Capes and Cuisines: Regirth (NEW CHAPTER ADDED 1/17/2022)

[Batman76]

Love the total descent into gluttony here, I always love infectious weight gain, especially with some one manipulating it. I'm kind of hoping they get stuck on earth due to the elf losing her powers to obesity.

 

Is it wrong I hope Catalina actually slims down a bit?

[Cyril Figgis]

32 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Love the total descent into gluttony here, I always love infectious weight gain, especially with some one manipulating it. I'm kind of hoping they get stuck on earth due to the elf losing her powers to obesity.

 

Is it wrong I hope Catalina actually slims down a bit?

They just might, assuming that won't infringe on the copyright of a certain manga.  And Catalina will definitely slim back down at some point--after all, that makes her gaining it all back even better.

[Cyril Figgis]

THE CUNNING COYOTE, PART 1

To say that Deborah Rose had led an eventful life would be an understatement.  Growing up on a reserve with her grandparents, she fought for everything she had and pushed herself to be the best.  She managed to work her way up to a scholarship at Megalopolis University, and during her time there, went overseas to study medicine in France.  After graduating magna cum laude, Deborah returned to her roots and worked at a non-profit clinic in her old reservation.  That would be enough for any one person, but that was only the beginning of her secret origin.

Everything changed when Dr. Bryce Delaney joined the clinic.  He was a swarthy charmer who had a gift of gab and a silver tongue to match; it was a trait that won him over with patients and staff alike, except for Deborah.  She found his constant japes to be tiring, his lackadaisical approach to life frustrating, and his sweettalking to be irritating to no end.  It took a few years before she came around to him, but one thing that still bothered her about Bryce was how he often disappeared throughout the day and showed up late.  No one else paid it much mind, but it drove Deborah crazy wondering what he could be up to that took him from the clinic he claimed to love so much.

One day, she took a chance and followed Bryce from a distance after he left the clinic in a hurry, as usual.  The inquisitive woman tailed her boss out to the desert and watched him undergo a radical transformation from an ordinary man to a mythological figure.  When Bryce put on a pair of yellow sunglasses, he grew taller, broader, and more muscular while his scrubs changed into fur-lined leather armor.  A helmet in the shape of a coyote’s head covered the top half of his face, leaving only his lantern jaw exposed beneath.  In an instant, Deborah discovered that her coworker was none other than Coyote, the legendary trickster and current protector of Earth.

Ever since that fateful day, she had accompanied Bryce on countless adventures across time and space in his never-ending efforts to keep people safe.  They faced foes of all kinds, from vengeful gods to sinister demons to mortals who dabbled in dark arts, but they always persevered.  Through it all, the two remained close partners, with Deborah serving as Bryce’s confidant and aide in battle, even attending gatherings of other gods.  She was there when he joined the Protectors, when he went on a journey through Central America alongside Quetzalcoatl, and when he gave his life to stop Malsumis from consuming the world in brambles.

It was at the wake at the Protector Ranch when Deborah’s life took another turn for the unexpected.  She had excused herself from the well-wishers and mourners to have some time to herself and process everything that had happened.  There was always the thought that Bryce would never return from his duties one day, but she never thought that day would actually come.  Part of her wondered if this was one more trick of his; any minute now, he would slink in through the door and act like nothing had ever happened.

“Afraid the old dog’s not coming back this time, my dear,” an aged voice croaked.

Deborah glanced down the hall and spotted an elderly man propped up against the wall, smoking from a long pipe.  There were all sorts of eccentrics at the ceremony, given Bryce’s peers from every walk of life, and she would recognize this one from anywhere.  His craggy skin that made him look like a mummy, the crescent moon on his forehead, and the Pleaides above his right eye were unmistakable—all that was missing was the buckskin mask.

“Black God, what brings you here?” asked Deborah.  “What do you want?”

Black God took a long drag on his pipe before replying, “Am I not allowed to pay my respects to a comrade?  Coyote and I did not always get along, but I always respected him.”

That was hard for Deborah to believe.  When Bryce was still alive, he never saw eye to eye with the wizened Black God; he always attributed this to an incident where the two bickered over how constellations should be affixed in the cosmos, but no one knew the exact reason why.  Still, the elderly man was never outright antagonistic toward Coyote, especially when compared to some of the other deities that took offense to the trickster.

“Of course,” Debrah sighed as she leaned against the wall across from Black God.  “I’m sorry—it’s been a long couple of days.”

“I understand, child,” the ancient deity hummed, a cloud of acrid smoke escaping his craggy lips.  “Death is never easy to accept, even when it is expected.  The best we can do is celebrate the life of our friend and wish him well on his way.”

The two stood in silence for a moment, Black God puffing on his pipe while Deborah wrapped her arms around herself, before the elderly man spoke once again.  He croaked out, “I did come to bring you something though—something that Coyote meant for you to have.”

His withered hand reached into the confines of his robes and pulled out a familiar pair of golden sunglasses.  Deborah’s eyes grew wide as the moon as Black God handed her the mystical accessory, and she cradled it in her hand like a newborn baby.  She looked to the ancient deity and asked, “How…how did you find these?  I thought they were lost after Malsumis’ attack!”

“Not lost—taken by the other gods,” Black God explained.  “They wanted to seal away Coyote’s eyes, but that was not what our friend wanted.  He never much cared for the idea of the gods holding onto their gifts, so he wished for his eyes to remain on Earth where they might do some good.  But more than anything, he wanted you to have them, my dear.”

It took a moment for that to register in Deborah’s mind: that Bryce Delaney had entrusted her, of all people, with the powers of his godly alter-ego.  Despite accompanying him on his adventures for the last several years of their lives, she never would have thought herself worthy of such a responsibility.  There were countless others that would have been more deserving than her, like one of the other Protectors, so why would he have chosen her?

