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Lilium's Short Stories - Lilium Mortem - 09-04-2024
This is the thread where I'll be sharing all my short stories, usually cross-posting them from elsewhere. Feel free to comment and discuss these stories in this thread, the Index in this post is here for a reason.
INDEX
Transformation Rehab
A recently turned werewolf learns where people go to get help after a magical change.
Dragon Bard
A strange bard tells a tale of Dragons.
THE END
Two women face an end.
INDEX
Transformation Rehab
A recently turned werewolf learns where people go to get help after a magical change.
Dragon Bard
A strange bard tells a tale of Dragons.
THE END
Two women face an end.
RE: Lilium's Short Stories - Lilium Mortem - 09-04-2024
Transformation Rehab
"In your own words, what is the nature of your transformation?""Lycanthropy right? I'm a werewolf now, but can't get back to my human form."
"Expand upon that, what does it mean to be a werewolf? what changes have you experienced and how do they make you feel?"
"Well the bite hurt like hell, still stings even weeks later. There's the fur obviously, and it makes clothes annoying to wear, like, itchy. The moon makes me full of so much energy I want to burst, and I have the urge just to run around as fast as I can. Strangely no desire to hunt, I get hungry, but thinking about how to solve that I just want a burger, I don't feel predisposed to violence like I'd thought I'd be. The shape of my mouth and lips makes it hard to eat, and hard to talk, but I got that under control by now. Noises are louder, scents have more... depth? To them that I still can't really figure out besides like, memorizing which scent means what."
"Ok, Good. On a scale of one to ten, how distressing do you find your transformation?"
"Five? Maybe four? Never good with this ten point scale shit. It's a big hassle mainly, like I'm still me, but every time I move, every breath I take, I'm reminded how different I am now, and I just want things to be familiar."
"Are you aware the procedure to reverse Lycanthropy is rather long and intensive?"
"Yeah, I looked into it. Shit scares me more than getting bit does. Did they ever find the bastard that did it?"
"I'm not privy to that information, let's stay on topic. How do you feel about the Transformation Adaptation and Rehab Center?"
"So far? It's nice, not clinical even though there's medical stuff. I was worried coming to TARC, but being here, besides how weird everyone looks, it seems fine, like a nice but not too nice hotel."
"I'm glad you're finding it to your liking. How willing do you think you are to follow your treatment plan and engage in TARC's optional programs?"
"I'm totally willing to listen to you guys. You're the expert. I just want to get back to normal, whatever that is. as for optional programs, you mean like, pottery classes? Book clubs?"
"Yes, that's the general idea. We want your time here to give you social connections and more broadly a fulfilling life while you're with us. To that end it's encouraged that you reach out and find something you enjoy."
"In that case I guess I'll take another look through the booklet you guys gave me, but I'd rather spend a few days settling in first if that's alright."
"That more than reasonable, so long as you do not use your adjustment period as an excuse for shutting yourself away."
"Got it."
"Ok, I think I have a reasonable measure of you and your state of mind. One last question: what are your goals here? What kind of fix to your situation do you hope we can provide? What are you planning after?"
"That's more than one question"
"Ah. Yes I apologize. Still, may I have your answer?"
"Don't worry about it. And I guess. Like I've been thinking about it, but I don't know? Like I don't feel too attached to how I was, but there's a lot of things, some of which I just told you, that are annoying or uncomfortable about this form. I guess I just want to figure out where to go from here? Is that ok?"
"More than ok, It's rather normal for our clients to not know how to deal with changes or if they want them reversed. A lot of people are comfortable as they are just because that's how they were born, how they were raised. They're comfortable because they are what they are and never consider that they could be something else. When they do become something else they find themselves asking if they always felt comfortable because their previous form was their 'correct' body, or if they can be comfortable with how life ends up shaping them, or even realizing that they want a different shape. Figuring that out is all part of the process here."
"Huh, never thought of it like that. I guess I did take being human for granted. Guess I have some work to do then."
"We all do, in our own way. That's all I need from you for now. Your luggage should have been moved into your room by now. Ask the front desk for directions. Your lanyard acts as a key for your room. It's enchanted, not an electronic lock, so long as you're wearing it you can open the door."
"Thanks."
"You are welcome. Please enjoy your stay and I wish you well on your recovery, in whatever form it might take."
