POM SIMULATOR 9000

[[It’s all business as usual.]]

I drop to my hands and knees solidly, fast enough that someone else might think that it wasn’t intentional. My back heaves, once, twice, almost as if I’m trying to retch, and with every rollercoaster dip and rise of my shoulders, my spine begins to break. My bones are changing in ways that don’t care for logic, going liquid, yet keeping their form, yet sounding out with a thick CRUNCH with every new angle my joints take. The soles of my feet pull away from the ground as my fingers and toes elongate, casually shifting from plantigrade to digitigrade as if it were the most natural thing on earth. My skull is turning long and narrow, my tongue suddenly feeling cramped in my mouth with all the new teeth. Distantly, there is something like [[pain,]] I guess. I have no time for it.

//I// have disappeared. I am teeth and vise-grip jaws and a body of hot liquid tendon and muscle. I am [[Cerberus]].

<center> <img src= "https://i.gyazo.com/2fc00905219a784c149d7b1859dcde7f.png"/></center> [[==>->pom1]]

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/4f36afc3b164d2e677b60b88715d64c6.png"/></center> [[==>->poke]]

<center> <img src= "https://i.gyazo.com/b8c29c0cf07a5b1725a5d87e588927fe.png"/></center> [[==>->18]]

<center>[[EIGHTEEN HOURS EARLIER]]</center>

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/babd559efeb4b9bbf486e3190d3e2929.png"/></center> “Oh… [[you got stabbed]].”

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/72c9d0ae4ddec4baba0d3d3d5745a063.png"/></center> "[[I got stabbed!!!]]"

“… punched too!” I add, jabbing a finger at the swollen, misshapen mass bulging around my right eye. “It was funny, really, ‘cuz I was starting to feel pretty proud of myself for doing a good job dodging the knife, and then he just got me off guard with his other hand! And then he got me in the shoulder with the knife anyways! Just goes to show me, I guess. But hey, nothing hurt but my pride! And my stab wound. And my eye. Does it look bad? I sure look bad, ‘cuz [[I’m basically running at about 60% vision right now]]-”

“First aid,” Calliope blurts, finally snapping into action. “Come inside, I have a kit in the kitchen.” “Aw, but it’s so nice out tonight…” I laugh under my breath at my own joke as she drags me [[through the door]].

As we enter the kitchen, her ponytail suddenly jerks to life. Like the arm of an octopus, it stretches, stretches, stretches to grab a small white box I had never noticed sat on top of the refrigerator. “How are you feeling right now?” she says. The first aid kit moves between her hair and her hand in a movement so natural it almost made you wonder why all humans didn’t work like that. “[[Pain-wise.]]”

“I’ve…” I settle gingerly into a chair. “…[[been better]].”

“1 to 10.” Before I can think of good joke for that, Calliope opens the kit and sets it on the table. Stepping close to me, she suddenly pulls my jacket from my shoulders. “H-hey, easy, Miss Sthenos,” and despite knowing better, all the adrenaline still buzzing around in my veins tells me to make my voice go all low and goofy. “[[Not on the first date.]]”

“My name is Calliope,” she responds without skipping a beat— and then she skips a beat. “This isn’t our first— Diego, is your head okay? Are you having trouble remembering things?” I sigh, trying to ignore my guts wilting at the look of panic in her eyes. “No, R— Calliope, [[I’m just joking.]]”

“…Oh.” Behind her, her ponytail pulls a brown bottle out of the kit. She dips her head as she unzips my modified tank, probably as thankful as I am that I wore the one with the diagonal zipper today. If I didn’t know her better, it’d be easily to miss the embarrassment around her silence. “Funny,” she says after a moment, “if your memory really was okay, I’d… expect you’d remember that I usually prefer my men [[bleeding less.]]”

It takes a full five seconds for it to sink in. “… did you just make a joke?” I grin, and it’s definitely not just the adrenaline making my insides flutter. “Wait— ‘usually’? What the hell does that [[COÑO—]]”

At this point the sting of rubbing alcohol is actually far worse than the wound. “Sorry,” she murmurs as I hiss. “It’s… actually a lot less deep than I thought.” Even as it takes me a moment to catch my breath, I can’t help but feel a little proud of myself. “[[I opened a mouth at exactly the right time and place.]]”

“You caught the blade? With your teeth?” Calliope stops swiping to look up at me, dark eyes suddenly glittering. “That’s... incredible, Diego, your timing and reaction must have had to be incredibly— amazingly precise!” I feel like I should remind her that it couldn’t have been that amazing if I wasn’t able to prevent the wound completely— but it’s hard to think straight with her looking at me like I’m the most breathtaking thing on the planet. With those eyes. “H-heh… well…” I cough a little, scratching the edge of my chin, telling myself the fluffy feeling in my head is probably just the blood loss. “It was… okay. It probably would have looked cooler if I hadn’t been clocked in the eye— but hey, [[Andres]] looked impressed at least—”

[[Shit.]]

"[[Andres?]]"

//[[Shit.->WhoIs]]//

"[[Who's-?]]"

“Speaking of, we got any ice? Frozen peas?” I point at [[my shiner.]] “If this swells anymore I’m not going to be able to see out of it tomorrow.”

It’s… not a very graceful subject change, and for a moment I seriously doubt Calliope is going to let it slide. But instead, her lips part and her eyes go distant. “…uh, Red?” “My name is Calliope.” The words leave her lips mechanically before the rest of her returns. “I… didn’t refill the ice trays… and we don’t really… have much in the freezer. [[Or the fridge.]]”

“Wait, really? I thought you got the groceries today.” Calliope’s arms come up to clasp each other. From behind her, her hair suddenly begins climbing up her shoulders and waist, like some bizarre, alien ivy. “I-I’m sorry, I—” “Hey, hey—” I lift my hands. “It’s okay, it slipped your mind, it’s not the end of the world.” Calliope’s hair tightens around her. “[[I didn’t for—]]” “Huh?”

“…actually, I think we do have one left you can use.” “...One...[[what]]?"

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/bd5436579152991dc8f1c48a4cf56863.png"/></center> [[==>->peetza]]

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/81b2ce1868fcee3e65ad3f76cef1006e.png"/></center> “Well, amazingly enough it actually helps a bit.” “I’ll make sure to get an ice pack after work tomorrow,” Calliope says, smoothing a bandage over my cheek. Her eyes sweep over my face—my cheek, my black eye, the frozen pizza— and dip to my patched-up shoulder. “You are sure… you’re sure you’ll feel okay going in? Tomorrow? [[I’m sure we could explain—]]”

“Aha, um, no, we could not, Calliope.” I try laughing. “You can’t— fucking tell your boss you’re calling sick because you got stabbed— Evyra will ask questions…” I look down, fiddling with the wrappings. Calliope watches, waiting. “…I’ll be fine, trust me. This is not the worst thing that’s happened to me in a fight. The most important thing I need to do is drink some [[orange juice]], haha.”

She drops her hands to her side. “Diego, did… who did this?” [[I close my eyes.]]

“You sounded like you knew him— them? Was there more than one person? Were they Excentric too?” “Red—” “You might be in danger, if they’re still out there and want to find you again— or attack someone else—” “He won’t. [[He’s not going to be bugging me anymore.]]”

“Diego—” “Don’t worry about it, okay?” “But [[what happened—?]]”

“Holy—” My hand bangs the table much louder than I intended. “SHIT, Red, can’t you take a hint?? I didn’t ride your ass this hard about the fucking groceries, can’t you, I don’t know, MAYBE give me a break? HALF of a break? I got attacked tonight and I got off of your case, [[why can’t you]]—?!”

Calliope |four>[] (live: 2s)[(replace: ?four)[////[[closes.]]////]]

Her arms are clutched around herself. Her hair is wrapping around her body, almost consuming her. Her eyes are on [[the floor.]]

"You," I say. "I," I say. >//[[I’m sorry.->bathroom]]// >//[[I’m so sorry.->bathroom]]// >//[[I didn’t mean that.->bathroom]]// >//[[I’m such an asshole, I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve that, I didn’t mean to yell, I just—->bathroom]]//

“I need to use the bathroom.” |four>[] (live: 2s)[(replace: ?four)[////[[I walk in a wide arc to move past her.]]////]]

In the silence of the apartment, the pounding of blood in my head echoes louder than anything I’ve ever known. It sounds almost like clapping. [[A round of applause for the biggest shithead on the planet.]]

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/53dc8b81fa9bb31ec582a1d356864c4f.png"/></center> Hail to the fucking [[king.]]

//(Okay, time out.)// What. //(You need to back up a bit, I am so lost. Excentric? Hair, mouths?? What???)// Well, it’s not like I’m going fucking anywhere. [[What are you confused about?]]

> //([[What’s “Excentric”?]])// > //([[Who are you?]])// > //([[Who’s the hair girl?]])// > //([[What the fuck happened to you?]])// > //(Nevermind, [[I'm good.]])//

Well, officially that’s short for //excentricardia.// It’s a fairly uncommon condition which basically translates to three things: - One: your heart moves to the right side of your body as you mature - Two: your eyes have a tendency to shift in color, typically towards yellow - and Three, [[you acquire supernatural powers that allow you to fight a dangerous alien mushroom from another dimension.]]

What, weren’t you paying attention? [[I’m an idiot.]]

...Calliope. Calliope Sthenos. A Type Gorgon Excentric - it means she has prehensile hair, basically. She was the daughter of the head of an organization that's supposedly dedicated to promoting the research and awareness of excentricardia and autism, focusing mainly on the overlap of the two- a spot that Calliope also happens to occupy. While her mother preened to the cameras and showboated Calliope around like a doll as evidence of how much she was helping, how effective her methods were, how much of an //understanding, patient saint// she was, behind the scenes… Behind the scenes, [[things were very different.]]

I don't want to fucking talk about it. >// ([[Okay, that's all I wanted to know.->I'm good.]])// >// ([[I'm still confused.->What are you confused about?]])//

//(I guess the only other thing I want to know is...)// What. //([[Are you okay, man?->Are you okay, dude?]])//

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/497bc59c3fd89f677ac3b4a9c0cf4c56.png"/></center> Buddy, look at me. Trust me, it’s going to take more than a few cuts and bruises to do some serious damage to me. [[I’m going to be fine.]]

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/55ee50122b64e41a594d53185e61b37a.png"/></center> Besides, [[it’s not like it’s anything I didn’t deserve.]]

|more>[] (live: 2s)[ (replace: ?more)[////[[I wake up, and as it turns out, things still suck.]]////] (stop:) ]

A good 20% of my face still looks like roadkill. I can feel a dull ache in my cheek every time my heart beats. [[Calliope is gone.]]

That’s to say, she’s gone to work. We’ve only recently started taking hours at the same time, and we had gotten into a nice routine of going in together, but, well, I guess reporting in early was preferable to [[spending any more time around me than she had to.]]

I mean, it’s not like I can blame her. But neither of us own a car— we take the subway. And like, whatever, I get it. People just //have// to give their opinion whenever they see a Mexican guy in public. I’m not a stranger to uncomfortable shifts in posture, or mothers pulling their children closer at the sight of me, or assorted stares, or glares, or barely-lowered conversations about //[[goodness, if those Hispanics have to come to this country and steal my hard-working son’s job, they could at least try to look a little more appreciative of the fact they get to live here—]]//

What I’m saying is, on a good day I stick out like a stabbed thumb. [[The black eye isn’t really helping.]]

So, whatever. I sit on a subway and people don’t even bother pretending not to gawk at the big ugly thug in the car. I arrive at work and sit at my desk and my coworkers do their best to pretend they don’t notice the big ugly thug in the office. Well, [[most of them.]]

“Jeezus.” A voice unfurls next to my ear, silky and warm on each syllable. “[[You look like shit.]]”

“Yeah, Foxface, someone jumped me last night. What’s your excuse?” <center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/fbc5026b4b71dbec6c92986086dea1a7.png"/></center> Foxface— //Mitsuko// laughs melodiously as they lean over my the low wall of my desk. Mitsuko Mitsune is a slender Type Argus Excentric with nice hair and vulpine eyes, hence the codename (which, in my defense, they had way before I ever came around). They’re beautiful, charming, and witty. They’re also one of the most aggravating, haughty little assholes I’ve ever met, and the feeling is basically mutual. As such, [[Mitsuko’s one of the only people I really consider a close friend.]] (I once admitted to Calliope that, if I had never met her, I probably would have asked Mitsuko out at some point. I then asked her to swear to take that to her grave, because if Mitsuko ever heard a whiff of that, I, Would, NEVER, Hear The End Of It.)

“Little birdie told me Miss Sthenos came in early today.” Their tone is jaunty and casual, but their eyes watch me carefully, and surprisingly enough, not unkindly. “Callie looked… tired. I thought about asking if she was doing okay, but she left pretty quick— business with Evyra, I guess. I’m kinda jealous— it’s so nice out right now, but I’m stuck with desk duty today like you.” “Wow, AWESOME! You know, I was really worried for a sec that the black eye wasn’t going to make things difficult enough today, thank god you showed up! You’re a real lifesaver, Foxface.” They laugh… but for a moment, [[their eyes go narrow.]]

“…so, jumped, huh?” “Wasn’t fucking jacked.” Mitsuko snorts. “If it means anything to you, I’m glad you were able to get away with just a black eye.” “Aww, Foxface, I think I felt my heart melt—” <center> [[THUNK.]] </center>

We both start in unison, and a couple of heads poke up from the neighboring desks at the sound. “…What was...” <center>THUNK.</center> This time it’s louder, and it’s more clear where it came from. All eyes turn to the air vent. A couple of people groan. “God. The fucking raccoons again?” “I thought the exterminator guy said all of them were gone…” “[[Should someone tell Evyra?]]”

“I mean, we COULD do that…” Mitsuko speaks above all of us. “But we do have [[someone]] whose ability is perfectly suited for detecting, hunting and catching pests!

Oh, Jesus. “Oh, Jesus—” “I told you hun, you can call me Mitsuko.” Mitsuko claps a hand on my shoulder, smiling widely. “Now go on and get to work, and try to finish everything before noon, okay? At lunch time [[we can deal with our little problem.]]”

“Foxface, come the fuck on—” “I’m sure Evyra— and her //pupil//— will be very happy to know you took to initiative to help the workplace!” Mitsuko lowers their voice to something a little less syrupy-fake. “[[And I’ll help you too, okay? So quit the pouty act.]]”

Literally the last thing I want to do today is play Fox and The Hound with a couple of rodents, but something about the weight of everyone’s eyes on me is making me feel more compliant than usual. Christ, I thought everyone trying to ignore me was bad enough, but I’d give anything to trade that back for the feeling of an entire office staring at me. “It would be easier, Diego…” “They’ll probably be mad if they have to call the exterminator back.” “Holy crap, what happened to his eye?” “Karen, keep it down!!!” “Foxface,” I chirp through gritted teeth, “[[I take back what I said about my heart melting.]]”

