‡ thin†skin ‡

[SHIVERS]

Nothing drastic.
Not yet.




You're exhausted.

And you need to relax.

This is too much to deal with.








You're a little scared to sleep, though.
No matter how woozy you feel,
no matter how hard it is to keep your eyes open.

Just

stay up, for now.

Relax.











You grab the remote.


tv, then

tvs a good distraction









It defaults to a 24/7 weather channel.






Okay, you are in Idyth,
at least according to this.

In Trinity, the biggest city in Sirocco and... maybe its capital?
You've never been. 
You don't know.

You think it's in northwest Sirocco, so right in the heart of Idyth.
You aren't sure.

You want to check,
but you have no phone; no nothing.








If this isn't a dream,
if you're in Idyth



then there's a whole ocean between you and Salem.





You can


worry about that later.



















Looks like lots of rain.













The simplistic music is grating on you.

You switch the channel.












Something about cars.

Click.






A sitcom.
One your family used to watch.

Click.







The nature channel has some fishing show on.

This isn't so bad.
















Something about the box of hooks makes you uncomfortable.
You don't dwell on the feeling.


Click.




Click.




Click.









You flip through a few more, 
starting to get to the end of available channels.









You stop on a random channel.

There's a show on about
wildlife?
Conservation or... something similar.
You aren't really sure.

They mention a few towns,
some you recognize.

It seems like this takes place around Mytt.



You've never lived there,
but you've been a few times.
You grew up just east of there, just out of Idyth,
before you moved to Eva Sierra in your 20s.




You don't miss that place.


But


the outdoors - the animals, the landscapes -
were one of the only good parts.

You never got to see much of it, before.



You were preoccupied at home.









Somehow,
it's 


calming, seeing this now.





You leave it on.



















But you aren't all that focused on it.






Thoughts are starting to catch up with you.













You


shouldn't have been able to read the pamphlet

right?



If this were a dream,
you likely wouldn't be able to.

Isn't that a thing?
Something you learned about?


You don't remember enough of your own dreams to know if it's accurate,
but

you think it's a thing.






If that's true,
you shouldn't be able to watch TV, either.

...Right?



Yet here you are.
Doing that.

And it seems coherent enough.










You shift uncomfortably in the bed.
Annoyed at the resulting squeak.
Annoyed at the pain in your leg.







This could be denial.



But


it's protective.


You don't want to consider that possibility.






That this 

might be-












You look at your paw.


It's not yours,
but it moves as you will it to.













You don't know anything about flexins.

You didn't, before this, anyway.




You think 
you saw one on TV one time.


You thought it was some kid in a costume, or something like that.
















What god

ever thought flexins

were a good idea?





If



If they weren't a thing

or if they were different



you wouldn't have to be like this.






Gods never did seem to make good decisions, though.

There are plenty of other species with weird and awful problems to deal with.

You remember learning about concepts when you saw them around more,
after your move to Eva Sierra.
You looked them up.

The possibility of death by puberty, was

something that stuck with you.






Horrible.










You don't know if this is worse or better.



Concepts can eat.
They have a motif - some weird body theme.
They have to deal with that.

But they can eat.
They have normal lives, after that change.








If you're a-





If
you're 

this, then










You've never been good at making friends.
You can't talk to people to save your life.
You aren't likeable.
You aren't attractive.
You aren't remotely interesting.
You aren't even fun.

Being
whatever this is
won't change that.












If you had to


talk a lot




maybe it would work with just Salem?

They talked a lot about support networks; lots of friends, community.




If you started with just Salem

and maybe

made a friend or two, as you went on-

If that would
work, somehow, for this



maybe it wouldn't be so bad...












You




You don't want to do that to her, though.

Her having to deal with you more than she does already.




You'd just drive her crazy, 
if you had to talk to her more often.












You probably wouldn't even stay friends.







And then

you would




die

from being a flexin
who is alone.












You don't want to think about any of that.

What does all that matter right now, anyway?




You don't even know if she's alive,
and here you are wallowing about yourself.




You bring your paws up, smacking them together against your cheeks,
trying to regain your composure.



The sound is humiliating.

You're worried people in the hallway heard.















Whatever.




So, you need to be able to use these stupid paws better.

Maybe thinking less is the trick?

The pamphlet was easy to turn,
but
it felt... different.
Like it was some specially-designed material.
Probably made for flexins.

It almost seemed to cling itself to your hands.



So, not really proof of anything.






You're too tired to practice right now, anyway.

Later.







