Are You Even Human

68. Thinking Is What I Do



"You met my folks, right Jules?" Lia asks, smirking when I scowl at the nickname. "They're both total cunts, aren't they?"

"They certainly aren't the kind of people I'd want to hang out with for fun," I agree. "Also, I'm pretty sure they're crime lords?"

"Oh yeah, totally," Lia nods. "Damn, okay, you already know my big killer reveal then. But yeah, they basically brought me into this world to make themselves look more respectable, and that didn't fuckin' work because I'm me. I'm not even sure the two of them like each other, but they definitely hate my guts, and the feeling's pretty mutual. Still, it wasn't like I could just disobey them willy-nilly."

"Because they're crime lords?" Emily asks.

"Because they're my parents," Lia answers. "If I pissed them off too much, they'd trap me in the house and hire a tutor to correct my manners like I'm a fucking French princess, not murder me. But, y'know. I'd probably rather they murder me."

"Naturally," Emily deadpans, and Lia laughs.

"You've gotten feistier while I was away!" she says with a grin. "Or, well. You're not trying to hide as much, I guess. That demure side of you that you always tried to show was adorable, but what really made me fall for you was the nasty guts underneath. I wish I could hide like you did, just wrap it all up and shove it behind a mask. But I was never good at it. I'm an asshole through and through."

"Why are you telling us this?" I ask.

"Well somebody's gotta write my epitaph. Hell if I'm gonna let being dead give people an excuse to forget me," Lia says. "God. We just had to go back to your birthday party, didn't we? You couldn't just let Emily and me go on a bitchass fondue date and chug molten cheese while the rest of you fuckers all died."

"Sorry, Lia," I say, not meaning a word of it. "Apparently I'm important to saving the world or something."

"What good is a world without me in it?" Lia asks. "Betcha didn't think about that, did you, dumbass?"

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure I made the name 'Lia Morgan' quite famous. I doubt people will be forgetting it any time soon," I assure her.

"Bah. It doesn't count if it's all stuff you did," she says. "Though I guess I still appreciate it. Thanks, Jules."

"I didn't do it for you," I snap.

"I'd be mad if you did!" she fires back. "You bone anybody in my body yet?"

"What the hell? No!" I scowl. "What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you? You got perfection, and you let it go to waste? Fucked up of you, Jules. Or… not fucked up enough? Whatever."

"Why is everyone around me always so obsessed with sex?" I groan.

"Uh, 'cuz we're human? Missed the memo on that one, did ya?" Lia says.

"No, it's definitely not that," I say. "The horniest person I know is a goddamn Angel."

"That's incredible," Lia says. "Shit. Can I meet 'em? I get to stick around until all of you leave, right?"

"At which point you immediately die again, yeah," Emily says. "Or stop existing, or whatever. We need to be present in the radius of the Queen's power in order for you to be manifested here."

"Better make the most of our time, then," Lia says. "So you know about the crime stuff. Do you know about the supercrime stuff?"

"The Defenders of Nothing?" I say. "Yeah, we're somewhat acquainted. Your parents basically run a smuggling ring for powered individuals who don't want to work in the military, right?"

"Yup," Lia nods. "My parents are hugely anti-draft. Admittedly because they're fuckin' libertarians, but still. While they use that smuggling ring to help recruit superpowers into their criminal empire, it's also just legit. They give people a pretty hard sell, but they let people walk if they wanna. Not all powers are useful to them, anyway."

"What do they do with their criminal empire?" I ask. "What do they need all those supers for?"

"Fuck if I know," Lia admits. "But they've got some massive heavy hitters. Real serious shit. I wouldn't be surprised if they're gearing up to take on Queens themselves. Beat the military at their own job. But that's just a guess based on what I know of their personalities, not something I've overheard at the dinner table or whatevs."

"Noted," I say. "I guess all this explains why Emily was so confident she could get out of the draft through you."

