You'd never think that Kent Peters was a literate person just by looking at him.
On the surface the lad was about as generic and moronic as outlaws came, rushing headfirst into battle with a constant, grave overestimation of his luck, skill, and general value in the skirmish itself. Not once has he ever claimed victory in a close quarters one-on-one fight, and out of his numerous asinine leaps in logic he claims are "plans", only one actually succeeded, while most of the rest didn't even get past the "Hey what if we-" stage.
And yet, for as terrible as a combatant as he was, Kent wasn't in the gang for no reason. His early experience in breaking the law was not within the Burgundy or Emerald scarves, but rather in indirect service to the far more prestigious yet bluntly named "Tool Syndicate", a large scale, elegantly organised crime ring that rooted itself into the working class of various industrial service industries across the currently mapped territories, like mining, construction, gardening, transport, and in Kent's case, food production. During his time as a butcher's apprentice, an agent of the syndicate gave him a little side job behind his employer's back for a bonus pay, the simple task of mimicking the handwriting of the company's higher-ups. Kent was instructed to forge their signatures and grant the syndicate access to highly sensitive documents, allowing the gang to manipulate finances and gather plenty of dirt and leverage, and to his surprise, Kent found himself possessing an incredible talent for copying typography. Of course, when the veil was broken, Kent took the fall and had to flee town, ditching his chances of ever living a civilized life, yet his forgery skill never left his mind as he eventually joined up with whatever gang was pathetic enough to see him as valuable, which just so happened to be the Burgundy scarves.
And the burgundy scarves were....quite a downgrade from the syndicate's status.
Only their former leader, Romeo, at all noticed Kent's highly adaptive handwriting and bothered to utilize in the rare cases where the scarves needed as such. Meanwhile Tybalt was barely literate himself, and for as forgiving as Mercutio was now that the gang had rebranded into a new splinter faction, the rat man had yet to actually acknowledge anything beyond Kent's trusty handaxe, too busy trying to copy handwriting himself to let Kent take a crack at it.
However, while helping with organising a mundane shopping list a few days ago, someone did take notice of Kent's hidden skill.
Clunk-creeeak.
"Ah, Mr. Peters!" Dr. Minerva Talos beamed as she opened her front door to meet his gaze. "Thank you so much for coming, I-I'm sorry if this is a rather....unusual request."
"Daaah, don't sweat it boss." Kent chuckled with a dismissive wave. "Job's a job ain't it? I'm always up for good money from easy work, if ya catch muh drift?"
"Uh...I-I suppose so. Sh-shall we get started?"
"Aw yep." Kent nodded, as he began sauntering into the heart of the clinic, the good doctor closing the door before scuttling over to match his position.
The big backer client of the Emerald Scarves was a bit of an....oddball, from what Kent had gathered so far. A rich, mad scientist lady from that big ass school plague doctors came from. Seemed like she had her head screwed on straight most of the time, with all of the overly professional bullshit those in her field spew out on the regular. Yet on days like this, with not a lot of folk around, she acted like a weirdo, stuttering and squeaking like some kind of new-born puppy that didn't understand the concept of people not wanting to eat her. Kent had half a mind to believe she was two entirely different people on rotation, given how adamant the lass was on keeping her face hidden and how stark the personas switch around, but he never really saw any evidence for that theory yet, and even then he knew better then to openly admit any of his doubts or questions. Money talks better than personality in the world beyond law, and this "doc" has been paying the scarves better profits than they've had in years, so frankly in his eyes, she could act however she wanted as long as the coins kept shining on. Rich folk were rick folk, and some were just eccentric sometimes, who was he to complain?
Of course, there was the big drake in the room regarding Talos, the thing that set her apart from all of the other clients the scarves have had so far. The whole mad scientist part. Somehow, Kent had no idea how, but somehow, this lady had managed to staunch and even supress the whole "going crazy" bit of the....what was it called again? The...uh...munition? No, wait, that's not it. Uuuh... It's the-the disease that turns people into big animal people, the...uuuuh....fuck-the animal people curse, whatever. She had been infected by it, but through some science or spiritual gobbledygook Kent could never hope to follow, she found an exploit that let her stay in control whenever she changed into that huge-ass bird monster, rather than instantly going into "RAURGAWWUHRGARHGUHGRARAGYUH" mode like most of the usual animal curse infected. Ever since, Talos had made it her mission to replicate and reverse engineer her breakthrough as much as physically possible.
Which transitions nicely into the catch of her contracts, because anyone who worked for or even with her had to keep the upmost discretion on the project itself, lips sealed tight and witnesses taken out on anything to do with the discovery, lest the Trapper's union or her old scientist buddies piledrive her door in. On top of that, she was all to eager to "share" her gifts, encouraging a liiittle too hard for members of the Scarves to volunteer as her, well, guinea pigs. And as a result, almost all of the guys and gals in the gang let this nutcase jab 'em with this thing, and now they can turn into giant mice and squirrels and shit whenever they want, even the boss has it. Kent however wasn't too keen on the idea, he spent too long cutting and dicing up animals to ever think being one of them was a good idea, and he couldn't help but feel like the client sometimes found his refusal.....frustrating, especially when she's all feathered up and bird-like. How much of this was the lady herself, and not some kind of weird, overly complex mind control thing from the curse swimmin' inside her?
Ack, doesn't matter. Job's a job. The client was a paying customer and she didn't seem to have the balls to cross the scarves, so there was no need to get out of dodge just yet. Especially when some of her requests were quite literally:
"So you want me to write down some science notes?" Kent inquired with a puzzled glance, as he held up the worn leather bound journal Talos had him retrieve from her desk.
"In essence, yes." The client nodded as she busied herself with the lab equipment, stopping briefly to hand Kent a quill and ink. Not a pen huh? Must be one of those kinds of rich folk. "Tell me, are my handwriting and mannerisms easy for you to replicate?"
Kent went "Hmm" before quickly skimming through the plethora of previous entries. Seemed simple enough, a mostly professional style with a sprinkling of girliness thrown into some minor details, like the occasional heart as an i or j's tittle, or the elegant curves at the ends of letters, most likely done to entertain herself once the notes took too long to make. Sentences meanwhile were incredibly fancy, science-y, and verbose...y, with big words like "subsequently", "anatomical", and....the fuck does "podiatric" even mean? It was almost like she was trying a bit too hard to sound smart, maybe she didn't think this worthy of actual respect, and was reaching to make sure she wasn't proven right. Hmph, aight, this is fairly standard high-up management type shit, Kent could match this no problem. Although....sometimes the words looked like she was trying to write while being repeatedly punched in the face, with heavily inked letters, uncharacteristically mismatched spelling and grammar issues, and what seemed to even be small rips in the paper. The hell was that about?