[[==>->fourhors]]

But four hours later, my morning’s worth of paperwork is filed, and I’m in the janitor’s closet, arms crossed, finger tapping the edge of my phone. I’m glaring as hard as I can at the words //be there in a sec Gogo :)// , and it takes me a moment to register the door’s opened. “[[Took you long enough, Foxface—]]”

“My name is Calliope.” I nearly jerk out of my skin. “[[Sh—]]!”

The two of us stare at each other. "You're back." She nods. "I"m back." “[[…did Mitsuko tell you to come here.]]”

Calliope frowns. “They texted me an hour or so ago, they said they needed my help when we were finished, that there might have still been a few raccoons in the vent?” I close my eyes for a long second and inhale. “Great. Awesome. Now they’re a fucking relationship counselor.” “What?” I sigh before I can stop myself, and [[Calliope closes again.]] “Oh… you were joking.”

Astounding! Nice work, Diego! You managed to make your girlfriend feel even shittier without even trying! “Callie—I didn’t— it’s fine, I just—” Calliope looks up at the vent. “What should we do about [[the raccoons?]]”

“I…” I don’t have the heart to tell her there’s a good chance that the “raccoons” were actually a part of Mitsuko’s hare-brained scheme. The more I think about it, the more I realize it would have been shockingly easy for them to use their powers to make suspicious sounds in the vent. “… why don’t I try catching their scent, see if I can figure out where they are, and then we’ll go from there.” She eyes me as I start to shrug off my jacket. “Are you going to climb in there?” I laugh a little balefully. “Well not in THIS body, obviously. I think Fox— Mitsuko’s plan was for me to go hellhound and try [[sniffing them out.]]”

//Sniffing out the non-existent raccoons,// I remind myself. //Going along with the Schrodinger’s Raccoon plan, in some miserable hope I can take the opportunity to reconcile with my girlfriend, who I cussed out, because she dared to be worried about me getting my stupid ass in a fight.// A thug, an idiot, an asshole, an ungrateful immigrant, and now a pretty-much literal bloodhound. I was building up a serious resume for myself. “Diego?” Even with my eyes on the floor I can practically hear that little wrinkled furrow she always gets between her eyebrows when she’s worried. “[[Are you—?]]”

“I’m—” I laugh tonelessly, dragging my hand down my face. “Sorry, I just— I’m fine, let me just… take care of this.” The weight of her gaze on me is a hundred times, countless times heavier than a subway full of strangers or an office full of coworkers. I close my eyes tight, trying to forget it all— the stares, the throb of pain in my skull, the memory of last night— I clear my mind of everything but a single shape. And slowly, I begin to change. And just as my bones begin to creak and shift, I laugh internally. [[At least this is the one thing I can’t fuck up.]]

<center>[[CURRENTLY]]</center>

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/218b30189a54bb55dba333dbb022b4d4.png"/></center> [[==>->wtf2]]

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/e35d344b27ee4d2f9aab768583b5c9a8.png"/></center> [[==>->wtf3]]

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/eb57ebbcc347e6dcb206a31691dedd9b.png"/></center> [[==>->wtf4]]

The words don’t come from my canine muzzle— all wrong, far too short and squat and squashed against my face— but from a mouth I hadn’t even felt open on the back of my neck. My neck— way too close to my shoulders, far too small, too close to the ground, spine too short, legs too stumpy, too fucking //small//, almost [[like a]]—

“…a Pomeranian.” “You look like a Pomeranian.” Calliope’s voice is almost adorably baffled, and I want to laugh, I want to scream, because even if it’s not quite right, even if this shouldn’t be possible at all, she’s not off. The “hellhound” that looks back at me from the mirror— my normal canine form, the same wolf-like snout and ears, the same fluffy vulpine tail, but comically squashed and shrunk as if it a child tried to imagine what it looked like as a puppy— the dog that looks back at me now is not exactly, but almost perfectly, undeniably, basically, [[a Pomeranian.]]

“…what the //fuck.//” And I’m already changing back. “No. Fuck this. //Fuck// this. Fuck this shithole day, fuck everrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…” I don’t stop talking, even as my stretching mouth becomes too mangled for legible words. “Di-Diego, it’s alright—” As this has gone on, Calliope has stood to the side, confused, but not nearly as freaked out as I would have expected. “I think I understand— this is actually pretty common for Type Anima, a lot of them are able to vary [[the size of their animal forms—]]”

The moment my normal mouth comes back I’m talking again. “Yeah, and I’m not fucking one of them.” “Diego, it’s normal,” and Christ alive, she almost looks amused. “You probably just didn’t realize you could do it, there’s nothing wrong with [[a smaller form—]]”

“It’s not—” And all of a sudden I’m human again, faster than I’ve ever transformed, and my fists are shaking at my sides. “NORMAL, Red!” I jerk my head towards her. “That was not MY body. I want my own normal, stupid freakshow dog body— and Jesus, while I’m at it, I want the universe to stop dropping bullshit on me! I want everyone to stop fucking GAWKING at me like I’m a wild animal—” I barely even know what’s coming out of my mouth now, “or like I’m going to kill their kid, I want to stop being every— //literally//, every fucking thing everyone expects me to be when they see me, I want to stop yelling at you because I can’t stop being such an emotionally stunted shithead, [[I want to stop being scared—!]]”

[[My voice breaks.]]

I clamp a hand over my eyes. My heart feels like a slab of raw meat thudding dully against my ribcage, and with every throb I can feel a spark of pain around my eyesocket. The room is spinning, and the space between me and Calliope has somehow stretched to miles. [[And with a single step she crosses it.]]

“Diego—” “No—” I hold up a hand, and her fingers freeze an inch from my cheek. “Please, just… I’m sorry.” And for what feels like the first time in years, I force myself to look at her in the eye. “I’m sorry,” I say it again, and I try to make every syllable sound like it. “I’m sorry, Calliope, I just… I need to go home. I need to go. “[[I need to get out of here.]]”

Somewhere far behind me, I’m aware of Mitsuko jumping out of the sudden wild arc of the door, a sputter of //Jesus Christ what HAPPENED—// walls of words and voices, well-meaning eyes blurring to meaningless color and sound, sunlight hits my face like a slap as linoleum gives way to pavement, and [[I walk, I bolt, I—]]

I run. I run, face burning, throat grasping for air like I’m trying not to drown. I run too fast for eyes to catch me. I run and picture my body becoming smaller, sleeker. [[imagine becoming nothing but light and motion. ]]

I become nothing but light and motion. [[I become nothing.]]

I am nothing— or I am small enough to pass for nothing, and it is enough. The world is quiet sunlight, and I drift through it like dust. There is noise, but it is gentle. There is shape, but it is soft. I drift closer, and nothing changes. None of the people jerk away. None of the voices go low and hostile. Nothing changes. [[It's amazing.]]

It’s amazing. It’s too much. I shudder, and for a second I’m afraid even that will be enough to make everything crumble. And the shapes are so big, [[and the sound is so deep, vibrating in my bones—]]

And I’m embraced. A hundred arms, a thousand arms, an eternity of arms envelope me. I’m covered by arms, concealed by arms— skin the color of autumn leaves and impossibly soft. I’m embraced, and the warmth is more awesome and tender than anything I’ve ever known. The arms are massive, and they’re countless— endless enough to block out the sun. [[But I am not afraid.]]

I am small. I am safe. [[I-]]

|more>[] (live: 2s)[ (replace: ?more)[//[["Diego?"]]//] (stop:) ]

I jolt. An upside-down Calliope stares down at me. The ceiling fan is turning slow circles behind her head, and the light in the room is starting to go orange. “Wh—” I sit up, wincing as my face gives another halfhearted throb. “[[Gh— what time—]]”

“It’s about five-thirty PM.” Calliope’s voice is casually cautious, and whatever scrap of a hope I had that maybe I had dreamed the last half-day is quickly reduced to dust. “Did you come straight home after,” and there’s an infinitesimal pause, “leaving work.” I massage my temples. “I… yeah, I guess I did.” She shrugs her bag onto the table without looking at me. “I told Evyra that you weren’t feeling well and had to take the rest of the day off. She told me to look after you. Mitsuko did too, but then they said ‘I mean, don’t tell him I SAID that.’” Calliope pauses for a moment, the edge of her lip twisting a bit. “Did you… walk? When you came home? Or did you take the subway?” “…I…” And I laugh thickly, because I don’t //remember//. “The subway, [[I guess.]]”

It feels like an entire apartment’s worth of air is weighing down on us. Calliope stands stiffly at the kitchen table, facing away from me, before she straightens her shoulders. “Well, I’m going to go by the corner store and get what I can before it gets too late.” She moves around the couch to the kitchen, her gaze never dropping to meet mine. “Evyra told me she’d probably call later tonight to check on, so be prepared—” “[[Calliope—]]”

She stops, her hair rippling in the still air. “…Yes?” > “[[I’m sorry.]]” > “[[Remember to get the ice pack.]]”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry about…” I drag my palm down my face, mapping the broken capillaries encircling my eye. “About everything. I’m sorry for freaking out and yelling at you last night— about freaking out and yelling AGAIN at work and just…” I exhale. “For saying all that weird shit and just… being weird. Last night got, uh, really fucked up, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were only trying to help, and you’re always so… you’re really understanding, and…” To my horror I actually feel a little misty-eyed. I gulp hastily. “[[I just…]]”

"...make sure to remember that ice pack, okay?" I chuckle weakly, pointing to my eye. "[[I really want to eventually use this eye again, you know?]]"

[[Calliope stares at me.]]

Just when I start thinking that maybe that might have been the wrong thing to say, she turns neatly on her heel. "Okay. I won't forget." "Um, have a good time-" "Okay." [[The door shuts like a fist clenching.]]

I reach out after her, entirely too late, and just let my hand drop. Flopping back on the couch, I groan, and then groan louder as the noise makes my bruises twinge. "Fuck," I mutter. I've been in this apartment on my own plenty of times, but somehow, this time, [[the silence stings like it never has before.]]

''<center> ENDING 1: COLD SHOULDER </center>'' ''//BRR. THAT COULD HAVE GONE BETTER. MAYBE TRY GIVING IT ANOTHER GO?//'' //(link:"TRY AGAIN?")[(goto:"FIRST")]//

“Diego—” She finally turns back to look at me, and this time I feel like I really might cry, because I have never seen her eyes look that soft before. I guess I must look surprised or something, because something like self-consciousness flickers across her face before she reigns it in, eyes going neutral and flat again. “Calli-” Her hands fold primly in front of her, as neat as a paper crane. “[[Diego, would you like to come with me?]]”

I have to work through that one a bit. “I… sorry?” “Would you like to come with me to the corner store, but would you also like to come with me to the park? I was already planning to stop by quickly to make sure there was no returning ECCO, and you’re always good at finding them, and it would— be a good opportunity, since…” She inhales. “Because of your new form.” “My…” I stare at her, and finally it clicks into place. “My new form? You mean the p- uh, [[what happened this morning?]]”

“As you told me before,” she goes on, hands still clasped like she’s giving a speech, “your abilities manifested for you an older-than-average age, so it probably isn’t abnormal as it seems that you’ve manifested a variation this late in your life, and I said before, it is not unheard of or even uncommon for Type Animas to be able to vary their size in their animal form. I think a smaller form might have benefits, such as maneuverability and being able to access smaller spaces than even your standard Hellhound form can’t access. I think this would be an excellent opportunity for you to test it out in an area with a relatively low probability of danger. What do you say?” I blink. She blushes. “[[…what do you say?]]”

“Calliope, let’s,” I hold up a hand, “Just, hold on, let’s take a step back.” “Do you not think it’s a good idea?” “It’s not... a //bad// idea, and, yeah, okay, I get that a smaller form can have advantages, [[it’s just…]]”

“Just?” It’s just that I fucking hate yappy little lapdogs like poms. “[[I don’t want to be weak.]]”

It takes everything I have to not clap a hand over my mouth. Where the FUCK did that come from? “I-I mean,” I sputter, “I don’t know if a Pom— a dog, if a dog that small will really be that good for taking down ECCO, you know? Even if I’m smaller, lighter, my legs were a lot shorter in that form— and I probably won’t really be that strong, I’ll be a lot more fragile, I won’t be able to take a lot of hits, and I mean that’s really the one advantage of being like, big as I am,” Holy shit, no, no, do not fucking bring your dipshit useless body issues into this you MORON— “being able to shrug off injuries, and the same goes for the Hellhound form and, and in that, smaller form, I’d be…in a [[lot more danger.]]”

Overhead I can hear the ceiling fan click faintly with every rotation. [[I look for shapes in the carpet.]]

“…well…” Calliope’s voice is slow and careful, and I know she’s trying as hard as she can to think about every word she chooses. “Then... then let me take the big hits. If anything goes wrong, if there are any ECCO that are particularly hostile, I’ll absolutely be able to cover you.” “I know— and like,” and I look up at her. “It’s not like I doubt you, at all, but it’s… unfair, isn’t it? It’s unfair to force you to be responsible for looking after yourself AND me.” “Then I’ll choose to be responsible.” “[[…huh?]]”

She straightens her shoulders and sets her face firm. “I was the one who invited you, wasn’t I? You aren’t forcing me to do anything. You shouldn’t have to feel guilty about that at all. This was my idea, so your safety will be my responsibility— my priority.” I can’t help but crack a smile at that. “Your safety is a pretty big priority too.” Calliope shrugs jokingly. [[I hope.]]

“Diego, my point is…” She leans close. “If you want to do this… you should have the peace of mind to try this experience out without fear. I don’t want you to worry…” Her eyes drift for a moment. “To worry for your safety, or about… anything else that might be stressing you out. This will be a good exercise to try out a different application of your abilities, as well as— um, rather…” A little lock of hair hanging by her chin curls self-consciously. “This um, exercise will be more effective if your mind is clear and free of stress… so please, just leave everything to me. [[Let me worry about all the important things, and allow yourself focus on this.]]”

After a few moments, she clears her throat a little. “Um, that is to say, if you want to try this out. It is your choice. I, uh, think you should try it, but… it’s your choice.” She rubs one of her arms. “So... do you want to try it?” The million dollar question. > [[I'll do it.]] > [[I won't do it.]]