You shift to the side


and your tail pops up again, nearly smacking you in the face.

You hurriedly shove it back away.




You hate that thing.



Axolotls tended to have large tails,
but you're a hybrid; with a lot of other species.
You never cared to look much into your family history regardless.

Either way, 
you've been spared having some big, useless appendage in the way until now.

It sucks.
You want very badly to chop it off and just
seal the wound, after.
You're in a hospital.
It'd be easy.




Nothing drastic, though.




















Thoughts come slower and slower,
making less and less sense.





A quiet pain pulses in your leg.







Rest



might be
good.





Maybe you'll wake up


at home


not a balloon.





























































































Your eyes open.



The previous night fades into memory.






You're in the hospital.
You are a balloon.


You groan audibly,
annoyed even more at your high-pitched voice.









phone


You crane your squeaky neck to check the time.

It's 7:54 AM.
Almost time for the phone.



You slept longer than you thought you would,
but it still doesn't really feel like enough.

You feel vaguely like shit.

Probably because there's a hole in your leg.













You draw your attention to the TV,
which you left on last night.



It's the news.


"-Our top story today:
Tech and media company Gradient is under investigation
after footage released of a supposed flexin spawning at
a New Year's celebration, in their branch 
right here in Sirocco."

Your face pales.



Video is shown
at a familiar party
with familiar tables.



A flexin
pops into existence with audible fanfare

stumbling on the stage.



There's a rip in its leg.







It speaks,
and though the sound is muffled,

you know exactly what it's saying.



"........Sss... Sa... lem...?"


The balloon dog collapses.

You feel lightheaded.



The man on stage seems dumbfounded.





The footage cuts back to the newscaster.



"Spawning a flexin without a permit
is considered a serious crime in Idyth.
Law enforcement and officials from the Idyth Construct Support Department
are looking just who conducted the spawning ritual,
as there were no obvious signs observed at the time.
Our correspondents caught up with Wolf Wedmore;
a spokesman for Gradient who happened to be on stage
with the flexin when they were spawned."



You peer above your paws,
hardly able to look at the TV.


A microphone is held up to the suited feline,
standing outside a large building.

"Of course, officials have the full cooperation of Gradient.
Rest assured, 
we want to know how this happened just as much as they do.
But more than that: 
This flexin, who was tragically spawned without a permit,
won't be receiving the high level of support a permit grants.
We at Gradient are stepping in on their behalf, though.
As far as I'm concerned: 
Even though they spawned with no official involvement from Gradient,
they're an honorary part of the Gradient family.
We'll make absolutely sure they get the help they need in this difficult and confusing time.
Thank you."


Back to the newsroom.


"The flexin in question allegedly suffered a severe injury to their leg during spawning,
and were quickly rushed to a local hospital here in Sirocco.
They're expected to make a full recovery.

Ted, back to you--"







You sink back into the bed.

Your view distorts.



oh i am Fucked.

i am so
So
fucked



You're panting.




One of your paws is by your muzzle.

You feel no air coming out.




You're not really breathing,
just making sounds.











i need to get the FUCK out of here



NOW




You catch your fake breath.




wait but


It's 8:02 AM.




phone.
phone first



You reach for it.


You ignore the pain in your leg,
straining.





You touch the edge of the phone base.

No matter what you try,
you can't grab it.


come ON




Even if you could,
you probably can't dial it.





i need to get out of this bed

i can manage the leg
have to


You ready yourself to swing your legs off the bed.


wait the IV--

A knock comes to your door.

You flinch.



The door opens.










You try to still your panicked expression.


It's hard.







You finally turn your head to look,

and find your view moving further downward than expected.







A black flexin 
in a thin, white coat and a purple button-up shirt
stands beside your bed.

They're holding a clipboard, which they're writing on as they observe you.



They wield the pen like it's nothing.



"Good morning.
I'm Dr. Mernes.

How are you feeling today?"



You mimic swallowing on instinct.


"...h-haha



That's uh-


I'm



I'm here.




...um.



Could you uh

help me with the phone?"




They glance up from their clipboard.


"Why do you need the phone?"
"There's just

a person I need to call.

...She doesn't know I'm here, in the hospital
and I just-

She

she might also be hurt, and


and I just
need to talk to her. That's all."


" . . . 


Let's get through this visit first,
then I'll help you with the phone if you still need it.

Is that alright?"




You nod.



"Good.

First off,
I know it hasn't been that long,
but have you thought of a na--"
"Bones.
Bones is my name, and it-

...I go by Bones."

