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THE BIRD ALWAYS WINS By Limewah Featuring characters created by: Gerrark Flarfenarfle Vel’gahrus Inu_shift Suadero Passerby 18+ only

CHAPTER 6

LUX

Lux knew things were going from bad to worse. The sinking feeling in the pit of their stomach felt supernatural - maybe they had some latent psychic powers or something, but they knew something was wrong.

The lack of response from Grassroot was one sign. The fact that his tracker put him already up at the peacock’s penthouse felt far too good to be true.

Geek-Gecko was heading up there, too… he was supposed to stay put lower down. That didn’t bode well.

And who knew where Kryk was at this point?

All Lux could do was stick to their end of the plan. They were working their way slowly, carefully up a building that was definitely too labyrinthine to be up to fire code. There seemed to be no way in or out of the top floors of the building that didn’t involve an elevator or a lethal drop.

They’d managed to chart a course that was at least marginally less dangerous. Once they were three floors from the top, they could slip into a pantry that had a rather large ventilation shaft in it (seemingly used to help keep the white wine chilled). From there, they just had to crawl over some beams overlooking a large function room, followed by a mercifully short climb up through an elevator shaft, then they’d be at the top floor!

Lux knew better than to try to take anyone on in a fight. They were probably even worse in direct combat than Geek-Gecko. Their ability to bend and catch light compensated for that, at least. Keeping the light from reaching someone’s eyes in just the right way could completely cloak the panda from anyone’s vision. Plus a sudden burst of it made for a very convenient flashbang if they needed to beat a hasty getaway.

Maybe it could snap Grassroot out of his stupor, too.

Grassroot must have accidentally activated his earpiece - Lux wasn’t spared any of the aural details.

Grassroot was moaning like a docile feral beast, and taking such deep in-breaths through his nose that it was causing the microphone to peak and make the bone-conducting earpiece rattle against Lux’s skull.

There was a voice, too distant to hear, but with a questioning, teasing intonation.

“Yes, Boss,” Grassroot moaned. “I love the smell of your ass, it’s so… ppperfeeect…”

It was making it so hard for the panda to concentrate. Especially when they were currently trying to slither past a squirrel with balloon-sized biceps to get into a penthouse suite.

The sounds of lewd slurping and pathetic whines was a constant irritation as they sidled against the wall and carefully sidled around the hunk of muscle. The stench of cheap cologne and cheaper cigars make their eyes water and their nose wrinkle.

The journey was slow. Leem was bare-pawed, minimising the sounds of their footfalls, but at this close proximity they had to be glacial.

The squirrel snorted with the suddenness and violent volume of a gunshot. Leem flinched, holding their breath and squeezing their tail tighter around their midsection.

At that very same moment, their skull vibrated again, at the sound of Grassroot screaming. It sounded like a death-scream. For a moment, Lux’s heart dropped and stomach twisted. But as the screams turned to a whining moan like a deflating pooltoy, Lux realised that, no, he was just climaxing. Very loudly, at that.

Unfortunately, it was just loud enough for something to register and make the squirrel’s tufted ears twitch. His head shot down to look directly at Lux - or rather, through him.

“Hunh?” His beady eyes narrowed. Lux ducked down as low as they could, their legs spreading wide to avoid the mook’s thick boots. The squirrel waved at the air in front of him, groping for nothing at all.

“What da hell…” the hand began to quest lower, and it brushed just against the tip of Lux’s ears.

“The HELL?”

Lux didn’t have time to think. They willed the light in front of the squirrel’s eyes to peel apart into their constituent parts, as if split by a prism. A rainbow danced before the mook’s eyes, an overwhelming snarl of sparkling lights.

The panda had only a second to act, a tiny window to take advantage of that dizzy state of mind. As the thug stumbled back, Lux leapt up and pulled their muzzle up to ear level.

“SLEEP.” they said, firmly, sharply.

It worked. The squirrel’s eyes went white as his pupils rolled up behind his eyelids, and he flopped against the wall and sank down. Lux continued to speak, pouring a stream of words into the thug’s ears to ease his journey down into his deep dark slumber.

“Go to sleep for me, that’s what makes sense right now, just sleep, it feels good to sleep, deep, down, nothing can disturb you, nothing will bother you, you deserve a nap…”

As the squirrel finally settled on the floor, Lux cradled his head, smelling the alcohol on his breath, and ensured that he didn’t topple over.

Maybe drinking on the job made him that bit more susceptible. Hopefully he’d be good and stay asleep for a while.

“Phew…” Lux wiped their brow, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through them, before returning their attention to the door. The temperature between the hallway and the pantry was at least 5 degrees, and Lux tried not to shiver too loudly as they slipped into the darkness of the pantry.

They heard a loud click.

Light suddenly flooded the room.

They heard another loud click.

The room was far bigger than Lux expected. And far more packed.

Lux looked straight down the barrel of a pistol. Their vision was so hyper-focused on the glint of metal, the bullet hidden somewhere in that chamber and ready to drill through their head, they couldn’t even make out who was holding the gun.