"[[...->goodchoice]]"

"..." I sigh, rubbing the skin by my bruise. "Calliope, I like, appreciate the sentiment, but I just... I don't think it's a good idea. I dunno, even if I wanted to try that form some more, I just... I really, really don't feel like going out right now." "... oh." "I can like, go by the park before work tomorrow, give it a glance, but right now, I just..." "No, I... I understand." She grips her arms, but not with the lifeline crush she had last night. "[[You need rest.]]"

I try my best to flash her a smile. "Believe me, I love spending time with you, it just... maybe some other time. Other circumstances." She nods. "Less... pomeranian circumstances." "Uh, yeah, you could say that." She looks faintly disappointed, but keeps her back straight. "Right. Alright... well, then I'll get going." "Yeah. Have a good time." "Okay." [[The door closes quietly behind her.]]

Sighing, I flop back on the couch, closing my eyes. That was that. At least I got the chance to apologize to her. But still, there's something nagging at me at the back of my head. Should I have taken that offer? Should I.... Ugh. I'm probably going to be thinking about this the rest of the right. I roll over, plopping my face on cool sofa cushion. On my back, I can feel the window pouring in a patch of warm sunlight. I do my best to slow my breathing, and as silly as it feels, I hope against hope I can find that strange dream again. [[I fall asleep with thoughts of quiet, gentle arms.]]

''<center> ENDING 2: THE GAME'S CALLED "POM SIMULATOR 9000" </center>'' ''//HEY BUDDY, I'M THE LAST PERSON TO JUDGE SOMEONE WHO WANTS SPEND A QUIET EVENING AT HOME. BUT UH... WE CAN'T DO MUCH POM SIMULATING IF THERE'S NO POMS. MAYBE YOU WANNA GIVE THAT ANOTHER GO? //'' //(link:"TRY AGAIN?")[(goto:"FIRST")]//

"[[Alright.]]"

|more>[] (live: 2s)[ (replace: ?more)[////[[God, we need someone to clean these damn sidewalks.]]////] (stop:) ]

That probably sketches a pretty pessimistic picture of my mind, but that’s the first thing I notice. I’m only a little bit bigger than a football, so I’m getting up way more close and personal than I ever wanted to be to the familiar route I walk almost every day. And it’s not like the first time I’ve done this as a dog, but my normal canine form is a little more than three foot tall at the shoulder. Sure, that’s a pretty big downgrade from my usual 6’4’’, but this is a kind of shortness I could never imagine. I’m maybe a foot tall, and I think it’s mainly my ears bringing me up to the “maybe.” My body is— my body is basically the shape of a stuffed animal, though picking out a “shape” is hard with all the fur. I’m fluffy. I’m really fluffy. From my ears to the tip of my ridiculous cartoon drawing of a tail (puffed out instead of curled in, one of several small things betraying the fact I’m not a real Pomeranian). The tail’s roughly half the length of my entire body. Everything else is small. I’m small. Jesus Christ, [[I am fucking small.]]

“PUPPY!” My better-than-human hearing brings the little girl’s squeak to a high shriek as she passes and points, and I nearly freak out as I process how goddamn huge she looks to me. Her outstretched hand could easily turn my head into mush, like some deathtrap from a Saw movie. Thankfully her mother keeps a firm grip on the other deathtrap. “Don’t bother them, honey,” she murmurs, and I say a quick mental thank you, making sure to stay close to Calliope. It’s actually more complicated than it seems, walking at a steady enough pace to keep in time with her steps while not letting the leash go slack enough to [[potentially trip her.]]

… Okay, yeah, I know. The whole “being-walked-on-a-leash-by-your-girlfriend” thing probably… sounds a bit weird. Is. It is weird. I’m the one who does it and it still feels pretty weird. The thing is, I’m technically not supposed to do the whole shapeshifting thing in public. I mean, I can’t even complain in my case. Even if displaying your Excentric abilities in public wasn’t frowned upon (if not flatout illegal in a lot of places) transformation isn’t exactly… pretty. Shifting at home just cuts out a very messy step, as well as a lot of screaming and horrified children. But it does also mean I have to pretend to just be a normal dog whenever we “scout” a place off-hours. I don’t know. It’s not as bad as it probably sounds. I’ve had a lot of practice pretending to be a dog. The leash and collar is still kind of new, but you can get used to pretty weird stuff. Though, this time around, the collar was a little too big, so [[we had to improvise.]]

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/9c86a2b11db98a0516d9b5d1c1a8c17b.png"/></center> “We’re here,” Calliope murmurs, a few seconds after I began to pick up all the telltale smells. Sun-warmed grass. Flowers beginning to poke out to meet spring. The earthy scent of trees— even the dead wood of the benches. My ears perk a little, and I begin to scamper [[a bit faster.]]

It’s an average-sized park. A few pieces of playground equipment, some trees, some bushes, some water fountains, a track for joggers, and a nice fountain right in the middle to bring it together. It’s been a (grass) target for ECCO infestations in the past, and I’ve memorized all the (grass) typical spots they’ve appeared in the past. I could probably lead us through all of ([[grass]]) them with my eyes closed.

… There’s grass. There’s grass, whatever. There’s grass all over the park. It’s just regular grass. It’s not like I want to flop down on it or anyth I flop down on the grass and [[roll on my back.]]

I roll, roll, roll, kicking my goofy little legs towards the sun. The sky spreads above me, more impossibly vast than it’s ever looked. The slightly-sour smell of grass is everywhere, only broken up by the occasional trace of a dandelion or stray flower. The smell of the beginning of spring. It’s like smelling all of the new life is infecting me with energy, making my blood rush and my heart chug like [[an airplane engine—]]

I stop, and stand up with as much dignity as a Pomeranian can muster. Calliope watches, apparently having squatted down while I was… I give a polite little canine cough. She looks at me curiously. “What? [[You didn’t have to stop.]]”

I cock my head at her. //Weren’t we supposed to be here for a reason?// “…Oh. Yes, right, the ECCO.” Calliope clears her throat. “Well, uh, let’s start with all the usual places, then.” We saunter like [[the professionals]] we are.

Our first stop is a particularly large oak tree. It’s old and twisted, and most important, hollow. We’ve found ECCO hiding in the trunk a few times… but as we approach it, right away, [[I can tell there’s the tree’s empty.]]

The smell of ECCO is distinct, and I can’t pick up even an old trace of it today. But I can pick up the trace of something esquirrelsquirrelsquirrelsquirrelSQUIRRELSQUIRRELSQUIRREL Even after the little rodent scampers into the cover of leaves far ahead I can’t help yapping after its tail. I actually manage to make it a couple of feet up the bent body of the tree before I get a hold of myself (and gravity [[gets a hold of me]]).

Mortified, I slide down the trunk with a pathetic little scrap of my claws. Thank god for all the fur, because my face feels like it’s on fire. But when I turn to Calliope, she doesn’t look annoyed or irritated— or, as annoyed or irritated as she ever looks, I guess. She seems… happy. Like, visibly happy. She stands relaxed, hands perched in her pockets, that soft look in her eyes again, her lips curved into a very slight crescent. She looks at me as if she just watched me hang every single star in the sky. [[My face casually goes from “burning” to “blazing.”]]

After a moment, she realizes that I’ve lost interest in my target. “Oh. Uh, good job. I mean, that wasn’t an ECCO I guess, but that was a fairly good attempt at chasing a squirrel.” “//Arf//?” I tilt my head. If I had proper eyebrows I’d be cocking them. “Well, the most important thing is this area is safe. Uh... why don’t we continue?” “//Bork…//” [[I try to sound as suspicious as I feel.]]

So our little ECCO hunt continues, surprisingly light on the “hunting” part. Calliope seems intent on not only taking the longest routes through the park, but also standing aside while I get the urge to roll around or bark at a grasshopper or smell everything I can get my dopey little snout at. I feel like I should maybe give her a tiny yip to remember to try and keep my dog pea-brain on task (or at the very least try not to give into my not-Pomeranian instincts) [[but…]]

But… Well, I kind of don’t want to. I used to use my Hellhound form primarily as a means of survival whenever it would be a bigger boon to me than my human body (like, just as an example, replacing myself with a dog when there were a couple of suspicious cops in the area). Then when I joined the Bureau, it turned into a strategy to make my job a little easier. Whether it was my own survival or my mission, I usually was too laser-focused on bigger things to let myself sink into the more playful part of my canine brain. And now, in this new body—familiar enough to be comfortable, yet different enough to feel interesting— and following Calliope’s advice, letting myself forget about [[all the bigger things on my mind…]]

Something weird happens. [[I start having fun.]]

We walk around the park, ostensibly still trying to sniff out ECCO, but I find myself preoccupied with other things. My senses are strumming with all the sound and scent all around us— even my vision, a downgrade from my human eyes, picks up new things with my new point of view. [[We walk. We scout.]]

I go running after every wild animal I can find. Catching a squirrel is an impossible dream, but the fun is in seeing them scamper, all the adrenaline in their bodies turning them into little lightning sparks covered in fur. Birds are even more fun because of the sound. Once, I’m able to catch a whole flock of pigeons off-guard. The motion of their wings beating is almost music, every ruffle and movement of feather and wings filling my body to its brim. [[I watch their shadows overlap into unearthly shapes on the sidewalk.]]

I inspect other dogs with their owners— typically from a distance. My nose sorts through every subtlety and note to inform my mind things I couldn’t possibly process as human. Breed. Age. Lifestyle. With the people there’s even more things to sort through. The scratchy plastic flower scents of soaps and perfume. The metal twang of piercings and jewelry. Every bit of clothing along has its own unique smell, the fragments of plants and animal furs lingering in the thread, [[even when run through countless strange machines and hands.]]

I scamper through just about every square inch of grass I can find, and go darting after whatever flash of insect life I can find. Grasshoppers are a fantastic puzzle, vanishing into thin air with a kick of their legs, leaving me to turn every which way through the grass and sniff until I can find them again, starting the game all over again. Spiders are strange little twitches of movement and limb, darting and halting, darting and halting. Lizards are even better with their slippery gallop, bigger, with bulgy-er eyes, their scaly skin [[a whole new kind of scent entirely.]]

At one point I see a butterfly and nearly lose my damn gourd because it keeps just far away to keep out of my snapping mouth, but ONLY just. I turn giddy, dizzy circles round and round, leaping and yapping and chomping again and again at empty air, knowing for a fact that I’m never going to catch that fluttery little fucker, [[and I don’t even care.]]

Somewhere behind me is my human mind, knowing I look absolutely ridiculous Even further behind is all the things I’m worried about, every responsibility and fear shouting at me, trying to make me remember, And I just [[don’t care.]]

How could I ignore all this? How could I not be happy [[in a world this full of life?]]

The butterfly finally gets bored of teasing me and flies off, and I finally collapse on my back, desperately panting for air, legs still giving little kicks every once in a while. With the sky spinning, the world starting to glow gold in the fading light of the afternoon, with countless scents and sounds all around me, the single thing I wish for, in this moment, is my voice. Because at this moment, if I was a human, [[I would be overflowing with laughter.]]

A shadow falls over me. Same soft eyes. Same fond little smile. She says: “[[Are you thirsty?]]”

[[==>->fountain]]

While the city could do a better job in maintain the roads and sidewalks, I have to at least give them props for proper upkeep of the parks. Especially in regards to their newest move: installing water fountains that have a mechanism specifically for letting dogs drink. Obviously, I’m more than a little thankful for that part of the deal right now. With Calliope’s help, I walk on somewhat shaky legs to the nearest fountain, still a little wired on all the adrenaline and silent not-laughter. The moment I plunge my snout into the cold torrent of water is like a blessing from God. I’m so involved in slurping up as much water as my tongue can catch I don’t even notice the women approaching. “Ohhhh my gosh!” "[[He's so cute!]]"

I cough and get a few liters of water all over myself. I turn away from the spout to find three women with ponytails and sweatpants looking down at me— they must be doing some sort of group workout thing. Calliope seems to have been taken a little off guard by them too. “Oh, um, thank you. I mean—” She fiddles with a bit of hair spilling over her shoulder, probably to make sure it doesn’t accidentally start squirming in public. “On //his// behalf.” She gestures to me, and the ladies giggle, mistaking her politeness for a joke. “Well, he is a handsome little guy,” one of the women says. “[[What’s his name?]]”

“Diego,” Calliope blurts, and a quick wince flashes over her face. We kind of came to an agreement ages ago that she’d come up for a fake name for my dog form— it’d probably look suspicious to if the girl who sometimes walked a weird dog happened to also sometimes walk with a weird boy with the same name. “He, um—” The women look at her again and she flusters. “He’s like… a Pomeranian. I think.” For the first time in a while, my good mood fades a little. Calliope doesn’t do very well with strangers and often beats herself up when she knows she’s acted a little awkward. I walk to her side and bump my head against her ankle, hoping that maybe I can help her relax a little. She stoops down in a surprisingly graceful move [[to—]]

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/f5048c148839dc84984433ce04f8a2dc.png"/></center> [[Wha-]]

Calliope stands again, holding me carefully, one hand supporting my lower half, one on my front. It’s the equivalent of suddenly being yanked about thirty feet in the air, held only by a giant. A slightly nervous giant. My lower paws kick, I squirm a little. I should be terrified out of my mind— [[I think part of me is.]]

Yet… most of me isn’t. Despite all the nerves on her end, Calliope’s hands are firm, yet gentle. I’ve always liked her hands, fingers thin to the point of being a little bony, yet strong. Now they’re not only strong, they’re big enough to support me easily— hell, I’m pretty sure she could support me in a single palm, if she were careful enough. Her hands aren’t just big to me in this state— they’re massive. If the fear of being this high up should have terrified me, being in the grasp of someone this mind-bogglingly colossal to me should have left me [[a whimpering, yelping mess.]]

But… But it doesn’t. I’m not. [[I feel safe.]]

“—pet him, if you like.” I hadn’t even been aware of her talking while my mind had processed what was happening. “He likes being pet by pretty girls,” she adds and, wow, okay, even facing away from her I can hear the quirk of her lip in her voice. I huff a little, half-wondering why she bothered letting me run around without the leash if she was just going to [[DRAG ME LIKE THIS.]]

And suddenly I can’t wonder anything. [[Because a massive hand is tickling me under my chin.]]

“Aww, hello Diego~ Aren’t you a handsome boy~” [[Uh.]]

“Aww, look how happy he looks!” Another hand follows up, taking note to give me a few good, deep scratches behind my ear with a set of elegantly manicured nails. “[[You’re so well-behaved aren’t you~?]]”

[[Oh. Oh wow. Okay.]]

“Yeah he’s so calm, isn’t he? My dog always freaks out around new people.” The third woman carefully massages my scalp with her fingers. “[[You’re such a good boy Diego~]]”

Okay. Okay okay okay. I don’t hate this. This is. Good. It’s nice. [[It’s pretty nice.]]