Loren made their way down the halls of the housing building. On the fourth floor, at room 410, they stopped. Beside the door was a plaque that he took a moment to read
'Loren Penn - He/They
Samuel Smith - He/Him'
'Huh,' Loren thought, 'Pronouns by the names, that's awfully considerate for a medical facility. Then again, it does have a lot of influence from Ether-Side.'
Having satisfied his curiosity, Loren moved to press their lanyard against the door's lock, but it seems even getting close was enough. When he thought about all the various shapes people might end up in and their lack of thumbs, it made sense.
Pushing their way inside revealed a surprisingly roomy apartment, with a kitchenette and everything. Whistling, He made his way into the living room where a person made of translucent green slime wearing a tank top and sweatpants was laying, Samuel, Loren presumed.
"Loren, I presume." The man said. Loren couldn't help but be drawn to the large bust filling out the tank top, and the generally feminine form of the slime.
"Shit, sorry" Loren said, "I didn't mean to stare."
"It's cool, I get it, everything is new and weir- oh, wait you meant my boobs" He laughed. "I'm not trans or anything, just got stuck with some kind of sex spell turned curse that made me a slime girl. "
Loren just stared at the man, "what."
"It's a whole thing" he shrugged, making his chest jiggle. Boobs did not move like that. Loren tried not to look. "Some pervert wizard in 90s Ether-side made bank selling stuff like this, apparently. "
"Oh my god that's so fucking stupid." Loren said without thinking.
Sam laughed and slapped his thigh, which jiggled through the sweatpants. "Yeah, it really is. Let me tell you: I looked the fool when I got cursed. Wish someone got a picture of my face."
"Well, you seem to be taking the changes fairly well." Loren commented, taking a seat in a chair that had a hole for his tail. Convenient.
"I mean, I'd like to think I'm a pretty chill guy, but I am still freaking the fuck out on the inside." Sam said, a touch more seriously, "I'm dealing, there's therapy and shit, but like. It sucks so bad, nothing is where it should be and while I can concentrate to change my appearance It's hard, and I'm still made of slime."
"Shit, sorry." Loren said, looking away. "Didn't realize it was so bad for you, I'm just kinda tired of. Well, all this, and want things to go back to normal. Sounds like you have some serious dysmorphia."
"Yeah. I'm working on it, just don't go stepping around eggshells on my account."
"Can do, where's my stuff?"
"In your room, the one on the left."
Loren slid the door open. While the front door was a more traditional swinging door, the interior doors were all sliding. There were several indents up the side of the door that could be used like handles to pull it open and closed. When it was closed it would latch automatically, and pulling away from the door on the indents undid the latch. Another surprising accessibility feature for people of all shapes.
But it didn't stop at the door. The bed was fairly low to the ground, and seemed to be almost built into the floor, with a step-up as well as a gentler ramp. It was also huge. Bigger than a queen-sized, probably to abominate larger shapes. The dresser and closet had large handles that would be easy to hook any appendage onto, and there were light switches at two different heights, simple large buttons that toggled the lights on and off, rather than the traditional up and down switch.
Sitting by the bed were Loren's things. On top of his suitcase was a pamphlet about TARC's free tailoring service and attached clothing shop.
'Jesus Christ they thought of everything.' They thought, shaking their head. It was honestly a lot. With a sigh, he flopped down on their bed, wincing when his tail got pinched. He still wasn't used to it and defaulted to laying on his back.
Checking their phone, and being careful with their claws, Loren made sure that he didn't have any commitments for the rest of the day. After letting Sam know not to disturb them, he laid down for a nap. Today was already enough.
Loren was woken up with a pillow to the face. They flailed around, clawing at the pillow to get it off. Sam was standing in their doorway with a shit eating grin. He had put on a gray pull-over hoodie that obscured his figure and was wearing sneakers.
"Ring a ding ding, that's the dinner bell. C'mon, we should head towards the cafeteria." He said, gesturing towards the apartment door.
"Ugh, don't we have a kitchenette?" Loren asked, grimacing as he noticed how much his claws ripped up the pillow that was thrown at them.
"Yeah, but we don't got anything fancier than a toaster oven. We don't even have a full-sized fridge. It's meant to force us outside so we don't just spend our time here cooped up. Plus the food is good and free. Ether-Side healthcare is something else."