"The hell is this about?" Kent piped up as he flipped the book to one of the more egregious examples and showed it to the little plague doctor. "You sometimes have a deep hatred for trees or somethin'?"
"O-oh, right, f-f-funny you mention that, actually, Mr Peters." Minerva giggled sheepishly. "That's um...sort of why you're here. See, I am the head-and only-researcher on this project, right?"
"Uh-huh?" Kent nodded, folding his arms.
"Well, I also happen to be a....p-primary test subject." Those last three words were said with a strange mix of pride and embarrassment.
"Yeah? So?"
"Sooo...I-I-I usually prefer having the recording done as I am conducting the experiment, so as to ensure I don't miss any details. But, as you have seen there on those...rather ragged pages, oh dear-Uh-I-I-I can't exactly....r-r-write and...t-tr-transform, at the same time. Who'd have guessed that bursting out of your clothes and swelling into a hulking anthropramorphic raven creature would be rather distracting?" Another highly sheepish, basically flustered giggle rebounded in that leather beak of hers.
"....rrrrright." Kent replied. "So, you want me to write down what happens when you're doing a thing, but don't want it to look like it's not you writing it?"
"...Y-yes."
".....aight." Kent shrugged.
"Excellent!" Minerva gleefully cried, bouncing up and down with a rapid clapping of her hands for good measure. "Okay, okay, here's what I intend to do."
The plague doctor's little boots then clicked against the floor as she scurried over to the middle of the lab, stopping to plop her hat down onto a nearby table before turning to face Mr. Peters. "I, am going to undergo a metamorphosis, but will attempt to supress the expansion of body mass, so as to remain as close to my original size as possible."
"....wwwhy?" Kent blinked after taking a moment to process and translate what he just heard. "I thought you guys liked being big?"
"Well...yes..." The client confessed with a blush Kent couldn't see. "But, to be perfectly honest, bigger might not always be better. I know, I know, it seems weird, like 'I'm already short, why would I want to get smaller?', is a question Shiny, the mercenary under my command, asked my plenty of times when I pitched the idea. But as I've explained to her and your commander, Mr Hermes, there may be a time or situation where the ability to shrink, rather than grow, would prove more useful. I mean think about it, what better way to escape one's bindings then to compress yourself enough so that they loosen? What if I'm too big to fit into a doorway, but don't want to revert into my human self entirely? And what if we could go further, shrink past our default human heights? Does the ability to become so small that you could crawl between the gaps of an enemy wall not seem ideal for rogues such as yourself?"
"uuuuuh-"
"P-point is, I believe it's something the mutation might be capable of. The fact that we can change size at all is indicative of the mutation being able to alter the density of muscle mass, and with partial changes, increases to physical endurance, regenerative healing, and even the sprouting of entirely new limbs, surely it's not too big of an ask to just....pause a bit of the alterations whilst the rest of the metamorphosis conducts, right?"
"uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh-"
"....ugh..." The good doctor suddenly scoffed. "Okay, nevermind. I'm sorry I...forgot you're not a mutant like the rest of us."
"Was that a bit of passive aggre-"
"Just-!....just....just work with me here, okay?" The little plague doctor seemed like she was going to shout, but instead released her tension with a sigh. "All you have to do is just write down what's happening, alright?"
"Pfft, okay." Kent simply chuckled in bemusement as he continued flicking through the book. "You're the one makin' this a big deal, not me."
"The page is entry number 67." Minerva hissed, her patience wavering. "I've already put in a bit at the start, see it?"
"Yup." Kent nodded as he dipped the quill into the ink and held it up. "Ready when you are, boss."
Minerva simply sighed and nodded for the go-ahead, before slowly steadying the pace of her breathes, taking deep inhales, nervous exhales, and then noticeably larger inhales with each passing cycle. And as she breathed, Kent could swear her body was subtly growing larger with each meekly taken gasp, the protective uniform shifting and pulling against gently swelling flesh inside. Well to be fair, Kent knew full well that the client was getting bigger, this was a known shape-shifter undergoing an experimental transformation, yet despite that, it was still so surreal to see this teeny little lady visibly grow and swell up in real time, like she was fresh loaf of bread in the oven. At least she noticed it herself, judging from the shy squeaks, whimpers, and moans Kent could just barely hear coming from that leather mask she wore. Other scarves with the animal people curse were keen to mention how 'good' the changes felt, giving them a nearly sex-like level of pleasure that they claimed was only improved by the agonizing pain of their warping bodies, and from what Kent knew about this bird gal, she seemed to be of a somewhat similar mindset. Kent was no kinkshamer, so to each their own he supposed.
And then, suddenly, the lady's body made a-
gguuuurrrgle-blubblub-blooorb
-noise.
"Hgk-!...mmrrr...rrrr....." The good doctor tensed up at this sudden jolt, her leather clad arms clutching and wrapping around her stomach as she doubled over, moaning, groaning, and purring.
Up to this point, Kent had been diligently scribbling down the transpiring events as per the instructions, but only as the client arched her back and allowed Kent to see the myriad of rippling lumps that bubbled and writhed underneath her now straining coat, did he think to actually process what he was seeing. Did....did her body do that before? Her wings obviously come from her back, so clearly there would be some weird shit going on in there. And plus, mutants tended to bubble quite often, that's just how the changes looked sometimes. But did they ever bubble this....aggressively? There were way bigger ones mentioned in the journal, brutes they were called, maybe they got like that because they were so big? Hang on....wasn't not getting big the whole point of this-
"Hgk-HRRRGH!" The good doctor then suddenly grunted loudly, as her body began to gurgle again. Now, Kent could see that her entire form was rippling, as if dozens of snakes were squirming and writhing underneath her clothes. Yes, that's right, the doc's trying to stop herself from growing at all, and already she's struggling due to how much bigger she had grown, roughly an average woman's height now. And though it was impossible to see her face, the body language and the cries were evidence enough to clue Kent in on how much the poor lass was straining to keep herself as small as possible. Was that why she was bubbling so much? Because she's like, mentally squishing her bits down? She's not doing a very good job at it.