"Well, that and the powers she apparently has," Lia says. "I mean, I had my suspicions, but yeesh. Precognition. My parents would go absolutely feral over you. You should've told 'em! They'd never complain about you again."

"Telling them was not a good idea, according to said power," Emily says. "Probably because your parents would get obsessed with me. Whatever their plans happen to be, they aren't safe."

"Yeah, that sounds like them," Lia sighs. "Well, I guess you already know most of the big important stuff. I guess just look out for the guy who absorbs people."

"…The what?" I ask.

"The guy who absorbs people. You know, absorbs guy," Lia clarifies helpfully. "Guy absorber guy. The guy who absorbs people."

"What does that mean?" I press.

"He's one of my folks' employees or bodyguards or weird criminal sugar babies or whatever the fuck," Lia says. "Slurps people up like hot taffy. Only saw it once, but it's super gross."

I glance at Emily, who gives me a helpless, confused shrug. So she's never heard of this before? I know I haven't. Which means that if 'absorbs guy' actually exists, we have confirmation this fake Lia has at least some access to real Lia's memories. Which is… terrifying!

Especially since there's no reasonable way to confirm that information without leaving first!

"Ow," Lia winces. "Can you stop freaking out over my impending death? It's giving me a migraine."

Oh fuck.

"Ow! Okay, seriously, Jesus. Let's change the subject," Lia groans. "Is Peter around? I kinda wanna mess with him. That'll be fun, right? You both like getting to show you're smarter than other people."

Hate that. Hate this. But! I guess I need to figure out a way to enjoy it anyway! Thanks, Bliss, you insane bitch of a god!

"Sure," I agree.

"…Yeah, why not?" Emily sighs. "May as well introduce you to the gang. I know you'll be oh-so-reassured in the afterlife to know I'm doing well without you."

"You kidding?" Lia smirks. "I'll be jealous as hell. Maybe come back to haunt you. …Again, I guess."

"Uh, should we not, then?" Emily tries, and Lia just laughs, standing up and holding out a hand to help Emily up as well. Emily accepts it, and Lia immediately pulls her up into a kiss. I awkwardly look away as my sister makes out with my most-used body, though the embrace is thankfully brief.

"Let's go," Lia declares. "Introduce me to your loser friends."

"O-okay," Emily says, looking a little overwhelmed. Which… geez, yeah. On the way over here she said she wasn't even sure if she was gay or not, so the sudden intimacy after that particular revelation probably wasn't super comfortable. …Though on the other hand, Lia doesn't look like she's in pain, so maybe it was pretty comfortable after all.

"Oh yeah, should probably start with this," Lia says. "What's with the tiny hot chick floating around your head, Jules? You said you didn't get any action, so I thought I might have been imagining it."

"…This is Pink," I say. "You can also call her Maria."

"Hi," Pink says. "My power splits me into a bunch of multicolored fairies. I'm one of them."

"Freaky! I like it," Lia nods. "Man, I wish I had gotten powers. Wouldn't that have been sick? But instead I died like a bitch. Once a bitch, always a bitch, I guess."

She says it all so cheerfully, but unlike the disturbing faux-reassurance of the fake Pink, it still feels believably Lia. She really is the type of person who would laugh at her own gruesome death. She was always the type of person who, despite seeming to have everything, never really had anything at all. What's death to a girl with nothing to lose?

It's funny how only now, long after she's gone, do I start considering things like this. Do I realize how wrong I was about her. Or… no. I'm being too harsh on myself there. Lia really was every bit the asshole I thought she was. So much of my life had become centered around dealing with her that I never thought much or cared much about why she acted that way. And besides, even if I had, it's not like I could have played therapist for her. She didn't respect me enough for something like that, and I didn't have any good way to gain her respect.

Still, it reminds me of the conversation I just had with Pink. I keep handling people like problems. Like charges. As if they're things to be solved first and complex individuals second. And… well, it's not like I don't care about people as people. I do. And everything I do, it's to try and do the right thing. To be kind to others. To help them. To give them what they need. In some cases, that works perfectly. I end up helping people a lot. But… it's not an approach that's without flaw.