Loren sighed, and then noticed the pamphlet he left on the nightstand. "Alright, sure, I need tail holes or something put into most of my pants anyway and that's free too."
After dropping off most of their pants and shorts at the tailor's, which was staffed by an anthro feathered raptor and a humanoid pile of floating rocks, The two of them made their way to the large cafeteria near the center of the complex.
"Is it usual for non-humans to be part of the staff here?" Loren asked as they walked, "I mean, I didn't see that many during the intake process."
"Well..." Sam took a second to compose a reply, "There are certainly a significant number of Etherians on staff, and they tend to be more species diverse, just because we had almost entirely humans before Convergence on this side. But on the other hand, this place handles difficult cases regarding magical transformation, which means that they have to understand magical transformation, and have samples of potions and cursed/enchanted items. And well... that ends up with easy access to transformation stuff, so people mess around with it, and sometimes find they prefer certain forms, or just like switching around for some variety."
"I guess that makes sense?" Loren said, scratching the back of their head, then wincing because of their claws.
"Just imagine having, like, a vending machine filled with potions that'd change your form temporarily just sitting in your workplace. Each one is, like, the cost of a candy bar. You'd get curious at some point, right?"
"Yeah,"
Before Loren could come up with anything else to say, they reached the cafeteria, which was more like a mall food court. It was a wide open space under a glass roof, with various planters breaking up the space.
There were seating arrangements of every kind. Benches, cushions, beanbags, booths, small chairs, tall chairs, and more that Loren couldn't begin to describe. And the People. The sight of the crowd was the most alien thing Loren had ever seen since the Convergence. People of every shape and size sitting and eating, laughing or brooding. There was an angel playing cards with a robot. A mermaid in a wheelchair sitting with five identical giant spiders. There was an entire section of the floor for tiny creatures that looked like a diorama of the cafeteria in miniature.
"Holy shit." Loren said.
"Yep, what do you want to eat?" Sam asked, gesturing to a large digital display that was currently displaying a menu along with directions to the counters that served those foods. "Also got any allergies or dietary restrictions?"
"Uhh... was only told I should avoid wolfsbane and silver, and didn't have any allergies as a human."
"Lucky, I have a terrible allergy to peanuts that somehow followed me into this body, when I can digest literary any other organic material. I even accidentally ate the leather of my dad's good recliner." Sam said, shaking his head. "How do you feel about burgers? Can't go wrong with a classic."
"Sounds good to me."
After scanning their ID cards at one of the counters and making our orders, they got their trays and headed to one of the more normal tables, though all the seats seemed to at least have a tail hole. Which, while convenient, made Loren feel uneasy for some reason.
"Hey check this out," Sam said, rolling up a sleeve and picking up a single french fry.
Loren gave him a questioning stare, then right before their very eyes, the fry got sucked into Sam's gelatinous hand with a wet *SHLORP*. Loren shivered and felt his hackles rise. The fry proceeded to travel up Sam's translucent arm and into his torso.
"What the fuck, man?" Loren asked, angrily patting down his floofed up fur.
"C'mon, don't be a buzzkill" Sam complained, slouching back in his chair, "This mouth I have is for show, I don't need to breathe, I'm actually speaking by magic, and I can eat with any part of my body. Isn't that at least a little bit cool?"
"Maybe if it wasn't so fucking gross." Loren grumbled.
"Ok, fair." Sam said, admitting defeat and beginning to eat his food like a normal person.
"So how long have you been here?" Loren asked, taking a wolf shaped chomp out of their burger, "You seem really knowledgeable about the place."
"About a week," Sam said. "Had a living suit of armor as a roommate before you for like, two days before they cracked the curse and reverted him."
"How do you feel about the 'extracurricular activities' they encourage here?"
"There's video game tournaments Thursdays. I can't do too many of the more active activities because I have trouble holding myself together. Like literally, I can fall apart if I strain myself too much. There's also the board game meetups Tuesday/Friday/Saturday/Sunday that are fun. Got a group that plays trading card games I meet up with."
Loren fell silent after that, having exhausted their social prowess. Luckily, Sam picked up the slack and homed in on a TV show the both of them had seen to talk about. The conversation felt nice, without the awkward air that had become common since Loren had transformed. He felt like a person again, talking to another person, rather than some monster, or a cripple, or like they had a disease.
