Becoming Monsters Im Blue 06

Becoming monsters is the creation of AiLovesToGrow, setting used with permission

This idea comes from Amethyst Dragonfly.

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Chapter 6: Growing Pains

"I think you look good, Abbey."

"Justin, I'm a giant mess."

"That sentence was one word too long. You might have to hunch over with my dorm's ceilings, but you look good." It was eight in the morning on that fine Thursday. Justin was sharing breakfast with his girlfriend in his dorm room. He was standing. She was sitting cross-legged. This meant that their heads were almost exactly level with each other after her attempts to shrink back down failed. For some reason neither could figure out, both of them kept waking up to empty Mana pools. Justin suspected that it had something to do with why all of his fixtures were working so much better, but couldn't prove it.

"Doesn't matter how good I look, the bank opens back up at noon and I need to be ready to take my spot. Kind of hard to do at my current dimensions. My hand wouldn't fit in the till."

"Abbey, you work at one of the biggest banks in Seattle. You can't tell me that if you call your boss right now and explain that you have a Status issue that is making you ten feet tall, he wouldn't be able to find a good way for you to get to it. Heck, your business suit still fits... somehow."

"Huh, you're right. Guess I wasn't thinking about that, since I can't dial mine right now. Mind calling my boss and handing me the phone? The pin is 2583, he's Mr. Phillips."

And not a derogatory nickname? Yep, the guy will probably be good for it. I wish I had EVER had one that didn't earn the title of The Desk Jockey or Literal Forum Troll.

It helped that the oddities of the Status meant that Abbey's voice was still Abbey. It wasn't a bass rumble like physics might have otherwise demanded from her enlarged vocal cords. The cell phone looked comically tiny in her hands. She also needed Todd's help again, as her boss requested photographic proof of what she was telling him. Even in the Changed world, seeing is believing, and there was a lot to see.

Give the guy some credit, he adapted quick. Todd heard him ask if she'd still be there by ten for her shift. She confirmed, and he heard the beep of the other line hanging up. Todd was relieved it worked out right. "You know, in other circumstances I might be jealous of another guy asking if you'll be at his place by ten," he wisecracked with a grin.

Abbey laughed right with him, thankful that she knew he wasn't the type to be that jealous. "Still leaves me with less than two hours to get there, get my daily assignment, and get clocked in. I don't exactly fit on the bus right now."

"Says who? The hard part is going to be getting you out of this building without staining the suit, so come on."

Getting out turned out to be slightly less of a problem than anticipated. Simply put, if you are about six feet tall, then you instinctively get very far out of the way of someone coming your way when that person is a ten foot wall of blue. Also thankfully, although the fire doors had been built before the Change they had been made with accessibility in mind. Double doors meant more space, even if this isn't QUITE what the builders thought it would be needed for.

Justin led her in a different direction from the usual bus stop, to another one a couple of blocks away. It was mostly identical, but only mostly. The bars were reinforced steel instead of aluminum, the place obviously more roughly handled. Instead of a bench, there were three chairs of wildly different sizes. Her eyes wandered around, taking in the million tiny details. "Never been to this bus stop, what exactly is it?"

"This route goes down to the Guild Hall, so the buses that travel it have to be able to take all kinds. Used to ride it back in Freshman year to people watch, but there's another stop next to the bank since so many of them use it."

Whatever else might be going into it, Abbey couldn't argue with the plan. Especially when the bus rumbled up, the bored-looking driver opening the huge door and acting like Big Blue was nothing out of the ordinary. The aisle and seats, at least for the first couple of rows, were more than sufficient to fit her current proportions... and as a result made Todd look like a small child. She found it adorable, really.

The trip itself, though. That was a different story. Whenever something is being made, trade offs have to be accepted. Speed, efficiency, cost, and a million other details. In order for this bus to handle the myriad possible forms and powers riding it, the sacrifice was comfort. Every bump in the road traveled straight up to the passengers' spines (or equivalents, given that one was a scythe-armed insectoid wearing a badge that depicted a sunrise over the city). The seats lacked much in the way of cushion, the walls scarred from idle claws or angry flames.