"...and any thoughts on pronouns?"

"It/its."

"...Got it.

So,
Bones:
What do you know about what happened to you;

How you got here?"





truth?


should i tell them i-









fuck it.

if i try to lie right now ill implode
i cant take this








You take a breath.



" . . . 



...I'm not a flexin."

"...Okay.
Can you tell me about-" "Like I know I am Right Now;
this... is a flexin body, but...

I wasn't one on new year's.
Something... happened to me."

" . . . 

You're aware new year's eve was several days ago?
It's January 4th."


"...n... no.
Didn't know that."
"That's okay.
Tell me what happened."

Their pen scratches furiously along the clipboard.
It's distracting.

"Well...

I don't know all of it, but...



My friend called me out to-
This was, um-

I lived in- I live, in- near, um... 
Union.
In Delve.
...In Eva Sierra.

...and I was there on New Year's Eve."

They glance up.

"I... I know it sounds crazy, but-"
"You can continue."
"...okay.

My friend called me downtown on New Year's.
I hadn't... been doing well,
so she brought me downtown.

We um...
...well...

We went up onto the roof of some warehouse there -
to watch the fireworks.

...We stood up to watch,
the roof caved in,
we both fell.



The last I saw her,
she was on the floor of the warehouse,
not moving.

I... uh..."



You stop yourself from breathing heavily.



"...I

fell into some kind of

weird, shiny... container that was in there;
or, maybe it was a big cage.
I don't know.

It looked like glass, but

when I fell through the roof, it didn't quite break like glass.


I... really don't know about it.
But,
when I fell, my leg got cut up pretty bad.





Anyway,



...I know you aren't going to believe me,
but


something. Was in there."
"'Something'?"

"They were, like-


I didn't get a great look,
but they were... tall,
and... curved, um... vertically,
almost like a snake.

They were taller than me - and I'm-
I... Was, 6'3".
They put a claw on my head and I couldn't move.

Picked me up and moved me around like I didn't weigh anything at all,
talked to me while I was bleeding out.



...I don't remember everything they said.

Something about fate.
It's... fuzzy, now, but-




They... messed with me,
did something to me.






Next thing I remember is
being on that stage, sort of




then waking up here."






They're writing something.



You don't know what to do, or say.

You're on auto-pilot.



"How did you look before?"
"I was, uh

I mean I- I am a hybrid, of some kind,
but mostly... an axolotl."
"And you remember being that?"
"...yeah?
Like I

remember growing up, and everything.
I remember my parents, I remember school.
...my memory's always been kinda fuzzy but like


like they're not... 'inherited', if that's what you're getting at.

It feels real.
Like Me."


doesnt it?




"...There's still a chance they could be inherited memories
from the ones who spawned you.
They can get jumbled up in the process and become confusing,
especially to your sense of identity.

Do you remember anything else?

Any memories stick out as odd?"












You think about

that period of time




between the warehouse


and the stage.










"...Nothing."

"There is a chance this could be magic, then.

Likely scrap magic; 
though I've never heard of it being capable of this.

The individual you encountered in the warehouse could have something to do with it,
but that's really not my place to say.



From my own expertise:
Your situation is highly unusual.

You seem to have a clear and concise sense of identity already;
which isn't impossible,
but is unlikely for a flexin to sort out this quickly.

You spawned with a severe injury;
which I'll need to take a look at here in a moment.
And, this injury is explained by your story - events prior to your spawning.

And, your morph isn't one I've ever seen before;
and it isn't one fitting of the event you spawned at."

"...My morph?
Flexins have morphs?"

"When flexins are spawned,
they tend to take on physical characteristics that are representational
of the event or environment they spawned at.
Your patterns - from what I can see of them - don't evoke the party you were at at all,
and your features - the wings, the halo, and that collar - 
aren't themed after it, either--" "Sorry, my what?"



They simply nod in your direction.



You reach up.





You tap something floating above your head,
causing it to wiggle.

You try to pull it down,
but you can't grasp it.



You check behind yourself;
tiny wings are, in fact, there,
both having a soft and almost fake downy texture to them.


Lastly,
around your neck;

a collar, with rounded spikes.





why

would that thing
put me in 


in-

"...Can
I get these off?
H-Help, please--"

You're already searching for a latch on the collar.

"...
The wings and halo especially seem to be tied to your form.
I wouldn't try to remove them; they're likely a part of your body.

The collar, however, looks like it moves independently."

You're still fumbling with it.
You can't get a decent grip.