"Welcome to werecreature orientation, My name is Silvia Brinston," An absolutely ripped werewolf with a Mohawk addressed Loren and two other people.
One was a werecat, and the other seemingly human, but didn't smell right. It was 8AM and the cat girl looked like she was dead on her feet. They were in something of a cross between an auditorium and a small classroom. One of many for just such an occasion.
"Since we have another werewolf in attendance today, I'm going to set expectations by describing how Werewolves, and other were creatures, differ from Terran myth." The totally shredded Mr. Brinston continued,
"Firstly, the largest misconception is about the danger werecreatures pose to others. While the bite of another werecreature turns you into one, there's no 'beast inside' or other such nonsense that drives one to violence. Wolves are not angry creatures, most animals aren't. They have needs and wants like any other creature. A starving wolf may be tempted to hunt humans if there are no other options, no matter how bad an idea it knows that is. But a content wolf? Or even a hungry one with options? It'll steer clear of humans and only go after prey animals it knows are safe.
"You do not lose your senses when transformed, you gain new ones sure, new urges, but we're all animals already, they are easily manageable, usually not any more intense than an intrusive thought.
"Werewolves are empowered by the moon, and other werecreatures have their own sources of power, like werecats and sleep, or werelizards and the sun" Brinston said, turning to each of the other people in turn. Loren noted that the human form man must be a werelizard. "When the power of the moon is overflowing, such as a full moon, werewolves are forced into what we call a 'full-form'. When the power of the moon is absent, such as the new moon, we are stuck in our original or base form, which for you is human. In-between those two extremes is a form we can take, called a 'mid-form', which is somewhere between our original shape and the shape of our full-form.
"With practice, and adequate energy, we can control which form we are in outside the two extremes of our respective empowering forces. This, along with how to take care of the needs of your animal half, are what you will be learning in this class."
The next two hours were very informative for Loren. He learned the history of the werecreatures, their needs, and the sources of power that fueled them. They learned meditation techniques that should help them control their form, ways of exercising that would burn off the excitable energy of the wolf, how to control the supernatural strength afforded by his form, how to properly care for their fur, along with loads of smaller things that would make life easier as a werewolf.
When Loren was about to get up to leave, Brinston stopped him. "Hold up there, Penn, I need to talk to you."
Loren sighed and leaned against the door frame as the other two werecreatures left.
"Look, The full moon is two nights away." Brinston said, eyes assessing Loren as if he was looking for weakness. "We're going to go run around in the woods, just you and me."
"Thanks, but I made sure we had blackout curtains." Loren said, dismissing the man.
"Did you hide away from the last full moon? It's been what? A month and a half since you were bit?" Brinston crossed his arms and shot a glare that made Loren shiver.
"Yeah, and so what?" Loren nearly yelled, irritated, "Sure I felt like shit that night, but I don't want to go running around out of control, even if you tell me I'm not gonna hurt anyone. I don't want to lose myself, even for a second."
Brinston lifted a hand and snapped his claws right in Loren's face, making them flinch and blink. "Lost control of yourself right now, didn't you? I went over this. Your mind isn't going to go away, you aren't going to be some monster. All you have are reflexes, instincts, needs. You keep ignoring those needs you are going to hurt yourself.
"Sure things are different under the full moon, you feel things more strongly, you're full to burst of energy, and your senses are sharpened. But all you need is a little play, some exercise, and you'll be right as rain. In fact, you'll feel fantastic!"
"...Play?" was the most coherent thing Loren managed to ask, stunned and confused.
"Yes! You know, fun?" Brinston asked, raising an eyebrow, "I'm not taking you out into the woods to go kill some deer, you need to de-stress, Penn."
"But turning into a wolf under the full moon is extremely stressful I would think!"
"That's just it, it's what you think will happen. Once it actually happens you'll see there's nothing to fear, and you'll be full of energy with the need to do something about it. So we run around in the woods, or play tag, howl at the moon, go swimming, whatever! As long as you can work through that energy." Brinston laid a massive pawed and clawed hand on Loren's shoulder. "I can't make you, but you should come. That's the official stance of TARC as part of your treatment plan."
"...I'll think about it." That was all Loren could promise.
