From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:21:04 1996 Date: Thu, 5 Dec 1996 17:12:22 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 1 Please keep this for list use only. If posted on the Web page, please make certain my name and e-mail address are removed. (I.e. post it as anonymous) Now, On with the story: (Sorry for any formatting problems) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- TBP: Ravage's Story Prologue (Part 1) (A Delurker's Very FIRST story) The Martian Flu ended up affecting everyone in the world in some way when it hit. Nearly every person on the planet either was related to or knew someone who died from the flu, or was otherwise affected. Of course, it's the 'otherwise affected' category which has the long term effects. I fall into that category. Before the flu, I was just your normal young recent university grad. Through the co-op program at the university, I had a good job already. The pay was half decent, well, actually, the pay was better than half decent, since I was able to afford to rent my own little place ('little' as in about the size of a shack, but it is currently home for me) in the suburbs with it, and still save enough money to tide me over in case of emergency. And the best thing about my job was that I got a chance to work on some really interesting computer projects, both hardware and software related. You see, since I was young, I've always had an interest in computer programs and hardware. (What kid didn't, growing up in the microcomputer boom of the 1980's and 90's?) Unlike most kids though, I managed to make something of it once I got out of college, at least, I was able until the flu hit me; then EVERYTHING changed. I remember that week well. It was near the beginning of February, soon after my 25th birthday. I was nearly finished a project at work, and was looking forward to a short vacation my boss had promised me once this project was done. (The contractor had changed the due date at the last minute, so the boss had called me in the day after Christmas, and I've been working 7 days a week since then; everyone at the company has.) Anyways, it was that week that I first started getting stuffed up. I didnUt think much about it at the time since I nearly always get a cold that time of year. I finished up my part of the project, then told the boss I was taking the next week off. He took one look at me and said, "You look terrible... Forget about your vacation time for now, you're going on sick leave. Call me when you feel better. You can always take your vacation time later, when you feel better. After all, what good is a vacation if you can't enjoy it?" I just nodded thanks to him and headed home. At home, I made myself a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and made myself eat it. I definitely was NOT feeling well. After choking down the soup, I crashed into bed. I felt like I was about to die. I don't think I budged from that bed for about a week. I might've moved to get something to eat, but that was it, and even then I was to stunned to notice much around me. When I finally crawled out of bed , awake enough to do something other than a sleepwalk to the kitchen, I was terribly weak and I still wasn't aware of what was around me. I crawled into the bathroom, and started to wash up. It was at that point I realized what had happened and I wish I had died! * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:21:11 1996 Date: Thu, 5 Dec 1996 17:13:01 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP:Ravage's Story: Part 2 TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 2 The recovery I had just pulled myself up to the sink and started to wash off the weeks worth of grime that builds up when you don't move for a week when I glimpsed my face in the mirror. It hit me then that the face looking back at me was not my own. My face was now covered with black hair, and not the type of hair that appears from not shaving for a week neither. In fact, the hair seemed more like fur, especially when I finally began to notice that I had pointed ears and a small, cat-like muzzle, complete with whiskers and fangs. My eyes had also changed to an amber and were distinctly cat-like. I was too much in shock to notice much else. I think to myself, trying to cope with this change. After a little while, I finally managed to turn my attention to the rest of my body. First, my hands, which had slowly drifted into view in the mirror as I reached up to examine my new face. They, as well as my arms, were now covered with the same black fur as my face, but they were otherwise relatively unchanged. They did seem a tad shorter, and I had small claws coming out of them in place of my fingernails. I think to myself with a bit of a smile. I guess I was starting to adapt already. I thought that until I looked down at the rest of my body, and saw my PJ's (Which I somehow managed to change into before collapsing a week ago) were now stretching in places where they never stretched before. With blood pounding in my head, I hurriedly started to pull of my pajamas. I didn't even notice how my fingers got shorter and my claws and snout became more pronounced while I did that. With my Pajamas off I looked down and saw a gorgeous, female feline body, and a tail, which I hadn't noticed before, curving from behind me. I immediately fainted from the shock, and fell to the floor, just missing banging my head on the toilet. * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:21:14 1996 Date: Thu, 5 Dec 1996 17:13:09 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP:Ravage's Story: Part 3 TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 3 The end of the job I awoke again after the next morning, a little calmer and with an intense hunger in my stomach. I got up, trying to avoid looking in the mirror, or at myself as much as possible, tossed on a robe, and made my way to the kitchen. Once there, I immediately drained the fridge of all the liquids it had in it, including the half-empty carton of milk which expired 3 or 4 days ago. Feeling a little refreshed, I made myself a sandwich and moved to the living room to think and try to figure out what happened. I switched on the TV, and started channel surfing, mainly between CNN and CTV NewsWorld. The news stations were very helpful in jogging my memory. I guess I've been so wrapped up in that project lately (Well it was a BIP: Big Important Project) that I haven't been paying much attention to the news lately. Slowly, my mind pulled up the memories of seeing the Mars Probe return to Earth and the Martian Flu that spread from it, SCABS I think is what it got named. I also remember calling home soon after the outbreak and letting mom and dad know that I was fine. I guess that's what has happened to me now... The flu had waited and affected me months after the initial outbreak. At the moment, both networks were showing a story about Anti-Scab riots going on in Europe. That brought back another memory, this one from work. I remembered when someone else in the office had caught the Martian Flu and became a Scab soon after. My Boss is pretty flexible, but having someone who looked like a Porcupine in the office was too much for him I guess. The worker was laid off soon after, with all benefits of course. (My boss isn't that heartless). It was then I realized that I would not be able to go back to work at the company. I decided it would be best to give him a call and tell him that I'd no longer be able to work there. He would understand (I hope!) Before calling, I tried out my voice. After a couple of false starts, I finally managed to get out some intelligible words. With a bit of practice, my voice sounded halfway decent. It was a little higher than it used to be, and a good deal rougher, but people would be able to understand it. I called up the office: "Hello, Bit Better Computers, Melany speaking. How may I help you?" The voice at the other end answered. "Uh, Mr. Richardson please." I choked out into the phone. "Just one moment please", the voice replied. After holding a few minutes, my boss came on the line. "Tony Richardson speaking, how may I help you?" "Hi, uh, Mr. Richardson, it's Terry" I answered him. "Oh, Hello Terry, how are you feeling? From your answering machine I thought you skipped town on us." He said with a laugh. With those words I remembered my answering machine. I had changed the message to say I was going on vacation the last morning I went to work, and I forgot to change the message when I got back from work. "You mean my vacation message on my machine? I was too sick to change it when I got home from work last week. As for me now, I'm feeling ok now, though the bug I caught affected me more than I expected." I managed to end that line with a nervous laugh. My boss caught on quickly. "I understand," he said quietly, the humor draining from his voice. I could tell he was getting almost as nervous as I was. "I understand you've got two weeks of vacation coming up? Why don't you take them now, and after that, we'll put you on disability pay for as long as it lasts. You've been a good worker, and I'm sorry to lose you. Perhaps someday in the future, you might be able to come back here." "Thank you for understanding sir. I must say, that I have enjoyed working for you. Good-bye sir." I answered him, feeling some of my tension ease. It is then that I notice that during the call, my fingers had grown shorter and my claws longer; But as my tension eased, I felt them change back to the size they were before. I filed that away in the back of my mind to think about later. "Your welcome Terry, Good-bye and Good luck," he replied and hung up. As I hung up the phone, I realized that my life was now changed forever. * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:21:20 1996 Date: Thu, 5 Dec 1996 17:12:34 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 4 TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 4 Adjustments After hanging up the phone, I began to realize that there was much that I needed to do. After much soul searching, I decided that I was going to head home and be among people who loved me. (I hope). Before I did that however, I realized that I was going to need to do some shopping. I cleaned myself up as best as I could, (I was slowly becoming adjusted to what my new body was) and went into my bedroom to find something to wear. After much searching, I found a pair of pants and a sweater that would fit. Before leaving the house I put on a trenchcoat, boots, gloves and a big hat, so that my feline appearance wasn't too obvious. Thank goodness it was the dead of winter, otherwise my getup would be very difficult to explain. To avoid being recognized (Not that many would recognize me like this), I drove to a mall in a town about 100 km away. Driving was a little tricky because of my tail, but I soon got used to driving while sitting a little forward in the seat. At the, I managed to get most of the stuff I figured I'd need with relatively little hassle. Anything else, I'd make due without, since after about an hour in the mall, the smells and the noises were giving me a pounding headache. This new form has stronger senses than my old one. It was then I realized that I wasn't wearing my glasses, which I had since I was 14, yet I was seeing perfectly; if not better than before. Before heading home, I made one final stop at the grocery store. There I picked up on some of the stuff I needed. When I reached the meat section, the smells almost drove me wild with hunger. I loaded my cart up with some meat products, enough to hopefully last me a couple of days, and headed on. After picking up some juice and milk, I reached the fruit and vegetable section. There, I picked up some fruit, but my nose seemed to tell me that they weren't very appetizing. Going through the checkout, I noticed that the clerk and some of the customers were looking at me strangely, but I was too tied up in my own thoughts to pay much attention to them. After another long car drive, I made it back to my house. I just managed to unpack the car and put the groceries away before I collapsed on the couch and fell asleep. I awoke again around midnight to a VERY empty stomach. I moved to the kitchen and pulled out a pack of hamburger I bought earlier. The smell was strong enough to make me want to gulp it down raw, but I stopped myself from doing that. I wasn't ready for it. I pulled out a frying pain and quickly cooked the meat. It didn't smell quite as appetizing as it did before, but I gulped it down anyways. After drinking a glass of juice to wash it down, I headed to the bedroom to get dressed. My body is still strange for me, but at least I'm not as nervous about it as before. The one thing I can't get over is how HOT I look. I think it will be a long time before I get used to that. I dress in the new pair of jeans (with a hole I cut out for my 2 foot long tail) and the sweater I bought. They may not be the most stylish things in the world nowadays, but I've never paid much attention to style anyways. Now dressed and fairly comfortable, I started to get ready to pack up and head home to my parents. Even though it was late at night, I didn't feel tired at all. That 'Cat nap' I had must've really helped me recover my energy. As I looked over my little house, I realized how much junk I accumulated over the year I was living in it. I'm surprised I didn't turn into a rat, considering how I'm a pack rat by nature. I finally managed to decide on what I was going to take and what was going to stay here. Since my lease on the place was till the end of the year, I didn't have to worry too much about leaving things. While packing, I came across an old copy of National Geographic, and on the cover was a face that looked very similar to mine. Flipping the magazine to the article, I realized that the flu bug had partly turned me into a black panther. Reading the article, I learned much about my new form, including the fact that the panther was nocturnal. That explains why my body has switched over to a nocturnal rhythm. By sunrise, I had my car packed with everything I was going to take, except for my computer and answering machine. I also decided that it would be best to drive home during the night, and try to stay out of sight during the day. Though the Anti-Scab riots hadn't reached Canada yet, (And hopefully they won't) there were still some people I knew I would need to be careful to avoid, at least until SCABS became more commonplace. Plus, I wanted to try and get home with as few interruptions as possible, which also meant avoiding my normal shortcut through the States. I also had a cooler on the counter to hold the stuff I bought yesterday, as well as a campstove to cook the meat. I didn't want to take any chances by going to fast food place. Finally, with the sun peaking in around the blinds I had lowered over the windows, I was ready to doze off, but there were a few things I needed to do first. I called the power, water and phone/cable companies and told them to shut them off tomorrow morning. I called the post office and arranged to forward my mail to my parents house, and then I started checking the backlog of messages on my e-mail and answering machine. Thankfully, there were no important messages, so I deleted them all, and went to bed, for what will probably be the last time in this house. * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:21:23 1996 Date: Thu, 5 Dec 1996 17:12:47 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 5 TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 5: 'The Voyage Home' I awoke early the next evening and packed up the rest of the stuff I was taking with me. The last thing I packed was the cooler. Before I filled that, I fried up the last of the hamburger I bought and ate it. A little concerned that I might not be able to each anything but meat, I also grabbed an apple and bit into it. It still tasted the same, perhaps a little blander, but I had some difficulty in chewing it. Fangs are not the best thing to eat fruit with. I finished the apple and tossed it in the compost heap behind my house. I then filled the cooler with the sausage and chicken I had left over, as well as some sandwiches I made from the sandwich meats I bought. I opened up the jar of mustard to spread on one, but the scent of it was enough to make me gag. I quickly decided not to put any mustard on the sandwiches. With the house locked up and the car all packed up, I pulled out of the driveway and headed to the highway. Pulling onto the highway, I checked to make certain that my 'disguise' (The hat, gloves and trenchcoat) were handy, in case I needed to make any stops. Once on the highway, I made certain that I set the cruise control to just under the speed limit. I didn't want to be stopped for speeding. , I think to myself with a wry grin, as I settle down for a long night's driving. The night passed quickly. I stopped at some of the deserted rest stops to grab a sandwich and a can of coke from the cooler. (At least I hadn't lost my taste for pop). Sometimes I would also bundle myself up and head for the washroom, which was another experience I needed to get used too. By morning I was about halfway through Quebec City. Quebec City was the last big city I would pass through on my way home, and I was determined to get past it before stopping for the day. Since traffic was picking up and it was getting brighter out, I had put on my hat to cover my ears and shield my fur covered face. I was starting to feel a little tired, but I was determined to make it past the city. It was then it happened... TRAFFIC JAM. Just after I passed the center of the city, I noticed the traffic slowing down and bunching up. A couple of ambulances and police cars passed me with sirens blaring. A few kilometers up the road I could see where a transport truck had jackknifed, hit a van and a couple of cars, and was now blocking both lanes of the highway. The traffic slowly slowed to a halt, and I was stuck in the middle of it. Where I finally stopped, I had a clear view of what was going on at the accident, which was slowly being cleared up. Realizing that I could be here for a long time, I shifted into park, turned on the radio, and settled in for a wait, a long wait. After an hour, the accident showed no signs of clearing up and I was getting tired and very frustrated. I glanced into the mirror to see how far the lineup was behind me and was shocked to see that muzzle had grown much more pronounced. Glancing down at my hands, I saw that once again, my claws were growing out as my fingers shrunk. "What the??!!" I tried to say, but all that came out was a growl. Then it dawned on me. The tenser or angrier or more frustrated I got, the more cat-err, panther- like I became. With that realization, I calmed myself down and watched as my fingers and muzzle lengthened back to normal size. With a sigh (Which sounded a little like a purr, but it seemed like my voice had returned), I settled back down to wait, this time trying to keep my frustration undercontrol. A half-hour later, traffic started to move again, and I quickly got out of the city. An hour after that, I was in the country again, on open roads. I soon came across a little-used logging road, which ended in a small forest, well shielded from the roads and civilization. Very tired now, I turned off the car, and curled up on the crowded back seat for a snooze. * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:21:29 1996 Date: Thu, 5 Dec 1996 17:13:25 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP:Ravage's Story: Part 6 TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 6: The Arrival The next evening I woke and stretched, banging my arms and legs into the rear passenger's doors. A light snow was falling, and the car was cold, but I felt quite warm. My fur had held in my bodyheat while I slept. Getting out of the car, I set up the camp stove and started cooking the sausage. The sausage was the frozen, precooked stuff, but I was hungry enough not to bother waiting for it to finish thawing nor cooking. After just a couple of minutes on the stove, I took the sausage and gulped it down without thinking of it. A little disgusted with myself after that incident, I washed the taste of the sausage out of my mouth with a can of coke and packed up, ready to hit the highway again. A few more hours of driving brought me to New Brunswick, my home province. I had originally planned to leave the highway here and head the rest of the way home