Calliope’s voice sounds strangely far away to me. “Would you like to hold him? [[I think he might let you.]]”

The women pass me among each other, and that’s a sentence I don’t think I ever could have imagined saying about myself this morning, or any other point of my life. But I am passed around, and petted, and praised. “[[Aren’t you a sweetheart~?]]”

I’m stroked by what feels like endless affectionate little touches. I’m acutely aware of every nerve in my body going electric with every loving hand on me. Fingers- unfamiliar, but not unfriendly- sink into my fur and knead at me like they’re trying to rub every last ounce of tension out of my body. “[[You’re soooo good~]]”

For a moment I swear to God I’m going to melt out of their arms. One by one every muscle in my body goes liquid, utterly slack and sated. My eyelids sink along with them, in a state between awareness and sleep as I’m showered with touch and warmth, again and again and again… “Aww. poor little guy, [[he looks tuckered out…]]”

“Haha, we should kind of get back, shouldn’t we?” “Yeah, I want to catch a bus before it gets too dark— nice meeting you!” A laugh. “[[Thanks for letting us bother your dog.]]”

“Somehow, I don’t think he was bothered.” Calliope’s voice is low and amused next to my ear. Somewhere along the line, without me realizing, I had been passed back to her. I’m vaguely aware of the women’s footsteps growing [[softer in the distance.]]

“…//were// you bothered?” Calliope carefully turns me in her arms to look at me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t really ask, I just thought, you’ve liked being petted in the past… [[um, did you enjoy that?]]”

I hang limply in her arms, utterly blissed out. My tongue hangs out of my mouth. My paws still occasionally give little twitches at the memory of every touch. “…I am taking a carefully calculated guess, and that guess is that you enjoyed that.” [[I nod.]]

“Hmm.” She holds me there for a moment as I try to regain my bearings. “Good,” she murmurs… and after a brief pause, she gently brings me up to press her cheek against my head. “You’re, um, very cute in this form.” She only stays there a moment before pulling me back. “I thought I should probably tell you that.” I smile, as much as a dog can smile. Not just because now, I’m definitely, a hundred percent sure of what I’ve suspected for a while. [[I smile because I feel utterly at peace.]]

After a few seconds of silence, held still in the descending spring evening, she starts to walk. “It //is// getting late,” she murmurs. “We should probably go to the grocery before it gets too dark.” Calliope heads back towards the way we came, either forgetting or not bothering to set me on the ground. “I want to get at least a few things for tonight.” Laying in her arms, I finally get enough of a hold of myself to use my throat again. “//Baf.//” “What?” She looks down at me. “Is something wrong?” I turn my snout down and give her a pointed look. “…oh, are you worried about the ECCO?” She winds a finger through her hair again. “Well, we did a pretty wide sweep of the park. And I made sure to double-check places where you were, ah, distracted. So I think we can consider this place safe for the moment.” “[[You’re really bad at being shrewd, Miss Sthenos.]]”

That actually makes Calliope halt for a few seconds— I think I see a bit of her hair fluff up a bit. She looks down at me, eyes going wide for a second. It look as smug as a Pomeranian can look. “…My name is Calliope.” Quick as a flash, she regains her composure. “And dogs don’t talk.” “Who’s talking?” I laugh right before as the mouth on my neck seals up once more into [[nothing but fur.]]

[[==>->store]]

A little down the street is the familiar tangle of construction that has quite literally divided the neighborhood for the past few months. All the workers are gone for the evening, but Calliope still has to do a little careful maneuvering about the barriers to get to the front of the corner store. After a moment’s consideration, she carefully slides me into her big canvas bag. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen other people do this with their dogs,” she murmurs, securing the strap over her shoulder. “If they kick us out, it’ll be on [[very flimsy foundations.]]”

By the time we make it past the sliding doors my tail is already wagging. It’s not even a big store but the scent alone is making me excited— countless foods from all over the building are reaching out towards me. Even the people, far and few between this late in the day, are interesting islands of variety between the ocean of smell. The harsh light combined with the peppy muzak quietly drifting around my head makes for a weird, floaty feeling of calm. [[It feels almost like I’m drifting.]]

Calliope grabs a basket and starts with the produce section, probably to get the vegetables on display before the staff has to take them down. I prop my paws over the edge of the bag, snout snuffling for interesting smells. Carrots, their scent orange and hard as you’d expect. Lettuce, watery and mild. Peppers, colorful and lively. The air in this section of the store is artificially chilly, tickling my nose and making me sneeze, a comically high-pitched squeak of noise. [[I catch the corner of Calliope’s lip twitching.]]

[[And just as suddenly, it goes tight.]]

I pause, momentarily distracted from the medley of scents. My gaze moves from her face to her hand, in the middle of inspecting the pebbly skin of an avocado. Her joints go tense and clawed, the tendons behind her knuckles becoming so tight that for a second I’m afraid they’ll snap… [[Calliope relaxes.]]

She slowly brings the avocado back to the display, letting it roll down her wrist and land with a thump. Like a mechanical doll, she turns smoothly on her heel and continues to a new section of the produce area. She doesn’t give any sign that anything is out of the ordinary. //Calliope?// At least, that’s what I try to say. Instead it comes out as a very small //[[aurf?]]//

Her chin remains firm and straight, not even bobbing or rising in line with her footsteps. I notice a flicker of movement a bit outside of my field of vision: two young women looking at the apples, their heads turning in tandem to the sound of my voice, eyes going wide when they see me. One smiles and titters to the other, and I remember the women at the park… I think again of being showered by praise and affection and wonder if [[they’ll ask Calliope to-]]

But, no, no, something was wrong with Calliope, wasn’t there? I had to get her attention, get her to step out to some place more private… …but then, she seemed fine now, and if she kept going on, she’d go past those girls [[and…]]

> [[Let Calliope keep going.]] > [[Try to get Calliope’s attention.]]

…Calliope’s a tough girl. And she seems fine now, right? I look over her from head to toe, and nothing seems out of the ordinary. She’s probably just starting to get [[a headache or something.]]

In the back of my head I hear her words: let me worry about everything today. But all I can think about was how painfully tight her fingers had squeezed. Her small smile pulling tight into a strained grimace. [[How could I not worry about her?]]

Calliope had told me to let her worry about everything today, and here I am fretting over something small and silly like a headache. I sigh, shaking my head as Calliope heads for a stand of lemons. There was far more important things to think about, like the warm and bubbly scent of citrus, or [[the cute girls who were heading our way—->fall]]

I whine a little, butting my snout against her arm. Calliope sighs. “Diego, please don’t fuss.” She heads towards a fruit display stand. “I can’t let you walk around in here, so please just let… [[let me…->fall]]”

[[And everything falls.]]

Calliope drops to her right knee like the lower part of her leg has vanished. Her arm shoots out in a mad attempt to catch herself and only ends up in hold of the loose lemons on the display, sending a good seven or eight cascading to the floor along with us. The basket joins them an instant later with a loud plastic crack. She brings her arm up just in time to keep the bag from touching the ground, but the sudden drop makes me feel like all my insides have just hit my feet and bounced back [[up into place.]]

By the time my heart rate starts to slow back to normal, I hear voices. “Miss, are you okay??” The two women, joined by a frantic store clerk. They swarm around Calliope, trying to support her slack shoulders or help her up. I start to bark without thinking, half trying to get them to give her some room, half desperately [[urging her to stand—]]

And she stands. Calliope gets to her feet with a weirdly mechanical speed, with no one’s help but her own. The others stare, wavering anxiously between stepping forward and standing back, before the clerk pipes up. “[[Ma’am, are you-?]]”

“I’m alright, thank you.” Her tone is granite-stiff, words coming out like chips of rock. Her head is still angled weirdly towards the floor. “I’m very sorry.” “Do you need— are you epileptic? Diabetic? Do you need insulin or some-?” “I am fine.” She pulls at the strap of her bag like a lifeline. “I only tripped. [[I just need to get some air.]]”

With ginger, mincing footsteps, Calliope stalks past the others, past the stands, [[past the doors.]]

It’s the tail end of sunset now. The air is starting to get chilly, and I see a streetlamp flicker to life far down the road. Calliope hesitates on the threshold of the store for just a moment, and I can feel the tremor of her hand on her bag. She steps one way, then another, and then finally settles on the edge of the curb only a few feet away. Sitting silently, she bunches her legs as close as she can to her body. Bones and muscle and red cheeks and wide eyes. [[Wide, black eyes, staring at empty air.]]

“Calliope.” Quietly, her hair begins to writhe. I crawl out of the bag, plopping paws first down on her lap. “It’s alright. No one’s around.” I look up at her, hoping I can at least put my wet, dopey puppy eyes to good use, but she still just stares into nothing. “I— are you okay? Are you hurt? [[What happened?]]"

A breeze pushes some flyaway bits of hair by her chin. “I’m fine.” Her lips move slowly, almost mechanical. “I hurt my left ankle while training yesterday. I thought it was doing better. It started aching again, and I wasn’t prepared.” “Why didn’t you say anything about it?” “It was just a small injury. I didn’t even twist it.” She exhales, and the hair hanging by her arms corkscrews in time with it. “I guess it was a little worse off than I thought… but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” Calliope closes her eyes, and her shoulders relax a little. “I’m feeling better. [[Let’s go back inside and finish quickly.]]”

She places her hands on the pavement. > “[[Calliope, wait. Is there something you're not telling me?]]” > “[[Okay, as long as you’re feeling alright. Why don't you try making some new friends to get your mind off things?]]”

“Well, if you’re sure…” “Of course I’m sure,” she says firmly. “I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I couldn’t handle it…” But she pauses. “What… did we need again?” “Uh, the ice pack…” I begin thinking about vegetables, but my mind turns back to the women in the store, distracted. Are they still inside? “[[Stuff for dinner?]]”

Her brow furrows, eyes shuts tight as she tries to remember. “What…” She flexes her hand again like she did in the store. “What did we say we were going to make?” “I don’t think we really specified anything… hell, I honestly don’t care,” I laugh, looking back towards the store, tail beginning to wag again. “As long as we can get something from produce… maybe you can introduce me to [[your cute friends inside.]]”

The minute my tongue hits the word ‘friends’ I suddenly realize that I sound way more like a letch than I meant to. But it’s out of my mouth. And all of a sudden, Calliope is looking down at me with [[an unnamable look on her face.]]

“……………………Er. I mean—” “Alright.” And her face is smooth as suddenly as it had changed.” Let’s go quickly.” Her voice is… strange. I’d almost expect it to be angry or cold, but it isn’t. It’s flat, but… her voice is always a little flat. Now it’s something entirely different. [[Almost still.]]

“Calliope, I didn’t—” “Dogs don’t talk, remember.” She stands up in one motion, shifting me back to the bag in a movement to fast for me to register until she’s done. “[[Remember to close all your mouths.]]”

So we go back inside. Calliope goes straight back to the produce section, but the girls are gone— and to be honest, I’m a little glad. Somehow, I don’t enjoy the scents and sounds as much as I did before. Calliope parses through the vegetables quickly, [[and gets what she needs.]]

[[Calliope goes straight to the meat section, and gets what she needs.]]

[[Calliope goes straight to the dairy section, and gets what she needs.]]

“Thank you, come again.” [[Calliope nods and walks out the door.]]

“Red, hold on.” She lets her eyelids fall shut for a moment, her hair rippling in the cold night air. “…yes?” “Calliope… come on. Cut the crap. [[I know there’s something you’re not telling me.]]”

Calliope walks down the street. Calliope walks to our building. Calliope walks up the stairs. Calliope opens the door to our place. [[Calliope sets the bag on the floor and puts the groceries on the counter.]]

After a few moments of silence, I crawl out of the bag, beginning to shift as soon as my paws hit the floor. When I finally have my mouth back I laugh. “Wow… what a night, huh?” “Yeah.” I look over myself to make sure everything’s back in place, flexing my fingers. “I uh, have to say, your plan worked pretty well. I’m really… really grateful you suggested it, you know? [[Th—]]”

The refrigerator door shuts, a little louder than I’m used to. “Uh— did you already put everything away?” I look over to see the counters bare. “What about dinner? [[I thought you—]]”

“You can make something if you want,” and her voice is back to that weird, uncomfortably calm stillness, but with something else mixed in this time. I realize she sounds tired. She turns to the hallway. “[[I think I want to go to bed early tonight.]]”

I spin to follow her. “What? Why—?” And it’s then I notice two things. Calliope’s hair is limp and straight. No curls, no movement— just heavy and lank, down to her waist. And as my eyes travel lower— “C… Calliope, you’re [[limping.]]”

She supports herself by putting a hand on the wall. “Yes, it still hurts a little. I might need to skip training for a day or two.” “But… you said you hurt your //[[left]]// ankle.”

In the space between the kitchen and hall, she lingers. “Calliope, what’s—” “Goodnight, Diego.” [[Her shadow disappears down the hall.]]

“No, wait Calliope, why aren’t you—?!” The words dry up in my mouth. I can’t pretend I don’t know why. Down the hall, her bedroom door shuts, [[then locks.]]

[[...->baddestend]]

I skip dinner. I suddenly don’t feel hungry at all. I end up laying on the sofa, staring at the swing of the ceiling fan’s blades. I think back to the park, remembering how fun it all was, but the memories keep fading back to Calliope. Her limp hair. The sound of her light, uneven footsteps as she walked away from me, trying as hard as she could not to put weight on her [[right foot.]]

//Tomorrow,// I resolve. Tomorrow, I’ll apologize and I’ll ask what’s really up. Tomorrow I fix this. But even as I think it, even as I’m almost a hundred percent sure Calliope will say she forgives me, like she always does, I can’t help but think I moved something between us. And even if she forgives it, I’m not so sure [[she's going to forget it.]]

Watching the turning shadow of the fan, my eyelids slowly drop. My last thought is of that strange dream I had earlier, and I can’t help but wish I had those arms again to surround me I drift off. [[But my sleep is still and dreamless.]]

''<center> ENDING 3: UH, YIKES </center>'' ''//WOW, OOF. THAT ONE WENT PRETTY BAD, HUH? LISTEN, I KNOW THIS IS A GAME ABOUT ESCAPISM AND EVERYTHING, BUT YOU GOTTA BE OPEN TO HELPING AND LISTENING TOO. GETTING THE LOVE IS GREAT, BUT YOU GOTTA GIVE IT BACK IN RETURN. OR, AT THE VERY LEAST, TRY TO FIND OUT WHAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS VERY CLEARLY NOT TELLING YOU. JUST A THOUGHT.//'' //(link:"UH YEAH I DAMN WELL HOPE YOU'RE GONNA TRY THAT AGAIN")[(goto:"FIRST")]//

I hear the light tap of her fingers drumming against the pavement. “I told you—” “For one thing, you couldn’t even keep your story straight. You slipped on your //right// foot.” [[The tapping stops.]]