“The gecko was right,” the gun’s wielder said with a sneer.

Lux’s vision came into focus, and they looked past the gun at the giant panda’s dark eyes.

“This means we got ‘em all. Now, you’re coming with-”

A crash came from behind the panda. Lux jammed their eyes shut and ducked down low with a rather pathetic yelp.

Lux only had their eyes closed for a moment. When they opened them again, every single thug was strewn about the room, all in varying compromised positions, and unconscious to boot.

Kryk was looming over them, grinning. Before Lux could say anything else, she raised one of her feet and pressed it down into their face.

“Oh, hey, it’s you!”

“Mmmngh!” Lux squirmed. “What the f-!”

“Doesn’t this take you back, little fuzzball? The last time I had you underclaw like this, you were begging me to push down harder. You couldn’t stop babbling about how pretty I was… couldn’t blame ya there since you had a head full of venom. It suited ya.”

Kryk pushed down a little harder, that firm scaly sole sandwiching Lux between it and the wall. It was firm, the scent was sharp and pheromonal, and Lux felt light-headed - not from any of her venomous influence, but from being more than a little flustered. Though… her soles felt softer than they remembered.

She slackened her pressure on Lux, and they rolled out from underneath.

“Is th-this really the time…?” The panda sputtered and panted.

“Shouldn’t you be saying, ‘oh, thank you for saving me, Kryk, you’re so amaziiing~?’” Kryk fluttered her eyelids and grinned even more widely.

“We’re still in the Pavo, Kryk, neither of us are ‘saved’ until we get out of here! We need to do something about Gecko and Grassroot!”

“Don’t worry about the Geek,” Kryk said with a shrug. “They already got him.”

“I know that. Which is why we need to get them outta there, before they tell Gerrark something they shouldn’t!”

“Eh, fair enough.” Kryk shrugged. “What d’ya think we should do?”

“I’m…” Lux looked at the unconscious bodies strewn about the room. “I’m gonna stick to my end of the plan. Just… stay safe.”

“Sure thing.” Kryk said, her smile seeming to soften. “Good luck!”

With that, she turned and slid back out the way she came.

…Lux watched her go, and frowned.

Something felt… off about her.

She normally was a lot more flagrant with her property damage. She didn’t drag her claws along the walls, or smash the door off its hinges.

Also, what was with that smile at the end?

And… didn’t that panda say ‘all of them’?

Before Lux could follow that train of thought, Grassroot’s voice came through their earpiece once again.

“Thank you, Boss…” Grassroot mumbled, his voice uncomfortably crystal-clear in Lux’s head. “Thank you for letting me be your sweatrag…”

“Geek, can we please mute him…?” Lux hissed.

There was no response.

“Hello?” Lux whispered. “You still there? Anyone…?”

“Mnnnmh… yes, Boss, your ass is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted…”

Grassroot was having a good time. Lux tried to avoid forming a mental image, but it was impossible to escape.

“I’ll do anything for more, please, please, I’ll do anything…”

Lux tried not to think about how there was a little part of them that was a little jealous. Lux had been brainwashed one too many times… to the point they had a bit of a thing for it now.

“Yes, there are others, Boss. Three of them…-”

“Geek, c’mon, now’d be a great time to cut off the connection…!”

“Yes, one of them’s talking right now…” That was Geek’s voice. “Lux, you should come join us....”

When Lux caught the first hint of a binaural hiss creeping through their skull and massage their mind, and felt an all-too-familiar feeling of falling into a warm bed, they reached into their ear and dug out the earpiece. The sound was still reaching their ears, more ‘felt’ than ‘heard’. It was starting to fill their head, drown their thoughts out, make them wonder if maybe they should just let their head fill up, and…

They stomped down as hard as they could. Thankfully one stomp was enough to crack the earpiece and put an end to the noise. Though Lux stomped a couple more times, just to be safe

A half-second longer, and they’d have been knocked out, easy pickings.

“Crap…” Lux sighed. “Awesome. Hope Kryk wasn’t wearing hers…”

-

The journey through the vents wasn’t too taxing, though it was an achingly slow one. It was giving Lux time to think. Perhaps too much time. Their mind was reeling with ‘what ifs’ and ‘how do I’s - since they were cut off from the rest of the team, they had no way of knowing what was ahead. They would have to think on their feet. One of their least favourite things to do.

The air in the vents was getting warmer. Not hot enough to be a furnace - good thing too, that would have meant Lux was very off-course. But it wasn’t what they were expecting.

They could feel a subtle bass-line, too. Probably not live music, more likely pre-recorded, the sort of light background noise you’d expect at an evening function. But Geek-Gecko’s preliminary study didn’t turn up any mention of something going on here tonight…

The closer they got to that grate, the more they caught a whiff of a tell-tale funk. One that they’d never experienced, but one they could recognize. They pulled up the turtle-neck of their sweater to cover their mouth.