In all, it was with a sense of relief that the two got out at the Bank. A short, older man in a business suit was out front when they did, and Justin could see his eyebrow climb almost up into his hairline the moment Abbey came into sight. To his credit, he just pulled out a notebook and started writing something. Justin waved goodbye and got walking, he wouldn't be sticking around today.

From Abbey's vantage, she could see that a lot of what was on the pad were various positions... that were being crossed out. The man looked up at her. Way up, all things considered. "I'm sure you can appreciate the difficulties this has put me under."

"Yes, sir. If it's any consolation, it wasn't my idea."

Mr. Phillips gave an enormous sigh. "I know, I know. Wouldn't have hired you if I thought you were the type to pull that, but after yesterday there were a million things to do to begin with. You're my best Coinage Desk clerk by a mile, so I had things we needed you for. Think this... episode... will be done by tomorrow?"

"I don't want to make any promises, sir. It might be done, but it could be much longer. Never been a thing before for me."

"Well, then we take this day by day. Stay here, I have some paperwork for you to take to the Guild Hall. Police can do their thing, but I need the Marshal to know what happened. One of his folks probably did this, or helped. Not to put too fine a point on it, but right now you're a lot less likely to be interfered with than my other folks. If you have any problems with this plan, you have until I get back out here to think of them." He turned and went back inside.

Normally, Abbey might have objected. The Guild Hall was full of people who were much more likely than most to know her for what she was and try to take advantage of it. She was a Level 2 Mariner, not exactly a combatant class even if she had ever gotten back on a boat after the week of sadistic seasickness she suffered exploring it. Blue was her color, not green. Thing is, the same thing that was probably causing her mana problem was giving her an edge this time. She didn't have to worry about a random Delver stealing her Coin. Justin had it, and it would not let another take it until he made his third Wish.

And, well, her present stature meant that most would assume she was strong and leave her alone. Mr. Phillips was right about that. By the time the man got back outside and gave her the courier bag (one that was probably larger than the contents justified, but which looked like a handbag on her), she was mentally prepared to take a trip. For the second time that day, and ever, she got onto the Guild Hall bus. This time, the trip would take significantly longer.

As she was getting onto the bus, Abbey might have been surprised at what Justin was doing. Though he definitely had class, today was a relatively simple one. He'd be presenting bits of the portfolio she had been helping him create, rather than trying to take in any information. Translation? Though he was sitting in a classroom, he had earbuds in and a book open on his desk, desperately digging for any information he could.

The words of the Leprechaun were ringing in the back of his head.

"That's good tae hear, 'tis a difficult thing fer a man tae admit. Now, ye need tae know two things..."

The first was obvious, at least to Justin. Mostly because Abbey had been very open with him and him alone about it. How powerful her wishes could get, and what they tended towards. Abbey was a Marid, not a Glasya. Her Wishes would not be automatically cursed or actively try to ruin his life. They also had a much easier time leaning into her unique magics of hearth and home, which meant that any wishes to that effect would hurt her much less. More bang for the buck, as it were. The trick would be on the second half.

He had a good gauge on the upper limits of what she could safely accomplish, so it was time to research what people thought they wanted if they could just change one thing. Or... that was the thought, anyway. The radio was replete with music about people wanting a change. Peace on earth, an easy life, and others. Some noble. Some not so much.

What would I even DO with that many women in my life? Sure, sounds like fun for an evening. Maybe even a week. Not as a permanent alteration to the world!

Others wanted things that were quite clearly not remotely in the realm of possibility, even for one of Abbey's Wishes. Turning back the hands of time to relive a nostalgic life was common, as were any number of things that would involve forcibly brainwashing hundreds or thousands of people. World peace sounds nice, but the path from A to B for

that

one probably had to detour through Q, which made them too risky. Maybe some more personal ones, like...

"Justin Majors, if you ignore me

one more time...

"

"Sorry, ma'am, got thinking too hard. Um. My portfolio addition for today is a digital canvas piece titled 'A Study In Blue', which you can blame my Literature class for getting stuck in my head."