I place a paw on the corner of my bandana, wriggling out of it so my mouth is unobscured. “Calliope… please.” Carefully, I crawl across her lap, gently propping my front paws on her waist, as if trying to climb up her body. “[[Tell me what’s wrong.]]”

A street lamp clicks to life, only a few feet away. It cuts Calliope’s body down the center, one part warm and yellow, one part dark and blue. Her eyelashes catch the light, turned near-transparent in the glow. [[She doesn’t open her eyes.]]

“You were so…strange last night. Troubled. Anxious.” Her voice is so soft it has to float down to me. “I said… I was the one who said that I didn’t want you worrying about anything tonight. I wanted to take your mind off the things that were troubling you. But now all I’m doing is making you worry about something else—” “Hey.” I gently bump my head against her. “[[Stop.]]”

The wind picks up. I feel my fur ripple. “Look, it’s not a case of… making me worry or not.” Letting myself slide back down into her lap, I lay down across her legs. “It’s fine if you want to give me some time to relax or whatever, but you shouldn’t do it at the expense of yourself.” I roll over on my side, giving myself one eye to look up at her. “It’s not… fair, you know? We’re… when you’re in a relationship, it can’t just be one person who gets all the benefits. That’s not a relationship. [[For everything you receive, you have to give as much back.]]"

“I’ve got my own shit, yeah? But it doesn’t make whatever you’re dealing with any less important. If you need to tell me something’s wrong, it’s not selfish or anything. This is what I’m here for. That’s what people do when they…” Under all the fuzz I feel my face heat up, and at the last moment I change course. “When they care about each other. How could I honestly say I cared about you if I ignored you, because your problems were ‘less important’ than mine?" “So… look. You said you’d choose to be responsible for me earlier. So now, I want to choose that too. Let me be responsible. Just let me listen— for a few minutes, or for however long you need. That’s what I want. [[That’s what my choice is.]]”

As I speak, her eyes still hang closed. But in the buzz of my silence, after what feels like a week’s worth of stillness, [[she lets them slide open.]]

Calliope’s chin tips up, up to the sky. Above us, past the glow of the lamp, stars are starting to push through the night sky. “…I wasn’t lying. I really did hurt my foot during practice.” “…but… [[that’s not why I fell.]]”

Her shoulders rise and fall. “[[I think my painkillers aren’t working anymore.]]”

[[Ah.]]

How long has it been? It was only… it couldn’t be more than six months ago. //Only// six months ago, plus the six or seven weeks when she… [[I swallow hard.]]

The Janus Incident. A series of crimes and violent encounters. An Excentric with a rare and extremely dangerous ability. We had been trying to find him for a while, and our last encounter had ended with us, quite literally, with the upper hand. We thought we could get him. [[Things… didn’t go so hot.]]

If it hadn’t been for Calliope, neither of us would have made it out. Mangled badly, in incredible pain, she still managed to take him down, but at the cost of an incredible strain on her body. For a while, [[I don’t think any of us thought she would make it.]]

Right. I remember the exact number now: fifty-two. [[Fifty-two days of eternity.]]

… But she woke up. She woke up and was out of the hospital in less than a month. In almost no time her hair was almost back to its original length. And after an unbelievably awkward bit of futzing around, plus some assorted yelling, crying, and hugging, we were actually able to talk about our feelings. We got together. She was alive. [[It was a pretty smooth ending.]]

Except. Except both the injuries and the effects of her “plan” had taken their toll. Permanent nerve damage, Doctor Taiwo said, was a common problem for Type Gorgons. The source of their strength was also their biggest weak point. The damage her hair had received during her childhood had already condemned her to chronic pain by her forties, but the Janus Incident pushed the process ahead [[a couple of decades.]]

Still, I thought everything would be okay. Doctor Taiwo had simply prescribed Calliope a small troop of medications, and she was good as new. I thought she was good as new. She acted as good as new. But… “How… long? [[How long have they not been working?”]]

“Hard to say.” She hooks a finger through a lock of hair hanging down her shoulder, and as she coils it, it catches the lamplight. I can pick out a half dozen different colors: Orange, brown, copper, yellow, white, even a single hair strand that looks almost pink. “Maybe two weeks ago. At first I just thought it was the normal effect of the dosage wearing off, but.” She presses her lips together for a second. “Eventually I realized it just wasn’t working as effectively as before.” “So, what just happened was…” Her hand slows to a halt. “My ankle… most of my lower leg. For a moment, I couldn’t put any weight on it…the pain was almost unbearable.” Finally, she drops her head, but her eyes look past me, to her right foot. “It’s… [[mostly fine now.]] I’ll be able to walk home.”

“[[…This isn’t the first time this has happened, is it?]]”

[[She’s silent.]]

I swallow again. “Yesterday… you didn’t go shopping, but you said it wasn’t because you forgot.” “…it was only for a few moments. I should have gone once it stopped hurting.” “[[Calliope.]]”

The word is as soft as I’ve ever said it. I roll as much as I can, nuzzling my body against her. After a long moment, she lets her hand drop, slowly, all the way from her shoulder to rest gently [[on my head.]]

“I’m sorry.” Her lips barely move. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” I close my eyes as her fingernails begins to dig gentle circles against my fur. “I’m the one who should apologize. I yelled at you for…” Her fingers flex against my neck, and it feels a little bit by being scolded. “But you didn’t know.” “But I could have. If I had been more…” [[Somehow, we both sigh at the same time.]]

“I guess… trying to think of what could have been won’t help us.” “Hmm.” “…” “…” “…but… I’m still sorry. I’m sorry for yelling at you.” “[[…Thank you.]]”

The wind is nice, cool and soothing without making me shiver. Calliope’s nails send tingles up and down my body. As gently as I can, I let my tail thump against her leg. “You’ll go see Doctor Taiwo about the painkillers, right? I’m sure she can help.” “…Yes. I’ll ask her tomorrow.” Her hand comes over to tickle my chin, and I gently lick her palm. I look up just in time to catch her lips twitch into [[a small smile.]] “It’ll be okay,” I say softly.

“Mm.” With two fingers, she discovers a near-perfect spot behind my ears. I put my snout in the air, turning over, legs stiff. She huffs a little, a sound that might almost be a laugh. “Your fur is so soft.” Her other hand joins in, tracing all over my fur. When she scratches my belly, I just about melt into her lap. I chuckle to keep from moaning. “See? You got… to unload, and I’m… still the one getting the better deal out of it.” “You are?” That wry little quirk of her lip again. “I’m having fun too.” “Not… as much as me.” “[[Maybe you can pay me back later.]]”

I nod, eyes drooping closed again. “Right… you can… listen to me… and I’ll pet you…” “Right— [[uh?]]”

We both kind of jerk at that, eyes meeting, then abruptly jumping away. “Ah… well.” I clear my throat. “Anyways, uh… it’s getting kind of late.” “It is.” Calliope glances back over her shoulder, at the store. “Um. Honestly…” “You kind of don’t want to go back into a store where you just caused a big scene?” Gratitude floods her face. “[[I kind of really do not want to go back.]]”

“Haha.” I press my head against her hand again. “It’s cool, I get it. Let’s do something else for dinner, order out— you shouldn’t be walking around on that leg more than you need to, anyways.” “Well…” Calliope crooks her finger on the spot just on top of my head. “I think I’ll be okay to walk somewhere that’s not too far.” “[[But what’s close enough to walk to?]]”

She nods. “What //is// close enough to walk to?” She starts running her fingers down my back, making the base of my neck buzz pleasantly. “What’s close enough, and quick enough?” It takes a while for my synapses to cut through the fluffy haze fogging my brain. “Wait- wait wait wait, do you mean…?” Calliope leans over, smiling a little lopsidedly. “What do I mean?” I jump to all four paws, practically yipping my next words: “Do you mean [[Jozua’s]]??”

“Do I?” “Red!!!” Jozua’s was a little hole in the wall sandwich place only a block or two away— and “hole in the wall” was pretty literal, seeing as less than a dozen people could fit inside at one given time. I imagine the kitchen looks a bit like a clown car at rush hour. The small team combined with some rave reviews meant that the lines were pretty daunting most days— but, the more I think, the more I realize, this must be the best time to go. End of the day, middle of the week… juicy, perfectly grilled burgers… the sausage, ground with spices with the faintest kick of sweetness… “Diego, [[please don’t drool on my pants.]]”

“Oh my god Red I love you I love you I love you so much.” “Okay.” Rubbing at her flushed cheeks a little with one hand, she takes me in the other, standing slowly, gently trying to maneuver me back into her bag while my tail kicks into overdrive. “But, Diego.” “Haha, what? What is it?” She manages to get me inside, gently letting me drop. Her lips twitch again, but not in the shape of a smile— her mouth seems to be working hard around [[her next words.]]

“…since I told you about the thing I was worrying about… [[can you do the same thing for me?]]”

[[My tail stops wagging.]]

“Could you… tell me about what happened last night?” I place my paws on the edge of the bag, tilting my head to the sidewalk. The ground is an [[impossible distance]] away.

“…Yeah. [[I’ll tell you.]]”

“Thank you.” “But…” I blow a sigh through my nose. “But not now. Please. I swear, I’ll tell you later.” “Right. Not now.” “Not now.” I feel a toothy grin spread on my snout. “[[Now is burgers.]]”

[[==>->burgers]]

Jozua’s comes into view without a single person in front of it, even though the teller window glows yellow and the sign is still flipped to OPEN. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful in my entire life. The wind shifts as we approach, blowing the smells of the kitchen right into us, and I swear I reach a higher state of existence. Thank god I sealed my other mouth back up again. As it is, I can’t help a pretty loud whine. “Don’t drool on my bag, either,” Calliope murmurs. She still makes sure to give me [[a quick scratch behind the ear]] as she reaches for her wallet.

Calliope quickly places the order, eyes on her hands as she speaks. Once she’s got the receipt she walks to the pickup window, settling against the wall to wait. I squirm and butt my head against her side until she lets me into her arms. “It’ll take a few minutes.” I huff, squirming a bit with indignation. I wanted to know if her leg was hurting again! Honestly. [[Does she think I only care about food?]]

Above our heads, a vent on the side of the wall opens up, letting out a big gulp of steam and the smell of oil frying. My stomach growls so hard that I feel a little dizzy. I wriggle in her arms as dramatically as I possibly can, making sure to whine for good measure. “Okay,” she says. “It’s still going to take a few minutes.” I sneeze rebelliously. Calliope //hmms// softly, and gently shifts me so she’s cradling my body. “[[Now it’s less than a few minutes.]]” She nudges me affectionately under the chin with her thumb.

As hungry as I suddenly am, I don’t actually feel all that impatient. There’s worse waits, I think, then those spent in the arms of a beautiful girl. As if she can read my mind, Calliope’s fingers move to the top of my head, nails just grazing that one sweet spot. I whine a little again, letting my tongue loll out as I nestle closer against her. My eyelids begin drooping, turning my vision blue and hazy, except for the single little square of light that peers out from the window… [[soon to open with our…]]

“[[It’s a nice night, huh?]]”

“[[Huh?]]”

My eyes snap open. A guy, I guess a little older than me. Buttondown, skinny jeans. Skinny everything. Definitely not taller than me, but taller than Calliope. Brown hair that looks a bit damp, like maybe he used too much hair product. He smiles, wide and patient, leaning in. “The weather,” he says helpfully. “[[It’s nice.]]”

“Oh,” says Calliope. Her waist swivels away from him a little. “Yes.” “You here by yourself?” Like the empty sidewalk is a party or something. “No, [[I’m with my boyfriend.]]”

I almost choke on a mouthful of empty air. “Boyfr—?” His brow furrows for a moment, going smooth again when he sees me coughing. “Oh. //Ohhh.// Haha, right.” He winks, at… me, I guess? “Funny. [[A comedian.]]”

“No, that wasn’t a joke. I’m pretty bad at jokes.” He chuckles, but it sounds more like scoffing. “Come on, you don’t have to put yourself down. Girls who try to be all coy and act like they think they’re dumb or ugly or whatever, it’s like the most unattractive thing in the world. Doesn’t work at all.” “Okay.” Calliope slides her back against the brick, [[casually sidestepping a little away from him]].

“I mean,” and whether intentional or not he inches in closer, “you’re too intelligent to be doing that faux-dumb partygirl shit, you know?” Calliope frowns, her head turning towards the window. “[[I’m not really intelligent.]]”

“Seriously, you don’t have to put yourself down. I can tell you’re intelligent—you’re not like other girls. Other girls wouldn’t eat at Jozua’s, they’d go for some crappy soy-milk-venti-Frappuccino drink at a Starbucks, shoving their faces in their smartphones.” “I have a smartphone.” He pauses, and goes on: “I was just looking out my window—” “[[I like Starbucks.]]”

“—I was just looking out my window, looking at the moon, and I realized I just couldn’t stay inside on a night like this. I can’t just be like all those other sheeple, taking selfies instead of finding… SELF, you know? It feels like everyone my age is too afraid to go on adventures anymore, afraid to go jump in lakes at midnight, to lie on the back of a car going 80 and scream at the stars. I can’t be still anymore. [[I need an EVENT.]]”

“…………………………………………[[okay.->okaydude]]”

“And I start walking, and you… I just see you here, getting a burger, and I realized how amazing that was! A girl who actually isn’t afraid to eat like a human being!” “Okay.” [[Calliope shifts away another foot.]]

He inches closer. “Look, I know it’s crazy, but I think we all need our lives to be a little more crazy, don’t you? What do you say?” “[[I don’t understand what you’re asking.]]”

“Come with me. Let’s DO something. Let’s write an epic. Let’s fill the streets with our laughter. Let’s break into a museum and make a masterpiece with our bodies!” “[[What?->whatdude]]”

“OR, or, we don’t have to have to go that extreme! My apartment’s like a block away. They allow dogs.” “[[Are you asking me to have sex with you?]]”

“No, no, of course not!” He sputters. “I’m not a creep, God. I just feel this… this connection with you. I want to know you. I want to talk to you. I feel like if I didn’t stop to meet you I would regret it [[for the rest of my—]]”

"[[No thank you.]]"

Behind the window, [[I can hear the sizzle of grease.]]

“I… I’m offering a night to change your life. A one in a million opportunity. What do you have possibly have, back in your mundane little world, that could be more important than a chance to try to get what you truly want?” “I’m going to get my burgers, and go home, and lay in my underwear with my boyfriend, [[and we’re going to eat our burgers.]]”