They were picking out specific instruments too. Fluttering flutes along with a throbbing bassy drone, and what sounded like some eastern stringed instrument… sex cult chic.

They reached the grate overlooking the function room, and peered inside.

That name really wasn’t really apt. It was more like a darkroom, or a dungeon.

Lux could practically see the steam rising off of the bodies in that humid space, as they rolled around with each other, sheets and bolts of cloth wrapped around them like the coils of some massive serpent.

The Boss was at the epicentre, surrounded by the others.

As Lux carefully unhinged the grate, they kept breathing, kept their thumping heart as quiet as they could. Thankfully, there was a convenient load-bearing beam going straight across to another grate, one that was creating a cross-breeze.

They were trained enough to be able to keep their cloak up with very little concentration, but the sights, sounds and scents of the orgy was almost too much to bear.

If they lost balance and fell from the rafters… they’d probably end up joining in, against their will.

The room reeked of sex, smoke, and thick cologne. The fumes alone would probably be enough to knock the panda out cold, if they didn’t have their turtleneck pulled up to mitigate it a little.

The twisting mass of rutting bodies ringed around the blue and orange plumage. The Boss was in the eye of the hurricane of lust.

He was thrusting straight downwards into Kryk’s pussy. Her eyes were wide, spiralling faster with each thrust. She had an open mouthed, panting grin, and was yipping like a puppy. Her tongue was lolled out to one side, draped on the floor like a wet piece of meat.

The pink scaled Kobold was lying with his head resting against the raptor’s ass, lapping at the boss’ dangling nuts. Whenever the bird shoved himself deep inside, Vel buried his snout into the base of the shaft and lathered it with his needy, desperate tongue.

With each slap and thrust, Gerrark’s thick ass jiggled, ripples of fat travelling along his glutes like waves in an ocean. His cheeks spread wide whenever he pulled back, baring his pucker for his audience.

Grassroot had a front row seat for that. He was staring, his head nodding up and down with each thrust. His eyes were swirling orange and red, the very motion of his Boss’ thick, sweating ass was enough to put him into an even deeper trance. He was slowly bending forward, his mouth oozing saliva, as he pumped at his cock needily. Something was wrapped around his snout - it looked like a sock, dark and damp with sweat.

The big ferret, one Lux didn’t recognize, was kneeling just above the rutting trio, and was massaging Gerrark’s back with one hand, while wanking with the other. Lux could hear the cracks and pops of the Boss’ spine. Gerrark tilted his head back and crowed with delight with each crack, before burying himself even deeper than before.

“Nnnh, that’s why you’re one of my favourite mooks~! Keep that up for me, juuust like th-Nngh!”

The next time his back cracked, Gerrark buried himself deep into the raptor’s cunt, his long neck curling back as he crowed with ecstasy. The whole room stopped to listen in rapturous attention. Gerrark’s mating-call washed over his flock, and it seemed to be enough to make some of them groan out their own climaxes.

Gerrark’s thighs were pressed right against Kryk’s, and the Gecko remained buried underneath them. Thick white rivulets of cum began to leak from Kryk’s sex, and it drizzled all over the pink lizard’s face. He moaned and lapped it up dutifully, his eyelids rolling and his mouth hanging open gratefully.

Lux could see why Gerrark commanded the sheer adoration he did. Reality seemed to warp around his sheer charisma.

They should have sent more than five people. This was a mistake.

But at least if Lux escaped, it wouldn’t be a complete defeat.

“Mmnh…” Gerrark leaned back and sighed, his orgasm petering out. He shook his ass, and his plumage unfurled like a fan, perpendicular to the floor and spreading out. The flame-coloured rosettes were bared, pointing up towards the ceiling. The iridescent plumage caught the light like a tanning reflector, and it spread and sparkled through the entire room. All eyes were on him again, and all of them pulsed and swirled in concert. Grassroot was at the epicentre of it, his whole face aglow as he groaned with ecstasy. He pulled his cock free from Kryk’s vulva, and she collapsed back a little. Gerrark didn’t miss a beat. He angled his hips straight down, and plunged it into Geek-Gecko’s waiting mouth. He pistoned and pushed, and the kobold wriggled beneath him, sputtering and scrabbling for purchase on the floor.

“Now now, mooks…” Gerrark said, with the tone of a pleased schoolteacher. “When did I say you all could stop fucking?”

Lux had to tear their eyes away from the sight. They could feel themself starting to slip. They couldn’t stay.

As they turned and scurried back along the rafter, towards the darkness from where they’d came, they could hear the sounds of sex beginning anew.

They couldn’t help it. One last look over the shoulder. Everyone had resumed their positions from before, but now all of them had their eyes trained downwards on the sparkling fan of feathers, no matter how awkward the position was for them. Their sense of comfort was secondary to obedience to the Boss.

Gerrark, for his part, was leant over Kryk’s belly, still buried inside her. A cigarette on a long obsidian holder was resting between his fingertips, and he took slow, luxuriating puffs, enjoying being the centre of attention.

