Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Rose
Why is my voice different?
Why do I feel different?
Why do I hurt all over?
The answer is admittedly obvious.
Willow.
I take a deep breath as I try to calm myself down. I take another deep breath when the first one fails. I take a third and a fourth and a fifth and a seventeenth and a fiftieth and -
Ooof. Feeling a little light headed.
Something soft and warm and wonderful has me wrapped up tight.
Blanket?
No, it’s Summer. She’s got me in a big hug. I can feel my breathing slowing as I take deeper breaths.
“It’s okay, Rose. It’s going to be okay. You’ll be fine,” she whispers softly into my ear. She continues to repeat reassurances until a full body shudder spreads throughout me, leaving me still.
I look over at my once and hopefully current best friend and find she’s a bit blurry. I reach up to rub my eyes and find that my face is wet. Was I crying? I hope Felicia didn’t see that.
Something plops into my lap and I look down to see Willow gazing up at me. She seems… apologetic. But not enough to stop though. It’s like she’s more sorry about me having a hard time with what she’s doing rather than the fact she’s doing it.
The three of us sit there, quietly, until Felicia enters the small side room I had used to enter Lanadel. Summer pulls back, and I have to fight back the urge to reach out for her again. It’s bad enough that I’ve let her see this much vulnerability from me, but I cannot handle the idea of the former logger thinking I’m weak.
Standing up on shaky legs I lock eyes with the redhead before me. “So what now?” I ask, trying not to wince at my changed voice. To Felicia’s credit, she doesn’t even acknowledge Willow’s alterations to me.
“Now that my proxy body has been liberated, we need to take some time to lay low,” she explains. “They won’t stop looking for us, especially not after your display of power, but the thre- er, four of us will need to play smarter, not harder.”
Felicia pulls up a map of the city with various points noted on it. I actually recognize it. It’s a layout of all of LOG’s physical holdings in Lanadey City. I’m about to comment on it when Summer holds up her hand and Felicia nods to her. “I agree that we need to lay low, but I think more importantly we need time to rest and get to know each other better,” my blonde friend suggests. “Up until literally yesterday, the two of you were at odds with each other, and I was a simple restaurant owner.” She takes a moment to presumably gather her thoughts before she continues. “Also, Rose is changing, and she needs time to adjust. Maybe even time to let the changes run their course before we push her even further.”
I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t like the idea of being coddled. “Now hold on! I’m perfectly fine,” I try to argue before Summer gives me such a mom glare that I immediately pipe down. Felicia seems to consider the point before sighing and giving a slight nod.
“You’re right. If Rose has a panic attack every time she comes out of Lanadel, she could wind up a liability with some of the tasks we have before us.” Gee, great. I sooo love being a liability. “Furthermore,” she continues with a nod to Willow. “We should try and get a better understanding of what Rose and Willow can do.”
This whole making decisions for me and Willow is leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I look between Felicia and Summer and mumble something to the effect of needing space and head further into the back of the building.
Since there aren't a lot of private spaces in here, I wind up hiding in the bathroom. There’s a mirror above the sink and I’m almost too afraid to look. Except I’m a fucking badass witch or whatever, I’m not afraid of shit!
Fuck fear!
Fuck doubt!
I am the master of my fate!
Except… I’m not. Willow is, it seems.
My eyes stay glued to the tiled floor. Willow walks in and sits before me. She lets out a soft noise that’s not quite a meow, but not quite a cry. She admits that I was her best bet in a rough situation, and that’s why she chose me. But before I can bristle at that, she assures me that she doesn’t regret her choices.
Great, now even the cat is trying to soothe my shattered ego.
That’s not fair though, is it?
“Why are you doing this?” I ask the insanely powerful AI for what is probably the hundredth time. “Why are you changing me?” She doesn’t bother to answer, she knows I know.
I finally gaze into the mirror and let out a sigh. Whether it’s from relief, or disappointment, or some other powerful feeling I can’t quantify right now, it doesn’t matter.
I look… cute. Like a teenager almost. No wonder they’re babying me so much. I look like a child. Am I always going to look like this? I mean I don’t mind being small. I mostly made my proxy body taller to differentiate it from my own. Nobody would see a short cripple and think, ‘Oh hey I bet that’s that sexy Webweaver chick who does all the cool shit!’
I have boobs too; not terribly big ones, but they’re there. I reach down for my cock and it’s just a teeny tiny little nub. More like a large clit than a penis. I think my hair is longer too and I’m definitely softer which is why I look more like a cute teen than anything.
Willow brushes up against me and reassures me that I won’t stay looking like a teen forever. Apparently I was rather underdeveloped before due to malnourishment. I guess that tends to happen when you barely eat. With my faithful feline’s help and some steady meals from Summer, I’ll start to look more and more like my proxy body. Smaller though apparently, as my thoughts about enjoying being small haven’t gone unnoticed.