“I don’t—” “Eating burgers with my boyfriend is also the thing I truly want.” “Look,” he speaks through gritted teeth, “yes, your dog is your boyfriend, and it’s very cute, very fun, but we both know you don’t actually have a boyfriend—” “//I// know I actually have a boyfriend.” “[[Why are you acting like such a—?!]]”

//[[Rrrrrrr……]]//

The guy finally looks down at me. “Great, so now the fucking //[[boyfriend]]// is… going to… jump in…”

//Green,// I realize. His eyes are green. His eyes are green, and big, and getting bigger, bigger, as I snarl, pulling back the newly slit flaps of skin on my face, spilling salvia frothy with blood, revealing rows, and rows, and rows of [[gleaming white teeth…]]

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/0ccac3bad3360d63913891c79cd4c65c.png"/> “[[You should go,->you should go.]]” says Calliope.</center>

And he goes. Within seconds his footsteps are nothing more than a distant gallop, the only companion to the quickly shrinking sight of his back. Behind my head, I hear a window open. “Thank you for your patience! Here’s your order!” //[[That was the first time she’s ever called me her boyfriend,]]// I realize.

[[==>->apartment]]

“—still, you could have been a little meaner to him.” “Maybe.” Hands occupied with our food, Calliope slips a strand of hair past me, plucking her keys out of the depths of her bag. “[[It wasn’t a big deal.->deal]]”

“But it was!” I yip. “You were uncomfortable. And he couldn’t take a fucking hint." Calliope shrugs as she fiddles with the lock. “[[It wasn’t a big deal.]] A lot of men act that way to me. They never seem interested when I say anything, so it’s easier to let them talk.”

I sigh. “You’re too nice. You don’t have to put up with some asshole’s bullshit.” She jerks back with the sudden swing of the door. “[[I don’t?]]”

Somewhere deep in her words is something that feels a little prickly, and I hesitate. “I mean… you know. You //shouldn’t// have to.” She steps over the threshold, a lock of hair curling up to hit the light switch on the way. Her ponytail hooks the doorknob and pulls the door shut. “It’s just ironic that so many guys act like you’re an easy target [[when you could turn them into paste.]]"

“I could.” Although her face doesn’t change, she sounds a little proud. “But that man wasn’t a threat.” “He was going to try to be though. You hear how angry he got?” I shake my head. “What an asshole. Bet he doesn’t worry about…” “[[About what?]]”

I shrug my stumpy little shoulders. “Like, I dunno, I always worry about talking too loud around women I don’t know, [[sometimes they see it like I’m trying to get up in their face or threaten them…]]”

I realize Calliope is [[standing in place in the middle of the kitchen,]] still holding the food.

“Uh— well, it’s not a big deal. It’s mostly just me being dumb, not realizing how [[aggressive]] I am…”

“But you’re not aggressive.” I snort. “You aren’t. You only get aggressive when people approach you aggressively or [[when you feel cornered…]]”

Calliope trails off. “… uh, so, don’t you wanna put all that down? [[Seems heavy.]]”

“It is.” She carefully sets the Styrofoam containers on the table, sliding the canvas bag next to it. I wriggle out, hopping from the tabletop to a chair to the floor in one easy moment. “Do you want a beer?” “Mnnmm-hmmnn,” [[I manage to get out before my bones start twisting.]]

Calliope opens the refrigerator, stooping low for the second shelf. “You only scared that man away because you thought he might try to hurt me. That’s self-defense.” I hear my knuckles pop as they stretch. “[[MMnnrh-mm.]]”

Bottles clink together as she searches for the cans. “That’s the other thing. You only act that way if someone acts aggressively towards you, or towards me.” She tucks some hair behind her ear. “[[You shouldn’t have to be afraid of being angry because someone else decides you’re too angry.]]”

Calliope stands, beers in hand, and turns around [[right into my chest.]]

I wrap my arms around her. “And you shouldn’t have to be afraid to stand up for yourself whenever some bozo decides you’re his indie movie fantasy or whatever.” She bends her elbows to return the hug as best as she can without dropping the cans. “I’m not afraid of bozos,” she says firmly. I laugh. “[[I know you aren’t.]]”

[[I lean down.]]

When we break the kiss, I tilt my head forward to rest my forehead against hers. “[[Thank you.->ty]]”

I’m close enough to hear her eyelashes flutter as she blinks. “For not being afraid?” “For tonight. For… everything.” I bring her closer, as gently as I can. “For suggesting the idea… for that fake ECCO plan…” [[Calliope’s hair squirms.]] “I don’t… know what you mean.”

“Haha, okay.” As I nudge my cheek against her hair, I feel a little sting of pain around my eye. It had been literally hours since I thought about it. “My point is, I really… really needed a night like tonight. Clearing my mind really helped. And you didn’t even… have to do, half of what you did tonight, but you did…” I close my eyes. “It just… really means a lot to me. [[Thank you, Calliope.]]”

“You deserved it.” I chuckle. “There’s a lot of things I deserve, but I don’t think that includes—” She rests her head in the crook of my shoulder firmly. “You deserved it.” “[[…okay.]]”

[[We hold each other for a while.]]

Eventually I start feeling the beer cans sweating against my back. Calliope seems to notice too. “Oh—” She wriggles out of my arms and steps around me. “Well, we should eat before the food gets cold.” I make to turn, but something stops me. “I got the same thing as you.” Behind my back I can hear her setting the beer cans on the table. “I usually get The Commander— it’s chicken, but it has that sauce you like— but I had never tried their burgers before. You seemed to like them, so…” [[I bring up a hand to touch my black eye.]]

“Calliope…” “[[Yes?->lastchoice]]”

> "[[Ah, never mind.]]” > "[[“Before we eat… can I talk to you a little?]]"

“…eh, it’s nothing.” I turn around to approach the table, rubbing my hands. “So this is seriously your first time trying The Gran Torino? Haha, you’re in for a treat.” “Do you want to watch a movie when we’re done?” “Hell yeah! Your choice.” “[[Ah… thank you.]]”

“… say, when you said 'I’m going to lie in my underwear with my boyfriend'…” “[[Yes?->underwear]]”

“Well... did you mean it?” “[[Did I?]]”

“Augh, you’re so cold.” “[[Am I?]]”

“[[…god, I love Jozua’s.]]”

The kitchen lights hold the room in a steady yellow glow. It’s nothing special, but somehow, a handful of lightbulbs manages to feel brighter than the Sun,[[ warming me down to my bones.]]

''<center> ENDING 4: I WANTED TO THINK OF A GOOD PUN FOR THIS ONE BUT I CAN'T </center>'' ''//HEY, THAT WAS A PRETTY NICE ENDING! GOOD JOB! I HOPE YOU HAD FUN PLAYING THIS WEIRD LITTLE GAME. MAYBE IT HELPED YOU RELAX A LITTLE? IF YOU'RE STILL ITCHING FOR MORE, WHY NOT GIVE IT ANOTHER GO? SEE WHAT DIEGO WAS THINKING OF SAYING AT THE END THERE? MAYBE TRY TO GET THE BAD ENDS IF YOU'RE THAT BIG OF A MASOCHIST? HEY, IT'S OKAY. I DON'T JUDGE. IN ANY CASE, THANKS FOR PLAYING POM SIMULATOR 9000!//'' //(link:"TRY AGAIN?")[(goto:"FIRST")]//

“Actually, do you mind holding off on the food for a bit?” Calliope swivels her head towards me, and I suddenly realize how weird that sounds coming from me. “Are you feeling okay?” “Yeah yeah, I’m fine! I just, uh…” I fiddle with the bottom of my shirt. “I mean… it’s technically ‘[[later.]]’”

“Later?” “Yeah… when we got the food, I said I could tell you ‘later’ about, uh…” I exhale. "[[Last night.]]"

“Oh.” Calliope’s eyes widen, and she suddenly pushes herself to her feet. “//Oh.// I, yes. Right.” Her head snaps quickly between me and the table. “Um, I’ll put this in the oven. To keep it warm. I’ll just, put it on the warm setting.” “[[Haha, okay.]]”

I walk out to the living room. Behind me I hear the squeak of Styrofoam as Calliope frantically shifts food to tinfoil. Bonelessly, I flop down onto the couch. How long ago—it had only been about three or four hours since I woke up here, swimming in my own misery and self-pity. “Fuck,” I laugh under my breath, massaging my forehead. “[[I can’t believe they were right about exercise making you feel better.]]”

“What?” Calliope had walked up behind the seat without me even realizing. I turn my jump into the languid stretch of a full body yawn. “Ahh, it’s noooothing.” “Okay.” She sits down next to me. I crack my neck a little. [[Now]] or never.

“Right. So.” I flute my lips, blowing out a stream of air. “So, uh, a few years back, um, when I was thirteen, I was kinda wandering around South Texas, and I met this guy named Luis Miguel. Never knew his last name, everyone just called him Luismi. Uh, he was like…” I screw my eyes as I stare at the opposite wall. “Thirty, I think. He was a farmer, and he and some other guys sort of had a… they were basically taking care of six or seven kids like me. Mexican boys who left home to try and make money, or who…” Calliope waits. “Who got… separated from their families.” [[I take a deep breath.]]

“So basically, we were all alone, and couldn’t really go to the police or anyone to help us. So Luismi and these guys, they sort of looked the other way, letting us all stay in this old shack and getting us food. Getting us jobs, sometimes giving us money to pick vegetables, sometimes driving us out to these really ritzy whi—” I glance at Calliope. “Wealthy neighborhoods, and we’d dig ditches, landscape, plant flowers. [[Those were always hard but they paid the best.]]”

Pushing my hand through my hair, I chuckle. “I uh, I guess you might think it’s kind of fucked up to make kids work like that, but that was honestly the best thing they could have done for us, I think. Luismi said he used to be a drug dealer and he wanted to help boys like us out so… so we wouldn’t have to do things like that to get by.” “Honestly, Luismi was really cool. He like, looked out for us. [[It was almost like having another dad.]]”

Inside my mouth, [[I hear my canines grind together.]]

“But uh… one night. One night Luismi came to the shack, woke us all up. He was… trying to act cool but we all knew something was up. And we realized the other guys were still in the house, talking to, uh… [[ICE agents.]]”

“So ah. Haha. We’re all obviously kind of freaked out… and uh, Luismi basically leads us outside. Trying to get us away, to the brush at the edge of the farm. I think… maybe he was trying to get away too. I never really knew if he was legal or not, or maybe he was still kind of in the whole drug thing. [[But I knew he was most worried about us.]]”

“So it’s quiet. Quieter than it’s ever been. Everything’s all kind of blue, and the stars— there were basically no lights out there, so the stars always looked incredible. Luismi’s like, joking, trying to keep everyone calm, saying we’re gonna follow a star to freedom, like The Wise Men. He points out, um, a star to follow, [[but I couldn’t really pick it out.]]”

“And… and all of sudden something sort of shifted... and we all knew the agents were behind us. I think I heard a gunshot, but it was hard to tell with all the [[shouting.]]”

“We all scrambled, but I was the only one who stayed with Luismi. We made it to the brush, sort of crouching behind this, uh, weird thorny tree. The other kids were kind of going through the brush, and I wanted to go too, but I didn’t want to leave Luismi. But he was looking back, cause… because one of the agents was a little behind us. And Luismi knew he’d just jump on us the second we tried moving.” “[[So he said…]]”

The lump in my throat bobs. “He told me to go ahead, because he was gonna go and try to just, knock out the guy, and he’d catch up with me and the rest of the guys. And he said not to worry…and he smiled, [[and he just left before I could say anything.]]”

“So I’m… I can’t move. It’s not even that I’m like, noble or anything, I’m just frozen. But I heard him basically, tackle the guy, and I hear them scuffle and start cussing each other out. And I just can’t move, [[and I don’t want to move until I know Luismi’s alright.]]”

|one>[] (live: 1s)[(replace: ?one)[“And then… I hear a gunshot.”](stop:)] |three>[] (live: 3s)[(replace: ?three)[////[[“And that time, I know it wasn’t my imagination.”]]////](stop:)]

“[[So I ran.]]”

“I didn’t even look back. I just ran as fast as I could." "[[I never saw any of them again.]]”

My fingers flex, opening and closing over each other in my lap like mouths. |one>[] (live: 3s)[(replace: ?one)[“Diego—”](stop:)] |three>[] (live: 5s)[(replace: ?three)[////[[“Right, so!” My lungs push out a rough bark of laughter. “So I’m guessing you’re like, what does this have to do with last night, and Andres.”]]////](stop:)]

“I didn’t—” “Andres was… [[he was one of the kids who I lived with.]]”

“He was a little older, I think? Fourteen maybe. Uh, he kinda… we weren’t super tight or anything, but he was cool. Some of the guys used to tease me ‘cause I had a bit of a… feminine face? I couldn’t really grow facial hair and I had those beauty marks, so… anyways, it wasn’t really bad or anything, but Andres seemed to know that it kind of got to me, so he eventually got them to stop. “Um… so, the last time I saw him was that night when the ICE guys came… and then, last night, [[I ran into him]].”

I let my fingers tap against my thigh. "I uh, didn’t really recognize him at first. He was standing kind of, in the shadow of an alley and I couldn’t see him too good. I could tell I knew his face but I couldn’t remember where— and he talked like he knew me. He seemed… drunk, I think. I dunno. I honestly thought he was an old uh, customer at first, so I was like, okay, I’ll talk to him for a bit. Try to let him blow off some stream." "But he kept like, smirking, nodding, so I’m finally like, 'dude, what.'" "And he says ‘[[fuck, you don’t recognize me at all, do you?]]’"

“And then, that’s when it all clicks, and I’m like, ‘oh shit dude!’ But after I get excited, I start realizing, Andres isn’t really looking all that good. And I start trying to be like, 'dude, you alright, you need help?' But uh… that sort of seemed to make him madder. I don’t— I think he lives in the city. He told me had a place, that he actually still kept in touch with a lot of the guys, like they lived around each other. And I’m like, shit, man, I’d love to see them. And he said something like, 'yeah, [[I bet you would.]]'”

“And he starts… he’s like, ‘hear you’ve been doing well.’ And I’m like, what, who told you that? And… it turns out he’d heard about me from old customers. And… you know, [[they’re not exactly pretty stories.]]”

"So obviously, I say I don’t do that shit anymore. But he’s still mad. Still kind of laughing, but I can see in his eyes he’s pissed. He’s like ‘so how long’ and ‘what’d you sell,’ and l’m like come on, man, I don’t wanna talk about all that. And he says…" "He says ‘I just thought you might try to show Luis Miguel a little respect, [[after all he did for you.]]’"