"M-m-mrrrrrr-rrrr...." Talos was shaking now, shuddering as her body was now visibly throbbing, so much so that she looked like a pulsating heart. By this point, she was getting too big for that plague suit, as with a sudden 'POP!', her left sleeve burst across a bulging bicep, a tuft ink black feathers exploding from the gap. "Heh-...hehehhee...o-o-oh dear...ooorrrrrggh...." In spite what was clearly excruciating pain, the client was nervously chuckling to herself, shakily holding up her rippling left hand as it broiled and swelled before her. With this lapse in control, the glove that covered this hand quickly strained tighter and tighter, until with a jagged, noisy ripping, it burst across her palm, splitting and snapping into chunks of leather soon after, before it all cracked and popped off her wrist, leaving everything below the shoulder a naked, feathered, corvid like arm that was struggling hard to not suddenly grow into a monstrous state. At least she seemed to be having fun.
Kent meanwhile was still trying his best to record this nonsense, finding it rather tricky to keep his biases against such blatant body horror out of these clearly biased in favour notes. Of course, once the noises shifted from gurgling stomachs and cute little whimpers, to what sounded like bones being crunched, smashed, and ripped into pieces, accompanied by horrific shrieks, Kent found his concentration start to waver, just a tad.
".....You uuuuh...." The outlaw then finally piped up after what seemed to be the third time Minnie's spine was violently compressed, right before it arched fiercely and tore the back of her shirt and coat wide open. "Y-you good there?"
"Gck-O-oh!" Minerva gasped, as if she forgot Kent was even there. "Oooohhh....y-ye-EE-EEEs, I-I-I-I'm okay, i-it's okay! M-m-m-m-my c-con-tr-tr-trol is s-s-slipping at times, b-but y'know I-I-III-I think I'm doing pretty well-lll, a-aall things considered-"
PAP!
R-R-RIP,RI-RIP, RIPRIPRIP-RIIIIIIP-RIP-RIP!
"OH-Ohhh-ooooohhh...oh nooo."
While the good doctor's attempt at self-confidence was admirable, the sudden, swelling bulge of her thighs and subsequent bursting of her trousers, made it quite clear that she was not exactly backing up her words. Especially once her stomach began to gurgle again. In fact, it gurgled so much, that it caused her whole body to shake.
"oooooOOOOH! Oh no!" The poor girl whimpered. "OOooh no. Ooooh that...that didn't feel good..."
"Uh-"
"Ack! N-no-no, it's fine, it's fine, really!" Talos hastily reassured before Kent could even say anything, her squeaky voice slowly lowering into a more sultry, if still socially awkward tone. "I'm doing okay, I've made amazing progress actually! I just ne-eck. I-I-I j-just-j- I-jus- nee-EEEED-guh- I...IIIII-HAAAGH!"
You ever just blow up a balloon, then rapidly deflate it? Yeah that's what Minerva just did, with almost all of the clasps on her coat popping wide open to expose a feather coated torso, as the shirt underneath bursts into ribbons. Soon after, Kent picked up the now familiar sound of stretching leather, and found himself glancing down to find the source. There, he saw the client's boots in plain sight. Really fancy things they were, what with all the buckles and buttons and other words starting with B. A clear display of her wealth that the rest of her attire didn't seem to match, yet Kent doubted that the doc currently cared about how her boots looked, for her boots were....pulsing. The client's feet were swelling up, pumping and pumping inside her extravagant footwear, and Kent was fairly certain, judging from her squeals, that the client was uh.... acutely aware how how small her boots were getting.
"Hoooooonnnnnngh!" The little plague doctor whined and cried as her feet throbbed and throbbed, getting bigger, bigger, bigger. "I-I-IIIIII need.-need-...n-n-need these damn sh-sssshhrrrroes o-O-OOOOOFFUH!"
creee-eEE-EEE-EEEEAK-
POP! POP!
With loud, bursting pops, those fancy boots then violently ruptured and burst across throbbing, spongey flesh, thick and meaty bird talons spilling out onto the ice cold floor as their toes frantically wriggled and squirmed, the scraps of the client's boots tumbling on top of them. In response, the client could only gasp in shock, before sighing in blissful relief.
"he...nehe..." Came Minerva's faint giggle as her toes touched the chilly stone flooring. "mmm...ooo that's nice- HNNGRRCK!"
Minnie's brief slice of heaven however was then immediately -and, ironically- cut off by the sudden sprouting of adorable little cherub wings, bursting themselves right out of whatever cloth still managed to stay on her back with rather sickening cracks, the sudden force of their growth sending the client into an off balance stumble, the scraps of her boots tumbling off her throbbing bare feet. Soon after, with a much more pathetic ripping noise, the seat of Minerva's trousers tore open as a teeny little tail of feathers burst through her rump. All while the head piece of her mask was by now torn asunder, her head caked in a fine coat of gleaming black feathers.
To the lady's credit, she looked pretty darn close to achieving her intentions for today. Her right arm was very clearly still human, not even the sleeve or glove was torn, and she was still considerably bigger than her "default height", but aside from that, she was way smaller than what she normally grew to. So, good on her. Shame she couldn't seem to hold it.
Because as she teetered on that single foot, struggling not to fall over, another gurgle resounded. One that signalled a slip of concentration. "Okay.." Minnie said, clueless. "I feel.....r-really strange, but I think I-AAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAGH-HHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" Riiight before she exploded.
CRUNCH-POP-CRACKRACK-CKKK
"AAAA-A-AAH! HAAAA! HAAAAGH-NNNNAAAAAAAHAAAAAGH!!!!"
From Minerva's perspective, she's had to manually hold down her growth spurts during the entire metamorphosis, and by the end, every fibre of her being was screaming to grow, because that's what she was so accustomed to, that's how her brain was able to cope with the transfiguring body at this stage in her mutations. The closer she got to complete raven form, the harder it was to fall back into the biological autopilot, and once this razor thin focus finally slipped, what ever occurred in the haze of pain was ultimately an embarrassed plague doctor trying and failing to reign in her own accursed lust. She did pretty well all things considered, and she was proud of herself for that. But, in the end, the experiment was still a failure. Hopefully Mr. Peters was able to jot everything down at least.
Kent, meanwhile, was not a scientist. He was not a biologist, not a psychologist, and not even a mutant himself. So, there wasn't really any way someone could really, truly explain the uh....well, the screaming, screeching, writhing, crunching, snapping, absolutely disgusting mass of unstable, meaty, pitch black feathery sssshhhhcolp that was at one point, a tiny little woman who was going to pay him money. I'm not even sure if I can really articulate what kind of absolute nightmare fuel Kent got a front row seat towards. Should I say how the shadow was writhing and twitching so much that it cast the room into darkness? Try to describe the screams of excruciating pain and terror mixed in with the distorted caws and screeches of a bird sounding like it was getting ripped open or crushed? Perhaps I could mention the sudden sprouting of brand new, tear soaked eyes across Minnie's back that stared directly into Kent's, or perhaps the thrashing plant-like vines that briefly burst out of Minnie's skin and lashed at the boy, only to slither back into her flesh, or the bone spikes that ripped through her spine, and then shrunk back into normal bones? Or, should I just leave that all up to your imagination?