As if he could read her mind, Black God said, “I’m sure this comes as a great surprise, but Coyote never did anything without reason; if he chose you to take his place, then you proved yourself capable in his eyes.  And if I may say, I think that he chose right.”

“How do you mean?” asked Deborah when she finally found her tongue.  “I’m just an ordinary woman—shouldn’t this go to someone like Lady Liberty or the Brutess?”

The elderly man let out a cloud of smoke as he asked in turn, “Were you not the one who killed the Tsenahale when they returned with their Anaye brethren?  Did you not travel to the Caribbean and stand in defiance of Juracán, who would have ravaged the land with an all-mighty storm?  Did you not risk your life to save a group of children from the Piasa?  If ever there was a mortal who was worthy of godhood, it would be you, Deborah Rose.”

Deborah held the sunglasses up and gazed at her reflection in their tinted lenses.  Her hazel eyes were red and puffy from the tears she let out during her eulogy, and her short, dark hair seemed as lifeless and limp as the rest of her.  She did not have the athletic build of someone like Agent 75, nor was she lean like Jiao Hei; she found herself utterly average compared to the rest of her colleagues.  Modest height, untoned body, and a hint of middle-age spread below the waist added up to someone who felt very unheroic and undeserving.

But then, did she not think the same thing about Bryce when she first found out he was Coyote?  Back in those days, she had thought him to be little more than a lout who preferred to flirt his way through life and leave nothing but a trail of broken hearts.  There was no way someone like him could have been a superhero, yet he had proved her wrong time and again as he selflessly risked life and limb to keep the people of the world safe.  Perhaps this was his way of reminding her of that little lesson—that anyone could be a hero, no matter what they seemed like at first glance.

“Thank you, Black God,” Deborah replied as she hooked the sunglasses into the neckline of her dress.  “I don’t know if I’m ready, but if Bryce wanted me to carry on his legacy, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“There’s the Rose I know,” the ancient deity chuckled, his face crinkling as he smiled.  “Trust that spirit of yours, my dear, and you will accomplish wonders.”

Black God let out another more puff of smoke, one so thick that Deborah had to cover her eyes and close her mouth, and when she opened them again, he was gone.  She waved the last of the smoke away while she gagged on the foul odor that lingered, but she could not be mad at the elder.  After all, he had delivered the most important gift she had ever received—something that would not only take her life in another bold direction, but keep her fallen friend in her memory.

As Deborah touched the glasses at her neck, she whispered, “I promise, Bryce, I’m going to do you proud.  Just you wait and see.”

***

While Deborah Rose mourned the loss of Coyote, there was one stewing in the hidden lands of Agiochook, home of the gods—the sinister Lady Raven.  She had been one of Coyote’s greatest rivals in his life, vying for his role as the trickster among tricksters yet always coming up short in their confrontations.  The news of his death had inspired jubilation in her dark heart, and when she heard that his eyes had been brought to rest in Agiochook, her delight only increased.  Time and again, he had bested her thanks to the power granted him by those spectacles; now that she had access to those spectacles, there was no one that could stop her.

Or so she thought.  When Lady Raven ventured to the Hall of Treasures, where all sacred artifacts were kept safe, she discovered that Coyote’s eyes were missing from their pedestal.  The wicked woman searched high and low for any sign of them, but they were nowhere to be found in Agiochook.  She would have torn the divine apart had one of her pet birds not discovered evidence of who had taken them—ashes from a plant that only one deity smoked.

“Black God,” Lady Raven growled through gritted teeth.

Upon learning of the elder god’s thievery, the villainess called together a meeting of deities to inform them of the incident and pass judgment on their fellow ancient.  Black God was sent for when all had assembled, but they did not have to wait long—he came willingly, still smoking on his pipe as peaceful as can be.  Lady Raven gave him a scowl that had caused giants to shrink in fear, but the withered man merely bowed his head to her as he stood before the gathered gods.

“Black God, you are called before us and the Great Spirit because you stand accused of stealing Coyote’s eyes from Agiochook,” Tabaldak, the Stone Man, declared.  “How do you plead?”

“Guilty, Tabaldak,” the ancient deity answered to a chorus of murmurs.

The first to speak up was Wi, who glimmered with all the brilliance of the sun itself.  “This is a very serious charge, elder.  Why would you do such a thing?”

Black God let out a few smoke rings before explaining, “It was not as Coyote wanted.  He knew that his power was still needed on Earth, so he wanted his eyes passed along to the human he trusted the most.  It was not our place to keep them here.”

“When you say the human he trusted most, who do you mean?” asked Nanook, who stood tall as a Kodiak bear.  “We know many of Coyote’s allies on Earth, and there are many that would be worthy of taking his mantle.”

“They were bequeathed to the woman who was with him the most—Deborah Rose,” came Black God’s lackadaisical answer.

Another round of murmurs broke out among the gathered deities.  They were just as familiar with Deborah as any of the superheroes that worked alongside Coyote, and there were many who did not take kindly to this—chief among them being Lady Raven.  She had skulked in the shadows, watching and waiting for an answer, and when she finally received it, she was ready to tear the old man apart piece by piece.  How dare he give away Coyote’s eyes to someone as weak and pathetic as Deborah Rose?  She was a nobody in a world of nobodies!

“This is absurd!  Someone like Deborah Rose is unfit to be the heir to Coyote,” the obsidian goddess argued to the assemblage.  “Let me go down to Earth and take them from her before she makes a mess with them!”