"This is an unusual palette for skin tones."

"I'd love to say it's stylistic, but in this case the model is my girlfriend. The base color was matched against a photo we took of her actual skin."

"So, to confirm, it is not a subversive tribute to a cartoon?"

"Afraid not. Although she is by far my favorite subject and inspiration, I've begun to realize that the ideals of beauty taught in Art History really no longer apply as strongly as before. Humanity has taken on a dazzling variety of shapes and colors that the likes of Michaelangelo or Frida Kahlo could not have possibly pictured."

A smart alec from the back: "Unless you're talking about the ninja turtle, he'd probably like what you did!" The class broke down into giggles that took the instructor several minutes to get past. Not the least of the reasons was because she, too, was having a difficult time retaining composure... and Justin was more than happy to let the laughter go. He'd normally be annoyed, but this one time? He just wanted his turn to be over without burning more brain power on it.

"Alright, alright. You seem to have this one in hand, then. Solid linework and rendering, as well, though the composition..." Her notes were short and pointed, and made Justin very glad he'd saved several of the objects in question on their own layers. It might have made the file look messy when uncompiled, but it meant that a lot of the more obnoxious fixes would take minutes or seconds instead of hours.

It was another one of those good habits he had never actually built up, one which muscle memory had performed before he quite caught up with it intentionally. Whatever the Wish was doing, its influence kept showing up in the most random places. That actually scared Justin a bit as he thought about it. He asked for a good girlfriend, and the ripple effects kept spreading. Do girlfriends fall under the category of "hearth and home"? Possibly? If so, he was very, very lucky. The continual power of it all, along with all that Abbey had suffered, meant that if it hadn't it might have killed her.

Either way, as he listened to the desires of a singer who wanted to wish on an airplane, he had more research to do along with a half hour left in class where he knew he would not be called on.

Meanwhile, a bus pulled up to the Guild Hall of Seattle, situated south of the city proper. A large blue woman in a nice business suit stepped off, and looked around. Abbey was not a Delver. She had never had cause to come down here before, but almost everyone in Seattle knew the place by reputation. Today would be no different than any other. She just had to find the boss.

She could see a dueling circle, where a couple of swordsmen tested each other for strength and prowess as others watched and cheered. She could see people selling food, potions, weapons, and tools. At an administrative building, a Workshop Aelf pointed her in the right direction, towards a larger permanent structure. Along the way, she brushed shoulders with a red-orange Yeti and carefully avoided stepping on an oddly familiar-looking purple Imp. Abbey, of course, found that she did not fit inside the building she had been directed to. On the flip side, the person who answered the door when she knocked was perfectly helpful and understanding.

It helped that Mr. Phillips had called ahead to warn them that she was coming.

A man walked out shortly afterwards. Tanned, with brown hair and a long beard, wearing dark pants and a long-sleeved white shirt. On his head was a

yarmulke

, fringes at the corners of his shirt, and in the air around him the smell of ozone clung. The face was a familiar one, he came to the bank semi-regularly, but now in this context Abbey realized exactly who she had been dealing with.

That was the Guild Leader Marshal. The single strongest person at camp, which itself was one of the strongest gatherings of Delvers on the face of the Earth. Jordan Shapiro rather infamously could, and had, called elemental lighting in such magnitude that the local Klan had fled the area, all the way east of the Cascades, rather than risk facing him.

Well, except for one particular moron who tried to unseat him. That had ended poorly for said challenger. The video of that unbelievably brief duel was still one of the most popular meme formats two years later.

Walking next to him was a tall Raven Beastfolk in flowing robes the color of night, a bright gold band piercing one of his wingtips. The man looked up at her and immediately said something that sounded like a greeting in a rather harsh voice.

"I'm sorry, sir. I do not speak Arabic."

The Raven's head quirked to the side. "A Marid who doesn't know the language? Curious. Still, I see your boss knew who to send. Tell me, how are you doing with your Bound Object?"

The question seemed oddly personal to her, but maybe it was just the habit of the place. "I'm presently bound, sir, but to a good person this time around. It is rather comforting to be this safe."