Whatever the case may be, Kent didn't have a good time. Even as the transformation stabilized with a final, concluding throb, with the adorable hulking raven beast now flat on her back on the floor, an annoyed expression on her beak, and her big, heavy, cuddly bare feet dangling in the air, Kent's facial expression was so horrified, it bordered on hilarious.
".....BUGGER!" The sudden, deepened voice of a transformed Minerva Talos belted to finally break the silence. "Ugh, I thought I really had it that time!" With a grunt, the engorged harpy then sat herself upright, her glare softening ever so slightly once her sexy talons were in her view. "Typical, I get partial transformation right on the first try, so I get the idea that I'm an ace at this. I really need to reign in this bloody ambition of mine..."
"u-" Was all that Kent, with his mouth agape, could splutter. ".....uh-huh..."
"Oh well, we got pretty close all things considered." Minerva replied with brightened spirits, not at all noticing Kent's demeanour. "At the very least, you got all that, right Mr. Peters?"
"Uh-"
"Lemme see!" The client then beamed more, as one of her massive taloned feet suddenly lifted itself up towards Kent and grasped the journal with its toes, the digits moving with a dexterity and finesse that rivalled even the most skilled of scarf hands, in spite of their hulking size. Kent obviously didn't protest, he simply just let the raven beast criss-cross her legs into a yoga-like seated position as she eagerly read through the text, before her brow furrowed.
"Mr. Peters." A displeased Minerva sighed. "You were paying attention to my changes, right?"
"Uh-"
"You had my handwriting done up pretty well admittedly, even had my little stars and hearts in there~." The harpy continued as she pointed to the open page, before frowning again. "Buuuuut.....You kinda stopped after my boots popped." Despite her more levelled and stabilized mind, the mere mention of the destruction of her footwear cast a blush into Dr. Talos' feathered cheeks, as her hand almost automatically swivelled down to lazily stroke the criss-crossed bare feet. "Which I.... well, I don't blame you I suppose, my feet are indeed very beautiful, they tend to distract me all the time."
"Tha-....that's uh.... not-"
"But! We have to stay focused here, okay? My work is important, Mr. Peters, far more than any simple heist or contract. You have no idea just how badly I want this research to succeed, and frankly, that's alright. You're just here to give whatever services you can in exchange for some gold, and knowing-or contributing- to my work, isn't really a necessity, just as long as you're able to pull some other kind of weight around my territory, I'll be happy to welcome you! But just so we are clear, I don't want things getting in the way, in my way, especially when I've asked them to help me in the first place. M'kay?"
Was-....was that a threat?
"Was that a-"
The client giggled. "Yes...yes...I was being just a little passive aggressive, sorry." The smile was as sheepish and genuine as the blush on her cheeks, yet the piercing yellow eyes were glaring right into the boy. "I'm just a little bitter from all the soreness at the moment, y'know? Growing that much really does a number on my tendons, which of Mr. Hermes' men was a masseuse again?"
"R-...Riley?" Kent spluttered.
"Ah, yes, once you get back to camp, could send them my way please?"
"....sure...."
Minerva then clapped her hands together. "Thank you! Oh you've been such a great help Mr. Peters, I hope I get to work with you more often, you're surprisingly professional once you're in non-combative circumstances. Your payment is just in that cupboard over there, see it?"
"M-mMm-hm" Kent nodded as he moved over to where that terrifyingly huge raven monster was pointing. Even sitting on her rump on the floor, she still towered over him. He made no delay swiping the coin purse she indicated for him to collect. Soon after, he was already hurrying to the door, just barely mumbling out a "P-PLEH-plEaSUre DOinG bUISInesS with yOu!"
"Take care Mr. Peters!" The bubbly bird girl cheerfully called as she waved him goodbye. "Tell Mercutio I said Hi plea-"
SLAM
"HOOOOOOoooooooo....." Kent could've knocked over a shack with the force of his held in exhalation, as he nearly feinted against the heavy wooden door behind him.
What the fuck did he just witness? What the fuck is that crazy witch doing with the scarves, with herself? What the fuck has he gotten himself into?! This shit, this was a far cry from the simple times of betraying his loving employers for the Tool Syndicate, no wonder he and Tybalt got along so well, Mercutio's a fuckin' nutcase to wanna agree to this freaky bullshit! Absolutely no goddamn way was he gonna let himself get infected with that curse now, knowing what it has in store for these maniacs. Maybe he should cut his losses, finally call it quits for the scarves and go join another gang? The Welders were the Syndicate's biggest rivals, maybe he could get some insurance with his insider intel. There's gotta a way better alternitive out there than risking his neck with fucking monster people breathing down it, especially if the average side hustle pay with that lady totals up to-
20 Gold.
20 gold, for writing some homework.....
......Weeeeell.....they haven't tried eating him yet. Couldn't hurt to uh, stick around just a little longer, eh? Rake in just a little more cash, hang out with the guys he's at least friends with? No reason he has to leave like, right now.
I mean, what is he, an idiot?
....
Don't answer that.
Now this, this had to be a special one. Friday the 13th, IN OCTOBER? I had to do something special. So with this art, by the lovely Tomek1000, I couldn't help but get the impression that despite being fully transformed, little Minnie here looks much smaller than she usually does with coated with feathers. So, why not have her do an experiment where she's trying to stay small but still bird-like?
And then, as an extra caveat, why not, in the spooky season spirit, try to make it....well, spooky? We all think Minerva talos is a loveable, socially awkward bundle of joy....eeeeven though she's supposed to be evil. But that's kind of because we've only seen her through her perspective, or those of her closest friends. What about someone who isn't her friend? Who isn't even a mutant? What about someone who....Might not think Minnie's very cute?
So, I hope you guys don't pull your hair out in the presence of Kent. Because he's gonna be here often, whether you like it or not.
GAZE UPON THINE KENTUCKY BITCH
Also happy Friday 13th, spooky edition ™. yey.
