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So it turns out that when you're a magical girl you can just... walk... from one city to another.
It's been a week and this novelty is showing no signs of getting old.
She's had a couple exciting moments so far, but has not yet actually gotten thoroughly enough lost that she couldn't find her way back to her apartment, and anyway her patron's ability to find her doesn't have any limits she's been able to detect, so she can't get into that much trouble out here... right?
Trouble is relative.
For example, here's a magical girl in a poofy golden raiment, perched on the 'curb' over the endless skylit void... at least from her angle. Her gravity is at a right angle to the path 'below' her, and she seems to be lost in thought.
Aww, that's pretty.
She pauses some distance away, wondering whether she's too socially anxious to say hi. She is probably too socially anxious to say hi. But maybe! She can think about it for a minute and see!
(She is not currently transformed, herself. There's something reassuringly familiar about a completely mundane T-shirt and jeans.)
Jill, carefully, casually, without outward sign she's noticed the girl, casts her mind-probe spell.
It comes down to a risk assessment. An unusually dangerous patron, but a week without contact suggests one that doesn't keep close tabs.
The girl is dithering. This is good. Gives Jill more time to weigh the risks. Patricia will be so disappointed in her if she fucks this up.
The girl's not transformed. That means no need to beat her in a fight to get her to dismiss her raiment. That's rare and unusual, for a magical girl wandering in the Crossroads. Major plus for taking her.
Wait, are those clothes real? Okay, maybe what's left of Jill's conscience is plaguing her lately. Objectively, this job is kind of fucked up. But this girl is practically asking for it. If Jill doesn't take her, probably something even worse will ambush her.
Jill waits for her moment.
Jill leaps. The transition in gravity pulls her exactly on course.
Splinter Daze comes out and plunges down.
The girl feels a hot prick on the back of her skull, and then nothing.
Scintilla wakes up in a dank but warm cave of purple-gray flesh, shot through with pulsing, glowing green veins.
She's naked, the fleshy floor firm but giving under her back. An eerie green radiance shines from outside the small alcove in which she is... glued to the floor. Hands and feet embedded in rubbery protrusions, holding her bare body spread-eagle for anyone who happens to walk in.
If she tries, she will find that her Style doesn't work at all. And if she tries, she will find that she cannot bring the words of her transformation aria to mind.
...progressing through the sequence of noticing these things takes her from very alarmed to extremely alarmed to REALLY EXCEPTIONALLY ALARMED.
There is movement, outside, shifts in the play of light. Sounds of ripples in water.
But for the moment, nobody (or thing) appears.
The Ebon Mint mercenaries have proven themselves once again. When this project began, Vreth had his doubts about involving the very sort of beings they sought to exploit, but the ensouled woman and her minions have proven themselves vicious and efficient.
It is still early in the breeding project, Vreth has scarce few minions capable of leaving the Elder's lake. But eventually he gets back around to checking on the new womb. She's awake.
He steps into the alcove.
His body is grayish purple, with faint green veins underneath, kind of like the walls of this place. Unlike the walls, Vreth is healthy even to mortal eyes. He's sleek, symmetrical, with two lean legs, four smoothly muscled arms, and a tail. Two pits, nothing like eyes, burn vibrant green on his face, which splits into five downward tentacles. His torso is almost human, and gorgeously masculine, the kind of chiseled perfection rarely seen outside artistic exaggerations of the human form, though there is a horizontal crease through the middle of his pectorals, to match the four arms.
He is obviously entirely nude. Two thick, meaty dicks hang from his smooth crotch, one above the other, each as gorgeously perfect an exaggeration of the human penis as his chest.
Powerful thighs blend into inhuman legs with clawed feet. His tail swishes behind him, thin, nimble, with an odd clear bell-tip, like a flower made of cellophane.
AS A RESULT OF THIS NEW INFORMATION, ALARM LEVELS HAVE INCREASED CONSIDERABLY.
Perhaps she should try to ask him what's going on, or something of that nature. Instead she just sort of squeaks.
Vreth drops into a low crouch between the new womb's legs. His tail curls over his hip and the clear bell flattens out as he places it over her abdomen. Nothing detectable seem to happen after that, just the soft transparent material against her skin.
It is somewhat hard to read Vreth's expression, when he barely has a face, but his tentacles writhe slowly, idly, like this is neither exciting nor tedious.
She wiggles. This is, predictably, futile. She stops wiggling.
Plaintively, without much hope of an answer: "...what is going on?"
This is actually the first time he's been asked a direct question by one of the captured wombs. He sees no reason to answer her question, but doing so would be novel, at least.
Vreth's voice is a low, silky hiss as he narrates, without any particular care if the womb understands.
"Hhhh uterine phase is non-cyclic, as with the others. Robust. The soul provides. Useful. It will serve our needs well, with only minor adaptation."
every single thing about this situation is more alarming than the last
Vreth removes his tail from her belly and stands. His clawed feet brush the edges of her breasts as he stands above her. His tail-bell swings over her head, and starts drooling some kind of slime into her hair.
"Even if the mortal body could endure, the mortal brain is unsustainably fragile. Unlike the ensouled. So conveniently reusable."
Wow. "Being a magical girl is considerably more hazardous than advertised," she mutters, mostly to herself.
"You will survive. That is the point. No other thing you might be, would."
The slime soaks down to her scalp, and starts hardening like resin. Much like the glue trapping her hands and feet.
"This honestly does not seem like the kind of situation where immortality is a perk from my perspective!"
"Your perspective is irrelevant."
He crouches down to prod at the setting resin covering her hair. This rather puts his dangling cocks in her face, flopping against her cheek and neck, simply because Vreth does not bother to prevent it.
She tries to move away, which doesn't work; considers biting him, decides that there's no scenario where that ends well for her; sighs.
"When I get out of here I'm gonna retire."
"It is foolish of you to expect you will leave. Our use of you will not diminish with time."
"I'm not especially hopeful, to be clear. But forever's always longer than you think. Eventually something happens other than the things that have been happening before."
Vreth's tentacles twitch in what could be amusement.
"For example, this." He gestures at their surroundings. "Your previous purpose have been superseded by this purpose."
Vreth stands again and moves to leave the alcove.
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