“Hold on, Lady Raven,” Tabaldak told the lesser trickster.  “Coyote was wise and would never choose someone wrongly; if this be his will, then so be it.”

Nanook scoffed at the idea and stamped his foot down.  “I reject the notion!  The girl could not fight her way out of a paper bag, much less take on the challenges posed to a god.  Let Lady Raven take the eyes back and be done with it!”

The gods bickered amongst each other for some time, many siding with Tabaldak while others stood by Nanook.  It seemed that battle was imminent in the room before a terrific explosion of sound silenced the arguing deities.  The source of the noise was Black God, who had created a booming fireball at the expense of all the herbs in his pipe.

“Making me waste perfectly good tomacco,” the wizened old man grumbled as he refilled his pipe.  “Honestly, after millennia of coexisting, you’d think you lot would know better than to start a quarrel among each other when the answer is so simple.  If she is so unworthy, then why do we not test her to see if she measures up to Coyote?”

Wi nodded in agreement and stroked his chin.  “Black God makes a point.  Our annals are written with human champions proving their mettle; why not let Deborah Rose prove herself in a trial befitting of Coyote?”

The suggestion was met with a chorus of agreement, reluctant or otherwise.  Lady Raven seethed as the chance to easily snatch away Coyote’s eyes ran away from her.  She thought it would be as easy as stealing candy from a dead baby, but these fools were going to make it a challenge for her.  When she finally got her hands on the power of her fallen foe, she would make them all pay for this indignity—but first, she would need to do away with Deborah.

“We shall decide on a series of challenges for the woman,” Tabaldak decided.  “In the meantime, no one is to lay a hand on her or attempt to take the eyes.  When we reconvene, we will bring her here for her trial.”

“Black God, though you meant well in respecting Coyote’s wishes, you still stole from us.  You must set a hundred new stars in the sky as penance,” said Nanook to the old man.

“I thank the council for their wisdom and shall get right to work,” Black God replied and bowed to the assemblage before walking out of the chamber.

Lady Raven was quick to follow, vanishing in the shadows as the other gods discussed how best to test Deborah.  Her eyes were full of hate for the ancient Black God, and as she drew closer to him, razor-sharp talons sprang from her fingertips.  She leaped into the air like a wildcat and prepared to strike in fury, only for the elder to vanish in a puff of smoke and reappear out of her reach.

“Still such temper, Lady Raven,” the old man chuckled.  “Hardly becoming for such a beauty.”

“You damned fool!  Why would you take those eyes?  You know how much I coveted them—they are practically my right!” the dark-haired woman hissed.  “Since when have you ever respected Coyote’s wishes?  You even refused to see him off before he went to fight Malsumis!”

“Since I realized how much fun there could be in spreading such a lie,” Black God chortled.  A dark glean filled his eyes and his lips spread into a mirthless grin as he explained, “I neither know nor care who has the old dog’s eyes; were there something to gain from it, I would have cast them into the void as soon as I got my hands on them.”

Lady Raven cocked her head to the side in puzzlement.  “So, Deborah Rose is not Coyote’s chosen heir?  Then why go to all this trouble of stealing the eyes and lying to the council?”

“Because I wanted to get one last trick in while the mutt’s body was still fresh in the ground,” the craggy old man sneered, all but spitting the word ‘mutt’.  “I can be a trickster at times too, Lady Raven, and what better trick than disgracing Coyote’s memory?”

Who would have ever expected Black God to have such a mean streak in him?  It was almost enough for Lady Raven to see him in a new light.  Still, she asked, “Then what about Deborah Rose?  What should happen if she succeeds?”

“If she succeeds, then what does it matter?  Coyote’s spirit lives on and everyone goes on their merry way.  Should she fail, then the eyes will be yours for the taking.  Either way, it should be most entertaining,” Black God cackled before vanishing in a thick, acrid cloud of smoke once more…

[Batman76]

Took me a minute to realize it was Jane foster thor. Cool use of native American myth 

[Cyril Figgis]

4 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Took me a minute to realize it was Jane foster thor. Cool use of native American myth 

Thanks!  Just like with The Miracle, I wanted to use mythologies that aren't touched on too often with comics.  And since Loki is arguably more popular than Thor, I decided to sort of merge the characters into one.

[Batman76]

5 minutes ago, Cyril Figgis said:

Thanks!  Just like with The Miracle, I wanted to use mythologies that aren't touched on too often with comics.  And since Loki is arguably more popular than Thor, I decided to sort of merge the characters into one.

At first I thought it was a Captain Marvel to ms marvel nod.

Still looking forwards to your version of Power Girl getting huge, but in your own time.

[Cyril Figgis]

8 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

At first I thought it was a Captain Marvel to ms marvel nod.

Still looking forwards to your version of Power Girl getting huge, but in your own time.

It does work as a Carol Danvers proxy in some ways, true.  I think if/when I do get to her, I might try playing with her being of two worlds.

And Miss Elite's time to shine will come!  I won't give any spoilers, but what I have in mind for her is downright "bizarre"...

[Cyril Figgis]

THE CUNNING COYOTE, PART 2

It had been a week since Deborah was given Coyote’s eyes, and while she had thought of nothing else, she had yet to put them on.  Despite Black God’s assurances, she still felt unworthy of the honor and responsibility; no matter what anyone told her otherwise, she always saw herself as Bryce’s sidekick.  What would happen if she failed to live up to his title?  He had just sacrificed his life to save the world—did she have the fortitude to do the same?  Deborah liked to think she was brave, but did she have it in her to be the next Coyote?