“As it turns out… I guess that night, he was a little deeper in the brush. He couldn’t see everything too well, but he saw Luismi run out… heard the gunshot… and he saw me take off.” “Apparently, no one's seen Luismi since that night… they don’t know if he got shot, or arrested or what, but… the odds don’t seem pretty good. Andres didn’t think so either, because then he got REALLY pissed, and that’s when, uh, he started getting pushy. Literally. He shoved at me and was like, 'so you let the man die for you and then you get mixed up in the shit he told you //every day// to not get involved in? It was worth it for that shitty jacket, huh?' And I’m like, dude, I didn’t fucking want to, [[I never wanted to…]]”

“And that’s… [[that’s when he pulled the knife.]]”

“And… yeah, you know how it went. He clocked me, and got me in the shoulder, I was able to open a mouth to keep the wound from being too bad…” “And the whole time he’s kind of yelling, and sort of… crying, about Luismi and other stuff, and… I should have, I wanted to listen to him more, and figure out if I could help him, but I was freaked out, [[you have to understand how fucked up this was,]] how wired the adrenaline was making me…”

“So… so in all the commotion, my sleeve zipper gets undone, and so my arm is exposed. And he takes another swing at me, but misses… and… and by that time I open another mouth, so while his arm is just hanging there, I swung back at him, and… and [[I bit him.]]”

"I bit him on his bicep, and he just stops, and screams. And he trips and falls over, right on his back. And the wound didn’t seem too bad, but like… I couldn’t blame him for being freaked out by that. But I… instead of trying to help or anything, I… I kicked him. Hard." "[[I dropped my foot right in his stomach.]]"

"And he coughed, and like, jerked around, and turned on his side and puked on the ground. And while he was trying to get back up, I opened… some more mouths… I basically opened the entire bottom half of my face, splitting into my neck." "And I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him up… and I slammed him against the alley wall. I got up, right up in his face… and he looked at me like I was… like Satan just climbed out of the ground and was coming for him." "He, he started crying, he yelled something like, oh God, God help me, Jesus, what are you, no, [[I don’t want to die,]] a-and…"

[[“And I said ‘get the fuck out of my sight.’”]]

|one>[] (live: 3s)[(replace: ?one)[“…And he did.”](stop:)] |three>[] (live: 6s)[(replace: ?three)[////[[“He bolted off and didn’t look back once.”]]////](stop:)]

There’s nothing to fill the silence. No wind. No turn of a ceiling fan. The only thing I hear is the pounding of my heart, like the waves of a sea under a storm. It crashes, crashes, crashes, until I feel it in my wristbones. I feel it through my whole body, echoing in my skull, making my black eye burn like a fist is falling on it [[again and again—]]

“Say something.” |three>[] (live: 4s)[(replace: ?three)[////In the stillness I can hear the crackle of Calliope’s lips parting.////](stop:)] |four>[] (live: 6s)[(replace: ?four)[////[[“What do you want me to say?”->crachle]]////](stop:)]

I have to push to get a laugh out. It feels more like I’m retching. “I want you to say I’m not a fucking monster.” “Diego, [[you aren’t—]]”

“No, I— I //want //you to say that, but I know I— you know, I don’t—!” Another sickly tasting laugh. “I don’t even know why I said that! I don’t know why I DID that! The second I got him on the arm I knew he wouldn't fight back anymore, but I still— I barely fucking know what I was! It was like a switch in my brain flipped and I had regressed two years, I had to make him afraid of me! One second I was like, oh, I can be friends with this guy again! I can meet these guys again, and it can be cool! And then, [[and then I was—]]”

“You were defending yourself. He came at you with a knife.” “But I didn’t have to go that far! I was, I was barely scraped, and it wasn’t life or death, all I had to do was push him— I could have— he was hurt, he needed to go to a doctor, and I could have helped—” A spasm makes my back jerk, like I’m trying to vomit with nothing in my stomach. My mouth tastes like blood and skin. “But I fucking— it was like, I got hurt, so I had to retaliate, and act like… [[like a fucking animal—]] like I wasn’t—”

My voice cracks on a sob. “[[Like I wasn’t human.]]”

I clutch at my sides, suddenly on the verge of being sick, and bend so far down my nose almost scrapes my lap. It takes so much concentration to not void my stomach that I don’t notice Calliope moving down the couch. And even though I feel like I’m the last person in the world who deserves it, [[I don’t jerk away when she wraps her arms around me.]]

She’s quiet as I choke down sobs. Vaguely, I’m aware of several sections of her hair grazing me, like the fronds of some otherworldly being trying, not-unkindly, to comfort a creature it had never met before. Pressing my eyes tight together, trying to fight down the salty burn of tears, I hang in her grasp numbly for a few moments. Finally, I straighten up, leaning into her, burying my face against her shoulder. “[[Calliope,]]”

> [["I'm scared."]] > [["I'm scared."]] > [["I'm scared."]] > [["I'm scared."]] > [["I'm scared."]]

"I'm so scared." "I feel like… whenever I’m around other people, they start acting like cameras. Like they’re all watching me, like they’re trying to process why I’m allowed to be around them, and they have to keep an eye on me… to wait for when I take off my skin [[and show what I really am.]]"

“A thug. A gangbanger. A criminal.” “An animal. [[A monster.]]”

“But I’m scared… [[I’m scared that they might be right.]]”

“Every time I lose my temper or snap at you, or I remember things… things I did, in the past, all I can think is, //oh, they were right.// I just hear every voice that ever called me names, or asked me what I was doing in this country. And sometimes, I just think, just for a second, that [[I really am just a good for nothing wetback.]]”

“I hate… I hate the way people look at me. I hate when they whisper around me. But sometimes, instead I start… I start hating everything about myself that makes them act like that. I hate being so fucking huge and awkward. I hate my voice, I hate how I yell without meaning too. I hate my eyes, and this damn scar. I hate…” I exhale, a long and shuddery sigh muffled into her hair. “I hate being a mutant. I hate that even around other Excentrics [[I feel like a freak.]]”

“Honestly, I’d give anything to be anyone else. To be //anything// else. Sometimes I just want… I want to crawl out of my skin, and just be… something small. I want to be something small, and quiet, and gentle, and just… exist. I want to exist without worrying about my existence being a threat to someone else, [[or worrying about anything.]]”

“So that’s why…” Inhaling, I wrap my arms around her. “That’s why this meant so much to me. [[You let me do that tonight.]]”

“Earlier today, when I transformed into that form, I realized it was exactly what I wanted. It was exactly what I dreamed about, but… it also scared me. It scared the hell out of me, because I had to acknowledge //why// it felt comforting.” “I wanted to pretend that feeling never existed, but you… you gave me a way out. You gave me an excuse. You gave me a chance to try it out without thinking about it too hard. And you let me feel small and… and safe. [[You made me feel like I was totally safe.]] It was amazing.”

“And it made me realize… that even with all the parts of me I hate... I also have something like that inside me. [[Something small, and gentle, and loving.]]”

“And… and if I can be all that… then I guess [[I can’t really be a monster, can I?]]”

Calliope holds me closer. “You never were.” I laugh, and even as my tears spill, [[it doesn’t feel like I’m forcing it.]]

After a long, long few minutes, I push back. “Fuck,” I say. “Fuck, that really got heavy, huh?” I sniff while laughing, scrubbing at my eyes with the back of my hand. “Shit. Ha. [[Sorry.]]”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Even as we pull apart, she leaves her arms loosely grasping mine. I’m thankful for it. “Do you… feel a little better now?” “Ah…” I pause, processing that for a moment. “Uh… yeah. Huh. [[I guess I do.]]”

“But not completely better.” “Oh god, fuck no.” I snort. “I’m going to need a few hundred more sob sessions before I get close to working through all my shit.” She nods. “Same.” “…maybe we can take some of those sessions together, then?” I can feel her eyes on my face, even looking at my feet. “[[… sure.]]”

We both inhale. The silence is gentle this time. “So,” Calliope says, “what do you want to do now?” Despite everything, I manage to laugh. “Honestly? I kind of feel like being a pom again. I could stand a few more hours of being small.” She nods. “I do recommend being small.” “But, I am also STARVING.” “[[But you can eat while you’re transformed.]]”

“But… but I’d only be a little bit longer than the burger as a Pom. A burger…” I stare at her, eyes going huge. “Oh my god. A burger as big as me? That’s like… sinful. By all definitions. I think eating a burger the size of you just automatically gets you into hell.” “…do you want to do it?” I’m already transforming. "[[Fuck yes I do.->Fuck yes I do.]]”

Here’s the short version: around 1960, people began reporting sightings of strange, fungus-like things appearing all around the world. As sightings increased, it became glaringly clear that not only were these things real, they were also viciously hostile, trapping and killing a not-small amount of people. When people tried retaliating, they found that weapons were not only effectively useless against the ECCO (or “ExtraCelestial Chthonic Organisms”), but they generally made them angrier. While THAT was going on, there were also reports of people manifesting bizarre abilities, including but not limited to: shapeshifting, pyrokinesis, limb generation, light manipulation, and mind reading. This was back when people were still wringing their hands over whether rock and roll was Satan’s music or not, so,understandably, [[everyone was generally pretty freaked out about this.]]

A lot of stuff went down, but eventually people started realizing “hey, these weird mutant people’s powers are a lot more effective against these weird monsters than guns and bombs are, we should stop discriminating against them maybe? Or at least just enough so we can recruit them to kill these things.” Okay, that’s maybe a bit more cynical than I should be. Seeing how deeply south things can go for other “outsider” groups, things could have been a hell of lot worse for Excentrics. As it is, you only have to get registered and promise not to use your abilities in certain areas. You don’t even HAVE to join the BOEAEA. Things aren’t bad, they can just… sometimes… feel tense, I guess. Whatever. “Tense” is fine. “Tense” is [[survivable.]]

Oh, right. BOEAEA is short for “Bureau of Excentric and ECCO Activities.” (As you may have guessed, they’re very big on acronyms. Ironically, most people just call it “the Bureau”) They employ Excentrics to take care of any manifestations of the ECCO, but we’re also basically contract workers brought into to deal with any situation where our abilities could be helpful. Fires, disasters. Other Excentrics. But, surprisingly, a good chunk of the job is paperwork. It also pays well, has good benefits, and basically got me off the streets. So, weirdness aside, I do have a fondness for the whole thing. If not for the organization itself, or the suits, then definitely for the people. >// ([[Okay, that's all I wanted to know.->I'm good.]])// >// ([[I'm still confused.->What are you confused about?]])//

...My name’s Diego Foxglove. “Foxglove” obviously isn’t my real surname- it’s a long story- but it’s the name that allows me to stay in this country, in the Bureau. I came to the United States when I was twelve. That’s… also a long story, one I rather stay far away from right now. The point is, I came here when I was twelve and spent the past ten years running, couch-surfing, working, fighting, and basically doing whatever I could to survive. As it turns out, a Mexican guy who stands at 6 feet 4 inches, and God Knows How Many Pounds kind of tends to stand out a lot, [[no matter how badly he wants to keep his head down.]]

My ability doesn’t exactly help, either- I’m a “Type Anima,” which basically means I can turn into an animal, or “animal-like form,” officially. In my case I’m a “canine,” so I can turn into a big wolf-like dog, or dog-like wolf, depending on how you look at it. It means I have keen senses of smell and hearing, as well as a form to slip by unnoticed when the going gets tough. It's not too shabby. But then the mouths come in. Mouths, plural. Because along with every other piece of bad luck heaped upon me by the Universe, I also happen to have a very, very rare extra gene that causes my ability to have a weird mutation-- in my case, the sprouting of extra heads in my canine form (hence my codename- Cerberus). They can be helpful, but it’s not exactly pretty to look at, especially when they start off as mouths on random parts of your body. Mind you, I had absolutely no way of knowing ANY of this until I joined the Bureau, a little over a year ago. For most of my life, I just thought I sprouted extra mouths because I was a freak of nature. And, don’t get me wrong, weird monster mouths can actually be a boon in a fight- or when you need to hide mysterious packages you need to deliver to shady places for a few extra bucks. But it took me a while to figure that out, and almost as much time to figure out how to control them. And trust me, I didn’t need more reasons for people to look at me like I was something out of a horror movie. And I absolutely did not need more excuses for people to call the cops on me for standing [[in the wrong place at the wrong time.]]

I like quiet nights at home, fighting and driving video games, pro wrestling, and beef. I dislike the police, being stared at, and being frantically ignored. >// ([[Okay, that's all I wanted to know.->I'm good.]])// >// ([[I'm still confused.->What are you confused about?]])//

It honestly still makes my blood burn when I remember some of the things Calliope described to me. The long and short of it was, if someone hadn’t intervened, I’m not actually sure she would be alive today. Evyra Owens was another Type Gorgon, as well as an outspoken advocate for Excentric rights. She had suspected for a while that the methods of Calliope’s mother weren’t //quite// as healthy as she claimed, and offered Calliope a way out. [[She took it.]]

Calliope’s basically sworn her life to Evyra and the Bureau, and as such, she worked and studied like hell so she could work as an officer alongside her mentor at the age of 22. It was one of her first big assignments that led to her meeting me. Specifically, she pretty much accidentally caught me selling drugs. In a life full of times I wasn’t proud of, it was a time I was absolutely not proud of. If you want me to be honest, I used to act like a pretty big douchebag to her. But somehow, for some reason, she never gave up trying to get through to me. She “misplaced evidence” and never got the cops involved when dealing with me, even as I got angrier and more desperate. Finally, things came to a head when a bad bit of luck put me on the streets at the same time a bad bit of weather gave me pneumonia. She found me, half-conscious, basically slowly dying, and I still lashed out at her. I barely remember the things I growled at her- my brain was numb and somehow too cold and too hot at the same time. But I still remember what she said to me that day: //“I’m not like you, no. But I know what it looks like when someone is pretending as hard as they can that they want to be doing the thing they think they have to do. That’s how I used to be. [[That’s what I see, looking at you now.”]]//

She recruited me. She basically saved me. We became roommates, then coworkers, then friends. And then, recently… [[more than friends.]]

She’s… how do I describe her? Honestly, she’s very weird. She used to creep me out a lot. She’s not much of a talker- more of a starer. She’s got these big black eyes that feel like they’re constantly swallowing you. She stares at people to try and connect facial expressions to moods and meanings, because she’s not good at figuring that out on her own. She grips her own arms and wraps her hair around herself when she feels nervous or stressed. She has this mellow, flat voice that used to gross me out, and now is one of the most soothing things I’ve ever heard. She speaks pretty bluntly. She says she’s bad at understanding sarcasm or nuance, so she finds it easiest to speak as simply as possible. This means she can be brutally honest. This also means she will absolutely never hesitate to tell you how [[beautiful]] she finds you and the hideous amalgamation of teeth and meat you call a body.