If I had cared to look past the obstacles she kept putting in my way, could I have helped Lia, too?

"No," Lia says. "You couldn't have. Now seriously, quit overthinking everything! I've got what, maybe six hours until I die again? Let's do something fun."

…Is this Bliss power reading my mind, or did I just accidentally say that into the network?

"I said stop!"

"I'm trying!" I snap. "Thinking is what I do! I don't know how to just stop!"

"I usually smoke weed," Lia answers, which… isn't helpful!

"I feel like imbibing mind-altering substances while inside a domain that automatically grants you everything you think you want is a recipe for disaster," I say.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you're still a killjoy, given the main thing that happened between now and the last time we met is that the Army tried to shove a second stick up your ass," Lia sighs. "Can you stop looking like me?"

I shrug and replace the skin on my face with crystalline scales, adjusting some of the minor details of eye, nose, and mouth shape to appear mostly like a different girl.

"Okay that's freaky, just go back to being me," Lia says.

"No," I respond, because if I don't she'll keep making demands until I do.

"Bah. Never any fun. Make yourself shorter."

Okay. I guess she's going to keep making demands anyway. But it's no real issue for me, so I go ahead and drop a whole foot in height, upping my pace to keep the same speed on shorter legs.

"Grow more arms!"

I oblige, stretching a second pair of shoulders as I form them into existence. It's a design I've experimented with before, of course, given the significant utility it can provide, but coordinating twice as many arms is something I've needed to learn manually. There aren't any brains with prior experience using four human-like hands at once I can steal experience from. Of course, now I don't really carry stuff around, but I still think the idea has some merit. The real question was deciding how to place the extra pair of shoulders and, by extension, the entire extra set of muscle groups and bones needed to attach the arms to the torso, which I've almost completely redesigned every time I've attempted the body.

If the arm pairs are directly above one another, they run into a bit of awkwardness while at rest, as the top pair can't comfortably hang at my sides without bumping into the protruding lower pair. If the shoulders rest one behind the other at the same elevation, however, the front pair significantly interferes with the range of motion for the back pair (though less so for the other way around; arms aren't designed to be very good at moving back that way). The third option is to have the shoulders diagonally oriented with each other, the second pair below and behind the first. This solves most of the range-of-motion issues and lets both pairs of arms hang comfortably, but it has the disadvantage of making the upper torso very bulky and generally more inhuman-shaped than the other two, and I was trying to get the design refined to a point where it wouldn't disturb people any more than necessary.

Ultimately, I settled on the one-over-the-other design. It necessitates a slight elongation of the torso, so it sets off uncanny valley sensors a bit more than the one in front, one behind style, but ultimately the practical downside (inconvenient resting state) is the least impactful and completely negated by my powers, since I can just grow or remove the arms at will.

Somewhat satisfied by the design, I give Lia a thumbs-up with one of the new limbs. She lets out an impressed whistle.

"Wow, nice. Now grow more boobs!"

"No," I say.

"Bah! Okay, uh… what's your favorite kind of tail?"

"It depends," I answer. "Different tails exist for different reasons. For a lot of bodies they help with balance, but those aren't usually necessary. Prehensile tails would be fine, but that's basically just having a tentacle come out of my butt which is, frankly, not the most useful place for a tentacle."

"Agree to disagree," Lia says, which I choose to ignore.

"…So I guess I'd say my favorite type of tail is the type used for locomotion," I conclude. "Swimming is relaxing and fun, and properly-constructed tails are one of the most efficient and satisfying methods of it."

"You more of a side-to-side swimmer or an up-and-down swimmer?" Lia asks.

"Neither is intrinsically superior to the other," I answer. "It's all relative underwater, after all. Marine mammals just evolved to kick up and down because mammal spines flex up and down more naturally than side to side, and fish went the other way pretty much by the same chance."

