Chapter 47: Scene 41 – EGTSWALE, P. I’[email protected]

Dr. Bright pulled on his rubber gloves with a snap, glancing toward the tall Egyptian woman sitting on the operation table. She was in a daze, curiously poking about the tray of instruments on the table beside her. Dr. Bright tried not to focus on Calico, as much as she'd earned the attention, because he was still wary about her powers. Calico had a persuasive tone; it came with her Concept as the [Witch Queen]. One look into her eyes, and you'd be hypnotized.

Calico had once explained how the power worked; how a part of someone always yearned for freedom, and she could tap into that yearning and influence the target of her spell. A few short words and they'd be dancing to her tune, puppets loosely strung by the yarn that made up her flesh. Dr. Bright knew that his desires were too great, his yearning for freedom infinitely greater than he could imagine. The shackles that society had placed upon him...

The good doctor glanced at his reflection in a mirror. Sparkling blue irises that held a sea of stars. Stubble he'd painstakingly grafted to his chin, a slender waist, and toned, muscular shoulders. The bags under his eyes wouldn't go away; he'd spent too many sleepless nights working on his next invention. He felt through his hair, braiding his dreadlocks and turning back to the woman of the hour.

"Alright, Calico. I need you to open your mouth wide. Just say 'Ah.'" Dr. Bright grasped a tongue depressant and flashlight, tightening the rope around his belt. The safety rope was anchored to the wall; you could never be too safe when performing dentistry on a Neverlander. Unintuitively cavernous maws, innumerable rows of teeth, pocket dimensions underneath their tongue; you couldn't be sure what talents they'd picked up while you weren't looking. Best to be safe.

"...of course." Calico purred, opening her lips and letting her tongue hang loose. It was sandpapery, much like a real cat, and long enough to be intentionally devious in purpose. "Ith thith really nethethary?"

"I'm identifying you by your canines..." Dr. Bright glanced inside, tugging at Calico's lips with the depressant and shining a Bright inside. "A rather clever human figured out that the shape of your teeth could be used to identify you, especially if your bite was unusual..."

"Oh, wow. Thath verrry clever." Calico kept her mouth open wide, although she couldn't stop herself from licking the depressant. The cold of the metal made her feel woozy. "Wath thith medal made of?"

"Cold iron. It disables the powers of fae like yourself." Dr. Bright paused his examination, reaching for a clipboard and setting his tools aside. "Once again, all signs point towards your being Calico Dearheart. I should run a few more tests to be sure."

"I don't know who that is, Doctor." Calico manipulated her jaw, trying to get the taste of steel out of her mouth. "But I cannot remember anything else; you might be right. That may be my name."

"Might be." Dr. Bright wasn't so confident. "Or you might be a Neverlander designed to look like Calico Dearheart. It wouldn't be the first time. We've taken note of the Narrative Awareness System's hobby of designing Chronicle Spirits: puppets that look and act exactly like the historical figure they're based on. The only problem with that theory is that you lack memories."

"I truly do not understand what you just said." Calico blankly stared at the doctor, although Calico found that she could not meet his gaze no matter how much she tried.

"Precisely. The real Calico would know what I'm talking about. So that means one of three possibilities: you are some other kind of Neverlander, the Narrative Awareness System has been consuming anime lately, or you are Calico Dearheart with total amnesia." Dr. Bright finished his notes, setting the clipboard down.

"What do animation-eating machines have to do with my condition...?" Calico's ears twitched, and she turned towards the sound of approaching footsteps. A woman as bright as the sun was led by a fluffy grey cat-elf and a familiar droid. "Ah, the swearing woman and her friend are back. They look... different?"

"Stargarden Sol?" Dr. Bright's eyebrows rose, and his voice cracked. "Left your garden at last? Come to grace us with your presence?" He could feel his skin boiling and shifting as Sol approached, an exoskeleton popping out and into place around his arms. His limbs were black, radiation resistant, and barbed. The barbs were inconvenient, although the extra arms slipping out from beneath his shell seemed useful for the task at hand.

"Oh, ew. You look like a roach." Nebulossom Luna gasped, staring at Dr. Bright with her mouth wide open. The Moon had not raised either of their princesses with manners, it would seem.

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"Luna! Knock it off, ya prick!" Mercury gave the cat a bonk on her noggin. "He's sensitive 'bout tha'."

"I feel comfortable enough in my skin. It isn't my preference, but I can live with it. With that being said, I prefer my human form." Dr. Bright's voice took on an alien hum, his skin folding back and outwards as wings sprouted from his back. His abdomen thinned out and segmented itself, and he could feel his thorax growing the longer he was exposed to Sol's revealing nature. "If you leave your garden more often, stop by my office. I've wanted to perform biological surgery on myself for some time now."

"I'll... consider it, Dr. Bright." Sol felt nervous. "I know you're struggling with your... condition."

"I'm not. Nothing ever happens on Vulcan; the solar system doesn't even know we exist." Dr. Bright shook his head. "Mars has it much worse. Poor girl can't stand walking on her own planet."

"Oh. That's... problematic?" Nebulossom Sol sounded uncertain. "I chose her to represent Mars because she was the most recommended suggestion on the System's list..."

"You chose her based on the Narrative Awareness System's recommendations?" Dr. Bright stared incredulously at his boss, an irritated hum audible through his wings. "She rates magical warriors' suitability based on how much they've suffered. No wonder we spend more on psychiatric help and pharmaceuticals than our entire robotics department. You've picked the most mentally unstable candidates from the start."

Stargarden Sol flinched. Oh dear, oh no. What if she'd done something wrong? She just wanted to follow N/AS's instructions! She wouldn't want the goddess to think she was plotting a rebellion or to get angry at her. Oh no, she was in trouble, wasn't she? The goddess was no doubt furious as well; she'd be next on the chopping block if she didn't act quickly. Time to deflect!

"So, erm." Sol glanced at the woman on the operating table. "Calico Dearheart?"

Calico turned her head, tail and ears flicking with interest. "That is what everyone is calling me."

"That's you, then? Dearheart? Queen of the Witches? Enemy of the World?" Sol bit her thumb.

"I don't know about that last part." Calico frowned. "It would be silly to destroy the world. I live here."

"And you're certain your name is Calico Dearheart." Sol fidgeted in place, chewing mercilessly on her nail between thoughts. "Not some other name?"

"I wouldn't know." Calico shook her head and shrugged. "I do not remember a thing."

"It would be weird if you were her." Sol felt a knot in her throat, unsure how to approach this delicate subject. "Because Calico Dearheart is almost certainly dead."

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