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The marten peered through the glass of the sample vial at the purified water. "It's got quite a bit of residual aura from whatever the unicorn did to it," he said as he passed it close to his face. His sensitivity to tellical energy was part of how he landed this job, though his former position in a pharmacologist's office had a lot more to do with it.
"That's obvious, Foley" said lead technician Hark. He was a bit of an oddity for this department; short for a gryphon, but still much bigger than the junior technician or any of the other personnel of the research and classification team. Most mythological employees of the institution were field agents; or if they were dragons, they were at levels of the hierarchy rarely seen by anyone who didn't have an office full of custom-made furnishings and its own independent staff. "I suppose something we'd like to address is how well the water retains the charge. I thought about swiping some, honestly."
The marten put the water down by the pieces of what had been dubbed "Project Puzzle": long white splinters of a fractured form recently unearthed in the field. "I knew the rations wouldn't be enough! Despite what comes from the higher-ups, I knew it wouldn't be enough. When you took off last week, that was because you were...er, "running low"? I've seen the vials of the purified tellical essence that goes out to mythological field agents, I just assumed you got the same allowance."
The clicking of Hark's talons on the floor as he walked to the records and communications bank and then back to Foley, the only other occupant of the lab, was the only sound until the gryphon leaned close to the marten. "Have you seen anyone mythical start to naturalize?"
"No!" Foley looked at the head of the lab with some shock. "Don't tell me you were that far gone!?"
"Not quite, no. But I felt...well, it's like you're coming apart." He glanced over at the splinters of Puzzle. "Probably how that poor bastard felt. I've heard in most cases like mine, gryphons...they either fall down and get back up a full bird, with a lot of their body missing but them none the worse for wear but some traumatic memories...or they don't get back up at all. That's it: curtains. I've been looking for sources of tellical energy off to the side. I've even dabbled with making some of my own collectors."
He appraised the junior technician and nodded. "I've always wondered if you'd have an interest in that. A few generations ago, before the Tap, you likely would have been a mage of some sort. It'd be something to think about, if you've got the inclination; I have some plans that were collected by a friend of mine."
Foley dreamed of wearing a large wide-brimmed hat and robes with mysterious runes and symbols along its length; gesturing out to the elements and causing them to dance at his whim. "Maybe I would be interested."
"Getting some of this water would be a nice trial run, then." Hark pocketed one of them with a smile. "I'm actually not that worried about naturalizing," he said. "Fran and I are talking a bit about starting a family, so...any little extra I can scrape up with to help them 'take after us', if you get the picture. I know everyone but the dragons are on the way out, but I don't want it to end at my generation."
"Gotta do what you've gotta do," said Foley as he tried hard to avoid looking at the remaining bottles. There were five left. How many would they really need to store? If the unicorn was being recruited or tagged, they could always get some more.
"Keep working on Puzzle there, I'll be back after the manager coordination meeting." The gryphon left.
The marten had little self-control...what happened next, though, was a surprise.
******
It quivered sometimes, even though the room was currently sealed and no noticeable air currents were present. It resembled an outline of the former junior technician against the brick wall, made from snot.
"What was his name," asked the director. "Foley? The young pine marten?"
"Yes," said the lead technician.
Before he could continue, he was interrupted by the outline which also answered "Yes."
"I'm not sure how it's speaking, now. It isn't telepathic, I've got my usual talismans and shields on, as is operating procedure." Hark eyed the director, a silvery-furred fox who of course was not wearing protective gear of any variety. "I'd recommend keeping a short distance away from it, sir."
"Foley," said the outline. Parts of it slowly migrated across the brick; it covered less area now, collected itself, and formed a more detailed portrayal of the young marten's profile complete with whiskers around his nose and chin. "Why can't we remember much about Foley? It's strange, I remember everything in the last few minutes but the further back I go, the less there is." It quivered. "We? I? That's confusing."
"It might be vibrating against the brick. What's on the other side of the wall, isn't it storage?" The director turned to one of his staff, standing at attention but a safe distance away from the outline. "Go make sure it's not eating its way through the brick."
Director Spire turned back to the quivering, formless mass. "Sorry, that YOU are not eating through the brick. You remember being Foley? Are you Foley now?"
"That's the weirdest question," it said. "I remember somehow losing track of myself and being asleep. But I also remember waking up this morning, coming into work, and getting some instruments out on the table, cleaning up after the night shift, waiting for some samples that were supposed to come in later. It was from a unicorn, I think. Purified water from a unicorn.
"Yes," it continued. We all remember that. The water came in and the unicorn's essence was still on it, and... I tested it? It helped me to wake up. It's confusing...it's like both happened. Then..."
"I think this is what's left of that shapeshifter and of Foley," said the director. "It got a sympathetic charge from the small field left over on the water after the unicorn, Shanstar, purified it. I sent agents Picks and Wahl to check that guy out yesterday, they must have brought it down here for testing." Ignoring the gryphon's warnings, he approached the swaying mosaic and inspected it with the tip of a golden pen. "From most accounts, after the Tap the ones that survived were like large single-celled organisms. It sounds remarkably similar to what I think we're seeing here: it's like a slime mold, or an amoeba. But it can't be this large without a hefty dose of power, and of course, some raw ingredients. Or inspiration of what to copy..."