"I see. Marshal, it seems that I am presently in the way. My people will continue to gather the materials for the working we discussed."

Jordan nodded. "Go ahead and talk to Guild Leader Smith of

Borealis

, he may be able to assist." The Raven flew off, heading off to whatever inscrutable goal he was pursuing. "Please excuse Guild Leader Pierce. Much has been on his mind recently, and like me he believes strongly that he needs to know as much as possible to act correctly. You must be Abigail?"

"I prefer Abbey, sir. Mr. Phillips sent me to deliver this to you?" She offered him the messenger bag.

"And this set of documents details the misdeeds of one of my own to the point that I can call my Conclave to discuss it?"

"I don't know exactly what is in them. Our bank was attacked by skeletal minions yesterday. Only the presence and quick responses of other Delvers saved our lives. I was there, and hit the alarm myself."

"Of course. You are a courier, not one of their executives. Tell me, are you by chance a licensed Delver?"

Abbey shook her head. "I'm afraid not. My Class lends itself to neither combat nor my own inclinations. It is also not useful at Camp. Never had a reason to pay to keep up my registration, so I didn't."

"A pity. I could have used someone who is both cool under pressure and holding a Business Administration degree."

"How did you..."

"Abbey, please. Your boss told me exactly who was coming with more than an hour of warning, when I have excellent assistance and a large dose of institutional paranoia. We knew who and what you were before you ever stepped foot in my Camp."

"Then why would you even ask if I was a Delver? That would be the first thing that popped up for you."

The man smiled a bit sardonically. "Because records searches don't reveal the answers 'not yet' and 'I wish I was' to searchers. Believe it or not, we have a few here who aren't licensed. They are mostly administrators, medics, and couriers. No less valuable for it."

Abbey frowned. That was certainly a thought, and it would be a significantly more exciting kind of life than she had been living. "You seem to be desperate for people if you are making that pitch."

"And you just proved me right. I wouldn't use the word 'desperate,' but then again I'd be describing myself with it. The bias is obvious. What I do have is a large number of people who have a very specific mental image of what this life is like, and a small number of people who can help make this life look like that image. What we do here benefits the world in a very real way, the materials and developments coming from this Hall have at the very least revolutionized the Hospital and several construction projects. Not bad for four years in service, but it means I need people who come with open eyes."

"I will certainly think about it, sir. And before you think that's just a deflection, I do intend to. The bank job was never supposed to be permanent. I'm just a bit tied down for a little bit."

"I understand." He seemed genuinely disappointed. "Is there anything else you have for me?"

"No, sir."

"Alright then. Feel free to look around camp if you'd like. Just don't use your Abilities on others without express permission, Delvers tend to be touchy about that. Most of the shops accept both cash and Coinage. Maybe bring a souvenir back to your boyfriend."

"How did you..."

"You told one of my Guild Leaders someone had your Soul Object and you were happy about it. I don't see a ring, so that narrows things down. Have a good day, Abbey."

Though she poked around a bit, even speaking to a surprisingly nice German woman standing in front of a rack of enormous firearms, she ended up leaving shortly thereafter. She had a job... and a boyfriend... to get back to.

Said boyfriend was in the school library at the moment, a copy of 1001 Nights open in front of him, shaking his head in disbelief at exactly how dense some of the characters could be. This wasn't helping, not really. This particular man largely used his slave (and a slave that genie was) in ways that Justin couldn't conceive of ever wanting to do.

He felt a pressure behind his eyes. It had been bugging him all day, really. A burning desire to pull out that golden coin and use it. This wasn't normal, it wasn't natural. The coin wanted to make him make Wishes. Had to be. He didn't WANT to make a Wish. He wasn't ready. ABBEY wasn't ready, either.

This meant that he had a conundrum. He needed to find a Wish that would be as helpful as he could make it, which wouldn't harm Abbey, AND do it soon. He opened his notebook again. It all came down to four general categories of Thing.

He could try for wealth. Money, property, the stuff that made life easier. Abbey had even said she'd cast one for a million dollars before, though that had come close to killing her. Could he make it work more within her Magic's theme?