Posts Tagged humans

[WIP] Classifieds.

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NSFW (M/solo) below cut…»

[WIP] Kohath.

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The semi-secret breakfast was chiefly fried potatoes in all the usual configurations… tater tots, country potatoes, potato pancakes, hash browns, and so forth—with smaller amounts of eggs and miscellaneous breakfast fixin’s.

In my condition, though, which was better but still not optimal, I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat much, so I just took a small plate and sat next to a lunar and human talking—about the Vegan wars.

I recognized political argument, and resolved not to jump in.

[WIP] Classifieds.

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I watched him make breakfast—he didn’t really need much in the way of help—and was absolutely at a loss for what to say.  Jay didn’t notice he’d nearly doubled in size.

As he reached up to grab the flour, exposing the entire lower half of his belly, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, an attempt to orient myself: “Jay, do you have any clothes that fit?”

He immediately turned bright red and pulled his shirt down.  “Zed!” he said. “I didn’t know I… just any old thing around the house… didn’t mean to bother you…”

I didn’t try to calm him down—that never worked.  And I could tell he was more embarrassed than hurt.  Still, he left the room, returning after a few moments in a much looser T-shirt, and went back to putting pancakes together.

I tried not to ask any more questions.  Clearly this was normal for him; I’d only make myself look stupid or crazy by asking questions.  So I excused myself and went to looking through the apartment.

And nothing had really changed.  Well—all right, he was definitely fatter in the couple of pictures he had of himself in his room—maybe a few extra snack wrappers by his bed?—but I guess having a 250-lb roommate doesn’t make things much different from having a 150-lb roommate.

That, or I didn’t notice any other changes.

That was kind of worrying.  He didn’t notice the change—maybe I only noticed the change I saw.

And the queasy feeling in my stomach that followed on that thought was immediately replaced by quite the reverse kind of thrill as a new idea came into my head that I immediately kicked myself for.

Because I wondered if I could do it again.

[partim] The day of the singularity.

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“But my talent’s switching minds, not,” Ralph said, “Not reviving the dead…”

He shuddered a bit at the thought.  John shook his head.  “You go to them before they die.  And you’ll swap out their minds with a blank one.”

“A blank one?”

“Well, not that you’ll be carrying blank minds around… that would be all kinds of ethical trouble… but you’ve said it’s easier to do visualizing it that way instead of trying to trade something for nothing.”

“How long have you known me?”

“About sixty years.”

“You don’t look that old,” Ralph said.  But really, once you knew, you kind of could—the gentle wrinkles around the eyes were, though not pronounced enough to convey a sense of age, were still a little too deep for a young man—once you knew, you couldn’t see the hints of gray around his temples as the signs of a stressful work life any longer—once you knew, he was clearly an old man, but not frail like I’d expect in a man who just admitted to being maybe 75—even once you knew, you could still not guess him any more than a very healthy fifty.

[partim] The day of the singularity.

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“The doors—” the man started, confused for a moment. The doors were indeed of the push-to-open kind.

“I guess I should start here, then,” he said. “This is the Halkiadakis Institute, of course, I’m John, in this place we… well, everyone coming from the past comes through here. So it has to be kept traditional, so people aren’t disoriented.” He started walking again. “So different areas for different arrivals—this is the Modern area, and I work in the Medieval and sometimes the Primitive—”

“Wouldn’t time travelers be ready for new and strange futures?” Ralph said.

“Oh, we’re not here for time travelers,” John said. “I mean, I said everyone coming from the past, I mean everyone. That’s our mission here, our number one obligation.”

“What is?”

“To salvage everyone from the past. To have made death meaningless. To give everyone, every person who ever lived, another life free of death and hardship.”

“But—everyone does die—or did, back then, anyway—isn’t the past, the timeline, supposed to be immutable?”

“It is—and that’s where you come in, Ralph. Your talent makes this whole operation possible.”