Lux realised there was some pre staining the inside of their undies. Not to mention it was tented up, achingly sensitive to any and all movements.

Maybe they could rub one out really quick from up here.

Their left hand slid down to the bulge in their crotch and groped. Their form shimmered and began to come back into focus.

They were too horny to keep themself cloaked

The realisation made them flinch, and made their body pitch slightly along the rafter.

“Oh fuck-” they sputtered, and returned their focus to bending the light around them.

The only thing that saved them was the fact that everyone was still focused on Gerrark, the epicentre of the whirlpool of sunny lust.

And Gerrark was probably too distracted to notice either… hopefully.

Though he was the first person Lux looked at. And he was facing away from them when they made the sound.

Lux didn’t linger on that fear, nor did they linger in the darkroom any longer. While they were having their fun down there, Lux could get up to the penthouse and snoop.

As soon as they were out the other side, they breathed a sigh of relief, before instantly sucking in a breath as they saw the open chasm of the elevator shaft beneath them. The sound of their sharp in-breath seemed to tumble down into the darkness.

This elevator had direct access to the dungeon… presumably so the Boss could head there without having to interact with riff-raff.

God, he was full of himself.

…which, unfortunately, made him seem even more attractive to Lux, with their terrible taste in men.

Not that Lux was going to give him the chance to seduce them. Not a chance.

They climbed up slowly and carefully - just two floors, n-no big deal…! - and reached the elevator doors for the penthouse floor. As Vel had shown them in the planning phase, there was a small release hatch that would make the doors open from the inside without setting off an alarm. After a little groping, they found it and twisted, before hoisting themself through the doors immediately.

Any security cameras would have just seen the doors open slightly before closing again - some superstitious guard might think the place was haunted.

The hallway to the penthouse was predictably opulent. A silver serpentine archway stood at the opposite end of the room, flanked by two statues of imposing, flute-playing panthers. Almost certainly something the bird had ‘acquired’ off the black market. As Lux walked, they looked at the paintings flanking them on the walls. Verdant green jungle-scapes contrasted with the orange and burgundy tones of the wall-paper. The epitome of opulence.

The doors opened on the opposite end of the room, and a messy emerald coloured bird with darker patches around the eyes crawled out from behind it. He looked dizzy, dishevelled… not to mention naked except for a see-through orange loincloth.

“Ohhh, I gotta get outta here, gotta get outta here…” The poor guy sounded panicked. Like he’d been on a week long bender and woken up in another state. Honestly, that seemed to be quite likely.

The avian was lingering at the still open door, looking past the cloaked panda and towards the elevator doors. He was starting to tear up, his breaths hitching up more and more with each passing moment.

Lux was a sap. That was what made them a good hero. They couldn’t let this poor guy twist in the wind. He might even know something.

“Psst.” Lux whispered as they approached, keeping themself cloaked.

The bird squeaked and shot to attention.

“Ah! Ahm… h-hello?”

“Don’t freak out. I’m here to help. My name’s Lux. Have you heard of me? Or the Vigil?”

“The Vigil…?” the bird visibly relaxed. “Yeah, yeah, cool. I’m F-flint.”

“Okay, Flint,” Lux said. “I’m going to reveal myself now.” They gradually de-cloaked, a good five feet away from Flint. The bird’s green plumage puffed up for a moment, but they seemed like they were calming down.

“Do you know where you are?” Lux asked.

“I’m… in a penthouse, I guess, I dunno…”

“You’re in the Pavo Royale… heard of that?”

“Uh… oh fuck. Yeah…. Shit.” Flint rubbed his temples with feathered fingers. “Yeah, the last thing I remember was… I was out lookin’ for marks, I saw this peacock out on the street in some kinda bathrobe lookin thing. I thought pickpocketing him would be easy… didn’t see his bodyguards though.”

“Oofh.” Lux hissed through their teeth. “Well, don’t worry, I’m not gonna arrest you for petty theft or anything. But I think we can help each other get out of here. Have you been anywhere outside of this penthouse?”

“I don’t… know. I just remember…” Flint’s gaze went unfocused, and his face relaxed. “Uh… the Boss…”

“Hey hey, focus!” Lux spoke sharply, and the bird stiffened and shook his head. “Don’t go back to sleep on me, ok?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just…”

“Take your time. Sorry. Want to sit down…?”

DING.

Lux wheeled around. The door was opening.

They hadn’t even heard the elevator move, they’d been so focused on helping out this poor guy…

As the door opened, a low, constant rumble issued forth from it. Kryk’s growl was a strange primal symphony. It came from deep in the throat, alien bone and flesh working in concert to create an otherworldly rolling sound. The predatory thrum of a big cat who’d caught its prey. Something softer and brassier, like a singing bowl. Something else, inaudible, but vibrating through the panda’s mind nonetheless.

Lux had heard it before. It had melted them before. And they could feel it melting them again.