After much deliberation, she decided that there was only one way to find out—to put the damned things on and try.  Easier said than done though, for they still sat atop her dresser while she paced back and forth in her bedroom, wearing a path into her floor.  The dark-haired doctor glanced over to them time and again and nibbled on her knuckle as a war raged in her head.

“I don’t deserve these,” she told herself.  “Sure, I was with Bryce on plenty of his adventures, but does that make me worthy of being his successor?  It’s not like Jiao put on the Black Turtle suit when Charlie was paralyzed, or Emma Taffy became the Miracle when Uathach died.  What gives me the right to take on the powers of a god?”

Deborah turned to face herself in the mirror and contested, “Because you stuck by his side for years!  You were with him through thick and thin, hell or high water, and you never once backed down from a challenge!  Are you telling me that you’re going to give up now?”

“Why shouldn’t I?  I’m a nobody from the middle of nowhere, not some god that was born from nothing!  How dare I think I could do what he did?” the doctor asked herself before collapsing onto her bed and covering her hands with her face.  “Plus, what superhero worth their salt talks to themselves?”

Deborah lay there for what felt an eternity before she pulled her hands away and stared up at her blank ceiling.  This was the same argument she had with herself day after day, and she had yet to reach a verdict.  She had half a mind to turn the glasses over to Bryce’s friends in the Protectors, but the other half told her to honor his wishes.  The split was driving her crazy, and she knew that she had to make a decision before her head exploded.

“Okay, enough of this,” she huffed as she pushed herself off the bed.  “We are going to take the glasses and—”

“Deborah Rose!” a booming voice called out to her from outside her bedroom.

The indecisive doctor snatched up the glasses and peeked her head out into the hall, only to snap back when she saw who had called to her.  Standing almost wall to wall and bowing his head due to her low ceilings was Nanook, master of bears and just as surly as one.  He took the form of a hardened man with ruddy skin and a steely glint in his eye, and he was adorned in fur-lined armor that gave him an ursine appearance.  Bryce had taken great pride in outwitting the god among hunters, and while they had many encounters over the years, they had never been particularly pleasant.

It took Deborah a moment to gather her will to speak, and when she finally did, she found that her throat was suddenly dry.  She croaked, “N-Nanook…what an unexpected surprise.  What can I do for you?  Do you need something to drink or—”

“I am not here for pleasantries, Deborah Rose,” the god grunted.  “I have come to take you to the halls of Agiochook, to stand before the Council of Gods and stake your claim to Coyote’s eyes.”

At the mention of Coyote’s eyes, Deborah glanced down at the glasses in her hand and back at Nanook in shock and confusion.  She asked, “I thought…Black God told me that it was Bry—Coyote’s wish for me to have these.”

“So he claims, but they were not his to share and Coyote never told us of this plan.  As the eyes were crafted by the Changing Woman, they belong to us until we decide what to do with them,” Nanook explained as he glowered down at Deborah.  “If you wish to avoid meeting with the Council, then you must forfeit the eyes right now.”

When he held out one of his massive hands to her, the doctor realized that she finally had an answer presented to her.  Fate was giving her an out: the gods wanted their sacred tool back, and who was she to argue with them?  Yet at the same time, she could not help but feel that giving up the eyes would be desecrating the memory of her friend.  Bryce would have wanted her to hold onto these no matter what, just as he had done in life.  If she turned them over without so much as a fight, she did not think that she could face herself in the mirror.

“I refuse,” Deborah retorted, clutching the glasses close and pulling them out of Nanook’s reach.  “If the Council wants them back so bad, then I’ll give them a piece of my mind.”

When he snorted, she swore that steam came out of the master of bears.  He stood straight and tall, only to bash his head against her ceiling and bow down again with a snarl.  “You would defy the wishes of the gods, mortal?”

“For Bryce?  I would spit in their faces,” the doctor snapped back as she put her hands on her hips.  “And I hope you’re going to fix that drywall you just busted.”

Nanook sneered at Deborah, but she refused to cower to him any longer.  When she did not back down, he grumbled, “You speak with bravado now, but we shall see how long your bluster lasts in the face of the divine.  Come—we must away.”

The hunter clapped his hands together, producing a thunderous boom that shook the very structure of her house, and he vanished along with Deborah in a burst of smoke.  When the smoke faded, she found herself in the center of a great hall that seemed to have no ceiling and no walls—only endless space.  Surrounding her was a vast assemblage of deities, many of whom she had personally met over the last several years and many more that she had never seen in her life.  It was enough to make a lesser man crumble, but Deborah had already stood in defiance of one god; she would not back down, even in the face of an army.

Nanook stood before her and raised his arms to the assembly, declaring, “I have delivered the mortal known as Deborah Rose, who wishes to claim Coyote’s eyes for herself!  This council has been brought together to determine if she is truly worthy of holding the trickster’s power, or if it should be returned to rest in Agiochook until a proper successor has been chosen.”

“Thank you, Nanook,” replied Wi, whose resplendent complexion lit up the space around him.  Deborah had run into him on a few occasions, and he had always been kind to her each time; she could only hope he continued that trend this time.  “Do you have the eyes with you, Deborah?”

After swallowing a heavy lump in her throat, the doctor held up the glasses and answered, “I do.  They’re still in pristine condition, and I haven’t put them on yet.”

“She says she hasn’t put them on?  Disgrace!” cried the death dealer, Ta’xet, as he pointed his sharpened blade at her.  “Anyone worthy of Coyote’s power would have assumed his form by now!”

Tia, Ta’xet’s more levelheaded partner, placed her hand over his and lowered the blade down as she contested, “Or it could be a sign that she is not so greedy for power.  After all, anyone could have put on Coyote’s eyes and used his power for their gain, but not her.”