via the back roads, to avoid traffic mainly, but by now the snow was falling hard enough to make even the highways a tricky drive. I did stop at a rest area a short distance into the province to make a meal out of the chicken I brought with me. This time, I made certain that it was cooked, even though I'm not normally a fan of Cajun cooking. By around 6 in the morning, I was pulling off of the Trans Canada Highway onto the road leading to my home. It was then I really started to get nervous, and not just because of the snow. I hadn't given my parents any warning that I was coming, nor what I now looked like, and I wasn't really sure how they would take this. I'm glad my sister is away at University though, since I don't want her to know just yet. I finally needed to stop at the side of the road, a short distance from my house, because my nervousness was too much. It had caused my hands to nearly completely change to paws, making the wheel difficult to control. My back was also paining me from trying to sit-up straight. After breathing deeply for a few minutes, I managed to finally calm down enough to change back to my humanoid form. I quickly finished the drive home, pulled into the driveway and got out. Our old dog was outside barking his fool head off. I walked over to him to try and pet him. At first he growled at me, and then he must have recognized something in my scent. His growls changed to barks of joy and I played in the snow with him for a few seconds. (Mainly to calm myself down). Finally, I built up the nerve to walk through the garage and into the house. "MOM, DAD, IT'S ME, TERRY. I'M HOME!" I shout upstairs, "And I've got ALOT of explaining to do!" I finish off. To be continued...later. * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:21:32 1996 Date: Thu, 5 Dec 1996 22:23:30 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP: Ravage's Story Part 7 OK, here's the next part. I'll probably have another part before I jump a few months into the future to the next part. Sorry for any spelling problems, but I wrote this part on a different computer which doesn't have a spell checker and is prone to crashing. Hope the cliffhanger solution isn't too much of a let down... ------------------------------------------------------------------- TBP: Ravage's Tale Part 7 Relaxation. "HEY MOM AND DAD. IT'S ME, TERRY. I'M HOME!" I shout upstairs. >From upstairs, I hear some muffled thumps and shouts. Finally, I see my mom and dad run around the corner and stop dead in there tracks. Seeing their concerned faces proves to be too much for me. I lose all of the control that has gotten me through the last couple of days, and run up to them, my hat flying off in the process. I try to cry out "Oh, mom, dad", but all that comes out is a soft, sobbing roar. "Terry, what's wrong? What are you doing here?" my mom crys out, seeing my figure. She was alittle taken aback when I started running towards her as my body became more panther-like, but a mother's love and concern came through, and she took me into her arms and just held me. I was sobbing now, nothing intelligible coming out of my month, but I could feel all of the stress, the frustration, the tension, the pain that I've felt for the past couple of days, heck, the past couple of months if you include that rush project, pour out of me as a sobbed. My mom understood that what I needed most right now was comfort and her questions could wait till later. She looked up to my dad and told him: "Get off to work, I'll stay with Terry. Afterall, this storm has already cancelled school, so I don't need to go in to teach." My dad nodded, and quietly left the room. Mom slowly moved me over to the couch and just held me. At some point, I feel mom give a start, but I'm too busy sobbing my eyes out to pay much attention to it. Finally, I begin to regain control and choke back my tears. Pulling away from mom alittle, I look up into her eyes, and see love and compassion in her eyes. "The Martian Flu, it's gone through the town like wildfire. You know Richard Blanche at the school, the one everyone called "The Bear"? Well, now he lives up to his name." She said with a gentle smile. I give a little laugh at that and am surprised that my voice has lost most of the roughness it had just a couple of days ago. Startled, I pull away from mom and run to the bathroom. The face I find looking back at me is still the female face that so shocked me a couple of days ago still looked back at me, but the muzzle and the whiskers were much less pronounced. My ears were smaller, but still pointed and very catlike. Most of the fur had disappeared from my face, though I still a fuzz framing my face. Reaching behind me, I felt felt that my tail had shrunk down to a stub. I understand now why mom was surprised while she was holding me. To have a panther turn into a young lady while she was holding it would surprise anyone. I sense mom moving up behind me and wrapping her arm around me. "I never expected anything like this to happen to anyone in my family, especially this," she said quietly, gesturing at me. "This wasn't exactly what I expected either," I responded, laughing once more. My humour was slowly beginning to recover from the shocks it's been through. "If you don't mind,mom, I really needed your shoulder to cry on, but right now I am really tired. I've been driving all night, and the past few days have taken a lot out of me, and all I want to do right now is collapse," I tell mom quietly. "Go on, your bed is made in your room. Don't worry about your stuff in the car, I'll help you bring it in later. One thing; That cat thing you were when you got here, what is it?" "I don't know exactly what it is, this is _YAWN_ all new to me too. It seems like the more stressed out I am, the more panther-like I become. _Yawn_ Right know, I am the calmest I've been in weeks, so I guess that's why my _YAWN_ cat form is so repressed at the moment." By now we've made it down to my room. I stepped into it and turn to shut the door. "Oh mom?" "Yes dear?" "Could you please keep quiet about me being here and what's happened to me for now? I'm still coming to terms with it myself, and I don't want word to get around quite yet. Maybe later on, but not right now." "Fine, I'll keep quiet for now. I'll move your car into the garage and keep my lips shut. Now you go get to bed, and we'll talk later." I'm too tired to reply to her. I just wander over to my bed, and collapse, enjoying the feelings of being in a familiar setting and with people who love me. I drift off into the deepest sleep I've had since I got sick. I awake slightly from my deep slumber to the sounds of my dad returning home from work. Glancing at my watch, I notice the time is 5 in the afternoon. I wonder what dad is doing home so soon, especially considering the storm, which I can still hear roaring outside. Then I remembered that there was an hour difference here in New Brunswick, and it was actually 6 in the evening. It was still a little early for dad to be home, but not especially early. By now, my parents are upstairs, in the kitchen talking about me. Their voices are slightly muffled, but my ears manage to pick up their voices clearly. "So, how is he?" My father asked. "He's sleeping soundly now. In fact, I'd say that was the fastest he has ever fallen asleep; which is not surprising considering it seems like he's been running on adrenalene for the past couple of days. I wasn't able to get him to tell me everything that's happened to him in the past few days, but whatever it was, he didn't lose his head over it. I checked his car during the day. He packed it in his normal manner, but it looks like he brought everything he thought he would need.". My mom answered. I winch slightly as the sound of pots and pans falling to the floor echos down from the kitchen. "Dammit Mac, when are you going to fix that shelf? We've lived in this house for 20 years now, and every year you've said you were going to put that shelf on rollers, but has it happened yet? NO!, How am I supposed to do anything if I can't even see if the pot I want is on the shelf?" My mom's voice floods the house. I could have easily have heard her even without my 'enhanced' hearing. It is soon replaced by muffled sobs. "I just *SOB* felt so helpless when I held him this *SOB* morning. He was looking for help, and I *HIC* couldn't give it to him! I thought that if I made his *SNIFF* favorite meal, it would help, but I don't even know if he *HIC* if he can still eat spaghetti!" I soon hear the sounds of footsteps across the floor, followed by my father's voice. "There, there, calm down. I'm sure we're doing the best we can for him right now just by being there. Considering what's just happened, he's probably looking for something familiar to grab onto. From what you told me from this morning, you helped him alot just by offering him a shoulder to cry on." There is a short pause filled with the sounds of the pots being picked up off of the floor. My dad continued right after. "And anyways, considering how much he likes spaghetti, he'd probably eat it even if he was a worm!" My mom laughs a little, and I soon hear the sounds of onions and garlic being chopped. Mom's voice, a little stronger now, picks up the conversation. "What a shock that must've been to him... To go to bed as a young man with the world ahead of him and to wake up as this... this... catwoman freak. It's a wonder he didn't go stark raving mad!" "We've raised a strong boy dear, and I think he was about as prepared as a person could be in this situation... You know he's been reading Science Fiction books ever since he grew out of those Hardy Boy books, actually, come to think of it, BEFORE he grew out of those books. He's got a good head on his shoulders and a very flexible mind. He'll get through this, but he's going to need our support.... Now, keep an eye on that sauce or else you're going to burn it" "You're a fine one to talk about cooking... You're normal supper when you make it is fried hamburger with a can of vegetables; I sometimes wonder what you would do if you needed to live without me?" My mom's voice was already beginning to sound better. "So, how was your day today?". My dad mentionned that I've got a very flexible mind, but I know I wouldn't've developped it without the love of those two people upstairs. I realized that I was going to depend on them alot in the coming months, but they would handle it without comment and give me all the support I needed, at least until need became freeloading, at which point I knew I could count on mom to set me back on the right track. As the smell of my mom's excellent spaghetti sauce filled the house, I rolled over and start to doze off. My thoughts are on to the dinner coming up: "Dad was right, I wouldn't miss mom's spaghetti no matter what form I was in... Hope it's ready soooonnnnn...ZZZZ" * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:21:35 1996 Date: Fri, 6 Dec 1996 15:59:25 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP: Ravage's Story: PArt 8 Well, here's the next part of my saga. (Considering the number of ideas I want to bring in, it'll be the length of a saga!). It ends with some humour, provided anyone has the same twisted sense of humour I have. BTW, I guess I won't be leaping the timeline ahead a little yet; I've still got too many ideas I want to take care of before I jump to a "normal" day in the future. Thanks for all the support I've been getting lately, it is greatly appreciated. I'll get around to explaining where "Ravage" comes in eventually. I think I've got a scenario coming up where that would fit in nicely... Finally, this was written on the same machine part 7 was, so that means no spell checker. Hope things aren't too screwed up! Now: On with the show err, STORY! ------------------------------------------------------------------- TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 8 Nightmares and Ceiling Rafters Unlike the sleep I had earlier, this nap turned into one big nightmare. It started out calmly enough: I am still in my basement bedroom, but it isn't finished yet. All of my bedroom furniture has been moved into it, but the carpet hasn't been laid yet, and the ceiling is still missing it's tiles. I soon realize that it is the summer from 5 years ago, just after I moved into the room. I'm lying on my bed late in the evening watching the closing ceremonies of the Atlanta Olympics, feeling full of pride at seeing the huge Canadian Flag the canadian athletes pulled onto the field. I was also joyous at that time to finally get the bedroom in the basement, which I'd been begging for for the past five years. Now, 2 months before leaving for university I got my room. At that point in my life, everything was going great. I just graduated from school with honours, I was going to attend a very prestigious university, and everything in my life seemed to be going perfectly. It was then I felt something crawling on my foot. Glancing down I notice one of the beetles that plagued the house this time of year was crawling onto my foot. Thinking nothing of it, I kick it off and return my attention to the ceremonies on the TV screen. A few minutes later, I shift a little and feel something pounce on my leg again. Glancing down, I see the beetle has returned, only this time he looked a lot bigger. I try to shake it off, but my legs can't move! I watch helplessly, and a little fascinated, as the beetle slowly walked up my leg. I can feel little pricks on my legs as that industrious beetle worked his way up my leg. By the time it reached my knee, I realized that my lower legs felt very strange. Glancing towards my feet, I realize that my feet seemed to become first more feminine, and, as I watched, grew claws and turned into large, black-fur covered paws. Even though I was lying in bed, fully dressed, I could still feel the changes that beetle seemed to cause to me as he started up my chest. The fit of my shorts changed, and I could feel fur pressing against the inside of my clothes. A quick glance at my arms and hands showed a similar thing occuring, even though there was only one beetle which was now about halfway up my t-shirt. I winch as a stab of pain runs up my back. Looking beside me, I see a long, Panther's tail is now sticking out from under me. The pain is from the fact that I'm sitting on it, but I can't move to relieve the pressure. The beetle pauses on my breast bone, staring me right in the face. I can feel it's weight pressing down on my chest. The fabric of my t-shirt stretches as breasts expand on my chest. It is more than I can take, so I tightly shut my eyes and I turn my head, to try and get that sight out of my eyes and mind. I feel my body tense up, waiting for what will happen next. The next thing I feel is a small warm, wet thing press against my neck. With a scream of terror, I wake up and jump out of bed, sort've. While I was sleeping, the sheets had wrapped themselves tightly around me, restricting my movement, so I trip and fall flat on my face as I was leaping out of bed. My tail, which grew out during my nap twitched in the air wildly, knocking over a lamp in the process. As I lept, I also felt some of the weight on my chest seem to leap away, toward the chair of my desk. Untangling myself from my bedsheets, I glance over at the desk chair and see terrified green eyes in a brown and white face, staring out from under the chair. "WHISKERS!!!" I literally roared at the cat hiding under my chair. Upon hearing the roar of an angry panther, the old cat flashed out of my room in a brown and white blur. I soon hear some rapid scratching as she climbed up one of the basement walls to her "hiding place" in the floorjoists of the upstairs floor. Startled at the roar I emitted, I sat back down on my bed to figure out what had happened. From upstairs I could hear footsteps, as my parents came to me to find out what was going on, but I still had a little bit of time to myself to sort out what happened. A quick glance at the clock showed it was now 7:30 in the evening, so I had only dozed for an hour or so. Since my parents would be in my room soon, I knew I didn't have time to figure out my dream, so I decided to figure out what really happened. As near as I could determine, while I dozed, Whiskers, the family cat, had slipped into my room to find out what was up. She did her normal trick of walking up a persons body (The beetle in my dream, I guess), and settling on their chest. Meanwhile, in my dream, I became more and more tense, setting off my panther form. Finally, Whiskers must have started nuzzling me, at which point I woke up and roared at her. My imagination quickly came up with the picture of a black panther, bed sheets wrapped around her, leaping from the bed, and a terrified house cat leaping for cover, and I started to laugh...and laugh...and laugh! At first, my laughs sounded more like strange roars, but soon I could feel the fur thinning, my fingers lengthening, and my laugh became more human like. The light to the basement hallway switches on, as my parents make their way downstairs. "Terry, was that you who roared? What Happened? What's wrong?", my mom asked, questions flying out of her mouth as she came into my room to sit beside me on the bed. My dad stayed beside the door, seeing the pile of sheets on the floor and the lamp that had been knocked over, onto my bed. "I'm fine now mom... I was just having a 'Trouble' induced nightmare," I informed her, with a smile and a laugh, using my nickname for the cat. My voice still had a rasp to it, and I could tell my muzzle was still noticible, but my voice at least had returned. I need to remember to try and see how panther like I could become before losing my voice. "Mom, dad, I'll explain it, and everything else over dinner." "Dinner, , I suppose we can wait till then. It's ready whenever you feel like coming up." She gave me a quick hug, got up and headed for the door. "Fine, I'll be up soon. I'm going to get changed first, though... I've been wearing these clothes for the past few days." My parents notice that my normal smile (However normal I could be, considering what I looked like) and they relaxed noticibly. I walk with mom over to the door of my room. Looking up between the rafters, I see Trouble's green eyes staring back at me. Some of the terror seemed to have been replaced by curiousity and confusion. Indicating the cat hiding in the rafters over our head, I say to dad, "You should probably try and coax her out of there and calm her down." I snicker alittle under my breath, then continue. "It is going to be a LONG time before she dares set foot in my room again, or even comes near me." Dad glances up at the terrified cat and shakes his head. "She'll come down when she's ready," He says. Looking back at me, he asks "What DID you do to her?" With a bit of a rueful grin, I gently shove them out of my room and start to close the door. "I'll tell you the full story at dinner, but let's just say, for now, that 'She now realizes she is no longer the Queen cat around here.' See you upstairs in a few minutes." With those comments, I finish closing the door and look at the mess my room was now in. * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:21:44 1996 Date: Sat, 7 Dec 1996 01:37:44 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP:Ravage's Story Part 9 Ok, this is definitly the longest part I've written, and it probably starts to fall apart a little near the end. (I spent most of the evening typing it up, so by the end, I was very tired). The next section (Whenever I get to it) will definitly start speeding things up a bit, through some of the stuff I hinted at here. BTW, in case anyone is wondering, about the design of the house, and why it takes 2 flights of stairs to go to the level just above my room, this is roughly what the house looks like: 4 levels in total, split something like this: Main bedrooms> ------ ------ ------ ------ < Basement (My room) Ok, here's the next section... ___________________________________________________________ TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 9 Guess Who's Come Home for Dinner? I looked around my room which was now in shambles. WIth a sigh, I straightened the lamp, and tossed the sheets back on the bed. Now that I had some space on the floor, I started to strip off the clothes I had worn for the past few days. Naked, I turn to the mirror on the back of the door and force myself to start examining myself in a saner state of mind then what I was in a few days