"It still could be tied, but I could look for a way to release it.
Lift your chin."

You do so.



You can feel them reaching around at it.




SHNK.

The doctor flinches back.



"...What?
What happened?"

"...the spikes sharpened and extended themselves.

It... definitely seems to be under some magic;
likely cursed to prevent removal.

A specialist may be able to help.
Be careful with it in the meantime."


You can hear the spikes retract themselves.
You try not to wince.



"It does seem like there's some magic at play here.
Whether it explains the full extent of your spawning,
I can't say,
but... this does seem like it was done deliberately.

I do need to ask plainly, though:
Do you believe your form has been changed, altered, cursed or mutated?"


"...yes?"



"Then I can make a referral to a transformational recovery clinic.
Your situation is uncommon,
but similar things happen more often than you might think."

"So, they can... fix this?"

"At the very least, they'd likely have more answers for you."




thats



thats good news.
i can-


if-

if this is rea-

its probably real.

but i can get it fixed
i wont have to deal with this for long





You breathe your first sigh of relief
since this all started.

You close your eyes,
trying to savor it.


"...How about we look at that leg, Bones?"


"...mhm."







Carefully, the doctor makes their way around to your right leg,
lifting the blanket off of it.

Examining the bandage.


"...It looks like they didn't have medicated bandages available.
Not ones that'd work for flexins, anyway.
...Have you been in pain?"

"...yeah."

"That's alright, I've got some here.

This may sting,
but try to stay still for me, okay?"








The bandage is quickly undone.



As soon as your leg is exposed,
the surrounding air seems to filter in as your internal air filters out.

It burns like salt in a wound.




You wish you had teeth to clench.
You close your eyes, pressing your paw as hard as you can into the bed.

You can't help but whimper, annoyed that you've done so.


"Almost done."


You can feel them wrapping the new bandage around,
but it feels like it's taking ages.



You can feel yourself tearing up as the new bandage makes contact with the wound,
but no tears fall.
You can't make any real ones.



The pain quickly begins to subside.


"The good news is that it's looking great;
almost completely sealed up.
The bad news is that it's going to be weaker for a few more days, and you'll likely scar;
you'll need someone to help change your bandage to keep the pain down.
Don't try to do it yourself yet.
Best not to test your coordination,
and the medication may make you dizzy from time to time; it's strong stuff.

...I think we can get that IV out of you.
But I need some reassurance first."

You look over.

"You're going to need to be around other people and socialize.
That needs to be part of your normal routine; 
with several people, several times a day, at least; ideally more than that.
You can't be fully on your own right now, anyway.
So, will you do that?
For your own sake?"

"......yes."

"Good. Doctor's orders.
...Stay still one more time for me."


Dr. Mernes makes quick work of taking out the IV and patching up the wound.


"...They did the IV right, at least..." They mutter.
"Shouldn't need more than a simple patch for it.
I don't imagine you'll need to change it; it can get wet, and it should seal up quick.
Just leave it on a few days just in case.

Now, we'll see if you can walk okay, and if you can,
I don't see any reason not to discharge you today and get you somewhere more comfortable."


They lower the plastic rail of the bed,
and carefully take your left arm.



"Try and step down for me.
Left foot first."

You do so
ignoring the horrible noises of their arm rubbing against yours.

"Good.
Put weight on it,
then try your right."


You feel a little bit unsteady,
but manage to do so.

"Great.
I'm going to let go now;
see if you can make your way around the bed to me."



They let go.

You cling to the bed for a moment


before letting yourself put more weight on your legs.



They feel

extremely awkward to walk around on.




It's embarrassing.




But,
this situation doesn't feel all that different from other physical therapy you've attended.

That helps some.






There's a dull pain in your right leg,
but keeping most of your weight on your left seems to help,
and you quickly get the rhythm.

"Excellent.

We'll see about getting you discharged, then."
"Could I-
The phone--"
"Almost there.

Have a seat again for me."

They lower the left side rail to make it easier.



You sit.
Trying not to feel restless. 




"Given that this may not be your original body,
and that you may have been around before;
I need you to tell me any important details about your medical history;
physical and especially mental health.

You don't need to go into great detail,
but let me know of any outstanding diagnoses you've received;
anything to be attentive towards.

There's a chance even physical issues may have carried over."




god dammit.





You clear your nonexistent throat.



"Uh...

Well I've got... a lot of plant allergies;
I don't know if that matters."
"It might. 
Anything else?"
"In um-

In my real body,
I had some kind of... nerve issues, in my hands and arms in general.