Brinston nodded, lifted his hand, and walked out the door. Loren let his mind wander as he made his way back to their room. They wanted things back to normal, they were even ok with their 'midform'. But the idea of changing again, into a full wolf? That terrified them, even if it'd go away once the sun rose. It'd be like the bite all over again.
Despite, or maybe because of all his reluctance, Loren had to make a firm decision. With that in mind They needed some time to think.
RE: Lilium's Short Stories - Lilium Mortem - 09-04-2024
The Dragon Bard
There's a *SNAP* as loud as a whip crack, that draws your attention to the simple wooden stage as a beam of magic light illuminates it. Conversations die down as a figure, dragging a stool, steps up on the stage and sits down.
The figure would be tall for a human, if you could make out their species under their outfit. A green shawl over leather armor embossed with flames, serpents, and Celtic knots. It shows no skin, but the biggest thing that draws your attention was the mask they wear.
It's a lovingly carved wooden dragon head, worn almost as a helmet, that has brilliant green cats eye marbles in place of eyes that seemed to stare directly at you. You have no idea how they could see out of it, besides magic, obviously.
Grabbing a lute(did they always have that?) the bard, it's obvious to you now they're a bard, began tuning. After a few seconds they began playing a haunting tune.
"Let me tell you a story" They say, voice at the perfect volume to be heard, even where you are sitting. More magic? You don't have much experience with capital B Bards.
"A story about the dragons of this world." they punctuated that line by getting up, kicking the stool off the stage, and throwing their lute up in the air. You flinch back reflexively.
And then there's another *SNAP* and you realize that the bard is snapping their fingers. Green sparks explode from their hand, forming into ethereal copies of their own. The phantom hands catch the lute and continue playing as the bard fills the stage with their presence.
"Long ago, before the world there was darkness"
The lights shut off.
"And then there was a spark. And fire!"
A spark became visible from the stage, and then the bard appears, cupping a wild flame in their hands.
"This was the fire of creation. With it the gods were born, but even before them, the dragons arrived."
The flame splits up into rainbow riot of tiny flaming dragons that fly around the stage, each one being thrown by bard before opening its wings to fly under its own power.
"Many a being has tried to define what a dragon is. even the gods were sure in their answers, but they never quite lined up" The bard said, turning their back to the crowd and walking to center stage and doing a heel face turn. "Are they monsters? Hoarders? Tyrants? Villains? Or Guardians, Champions, Heroes?
"No one knows, except the dragons themselves. The things we are sure of is that they are Ancient, Immensely powerful, and magical in a way different from all other creatures."
The tiny fire dragons slowly fade, and the flame goes from a wild roar to a sedate candle flame, cupped close to the bard's heart.
"The rest of knowing a dragon is a feeling. Something you can only get from meeting one, as I did."
"This feeling can bring kings to their knees, and even make a god flinch. And to those that believe themselves powerful, the feeling of knowing a dragon is a threat."
The bard brought the flame up to the mask's mouth, and blew it out. The spotlight slowly rose on them as they fold their hands behind them and walk back and forth on the stage.
"We don't know how exactly the dragons of this world were reduced to beasts of legend, only the why. Simpleminded tyrants that did not want competition. And yet, they still live."
"Before I mentioned dragons 'arriving', and this story being about those of 'this world'. There's a simple fact I have left out until now. Dragons are universal, they exist in every world and in the hearts of those that sing their legends."
They drop onto the stool, which somehow got back on the stage, and the lute falls from the air with another *SNAP*. They begin picking up the pace of the tune, turning it into something dramatic.
Your heart is racing. What is this feeling?
"Dragons still live in this world. They still live in our hearts, they can even live as one of us without knowing it."
The world drops away. You panic. Were you- no, That would be ridiculous. You can't just be a beast of legend... right?
"All it takes, to know a dragon, sometimes, Is learning how to meet yourself"
And then, as the song reaches its end, the spotlight fades, and the Bard is gone from the stage, not even taking a bow.
The crowd gets up and cheers. You clutch your heart, and make your way to the exit. The crowd makes it hard, their rowdy presence suffocating, hard to navigate. Someone bumps into you, and slips something into your hand, but you can care about that later. Eventually you make it out into the cool night air and take a breath.
Sighing, you check your hand, and your heart stops. You're holding a flame, and you get that feeling again. Looking around you, you catch a single glint of green in the distance before turning your attention back to your flame.
Your flame.