ago. First, my face. I guess I'm still a little tense or something, since my muzzle extends a few centimeters out from my face. Whiskers also stick out a short distance, but still fairly short. My ears are higher up on my head then normal and definitly pointier, but if worst came to worst, a hat could hide that, and if I pull the rim low, maybe my muzzle wouldn't be too noticable. My hair seems a bit shorter too, though I always kept it fairly short in the first place. Twisting a little, I saw how it changed into fur as it ran down the back of my neck as a short mane, and outlined my face. The fur on my face was not as widespread as when I first looked in the mirror a couple of days ago, but it was more noticible than this morning. It nearly completely frames my face, except for under my chin. My cheeks and forehead are nearly completely clear, though my eyebrows are definitly bushier than they used to be. That's when I notice my eyes. There is no mistaking them for human eyes. They look like they would be perfectly at home on a panther, and yet at the same time, they seem to fit my face purr-fectly. Thinking of that pun, I smile to myself in the mirror, and see a mouthful of very pointed teeth reflected back at me. Opening my mouth a little wider, I examine the inside carefully. I notice I still have some molars in the back, but otherwise, they were all pointed. The good news was, they were all perfect too. All of the fillings, which I have had in my teeth since I was young, were gone. Sticking out my tongue, I determine it is very rough, like a cat's, and perfect for cleaning myself. That I file in the back of my mind, beside the urgings for raw meat. "I'm not quite ready to cough up furballs yet" I think to myself with a smile. All things considered, I now had a very beautiful face. It is a face that someone would need to get used to, but still, a very beautiful, female face. "Ok, you've seen this face numerouse times now. You're used to it. Now get on with the rest of this body so we can start getting on with our life." I think to myself, trying to convince my eyes to drop below eye level in the mirror. After a few seconds of battle, my eyes give up the fight and listen to my mind. They wander down my neck, and slowly, the rest of my body comes into view, starting with my expanded chest. A voice at the back of my mind starts crying out "NO!", but I squash it, and force myself to examine the rest of my body. One of the first things my mind finally comes to grip with, is that my chest is fully covered by a pelt of black fur. From my neckline down to my legs, I was fully covered, except for the tips of my breasts. My fur doesn't start to thin out until it starts down my arms and legs. By the time it reaches my knees and elbows, it appears to ressemble human hair, which nearly fades away by the time it reaches my hands and feet. At this point, I ignore my chest once more and shift my attention to my hands and feet. In both cases, my nails were now gone and replaced with small claws which stuck out from the ends of my fingers and toes. I found with a bit of concentration, I could extend and retract the claws slightly, though not much since they weren't very long right now. Turning my hands over, I saw that the palms of my hand were now very black, and very rough; just like a cat. I checked the bottoms of my feet and confirmed the same sort of pads were there, near my toes. The next thing I manged to come to grips with is the tail. At the moment, it was a foot long, and twitched in the air like it had a mind of its own. It came out of the base of my spine like it had always been there. I just stand there staring at the fur covered tail for a few minutes, watching it move in the air behind me. With a thought I manage to stop its movements, indicating that like the claws, I had full control of my tail, when I thought of it. Finally, my mind returns to my chest. I lightly run my hands over my chest, including my new equipment. The feelings that rush through me are very strange and alien to me, but they do feel good. "Terry, your supper's getting cold" Mom's voice drifts down from upstairs. With a sigh, I pull myself away from the mirror, but not before backing up a little to briefly examine what my new body was. All in all, everything seemed to be in the right proportions for a beautiful young lady. The feline parts seemed to add an extra little bit to give a very sexy beautiful young lady. I think to my self as I turn away from the mirror, shaking my head slightly. "Just a few more minutes!" I shout back upstairs. The roughness is still in my voice, but I'm beginning to get used to it. Looking around my room, I realize everything I brought with me was still in the car, including the stuff from that wild shopping spree before I left. Looking at the dingy clothes on the floor, I quickly decide that whatever I wore, those wouldn't be it. Rumaging through the drawers in my dresser, I came across a pair of underwear, an old pair of jeans and a sweater. The jeans and underwear are very loose, even with my belt pulled tight. The looseness did prove to be a slight advantage; I was able to wrap my tail around my waist enough to keep it in my pants and only slightly uncomfortable. The sweater ended up having the opposite problem; it was tight across my chest, dispite the fact that it was the biggest one I could find. Avoiding the mirror on the door, since my imagination was forming a preatty clear image of what I must look like in this getup, I head up to the next floor, and duck quickly into the small bathroom there, to wash up. In there, I glanced at myself in the small mirror there. The image looking back at me wasn't as bad as I expected. The face was... preatty, especially with the cat features, and the sweater wasn't as bad as I imagined. I left the bathroom and slowly started up the stairs to the kitchen level and my parents waiting at the table. The smell coming from the plate of spaghetti at one end of the table is enough to bring up my hunger. I sit down at the table and dig in, not noticing that my parents had stopped eating and were staring at me in surprise. Pausing between bites, I glance up and see their expressions. This causes me to stop, puzzled, until I thought back to all the times they've seen me today. In both cases, my figure was muffled beneath the trench coat that now lay on the floor of my bedroom. Mom might've realized something while she was hugging me, but as the old saying goes: 'Seeing is believing.' By now, my hunger had diminished enough that I wasn't stuffing myself, so I decided that now would be a good time to tell them everything that had happened to me, since I left work a little over a week ago to when I stepped into the house this morning. "...Finally, this morning I pulled in here and the rest you know. Thinking back over the past couple of days, it's a wonder I made it here at all. My mind was definitly more than a little messed up right after I woke up, but I do think that I'm slowly managing to straighten things out. The main thing is to get used to this body, and until I do, I'd prefer you didn't tell anyone I was here yet." As I finished off my story, I got up and went to the fridge to pour myself a glass of pop and returned to the table. By now, my parents had recovered enough to start asking questions. As I was sitting down, my mom reached across the table and took my hands. "My poor boy, that must have been a shock to wake up like that. I'm glad you managed to make it here safely. Feel free to stay as long as you feel you need." With that she released my hands and returned to her meal, obviously trying to digest more than her meal. Dad just remained silent, but I could see the love in his eyes, and that supported me as much as mom did. We eat in silence for a few minutes, each of us dealing with our own thoughts. Every so often, I can feel mom's or dad's eyes staring at me, but if I glance up, they appear to be concentrating on their meal. Finally, mom looks up, as if a thought just struck her. "Have you seen a doctor lately?" she asks, putting her fork back down. I look up, a little startled at her question. I hadn't even thought of seeing a doctor yet, and the thoughts of having one poking me did not appeal to me. "No, I haven't seen one yet, and I don't want to see one for awhile yet." I replied to her and lowered my head, hoping she would catch my point. In this case, she didn't. "Oh? Why not? Our family doctor has...." "NO!, No doctors, no friends, no family, no nothing! I don't want anyone seeing me like this until *I* am ready for it!" I roared at her. While I was shouting, my voice had deepened so much that the last part was very close to a roar. Glancing down past my muzzle at my hands, I saw that fur was now covering my arms down to my wrists. I took a few deep breaths and managed to calm down enough to reclaim most of my voice. "Look mom, I'm sorry I yelled at you like that. Considering everything that's happened to me, I've still got a lot to work out, and I'd prefer to do that alone for the moment." Mom said nothing, but she was hurt. A gloomy silence settled over the table. Dad realized that it would be wise to change the subject right now, so he asked me what had happened between me and Whisker's earlier. "Well, it partly has to do with a nightmare I was having when Whisker's came to visit me..." I started into the story with gusto, hoping to lighten the mood in the kitchen. It succeeded. Both of my parents quickly realized what the situation had been down there and laughed nervously. (I guess it dawned on them that they now have a potentialy dangerous thing in their basement) I tried to think of something to reassure them, but I couldn't think of anything to say. The meal ended in silence. With dinner finished, mom shooed dad and I out of the kitchen, so she could clean up. With dad's help, I unloaded my car and spent the rest of the evening setting up my room. Conversation between me and my parents had preatty much died after dinner. I feared that I might've alienated the people I was depending greatly on for the near future. My fears were lessoned later that night. Before she went to bed, she came down to my room to see me. At the time, I was on my computer, trying to fleash out an idea I had, to hopefully help me cope better. I had changed into my pyjamas, which were loose enough to allow my tail room to poke over the top. She sat down on the end of my bed, while I turned around to face her. "You understand that, this, is a lot to take in in one day. Your father and I have tried to adjust, but we need some time just like you do. To have your only son turn into something that is either your daughter or your pet depending on their mood, has affected us greatly." She says gently. Her attention seems to partly be destract by my tail which occasionally appears from behind me. Tears seem to be on the verge of forming in her eyes. "Don't worry mom, I understand. I tossed this problem in your laps without any warning, and you're dealing with it the best you can. We'll pull through this eventually, and life will return to normal." I got up and gave her a quick hug. "If it helps, just think of me like one of those Grade nine's you teach... You've always said that some of them were little monsters." I pulled away from her so she could see the closed lip smile I flashed her. " " Those monsters I have at school are an entirely different thing then dealing with you... Now don't you stay up too late. You may think you are now nocturnal, but I can tell from your body that it is still bone tired. That bug you caught must've tossed your internal clock way off track." "Don't worry mom, I'll be in bed by midnight, I promise." I console her. After a quick kiss goodnight, she leaves the room and I turn back to my computer. A few seconds later, mom's voice drifts down the hall to me. "It looks like someone has refound their courage. I think you're going to have a little visitor in your room." Looking behind me, I see a brown and white head peeking in the doorway. "Come on in Trouble, I won't bite you, honnestly!" I say, trying to coax the cat into my room. After carefully looking around the room to see if she could find where the panther was hidden, she finally built up the nerve to step cautiously into the room. She slowly walked over to my computer chair and, after a short pause, started to rub against my legs. I reach down and picked her up. She stiffens in fright at first, but soon relaxes into my arms, purring softly. Like Chanouk, our dog, there seemed to be something about me she recognized. This proved to be very comforting for me. At least there was something that hadn't changed! Looking down at the cat resting in my arms, I remember all the times she's curled up next to me while I was drifting off to sleep, (Somehow managing to take up half of my queen-size bed, dispite only being normal house cat size) and something falls into place in my mind. One of the reasons I came home was to find support from those who love me. At first I thought that it would only be from my parents, but, by looking down at the cat resting in my arms, I realize that my parents aren't the only ones I can turn to for support. "You know, mom was right... I am still a little tired. This can wait until tomorrow" I say to the sleepy cat. I shift the cat slightly to shut down the computer and head for my bed. Upstairs, I can hear dad moving around, shutting off the TV and the lights before going to bed. He opened the side door and let Chanouk into the house for the night. A cold wind and a white blur run down the basement stairs and into my room. Within seconds after dad had opened the side door, I was staring at the white, snow-covered husky who was standing on my bed, tail wagging furiously with joy. Chanouk's entrance had startled Trouble enough to leap out of my arms, so I was free to go over and give the husky a hug. "Hi you big fool!... Yes, I'm glad to see you too!...Really glad" I say to him as I hug and pet him. "Ok, that's enough... You're dripping snow all over my bed... Get down now..." As usual, he doesn't listen to me, but I manage to gently pull him off of the bed. His greetings said, he runs out of my room, past dad, whom I hadn't noticed coming downstairs, and upstairs to his couch in the family room. "Hi, how are you feeling?" Dad asks me gently from the doorway. "Actually, I'm beginning to feel better now, a lot better," I tell him, turning my back to him slightly to pull the bed sheets back, before I continue. "I've been thinking a lot tonight, and I've reached the decision. If mom wants to call the doctor, then tell her go ahead, provided two things. One, she waits until that blizzard going on outside dies down, and secondly, he needs to come out here. I'm slowly adjusting, but I don't want to leave the house just yet." "Mom'll be glad to hear that, and I'm certain that Dr. Clancy will agree to those terms" Dad says softly as he turns to leave. "Good-night Terry" "Night dad," I reply quietly as I turn out the lamp and try to get comfortable in my bed. Just before I drift off, I feel the bed shake slightly as Whiskers jumps up onto the bed and settles down beside me. * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:21:58 1996 Date: Sat, 7 Dec 1996 15:39:00 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP:Ravage's Story: Part 10 No comments this time. If things go as planned, 'Ravage' should be explained in the next section. _______________________________________________________________________ TBP:Ravage's Story: Part 10 Dr. Dolittle Pays a Visit The next week passes as a blur to me. The snowstorm continued to rage outside, and the weathermen say that there was no end in sight for this "Blizzard of the Century", as they named it, dispite the century only being 2 years old. I tend not to pay much attention to it, except when it knocks out the power, and I lose the past hours work on my 'project'. A couple of days after I arrived, there was a slight lull in the storm which mom took advantage of to head into town to pick up some groceries and some other supplies. When she returned a few hours later, she has a surprise for me. "You've always had a terrible eye for sizes, and by the looks of those things you brought with you, it didn't improve with your illness, so I got you these. Hopefully, they will fit." She called downstairs, as she threw down a big bag from the local department store. "Now I want you out of that room, dressed and cleaned up before your father gets home from work. And tonight you are going to eat upstairs with us. No more hiding out in your room." "Yes mom!" I shout upstairs as I head out for the package. I think to myself as I unpack the underwear and pants mom had bought for me. After a few false starts, I managed to get dressed in something other than the pyjamas I've been wearing since I discovered the stuff I had bought were numerous sizes too big. Mom had picked well; The new clothes fit nearly perfectly, including the jeans which were loose enough to allow my tail to stick out over the top. There was one thing missing: there weren't any sweaters or anyother tops to wear over my bra. A little confused at my mom's omission, I grabbed one of my old sweaters and pull it on as I head upstairs to the shower. I pass mom who is marking papers in the kitchen. "Why didn't you get me any tops?" I ask her. "To give you a reason to get out of this house. If you want to keep wearing those ratty old sweaters, than go right ahead, but if you want something else, you're going to need to go out and get it yourself," she replied in her no exceptions voice, without looking up from her papers. With a very small sigh, I continue on to the bathrooms. That was just under a week ago. Since then, I've made certain that I spend a few hours each day with my parents, usually to watch the news or to eat dinner. They would sometimes ask me what I was doing on my computer, but I refused to give them any ideas as to what I was doing, mainly because I don't know yet how they would take what I was planning. Now, it is Sunday, and the day I was dreading was approaching. Yesterday, the weatherman announced that the "Blizzard of the Century" was losing its force, and today, the skies are clear, the plows are busy clearing the roads, and my promise, from that first night here, was about to be called in. I could hear mom on the phone calling Dr. Clancy. "Hello, Doctor Clancy?... It's Jean Sta-... Yes, it's good to hear from you too... Mac and I are doing fine... Now, I'm sorry to be calling you on a Sunday, but something has comeup. You see, last week, the day that blizzard started, our son returned home quite suddenly, and since then, he hasn't left the house... I'm glad you understand... You'll be out tomorrow around noon?... Good, you know where we live, be careful on those roads.... Good-bye, and thank-you for fitting us in your schedual on such short notice." After hanging up the phone, mom came down to my room to break the news to me. "The doctor will be out tomorrow, early in the afternoon." She informed me. With those words, all the progress I felt I'd made over the past week seemed to be on the brink of collapsing. I'd gotten used to just having the 5 of us (Me, my parents and our pets) in the house, and now a stranger would be coming in. I was so nervous, I started to pace my room, feeling my fur slowly spreading out over the rest of my body. "Mom, if you don't mind, I'll skip dinner tonight," I finally say, the rasp in my voice nearly making it unintelligible. She seemed to understand what I was feeling, and tried to comfort me. "Don't worry dear, Dr. Clancy has been our doctor since we moved to this town, and he's learned to adjust to all the things this world, or any world for that matter, could toss at him. Just try and calm down by tomorrow." I simply nod my head, my voice completely gone by now. After a quick hug she leaves. For the rest of the day, I simply pace my room, on all fours, trying to come to terms with someone else seeing me like this. I finally fall asleep on the carpet late in the evening. I awake the next day to the sound of a strange car coming up the driveway (I'd gotten used to the sounds of my parents cars, and could tell when a strange car went by). Chanouk was barking his head off at the person who had just arrived. I got up slowly, realizing that I must've calmed down in my sleep, since I looked nearly human. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was now 1:00 pm, and memories of the doctor coming to visit today flooded back to me. I feel my body start to tense up again, and I force myself to try and calm down by taking deep breaths. Upstairs, I hear mom greeting the doctor. After talking for a few minutes (I'm too busy calming down to pay attention to what they were saying), mom calls down to me. "Terry, the doctor is here to see you. Would you please come upstairs." Seeing no point in delaying the inevitable, I slowly trudge to the stairs and start climbing them, like a deathrow inmate going to the chamber. Keeping my head lowered towards the floor, the first thing I notice about the doctor is that he appears to be wearing brown clown shoes, AND HIS FEET FILLED THEM! Startled, I looked up and saw a human-sized parrot with hands looking back at me. "Hello Terry. I see you've had a run in with the Martian Flu too," the parrot said to me. * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:22:04 1996 Date: Sat, 7 Dec 1996 21:33:27 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP:Ravage's Story: Part 11 TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 11 Longterm forcast: Brainstorms All I can do is stand at the top of the stairs, staring at the parrot-man who used to be the man who took care of most of my families hurts and illnesses. I can see nothing of the old doctor in the feather-covered face looking back at me, but, somehow, I can tell the old doc is still in there. "The flu certainly causes quite a few changes in a person, doesn't it? Now, how about letting me give you a check-up and, after that, we can talk." The parrot, err Doctor, tells me, guiding me into a nearby room, which dad was using as an office. I hadn't realized it until now, but I haven't seen another flu victim in person ever. Mom had gone upstairs to put on a pot of coffee for the doctor and herself. Doctor Clancy started into his checkup, as I slowly came out of my stupor. During the examination, he managed to draw out my story of the past few weeks. Finally, he closed his medical bag, now containing some samples he had drawn to send to the lab in the hospital. "So... you change into a panther whenever you become stressed out?" He asks me, sitting down on a chair. "More than that. It appears to happen whenever I get emotional. Unless I can stay as calm as a Vulcan, I become a cat, and I do NOT have the strength to remain that calm!" I inform him with a smile, "I haven't exactly done much exploring to see which emotions exactly cause the change, but I have found that humour seems to have the reverse effect." "In that case, I'll be safe as long as I can grab a feather to tickle you with!...Damn beak, You don't know how important a smile is until you are no longer able to." He shifts in his seat, in a movement to relieve strain on a constricted tail. I've gotten quite used to shifting in a similar manner after sitting for hours at my computer. "Now, the best thing that I would advise for you is to try and learn to control your emotions; become a Vulcan, as you put it. I'm afraid that that is way beyond me, but I've got a card for someone who could help you... It's around here somewhere," he searches through his briefcase and finally pulls out a card and hands it to me. "He's a Yoga instructor, in Fredericton. The next time you go down there, and I know you will eventually, drop in and see him." "Thank you doc, I might drop in sometime, though I don't expect to be leaving here anytime soon." I take the card and stick it in my pocket, then turn to open the door. "Just a minute Terry." He stops me with a hand on my shoulder. Turning, I find myself looking in his very human eyes. "What the flu does to a person is a very traumatic experience and I understand why you don't want to leave the house; hell, I didn't even leave my bed for a week after I saw what I was; but you need to realize that 'Life goes on, whether you are with it or not'. Adjusting your mind to a new body is the first hurdle a victim needs to overcome, and I can tell you seem to have jumped that one already. The next hurdle however is much higher. You need to jump back into the human race and re-find your niche. Jumping it alone is nearly impossible to do alone or with family, believe me, but if you also have some friends who are willing to give you a boost, it becomes much easier. What I'm trying to say is, that in town, I'm a member of a group of flu victims in the area. We get together every thursday and talk, play cards, and try to support each other as best we can. As luck would have it, we're meeting in the rec center just up the road this week at 10 in the evening. You are welcome to come and join us, if you want. Come under an alias if you wish, I'll understand and keep your identity quiet. And if you don't come this week, give me a call and I'll tell you where the next meeting would be. We change the location everyweek so everyone has an oppurtunity to come to a meeting, amoung other reasons." "I think I understand what you are trying to say doctor, I'll keep it in mind. Thank you for the advice. Now, I think mom has made some coffee and she is waiting for your prognosis." With that, we leave the office and head up to meet mom. She is waiting for us at the top of the stairs. "Well, what happens now?" She asked, wringing her hands in nervousness. "Well, what happens now, is up to her." the doctor says, sitting down at the table, "and there isn't all that much I can tell. The flu is still too new to be able to tell what is 'normal' for people infected with it, but as far as I can tell, she is in better health now than the last time I saw her. Her eyesight is nearly perfect, and her reflexes are better than most young people." The use of the female pronouns startles me, each time the doctor uses them. I chide myself. "Is there any chance of a cure for him?" My mom pleaded. "I really doubt it right now. Perhapes sometime in the future a cure will be found, but for now, there isn't much chance. The best advice I can give is for her, and you, to adjust as best as you can." The doctor pauses to sip from his coffee cup; well, not really a sip, he drinks the coffee by lapping it up like a dog. I noticed mom's face fell with those words, and I decide a change of subject would be in order. "Uh Doctor, If you don't mind me asking, the news lately has been full of people losing their jobs because of the flu, especially in the medical field, so how come you are still working?" "Oh? You don't know? Oh yeah, you've been out of town for the past year. Well, I first caught the flu about 8 months ago, soon after the first wave had died down. It took me a month or so to recover enough to return to my office, supposidly to return to work. Imagine my surprise when I discovered my license was revoked 'For the safety of my patients because I was now a carrier of a potentialy deadly desease.'. Well, I was furious upon reading that message. I was still perfectly capable of being a doctor, and I did NOT want to lose my profession. I started calling around town, and calling in favours from all over the place. Having a town full of lawyers turned out to be an advantage for a change." He paused to take another sip of coffee before continuing. "With all that lawyer power behind me, and the support of my wife, family, and friends, I managed to bulldoze my case through the courts. After a 2 month battle, my license was partly reinstated. I could now only treat people who had confirmed, or highly probable, cases of the Martian Flu. It wasn't everything I wanted, but it would have to do, for now. With that ruling, I lost the majority of my old patients, but I became the only Scab doctor, ugh, I hate that term, for the entire province. Since then, more doctors partly regained their licenses and my coverage has thankfully shrunk down to this town and the rural areas for about 100 klicks around, including over in Maine. Even with a region this size, I find myself run off my feet most days, since 'normal' docs don't want to handle 'Scabs'." He finishes his coffee and checks the time. "Oops, need to go, I've got another appointment in my office in half an hour." We return downstairs, where Doctor Clancy left his 'clown shoes'. I watch, fascinated, as he squeezes his long, bird-like toes into the shoes. Straightening up, he turns to mom and grabs her hand. "Thank you for the coffee, Jean, and don't worry yourself sick over Terry, she'll be fine," he said as he shook her hand. Releasing mom's hand, he turns to me. "As for you, remember what I told you earlier. Transforming into a panther when you're angry, isn't all that bad. Hell, there are times when I wish I could do that! There are many people who are worst off than you are, much worst. Think of this: You can still talk most of the time, so can I, though at first I feared I had lost it. I have examined many people who are so changed, they can't speak anymore, PERIOD. These people are usually the ones who find it hardest to adjust, but most of them do and get on with their lives." With that last bit of advice said, I expected him to turn around and leave. Instead, he leans close to my ears and whispers. "I hope to see you at the meeting this thursday; and if you ever want someone to talk to, feel free to call me, at anytime." Then he turned and walked out the door. "Thank you for coming out here Doctor!" mom calls out to him as the door closes. Once the door is shut, she turns to me and pounces, just as I expected. "What did he just whisper to you?" she asked, blocking the door to the basement with her arm. "He just congratulated me on taking this so well, and reminded me of some advice he gave me earlier," I replied as I ducked under her arm and ran down the stairs. I knew she wouldn't buy that story for a second, but it at least bought me the time I needed to get past her. "Now if you don't mind, he gave me a lot to think about, and I'd like a little time to consider it before dinner!" With that, I reached my room and shut the door before mom could recover. The last line I said definitly was NOT a lie. Doctor Clancy gave me a lot to think about. I had seen many Scabs on the TV, but seeing another one in person caused me to see to see my situation in a new light. His advice would also be very helpful, once I took the time to think about it, but it was four words he had mentionned to me which were bouncing around in my head: "Transforming into a panther". My project had reached a road block a couple of nights ago over one small detail, which I could not work out. But when the doc had said those words, faint memories from my childhood came back to me, and a solution to my roadblock started to form. Muttering "Transforming Panthers" under my breath, I headed for my closet and started searching for my boxes of old comics. (Next part: Project Pheonix) * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:22:08 1996 Date: Sun, 8 Dec 1996 02:10:55 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 12 OK, I think I'll need to stop this story for a little while after this; I've got my first University exams coming up, and I've delayed most of my studying for this. (THe story just didn't want to leave me alone). _______________________________________________________________________ TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 12 Project Pheonix Project Pheonix. This name has been used numerous times in comics, on TV, in the movies, in real life. In almost all the cases it has been used, it stands for rebirth, resurrection. The name fits well for the project I'm planning. Project Pheonix. The ideas for it could be traced back to that fateful morning when I woke up as I am now. Even in the crazed state I was in that morning, or more likely, BECAUSE of that crazed state, I realized my life would never be the same, and nothing I could do would change that. No matter what, I will always consider quitting my job and leaving that city as the first small step in my Project. Now, I stand ready to take the next step, perhapes the most important step. After this point, going back will be very difficult, but going forward would become increasingly easy. All it takes is to push one key to send one message out into the internet to start the ball rolling. I pause to reconsider what I am about to do. I switch over to the logs I had typed up to outline my plan and start reading: -------------------------------------------------------------------------- February 16, 2002 Terry died the week of February 5, 2002 of the Martian Flu, brought to Earth by Nasa. His body was still alive, and his memories still existed, but his personality died that week. At first, only an animal with the bare minimum of skills existed in his body. It was enough to get the body back home in one piece, but that was about it. Now, *I* am in control. Taking control of this body from the animal was easy. Keeping control of it will be the difficult part. I cannot simply announce that Terry is now dead, since that would cause too much hassle. Nor can I simply take his place, since the changes were too great, though in the long run it would probably be simpler than what I am actually planning, but definitly not as much fun. No, what I have planned is more complicated, MUCH more complicated, but pulling it off will definitly be a lot of fun. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Feb. 20, 02 So far the only people who know who I really am, or was, are mom and dad. My old boss has probably already forgotten me, so I don't count him. All my friends know, right now, is that I've been strangely quiet with my e-mail lately. Thankfully, we rarely talk by voice, since we spread all over the continent after leaving school. With e-mail-only communication, starting this plan off is almost ridiculously easy. Soon after the start of the plan, 'Terry' will send out a message to everyone with the same story: 'My job was fine, but I HATED my boss. I've tried to deal with him as best as I could, but to no avail. Finally, I decided I had enough and I quit, but not without a plan. U C, I wasn't the only one who had trouble with Mr. Richardson. There was a young lady in the hardware design department who was also having trouble with the boss. We met at the bus stop after a particularly hard day and started talking. Soon, we both came to the conclusion: We were both going to quit soon, but between the two of us, we had enough exerpience to start up our own small company. A few weeks later, we had some of the basic plans worked out, and we were ready to resign; in fact, I had already resigned. That's when disaster struck. My partner caught that Martian Flu that's been all over the news lately. Once the worst of it was over, we had some major decisions to make. Like some flu victims, she no longer looked completely 'human'. After much discussion, we finally decided to continue on with our plans, with a few slight changes. The main one was that our base of operations was going to change from the city, to my parent's house, since travelling would be a problem for her due to her appearance (You've all seen the news of those beatings and riots). My parent's place was chosen mainly because she was an orphan. We quickly packed and headed home. My parents were very understanding, and after a few days to help her adjust, I left to start searching for jobs our new 'company' could do." This letter would take care my friends over for the moment. Sure there were holes in it big enough to launch the shuttle through, but I'm not going to let them bother me. Future letters from 'Terry' will describe his 'visits' all over the continent and fill in some of the holes. Certainly, some of my more sentimental friends will see more in this than there really is, (Or would that be less than there really is? Oh well) but that was to be expected. Next was the problem with 'Terry's' friends who stilled lived in their hometown. They would be getting the same letter as the long distance friends, with an extra line asking them to stay away for now. That would take care of them for a little while, and the first part of this step of the plan is complete. The second part proved to be much more difficult. I'll work it out later. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Feb. 21,02 The second part of this plan can be summed up in 3 words: WHO AM I??? The only identification I have is for Terry, and I couldn't go changing that yet; it would ruin my plan! After much thought, I've decided that I'll simply go by a name for now, and work out the rest of the details. Too bad I can't think of a name yet. Pheonix project is on hold until I can come up with a name that fits me. It is only by naming myself will I be able to fully separate myself from 'Terry'. Perhapes someday I'll be able to reintegrate 'Terry' into my life, but not now. My sanity relies on me separating myself as much as possible from my old life, and that means keeping this project up as long as possible. All I need is a name... -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Rereading my plan, I begin to wonder what I was on over the past few weeks. Meeting Dr. Clancy had opened my eyes and made me realize that Terry wasn't dead, just VERY changed. I pause for a few seconds, then start to enter in my final entry for this project. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Feb 23, 02 Terry is NOT dead!!!!!! He is still alive and kicking, though in a very different form. And he is about to play the biggest practical joke on his friends, that he has ever done. A visit by Dr. Clancy today put me back on the right track. He gave me a lot of good advice, but just meeting him gave me plenty to think about. He showed me that a Scab could pull their life back together and continue living. Just meeting him has shut up that voice in mind that was the source of all that stuff I've written over the past few days. Well, not quite shut up that voice, but silenced it a great deal. I am still planning on going through with Project Pheonix, but now it will be more of a practical joke than a long term plan. I know I'll get some piece of mind out of it, but I won't be alienating my friends in the process. (Hopefully!) There are still some rather big holes in the plan itself, which I know some people will pick up on right away. Others will realize something is up as time goes by, but in those cases, I'll fill them in on the truth and ask them to continue playing along... Yes, this will be a great trick to play on them; sometime in the future we'll get together and have a real good laugh over this. There was still one hitch to starting this... I still needed a name for my 'partner', mainly for the joke, but also a little for my own peace of mind. We'll, once again, Dr. Clancy showed me a way to the solution, with just 4 words: "Transforming into a Panther". That got me thinking back to some comics I read when I was younger, and the first transforming panther panther I read about. Sure, this panther was a bad guy and he transformed from a tape cassette, but he was the first one I read about, and I kind've liked his name: *Ravage*. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Here I stop my entry and look around my room. My bed was now covered with old comics which I had pulled out, trying to find that name. While searching, I had found other Panther transformers; some good, some bad, but the Decepticon Transformer Ravage had been the first, and I'm a softy for originals. Not knowing what else I could write in my entry, I switch back to the mail program. Without a pause, I hit the send button and send the message out. It isn't the letter to my friends; that letter is awaiting a rewrite in the next window, so the right people guess the truth first. No, this letter is more important. It is a letter to my ISP requesting another e-mail address. I sit back in my chair waiting for a reply. "I do believe that I will take the doctor up on his offer this Thursday, and next week, I might even start into the hassle to update my records," I think to myself, impatiently tapping my fingers on the arm rest. Soon, a new message comes in: "From: Atcon Main Computer Center To: Terry Subject: RE: New E-mail address ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Your request for a second e-mail address has been granted. As of 00:00 AST, Feb. 23, 2002, 'ravage@atcon.com' will be activated. -------------------------------------------------------------------------" I simply stare at the screen, letting the words sinkin, and feeling a weight I hadn't realized I had, disappear. Finally, I come out of my stupor and switch back to the logs to finish my entry for today, with an old quote that seemed appropriate. "Houston, We have lift-off" _______________________________________________________________________ Well, I think that this part is one of my favorites at the moment. It formed well in my head, but I don't know how well it translated. (From my head to the computer ) It is definitly one of the major turning points of my story, and a good point to leave it hanging, if I can. BTW, for whoever is keeping track of the TBP stories, could you please list this story as "From Soundwave"? Thanx to whomever advised me to try and pick up a pen name. I thought of this pen name soon after they mentionned it, but I didn't want to release it until I had explained where 'Ravage' came from. (Didn't want to ruin a potential plot twist or anything like that. :> ). I think that'll be all for now. I'm tired, and I have a lot of studying to do, but I promise I won't leave you hanging for too long. (I hope!) * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:22:14 1996 Date: Tue, 10 Dec 1996 15:54:54 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP: Ravage's Story Part 13 Did I say part 12 was my fav? I meant part 13. Part 12 has some really rough sections I should work out, but this one seemed to come out well... _____________________________________________________________________ TBP: Ravage's Story Part 13 Animal Farm The next few days pass by quickly. After a quick rewrite, I sent out my group message and got really mixed reactions. Most of the responses were positive, to my relief. Many of my friends gave their condolences and wished me and 'Ravage' luck in starting up our business. Some were suspicious of my actions already, but I expected that. The only thing that scared me was that there was a small group who thought I was crazy to be dealing with a 'scab'. This group, I resolved to string them along for a little while, but eventually, they'll be cut out of my loop. Thursday night arrived, and I prepared myself for the meeting. It would be the first time I left the house since I returned home, and, even though I've been preparing for this meeting for the past few days, I was getting very nervous. Late in the afternoon, my nervousness lead to the loss of my voice. Since it didn't seem like I would be calming down enough to regain it any time soon, I dug around the storage boxes in the basement, and found a small chalkboard and chalk. It wasn't what I really wanted, but it would have to do for now. Except to grab a plate of dinner, I stayed in my room all day. Mom watched me strangely as I picked up my meal, but didn't ask me any questions. The look of my face was enough to show her that I was neither in the mood, nor capable to answer anything she asked me. Finally, 10:00 rolls around and I get ready to sneak out of the house. Earlier, I had decided not to tell mom what I was doing, in case I lost my nerve and couldn't convince myself to go into the meeting. I stuffed some chalk and a sheet of paper into my pockets, tucked the board under my arm, pulled on my hat and trenchcoat, and headed upstairs. Pausing at the door, I hear mom on the phone with her brother on the speakerphone, and make my break. Timing my movements to a funny story my uncle was telling, I manage to get the door to the garage opened and closed while my mom was laughing. Through the door, I hear mom stop laughing at the sound of the door, but continue soon after. Breathing a sigh of relief, I slip into my car, which hadn't been moved from the garage since I arrived, and slipped my keys into the ignition. Controlling the wheel and the gearshift with my paw-like hands is difficult, but after fumbling for a few seconds, I shift the car into neutral and let it roll out of the garage and down the driveway. Stopping at the end, I start the car and pull out into the light traffic on my road. It doesn't take more than a few seconds to drive up the hill and park in the half-filled parking lot of the Rec center where Doctor Clancy told me the meeting would be this week. Turning the car off, I lean back (Ignoring the kink it puts in my tail) and take a few deep breaths. Glancing around the parking lot, I mutter to myself, "I've seen more cars for Bingo games..." Then I see what looks like a head with small horns growing out of it, walk by the partly shuttered windows. "...Then again, this is definitly not a Bingo game." Grabbing the chalkboard, I leave my car and walk to the main entrance. There is a small foyer just inside the entrance where it looks like everyone has left their hats and coats. I can clearly hear talking coming from the main hall just past the doors. Peeking through a crack in the doors, I can see some forms moving about, but I can't make them out clearly. I toss my coat and hat onto the pile and straighten my sweater. Taking one more deep breath, thinking 'It's now or never', I throw open the doors and step into the small hall. A silence falls over the room as I scan the faces staring back at me. In total, there were only about 50 people in the room. Most of them seem to have changed to some degree, into an animal. 'Local' animals seemed to make up the majority of the crowd, but there was a number of more 'exotic' animals in attendence too, such as the kangaroo-man staring out from the small kitchen. A couple faces seem to be familiar, despite the changes, but my mind couldn't pull up any names. Finally, I see the familiar, bright plummage of Dr. Clancy at the other end of the hall, talking to a bear-man, and I start walking up the aisle. My movement seems to release the spell on the crowd. Whispered conversations, mostly consisting of 'Who's THAT!', start up as I walk by, tail twitching in the air behind me. About half way up the hall, the Doctor seems to realize who I was and started to open his beak. A slight shake of my head makes him promptly shut it again. Reaching the bear and parrot, I pull out a piece of chalk and the paper I'd stuck in my pocket earlier. Jotting "Excuse us please" on the chalkboard, I flash it to the bear and pull the doctor into the now empty kitchen, well aware of the 50 pairs of eyes watching my movements. "Nice entrance, Terry," the doctor whispers in my ear when we stop. Not paying him any attention, I rub out the old message with my sleeve and write down "Here, read this.". I show him the board and shove the paper into his hands. "Why don't you read it?" He asks, confused at first. Then the light seems to come on. "Oh, you're too nervous, aren't you?" I nod my head in confirmation, then I realize what the inevitable next line would be. "DON'T U DARE SAY IT!" I scrawl onto the board, emphasizing it by running my claws across the slate. "Cat got your, err...., ok, I understand." The doctor, winching at the squeal from the board, quickly got the point. Walking over to the kitchen door and the crowd waiting outside it, he unfolds the paper and reads the short speech I'd written. Looking back up to me, he asks "Are you sure you want to do this?" Seeing my nod, he turns his attention to the crowd. His voice rises above the mumering going on. "Attention everyone! As you can see, we have a new visitor tonight. Her name is 'Ravage'. She's down here staying with the parents of a friend of hers until she can get her life back on track." With that, he crumples the rest of my speech, tosses it in the garbage can, grabs my hand and pulls me back towards the crowd. I'm too confused at the doctor's actions to put up much of a fight. Our movements start the crowd talking again, louder than before. "Don't worry about your speech. It's the same story we've all heard hundreds of times before. I'm glad you decided to come out and all, but you'll get no where standing around all night making speeches. So far, we've found that the best 'cure' a Scab has is to start meeting other Scabs and just start talking, or writing as the case may be." The doctor shouts back at me as we fight our way through the crowd. Finally, we stop in front of the bear whom the doctor was talking to earlier. "Ter,err RAVAGE, I'd like you to meet The Bear. He's the guy who arranges these get togethers. He used to be a teacher at the high school" The doctor says shoving me forward. Looking up at the huge figure before me, my mind rushes back to the first night I was home, when mom had mentionned how one of the teachers had become a bear. Looking carefully into the face above me, I could see some remnants of the teacher I knew in high school, but they were buried in thick black fur. Finally, I hold out my hand to him, in greeting. At first, he seems distracted, as if he has more important things to think about, but then he takes my hand and gives me a crushing hand shake. With formalities over with, he releases my hand and wanders a short distance away. "He is still able to talk, but he doesn't often. He says it hurts his throat too much," the Doctor whispers to me in a mock confidential whisper. "Now, let me introduce you to some of the regulars. The storm seems to have kept some of the people from up river, away, but most of the people from town are here." He raised his voice and started to draw me further into the crowd, when a black fur covered hand falls onto his shoulder. Turning around, he sees the hand belongs to The Bear, and it is now motionning for the doc to follow him. "Looks like The Bear wants to talk to me. Probably got something to do with that 'cure' that was announced today. In my opinion, it's just another crackpot who's looking for fame and fortune, and that's what I'm going to tell him. Well, why don't you just walk around the hall and get to know everyone? I think that there's a couple of guys over in that corner who seem to really want to talk to you," The doctor pointed to a couple of figures who were sitting at a corner table, waving at me frantically. With that, he turned his back to me and walked away with The Bear. "A couple of guys want to talk to me? That's the understatement of the year! Just about every male in this room seems to want to talk to me. Oh well, I've got nothing to lose, and those two seem to really want to see me." I think to myself as I work my way through the crowd. Seeing that I already seemed to have plans, most of the crowd returned to what they were doing before, with the occasional glance up at me. As for the two people waving me over, I don't get a clear view of them until I'm a few feet away from their table, but when I do see them, it stops me dead in my tracks, with my mind whirling. "Ryan and Jeff? What are they doing here? I can't let them see me like this! This will RUIN my plans!" I glance around frantically, looking for a way to avoid the encounter, but I'm too close; the two men had already noticed I'd come their way. They become puzzled when I stop, and they start whispering to each other, but a card game behind me suddenly escalates to a shouting match, drowning out the whispers. Growling under my breath at my own stupidity and at the Doctor for setting me up like this, I started walking again, studying the men carefully. There was no doubt in my mind, they were my old classmates, Ryan Griffin and Jeff Lake. As for why they were here, it was obvious. Jeff had grown a pair of long, white rabbit ears and a pink nose and buckteeth to match. Ryan now had a long, brown furry tail sticking up from behind him, though his face appeared unchanged. I reach their table, and wait for them to make the next move. Jeff moves first, standing up and grabbing my hand. "Hi Ravage. My name is Jeff Lake. That squirrel over there is Ryan Griffen. We're friends of Terry's. We go WAY back. Here have a seat." He pauses long enough for me to sit down, my back to the crowd, before continuing. "To tell you the truth, Ryan and I didn't expect you to show up at a meeting so soon after you got here. Did the Doctor convince you to come? He's the one who got most us us here out of our shells. They say that The Bear was the one who thought up these meetings, but between you, me and these walls, I'd say it was that doctor. He just doesn't want to take the credit. Now, why don't you tell us about yourself. Where are you from, what did you do, how long have you known Terry, what's he been up to lately, how long are you planning to stay in town, when did you change, did you get any powers?" I tune out my old friend as I try to figure out what to do next. I haven't worked out much of the background data for Ravage yet, so the main thing to do was to bluff my way through this conversation and try not to trip myself up in my stories, and try and get out of here ASAP. I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts, I don't notice Jeff has stopped until a few seconds later. Realizing that I now held their attention, I wipe off the chalkboard and start writing. First the true stuff. I write down when I caught the flu and how I changed into a panther. Then my imagination takes over, and I start into Ravage's past. This soon changes into stories from our own pasts as Ryan and Jeff start talking. Thoughts of leaving soon leave my mind as we reminisce about old times, though I stay watchful of subjects that only 'Terry' would know. I quickly used up all the chalk I brought, but the talk of the past and the thinning crowd in the hall, was having a relaxing effect on me, and I could feel myself becoming more human. The conversation stopped often as Ryan and Jeff stared at the retreating fur on my hands and face. Finally I felt my voice return. Shoving the chalk board away, I jump completely into the conversation. Alarm bells started ringing in the back of my mind, but I ignore them; the exhileration of talking to old friends like nothing had changed was too great. Eventually, we started talking about a trip to Florida the three of us had taken with our school band back in high school. It was a trip I talked about often, so 'Ravage' knew many of the stories from it. "I can't remember how many times Terry said he went down Splash Mountain, but he did say it was one of his favorite attractions," I say, getting a little smug at the way I felt I was handling things. "Terry, do YOU still have that picture from the ride?" Jeff asked, leaning forward to study my reaction. "Oh sure, it's still on my desk at hommm... uh oh," The alarms in my head turn into full fledged red alert klaxons. I look up at them, trying to figure out a way to recover, but it was already too late. Jeff had gotten up from the table and was dancing a dance of joy. "I told you she was him! You owe me 50 bucks buster," he says pointing at Ryan, dancing around the table and drawing the attention of the few people left in the hall. "Is he right?" Ryan asks me, almost pleading for me to say no. I simply nod my head dejectedly, mentally kicking myself for falling for that trick so easily. "Ok Jeff, you'll have your money tomorrow, now would you PLEASE calm down; you're creating a scene," Ryan finishes, trying to grab Jeff and force him to sit down. Having lost my relaxed mood, but thankfully not my voice, I reach up and grab Jeff's arm and directed him towards his chair. "Be careful Jeff, I had a light dinner, and right now, I've got a craving for rabbit." I growl at him, just loud enough for him to hear. It wasn't the truth, but it was enough to settle him. Raising my voice slightly, I brought Ryan back into the conversation, "Ok, you've found me out, now, what do you want to know?" "How 'bout your story again, only this time, the true story." Ryan replied, leaning closer to hear better. I tell them the whole story again, leaving out nothing, not even my Phoenix Project. When I finish, Ryan and Jeff stay quiet for a few moments, thinking about what I had told them. Ryan speaks first. "That must've been quite the shock to wake up like that. No wonder you came up with this plan of yours...Which, I guess we've just put a kink in now, haven't we?" "Yeah, I was hoping to hold it together longer than 3 days, but I guess it wasn't meant to be." "And why not? Sure, Ryan and I guessed it preatty quickly, but that was because we grilled you thoroughly, and tricked you in the end. With a little bit of practice to get your story down pat you'll be able to hold your own easily. I'm willing to help give you that practice, and I'm sure Ryan is too," Jeff jumped in excitedly. The idea of creating a new identity from scratch seemed to appeal to him. I stop and think about it, my mood slowly improving. Ryan and Jeff weren't my first choices to bring into the project, but they could be trusted to do what they felt was right. I began to see my plan coming back together. "Sure, Why not? I'd been planning on bringing others in at some point, just not this early. If you guys are willing to help me, then come to my parent's house..." Glancing at my watch, I'm surprised to see it's 1 in the morning, "...sometime tomorrow." Standing up, I stretch and yawn. It's then I notice that the hall was empty, except for the three of us... or so I think, until a voice behind me nearly causes me to jump out of my skin. "I told you to take an alias if it made you feel better, but I did not expect you to go this far. Oh well, do it if you feel it helps, but don't carry it too far, or else you'll end up losing your friends." Spinning around, I see the Doctor and The Bear behind me. It was the Doctor who was talking. "I hope you three are finished now. We need to lock up the hall." "Yup, I do believe that we're done. I'll see you guys tomorrow," I say, heading for the door, waving good-bye to Ryan and Jeff. As I walk by The Bear, he stuffs a piece of paper in my hand. Surprised, I look at it and see the words "Say hi to your mom for me" on it. Looking up at him, The Bear winks at me and smiles. "Will do, sir," I say, smiling back at him before I leave the hall, tired, but pleased that I had decided to come tonight. Arriving home, I leave my car parked outside of the garage, and enter the house, to find my frantic parents waiting for me. "Where have you been? We've been so worried for you, we didn't know where you were, or what you were doing! Considering the way you've been acting lately, we didn't know what to expect!" "I was out thinking, mom, amoung other things. I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going, but I didn't know for sure myself. If you don't mind, could we wait until tomorrow? I'm dead on my feet." "Fine, fine, go to bed, but I'm expecting a full explanation tomorrow, young man!" "Yes mom," I say as I wearily descend the basement stairs. "Oh, one thing before I forget... The Bear asked me to say hi to you... Good-night!" With that, I shut my door to the confused murmerings coming from upstairs, and collapse on the bed fully clothed, and fall fast asleep. ____________________________________________________________________ Ok, I think this just about does it for my Scab characters; anymore would be pushing it. After the next section, I do a time frame jump, promise! * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:22:22 1996 Date: Wed, 11 Dec 1996 11:16:34 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP: Ravage's story Part 14 Ok, this part came out preatty good. One thing I think I should mention, which I neglected to in part 13, is that Ryan and Jeff's fathers teach at the same school as mom does. (A few more comments at the end) ____________________________________________________________________ TBP: Ravage's Story part 14 Trials and Tribulations The sound of the phone wakes me up the next day. Reaching behind me, I snag the handset and put it to my ear. "Hello," I say sleepily into the mouthpiece. "This is your wake-up call with a message. We'll be at your place in another fifteen minutes, so be ready," The cheerful voice at the other end informs me. Groaning, I roll over and sit up, blinking my eyes in the sunlight that fills my room. "Don't you guys ever sleep? It's..." peering at the clock, I make out 11:55, "...nearly noon?!?" "That's right, time for you to get your lazy butt out of bed!" Jeff's voice answers me. "Ryan and I'll be out in 15 minutes, so be ready for us!" Hanging up the phone, I stand up and stretch. "That rabbit stew is really beginning to look appetizing," I mutter to myself as I dig around for a clean set of clothes. Finding some decent clothes, I trudge upstairs to the bathroom and the shower to clean up. On the way up, I notice a note on the freezer door from mom. "Remember, you owe me an explanation for last nite, and please put the roast in the oven for dinner and turn it on at 2:30. The roast is all prepared in the fridge. Love mom." Fifteen