Director Spire stroked his chin and then turned to his entourage of assistants. "Did agents Picks and Wahl undergo any sort of decontamination procedures when they were back?"
******
Chris Wahl had terrible dreams about uncontrollable urges to pick his nose. Talking with agent Blanque, he suffered unbearable discomfort around his snout that made him want to dig around, manners be damned! Out scouting for vixens during his short vacations, and gliding in with a smooth approach to someone hot, and his own foxy self looking tight as can be, if he thought so himself? A great obstruction that threatened to make him unable to breathe unless he poked around with a paw to clear it!
It became so vivid and realistic at one point he sat up and snorted, sputtering out in the darkness, feeling wide awake. The cut that he thought had healed thanks to the unicorn's showy demonstration burned as if it had just happened again, but after rubbing it in the dark, he decided it was just his imagination. It had been a long day, and it was very easy to fall back asleep.
When he woke up after dawn, he was confused by something right in front of the hands of his alarm clock. It took a while to focus on it, and even longer to acknowledge he was seeing it correctly: it was a tiny figurine of a fox.
He sat up in bed and picked it up. It was flexible, like well-chewed bubble gum, and he squashed part of the torso before realizing how soft it was.
As he tried to smooth it back into shape and muttered to himself "Now where did you come from" it registered that it wasn't just any fox; it was red and had a slightly perkier left ear, just like him. It looked an awful lot like him, in fact.
-----------------------------------------
The marten peered through the glass of the sample vial at the purified water. "It's got quite a bit of residual aura from whatever the unicorn did to it," he said as he passed it close to his face. His sensitivity to tellical energy was part of how he landed this job, though his former position in a pharmacologist's office had a lot more to do with it.
"That's obvious, Foley" said lead technician Hark. He was a bit of an oddity for this department; short for a gryphon, but still much bigger than the junior technician or any of the other personnel of the research and classification team. Most mythological employees of the institution were field agents; or if they were dragons, they were at levels of the hierarchy rarely seen by anyone who didn't have an office full of custom-made furnishings and its own independent staff. "I suppose something we'd like to address is how well the water retains the charge. I thought about swiping some, honestly."
The marten put the water down by the pieces of what had been dubbed "Project Puzzle": long white splinters of a fractured form recently unearthed in the field. "I knew the rations wouldn't be enough! Despite what comes from the higher-ups, I knew it wouldn't be enough. When you took off last week, that was because you were...er, "running low"? I've seen the vials of the purified tellical essence that goes out to mythological field agents, I just assumed you got the same allowance."
The clicking of Hark's talons on the floor as he walked to the records and communications bank and then back to Foley, the only other occupant of the lab, was the only sound until the gryphon leaned close to the marten. "Have you seen anyone mythical start to naturalize?"
"No!" Foley looked at the head of the lab with some shock. "Don't tell me you were that far gone!?"
"Not quite, no. But I felt...well, it's like you're coming apart." He glanced over at the splinters of Puzzle. "Probably how that poor bastard felt. I've heard in most cases like mine, gryphons...they either fall down and get back up a full bird, with a lot of their body missing but them none the worse for wear but some traumatic memories...or they don't get back up at all. That's it: curtains. I've been looking for sources of tellical energy off to the side. I've even dabbled with making some of my own collectors."
He appraised the junior technician and nodded. "I've always wondered if you'd have an interest in that. A few generations ago, before the Tap, you likely would have been a mage of some sort. It'd be something to think about, if you've got the inclination; I have some plans that were collected by a friend of mine."
Foley dreamed of wearing a large wide-brimmed hat and robes with mysterious runes and symbols along its length; gesturing out to the elements and causing them to dance at his whim. "Maybe I would be interested."
"Getting some of this water would be a nice trial run, then." Hark pocketed one of them with a smile. "I'm actually not that worried about naturalizing," he said. "Fran and I are talking a bit about starting a family, so...any little extra I can scrape up with to help them 'take after us', if you get the picture. I know everyone but the dragons are on the way out, but I don't want it to end at my generation."
"Gotta do what you've gotta do," said Foley as he tried hard to avoid looking at the remaining bottles. There were five left. How many would they really need to store? If the unicorn was being recruited or tagged, they could always get some more.
"Keep working on Puzzle there, I'll be back after the manager coordination meeting." The gryphon left.
The marten had little self-control...what happened next, though, was a surprise.
******
It quivered sometimes, even though the room was currently sealed and no noticeable air currents were present. It resembled an outline of the former junior technician against the brick wall, made from snot.
"What was his name," asked the director. "Foley? The young pine marten?"
"Yes," said the lead technician.
Before he could continue, he was interrupted by the outline which also answered "Yes."
"I'm not sure how it's speaking, now. It isn't telepathic, I've got my usual talismans and shields on, as is operating procedure." Hark eyed the director, a silvery-furred fox who of course was not wearing protective gear of any variety. "I'd recommend keeping a short distance away from it, sir."