I feel Pink land on my shoulder, lying down on her front and facing me, elbows digging into my collarbone and chin propped on her hands. Her feet kick idly behind her as she grins at me.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing," she lies. "Go on."

"Uh… okay, well, notably the tails of seals and walruses and whatnot are actually fused-together hindlimbs, not true tails, so that's why they only bend the one way. That's not the case for whales and the like, though. It's the same basic idea but performed two completely different ways."

"Wow you are a nerd," Lia says. "What about snakes? You do any slithering, ya freaky fallen Angel?"

"Not on land," I admit. "I never really tried."

"Well then try it!" Lia says. "Get that long belly in the dirt!"

She pokes at the fleshy ground with her foot.

"…Metaphorical dirt," she clarifies.

"I'm surprised you know what a metaphor is," I admit, trying to work out the best way to do that. I could just shrink down to the size of a normal snake, but that would displace Pink, so I don't want to. Instead, I should try to scale up snake biology in a way that still works at human-level size. Heh. 'Scale' up snake biology.

"What's the holdup?" Lia asks.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"I'm thinking," I answer. "I haven't theorized about a body like this before because it would be wildly suboptimal."

"Have you never considered doing something that isn't optimal just because it'd be cool?" Lia asks.

"Optimal things are cool," I insist.

"Pfft. Okay. Optimize your dumb snake butt, then," Lia snorts.

"Aren't you the one who wanted this?" I protest.

"Hmm? Oh yeah," Lia smirks. "For sure."

"Anyway, I don't know if I can really optimize this," I say. "Snakes are shaped the way they are to invade burrows, and some of them incidentally became good enough at climbing trees that they got pretty big. The body shape is useful for many things, but almost all of them revolve around the snake being much thinner than a human. Even if I get the hybrid brain right and retain full instinct on how to actually move around, I'm not a hundred percent confident it would still work after running headfirst into the square-cube law. So… I guess we'll just have to experiment and refine."

"Who's 'we?'" Emily asks.

"I mean me, but it's polite to act like other people are included when you think out loud," I answer.

"This might be the most Julietta conversation I've ever had, and that's a close race," Pink says.

"Sorry?" I frown.

"Nah, it's a good thing," she answers. "I love you, remember?"

Oh. Hmm. Right. Uh… well okay then.

Not knowing what to say to that, I decide to just attempt my first draft, elongating my spine into a thick tail that should be able to hold my weight when I remove my legs, which I do presently. It's a jarring transition, even as I reorganize my brain's movement centers to incorporate snake neural tissue. Unlike my usual predilection for crystalline scales, I do actually use enlarged reptilian scales for my body because the snake's ventral scales in particular actually perform an important role in their unique locomotion method. Which, when I try it… does actually seem to work.

"Huh," I say, feeling out the odd sensation of my body twisting and pressing against the ground, each curve of my tail acting as a pressure point to push me forward while the majority of my body lifts slightly to reduce friction everywhere I don't want to apply force. The entire setup conga-lines down the length of my body, constantly replaced by new curves and new points of pressure as old ones migrate to the tip of my tail.

"Well hot damn, look at you go," Lia comments as we… as she walks and I slither. Threading her fingers behind her head, that shit-eating grin of hers remains ever pointed in my direction. "You've come a long way from stealing my skin entirely by accident."

"It's interesting," I admit. "I stand by it not being an efficient form of movement and my size reducing most of the advantages it does bestow, but it's honestly working a lot better than I thought it would."

It's kind of… meditative, almost? Maybe it wouldn't be if I ever got used to it, but feeling the force of the slither endlessly migrate down the length of my body, always replaced by more points of contact before it ends, is the sort of background physical sensation that manages to be more relaxing than distracting. I've thought about it before lately, but I really am glad I've managed to grow used to working nerve endings, at least somewhat. This all isn't so bad.