Artwork by: Tomek1000
On the surface the lad was about as generic and moronic as outlaws came, rushing headfirst into battle with a constant, grave overestimation of his luck, skill, and general value in the skirmish itself. Not once has he ever claimed victory in a close quarters one-on-one fight, and out of his numerous asinine leaps in logic he claims are "plans", only one actually succeeded, while most of the rest didn't even get past the "Hey what if we-" stage.
And yet, for as terrible as a combatant as he was, Kent wasn't in the gang for no reason. His early experience in breaking the law was not within the Burgundy or Emerald scarves, but rather in indirect service to the far more prestigious yet bluntly named "Tool Syndicate", a large scale, elegantly organised crime ring that rooted itself into the working class of various industrial service industries across the currently mapped territories, like mining, construction, gardening, transport, and in Kent's case, food production. During his time as a butcher's apprentice, an agent of the syndicate gave him a little side job behind his employer's back for a bonus pay, the simple task of mimicking the handwriting of the company's higher-ups. Kent was instructed to forge their signatures and grant the syndicate access to highly sensitive documents, allowing the gang to manipulate finances and gather plenty of dirt and leverage, and to his surprise, Kent found himself possessing an incredible talent for copying typography. Of course, when the veil was broken, Kent took the fall and had to flee town, ditching his chances of ever living a civilized life, yet his forgery skill never left his mind as he eventually joined up with whatever gang was pathetic enough to see him as valuable, which just so happened to be the Burgundy scarves.
And the burgundy scarves were....quite a downgrade from the syndicate's status.
Only their former leader, Romeo, at all noticed Kent's highly adaptive handwriting and bothered to utilize in the rare cases where the scarves needed as such. Meanwhile Tybalt was barely literate himself, and for as forgiving as Mercutio was now that the gang had rebranded into a new splinter faction, the rat man had yet to actually acknowledge anything beyond Kent's trusty handaxe, too busy trying to copy handwriting himself to let Kent take a crack at it.
However, while helping with organising a mundane shopping list a few days ago, someone did take notice of Kent's hidden skill.
Clunk-creeeak.
"Ah, Mr. Peters!" Dr. Minerva Talos beamed as she opened her front door to meet his gaze. "Thank you so much for coming, I-I'm sorry if this is a rather....unusual request."
"Daaah, don't sweat it boss." Kent chuckled with a dismissive wave. "Job's a job ain't it? I'm always up for good money from easy work, if ya catch muh drift?"
"Uh...I-I suppose so. Sh-shall we get started?"
"Aw yep." Kent nodded, as he began sauntering into the heart of the clinic, the good doctor closing the door before scuttling over to match his position.
The big backer client of the Emerald Scarves was a bit of an....oddball, from what Kent had gathered so far. A rich, mad scientist lady from that big ass school plague doctors came from. Seemed like she had her head screwed on straight most of the time, with all of the overly professional bullshit those in her field spew out on the regular. Yet on days like this, with not a lot of folk around, she acted like a weirdo, stuttering and squeaking like some kind of new-born puppy that didn't understand the concept of people not wanting to eat her. Kent had half a mind to believe she was two entirely different people on rotation, given how adamant the lass was on keeping her face hidden and how stark the personas switch around, but he never really saw any evidence for that theory yet, and even then he knew better then to openly admit any of his doubts or questions. Money talks better than personality in the world beyond law, and this "doc" has been paying the scarves better profits than they've had in years, so frankly in his eyes, she could act however she wanted as long as the coins kept shining on. Rich folk were rick folk, and some were just eccentric sometimes, who was he to complain?
Of course, there was the big drake in the room regarding Talos, the thing that set her apart from all of the other clients the scarves have had so far. The whole mad scientist part. Somehow, Kent had no idea how, but somehow, this lady had managed to staunch and even supress the whole "going crazy" bit of the....what was it called again? The...uh...munition? No, wait, that's not it. Uuuh... It's the-the disease that turns people into big animal people, the...uuuuh....fuck-the animal people curse, whatever. She had been infected by it, but through some science or spiritual gobbledygook Kent could never hope to follow, she found an exploit that let her stay in control whenever she changed into that huge-ass bird monster, rather than instantly going into "RAURGAWWUHRGARHGUHGRARAGYUH" mode like most of the usual animal curse infected. Ever since, Talos had made it her mission to replicate and reverse engineer her breakthrough as much as physically possible.
Which transitions nicely into the catch of her contracts, because anyone who worked for or even with her had to keep the upmost discretion on the project itself, lips sealed tight and witnesses taken out on anything to do with the discovery, lest the Trapper's union or her old scientist buddies piledrive her door in. On top of that, she was all to eager to "share" her gifts, encouraging a liiittle too hard for members of the Scarves to volunteer as her, well, guinea pigs. And as a result, almost all of the guys and gals in the gang let this nutcase jab 'em with this thing, and now they can turn into giant mice and squirrels and shit whenever they want, even the boss has it. Kent however wasn't too keen on the idea, he spent too long cutting and dicing up animals to ever think being one of them was a good idea, and he couldn't help but feel like the client sometimes found his refusal.....frustrating, especially when she's all feathered up and bird-like. How much of this was the lady herself, and not some kind of weird, overly complex mind control thing from the curse swimmin' inside her?
Ack, doesn't matter. Job's a job. The client was a paying customer and she didn't seem to have the balls to cross the scarves, so there was no need to get out of dodge just yet. Especially when some of her requests were quite literally:
"So you want me to write down some science notes?" Kent inquired with a puzzled glance, as he held up the worn leather bound journal Talos had him retrieve from her desk.
"In essence, yes." The client nodded as she busied herself with the lab equipment, stopping briefly to hand Kent a quill and ink. Not a pen huh? Must be one of those kinds of rich folk. "Tell me, are my handwriting and mannerisms easy for you to replicate?"
Kent went "Hmm" before quickly skimming through the plethora of previous entries. Seemed simple enough, a mostly professional style with a sprinkling of girliness thrown into some minor details, like the occasional heart as an i or j's tittle, or the elegant curves at the ends of letters, most likely done to entertain herself once the notes took too long to make. Sentences meanwhile were incredibly fancy, science-y, and verbose...y, with big words like "subsequently", "anatomical", and....the fuck does "podiatric" even mean? It was almost like she was trying a bit too hard to sound smart, maybe she didn't think this worthy of actual respect, and was reaching to make sure she wasn't proven right. Hmph, aight, this is fairly standard high-up management type shit, Kent could match this no problem. Although....sometimes the words looked like she was trying to write while being repeatedly punched in the face, with heavily inked letters, uncharacteristically mismatched spelling and grammar issues, and what seemed to even be small rips in the paper. The hell was that about?