The high-pitched laughter of Haokah rang out over the din of discussion and the clown giggled, “What a concept, to have a god’s power yet do nothing with it!  Why, it’s so preposterous that even I would not do something so foolish.  Let us take the glasses from her, since she clearly has no idea what to do with them!”

As the gods bickered among themselves like they had for the last several days, Lady Raven skulked about in the wings with a sneer on her lips.  She had been among the council over the last week as they went back and forth on how best to approach Deborah Rose, and she wanted so badly to fly down to Earth and rip the glasses from the doctor’s cold, dead hands.  It would be so simple, especially if the coward refused to assume Coyote’s form, but she had to bide her time, lest she anger the others.  Hopefully, the fools would come to a decision fast; having the eyes so close yet so far away was driving the raven goddess mad.

Lady Raven was not the only one frustrated with the gods, as Deborah Rose felt bile rising in the back of her throat.  They deemed her unworthy of Coyote’s powers and dragged her all the way across time and space to their little clubhouse, and then they ignore her and talk about her as though she was not there?  If this was how they normally acted, Deborah could see why Bryce wanted no part of them.

Finally, she could take no more.  The doctor put her fingers in her mouth and let out a shrill whistle that rang out over the discourse around her.  As the discussion died down, Deborah scoffed, “Good!  Now, seeing as you’re the ones who dragged me here, maybe you’ll give me a chance to let me plead my case!”

A swell of confidence filled her chest as she continued, “My name is Deborah Rose, and I was by Coyote’s side throughout his superhero career on Earth.  I was with him when he was masquerading as a doctor in a clinic, I was with him when he chased Pazuzu across the globe, and I was with him when he stormed Olympus to rescue Silver Fox.  Out of all the normal people he met on his travels, I was with him the longest and knew him the best; where other people were too scared to go, I went right in.

“Whatever form he took—Coyote, Bryce Delaney, Coyotoise, or any other—he was my friend.  If he chose me to take his place in the world, then I have to believe it’s because he respected me as much as I respected him.  And I will do whatever it takes to live up to that wish, starting right now,” Deborah finished as she held Coyote’s eyes aloft.

Before anyone could stop her, she whipped the sunglasses open and slid them onto her face.  A terrific light surrounded her and she felt a pleasant burn fill her body as her muscles stretched and developed in an instant.  The aches and pains she felt as she approached 40 disappeared, replaced with more energy than she had felt in years—maybe ever.  Deborah wondered if this was how Bryce felt every time he changed into Coyote or if it was only because this was her first such transformation.  Whatever the case, she never wanted the moment to end.

Like all good things though, the sensation passed and the light faded, revealing a very different person where Deborah Rose had once been standing.  She now stood well over six feet and had packed on a hundred extra pounds—all of it firm muscle.  Her black hair had grown into a waterfall that cascaded down to the small of her back, and when she touched her face, the doctor found her cheeks were defined and her jaw squared.  A familiar helmet covered her head, and she looked out through gold-tinted lenses at the stunned assemblage.

“She…she has taken Coyote’s form,” Tabaldak remarked in hushed awe.

“Not entirely,” Nanook huffed.  “She may wear his clothes, but that does not make her worthy.”

Deborah scowled at the hunter and pointed a gloved finger at him as she goaded him in a deeper voice, “If you think I’m unworthy, Nanook, maybe you’d like to come down here and put your money where your mouth is!”

Nanook snarled and shot out of his seat, only for Wi to put a hand on his shoulder and force him back down.  The glimmering god stepped forward and told Deborah, “While it is impressive that the eyes have chosen you, Dr. Rose, there is still the matter of them being taken from Agiochook without permission.  As such, we propose a set of challenges to you, to see if you truly have what it takes to become Coyote’s successor.”

Though the godly power coursing through Deborah empowered her and bolstered her confidence, she knew better than to argue with Wi.  Bryce had originally been cast out of Agiochook for his arrogance; she was not going to risk losing her powers after she had just gained them.  Still, she could not resist a little grandstanding as she boasted, “I’ll take whatever you can dish out, Wi.  I’m going to prove to each and every one of you that Bryce was right in choosing me!”

Lady Raven, meanwhile, was foaming at the mouth as the charade played out before her.  Talons grew from her fingernails and sank into the wall while her teeth ground together with such ferocity that she gave herself a headache.  That should have been her wearing Coyote’s eyes, not some mortal strumpet who spent her days off in sweatpants and hockey jerseys!  She was the preeminent trickster of the world, and she would not be shown up by Deborah Rose, eyes be damned.

“If they want to test her, I’ll just have to make sure she has no chance of passing,” the obsidian woman seethed.  “I’ll prove that there’s room for only one trickster in Agiochook!”

With that, Lady Raven vanished into the depths of the hall to cook up her scheme.  The other gods, unaware of her disappearance, carried on as Wi laid out the details of Deborah’s trials.  He explained to the blessed woman, “To test your mettle, you will need to pass three tests against members of this council.  You must complete them in the time we give you; should you fail, you will be stripped of the eyes and sent back to Earth with no memory of Coyote.  Do you accept?”

Deborah glowered at the assembly.  Bad enough that they wanted to deprive her of her place as Bryce’s successor, but to take all her memories of him?  No one would ever take that from her while she still had life in her body.  She nodded and replied, “I accept.  Name your challenges.”

“First, you will need to race around the mountain against the members of the Menagerie from sunrise to midday.  Next, you will need to escape from Haokah’s mirror world before the sun goes down.  Finally, you must evade capture by Nanook until the sun rises once more.”