Perhaps even more satisfyingly, Lia takes this moment to stop peppering me with annoying requests, so I actually have time to appreciate it. As is my habit, I continue making micro-refinements as we travel, adjusting muscular density and looking for ways to lighten my torso, since it's impossible to not put nearly the full weight of my upper body directly into the ground due to how I'm keeping it raised up in the air. I can definitely feel why snakes don't normally move around with their heads lifted several feet off the ground; even with the added difficulty, though, it all still works.

It's certainly a less efficient way to move than just walking on two legs, but that's almost entirely due to the fact that having a snake tail long and thick enough to support a human torso makes my body like, five times as heavy as it used to be, and all those added cells and all that added muscle require energy to run. It's also surprisingly quiet, despite my size, so it might be useful for moving stealthily… though if I'm being honest, probably not. It's not as though humans can't learn to walk quietly on normal legs, and any stealth needs I have can usually be solved by simply becoming very small.

I wonder why I'm thinking about this so much. If I had any need for a body with attributes or skills I don't already have a design for, I would have made a design for it. The fact that I haven't experimented with serpentine forms is, itself, evidence that I never had any real need to. Making a body first and trying to find a use for it second is kind of backwards, isn't it?

"Are you overthinking things again?" Lia asks.

"I am doing a normal and healthy amount of thinking, which just happens to be a lot," I answer. "Thinking is good for you. You should try it."

"Not thinking is also good for you sometimes," Lia says.

"Definitely not most of the time," I insist.

"Sure," Lia allows, "but definitely sometimes."

Why is she pressing me on this so much? It's like… oh. Oh, I get it.

"…The power animating you is pushing you to do this, isn't it?" I ask. "You're trying to get me to relax."

"A terrible crime, I know," Lia rolls her eyes. "But yeah, you caught me. What of it? Didn't you agree to 'venerate Bliss' while you were here or whatever? You have to have at least a little fun, or you'll be breaching your contract. I assume that's not something you want to do?"

That's… true. Hrm.

"You could have just told me," I protest.

"No I can't!" Lia snaps. "If you knew I was trying to help you enjoy something, you'd fight me over it the whole damn time! God, this is why I always hated you. You're such a stick in the mud you've made it into an art form. A boring, terrible art form that my mom would buy for a million bucks to prove how cultured she is."

"Oh my god, enough!" I snap. "Enough! It's one thing if my council does it. It's one thing if my girlfriend does it! They have the right. But I will not just sit here and take another round of 'bash Julietta time' from you, of all people! You don't know what my life has been like, you don't know what I've had to do, and you don't give a fuck, so you don't get to insult it. You don't get to criticize me like you have any right to tell me what is and isn't good for me."

I slap my tail against the ground for emphasis, pointing a finger in her face to force her to pay attention.

"I have a family to protect, I have people to help, and I have an entire world to try and save. I do not have time for fun, and it is not another character flaw for me to be able to recognize that! If everyone just indulged in hedonism all the time, we wouldn't have enough of a society for people to even consider doing that in the first place! Some of us have to learn to put aside what we feel like doing and learn to take care of all the shit no one likes. I don't need some spoiled rich asshole who acts like her daddy and mommy issues let her understand what it's like to have a hard life try to tell me I'm the one with a problem here. Shut the fuck up."

Aaaaaagh god damnit! I regret every word as soon as it leaves my mouth, but I just couldn't manage to stop myself until the end. It's just been one thing after the other, though! I know I'm not a perfect person, but all things considered, I feel like I've done pretty damn good for a person in my position, haven't I? I've helped a lot of people. I've saved a lot of people! I have my flaws, but I was pretty tired of people constantly ribbing me about them before a girl I hate literally came back from the dead to pressure me on it even more.