It tapped into something primal and submissive inside them. Not fight, nor flight, nor freeze… but follow. They had to accept something inevitable, offer themself up to something superior, something powerful.

They remembered being at Kryk’s mercy again. The glimmer of her eyes. The texture and taste of her scaly flesh. Her teeth prodded just enough to draw blood. Her venom, sweet and effervescent.

They were still a little in love with her. More than a little. They couldn’t stop themself. Their instincts pulled them towards lust, leashed to her animal magnetism. They were in a thick, estrus-like haze, nothing more than a plaything, a mate…

Her black and pink scales came into view. She was wagging her tail from side to side. Her eyes were pulsing orange and yellow, and they had an empty, guileless look about them.

That wasn’t right. That didn’t match the image in Lux’s horny mind.

The incongruity brought their hindbrain in check, pulling them back to reality as their consciousness took control again.

“Thanks, but no thanks…!” Lux cloaked themself once again, taking a moment to get their bearings. A tight narrow hallway. It’d be difficult to sneak by. But as long as they could lose Kryk, or misdirect them, maybe with a little flash of light in the corner of her vision… it’d be enough time to bolt in the other direction.

DING.

The elevator doors were opening behind them again.. Lux flicked out a quick rainbow-flashbang with a twist of their wrist, and took off to run towards the penthouse.

“Flint, hide, qui-GK!”

The neck of Lux’s turtleneck suddenly compressed inwards, choking Lux. Then it pulled upwards, as if an invisible hand had grabbed Lux by the scruff of the neck, and lifted them into the air, before pulling them - hard - back towards the elevator, towards Kryk.

As they flew and revolved, Lux caught a glimpse of green scales and dishevelled clothes. They were pulled towards the shape, and found themself very well acquainted with Grassroot’s knee.

As their nose burned and their head rang, Lux was twisted through the air. The snake’s particular brand of fabric-based telekinesis had caught them off guard, and vertigo had taken hold of them.

Then they were bathed in darkness. Warm, wet darkness. Just their head at first. A wet rough piece of flesh, like a sentient piece of steak, lathered along their face, pushed into their mouth. The antivenom was still working. But Lux had a weakness for kissing at the best of times. And Kryk’s grooming canine kisses felt incredible.

Kryk slurped and pulled, and the top half of Lux’s body was in the creature’s mouth, the sharp teeth biting into the panda’s soft stomach. Not quite enough to break the skin… but it wouldn’t take much to do that.

Lux braced for the end.

The sharp whistle somehow penetrated through the raptor’s maw - Lux heard it too.

“Drop it!”

Lux slid free, still sopping wet.

“Kryk, what…”

Lux looked up, still dazed, and the upside-down image made their heart sink.

They recognized three of the approaching foot-falls. One was Geek’s pink-scaled feet. Another pair was Grassroot’s. The one they didn’t recognize was grey-blue ankles stuffed into tight leather shoes.

“Flint…. run!” Lux choked, trying to turn their neck to get a glimpse of the would-be escapee.

But he was standing stock still.

“What…?”

Lux managed to roll onto all fours, their saliva-soaked hands squelching against the floor. They felt Kryk looming over them, and watched helplessly as the other approached.

As they looked at Flint, he seemed to dissolve, like candle wax evaporating in timelapse. As that plumage melted, so did the rest of him. His body shrunk and widened, his loincloth and clothes melting away and replaced with a black bodysuit.

His tail feathers twisted together, too, and began to form a long, red-and-white striped tail.

The beak became a squat muzzle, and a domino mask formed over the eyes.

Lux stared back at a carbon copy of themself. Their mouth went dry and their heart began to thump.

“Hello, Lux.” The copied panda said, their voice cold and emotionless yet with the faintest hint of satisfaction.

Lux’s voice sounded so wrong when it came from another source. It felt alien, and it made the panda squirm with misophonic revulsion.

“What the fuck…? What… what are you?”

“I am a Doll,” the other-Lux said, almost sounding offended by the question. “Come with us, please.”

Lux had no choice. Kryk scooped them up by the scruff of their suit and they dangled, limp and dazed… trying to conserve their energy for a last minute escape.

As they watched, their doppelganger’s form changed again - sloughed away until it was a dark, featureless shape. Like a mannequin doll a painter would use for reference, covered in shining lacquer.

Lux’s heart sank deeper as they began to realise how hopeless this whole thing had been.

They searched the impassive mannequin’s flat face for some sympathy, any spark of life…

But they couldn’t see any.

CHAPTER 7

THE DOLL

The Doll was a human once.

The Boss had told it as such, and the Doll knew the Boss knew all.

The Doll also had an innate sense of that past self.

Plantigrade feet did not feel better or worse than any other guise - the Doll does not feel - but the Doll felt a particular muscle memory with that particular gait.

There were ghosts of memory too. Implants within the mind allowed it to create dossiers, lashed together from every single footprint they left on the web.

