cut her for real otherwise!) and then fell the rest of the way over onto her butt, the combination of all the awkward, desperate movements having thrown her entirely off-balance.

Rowan took a small step back. "Disappointing. I'm completely exhausted and barely even trying."

"H-hey!" Marcus started to get up, resummoning the sword, which her assailant appeared to take as a cue to strike at her again. "B-b-block!" In a way that felt similar yet not identical to the 'throwing' spells before, Marcus's blade went to a horizontal position just in front of her chest and Rowan's blade bounced not off of the sword, but instead a translucent blue dome-shaped barrier just in front of it. She stepped back with the sword's momentum in a manner which seemed to help her maintain her immaculate balance, which bought Marcus enough time to scramble to her feet.

"St—uh—Flash!" Fighting some instinct that suggested she throw a heavy stone at this point, she quickly cast this spell to—obviously—blind Rowan, any reservations about taking hostile action against one of her heroes well and truly overriden by instincts that insisted she was presently aiming to kill. Thankfully the 'motion' for this one was extremely brief, and somehow the light from it was perceptible to Marcus without also blinding her, so she could see Rowan closing her eyes, forming a spinning blade of water out of the vapor in the air and sending it in an arcing path toward Marcus's right—and somehow heaving dead aim even with her eyes shut like that. "F-fire?" A smaller fireball than 'usual' (seemingly because of her uncertainty) hit the blade and turned it to steam, which—thankfully—Rowan didn't appear to still have control over The relief was short-lived since the short vixen immediately—with her eyes still closed—closed the gap between them and swung hard at Marcus's right.

"Ya-aah!" She blocked awkwardly with a sheath and didn't feel the attack hit—the feint chaining smoothly into a downward chop, which was another feint to get her sword out of the way so Rowan could smack her on the side with the flat of the blade, knocking her over again on her side. "Ow..ouch...ow." That stung like it was going to leave a bruise, and the unexpected suddenness of the pain more or less stunned her to uselessness for a moment. Thankfully the test or whatever seemed to be over at this point; Rowan let go of her own sword and knelt down toward her.

"...Sorry, that was harder than I intended. I am very tired," Rowan said, still deadpan.

Marcus rubbed the spot a bit. Even though it was sore, it seemed in some way like she'd felt more impact than the injury alone would suggest. "Uh..yeah...sorry. I guess, I'm not much compared to one of you guys." The physical pain wasn't much compared to feeling like this had been a test, and—furthermore—one which she had spectacularly failed.

"On the contrary. I know I caught you well off-guard, and you really didn't want to fight back. You're just barely getting used to your powers, or perhaps you would've used that shield a little more often."

"Oh...yeah. That'd be a good idea." Duh, why'd you fireball when you could do that, idiot? "I just sort of—just now came up with that because you were, right on top of me like that..."

Rowan went the rest of the way to sitting on the ground with her. "Calling your attacks makes it very easy to track you by sound. I thought for certain you would've moved after the flash."

"Well...I...didn't," Marcus said slowly. "Um, I don't really mean to do that, but it happens naturally unless I make myself not do it. It, uh, I don't really know how to explain it but it makes doing the 'spells' easier?"

Rowan nodded. "Most of us seem to have a hard time explaining our powers to others in detail."

"Um..." After a moment's pause, Marcus realized she wasn't really sure what Rowan was still doing here. She'd failed, right?

"I've been unusually hard on you," Rowan said. "Sorry. I've had a...very harsh reminder today of just what I've been getting people into. A combat test certainly isn't standard practice, and the VI as a whole probably wouldn't have approved of it."

"Y-yeah?" The confusion didn't really abate much from that.

"You go to the college, right? Same town as Light."
"Uh-huh..?"
"I wanted to see for myself how you'd react if you were suddenly, unexpectedly put into danger. You didn't want to fight back, but you didn't run away or panic, either."
"Um..You don't think that was panicking? I was scared outta my mind before you brought out the sword!"
"Then you channeled it well, at least," Rowan shrugged. "You reacted, thought on your feet, and fought with some strategy even in the heat of the moment."

"Today's events have left us..short-handed. As if we weren't already. Dr. Rory Quinn is unlikely to be able to fight for a while, and her husband may need time to take care of her. I don't want to speak for others, but I feel certain Light would appreciate any help she can get when those monsters inevitably show back up tomorrow."

"So...wait. You mean uh, I actually passed?"

Rowan nodded. "In as much as that qualified as a test, anyway. If you're still willing to work with us, I at least would be happy to have you on our side. You just need to make sure you understand as much of your power as you can and how best to apply it before getting into a real battle." It dawned on Marcus at this point that her almost signature monotone had been steadily fading out since she sat down, settling into a more normal, conversational tone. Her voice seemed to now display the exhaustion she'd professed before. "In short...I wish I didn't have to ask for your help, but the same is true of almost anyone who got powers the 'normal' way. We can't afford to turn it away if you're really ready to give it."

"Well...yeah. Like I said, I am."

"Good."

Rowan slowly and with visible reluctance pushed herself back to her feet, then offered Marcus a hand. "I left some forms just inside for you to sign."