She dislikes scissors, haircuts, and swimming. She likes getting her hair brushed and learning about Excentrics and the ECCO. She loves horror movies. Watching a good horror movie is one of the few things that makes her excited. After she watches one, she can go on and on explaining why it worked as well as it did. She’ll talk and talk and her hands will move like fireworks, all while her hair winds and flexes around her and her face lights up like a neon sign. When she talks like that, [[I feel like I can listen to her forever.]]

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/d8920f02b4dc47603bbc56dbd6024651.png"/></center> … So yeah. That’s the girl I just yelled at. >// ([[Okay, that's all I wanted to know.->I'm good.]])// >// ([[I'm still confused.->What are you confused about?]])//

<center> |more>[] (live: 2s)[ (replace: ?more)[//[[burger]]//] (stop:) ] </center>

''//[[Burgerburgerburgerburgerburger]]//''

''//[[BURGERBURGERBURGERBURGERBUR-]]//''

[[I hiccup.]]

Licking the last few flecks of sauce off my lips, I stretch my legs, tail thumping against the tabletop contentedly. “That was impressive.” Calliope takes the remains of my Styrofoam container as she passes. “I wasn’t actually one hundred percent sure you’d be able to do that.” A few possible retorts drift through my head, but I’m way too full to try for wit right now. Instead I just hiccup again, following up with a soft, lengthy yawn as [[I flop on my side.]]

[[Bless Jozua's.]]

I’m probably full enough for Calliope to dribble me to the bedroom like a soccer ball. She’s kind enough to gently pick me up and carry me instead. Once we’re there, she carefully sets me on the bed, right on the center of a pillow. “I’ll be right back,” she promises. “I just need to take a shower and, uh, my medicine.” She gives me a quick scratch behind the ears before disappearing into the bathroom. For a few minutes I just lay there, utterly spent. The long day combined with my full stomach is suddenly hitting me hard. But it’s not unpleasant- it actually feels nice. Peaceful. My limbs and shoulders feel like melted butter. My insides feel syrupy, soft. [[Warm.]]

I suddenly realize that //this// is the kind of tired you’re supposed to feel at the end of the day, not the Stew Silently In Dread of The Past Present and Future kind of tired I’m so familiar with. I could get used to [[this kind of tired.]]

After a while, I slide myself off the pillow, slow and careful, trying to actually move as little as possible. One prompt face-plant (after a fall of only a few inches, mercifully) later into the sheets later, I find I’m pretty content to just stay there. Neither of us are really sticklers about making the bed, so our sheets are pretty much permanently in a state of Wrinkled, If Clean. I take a few moments to nose at the soft fabric, inhaling deeply when I pick out her scent. I wriggle further in, until my body is completely under the comforter. My muscles go loose and limp as I nestle in. My world’s nothing but warmth and softness and the intoxicating smell of her hair… “[[Please don’t suffocate under there.]]”

The mattress dips quietly as I blink myself out of my half-sleep. Calliope’s weight is barely enough to disturb me as she shifts closer. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just thought it’d be really unfortunate if you, um, [[died]].”

After a considerable amount of squirming, I manage to free my head from the sheets. I look at Calliope- look //up// at Calliope, as I suddenly comprehend how much bigger than me she is right now. Even lying on her side, waist angled so she can look at me, she towers. Freshly out of the shower, there’s still patches of pink here and there against her skin, showing where the water ran too hot. Her hair is loose, tumbling everywhere now that it’s free of her ponytail, a deep ruby red in the low light, glistening where the glow of the lamp manages to hit it. She’s in a pair of pajama shorts, black to match her bra, a low, strapless bandeau that draws the eye to the soft lines of her chest and [[the sharp, defined muscles of her arms…]]

“Diego? Why are you doing that?” <center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/affa9059e26ca12554a718298f693632.png"/></center> Even with my face buried into a pillow, I can still see her politely baffled face perfectly in my mind. God. How am I supposed to answer that one? //Sorry Calliope, you’re just so ridiculously gorgeous that my brain started spitting embarrassing crap like ‘goddess’ and ‘you’re the best thing that ever happened to me’ and I had to stop looking at you because I felt like I was going to faint?// [[I let out a soft little whine instead.]]

After a few seconds, I feel a finger politely prod at my shoulder. I turn to her, and almost immediately have to fight the urge to turn right back, because now she’s laying on her side as she looks at me, facing towards me, bangs framing her dark, dark eyes… She opens her arms a little, lips a quiet question mark. “Do you want to lay with me?” [[God.]]

I don’t walk to her so much as I crawl, head low, feeling weirdly shy, almost nervous. If she notices, she doesn’t say anything- she just takes me in her arms, carefully gathering me against the soft curve of her chest. She leans in, pressing her face against the top of my head for a moment, hand soft, almost liquid, as it strokes my back. I can feel her lips graze my ears as she smiles, probably at the sound of me letting out yet another quiet little whine. “Are you comfortable?” Her voice is so low it can barely hold a question. I shiver and nod, feeling my face go hot when I realize that basically means I’m nuzzling her breasts. But she doesn’t seem to mind- if anything, it feels like she’s bringing me closer. Idly, [[I wonder if this is what heaven feels like.]]

“You know, you’re usually the one holding me like this.” My head is so fuzzy and her words are so quiet it takes me a moment to realize that I didn’t imagine it. “I really… really like it when you do. You’re so big and solid, and when I feel your arms around me, when I press my face against your chest, I feel… safe. Like we’re the only two people in the world, and there’s nothing we would ever have to worry about. [[I feel like I could hold onto you forever.]]”

Her fingernails are gentle as she runs them through my fur. Her chest bobs gently as she breathes, bringing my head up and down along with it, almost like the beat of the ocean. My eyelids slowly begin to drift shut. “I really… really wanted to be able to give you that feeling too.” I nudge closer, close enough to feel the steady thrum of her heart. Her scent, still clean and fresh from the shower, feels like it floods my entire body, and it’s electric enough to wake me up enough to hear her next words: “I wanted to let you feel small. Small and safe and protected. [[That’s why I wanted you to try out this form.]]”

“To be honest, I was… lying, quite a lot, when I said it might have advantages in combat. The truth is it is extremely hard to think about what benefits it might serve when fighting ECCO- unless, you have any ideas, I mean…” “But, the point is, you shouldn’t have to be thinking about that kind of thing all the time. You deserve moments like this. I’d give you days, lifetimes if I could. But even if it can only ever be moments, I’ll give you every moment I can.” [[Her fingers trace curling paths against my back.]]

“I still remember how you used to be when we first met. Even when you stood still, you were never really still. Your shoulders were always tense. Your eyes always, always moved. You seemed like you were always ready to run, or fight if you had to.” “Last night… you reminded me of how you used to be. And I didn’t like that. And I realized… when you told me about everything, you felt the same way, sort of. It made you remember how things used. [[And I realized you didn’t want that either.]]”

A dry little twinge goes up my throat, and I have to swallow. I lean closer to her, and it must be the moist touch of my nose that makes a little giggle escape her, and of course I have to press my snout to her skin again, [[have to hear her laugh again…]]

“Diego… I’m not really good with words. I wish I was. I don’t know how else to let you know [[how much I love you.]]”

[[“I love you.”]]

[[“I really, really love you.”]]

“And more than that, I want to let you know how much I just… appreciate you. As a friend. As someone who’s made me feel so much less alone. As someone who told me I have the right to get angry and blunt and cold when things aren’t right. As someone who’s been so, so, so patient with me, during the times when I can’t talk, or when I can’t stop talking, or when it’s just… overall hard to understand me.” “The truth is, I worry a lot, if it’s right for someone like me to be with someone like you. I think a lot that you might be happier with someone who’s easier to understand, [[someone who’s better at empathizing…]]”

“But, if you had your voice right now, you’d probably tell me that’s a ridiculous thing to think.” I arf as firmly as I can without breaking the quiet spell over the room. I nod for emphasis. “You’d say something like that without hesitating. And then you’d try to play it off, or say something like ‘or, you know, whatever,’ and start looking at the floor instead of my face.” [[…ow.]]

She lets out a soft little chuckle, and I instantly feel warm all over. “I’m not saying it to make fun of you. In a way, I really love that part of you too. The part that makes you act like you have to act cool or tough or rude whenever you’re kind. [[It’s sweet.]]”

“It’s sweet… but it also makes me a bit sad. It makes me wonder if you act like that because you think that’s [[the kind of person you are.]]”

“Diego… I’m not good with words. I’m not witty like you, or smart like Mitsuko, or good at making people feel better like Evyra. All I can be is the person I am. All I can say are the things I see right in front of me. But in a way, that’s good, because that means [[I’m very bad at lying.]]”

“Diego, you’re not a monster or an animal. I don’t think you’re even a somewhat bad person. I don’t think a bad person would worry over how their words come out. You’re always thinking about the things you say and how they come off to others, or how you come off to other people.” “At the same time, I really, really wish you didn’t have to think about that. Because I think that you think like that because of how people have treated you or talked to you in the past. In the present, too. And if I could, [[I really, really wish I could make it so you’d never have to think about those people again.]]”

“But I’m only myself. I can’t do that.” “But I //can// give you [[these moments.]]”

Calliope hesitates, then takes me in her hands, gently tugging me up until my shout was tickling her cheek. “Evyra said once that there are theories that all Excentric abilities are in some way reflections of a person’s inner self. Doctor Taiwo told her that was a pretty unscientific way of looking at it. Honestly, I agreed with Doctor Taiwo, and I still kind of do. But now, looking at you, I wonder if maybe those theories are at least a little true. Your hellhound form suits the strong, forceful parts of you. But this form suits the tender, gentle parts of you. They’re both you. [[They’re both parts that make you so incredible.]]”

“Diego… You’re not a monster. You’re not a saint. You’re only a person- but in my opinion, you’re a pretty wonderful person. And all the doubt and worries in the world can’t make the tender parts of you disappear. Even when bad days are so bad they make you think they're the only days you've ever had, I can be here to let you know that isn’t true. And I’ll do my best to remind you of that, whenever or wherever you need it, until I know for sure that [[you will never, ever forget it ever again.]]”

|three>[] (live: 3s)[(replace: ?three)[////[["...ha.”]]////](stop:)]

“This is why I don’t like talking a lot… I always feel silly when I’m done.” “I don’t even really know if any of that made sense. [[Did it make sense to you?]]”

“…or [[did you fall asleep.]]”

“Heh. Well, it kind of figures. [[You were tired.]]”

[[“…”]]

“[[I just hope I could help you.]]”

“I said a lot, but that’s all I really wanted to say.” “I hope this helped, [[even if it was only for a little while.]]”

“I’m not very good at comforting other people. But even I can give things to others.” “[[I just wanted to give you a good day.]]”

[[“I really, really hope I did.”]]

“......” “You said earlier that, in relationships, that for everything you receive, you have to give back. I wonder if you realize how much you’ve given to me. The way you spoke, you seemed like you thought you weren’t giving enough, but honestly, [[I feel like I’m the one who still needs to be giving back.]]”

“…well. With enough time, [[I think we’ll be able to give and receive enough to be even.]]”

“[[…I hope we can give and receive from each other for a long time.]]”

|three>[] (live: 3s)[(replace: ?three)[////[["...I hope...”]]////](stop:)]

<center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/6d8d6192daae7e0c3583e2824677b8f8.png"/></center> |three>[] (live: 3s)[(replace: ?three)[////[["I hope so too.”]]////](stop:)]

Calliope’s gentle fingers slowly drift to a stop on my back as her voice trails off into silence. I watch her face relax as her breath goes soft and steady, finally deep under the blanket of sleep. After a few minutes of watching her sleep, I carefully move lower down, slow and careful to avoid waking her, until I’m flush against her chest once more. I close my eyes, listening to the slow and steady beat of her heart, [[pumping quietly away in the right side of her sternum.]]

<center> ''Ending 5: True End ''</center> <center> <img src="https://i.gyazo.com/0a4d20a9f13edfce0e7c0ac1aa6305f0.png"/></center> ''[[Author's Note]]''

//''[[IN A WORLD THAT BELIEVES YOU A BEAST, TO BE TENDER IS A REVOLUTION]]''//

//''AS I TYPE THE VERY LAST WORDS OF THIS VERY STRANGE PROJECT, THE DATE IS MAY 1ST, 2017''// //''[[IT HAS BEEN A VERY STRANGE AND HARROWING FEW MONTHS]]''//

//''TO BE QUITE FRANK, THE WORLD HAS BEEN WEARING DOWN ON ME LATELY''// //''[[I FEEL VERY TIRED]]''//

//''AS ALWAYS,THERE ARE TWO THINGS THAT PUSH ME TO KEEP GOING WHEN I AM AT MY LOWEST POINTS''// ''//ONE IS MY WORK. MY WRITING. MY ART.//'' ''//THE OTHER IS NOT TRULY AN 'OTHER,' BUT OTHERS//'' ''//QUITE LITERALLY, OTHERS//'' ''//[[THE PEOPLE I LOVE]]//''

//''TO THE ONES I LOVE, THANK YOU FOR YOU KINDNESS AND SUPPORT. TO THOSE OF YOU WHO MOTIVATED ME TO KEEP ON THIS PROJECT, EVEN AS I FELT DOUBTS OR EMBARASSMENT, FELT SILLY TO THINK I SHOULD WASTE MY TIME ON SOMETHING SO FRIVOLOUS DURING THESE TIMES,''// //''[[THANK YOU]]''//

//''I WISH I COULD GIVE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU A PEACEFUL MOMENT. A MOMENT, A DAY, A LIFETIME I CAN ONLY HOPE, THIS STRANGE AND SILLY GAME THAT I GOT ATTACHED TO ON A STRANGE AND SILLY WHIM, CAN ALLOW YOU [[A FEW MOMENTS OF PEACE]]''//

''//IT IS A STRANGE AND UNEASY WORLD. MANY OF US ARE VERY AFRAID. MANY OF US ARE FIGHTING, AND PROTESTING, AND EDUCATING, AND SPEAKING AND SCREAMING EVEN AS FRIGHTENING THINGS STAND BEHIND OUR NECKS PLEASE, DO NOT EVER LOSE YOUR FIRE BUT AT THE SAME TIME, REMEMBER TO [[NURSE THE TENDER SPACES IN YOUR HEART->NURSE THE TENDER PARTS OF YOUR HEART]]//''

//''I HOPE YOU FOUND A BIT OF PEACE WHILE PLAYING THIS GAME, NO MATTER HOW SMALL IT WAS [[THANK YOU->END]]''//

//''THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU''// Thank you.