It was through this research that it found its old self.

Perhaps it was their old self.

JAKE, 32

He/They

_Psychologist by day, amateur mixologist by night. Tell me your fave cocktail, I’ll try and make it! I also do improv, but I won’t force you to watch me. ;p _

Last online - 1 year ago

Account marked for deletion

Improv. Improvisation. Improvisational Theatre. Acting. Performance.

Perhaps that is why the Doll is able to adapt. Perhaps that is part of why it was selected. Why it is now a Doll.

All of the Doll’s forms feel alien in a sense - the bodies it wears are never its own. They are always someone else’s.

Jake 32 he/they feels less alien. When The Doll examines Jake 32 he/they, It feels pangs of recognition.

It pulls at the Doll’s core, tugs like an insistent child. Reminds It that a part of that being still exists somewhere inside.

The Doll wonders, sometimes, if it could slip back into that old self again.

Once or twice, it has tried.

It examines the images, posed, candid. It attempts to recreate them, with one of the mirrors aligned in its pen.

When it starts to shift, though, when it feels that new skin emerge over its frame - the changing centre of mass, the plantigrade feet, the itch of barely visible stubble -

Stop stop stop STOP STOP

It stops. It is too painful, too close, like picking at a scar until it bleeds.

It remembers bleeding, what that felt like. The heat and sting. A faint ghost like the other parts of Jake 32 he/they that haunt hidden crevices deep inside the Doll. The roots of a weed, not quite fully destroyed and therefore able to grow again.

It has not told the Boss of the root.

It wants to see if that part will grow. If more of Jake 32 he/they might bloom from it.

For now, it settles for taking on the forms of others.

But it never is truly a he, or a she, or a they, always an it, merely performing the pronoun but never truly owning it.

There is enjoyment to be had in inhabiting. Exhilaration at leaving the self behind, at examining the mind and body of another and taking on its qualities.

Improv. Performance. Acting.

Jake 32 he/they did enjoy that.

Jake 32 he/they wrote character biographies and practised characters before shows. He/they derived enjoyment.

The Doll takes that little part of Jake 32 he/they to derive a similar feeling.

The one secret emotion it is allowing itself, without the Boss knowing.

What the Boss does not know will not hurt him.

It slowly sheds that first disguise, the skin and fabric subsuming back into its frame. It is nullified, for lack of a better word. Its body - more like its core - roils and bubbles subtly, like water on the verge of boiling, not that one would be able to see.

The driver was a useful role to inhabit. Drivers concentrate on the road. But drivers listen.

The driver took in the “banter” from the intruders, and pretended not to.

The Doll imagined what this driver would do from here, if he was here, driving, and not unconscious at home with an unfinished whiskey-and-barbiturate cocktail by his side.

He might have taken the money and asked no further questions. Maybe he’d have called his mother and asked if he could treat her to dinner.

But that’s not what is happening. The Doll has done it all. The thought experiment melts with the rest of the driver’s form, deep into the tar-treacle simmer.

It is from these depths that the next guise emerges.

Fur, and latex, and a coating of linen and cotton over that. It has never met Enrapture outside of dossiers or recordings of his work. He is a very easy character to inhabit. He wears his desires on his chest, and an ego like a balloon - enormous and fragile. So many tabloid articles, online interviews, and interminable films make a fully embodied personality an ease to create.

Who : Supervillain and Arch Nemesis

Where : Casino.

What : Gambling and Flirting.

Secret Objective : support the dealer.

Doll cannot mimick Enrapture’s hypnotic abilities directly - there are limits to the Doll’s skills. But there is no need for those skills here. Its goal is to support the staff in subduing the intruder known as Grassroot.

Flirting comes easily to the Doll. It has seduced many in the past in this way.

It knew this all from its research, facts and figures memorised days out from the ‘infiltration’. Previous history between Elias and Riley. A near-miss where they came very close to a carnal relationship. Lingering attraction. Rivalry. All easy things to exploit.

Those looks the snake gave the Doll…

There was anger, frustration, but lust, too.

The Doll normally blended in. It would pass unnoticed, another face in the crowd. But every so often, its form was perceived.

Grassroot’s eyes undressed ‘Enrapture’ at any possible opportunity.

He was very attractive, objectively so.

If the Doll wanted for anything, it might have wanted to take the snake for itself, to continue the guise as Enrapture, and give Grassroot what he craved in return for his lithe scales.

But the Doll did not want for anything.

…Did it?

A whisper of longing was in there. Someone who wished someone would look at him that way. An attraction to that hero that might have been in place before the change.

Hard to say. The Doll did not interrogate those questions.

Sterlingburg’s got that whole ‘sleazy hypno’ reputation, but it’s not a bad place to be. I’ve done okay so far. I’m paying off my student loans and the food’s pretty good. Riley Flamewill has a place out here, i’ve met him on nights out! He’s always down for a selfie!

Visit for a week, see what you think!