minutes later, I'm drying off my fur, when I hear a car pull into the driveway. A minute later, there's a pounding on the front door. "Witness Protection Program! Open up Terry!" Sighing, I quickly dress and head down the stairs. Opening the door, I see two grinning faces staring back at me, and I begin to have some second thoughts about my choice of partners. "Don't you two realize it can be hazardous for your health to wake a sleeping panther?" I say stepping aside so they could come in. "Why do you think we called first?", Ryan said, bending down to take off his boots. "Sigh, Why don't you two get settled in the living room, while I go get some notepads," I tell them, before leaving the hall. A few minutes later, I rejoin them in the living room, notepads and a glass of pop in my hands. What followed was one of the most interesting 3 hours of my life. Ryan and Jeff are the kings of wild ideas, so half the time was spent shooting down ideas such as 'my parents: the KGB agents', but we slowly made progress. By 3:00, we've developped a background for Ravage which didn't seem too outlandish, and, more importantly, one which I was comfortable with. Her life, in a nutshell, was actually quite simple. Ravage, real name Ramona, was an orphan who was left outside an orphanage in Toronto as a baby in 1979. She grew up, unadopted, and graduated with honours from her high school in 1996. She went to the University of Toronto on scholarships and graduated with a degree in Engineering and Computers in 2000. She got a job at 'Bit Better Computers' where she eventually met Terry, and the rest was history. "Whew!, Glad that's over with," I say, leaning back and rereading the biography the three of us had written. "I'm parched. Do either of you want something to drink before you start grilling me on this stuff?" I ask getting up, the sheet still in my hand. "I'll have a glass of water," Jeff said, staring out the window towards the road. "Could you get me a glass of milk?" Ryan asked, collecting all the scraps of paper we used up. "Sure, one glass of water and a glass of milk, coming right up," I say, walking to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, two things catch my eye at the same time. Mom's message on the freezer and the roast sitting in its roasting dish on the shelf in the fridge. "Shit, I forgot the roast! Mom's gonna skin me!" I think to myself, as I slam the fridge door and run over to the oven to turn it on. "Something wrong?" Ryan asks, his arms full of paper for the bluebox. "Yeah, I forgot to put the roast in for dinner." I say, rushing back to the fridge to grab the roasting pan. Balancing it under my arm, I pull the oven door open and set it down on the rack. "So your dinner's going to be a little late. Now that that crisis is over, would mind pointing out where the bluebox is." Ryan says, looking around for a place to dump his load of paper. "In the corner, next to the garbage can," I replied, getting a couple of glasses out of the cupboard. Running the water for Jeff's drink, I'm startled to hear another car pull into the driveway and stop. Ryan and I exchange puzzled looks as Jeff runs through the kitchen shouting "She's here!". "Who's here?" Ryan and I ask in unison. "Nicole is. I met her at Burger King after the meeting last night and I mentionned that I'd met this "Ravage" that you had described in that message. She wanted to meet you too, so I suggested she come by here today." Jeff said, reaching the door. Running down the hall, I ram into the door and slam it shut. "What right did you have inviting her out here like that?!? I'm not ready to meet anyone else yet!" I shout at him. Rage fills my mind, I can feel it affecting my body, and I don't try to fight it at all. "Easy Terry," Jeff says, backing away, out of the reach of my claws. "What do you want me to do now, tell her that you aren't here?" He asks. "YES!!!!" I roar at him, swiping at him with extended claws. "Uh, I think it's to late for that now." Ryan says softly, pointing to a face peering in the window of the door. She backs up in surprise when I turn to glance at her. "Jeff, why don't you let Nicole in and talk to her while I try and calm Terry." With that, Ryan lightly takes my arm and pulls me towards the stairs down to the next level. As I pass him, Jeff shrinks against the wall of the hall in terror. I can clearly smell the fear and panic rising off of him. Once in the family room, Ryan forces me to lay on the couch before he heads to the bathroom to dampen a washcloth. From upstairs, I hear Jeff letting Nicole in. "What the hell was that?!" she asked as she came into the door. "That was Ravage. You arrived before I could warn her you were coming, so right now she's a little P.O'd, mostly at me." Jeff replied, with a nervous laugh.Their footsteps indicate that they were moving into the living room. "She looked dangerous... Do you think I should come back later?" Nicole stopped and asked. "Oh, there's nothing to worry about. Just give her a chance to calm down, and she'll be as harmless as a kitten; Right Ravage?" Distance seemed to be bringing back Jeff's cockiness. My reply with a loud growl so full of malice it freezes Ryan in the doorway. Motionning for Ryan to come forward, I lean back, close my eyes and try and think of thought other than that traitor upstairs. I feel Ryan lay the washcloth on my forhead, and start rubbing my shoulders. It's then I realize that he had tiny claws on the tips of his fingers, nowhere near as big as mine, but they were there. Slowly, I feel the tension and the anger flow out of me. After awhile, I sit up and turn to face him. "You ok now?" he asks me softly. "Yeah, just give me a few more minutes. Why don't you go upstairs and tell them I'll be up shortly." "Fine, remember though, you're Ravage now, NOT Terry." With that, he walks upstairs. I get up from the couch, and walk to the patio doors and stare at the snow-covered forest behind my house, breathing deeply to try and further calm myself. Finally, I head back upstairs to rejoin the group. Seeing me enter the room, Nicole walks up to me with her hand tentatively extended. She was a normal; someone which the flu hadn't directly affected. "Hello, my name is Nicole Harris. I'm a friend of Terry's, like these two clowns," she says gently. "I'm Ravage," I say, taking her hand in mine. "Sorry about earlier. Jeff didn't warn me about you coming, and I kind've lost it. I'm certain it's a mistake he WON'T make again." With those words, I make a show out of extending my shortened, but still sharp claws and pointing them in Jeff's direction. Releasing her hand, I take a seat facing her. "So, is there anything you want to know?" I ask, wanting to get things over with as quickly as possible. With that, I'm kept busy going through the life story we'd worked out earlier. A few minutes into the conversation, Ryan excuses himself and grabs Jeff and takes him out of the room. I listen in with part of my mind as Ryan gives Jeff a big piece of his mind. "What the HELL were you thinking of, inviting someone else out here? You saw last night how difficult it was for Terry to get out to the meeting, so you decide to invite someone else here? What were you thinking of? I should've let him attack you, I was tempted to do that myself!" "I don't what I was thinking of; I guess I figured it would help if he had someone else to go over the story with; I didn't think he would flip out like that!" "Right, you figured it would help... WELL, YOU FIGURED WRONG! I hope you'll think twice before you try and pull a stunt like this again, cuz next time, I might not be around to stop him from ripping your throat out." Good ole Ryan; I knew I could count on him when I needed him. The two men come back in the room soon after; Jeff is much more subdued than earlier. I give Ryan a small smile of thanks, before returning my full attention to my conversation with Nicole. It doesn't take too long before I tell Nicole of my 'life story' and I turn the tables and ask her some questions of my own. (Many of which I already knew the answers to, but I needed to stay in character). I'd learned my lesson the night before and stayed completely clear of any topic which set off warning bells. By 4:30, we've exhausted our personal topics and were now talking about more general things, such as politics and the weather. The sound of another car pulling into the driveway causes me to look up at Jeff, murder in my eyes. He simply stares back at me, dumbfounded. Rushing to the window, I see a familiar grey Intrepid now parked in the driveway, and mom getting out of it. I begin to panic. Glancing at Ryan and Jeff who were looking out the window with me, I mouth "Mom doesn't know." to them. "What's going on?" Nicole asks coming up behind us. We just stand around silently, trying to think of a way out of the situation we could all see coming. The door from the garage opens and mom comes in. Her voice echoes up to us. "Terry, whose cars are those outside?" Nicole looks surprised. "Oh, Is Terry here too? Where is he?" I simply slump down onto the couch, seeing Project Phoenix crashing down in flames once more, not even a day after it was put back on its feet. Ryan and Jeff slump down beside me, dejection showing on their faces. Mom makes her way upstairs and she ducks her head into the living room. "Oh, there you are Terry. Hello Nicole. Is that you Ryan?; and Jeff too! I guess that explains why your fathers haven't been talking about you lately!" "Well, we did ask our parents to keep quiet about us, especially at work... You know how fast rumours spread around that school... we just wanted some peace," Ryan said quietly. By now Nicole is thoroughly confused. "Would someone please explain to me what's going on? I thought you said your name was Ravage, and now you say you're Terry?" she asks, pointing at me. "What's going on here, Terry?" Mom asked, realizing that something was going on she didn't understand. Glaring daggers at Jeff for getting us in this predicament, I get up and walk over to mom. "Could you guys fill Nicole in on my story? I don't feel like going through it again... Now mom, it's a long story. Why don't we go to the kitchen, and I'll fill you in." With thata, I gently pull mom towards the kitchen. Reaching the kitchen, I sit down at one end of the table and pause to gather my thoughts. I finally decide ona place to start. "You know mom, how soon after I got home, I would spend long hours on the computer? Well, this is what I was doing...." _____________________________________________________________________ What happens next is fairly predicatble, so I won't bother going into the details. I had originally planned a shopping trip, trips to the DMV and the yoga instructor, but I couldn't think of a way to fit them in, so they're out. (Assume that they've occured between this part and the next) Sorry for the bad humour in it, it got a little out of control while I was writing, but I'm feeling much better now. :) Yup, you read right, that long awaited time jump is finally upon us. So, without further ado, setting the Delorian's (sp.) computer to June, 2003. Flux capacitor is fully charged. Speed is approaching 55 mph.... (Ok, so it isn't a big jump; next section is just a bridge to the next big section anyways). * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:22:34 1996 Date: Wed, 11 Dec 1996 23:23:41 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 15 TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 15 All Good Things... After two false starts, my Phoenix plan finally succeeded, but now, it was time to end it. There was only one person who still thought Terry and Ravage were two different people, and I would be filling her in tonight, in person. Getting dressed, I think back over the life of the plan. All in all, despite its rocky starts, it had succeeded beyound my wildest expectations. Ryan and Jeff had managed to convince Nicole to play along with the story after much discussion that faithful day. I, on the other hand, couldn't make mom budge from her position. She felt I was completely nuts to be doing this, and she would have no part of it. This lead to many of my friends finding out the truth through a phone call to 'Ravage'. Mom would nearly always answer the phone first, and, upon finding out it was for me, she would simply shout out "Terry! Phone!" Too many long phone conversations followed at that point. Thankfully, I managed to convince everyone to either play along or at least keep quiet for the moment. Some of my friends found more interesting ways to discover the truth. They would dig into Ravage's background and find... nothing. More long phone calls would follow at that point, but these one were much more interesting, since I could string them along with some quick thinking. In the end, I always ended up breaking the news to them, and they seemed to take it well. In hindsight, I think that this group seems, for some reason, to take the truth better than the group which found out due to mom. I pulled on a dark, sleeveless dress and grabbed a light jacket, partly to guard against the chill in the evening, but mainly to have something with long sleeves in case I, for some reason, lost my control. For the past year, I've been training to try and control my emotions, and through that, my change. So far I've succeeded in penning them up for short periods of time, but they tend to explode without warning, causing me to switch to panther form before I can warn anyone. My control had improved to such an extent that my shoulders were now furless, but the cost of this was that when I lost control, I usually lost it completely. "Bye mom! I probably won't be back till late, so don't wait up!" I shout to mom, who's working in one of the flower gardens behind the house. "You be careful out there; I've heard that there's been some trouble in town with a group of scab-haters. Oh, and say hi to everyone for me." she says, coming around the side of the garage. "I will mom, don't worry about it," I say, bending to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before getting in my car. Once on the road, my mind shifted ahead to the night ahead of me. The party I'm going to is a welcome back party for Andrea. She has spent the past couple of years in Africa, on volunteer aid missions, which was the main reason she still didn't know. She finally returned home yesterday, so tonight a bunch of her friends, myself included, were throwing her a party. Soon, I'm pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant we had booked for the evening. Ryan and Nicole pull into the lot right after I do, so I wait until they get out and walk with them to the door. "You look really nice tonight, Terry," Ryan says as we start walking towards the door. "You don't look so bad yourself," I reply. Ryan was wearing a dark suit which was altered so his squirrel tail could fit out. I'd had a similar adjustment made to the dress I wore so that my own tail could move freely. "You ready to break the news to Andrea?" Nicole asks. "Yup, I'll tell her first chance I get... But remember, until I do, I'm still Ravage. Knowing Andrea, you'll know when I tell her." With that, we reached the door to the restaurant. Ryan grabs it and holds it open. "After you ladies." "Why thank you Ryan," I say stepping into the main part of the restaurant. As normal, everything seems to stop dead for a moment; everyone seems to be staring at me and Ryan. Soon, a waitress arrives and takes us to the banquet room. The banquet room presents a different scene to us. The conversation in the room doesn't skip a beat as we enter; everyone is talking or munching on something from the buffet table. The woman of the hour is talking to a small group of people, and doesn't notice our arrival. We start making our way over to her, exchanging greetings along the way. Finally, we are standing in front of Andrea. "Hello Andrea, Long time no see." Ryan starts, giving her a quick hug. "Hi Ryan! Good to see you, in whatever form you take! And Nicole! How've you been lately?" Andrea pulls away from Ryan and hugs Nicole. "And, hmmm, I don't believe we've met," she's now looking at me. "We've met before... In fact, we go a long ways back," I say, trying to hold back a smile; it may be time to end this project, but at least I could have fun ending it. "Andrea, I'd like you to meet Ravage," Ryan jumps in, looking at me strangely. "Oh, Terry's friend! Where is Terry? I thought he was going to show up... Uh, what did you mean by 'We go a long ways back'?; Have we met before?" She looks closely at my face, a puzzled expression on hers. "Terry's around," I say, having difficulty keeping a smirk from my face. "As for us, well, we've met lot's of times before. In Florida, in Europe, in Norwood, in the high school cafeteria playing cards." The smile finally breaks loose, and spreads across my face as I see realization dawn on her face. "Terry? Is that YOU?" "In the flesh, all of it," I say, laughing. "But, but how?! When?!" "The Flu does some strange things to a person's body. As for when, about a year and a half ago; a few weeks before I let everyone know about 'Ravage'" I reply, stepping closer to her. She steps back, before whirling around to face Ryan and Nicole. "YOU KNEW! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!" she shouts at them. I reach over and grab her arm, spinning her back to face me. "They knew, in fact, everyone in this room knew except for you. They didn't tell you because I asked them not too," I tell her gently. "GET AWAY FROM ME YOU...YOU FREAK!!!" She shouts, shoving me away, and running out of the room. I stagger backwards and soon fall into a chair, stunned. The crowd in the room had grown silent during our conversation, and now came forward. A small, Asiatic lady speaks us first. "She didn't take it very well, didn't she?" the lady says quietly. "No she didn't. Wendy, could you go find her and talk to her?" Nicole replies, moving forward to comfort me. The lady nods and walks to the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see two others, Gina and Catherine, going with Wendy. The shock begins to where off me, and I can feel emotions welling up inside me, threatening to break loose. I've gotten used to being called a freak by complete strangers when I go shopping, but to be called one by someone I considered as one of my best friends is too much. Looking up, I see a crowd of faces looking down at me. "Ryan?... get these... people... away... from me;... I'm begining to lose it!" I manage to get out. By now I can feel fur rapidly growing down my arms and legs and spreading across my face. "Clear out people! Give her some room!" Ryan shouts out to the crowd. "That includes you too... You know how she gets when she's like this," he says to Nicole, blocking her approach to me. When the crowd had backed away, he takes my paws into his hands and sits down beside me. I lose control completely. Awkwardly putting my arms (Now more like forlegs) around him, I bury my head into Ryan's shoulder and start sobbing. "There there, it's alright...Get it out of your system... You know, Seeing you like this was probably quite a shock for her... Just give her some time and soon you two will be close friends again." he says, trying to comfort me. He stiffens a little as my claws dig into his back, but still holds me tightly as I sob. Soon I feel my body getting tired and relaxing, though my mind is still racing. "Are you sure you should be doing this?" I faintly hear Jeff whisper to Ryan. "Yes, I'm sure. She needs it to get her feelings back under control. Now, be quiet so I can concentrate," Ryan hisses back at him. My eyes slowly close as all the energy seems to drain out of my body, though my mind still races crazily. Finally, my eyes shut completely and I drift off into a troubled sleep. I wake up slowly, to find myself lying in a corner of the banquet room. The first thing I notice is that I was back to the form I was in when I arrived here earlier. The next thing I notice is that I was only out for a short time... long enough for some of the crowd to leave, though there was still about 20 people in the room, gathered around something on the floor. Moaning, I pull my self up to my feet and start staggering towards the crowd. Nicole and another friend, Scott, spot me and rush over to help. "What's going on?" I manage to get out. "It's Ryan... Soon after you fell asleep, he carried you to that corner, put you down and then collapsed, and Jeff isn't letting us call an ambulance!" Nicole