RE: Lilium's Short Stories - Lilium Mortem - 09-12-2024
THE END
CW: Blood, Gore, Death
CW: Blood, Gore, Death
"FUCK!" Jak yelled, pulling Bea into an alley. "Keep pressure on the wound, but keep moving!"
"J, I don't think I can do this..." Bea said, holding her stomach and leaning against a wall.
There were more bangs and shouts coming from the street. Jak looked forward, the end of the alley let out into another street... that was starting to fill with smoke. Jak pulled at her hair, trying to think, when she jostled her glasses.
"YES!" She said, pulling them off.
"The hell?" Bea muttered.
Jak didn't have time to explain. She had learned to lock pick(god what a silly thing to do to impress a girl) a while back. You need two things to open a regular deadbolt: a torsion wrench, which is basically any kind of thing you can wedge into the lock to make it turn when you want it to turn, and a pick, anything you can use to set the pins.
Jak had learned that with the rubber protectors removed from the ends of her glasses arms, they made a decent torsion wrench. Moving to one of the back doors in the alley, she pulled the forms she'd brought in her bag and pulled the paperclip off to fasion a pick.
Twenty seconds later they were in, the sound of sirens and megaphone boosted police commands fading behind them Jak closed the door.
Laying Bea gently down on a couch in the break room of some shoe store, Jak went to search for some kind of med kit and found one in the bathroom.
"Ok, let's get that mask off you." Jak said, pulling the N95 off Bea's face.
...She looked so pale.
"J, It's fine." Bea smiled weakly.
That snapped Jak out of it and into motion. Shirt cut open, fresh wad of gauze on the wound... there was an exit wound, that was good right? Eventually Jak had gotten to the end of her first aid knowledge and just slumped down next to the couch.
"We can't leave, help isn't coming any time soon." Jak said, muffled explosions punctuating her remark.
"J, If this is it-"
"DON'T TALK LIKE THAT!" Jak roared, making Bea flinch.
"J..."
"I'm sorry. I just-, this isn't the end."
"What if it is? I don't feel good, J."
"Then it was all for nothing." Jak shifted, turning away from her fellow activist.
"It wasn't for nothing." Bea said weakly, closing her eyes.
"We could have had a nice life. Just walked away and lived out in the sticks or something. We could be happy."
"We both know that isn't true. We wouldn't be able to find jobs, we'd be harassed, discriminated again still, and we'd be worse people."
"But we didn't have to fight!" Jak yelled, starting to cry "we didn't..."
"But I'm glad we did. All the smiles, the people we helped. The community we built. So we got hurt, so we suffered, but at least we've shown that a better world is possible. And we got to live there, in the good times. With our friends, our community. That was worth it."
"It's- It's not worth it if-" Jak choked back a sob, "If you die!"
"I'd die a thousand times If I could see one girl like Sara, or a guy like IO, smile and be themselves. Maybe I'm not kind enough to myself, but it's the truth. We made a difference."
"But we didn't change the world, not like you wanted." Jak shifted, turning to lean into Bea's side, damn the blood.
"We could never have changed the world." Bea said, smiling. "Not by ourselves. But we still changed lives, including each others. I'm happy with how things turned out, even if there's still more to do. There will always be more to do..."
"We- we can still do it!" Jak stammered, holding Bea's hands in her own.
"I don't think I'm going to make it, J" Bea said with a weak smile.
The world fell out from under Jak. Bea had to survive, she had to! What would living mean without her? Would the community they built scatter to the winds? What about all those times Jak needed a shoulder to lean on? That was a world that seemed far worse than dying.
"Please" Jak whispered, invoking any kind of deity, any kind of help, her tears running down her cheeks and falling onto the hands cupped in her own.
"I love you" Bea croaked out.
Sobbing, Jak held Bea until her body started going cold.
Three months later, Jak looked at her empty apartment.
"Sad to see it go?" IO asked, balancing a box on its shoulders, showoff.
"Yeah. I still miss her, and I don't want to leave this place behind." Jak said, sighing.
"We all loved her. I know you loved her. But we have to move on."
"Yeah... Do you think it was worth it?" Jak asked.
"Was what?" IO asked.
"Everything."
IO put the box down and thought about it. A couple of minutes later he nodded, and moved Jak out of the empty apartment that was once the home she shared with Bea.