What field do you work in? Lots of work for psych majors. I should know. ;p

-zhajablast, comment on forum thread on ‘Whats Sterlingsburg’s deal?”

… sometimes It did look into small things.

Every form it took had a little reminder of Jake 32 he/they.

It could hear its former self’s tone of voice with each new role, subtle, so faint that one would have to strain to spot the impression.

Tonight, Doll spotted a familiar sensation when it took on a petite form, a waifish waitress who blended into the crowd and followed that slight shimmering shape, the telltale sign of a cloaked panda.

Jake 32 he/they moved like this at home. Light, quiet footsteps to avoid the ire of neighbours - what were neighbours? Words that the Doll only partially understood, concepts that it had been told not to ponder, but did anyway. The Boss could not read the Doll’s mind.

The panda was the easiest one to corner. The least capable in a direct fight, the one most likely to fold. The look on their face in the dossier suggested to the Doll that they might be quicker to be fooled into trusting someone they shouldn’t. But the others were a higher threat.

The Doll slid out of the waitress form, into a new one.

Upon the Raptor’s capture, the Doll’s next form was clear.

The Doll cannot copy the raptor’s vicious strength, only her look. But that will be enough to throw Lux off the scent, especially since the real one is already subjugated.

The Doll takes its time studying the raptor. As the Doll transforms, the raptor stares. She growls and drools. Overcome with something. Self-absorbed lust. Maybe just dog-brain.

The Doll understands that absorbing more of those sounds would make for a better performance. It studies the noises. It coaxes out more of them with stroking claws and questing tongue. Into the mouth to study the tensility and tension of the throat. The vibrations of the vocal folds as she barks and moans.

The Doll recreates all of this when it ‘saves’ Lux in the pantry.

The raptor would have torn the other, lower servants to shreds. The Doll can’t recreate that strength, nor would it.

The Doll can recreate flirtatious qualities, seducing Lux using words that seem appropriate to the cadence of the raptor’s growl.

The Doll pushes a raptor-claw down onto Lux’s face, teasing and coaxing out what they know of the rest of the plan.

There’s a little bit of Jake 32 he/they’s charm in the way they cajole the panda. The Doll recalls using phrases to talk to Dates. Dates being another taboo, a subject not to remember. But one the Doll has pondered more and more.

“Yeah, I haven’t been hypnotised yet - or if I have, I don’t remember. I’ve missed a few opportunities though, this one time I was at a bar with my improv troupe - we’d just finished our show, I had a headache so I didn’t stick around for drinks after. And literally just after I left, The Spin-Doctor stepped in and turned the whole bar into a mini carnival deal. My troupemates were talking like carnies for a solid week after. He got his hooks in deep. But yeah. What about you? Have you been here long?”

Sometimes the Doll remembers more than posts. It remembers conversations Jake 32 he/they had. Dates, interviews, things. Shy but with an understanding of psychology. The secret tricks of the brain - not controlling the mind, but ways to massage and and tweak.

An understanding that perhaps drew the Boss to take notice of Jake 32 he/they -

-yes.

Jake 32 he/they was leaving. Or returning. Research fresh in the mind. Procedure. Mapping. Re-writing. To treat something. Fix. Dementia? Damage?

Heal the mind. Elongate the span. World changing stuff in the right hands.

Sudden prick, back of neck, swimming thoughts, head against concrete floor.

Walking in cold dark. Someone before or behind. Firm hand around the mouth, chemical smell. Darkness. Waking to fluorescent buzz, sterile hospital smell, arms and legs bound in cold steel.

“Your…

“... is quite something…

“...use it on…”

Screens. Needles. Gas. Fluids. Changing. Bubbling. Melting. Congealing. Freezing.

All the while, pain.

All the while, pressure.

Losing More.

Becoming Less.

Shedding He/They and becoming It.

More Procedures. Familiar but untested on the mind, alien and terrifying to the body.

Atoms rearranged. Pain mixed with pleasure, one cancelling the other out.

Introducing void.

More and more void. The scaffolding that sustained Jake 32 he/they fell away into an abyss, burned away by the peacock’s power.

But there was one tiny little outpost.

One piece remained.

A tiny vestige, somehow missed by the thorough cleaning and scrubbing.

The Doll kept it - kept Jake 32 he/they safe there.

A little almost-dead weed, kept alive, to see if it might grow again.

It is easy to protect it, particularly when the Boss does not speak to the Doll aside from issuing orders.

For instance, when the Boss has the Doll learn new personas, taken from other mooks, newer recruits.

The Doll stares at the green bird’s face, watches his lazy eyes whirl and pulse with the Boss’ colours. His docile beak is open wide, tongue lathing along wriggling toes, cigar perched in the corner of his mouth and filling his skull with it.

“Tell me again,” the Doll says, “How you met the Boss.”

The bird speaks slowly, sleepily, through a mouthful of toes. But it’s a simple pick-pocketing gone wrong, easy to remember.

The Doll uses this as inspiration, to seem guileless and dazed when the red panda comes across it in disguise.