"Foley," said the outline. Parts of it slowly migrated across the brick; it covered less area now, collected itself, and formed a more detailed portrayal of the young marten's profile complete with whiskers around his nose and chin. "Why can't we remember much about Foley? It's strange, I remember everything in the last few minutes but the further back I go, the less there is." It quivered. "We? I? That's confusing."
"It might be vibrating against the brick. What's on the other side of the wall, isn't it storage?" The director turned to one of his staff, standing at attention but a safe distance away from the outline. "Go make sure it's not eating its way through the brick."
Director Spire turned back to the quivering, formless mass. "Sorry, that YOU are not eating through the brick. You remember being Foley? Are you Foley now?"
"That's the weirdest question," it said. "I remember somehow losing track of myself and being asleep. But I also remember waking up this morning, coming into work, and getting some instruments out on the table, cleaning up after the night shift, waiting for some samples that were supposed to come in later. It was from a unicorn, I think. Purified water from a unicorn.
"Yes," it continued. We all remember that. The water came in and the unicorn's essence was still on it, and... I tested it? It helped me to wake up. It's confusing...it's like both happened. Then..."
"I think this is what's left of that shapeshifter and of Foley," said the director. "It got a sympathetic charge from the small field left over on the water after the unicorn, Shanstar, purified it. I sent agents Picks and Wahl to check that guy out yesterday, they must have brought it down here for testing." Ignoring the gryphon's warnings, he approached the swaying mosaic and inspected it with the tip of a golden pen. "From most accounts, after the Tap the ones that survived were like large single-celled organisms. It sounds remarkably similar to what I think we're seeing here: it's like a slime mold, or an amoeba. But it can't be this large without a hefty dose of power, and of course, some raw ingredients. Or inspiration of what to copy..."
Director Spire stroked his chin and then turned to his entourage of assistants. "Did agents Picks and Wahl undergo any sort of decontamination procedures when they were back?"
******
Chris Wahl had terrible dreams about uncontrollable urges to pick his nose. Talking with agent Blanque, he suffered unbearable discomfort around his snout that made him want to dig around, manners be damned! Out scouting for vixens during his short vacations, and gliding in with a smooth approach to someone hot, and his own foxy self looking tight as can be, if he thought so himself? A great obstruction that threatened to make him unable to breathe unless he poked around with a paw to clear it!
It became so vivid and realistic at one point he sat up and snorted, sputtering out in the darkness, feeling wide awake. The cut that he thought had healed thanks to the unicorn's showy demonstration burned as if it had just happened again, but after rubbing it in the dark, he decided it was just his imagination. It had been a long day, and it was very easy to fall back asleep.
When he woke up after dawn, he was confused by something right in front of the hands of his alarm clock. It took a while to focus on it, and even longer to acknowledge he was seeing it correctly: it was a tiny figurine of a fox.
He sat up in bed and picked it up. It was flexible, like well-chewed bubble gum, and he squashed part of the torso before realizing how soft it was.
As he tried to smooth it back into shape and muttered to himself "Now where did you come from" it registered that it wasn't just any fox; it was red and had a slightly perkier left ear, just like him. It looked an awful lot like him, in fact.
Sometimes it's interesting how particular Thursday Prompts can advance a story in directions you had thought about but not planned carefully.
After an accident about which we have few details, the Patronage gets a potential new asset to play with.
This is a sequel to this part.
After an accident about which we have few details, the Patronage gets a potential new asset to play with.
This is a sequel to this part.
Category Story / All
Species Goo / Slime
Gender Any
Size 119 x 120px
Listed in Folders
Foley has some severe adjusting to do. I wonder if it's a sort of "communal intelligence" thing, where the more cells it has, the smarter it is. Makes you wonder how capable the little mini-Wahl is gonna be.
I'm intrigued to see where this story goes, and interesting set up. Just out of curiosity if a gryphon naturalises into an ordinary bird do they retain their intelligence and memories, and same for other mythological creatures? Now I'm curious what each would become.
I had some thoughts on that, and might use the newest prompt to elaborate on it.
Interesting, I look forward to reading it, I'm guessing a Kitsune would become a fox and a Naga a snake, that's a fun concept.
This world is so interesting! I read the previous part too. Super interested to see where it goes.
I am curious where this is going. You gave just enough information to go, what the hell is happening?
Hmm, I was in a hurry to get the 1 week Thursday Prompt deadline...maybe I left a bit too much out.
Oh, oh. Those shapeshifter shards and unicorn magic (intentionally mischivious or not) water are triggering a cascade of issues.
The best offices need a little bit of chaos to slide things forward from time to time, don't they?
Breaking two of the biggest laboratory rules here: no safety gear AND no decontamination. Tsk, tsk...
Waking up to a bubble-gum golem of yourself sounds a touch frightening. I wonder where this is going to go.
Waking up to a bubble-gum golem of yourself sounds a touch frightening. I wonder where this is going to go.
I'm starting to wonder as well. I had some ideas but I'm starting to wonder how fast to let them unspool.
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