whispers to me, tears in her eyes. As we get closer, I can see that everyone is gathered around a prone Ryan, with Jeff kneeling next to him. A couple of people move out of the way to let me in, and I soon find myself standing over Ryan, Andrea across from me. "Wh...What's going on here?" I stammer out. Jeff looks up, relief clear in his face. "Terry! Good, you're awake. Please take control of your emotions!" "What do you mean? Aren't I in control now?" I say gesturing at my human body. "No! It's all Ryan whose holding them in check, letting you regain your human form. But I think your emotions are too strong for him; he collapsed soon after stabilizing you and hasn't moved since. Don't ask me how he does it, but he does." Jeff replied, begging me to do something. Startled, I sit down in a chair and start breathing deeply to put myself into a semi-trance, like my instructor taught me. Fishing around in my mind in this state, I soon find the force pushing down on my emotions, and I let my imagination take over. The scene my imagination comes up with is of Ryan trying to hold a door to a full closet shut. He appears to be weakening rapidly, so I rush over to help him. At first, it looks like the two of us are enough to hold it shut, until the door starts bucking behind us again. Ryan's eyes are pleading at me to do anything. "Hold tight for a second," I say, not knowing if he can hear me or not. Moving to the edge of the door, I reach inside the crack, grab hold of something and pull it out. Seeing a hissing snake in my hand, I quickly drop it and watch it slither away into the thick fog that surrounds us. Reaching back into the 'closet', I begin to pull out more objects and toss them into the fog. Soon the pressure against the door decreases, and I slam it shut. Imagining some 2X4's, nails and a hammer, I quickly nail the door shut. "Ok Ryan, I've got things under control now, you can let go." he gives me a smile of relief, collapses and fades out. Taking a second to reexamine my handiwork, I smile and start to pull myself out of my trance. The sounds of joyful voices soon reaches my ears. Looking up, I see Ryan is now sitting up, looking extremely weak and tired, but pleased with himself. Glancing down at my arms, I see that they have become furry again, and it hits me what I just did: I had managed to realease some of my emotions when *I* wanted too. My instructor had tried for weeks to teach me how to do that, with no luck, and now I figured out how to do it on my own! Snapping completely out of my trance, I get up and walk over to Ryan. "What the Hell did you think you were doing?" Looking up at me, he smiles before answering. "You needed to be calmed down quickly before you hurt someone... like me!" "But how did you do it?" "I don't know how. I just seem to reach in and clamp down on someone's emotions; I first did it back at your house when Nicole first visited you, though I didn't realize what exactly I was doing at the time. Since then, I've been practicing and trying to figure out how I'm doing it, to no avail. I have discovered that I only seem to be able to affect Scabs though; I've tried it on normals with no effect." Everyone in the room but Jeff and I seems to breath a sigh of relief when he mentions this. "Well, thanks for doing whatever it was you did. I think you helped more than you realize," In the back of my mind, I can still see that closet door nailed shut. Looking up, I see Andrea staring at me, anger flashing in her eyes. "Look, I guess it was a little cruel of me to break the news like I did to you, but I felt you could handle it. I'll understand if you don't ever want to talk to me again, but please, give me a call sometime." She glares at me before turning and walking away. A silent gloom settles across the room, thick as pea soup. Wendy finally breaks the silence. "Come on people! This is supposed to be a party! Let's PARTY!" The music starts up again, and people start talking, but the party mood has been destroyed. Andrea makes a point of staying as far from me as possible for the rest of the evening. Soon, I've had all I could take, and I start saying my good-byes. Before I leave the room, Ryan comes up behind me. "Before you go, there is one thing I wanted to ask you... How the hell did you manage to pull the state of Georgia out of that closet in your mind?" he asks me, a grin on his face. "Well, the only reason I can think of is because of that scab murder in Atlanta yesterday. I guess it's been bothering me since I heard it on the news, and it lead to a case of having 'Georgia on my mind'. See you later Ryan." I smile back at him and leave the restaurant. _________________________________________________________________ Ok, no comments this time, though I do think I need to come up with a new source for titles. This is the second Star Trek title in a row. * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:23:20 1996 Date: Fri, 13 Dec 1996 20:43:27 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP: Ravage's Story Part 16 TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 16 Wheelin' and Dealin' ----------------------------------------------------------------------- To: Ms. Ravage, The proposal you sent to us was very intriguing, but we feel that there simply isn't a market for that product at this time. We will keep your proposal in our records... ----------------------------------------------------------------------- With a growl of frustration, I crumple up the letter and toss it into the overflowing garbage can in the corner. I've lost track of the number of rejection letters I've received, but there are too many, WAY too many. After seven long years of hard work designing this new keyboard, putting it together and patenting some of the new ideas in it, I was ready to sell it, but no one wanted it. Could no one see how this would make things easier for scabs and normals alike? I've sent proposals out to what seems like hundreds of companies, who deal with everything ranging from computers to aids for the disabled, and everyone I've heard from yet has said the same thing: 'Nice idea, but we aren't interested... Don't call us, we'll call you." I look over to my computer desk where my invention sits. It doesn't look like much; just a pile of wires, circuit boards, screens and buttons; but it works, and that's all I cared about... in the beginning. Now, everyday brings more and more frustrations and more rejections. The second version of the keyboard sits on a workbench in the main part of the basement, waiting for more money to finish it. Building the first version had drained my savings, and now I was depending on my parents for cash. It was a situation I did not enjoy, but it shows no signs of changing anytime soon. Soon, my eyes wander up to the bulletin board above my computer. Pinned on it is the one ray of light I have. After recieving the first batch of rejections, I'd prepared and sent out a second batch of proposals, including, as a joke, a proposal to Yamaha's Music Division. The reply I got was really surprising. Getting up from my desk, I walk over to the board and reread the message, even though I have every word on the page memorized. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Yamaha Music Division: North America To Ms Ravage: Your proposal is very interesting, but I am confused as to why you are sending us ideas to develop a computer keyboard. It is for that reason why I must say we are turning it down. However, if you could ever adjust your plans to work with an electric piano keyboard, please let us know and we will reconsider your proposal. Sincerely, Tony Barr Manager, New Ideas Division, Yamaha Music, North America. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- 'That's it... Once I finish going through the rest of these rejections, I'm going to start redesigning,' I promise myself, while returning to my desk. The next few letters quickly join the first, inside the garbage pail. My mind begins to wander onto what changes would be needed to setup a piano keyboard, and debating whether I should start using my real name instead of that nickname I've grown fond of, while my eyes automatically scan the letters. I've already crumpled the letter in my hand when my mind clues in on what it said. Smoothing it out again, I reread it, more slowly than earlier. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- To: Ms. Ravage; Improve Your Life Industries (ImpYL) is a company which deals with mechanical aids for people with disabilities. With the arrival of the Martian Flu in 2001, we expanded, and are still expanding, our product line to help victims of the flu return to as normal a life as possible. Your proposal fits in well with our ideals so, needless to say, we are anxious to see a demonstration of your keyboard. A representative who will be at the Lord BeaverBrook Inn in Fredericton, NB from July 12 to July 19. Please contact us at (273) 453-8353 to arrange an appointment with him. Yours Truly, Robert McLellan Product Developement, ImpYL Industries. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ With a shout of joy, I spring up from my desk and run upstairs to tell, well, to tell everyone! Sure it isn't a 100% certainty yet, but it's the best prospect I've gotten in months, and I feel like celibrating. The next month passes by in a blur. Most of my time is spent finishing the second version and testing it to make absolutely certain that nothing was going to go wrong. Finally, July 15, the day I made the appointment for, arrives and I load up the car for the drive down to Fredericton. Arriving at the hotel, I set up my computer and keyboard quickly, and start testing, to make certain the ride down didn't loosen any wires. Finding everything working fine, I sit back and wait, nervousness increasing by the second. Thankfully, I don't have long to wait; the ImpYL industries representative arrives soon after I settle down. He is a rather nondescript middle aged man, wearing a typical business suit, and carrying a briefcase. Standing up, I introduce myself to him. "Hello, my name is Rah, err Terry, but I prefer Ravage." "Hello Ravage, my name is Leon Watti, from Improve Your Life Industries. Don't be nervous; as was described in the letter we sent you, we deal with Scabs everyday, and many of them prefer to go by a different name. Now, to get down to business, where is this new keyboard of yours?" Leon sits down at one end of the table, near the computer. Taking a deep breath, I start into the speech I had prepared. "Ok, as you can see here, the keyboard for this computer appears to be the standard QWERTY keyboard, only bulkier. With this keyboard, it is relatively easy to type in messages, PROVIDED you have the normal number of fingers, and they are the 'normal' length." While I say my speech, I type it into the word processor program running on the computer, making certain that Leon had a clear view of the screen and my hands typing on the keyboard. "However, if for some reason a person loses some fingers, through Scabs or an accident or someother reason, then typing becomes much more difficult... Uh, please don't be alarmed, I just need to do something to help make my point, and I will no longer be able to speak during that time." I pause here and look up at Leon. "Go ahead, do what you need to do... As long as it doesn't include hurting me in someway." Leon replies with a grin. With his words of encouragement, I close my eyes and go into my mind to the closet, where I bottle up my emotions. I open the door enough to let out the amount of tension I knew I needed to succeed. As the emotions flowed by me, I could feel my fur growing out and my fingers shrinking, until I reached the point I wanted. Opening my eyes again, I look down at my hands and see my shrunken fingers and lengthend claws. Turning to the keyboard, without even glancing at Leon, whom I'm certain is staring at me, openmouthed, I start to type on the keyboard, using one 'finger'. 'as you can can see, in this form, my fingers are the wrong shape and the size to use this keyboard efficiently. but, by adding this cartridge to the back of the board...presto" I show him the cartridge I had brought with me, turn the power to the keyboard off and insert it in the back of the board. Turning the power on again, the board makes whiring and clicking noises as the keys on the board rearrange themselves to a new design. I continue typing, this time much faster than before, but not quite at my normal speed. "Now, you can see that this shape of the keyboard is much more suited to the paws my hands are now. The size of the keys themselves are still a slight problem, but I have an idea for a solution to this problem. The base setting for this keyboard is the normal QWERTY board, which is why there was no cartridge in the back in the beginning... Now, would you mind if we took a short break before we continue?" "Uhm, yeah sure, go right ahead. I want to make a quick call anyways," he says, a thoughtful expression on his face. He gets up and walks to the door. "I'll be back in about 15 minutes." Once he leaves the room, I start the process of recovering my human form. With Ryan's help, or when I am tired, changing back becomes ridiculously simple, but right now Ryan is somewhere out west with his family, and I am too excited to be tired, so I need to do it the hard way. Reaching into the bag I brought with me, I pull out an old phone book and let instincts take over, while I retreat into my mind. Raw emotion takes over, as I tear into the phone book and start battling to stuff the emotions I released earlier back into the closet. Ten minutes later, small pieces of paper settle on the floor as I lean back in my chair, the battle won once again. With a sigh, I gather up the scraps that had settled on the table and toss them in the garbage; housekeeping will not be happy with me. Leon returns a few minutes later, and stops dead in the door. Seeing his expression, I explain, "This was the only way I had to recover from my earlier transformation. I've heard that I'm interesting to watch when I do this, though only from a distance." I finish with a grin, indicating for him to retake his seat. "It must have been quite a paper blizzard in here," Leon says shakely as he slowly walks into the room. Seeing the results of what I had done seems to have transfered my nervousness onto him. He sits back down in his chair and waits for me to continue. "Well, as you may not realize, this is a very early prototype. It is mainly held together with spit and duct tape, but it does manage to show what I want to do. Right now, the key movements are limited and of course the size of the keys is also a problem, but I do have ideas to expand on this. Adding in the extras I have in mind will be fairly simple to do...." I trail off as I realize I'm beginning to ramble. "I do believe we have a top seller here, Right Leon?" A voice asks, seeming to come out of the briefcase. I look up in confusion at Leon. He simply smiles as he pops the catches and opens up the case. Inside, instead of the usual papers is a tv screen and camera. "Yes, this is one of the most promising products I've seen this week. Ravage, I would like you to meet Robert McLellan, chief decision maker for the new products department." "Well, I suppose you could call my job that. Now Ravage, I have an offer for you that I hope you won't refuse. How would you like to work for Impyl in the developement of that keyboard of yours? If you wish, you may continue to work at home, but I do believe that the new lab we just opened here in the city would be a nicer environment to work in." My mind is spinning with everything that has just happened. I remain tongue-tied for several seconds as I weigh my options (Limited though they may be). Reaching my decision, I untie my tongue, "I... I'm not sure what to say... well,.. how about YES! I accept your offer." "Good, good, I'm glad to hear that. We can discuss other details later, including your ideas for improvements to the board. Right now though, I would like to see more of your keyboard." Robert's face broke into a grin at my acceptance, before becoming serious again as he got down to business. "Well sir, this is how it works..." _____________________________________________________________________ This part is a bit rough. It's only a short section I needed to bridge over to the next section, and I don't think it came through right. Next section will be better. BTW, FYI, The Lord BeaverBrook hotel (Can't remember if it's an inn or hotel) is an actual hotel in Fredericton, and one of oldest, and 'richest' in the city. Anyways, just a couple of more sections left after this. (I am going to be leaving some loose threads hanging, which I might tie later on...) * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 09:23:38 1996 Date: Sat, 14 Dec 1996 12:04:12 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at When I wrote part 16, I think I had caught a bug or something. Anyways, that part should definitly have gone through the wringer. This Part, OTOH, was supposed to go one way, but ended up going in a completly different direction. (Style wise, the story is what I've intended all along) Sorry for the repetition of all the previous parts, but it seemed to fit. (And I am debating whether or not to move this up to part 1) More at the end. _________________________________________________________________________ TBP: Ravage's Story Part 17 The Guardian It's amazing how fast a person's life can change. Fifteen years ago, I was a young man fresh out of university, with a good job with a computer firm in Ontario. The world had been spread in front of me, ready for me to grab it. (And you were grabbing it) Then the Martian Flu struck me, and in one week my life had changed forever. No longer male, not even fully human, my life and future all crumbled at once. The shock was so great, I didn't even go back to work, I just made the long drive home trying to cope with the new form the flu had giving me. Mom and Dad took my change well considering I arrived with no warning. They never let on how hard my change had been on them, despite the fact that their son was now the hottest woman in town, or the most dangerous panther in town, depending on her mood. With their support, and the support of friends, both old and new, I slowly began to put my life together. Personally, I don't know how I would've gotten through that period without friends like Doc Clancy, The Bear, Jeff and especially Ryan. Ryan, who would've thought we'd turn out the way we did. We were born on the same day, though different hospitals. We first met in grade 1 and have been close friends ever since. He was always willing, if you needed support or just needed someone to cheer you up. (And in those early days you had needed both.) Ryan had been affected by the flu too, though he wasn't affected as much as I (or perhapes a good deal more, depending on your point of view). Externally, the flu hadn't changed him much. Sure, he now had a long, bushy squirrel tail and small claws, but he could still appear like he used to without too much difficulty. That's opposed to me who couldn't appear like I used to no matter what I did. Even without the panther tail, eyes, ears, claws and fur, my female body looked nothing like what I used to. Mentally however, Ryan had changed a great deal. For me, the only really mental change had been the fact that how panther-like I was was directly related to how emotional I was. In those early days, as the shock wore off, it lead to many long prowls in the woods around my house as a full panther. Ryan was a great deal more changed. With time, he had discovered that he could block the emotions of another Scab. This came in handy in those early days before I learned to control my own emotions. (I haven't heard if he could also enhance emotions too....) Then there was Ravage. Ravage was the identity I had developed to help cope with my change. Why I named me after the transforming Decepticon Panther, I'll never know, but I guess I had my reasons then. The identity is long gone, but the name remains. Nowadays, I go by Ravage more than my old name. There are somedays when I don't think I can even remember my old name. (It's Terry) Time heals all wounds, including my mental ones, and I eventually came out of my shell to rejoin the world, except for one problem... my life had lost its direction. It hurt to hear from friends (the ones who still talked to you) who were helping the sick in