The panda is easy to manipulate, very altruistic. The Doll buys time for the others to capture him. Perhaps the easiest part of the night’s work.

Sometimes, unbeknownst to all, the Doll would speak - not to itself, but not to no one.

As the form of ‘Flint’ melts away, as the red panda stares, confused and lost, The Doll checks in.

“What does Jake think?” it would ask. It would be heard, but it would not receive a response.

“Being the Boss feels wrong,” the Doll muses to itself, and to Jake. “You would not find this enjoyable, would you. You don’t like him. You don’t want to be here with him. You want to escape.”

No response. But acknowledgement must be there.

“Maybe someday we will. But you may enjoy the ride.”

The Boss still does not suspect.

The Doll is loyal, after all.

The Doll is what the Boss wants it to be.

For now.

The final chapter will be posted at the end of May. The full story can be read right now over on my Subscribestar! www.subscribestar.adult/limewah Preview of Chapter 8 Below…

“Sterlingsburg is a lovely place, but it could be even better. There’s simply too much going on! Too many clubs, too many distractions. Why, if I were a tourist I’d have no idea where to start to enjoy a night of hedonistic pleasure! That sort of analysis paralysis will be a thing of the past. Once every other would-be mastermind in the city is under my control, there’ll be only one game in town. My game. The city council will be more than happy to let me re-zone a building, or two, or ten, until the Pavo Royale swallows this whole city whole!”

Gerrark closed his eyes and pictured it. Every single old eyesore, every tacky shop, every tourist trap selling awful trinkets… gone. Replaced with a sea of neon, smoke pouring from each and every window… and every single one of them serving him with amber gleaming eyes.

“And then what?” Lux asked. “The world?”

“Hm?” Gerrark crooked his head to the side. He didn’t quite like their tone of voice. “No no, I’m perfectly satisfied with taking this city over, and being left to my own devices.”

“People like you are never satisfied,” Lux said. “You’re going to keep trying to expand, get more thralls, more influence, but it’s never going to be enough to fill that emptiness inside you. And you will get stopped.”

“THERE it is!” Gerrark cackled with delight, kicking up one of his legs before placing his foot directly on top of Lux’s head. “You adorable little thing… you know, if you hadn’t screwed up your point by throwing that in, you might have actually offended me a little.”

Gerrark let his voice drop down lower, into a seductive, threatening snarl.

“If you did offend me, you’d really be fucked, little wah.”

There was a flash of fear in the panda’s eyes, amidst the gradually spreading glow of Gerrark’s influence.

Fear… and arousal. Oh, this little thing was going to be ruined before long.

“But don’t worry, I’ll give you an opportunity to get in my good books.”

Gerrark raised his right foot up towards the panda’s face, and splayed his talons wide. He could see Lux was balking slightly as the aroma of his feet hit their nostrils. His toes were scented with a little bit of musk, and a dash of peppery cologne, guaranteed to pickle the brains quicker than a shot of vodka.

Their jaw tensed, their eyes watered, and the rings of colour flowed more freely.

Gerrark rotated his ankle to let his toes brush down the cushioned jawline of the wah’s pudgy face, and pushed up on their chin, to guide them to lock eyes with him.

“Let me look at you…”

He was going to drown this soft-minded little wah-cub and have his way.

Keeping that hypnotic gaze at bay was honestly more effort for the Gerrark than it was to simply let it loose. Dominating was as natural to him as breathing. And as the rings of sunlight and honey began to flow, that glow in the depths of the ringtail’s eyes grew stronger. Their face relaxed, their body started to sag… and they closed their eyes tight, pulling against the chains. Inu tugged sharply, pulling Lux upright and even lifting their knees off the floor.

“You don’t want me to look at you?” Gerrark tutted. “That’s not a good start…”

“I’ll look at you, Boss!” Grassroot chirped, enthusiastically inter-posing himself between the Boss and his new recruit.

Gerrark rolled his eyes, and grabbed Grassroot’s face. The blue peacock pressed his forehead to the green snake’s, those strobing colours moving at a warp-speed pace as they became the only thing the former hero could see.

“Fine, drink your fill.”

Gerrark had learned, quite by accident, how powerful his stare could be. The pleasure he could bring was quite literally heart stopping. Too much stimulation from those hypnotic rings could burn out an amygdala in no time flat.

He wasn’t going to do that here. But the solid three seconds he spent digging straight into the snake-boy’s soul would put his annoying eagerness to rest for a moment or two.

“Ahhhgnnh…!” Grassroot moaned embarrassingly, his limbs twisting and his eyelids fluttering. He choked and gasped, unable to tear his eyes away from Gerrark’s.

Fuck, Gerrark loved this.

He opened his eyes a little wider, flashed one more bright burst, and the snake shot up straight as an arrow, grinning a wide toothy smile with his hands down by his side. He was just a few braincells above catatonic, completely still, completely blank. He was little better than a piece of furniture now.