"Sorry," Pink says, breaking the silence, which… no! Agh! This is exactly what I didn't want! "I didn't mean to—"

"Stop," I cut her off, which is really rude and probably counter to the point I'm trying to make but hey, let's just make more conversational mistakes, I'm sure that'll solve the problem. "It's fine. I specifically said it was fine. As my partner, you are in a privileged position in regards to being able to speak your mind about me, to me, at any time. If any member of a relationship is scared to bring up criticism of their partner, it's basically the biggest flag of an unhealthy dynamic there is. If you do upset me, it's my job to respond maturely."

I thrust my finger at Lia again.

"But not her," I say. "She can go fuck herself."

"Wouldn't be the worst way to spend my last few hours alive," Lia comments.

"Is that really all you have to say?" I growl.

"You being mad at me is making it actively hard for me to, like, exist," Lia answers. "I've gotta figure out how to lighten the mood somehow, and that's never been my strong suit."

I… damn it. Damn it! Right. I need to calm down. There's always someone whose problems are bigger than mine. It's just annoying that this time the person happens to be Lia. I take a deep breath to center myself before speaking again.

"Alright, fine," I manage. "I'll follow your lead, and we can do something fun."

"Great! Awesome," Lia says, visibly relaxing. I'm annoyed at myself for not noticing she was that tense. "For now, you just go back to slithering or whatever. That seemed to be doing wonders for you. And then, uh, I dunno, we'll talk to your other friends."

"Sure," I agree curtly, taking another breath and trying to get back into that meditative mindset I was in before, where just the simple act of moving was at least mildly enjoyable. After my big blowup, though, it doesn't feel all that feasible. My head is still churning with frustrations that have no real outlet, forcing me to try and wrangle them to the ground entirely in the isolation of my own head.

"…Wanna try just going wild with it?" Pink suddenly asks.

"Huh?" I blink, turning my head to glance at her.

"Well, you seemed to be having fun doing things with your powers," Pink says. "So… let's keep doing things with your powers! Try out other stuff that wasn't really 'optimal' but caught your interest. Or, y'know, if there's potentially optimal stuff you simply haven't had time to investigate, now's the best time for that!"

That's… basically what Lia was trying to manipulate me into doing, but I guess if Pink thinks it's a good idea I can give it another shot. I don't really know what to turn into, though. I've gotten pretty damn good with my powers, and unlike back when I was still in military training I don't usually need more than a few quick attempts to get a working version of whatever idea I happen to come up with. Can those ideas be refined and improved? Of course, almost always. But they work, and that's usually more than enough for me given how glutted my flesh reserves have gotten. I can afford to be less than perfect with the sheer, raw biomass I have backing me up.

But… that was just a secondary suggestion. Pink's initial request was to 'go wild with it,' and… I'm not really good at that sort of thing? I don't even know what it means most of the time. But I think it basically means 'do whatever you feel like,' and right now I feel like screaming and ranting about the general unfairness of the world, which would obviously be stupid, unproductive, and unpleasant for everyone involved. It would be nice if I had another way to externalize those emotions and get the dumb things out of my head already.

…Hmm.

"Go wild with it, huh?" I muse, and there must be something in my tone of voice because Emily takes a visible step back. Heh. She always knew me best.

"Sure, if you want to!" Pink encourages.

"Well, if you think it's a good idea… sure," I agree, at which point my body slumps over, completely brain dead.

I normally quite prefer to have a brain. It can be pretty hard to think without one, after all. But fuck it, right? When in Rome. And there is a body type that's entirely optimal to use without any brain whatsoever, except for a rudimentary sensory cortex that I can link up with my dozens of eyes.

As my body falls, it expands, tendrils of flesh lashing out in every direction as any semblance of coherent biology gets pushed aside in favor of raw power over organic material. The act of shaping skin and bone replaces any need for muscles to move, the act of manually powering and managing my own cells overcomes any utility served by blood. My frustration and my body pour in every direction, thrashing against the ground as the explosion of flesh silently voices my urge to scream.

It is, I suppose I should admit, rather therapeutic.