"The hell is this about?" Kent piped up as he flipped the book to one of the more egregious examples and showed it to the little plague doctor. "You sometimes have a deep hatred for trees or somethin'?"
"O-oh, right, f-f-funny you mention that, actually, Mr Peters." Minerva giggled sheepishly. "That's um...sort of why you're here. See, I am the head-and only-researcher on this project, right?"
"Uh-huh?" Kent nodded, folding his arms.
"Well, I also happen to be a....p-primary test subject." Those last three words were said with a strange mix of pride and embarrassment.
"Yeah? So?"
"Sooo...I-I-I usually prefer having the recording done as I am conducting the experiment, so as to ensure I don't miss any details. But, as you have seen there on those...rather ragged pages, oh dear-Uh-I-I-I can't exactly....r-r-write and...t-tr-transform, at the same time. Who'd have guessed that bursting out of your clothes and swelling into a hulking anthropramorphic raven creature would be rather distracting?" Another highly sheepish, basically flustered giggle rebounded in that leather beak of hers.
"....rrrrright." Kent replied. "So, you want me to write down what happens when you're doing a thing, but don't want it to look like it's not you writing it?"
"...Y-yes."
".....aight." Kent shrugged.
"Excellent!" Minerva gleefully cried, bouncing up and down with a rapid clapping of her hands for good measure. "Okay, okay, here's what I intend to do."
The plague doctor's little boots then clicked against the floor as she scurried over to the middle of the lab, stopping to plop her hat down onto a nearby table before turning to face Mr. Peters. "I, am going to undergo a metamorphosis, but will attempt to supress the expansion of body mass, so as to remain as close to my original size as possible."
"....wwwhy?" Kent blinked after taking a moment to process and translate what he just heard. "I thought you guys liked being big?"
"Well...yes..." The client confessed with a blush Kent couldn't see. "But, to be perfectly honest, bigger might not always be better. I know, I know, it seems weird, like 'I'm already short, why would I want to get smaller?', is a question Shiny, the mercenary under my command, asked my plenty of times when I pitched the idea. But as I've explained to her and your commander, Mr Hermes, there may be a time or situation where the ability to shrink, rather than grow, would prove more useful. I mean think about it, what better way to escape one's bindings then to compress yourself enough so that they loosen? What if I'm too big to fit into a doorway, but don't want to revert into my human self entirely? And what if we could go further, shrink past our default human heights? Does the ability to become so small that you could crawl between the gaps of an enemy wall not seem ideal for rogues such as yourself?"
"uuuuuh-"
"P-point is, I believe it's something the mutation might be capable of. The fact that we can change size at all is indicative of the mutation being able to alter the density of muscle mass, and with partial changes, increases to physical endurance, regenerative healing, and even the sprouting of entirely new limbs, surely it's not too big of an ask to just....pause a bit of the alterations whilst the rest of the metamorphosis conducts, right?"
"uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh-"
"....ugh..." The good doctor suddenly scoffed. "Okay, nevermind. I'm sorry I...forgot you're not a mutant like the rest of us."
"Was that a bit of passive aggre-"
"Just-!....just....just work with me here, okay?" The little plague doctor seemed like she was going to shout, but instead released her tension with a sigh. "All you have to do is just write down what's happening, alright?"
"Pfft, okay." Kent simply chuckled in bemusement as he continued flicking through the book. "You're the one makin' this a big deal, not me."
"The page is entry number 67." Minerva hissed, her patience wavering. "I've already put in a bit at the start, see it?"
"Yup." Kent nodded as he dipped the quill into the ink and held it up. "Ready when you are, boss."
Minerva simply sighed and nodded for the go-ahead, before slowly steadying the pace of her breathes, taking deep inhales, nervous exhales, and then noticeably larger inhales with each passing cycle. And as she breathed, Kent could swear her body was subtly growing larger with each meekly taken gasp, the protective uniform shifting and pulling against gently swelling flesh inside. Well to be fair, Kent knew full well that the client was getting bigger, this was a known shape-shifter undergoing an experimental transformation, yet despite that, it was still so surreal to see this teeny little lady visibly grow and swell up in real time, like she was fresh loaf of bread in the oven. At least she noticed it herself, judging from the shy squeaks, whimpers, and moans Kent could just barely hear coming from that leather mask she wore. Other scarves with the animal people curse were keen to mention how 'good' the changes felt, giving them a nearly sex-like level of pleasure that they claimed was only improved by the agonizing pain of their warping bodies, and from what Kent knew about this bird gal, she seemed to be of a somewhat similar mindset. Kent was no kinkshamer, so to each their own he supposed.
And then, suddenly, the lady's body made a-
gguuuurrrgle-blubblub-blooorb
-noise.
"Hgk-!...mmrrr...rrrr....." The good doctor tensed up at this sudden jolt, her leather clad arms clutching and wrapping around her stomach as she doubled over, moaning, groaning, and purring.
Up to this point, Kent had been diligently scribbling down the transpiring events as per the instructions, but only as the client arched her back and allowed Kent to see the myriad of rippling lumps that bubbled and writhed underneath her now straining coat, did he think to actually process what he was seeing. Did....did her body do that before? Her wings obviously come from her back, so clearly there would be some weird shit going on in there. And plus, mutants tended to bubble quite often, that's just how the changes looked sometimes. But did they ever bubble this....aggressively? There were way bigger ones mentioned in the journal, brutes they were called, maybe they got like that because they were so big? Hang on....wasn't not getting big the whole point of this-
"Hgk-HRRRGH!" The good doctor then suddenly grunted loudly, as her body began to gurgle again. Now, Kent could see that her entire form was rippling, as if dozens of snakes were squirming and writhing underneath her clothes. Yes, that's right, the doc's trying to stop herself from growing at all, and already she's struggling due to how much bigger she had grown, roughly an average woman's height now. And though it was impossible to see her face, the body language and the cries were evidence enough to clue Kent in on how much the poor lass was straining to keep herself as small as possible. Was that why she was bubbling so much? Because she's like, mentally squishing her bits down? She's not doing a very good job at it.
