DezzieArts

The 302nd Shift: Uncamping Trip Pt 3 Darkness was descending by the time the trio returned to the cabin. Parking on the shore to allow her passengers to disembark Brielle switched on the temporary vacation home’s lights. With the pair safely on dry land she transformed into a goose, swimming the short distance to follow. Alyana looked her way, eyebrow raised. “Mirrors and a couple of halogen lamps,” Brielle commented as she waddled by, anticipating her friend’s question. Flutter hopping onto the deck she began morphing, exchanging webbed feet for casters and grey feathers for mahogany-stained grain as she enlarged. Settling as a modest kitchen island she parked near the cabinets. Pseudopods emerged from each corner of her faux woodblock top. Three opened into hands while the fourth carried her head. “Shall we get started on dinner?” Brielle had spent quite a bit of time researching what foods to bring, trying to balance Alyana and Krystal’s preferences and favourites with the

The 301st Shift: Uncamping Trip Pt 2 Guised as a fox deep in the forest about a kilometre away Brielle sensed Krystal waking. Following the pull of her larger self she sprinted for the cabin. Bursting from the underbrush she dove for the artificial structure’s back wall. Hitting the faux red cedar siding with a goopy splash she merged with the temporary vacation home. Expanding her awareness throughout the two-bedroom cabin she could feel Alyana stirring as well. Unsure what her guests may do next she made a careful check of the assorted connections to the bevy of electrical devices embedded within her walls. Outside she finished filling the large tank. Unlike a typical filtration system hers consisted of a dozen tentacles languidly sweeping through water sucked from the nearby stream. Tossing her blanket onto the sofa’s backrest Krystal stretched. “Mmm… I really needed that.” Brielle’s human body molded out of the wall behind the sofa. “Glad you had a good nap,” she said, leaning

The 300th Shift: Uncamping Trip Pt 1 “Are we there yet?” Alyana asked, trying not to let her tone sound like a whine. She ducked slightly as the chestnut Clydesdale she was riding passed under a low-hanging branch. Between the three-hour drive and the two-hour hike her backside was starting to complain. “Brielle promises we’ll be there in less than ten minutes,” Krystal called from atop her own brown and white speckled Clydesdale a few metres ahead. True to her word eight minutes later they emerged from the forest into a large clearing. “Oh wow,” Alyana breathed. The scene was idyllic. Overlooking a small river the area was a patchwork of early-blooming wildflowers poking through fallen leaves and wild grass. Stepping into the glade sunlight dispelled the perennial chill cast by the dense canopy. Tamping her sense of wonder Alyana commented, “It’s very beautiful, but I was promised a ‘no camping’ camping trip.” “And I always keep my promises,” her horse replied, turning to face

The 299th Shift: Plots & Invitations Finished with his business at a urinal in the otherwise empty row one of Macak’s security personnel headed for the sinks. A man in a lab coat entered the bathroom, the two exchanging a subtle nod as they passed. Once the tech completed his own business he stopped by the line of sinks. “Rumour is you’re going to be out of a job soon,” the tech said, grinning at the guard’s reflection. “How’s that?” the guard replied, an eyebrow raised in confusion. “Scuttlebutt says the Senior Researchers are pressuring Duncan to transfer those murderers to their facility.” The toilet in a stall on the far side flushed, the top of the occupant’s head visible over the divider. Othmar stepped out, dark eyes fixed forward. He didn’t look at either man as he washed his hands, but both reflexively backed away. Without a word he exited the bathroom. The guard glared at the tech before hastily following. Five floors above Greta glanced at the entrance to Duncan’s

The 298thShift: Campsite Swooping low a robin landed on the lowest branch of the tree Krystal had leaned against. Finished with another sweep to confirm no one was around Brielle shifted into a squirrel, scampering down the trunk. Reaching the ground she reshaped into a fox. She’d spent enough time in the woods to know which forms to take to best navigate the forest and to avoid being targeted by predators. Poking her nose in the tent to check on Krystal she sealed the flap, ensuring no one or no thing could get inside. While the material looked like nylon it was as hard as iron. It was by no means indestructible, but more than enough to thwart any effort to cause her fiancée harm. The only points of real weakness were the pair of mesh vents concealed under the domed overhang on each side. Feeling confident in Krystal’s safety she padded to the creek, lapping the icy clear water. She hadn’t been entirely honest with her fiancée about her previous visits to the tranquil vista. Of

Rather than juggle the security nightmare of touring PolyBelle to interviews with the carefully selected and thoroughly vetted journalists and influencers they were brought to her. The ultra-secure set was as tastefully patriotic as her costume—festooned with one of the country’s flags artfully draped on a pole behind her seat leaving no doubt to her loyalties. “And that’s all the time we have for today folks,” the man seated across from PolyBelle spoke into the camera. Staying in her chair the superhero extended her right arm across the two metre gap to shake his hand. “We’re clear,” a voice called from the film crew. PolyBelle stood. Glad to be finished with the last interview of a very long day she lifted both arms overhead. Stretching her entire body she gained an extra metre in height. “Amazing,” the man mumbled in awe. His gaze wandered to her prodigious pillows which remained at their impressive size even as the rest of her figure narrowed noticeably. Smirking PolyBelle

The 297th Shift: Centauride Touching her encased abdomen Krystal admired the silky soft golden coat. Long platinum blonde hair cascaded into her peripheral vision. Twisting at the waist she confirmed what her malleable fiancée had done. A draping horse’s tail the same shade as her hair swished from side to side, ungulate hind legs flexing one then the other. Running her hands over the seamless transition from her still human flesh to the Palomino addition she marveled at how perfect it looked. Experimentally taking a step she raised an eyebrow as her opposite butt cheek wobbled. Checking if the matching hind leg had moved she took another step, again the opposing cheek wobbling. Taking one more step with the same result confirmed her suspicion, the sensations were Brielle’s way of communicating her movement—a silent reassurance she quite literally had her back. Confidently strolling to the living room mirror she loved the sound of her four hooves clopping on the hardwood. To her

The 295th Shift: Rainy End Course after course Krystal consistently won. Brielle knew she could easily cheat. A miniscule change in the turf. A slight shift in the ball’s center of gravity. She could surreptitiously navigate her own ball or perfectly mimic her fiancée’s shots. None of those appealed to her. If she couldn’t earn a legitimate win she’d rather lose with grace. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Checking her phone the forecast had been updated, the afternoon rain arriving much sooner than predicted. “Sounds like we may have to call it,” Krystal commented, scanning the sky in the direction of the thunder. “You’re not getting off that easy,” Brielle smirked. Snapping her fingers several pairs of columns emerged on either side of the course, goopy strands spanning their peaks. The drooping ropes expanded, merging into a taut canopy. “Tada!” “Very nice, Sweetie.” A few minutes later Brielle felt sporadic drops hit her covering. Not long after the rain increased to a