If Deborah had thought her tests would be easy, all those hopes would have been dashed in an instant.  The Menagerie was a collection of beastmen that served the gods and covered every corner of the animal kingdom, Haokah’s beguiling puzzles had led many a lesser mind to madness, and what else needed to be said of Nanook?  Any one of those challenges would be a feat for someone to complete, but for a neophyte like Deborah, many deemed it impossible for her to complete all three.  And perhaps if she was still the same woman she once was, maybe they would have been right.

But this was not the same Deborah Rose who had doubted herself not twenty minutes prior.  Her determination to prove the gods wrong had bolstered the confidence she had all along, and with Coyote’s magic fueling her, she felt like she could tackle the world.  As such, the transformed woman crossed her arms and replied, “Consider them done, Wi.  I just hope Nanook’s pride won’t be hurting too much when I beat him at his own game.”

“We shall see who beats who, insolent girl!” Nanook bellowed from his seat.

Once more, Wi stood between any confrontation between the two and told Deborah, “Then go and prepare yourself, Dr. Rose, for you have a big day ahead and will need all your strength.”

With that, the assembly adjourned and left Deborah to her own devices.  There were a few gods that passed by and greeted her with courtesy, but most kept their distance, whether out of uncertainty or disdain for her.  Those would be the ones she would have the hardest time winning over, but she was certain that she would do it in the end; she had to, or everything that she knew about Bryce would be taken from her.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Deborah prepared herself to depart, only to be stopped when she heard a sweet voice call out to her, “Dr. Rose!  Dr. Rose, wait!”

The dark-haired doctor turned and came face to face with a woman bundled in a thick fur suit and holding a bowl of soup.  She bowed her head to Deborah and told her, “Pardon me—I am Nerrivik, and I came to wish you well on your trials tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you, Nerrivik,” the doctor replied amiably.  “I’m sorry if I came off a bit strong, but I couldn’t afford to look weak in the eyes of so many.”

“Oh, think nothing of it,” the goddess hummed.  “I went to the dining hall to prepare something to help you on your way—something that will give you an edge over all the competition, especially that manic Haokah and boorish Nanook.”

Nerrivik held the bowl up for Deborah, and she gingerly took it to examine.  It looked like an ordinary stew, with some root vegetables and thick chunks of meat floating to the surface.  Whatever was in it, it smelled absolutely delicious, and it took all of her resolve to not start wolfing it down there and then.  The gods already thought she was unwelcome; the last thing she wanted to do was show that she had poor manners.

“Thank you, Nerrivik,” said the doctor.  “I think this will give me just what I need.  I hope to see you out there at the trials tomorrow!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss them for the world,” Nerrivik replied before turning and leaving the assembly hall, a raven perching on her shoulder once she was out of sight…

[Cyril Figgis]

THE CUNNING COYOTE, PART 3

The following day, an hour before the sun would rise, the gods gathered in Agiochook once more to bear witness to Deborah’s trials.  An air of excitement crept through the halls of the sacred den as the deities wondered how the mortal woman would fare against her competition.  Though the Menagerie was composed of lesser spirits, they were still a force to be reckoned with, especially for the uninitiated.  Any one of the beastmen could outclass an Olympic athlete, but there were a few that had an axe to grind when it came to their opponent that day.

The first was Queen Buffalo, who claimed to be the descendant of the Suhtai buffalo that competed in the great race against a hunter.  She was a burly brute of a woman that towered over the competition and was built like a tank, as was fitting of her namesake.  Her hair grew out thick and curly and draped over her beady eyes, though anyone looking closely could still see piercing green eyes.  As she prepared for the race, she affixed two horns to a headband and pounded her fists together in anticipation of what was to come.

Then there was Icewing, who was once acted as Kid Falcon and helped his grandfather, Coyote, fight crime before he left to see the world.  A slender young man who looked half as young as he truly was, Icewing kept himself lean as an acrobat so as to maintain his gift of flight.  He wore a suit made from the winds of the tundra, condensed into a sort of armor that glimmered like freshly fallen snow.  A falcon-shaped mask adorned his face, but when he removed it to wipe the sweat from his brow, several onlookers fawned at his sleek, handsome looks.

Finally, there was She-Bear, who had been Coyote’s wife in another lifetime, when he was a malicious trickster who tormented others.  Once a good-natured woman, she was captivated by the roguish god and corrupted by him until he convinced her to kill her brothers.  Coyote eventually abandoned her, and the broken villainess spent the next several eons alternating getting back at him and getting back with him.  That day, She-Bear paced the racing grounds halfway between her ursine form and human form as she waited for the imposter that had taken her ex-husband’s place.

These three kept their eyes peeled for any sign of who they deemed a fraud that had assumed Coyote’s role without proving herself.  Queen Buffalo refused to bend to a mortal like her ancestor, Icewing could not accept someone taking his grandfather’s place so soon after his passing, and She-Bear refused to acknowledge the hussy that had stolen her husband’s attention.  They would run the race as intended, but they were not afraid to get a little rough with Deborah and see just what she was made of.

While the Menagerie prepared themselves and the gods took their seats in the gathering hall, Lady Raven waited from her private chambers.  She had a perfect view of all Agiochook thanks to her crystal ball, and she would be able to witness Deborah’s failure without missing a second.  If only she could be there to see the looks on the others’ faces when they saw what she had done to the mortal.  The thought sent her into a fit of impish laughter that sounded not unlike her namesake’s cawing, but her devilish joy was broken by a knock at her door.

“Who is it?” the enchantress squawked before she could compose herself.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I have your breakfast ready for you,” came a soft, mousey voice from the other side.  A waif of a woman peeked her head in, revealing herself to be a tiny redhead done up in a servant’s gown and holding a tray of food.  “I am not intruding, am I?”