And I had some stomach problems, but I don't have a stomach anymore,
so..."

"Is that all for physical issues?"
"That I can remember."
"Got it.

What about your mental health?
Any issues there?"



"...uh...


...I mean, I'm

gonna be honest:

This sucks. A lot. This whole thing.

And I feel terrible."
"...To be expected, unfortunately.
I'm sorry to hear that,
though I was more asking about previous issues.

Any diagnoses?"



" . . . 


...PTSD.

Uh

never had it confirmed, but


maybe


neurodivergent
stuff.



And--"


You hesitate.



You haven't even told Salem.

You don't want to tell them.







" . . . 




...AvPD."



" . . . 


Well.

Given that some of these could potentially present issues with socialization,
which is an important part of flexin health,
I'll put in for you to see a counselor, and you can go from there.

Does that work for you?"

You can't help but avoid eye contact.
"...sure."

"Alright."
They retrieve a drawstring bag from the corner of the room;
apparently something they'd set there when they came in.



"The ICSD has provided you with a standard support bag for flexins,
which should have some helpful things to get you started."

They open it up before you,
pulling items out one-by-one and setting them on the bed.



"I've packed in your medicated bandages, and some extra emergency patches;
you should always keep some of those on you, just in case.
There's a set of plain clothes, which may be a little big on you,
but shouldn't be an issue otherwise.
A reusable prepaid debit card with... some amount of money on it.
Not a lot, I would guess, but it should be useful in the meantime.
And a cellphone - with specially-added grip tape for flexins,
which should help.
I imagine it has some amount of minutes preloaded;
if you're going to make a call to your friend, you should probably make it with this,
that way they can actually get back to you.

It's likely the ICSD - where you'll be going after this - 
will have landline phones there, too,
if you need them.
There'll likely be more supplies for you there, too.



Speaking of...

The ICSD is the local branch of the Construct Support Department;
it's right here in Sirocco, not that far from here, and it's supposed to be the biggest one.

They have an entire facility campus which is mostly indoors,
but does have some housing there.
They'll be hosting you for tonight; potentially for a while.

I've been in touch with them; 
they apparently already have a support person rounded up and ready for you,
as well as a room, and a schedule for support programs; the works.

...I know this is likely a lot all at once,
but that really is the best place for you, right now.

Ultimately, it's your choice whether or not to go, though.


Do you want to?"

"...I mean I

might as well.
I don't know what else I would do."
You're just ready to not have to think about any of this.

"Good.
That's settled, then.

I'll let the staff here know to give you some time to get your things together,
change out of the hospital gown,
and make any calls you might need to.

I'll have a car - someone from ICSD - waiting for outside the lobby to pick you up.
They'll get you there; look for the logo.
I'll be putting in referrals for the transformational support, a counselor,
and some physical therapy - for help with getting more use out of your hands.
If you have any other problems, you can let them know at the ICSD.

Is there anything else you need from me right now before you're discharged?"



You shake your head.
Already entering numbers into the cellphone.

"Alright.

Again, the medicated patches may make you a little dizzy.
If you feel you need more help walking, just let someone know."

You nod briefly.
You barely hear them.

"I'll leave you to it, then."




The doctor stands,
making their way towards the door.




They open it



then pause




then quietly move it shut again


turning back around to you.




"Bones."



You look up.

You barely know what's happening, at this point.


"In the interest of transparency,
someone from Gradient - the media company whose party you spawned at -
apparently are taking care of your medical bills.

...I imagine they'll be trying to get in contact with you soon.

Beyond that,
the incident - when you spawned - has apparently been televised since it happened.
People may recognize you.

...While you should be socializing,
I'd recommend sticking to those at the ICSD, and people you know you can trust.
You don't owe anyone from Gradient anything, or anyone else, for that matter.

Be careful.

Good luck."



They exit the room.






















You hit the call button - Salem's number already pulled up.






You walk to the window as it rings, just out of habit.



















You get her voicemail,
trying not to panic.







The tone chimes.



"...uh-
Oh-

Salem, uh-



...Look, I'm not going to bullshit,
and I don't know how long a message can record for, so-

It's Bones.
I know I don't sound like me, but it's me.

A lot's happened - I'm in a hospital in Sirocco; in Idyth.
I'm okay on my end, I'm getting things figured out,
just

you can call me at this number - I swear to god this isn't a prank or-
or-
I don't know, somebody trying to fuck you over or someone who's kidnapped me or-
It's just-

It's


so fucking

complicated-


Just... call me when you get this.