"M-m-mrrrrrr-rrrr...." Talos was shaking now, shuddering as her body was now visibly throbbing, so much so that she looked like a pulsating heart. By this point, she was getting too big for that plague suit, as with a sudden 'POP!', her left sleeve burst across a bulging bicep, a tuft ink black feathers exploding from the gap. "Heh-...hehehhee...o-o-oh dear...ooorrrrrggh...." In spite what was clearly excruciating pain, the client was nervously chuckling to herself, shakily holding up her rippling left hand as it broiled and swelled before her. With this lapse in control, the glove that covered this hand quickly strained tighter and tighter, until with a jagged, noisy ripping, it burst across her palm, splitting and snapping into chunks of leather soon after, before it all cracked and popped off her wrist, leaving everything below the shoulder a naked, feathered, corvid like arm that was struggling hard to not suddenly grow into a monstrous state. At least she seemed to be having fun.
Kent meanwhile was still trying his best to record this nonsense, finding it rather tricky to keep his biases against such blatant body horror out of these clearly biased in favour notes. Of course, once the noises shifted from gurgling stomachs and cute little whimpers, to what sounded like bones being crunched, smashed, and ripped into pieces, accompanied by horrific shrieks, Kent found his concentration start to waver, just a tad.
".....You uuuuh...." The outlaw then finally piped up after what seemed to be the third time Minnie's spine was violently compressed, right before it arched fiercely and tore the back of her shirt and coat wide open. "Y-you good there?"
"Gck-O-oh!" Minerva gasped, as if she forgot Kent was even there. "Oooohhh....y-ye-EE-EEEs, I-I-I-I'm okay, i-it's okay! M-m-m-m-my c-con-tr-tr-trol is s-s-slipping at times, b-but y'know I-I-III-I think I'm doing pretty well-lll, a-aall things considered-"
PAP!
R-R-RIP,RI-RIP, RIPRIPRIP-RIIIIIIP-RIP-RIP!
"OH-Ohhh-ooooohhh...oh nooo."
While the good doctor's attempt at self-confidence was admirable, the sudden, swelling bulge of her thighs and subsequent bursting of her trousers, made it quite clear that she was not exactly backing up her words. Especially once her stomach began to gurgle again. In fact, it gurgled so much, that it caused her whole body to shake.
"oooooOOOOH! Oh no!" The poor girl whimpered. "OOooh no. Ooooh that...that didn't feel good..."
"Uh-"
"Ack! N-no-no, it's fine, it's fine, really!" Talos hastily reassured before Kent could even say anything, her squeaky voice slowly lowering into a more sultry, if still socially awkward tone. "I'm doing okay, I've made amazing progress actually! I just ne-eck. I-I-I j-just-j- I-jus- nee-EEEED-guh- I...IIIII-HAAAGH!"
You ever just blow up a balloon, then rapidly deflate it? Yeah that's what Minerva just did, with almost all of the clasps on her coat popping wide open to expose a feather coated torso, as the shirt underneath bursts into ribbons. Soon after, Kent picked up the now familiar sound of stretching leather, and found himself glancing down to find the source. There, he saw the client's boots in plain sight. Really fancy things they were, what with all the buckles and buttons and other words starting with B. A clear display of her wealth that the rest of her attire didn't seem to match, yet Kent doubted that the doc currently cared about how her boots looked, for her boots were....pulsing. The client's feet were swelling up, pumping and pumping inside her extravagant footwear, and Kent was fairly certain, judging from her squeals, that the client was uh.... acutely aware how how small her boots were getting.
"Hoooooonnnnnngh!" The little plague doctor whined and cried as her feet throbbed and throbbed, getting bigger, bigger, bigger. "I-I-IIIIII need.-need-...n-n-need these damn sh-sssshhrrrroes o-O-OOOOOFFUH!"
creee-eEE-EEE-EEEEAK-
POP! POP!
With loud, bursting pops, those fancy boots then violently ruptured and burst across throbbing, spongey flesh, thick and meaty bird talons spilling out onto the ice cold floor as their toes frantically wriggled and squirmed, the scraps of the client's boots tumbling on top of them. In response, the client could only gasp in shock, before sighing in blissful relief.
"he...nehe..." Came Minerva's faint giggle as her toes touched the chilly stone flooring. "mmm...ooo that's nice- HNNGRRCK!"
Minnie's brief slice of heaven however was then immediately -and, ironically- cut off by the sudden sprouting of adorable little cherub wings, bursting themselves right out of whatever cloth still managed to stay on her back with rather sickening cracks, the sudden force of their growth sending the client into an off balance stumble, the scraps of her boots tumbling off her throbbing bare feet. Soon after, with a much more pathetic ripping noise, the seat of Minerva's trousers tore open as a teeny little tail of feathers burst through her rump. All while the head piece of her mask was by now torn asunder, her head caked in a fine coat of gleaming black feathers.
To the lady's credit, she looked pretty darn close to achieving her intentions for today. Her right arm was very clearly still human, not even the sleeve or glove was torn, and she was still considerably bigger than her "default height", but aside from that, she was way smaller than what she normally grew to. So, good on her. Shame she couldn't seem to hold it.
Because as she teetered on that single foot, struggling not to fall over, another gurgle resounded. One that signalled a slip of concentration. "Okay.." Minnie said, clueless. "I feel.....r-really strange, but I think I-AAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAGH-HHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" Riiight before she exploded.
CRUNCH-POP-CRACKRACK-CKKK
"AAAA-A-AAH! HAAAA! HAAAAGH-NNNNAAAAAAAHAAAAAGH!!!!"
From Minerva's perspective, she's had to manually hold down her growth spurts during the entire metamorphosis, and by the end, every fibre of her being was screaming to grow, because that's what she was so accustomed to, that's how her brain was able to cope with the transfiguring body at this stage in her mutations. The closer she got to complete raven form, the harder it was to fall back into the biological autopilot, and once this razor thin focus finally slipped, what ever occurred in the haze of pain was ultimately an embarrassed plague doctor trying and failing to reign in her own accursed lust. She did pretty well all things considered, and she was proud of herself for that. But, in the end, the experiment was still a failure. Hopefully Mr. Peters was able to jot everything down at least.
Kent, meanwhile, was not a scientist. He was not a biologist, not a psychologist, and not even a mutant himself. So, there wasn't really any way someone could really, truly explain the uh....well, the screaming, screeching, writhing, crunching, snapping, absolutely disgusting mass of unstable, meaty, pitch black feathery sssshhhhcolp that was at one point, a tiny little woman who was going to pay him money. I'm not even sure if I can really articulate what kind of absolute nightmare fuel Kent got a front row seat towards. Should I say how the shadow was writhing and twitching so much that it cast the room into darkness? Try to describe the screams of excruciating pain and terror mixed in with the distorted caws and screeches of a bird sounding like it was getting ripped open or crushed? Perhaps I could mention the sudden sprouting of brand new, tear soaked eyes across Minnie's back that stared directly into Kent's, or perhaps the thrashing plant-like vines that briefly burst out of Minnie's skin and lashed at the boy, only to slither back into her flesh, or the bone spikes that ripped through her spine, and then shrunk back into normal bones? Or, should I just leave that all up to your imagination?