“Not yet, no,” Lady Raven huffed as she sat up straight and proper at her table.  “Bring it in.”

The redhead skittered into the room and left the tray in front of the impatient villainess, who tore her attention away from her crystal ball long enough to look over her serving.  Eggs, a few strips of bacon, a bowl of porridge with fruit on top, and a tall glass of milk—not a bad way to start the day.  Like her namesake bird, Lady Raven normally ate little, but with the promise of sweet revenge, she could afford to splurge for one day.

“Be a good girl and get me some hotcakes,” the obsidian woman commanded the serving girl.  “It’s been far too long since I’ve had them, and today is a special day.”

“As you wish, my lady,” the redhead meekly replied before dashing out of the room.

While she tucked into her breakfast, Lady Raven kept one keen eye on the crystal ball, waiting for the moment when Deborah made her big debut— ‘big’ being the appropriate word.  She wished that she could have been there to see the other gods’ reactions, but she did not want to give away her involvement.  Not until she had taken the Great Spirit’s place, that is, but she did not want to put the horse before the cart again.

“Once I get Coyote’s eyes though, it will only be a matter of time,” she sneered through a mouthful of bacon.  “I should be ruling the world by next Tuesday—Thursday at the latest!”

***

Out on the racetrack, the members of the Menagerie were growing restless as their opponent had yet to show up, even as the black of night gave way to the rosy sky of dawn.  Steam billowed out of Queen Buffalo’s nose and she stamped the ground in frustration, while She-Bear slowly changed into her ursine appearance as her blood boiled.  Only Icewing kept his cool, leaning against a tree and twirling a knife in his fingers while he kept one eye on the crowd.

“Where is she?” Queen Buffalo grunted.  “She knew the rules: she needs to be here by dawn, or else she loses straight out of the gate!”

“What, were you looking forward to this race?” asked Icewing.

“Yeah!  I don’t give a damn about Coyote’s eyes; all that matters is proving that I’m the fastest thing on two legs,” the gruff woman boasted.

She-Bear’s lips curled back as she snarled, “Well, I don’t care what they do with my darling’s eyes, but if that floozy doesn’t show up soon, I’m going down to that little shack of hers to rip her throat out.  I won’t stand for this!”

Icewing sighed and went back to toying with his knife.  While he did not normally harbor any ill will towards Deborah Rose, having worked together with her on a number of occasions, he found it distasteful that she would usurp Coyote’s role while his body was still warm in the ground.  After all, not only was O-let’-te a god, but he was also a superhero—two types of people that rarely stayed dead.  Surely they could afford to wait at least a month to see if he resurrected in some capacity.

As the dawn grew closer, Wi appeared among the Menagerie and glanced about in search of Deborah, but he could find neither head nor tail.  The resplendent god sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he wondered what to do, only to pause when he heard a thunderous boom from the trees.  He called out, “Deborah?  Is that you?”

“Sorry, sorry!” the doctor replied in a deep, thick voice.  “I had…well…something’s happened.  I don’t suppose we can postpone the trial?”

The solar spirit cocked an eyebrow at that and answered, “I’m afraid not, Deborah Rose.  Why would you have us push back this dire contest?”

“See for yourself,” Deborah answered glumly as she stumbled out from the nearby woods, a decidedly different woman than the one that left Agiochook the day prior.

All the spirits on the mountain gasped when they saw the elephantine woman emerge from the tree line.  In just a few short hours, the new Coyote seemed to have easily doubled, if not tripled her weight, expanding to a point that her leather armor fit poorly on her flabby frame.  Chubby cheeks and a thick ring of fat around her neck made her helmet a tight fit, and she found herself pushing it back down every few feet.  Deborah’s bare arms quivered slightly, ripples coursing through biceps as big around as her thighs were when she was human and flab oozing out of her bracer.  Even her fingerless gloves looked fit to burst around her plump hands and sausage fingers.

While not particularly endowed in her mortal form, Deborah was blessed with a sizeable bosom when she took on Coyote’s power—so much so that she could give The Miracle a run for her money.  Now, that same divine chest had become soft and flabby, and the only reason her matronly breasts did not droop down over her belly was because of her armor keeping them in place.  This presented its own drawbacks though, as her spongy, sweaty tits oozed out around the golden-brown chest plate, and they jostled with every ponderous step she took.

At least her breasts had some form of release; her gut remained vacuum-packed into her leather armor.  Whenever anyone adorned Coyote’s eyes, his mystical armor would appear over them, fitting them as snug as a glove.  This would not be so bad normally, but with how much it squeezed in her middle, Deborah looked like she was being squeezed into the corset from Hell.  With no way to let out the chest plate and alleviate some of the pressure, the new heroine was left red in the face and gulping down air like a fish out of water.

Her legs were in much the same predicament, but at least the pants did not cut off how much air she was getting.  No, the biggest problem was that they had become so tight that Deborah felt pins and needles running and down her legs.  Flabby thighs slapped together as she waddled towards the Menagerie, her gait awkward and cumbersome as she had to roll her stiff legs around each other.  By the time she reached her opponents and Wi, Deborah was gasping and sweating up a storm.

“By the Great Spirit—what happened?” asked a bewildered Wi.

Deborah slumped her softened shoulders and whined, “I just woke up like this!  I went to sleep like normal, but when I woke up, I was surrounded by wrappers, pizza boxes, and takeout bags and I was the size of a blimp!”

Many in the Menagerie laughed at their competition’s condition, but none more so than Queen Buffalo, who all but fell to the ground in hysterics.  She clutched her side when the laughter turned painful, and she barely managed to wheeze out, “That’s…that’s amazing!  I’ve seen fat cats, fat cows, and fat pigs, but I’ve never seen a fat coyote!”