Do I like this? Admittedly, yeah.
Do I want this? Jury’s still out on that one. But tentatively yes.
Does that make me trans? I still need to talk to Summer about that. Pretty sure it’s normal for a guy to want to be a - oh wait. Summer said that wasn’t a thing.
Fuck me.
I’m not looking forward to seeing their smug looks. But I might as well get it over with.
I wash my hands and make my way back out to the main room. I notice Summer and Felicia are talking in hushed whispers.
Are they conspiring? The paranoid part of me wants to assume the worst and just jump ship now. But I quickly ignore that impulse. Still, it’s likely to do with me, and that just won’t do.
With all the subtlety of a bowling ball rolling down stairs, I barge into the room. “So turns out I’m probably trans!” I announce, causing the two to turn to look at me with surprise that settles into the most patronizing look I can imagine.
Well fuck you two too, I guess.
Summer
I can’t believe my eyes. I had been keeping watch over Rose while she went into Lanadel to liberate Felicia’s proxy body from LOG custody. It may not have been strictly necessary, but I had wanted to make sure nothing strange happened given all this weirdness with that cat of hers.
Turned out I wasn’t wrong to be concerned as shortly after she entered, I could see her skin start to ripple as if someone had dropped a rock into a puddle. Her face softened, and her hair grew out longer. She seemed to fill out a bit more and didn’t look nearly as emaciated. She for sure was developing some curves.
Now she’s awake. She looks confused by something. She opens her mouth to say something, but it just comes out as a quiet rasping. I grab a glass of water and hold it to her lips.
“So what’s with the -” she freezes up as we both hear her new voice. It’s different for sure. It’s almost melodic. She sounds older than she looks, like a teenager with a twenty something’s voice.
She’s breathing at least, so that’s good. She’s breathing a lot actually. Wait, oh no! She’s having a panic attack. I quickly wrap her up in a hug and whisper calmly to her to try and help her center herself.
Rose’s tears stain my shirt, but that’s fine. Well, it will be so long as she doesn’t notice. I don’t want her to beat herself up even more.
Something presses between us and it’s Willow. She seems to be trying to offer some comfort to Rose as well. I may have some mixed feelings about the AI cat, but at least they aren’t just changing Rose without trying to help her through it. I still think she should’ve waited till Rose gave her explicit consent.
After a bit of time that I couldn’t be bothered to keep track of, Felicia steps into the room. I’m a little worried about how my ravenette friend will react to that, but I don’t have much time to dwell on it. Rose gets to her feet and in a shaky voice asks, “What now?”
Felicia nods and looks between the group of us. “Now that my proxy body has been liberated, we need to take some time to lay low,” she explains. “They won’t stop looking for us, especially not after your display of power, but the thre- er, four of us will need to play smarter, not harder.”
Felicia pulls up a map of the city with various points noted on it. I’m not sure what it represents exactly, but one of the markings is circled several times and I know that spot is LOG’s physical HQ. So it’s probably a map of LOG holdings.
Felicia’s about to continue, but I hold up my hand. She nods to me so I say what’s on my mind. “I agree that we need to lay low, but I think more importantly we need time to rest and get to know each other better,” I suggest. “Up until literally yesterday, the two of you were at odds with each other, and I was a simple restaurant owner.” I take a moment to gather my thoughts before I continue. “Also, Rose is changing, and she needs time to adjust. Maybe even time to let the changes run their course before we push her even further.” Rose gets all up in arms about it, but I just give her the mom glare and she settles down.
Felicia seems to agree with me, even if her concerns are more about whether our resident witch will be a liability if she has a panic attack every time she comes out of Lanadel. Said witch wanders towards the back of the building, mumbling something about space.
I move to go after her, but Felicia holds out her hand to stop me. She shakes her head and gestures back at a table.
“She needs support,” I try to tell the redheaded woman. “She’s hurting, and confused and -”
“And not one to really appreciate said support,” the former logger interrupts. “She needs space,” she adds with a surprisingly warm smile. “I don’t know exactly what she’s going through, but I recognize someone who’s too proud to accept help. The worst thing we can do is smother her at the moment. She needs to come to you for help.”
There’s something about the way she’s talking that worries me. She’s not as held together as she tries to look, that much is obvious, especially after her story about her residential block. But more than that, it seems like she’s - no. It can’t be. I’m so tempted to confront her about it, but I don’t want to risk ruining it. It’d be too cute. So I try a different tactic.