Africa, or making millions in the software markets, while I was loafing around in my bedroom all day long, but my dreams had been shattered, and they were taking longer to reform than my mind had. With time, I began toying around with an idea I had to improve the computer keyboard for Scabs whose hands were drastically changed. In my spare time (Which you had a lot of then), I slowly made something of it. After many years of work, it was finally ready, and I tried to sell it, to no avail. (Until ImpYL came along; I'm getting there!; Sorry!) (Where was I? Oh yeah, ImpYL). Since no one was interested in my idea, I was quickly falling back into the doldrums. That's when I heard from ImpYL: Improve You Life. They snapped up my invention and me at the same time, and I had refound the direction of my life; my life was finally back on track. My idea didn't quite have the earth shattering results I expected, but it was enough to keep the company happy. (And start a revolution in the design of keyboards of all types.) The company was pleased enough with me to promote me a couple of years ago,to a regional manager position in the Canadian Maritimes. (Once all of your ideas dried up that is) Now, instead of thinking up new products, I travel around the Maritimes, guageing how well a new product idea would go over here. My life had finally recovered. The world was no longer in front of me, ready to grab, but at least I had a good job which I enjoyed doing. And, as of this morning, I now had the oppurtunity to move up, and really have some impact. The fax had come in this morning with the news. Robert Wattie, my supervisor, had been killed in an avalanche while skiing in Switzerland, and I was the board's choice to replace him. Accepting would mean being on the board of ImpYL, being rich, travelling, seeing the world. The cost of this though, was being away from home, friends, family for months, even years at a time. Staying in this position would lead to being stuck here for the rest of my life, but I was at most a day's drive from home, and the pay wasn't that bad. The board wanted my decision by the end of the week; three days away. (And this dilemma explains why you are here, floating in the middle of the ocean....) Which inturn explains why I'm floating in the middle of the ocean. With that thought, I snap out of the daze that the waves had lulled me into. Splashing around, I finally spy lights, about a kilometer away, coming from Dominion beach, near Glace Bay, Nova Scotia. Officially, I was here in Nova Scotia to guage how a swim fin for hoofed feet would go over (Not at all here). Unofficially, I was visiting my aunt and uncle, who live in the village just beyond the head behind me. When the notice had come in this morning, I'd been about to send in my report and get ready to move on to the next location, Prince Edward Island. After the notice, I held off the report to by some time before leaving. I took the day off, and drove to the beach to swim, rest and think. My figure attracted the eyes of most of the men on the beach, but I ignore them and dive into the waves rolling into the shore. Reaching a point well past the bulk of the other swimmers on this warm July afternoon, I layed back in the water and thought. Glancing at my watch, I see that I've been daydreaming for a few hours, but I felt I was nowhere nearer a solution. Something brushes against my foot and absentmindedly shove it away. "I guess I'm not going to be deciding anything out here today," I think with a sigh, and start the swim towards the shore. It's then that the low buzz I've been hearing in the background changes to a loud roar. Turning my head, I see a motor boat is heading directly at me, full speed. "DIE YOU FILTHY SCAB!!!" the pilot shouts at me, his mouth twisted in an evil grin. Panic and terror rush through me, unchecked, changing me completely to panther. In this form, I try to swim out of the path of the boat, but the pilot manages to keep me directly infront of the prow. "Guess I don't need to worry about that promotion," is the only thought running through my head as that boat draws closer to me. Without warning, I feel something reach up from the water, wrap around my chest and pull me down into the deeps. The roar of the motor boat passing overhead, combined with the lack of air causes me to black out. When I come to, I realize that I am no longer in the water and I have returned to my human form. I roll onto my side and cough up what feels like half of the Atlantic ocean. I feel something on my shoulder as a voice tells me, "There, there, take it easy. You swallowed a lot of water, but I think you'll be fine now." Cracking my eyes open a little, I see what has to be the most handsome face I've ever seen looking back to me. "Who, Who are you? What happened?" I mutter. "My name is Ray, though some my friends call me Doctor Octopus. I'm a marine biologist from the states. I was getting some samples from the floor around Dominion beach when I saw that boat try and ram you. Acting quickly, I reached up and pulled you down. Sorry I didn't warn you, but there wasn't the time. I did inform the police of what happened, and they managed to get the jerk who was piloting the boat. They will want a quick statement from you soon," the man replied, his gentle smile relaxing me. Looking towards the shore, I can see a couple of police cars, with the jerk who tried to run me over sitting in one of them. Blinking against the bright sun, I take another look at my saviour and see him clearly for the first time. The person over me has a man's head and chest, but that's about it. Instead of standing on two legs, he is standing on two tentacles, complete with suckers. About halfway up his chest, another pair of tentacles stick out, as well as where his arms should be. Finally, to complete the octet, another pair are sticking up from his shoulders and appear to fall down his back. All eight tentacles are about 3 or 4 feet long, and seem to be identical to eachother. One of the arm tentacles is laying on my shoulder. >From the sensations on my shoulder, I can feel the suckers on the arm, but it doesn't seem to be slimy or gross, just very muscular. "Thank you Ray," I say as I sit up. Looking back into his face, I feel something stir inside me which I have never felt before. "Uh, Ray, would you like to go out for dinner tonight, as my thanks to you?" "Hmmm, Why not? I've got no plans. I hope you know of a good steak house somewhere around here. I'm getting sick of seafood." "Certainly, there's a place right on the main street of Glace Bay. I'm going to go home and get changed, so how 'bout we meet here on the docks at 7?" "Sure, see you then," Ray says as he jumps off the dock and into the sea. The next couple of days pass by quickly. Ray (or Doc Oct as I sometimes called him) and I met everyday in the morning and spent the day with eachother. We told eachother our stories and just plain had fun together. Turns out that Ray is capable of breathing both underwater and in air. He can stay out of water for long periods of time, but the itch of his drying tentacles drives him crazy. He had swam up the coast, following a pod of whales from a distance, early in the summer, carrying only a waterproof package with his clothes and a waterproof camera to take pictures to sell to magazines in it, and had stayed in the area since then. The most wonderful news he told me was where he was from... it was the same city where ImpYL was located! Upon finding that tidbit of information out, I made several decisions at once. That evening, I informed the board that I was accepting the job, before I went to the local mall to make a purchase. The next morning, I met Ray on the dock as usual, but I stopped him before he headed to my car. "Wait a minute Ray, there is something I want to ask you. I know this isn't traditional or anything like that, but will you marry me?" I hold out the gold chain with a ring hanging off of it I had bought the evening before. He stops in midstep, and stares at me. "I know you would like me to say yes, but..." My face falls at the 'but'. He gives me a mysterious smile, "...I prefer to do things the traditional way." With that, he pulls out a small ring case and kneels down on the deck. "Ravage, will YOU marry me?" I don't say a word, I just run up and hug him tightly. That was a few weeks ago. Ray has wrapped up his studies here in Nova Scotia, and was preparing to head home. I, on the other hand, have been wading through more red tape than I thought possible to prepare for the move down to the states, but with the companies lawyers, everything was straightened out and I was clear to move down to work as a new supervisor at ImpYL. That left one last thing to take care of. The company jet would take us from Sydney airport to the city, but not without a pitstop at Fredericton airport. Ray and I were driving home and break the news to mom and dad. Yup, it is definitly amazing how quickly a person's life change. Fifteen years ago, my life had come crashing down around me. Now, I have been promoted to one of the major positions in ImpYL industries, and I have my future husband. Won't mom and dad be surprised to meet their future son-in-law.... ________________________________________________________________________ The first part may be a little confusing. Consider the things in brackets as thoughts coming from a second train of thought. I'd originally started those brackets as a small aside, but they soon took on a life of their own. There are also some slight discrepentcies (sp.) between what I remember happening and what happened. Those will be corrected someday. (Consider this part as correct). I'd originally planned for Ray to go by Doc Octopus, but the name Ray came out of no where and seemed to fit him. One more section and then Hi ho! Hi Ho! It's off to the Blind Pig I go. :) (I'd been planning on skipping mom and dad meeting Ray, but I think that leaves things hanging too much.) * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at From tspaffor@undergrad.math.uwaterloo.ca Sun Dec 15 17:14:24 1996 Date: Sun, 15 Dec 1996 12:22:21 -0500 (EST) From: Terry Spafford Reply-To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at To: tsa-talk@netbase.t0.or.at Subject: TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 18 Sorry about the last part. I sent it before I realized I'd forgotten the subject. If anyone missed it, just ask me and I'll try to get it to you. (Eventually). _______________________________________________________________________ TBP: Ravage's Story: Part 18 Look What The Cat Dragged In Dad is at work and mom is out, when Ray and I get to the house. "Mom's probably out grocery shopping. She should be back soon though. Is there anything I can get you dear?" I say as we walk up to the kitchen. "Nothing right now, but would you mind if I got in your bathtub to soak for a little while? That canned air in the airplane really dries me out." Ray answers, scratching at some dry spots on his tentacles. "Go right ahead. It's upstairs, at the end of the hall." Ray rushes upstairs, and soon I hear the sound of running water in the bathroom. I root around in the fridge and soon come up with some things to make a sandwich with. "Is that a car I hear coming into the driveway?" Ray's voice echoes downstairs. Looking out the window, I see mom getting out of her car and walking back to the trunk, glancing over to my rental car with a puzzled expression. "Yup, mom's home. I think that it'll be best if you stay up there while I break the news to mom." Without waiting for a response, I run downstairs and out the garage to the car. "Hi mom!" "Terry!? What are you doing here? I thought you were still on the island," she says, putting the groceries on the hood to give me a hug. When she releases me, I grab the bags and we start walking back to the house. "Well, I decided to stop off here on my way to my new job, since I might not be back for a while. AND, I have some other news to tell you of." "So you accepted that promotion? Good for you! I'm sorry to hear what happened to Robert, but at least the company couldn't have picked a better replacement," she says, her face beaming as she holds the door open for me. "Thanks mom, I knew you would support me." "You know I'll support you, no matter what you decided on. Though if you had passed up on this promotion, you would never here the end of it... Who's in the bathroom upstairs? Did Beth come home without warning us again?" She settles down into a kitchen chair while I put the groceries away. "Not that I'm aware of. As far as I know, sis is still out west with her boyfriend. Which brings me to the second reason I'm here... Mom, your future son-in-law is upstairs in the tub." I stop and turn around to see her expression. It is a classical stunned expression. Shaking her head, she opens and closes her mouth a few times, trying to decide what to say. Finally, she refinds her tongue. "Wh-... What are you saying exactly?" "I mean, my future husband is upstairs in the tub. We first met a few weeks ago and hit it off like we knew each other for years." "You mean to say, you've only known this guy for a few weeks and you've already decided to marry each other? How much do you know about this guy? How do you know he isn't going to soak you for all of your money and then leave you, or worst!" The concern in her voice is clear to me. "Don't worry mom. He's clear. His name is Ray, and he is a marine biologist and marine photographer. I've seen some of the pictures he's taken in National Geographic, along with an interview they did on him. As for soaking me, I'm sure he's going to do that, but not in the way you think," I smile to try to ease mom's concerns, but the look of concern doesn't leave her face. Upstairs, I can hear the tub draining, so I call up to Ray, "Ray!, Could you please come down and meet my mom!" "Just a minute!" After a couple of minutes, the bathroom door opens and Ray walks out and joins me on the kitchen level, dressed in his usual shorts and t-shirt, with holes to fit his extra arms. "Mom, I'd like you to meet Ray, Ray, this is my mom, Jean." Mom is once again stunned speechless by Ray's appearance, so Ray takes the initiative. "Pleased to meet you madam," he says, extending a tentacle towards her. "If I may say so, you have raised a wonderful daughter in Ravage." Mom shies away from the tentacle at first, but then tentatively reaches out and lightly shakes it. "Has he told you his full story, including the fact that he used to be my son?" Mom asks slowly, carefully judging Ray's reactions. "Oh yes, Ravage told me her full story, including what the Flu did to her. Needless to say, I was surprised at her story at first, but I've seen what the Flu does to people, and as the old saying goes, 'true love conquers all'. Please don't worry Jean, I am not planning on harming your daught, err, SON in anyway. In fact, to be completely frank, I'm a little more concerned about MY safety around her. The way she tried to handle that boat, well, let's just say that: if the pilot had tried any tricks like he did, on dry land, they'd still be picking up the scraps," Ray smiles at me as I put my arm around him. He wraps a couple of tentacles around me as we face mom. "Boat? What's this about a boat?" Mom asks, turning her attention rapidly to me. "I had a slight mishap on Dominion beach. I was daydreaming in the ocean, when this guy tried to run me over with his speed boat. It was Ray here, who saved me, by pulling me under water. Don't worry mom, I'm safe now, and that crazy fool is behind bars for the next little while. Seems that not only did he try to kill me, he was trying to kill me in a boat he didn't even own. It wasn't an attack on me personally; I think he hated Scabs in general, so even when he does get out, I doubt he'll come after me. But if he does, I'll be ready." I punctuate the last part by raising my free hand and extending my short claws. She simply looks at Ray and I. I can see that she is trying to make some sense out of the situation I had just put her into. "This is... too much for me to take right now. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go lie down," mom says as she gets up and walks slowly to the stairs. Ray and I step out of her way. After the door to her bedroom shuts, I let Ray go and return to the counter to finish the sandwiches I'd started earlier. "Don't worry about mom, I do believe that she is starting to like you. The problem is, I don't think she's ever adjusted to the fact that I am no longer the son she raised. Just give her some time, and soon you'll be as much a part of the family as Beth and I," I say softly, so mom doesn't hear me. "I could tell that, the way she still refers to you by 'he' and 'him'. I guess this is one small case where I'm lucky that my parents are dead... So, what are you making over there?" "Oh, just some sandwiches for lunch. I hope you don't mind tuna fish; it was the only thing I could find." "Tuna will be fine. Do you think your father have a problem with our announcement?" "Dad? Nah, the easiest way to his heart is to start talking about that big race coming up tomorrow. You are both interested in those Indy car races, so you should hit it off quite quickly. By the end of the race tomorrow, he'll be treating you like his long lost son," That thought causes me to pause in mid knife stroke. Dad and I had always been close, but I'd always been closer to mom. I just never shared the same interests dad had. Beth, on the other hand, had picked up many of dad's likes, such as the car races and demolition derbies, so the two of them were very close. A week later, I'd been proven right in guessing my parents reactions. Dad and Ray had watched the car race the day after we'd arrived, and were arguing like old friends about the new, enviromentally friendlier engines which were used, by the end of it. I think winning dad over was what finally lead to mom caving in and accepting Ray as my husband to be. She still hadn't quite accepted me as a female, but it was the most progress I'd made with her in years. In all, Ray and I stayed a week and a half at my home. When we left, mom came down to Fredericton airport to see us off. "You be careful in that city now, and make certain you call me often," mom says, tearfully to me before turning to Ray. "As for you, if I ever find 1 hair hurt on Terry, I'm going to make certain I'll be eating fresh calamari that evening." "Mom, calamari is Squid, not octopus," I gently correct her. "Octopus or squid, it's all the same to me. I'm sure Ray gets my point," she replies with a grim look on her face as she stares at Ray. Softening her face, she faces me again. "Now, promise me to let me know immediately when the wedding date has been set." "Don't worry mom, you'll be the third person to know, after Ray and I that is... I love you mom." "I love you too. Now, have a pleasant trip and call me once you land." "I promise." With one last quick hug, Ray and I walk out of the building and climb into the plane. Twenty minutes later, the small plane has taken off and is slowly climbing to its cruising altitude, heading south. Looking out the window, I can see Fredericton spreading out behind the plane and the blue snake, that was the St. John River following the plane for a short distance. I realize that this will probably be the last time I see this view for a long time, and I try to lock every detail into memory. Finally, the plane climbs above a cloud which blocks the view, and I return my attention to the documents on my lap. "Enough of the past, let's look at the future, my future," I think to myself, as I start reading the details of the reports carefully. ________________________________________________________________ Ok, the part we've all been waiting for is coming up. I finally arrive, and I'm hoping that I don't screw things up big time. At the end of the next part, any and all characters I came up with are available for your use (Though it might be easiest to stick with the ones who actually make it to the Blind Pig). Someday, I may even come up with another idea to carry things further... * * * If this is a story, it's copyrighted to Terry Spafford . If you want to post this anywhere else, please talk to the author and get permission first. Thank you ------ The discussion list for the Transformation Story Archive --------- WWW-List-Archive at: http://www.t0.or.at/cgi-bin/thomash-lwgate/tsa-talk for help write to: tsa-talk-request@t0.or.at to get human help: thomash@t0.or.at