Vaguely aware that Pink is still latched onto what used to be my shoulder, now hanging on rather desperately instead of lounging like she was before, I shoot forward, flowing like a flooded river across the back of the Bliss Queen, barely resisting my urge to scoop up her flesh along with my own as I rapidly unform the parts of my body that would otherwise be left behind, instead growing new flesh ahead of me in its place.

It's not my fastest way to travel. It's not my most efficient way to travel. But it is my most freeing way to travel, unbound by form, untethered to propriety. I don't have to walk or run or swim or fly. I can simply move. And this, somehow, feels more natural to me than anything else. There's no futzing about with complicated systems and intricate patterns of motion and balance. There is only will, and direction, devoid of any barriers between the two.

Not even the flesh I use to fill the gaps particularly matters. I can extend forward a tide of pallid, bloodless skin. I can grow a writhing snake-pit of fleshless bones, spines extending vertebrae by vertebrae as they twist and tangle over one another. I can create fully-functional limbs, grasping hands and thrashing legs, used not for their function but merely for their length as they are overtaken and re-consumed by my traveling domain. It doesn't matter. I am free.

I love my powers, I realize. It's been a long journey to get here. I've resented them for so many things, from what they've taken from me to what they've forced upon me. But looking back now, I can't imagine wishing Possibility had given me anything else. I love collecting new kinds of biology to add to my repertoire. I love designing complex forms to improve myself at various tasks. I love getting to choose how I present myself to people, even if that ultimately only ever turns out strange and alienating to most. And most of all, I love finally being powerful enough to do the things I believe to be right instead of having to sit on the sidelines and desperately hope that other people would do them for me.

Thank you, Possibility. My benefactor. My god. My biggest fan. Even if you're just here in this world to play with its inhabitants, I'll save it so you can continue as long as you like. …And so the world doesn't die of course, but the sentiment is still there.

I'm not quite sure if I expected a response or not, but I get one. Nothing verbal, of course, but a feeling like I'm being hugged by my own skin, the very air around me pressing in for a loving embrace. It passes almost as quickly as it comes, but I know with every fiber of my being that it was my god's appreciative response. Man. No wonder the aliens are such zealots. God hugs are awesome.

My flesh-river of a body speeds past Christine's hut (no need to bother her) and finally makes it to Peter's porch, sweeping around him and eliciting a delightfully shrill yelp of terror from him before I gather myself up and assemble a humanoid body to speak with him. I realize belatedly that somewhere along the way I've enveloped most of Pink inside my body to prevent her from getting swept away, so I take the opportunity to disgorge her as well. She stumbles a bit in the air as her wings start up, looking rather flushed and disoriented. I'll have to apologize to her later.

"Julietta!?" Peter nearly shrieks. "What the hell?"

"Hey, just wanted to let you know that the Queen's power temporarily reanimated Lia and she's coming over to chat with you," I tell him.

"It can do that?" he blinks.

"Yeah," I confirm.

"So what, could it like… bring my parents back to life or something?" he asks.

The question shocks me enough that I open my mouth to say 'I didn't know you cared,' but thankfully I manage to stop myself before making the stupidest fucking social mistake of my entire life. Instead, I consider the question.

"…It can make people, but it can only make them so accurate," I say. "I think it bases the constructed people it makes off of the thoughts and impressions of preexisting people in its domain, so Lia is likely a special case due to my power having an extremely accurate imprint of her biology and brain. If you tried to get it to summon your family, it would probably just be making something that's your impression of what your family would be like if they were here. Also, they'd have to be making you happy in some way for the power to be able to make them at all."

"What the actual fuck?" Peter asks.

"Yep," I agree. "Anyway, just wanted to let you know. Bye."

I melt back into a comfortable brainless puddle. Pink almost immediately descends to land on me, so I guess I didn't do anything too bad. That's a relief. Rapidly flowing off of Peter's porch, I head toward the shore where we left Anastasia and the rest of the Marias. This time, rather than spook them all, I make sure to form back up into a recognizable body before I get too close. Though the sight when I get there is… interesting.