“I’m glad you’re more familiar with that sort of coping method I guess,” I begin. “I’ve always been a fan of a big hug to help process things, but you’re right. Rose hasn’t ever been one to really admit she needs help. She’s too stubborn, too proud,” I explain. I can remember the time Rose dropped a toy behind the couch and instead of asking her parents for help, she cobbled together a makeshift fishing rod to try and hook onto it and drag it out. The plan failed miserably as the hook didn’t have the rigidity to actually hook onto the toy, but still, she’d always been so independent.
Focusing on Felicia’s expression, I press on with my plan. “She’s always had that willful independence and while some always found her hard to be around, I often found myself admiring her.” Felicia nods along, I can see a faint hint of blush on her cheeks and know that I’m right. She’s somehow caught feelings for my best friend. I can’t say I blame her. I’m still crushing on her. I always have, admittedly, even when we were apart for all those years. It’s especially strong with how cute she’s becoming. Assuming she starts looking more her age, I bet she’ll be a knockout. Felicia’s pretty hot too, I wonder if the two of them would be interested in -
“You’ve got feelings for her, don’t you?” Felicia asks in a hushed voice. I must’ve been blushing while thinking about her. Oh well, turnabout is fair play I suppose.
“Maybe,” I reply in an equally quiet voice. “There’s something about her. Underneath all those prickly thorns, she really is as beautiful as a rose. She’s been through a lot and I can’t help but want to be there for her as she recovers from it,” I admit.
Felicia sighs and says, “Something about her is right. She just seems so… so… passionate. She constantly catches me off guard and makes me laugh and I’m not sure whether I should enjoy it as her humor is sometimes a bit morbid and frightening.” She smiles softly at me. “Though, at least you’re a little more straight forward. You’re gorgeous, kind, emotionally intelligent. If things were different, maybe -”
Rose comes barging in with all the grace of a drunk giraffe and shouts, “So turns out I’m probably trans!” Goddamnit Rose. I turn and look at her and level her with the least surprised look I can muster. God her timing sucks.
Felicia
Rose’s last words before she abruptly logged out rattle in my mind. I’ve been thinking about her way too much lately. First with trying to catch her, then that whole thing with Summer, now this. And somewhere along the way I think I started crushing on her?
What is with her damn sense of humor? It’s not funny, it shouldn’t be funny! Her jokes are morbid or just vulgar. And yet, I continue to have to hide my amusement at her antics.
And don’t get me started on her friend, Summer. She’s a grade A blonde bombshell. And she cooks! Holy shit, I cannot handle these sorts of distractions right now.
I take some time to clear my thoughts before going to check in on my would-be allies. I just enter the room when I notice them clutching each other while Rose cries. Willow is on her lap and is quickly displaced as the ravenette gets to her feet.
Rose asks what the next step is, and I begin to explain, but all the while I can’t help but think about how cute she looks now. Willow has apparently been changing her. She looks like a teen at the moment, but if she keeps developing, she’ll be a total looker.
It’s totally unfair how pretty they both are. There’s no way they’d ever be interested in me after everything that’s happened. Especially Rose. Why would I even want a relationship with her? She has this tendency to retreat from difficult conversa- and there she goes. My point exactly.
Summer tries to follow her but I stop her. I know a lot about what it’s like to be too stubborn to accept help and tell the blonde woman as much. If Rose wants our - her help, she’ll go to her. I used to be just like her, some would argue I still am. The difference is how willful and unapologetic she is. So when she does actually apologize, it means something. Like when she conceded to calling me Felicia. Her little gestures mean as much as some folk’s grand gestures.
I must’ve zoned out a bit as I tune in mid sentence to Summer. “-ile some always found her hard to be around, I often found myself admiring her.” I nod along with the statement. It’s easy to admire Rose when you stop trying to hold her to some sort of moral high ground. I can feel my cheeks flush a bit as I consider just how much I’ve grown to admire her as well.
Something occurs to me, and I study Summer’s face as she seems to have quieted down. I can see her own face flush as it becomes abundantly clear I’m not the only one with a little crush on the prickly witch.
“You’ve got feelings for her, don’t you?” I ask in a hushed voice.
“Maybe,” she replies in an equally quiet voice. “There’s something about her. Underneath all those prickly thorns, she really is as beautiful as a rose. She’s been through a lot and I can’t help but want to be there for her as she recovers from it,” she admits.
Yeah. Something about her. There’s something about Summer too. I manage to admit that maybe I have something resembling feelings for Rose, but I’m not going to pass up the chance to flirt a little with Summer. I admit to her that maybe if things were different something could happen between us. Or rather I try to as Rose comes barging out of the back shouting, “So turns out I’m probably trans!”
No Shit.
I level her with the least surprised look I can, which it seems Summer is matching.
Rose looks between us with suspicion. “So why do you two look like you’ve been undressing each other with your eyes?”
Oh goddamnit.