I don't even know if... if you're alive,
or your phone's just broken,
or you're in the hospital,
or-

I don't know... Anything.
I'm worried.


.........



.....love you.
I'm sorry.

Call me back."



You hang up.










You lean on the window





wheezing.






Trying not to cry more.










You steel yourself.





who else can i get in touch with to find her



do i know anybody-


anyone i could-



wait, wait





You dial another number,
relieved at how easy it is with the grip tape.





"Hey, this is Serrino's,
how can I help you?"

ffffuck
not her

just. ask

"Hi, uh-

This is a friend of Salem's,
and I'm sorry to call here but I haven't um...


I havent heard from her in a bit.

I don't know if she's been there or-

...I just have no idea what happened a few days ago,
and like


just



have you-


Have--" "She called out today."


"She-



like you spoke with



her?"

"Yeah."

"It was her voice, and everythi--" "Yes???
Why?"

"-ohthank g o d..."


You double over with relief.





SHES ALIVE!!!!!!!








"...hello...?"
"Right-
Right, sorry, I'm-

It's been a... rough couple of days.
I just hadn't heard from her and--" "Yeah I've got another call coming in, so--"
"Wait! Wait, I-

Sorry, j-just... um


Tell her to call me- to call Bones back, at this number

just

if you see her."

"...Uh-huh. OK. 
Bye."


The line disconnects.













You squeeze the window sill.



Laughing.














You could cry.









She's alive.

She's okay.




The rest doesn't matter.




You can handle it.













It take a few minutes for you to regain your composure.

Maybe it's the meds,
or the sense of relief,
but you feel



lighter.















okay



back to it.




lets do this.








































Within another five minutes,
the clothes - a blue hoodie and matching sweatpants -
are on, and the drawstring bag is on your shoulder.

The hoodie has a big pocket in the front that you're quickly making use of.

You've got your new, oversized phone in it.
It's the perfect size.











You ready yourself at the door,
then head out into the hall.




Immediately,
there's a disorienting sense of 

smallness,
feeling properly just how short you are now.


You ignore it,
quickly finding the elevator and smacking the button.









You step in when it arrives,
dodging out of the way of a couple of nurses who turn to stare.

gotta get used to that



You turn,
and in doing so,
remove your tail from the danger of the being shut in the doors.


gotta get used to THAT, too

stupid thing



its fine. i got it







You barely manage to smack the correct button for the 1st floor lobby,
hitting the 2nd floor button in the process.


The extra wait time is annoying,
but you're managing.








You hurry out,
rounding your way towards the entrance.





You-



"Hey there!
You're looking better, huh?"


You stop.










The man from the spawning video - Wolf... something - 
is here


in the lobby


quickly making his way over to you





there are cameras behind him,
following your every move.




You freeze.





NOPE




And swivel,
hurrying in the opposite direction.




You make it into a hallway 
before running face-first into some particularly tall person's knee.

A loud squeak rings out in the air.

They scoot by,
but you're disoriented.



You snag a railing,
shaking your head to get your bearings back.




"I must've startled you, right?"

You look up.


He's already here.



The cameras are at the bend of the hallway.






"All I'd like is a few minutes of your time.

To check in!
All that.

I'd just like to see how you're doing."






You can't really outrun them.

Not with your tiny legs; one of which barely works right now.

You'd likely just hurt yourself worse,
and then you aren't getting out.



You need to get rid of him.








You take a deep, airless breath.



"...fine.


Two minutes.

Just you.
No cameras."



He turns back,

waving the camera people away.





They look confused,
but are quickly escorted away by staff, regardless,
making a small commotion.





This hallway fairly small.


Public restrooms are behind you,
but it's otherwise an empty, dead end.






"So... no cameras.
Two minutes, you said?"

The grey feline starts a timer on his watch.

"I'd like to hear about all this.
And I'm sure you need someone to talk to, don't you?

Socializing is healthy for flexins, I've heard.
I've been doing a little research on my own.

Two minutes.
Anything you'd like to say."



You don't like the look of his teeth.

He has two, white fangs which are just barely visible
poking out of his muzzle.

He must do his best to hide them with his lip;
you're only seeing them because of how close you are.






You just need him gone.


Something enough to satisfy him,
so he'll fuck off.
Insulting him probably isn't going to work.

And

you feel intimidated, right now.
You don't think you could much, if you wanted to.



Your doctor said there's a car waiting out from for you.

You make it there, and you're home free.



Just get rid of him first.