Demon Maria is enveloped in a chaotic mess of various things, some parts of her body suspended in levitating fluid, other parts wrapped up by soft vines, and yet others batting and scratching at small, quick-moving bugs like a cat with a toy. The fairy Marias are all relaxing nearby on tiny beach towels with tiny umbrellas stuck into the fleshy ground, chatting with an air of relief between them as their main job is finally distracted enough by something else to give them time to relax.

Anastasia is still in the water, playing with dolphins. They probably aren't real, but she's having a great time, so whatever.

"Hey," I greet the beachgoing Marias.

"Julietta!" Blue smiles at me. "Hey! Er, wait. Are you the real Julietta? You have to tell us if you're not real."

"I'm real this time," I assure them. "And this, hopefully, is the real Pink?"

"Th-that's me!" Pink confirms. "Whoo! That was quite the roller coaster."

"We haven't been on a roller coaster before," Yellow points out.

"Well, I definitely feel like I have now!" Pink says. "Anyway, thanks for pushing me to go find her, girls. The talk went pretty well."

"Great!" Blue says.

"Heck yeah," Yellow agrees. "That's one more stress out of our life. I've gotta say, this creepy flesh island isn't so bad."

"I've been expecting it to disgorge monsters or try to eat us pretty much this whole time, but nope. Just cute outfits and beach towels," Blue agrees. "Well, and the creepy fake you, but it disappeared after we figured out it was fake."

"I feel like we exorcised some kind of demon…" Yellow says.

"Or a fae!" Blue says. "Though I guess we're the fae in this situation. Do the fae exorcise demons?"

"The two aren't often sharing the same folklore space," I answer. "But we live in very strange times."

"Ain't that the truth," Yellow agrees. "How much longer are we staying here, by the way?"

"Not sure," I admit. "You'll have to ask Blossom when she gets back."

"I AM BLOSSOM!" Blossom declares loudly, having suddenly teleported in directly behind me. I immediately lash out and end up stabbing her through the chest with a freshly-grown blade. The two of us stare awkwardly at each other for a bit. Blossom glances down at her wound. I do my best not to stare at it, because she is still entirely naked.

"Ow," Blossom says.

"Sorry," I respond.

"It okay," Blossom shrugs, and suddenly she's a foot further back, with no wound on her at all. "Diplomacy done! Best diplomacy ever. Everyone do good job so we good to leave. You almost screw up everything, though!"

She is, of course, pointing at me. I vomit up her clothes and throw them at her face.

"Well, I didn't," I say. "So get dressed, and let's meet up with the others, okay?"

"Ow," Blossom says again as the tupperware full of clothes hits her in the face, which she just lets fall to the floor, making no effort to get dressed. "Just stay out of network until we leave. You too grumpy for Bliss."

"That was already the plan," I remind her. "By the way, the Queen's power revived the person whose body I usually use. Her name is Lia."

"Wait, like actually revived or just creepy fake revived?" Blue asks.

"I don't know," I answer. "Maybe both. Anyway, she's a huge bitch, you'll hate her. Blossom, you'll love her."

"Excitement!" Blossom declares, now suddenly fully dressed.

Pretty soon, we'll finally be getting off this terrible island. Significantly before schedule, even, so I suppose whatever Blossom did is something the worshippers of Bliss were very, very happy about. Which I'm quite grateful for, honestly, because we do happen to be in somewhat of a hurry. Every moment we waste here is another moment Maria needs to suffer through all-consuming madness, and even without that fact I probably wouldn't be inclined to linger for long.

I stretch my body in a few impossible ways, twisting and reshaping into something more comfortable, then doing it again. It feels great, the exaggerated changes like stretching a sore muscle. The frustration and anger I was feeling before is already mostly gone. So I guess if I was pressed to admit it, while everything I just thought is true, I suppose that… in the end?

It really wasn't that bad.

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