Whatever the case may be, Kent didn't have a good time. Even as the transformation stabilized with a final, concluding throb, with the adorable hulking raven beast now flat on her back on the floor, an annoyed expression on her beak, and her big, heavy, cuddly bare feet dangling in the air, Kent's facial expression was so horrified, it bordered on hilarious.
".....BUGGER!" The sudden, deepened voice of a transformed Minerva Talos belted to finally break the silence. "Ugh, I thought I really had it that time!" With a grunt, the engorged harpy then sat herself upright, her glare softening ever so slightly once her sexy talons were in her view. "Typical, I get partial transformation right on the first try, so I get the idea that I'm an ace at this. I really need to reign in this bloody ambition of mine..."
"u-" Was all that Kent, with his mouth agape, could splutter. ".....uh-huh..."
"Oh well, we got pretty close all things considered." Minerva replied with brightened spirits, not at all noticing Kent's demeanour. "At the very least, you got all that, right Mr. Peters?"
"Uh-"
"Lemme see!" The client then beamed more, as one of her massive taloned feet suddenly lifted itself up towards Kent and grasped the journal with its toes, the digits moving with a dexterity and finesse that rivalled even the most skilled of scarf hands, in spite of their hulking size. Kent obviously didn't protest, he simply just let the raven beast criss-cross her legs into a yoga-like seated position as she eagerly read through the text, before her brow furrowed.
"Mr. Peters." A displeased Minerva sighed. "You were paying attention to my changes, right?"
"Uh-"
"You had my handwriting done up pretty well admittedly, even had my little stars and hearts in there~." The harpy continued as she pointed to the open page, before frowning again. "Buuuuut.....You kinda stopped after my boots popped." Despite her more levelled and stabilized mind, the mere mention of the destruction of her footwear cast a blush into Dr. Talos' feathered cheeks, as her hand almost automatically swivelled down to lazily stroke the criss-crossed bare feet. "Which I.... well, I don't blame you I suppose, my feet are indeed very beautiful, they tend to distract me all the time."
"Tha-....that's uh.... not-"
"But! We have to stay focused here, okay? My work is important, Mr. Peters, far more than any simple heist or contract. You have no idea just how badly I want this research to succeed, and frankly, that's alright. You're just here to give whatever services you can in exchange for some gold, and knowing-or contributing- to my work, isn't really a necessity, just as long as you're able to pull some other kind of weight around my territory, I'll be happy to welcome you! But just so we are clear, I don't want things getting in the way, in my way, especially when I've asked them to help me in the first place. M'kay?"
Was-....was that a threat?
"Was that a-"
The client giggled. "Yes...yes...I was being just a little passive aggressive, sorry." The smile was as sheepish and genuine as the blush on her cheeks, yet the piercing yellow eyes were glaring right into the boy. "I'm just a little bitter from all the soreness at the moment, y'know? Growing that much really does a number on my tendons, which of Mr. Hermes' men was a masseuse again?"
"R-...Riley?" Kent spluttered.
"Ah, yes, once you get back to camp, could send them my way please?"
"....sure...."
Minerva then clapped her hands together. "Thank you! Oh you've been such a great help Mr. Peters, I hope I get to work with you more often, you're surprisingly professional once you're in non-combative circumstances. Your payment is just in that cupboard over there, see it?"
"M-mMm-hm" Kent nodded as he moved over to where that terrifyingly huge raven monster was pointing. Even sitting on her rump on the floor, she still towered over him. He made no delay swiping the coin purse she indicated for him to collect. Soon after, he was already hurrying to the door, just barely mumbling out a "P-PLEH-plEaSUre DOinG bUISInesS with yOu!"
"Take care Mr. Peters!" The bubbly bird girl cheerfully called as she waved him goodbye. "Tell Mercutio I said Hi plea-"
SLAM
"HOOOOOOoooooooo....." Kent could've knocked over a shack with the force of his held in exhalation, as he nearly feinted against the heavy wooden door behind him.
What the fuck did he just witness? What the fuck is that crazy witch doing with the scarves, with herself? What the fuck has he gotten himself into?! This shit, this was a far cry from the simple times of betraying his loving employers for the Tool Syndicate, no wonder he and Tybalt got along so well, Mercutio's a fuckin' nutcase to wanna agree to this freaky bullshit! Absolutely no goddamn way was he gonna let himself get infected with that curse now, knowing what it has in store for these maniacs. Maybe he should cut his losses, finally call it quits for the scarves and go join another gang? The Welders were the Syndicate's biggest rivals, maybe he could get some insurance with his insider intel. There's gotta a way better alternitive out there than risking his neck with fucking monster people breathing down it, especially if the average side hustle pay with that lady totals up to-
20 Gold.
20 gold, for writing some homework.....
......Weeeeell.....they haven't tried eating him yet. Couldn't hurt to uh, stick around just a little longer, eh? Rake in just a little more cash, hang out with the guys he's at least friends with? No reason he has to leave like, right now.
I mean, what is he, an idiot?
....
Don't answer that.
Now this, this had to be a special one. Friday the 13th, IN OCTOBER? I had to do something special. So with this art, by the lovely Tomek1000, I couldn't help but get the impression that despite being fully transformed, little Minnie here looks much smaller than she usually does with coated with feathers. So, why not have her do an experiment where she's trying to stay small but still bird-like?
And then, as an extra caveat, why not, in the spooky season spirit, try to make it....well, spooky? We all think Minerva talos is a loveable, socially awkward bundle of joy....eeeeven though she's supposed to be evil. But that's kind of because we've only seen her through her perspective, or those of her closest friends. What about someone who isn't her friend? Who isn't even a mutant? What about someone who....Might not think Minnie's very cute?
So, I hope you guys don't pull your hair out in the presence of Kent. Because he's gonna be here often, whether you like it or not.
GAZE UPON THINE KENTUCKY BITCH
Also happy Friday 13th, spooky edition ™. yey.
Artwork by: Tomek1000
Category Artwork (Digital) / Transformation
Species Corvid
Gender Female
Size 2262 x 1629px
Picturing the intense and crazy pain and body horror that just happened, only to end with such a plain "bugger" certainly got a laugh out of me XD
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