[partim] The day of the singularity.

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The distant future, when I found myself looking at it, didn’t look all that unusual, which worried me a bit. It was an empty room we found ourselves in—and reminded me something of a hospital—dingy white walls, scuffed linoleum tile, and a long mirror along one wall.

Okay, obviously an interrogation room, then? But there was no table or anything—there ought to have been a table, with a bright light over it, and the good cop would be standing in the corner, conflicted, while the bad cop would lean over the table, snarling, yelling—


A short, dark-haired human in a lab coat greeted Ralph warmly, starting with a handshake and ending with a full-on embrace.

“I hear it’s supposed to be your first day today,” he said. “Ah hey, sir,” he said, noticing me.

“It’s such an honor to be the one to orient you,” he said, returning his attention to Ralph and apparently trying to ignore me. “Come on, come on,” he said, leading him out the door.

I followed along. The hallway would not have looked out of place in a 20th-century office building. Maybe the future hadn’t changed as much as they’d thought it would?

Of course Ralph asked the question before I could bring myself to. “Hey,” he said, “Hey, what’s up with this future? The doors don’t even dilate!”

[partim] Shine.

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A couple of younger men came out carrying trays crowded with plates of food and arranged them all on Fofaa’s table.

A few moments later, the man who’d first brought me in came back with a plate of crab rangoons.

I brightened up a bit and went to work myself.

[scrap] Classifieds.

Start of an idea I’ve had floating around for a while.

Jay stomped into my room, waving the morning paper, and started yelling at me.

“Zed, why didn’t you proofread the ad before you sent it in?” He threw it down on my desk and pointed to it.

Now, I’d helped him out the other day—he’s a bit on the shy side and doesn’t like to go out, but I thought he needed to meet someone, so we put together a personal ad for him. We’d managed to come up with:

GWM, 25, 150#, loves to cook,…

It went on a bit like that, but it really wasn’t very interesting. You see why he’s single.

Anyway, the ad his finger was on was clearly the same ad I’d submitted, only instead giving his weight as 250#.

“Who’d answer an ad like that? I’d be a blimp!”

I was a little pudgier than Jay – kind of close to that number myself – but I didn’t answer that. (He likes to cook – I like to eat.)

“I’m sure someone wouldn’t mind,” I said. “And if you do get a call, you can get them straightened out right away. We’ll send in a correction after lunch—I’ll go by the paper myself.”

Just then the phone rang. Jay picked it up.

“Hello? … Yeah, I posted the ad … No, I’m not a ‘big boy’” – he started getting agitated again – “I weigh 150! … Yeah, I know you can’t print lies in the paper … No, I don’t want to get bigger, perv … Listen, just …” He slammed the receiver down.

I looked at him a bit surprised, which he misinterpreted. “Why did I do that?” he said. “I shouldn’t be picky… with anyone who’d be interested in me despite my weight…”

From the moment he’d hung up, his body had changed. The loose clothes he’d been wearing were filled out to a much more generous form. He didn’t seem to notice the change at all. “Dude, why am I even hanging out in here? I’ve got breakfast to make. Come down and help, would you?”

[partim] Scott the Alchemist 4.

NSFW (M/M, hyper) below cut… »

[partim] Shine.

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I shrugged and started eating—I’d been worse than a freak show before. The food was actually pretty good, especially as hungry as I was.

As I ate, my light grew brighter and again I worried about bothering the other patrons, but aside from a couple of squinting faces among those caught in the spotlight, there didn’t seem to be any reaction at all… except from the owner, who was absolutely thrilled.

“You’re doing a good job,” the girl said.

I swallowed my last mouthful of lo mein. “Whatever you say.”

“You think you could eat more?”

I put a paw on my gut. It was pretty warm, but it could definitely take a bit more.

Okay, a lot more.

I nodded.

“You think you could compete for it?”


“Fofaa!” she yelled, to somewhere in the back of the room.