“Disgraceful,” Icewing muttered from his spot against the tree, glaring daggers at Deborah.

Wi rubbed the back of his neck and glanced back at the peak of Agiochook, where he was sure the gods were just as bewildered as him.  He wanted to be fair to Deborah and give her a chance to recover before putting her through such grueling tests, but the others would never allow it.  If the whole point of these trials was to test the new Coyote’s mettle, then they could not simply postpone it.  Countless champions had been forged in the fires of hardship; if Deborah could not complete the trials with this burden, she could not hope to fulfill her new duties.

The solar god was shaken from his musing by Deborah shouting at Queen Buffalo, “You making fun of me, heifer?  I’ll kick your ass clear to the Bridge of the Gods!”

“Fat chance of that,” She-Bear scoffed.  “You’re so big, the only way you’d go fast is if we knocked you on your ass and roll you.”

“Say that again, She-Bitch!  See where it gets you!” Deborah growled at the shapeshifting racer.  She swung her lardy legs around and toddled over to the She-Bear, her fat hands clenching into fists as her eyes went red with rage.

Before the two could come to blows, Wi created a wall of light between them and stood atop it.  His glimmering eyes turned to Deborah and he told her, “Deborah Rose, you must decide here and now if you wish to go through with your trials.  If not, you must forfeit your claim to Coyote’s eyes!”

The commanding tone helped the neophyte heroine cool down—or rather, focus her frustrations on the goal.  She nodded into a triple chin and replied, “I once saw Bryce save the world while he could do nothing but blink; if I gave up because I put on a few pounds, I wouldn’t dare call myself ‘Coyote’.”

Wi’s stern scowl softened into a smirk as he remarked, “That’s the Deborah I know.  Take your place at the starting line, and we’ll get underway.”

Deborah gave the solar spirit a tubby thumbs up before waddling off to the starting line, the other members of the Menagerie parting around her like the Red Sea.  Snorts and jeers arose from the gallery, but the hefty heroine was not swayed by their taunts.  She was sizing up the competition, recalling everything she could about the various beastmen in attendance, for Bryce had faced every one of them at least once.  Some would give her trouble, but there were only a few that she needed to worry about—and one of them sent literal chills down her spine.

Icewing floated over to Deborah on a cold gust of wind and settled beside her, looking down on her as though she was dog muck.  He sneered, “I used to admire you, Rose, but perhaps that admiration was misplaced.  Someone clearly pulled a fast one on you, and if you couldn’t see that coming, then you aren’t deserving of O-let’-te’s power.”

The doughball doctor rolled her eyes and retorted, “Junior, you’re no prize either.  I remember you falling for a good few traps when you worked with Bryce, or did you think I’d forgotten how the Mermaid Sisters left you tied up with your clothes when you tried to go undercover?”

The cocky aviator turned a fine pink at the reminder of his humiliating failure, but he scoffed in turn and crossed his arms.  “That’s in the past.  I want you to forfeit and spare yourself the humiliation of losing to every last member of the Menagerie.  What do you say?”

“I say you better put your money where your mouth is,” Deborah taunted as she poked Icewing in the chest.  “When I win, you’re going to be my sidekick for the next year—that means listening to whatever I tell you, understand?”

“It won’t happen,” the brash competitor snorted.  “I was going to promise not to embarrass you, but I think I’ll take a victory lap when you’re still wheezing through your first mile.”

“Just for that, I’m going to make you wear your old costume—the one with the Speedo,” the heroine retorted with a wink.

As the first rays of dawn crested the horizon and turned the sky a rosy red, the Menagerie assembled around Deborah.  Most crouched into a runner’s start, but there were a few who saw the zeppelin of a woman and figured that a leisurely stroll would be enough to pass her.  Deborah, for her part, scraped the dirt path with her boot and kept her eyes forward—always on the prize, the same way she lived her life.

Wi hovered over the competitors and explained the rules of the race, “Racers, this is not a sprint, but a marathon!  You must keep running until midday; if you stop for even a moment, you will be disqualified.  Good luck to you all, and may the Great Spirit bless you on your way.”

“Some of us are going to need it more than others,” Queen Buffalo whispered under her breath, just loud enough for Deborah to hear.

“Yeah—you,” the heroine growled softly.

When the sun finally peaked over the hills, Wi held his hand high and let loose a fireball from his fingertip.  Just like that, the racers dashed ahead, leaving behind Deborah, who trundled along as fast as her flabby legs would carry her.  So long as she could make it to noon, she would win; so long as she kept that in mind, she would win, regardless of the sharp cramp that built up her side within minutes.

***

From her private room in Agiochook, Lady Raven howled with such laughter that she nearly fell from her seat.  She knew that stew she gave to Deborah yesterday would be potent, but she could never have imagined just how powerful.  How positively devilish of her, to turn that mortal fool into the laughingstock of the gods!  One spoonful of her cursed stew would have made anyone hungry enough to eat for two; since Deborah ate the whole bowl, it would be a miracle if there was any food left in the tri-state area.  Now, her most hated rival was round as a ball of dough and just as mobile…

“My lady?  I have more hotcakes for you,” the redheaded serving girl called out as she poked her head into the room.

“Come in, come in!  Oh, that’s the only thing that could make this moment better,” Lady Raven cackled while her servant brought over the plate of golden, steaming hotcakes.

When the cakes were set in front of her, the enchantress tucked right in, though she kept one eye on her crystal ball.  So caught up was she in the race that she failed to notice this was her third plate of hotcakes, that she had eaten a good dozen eggs, and that she had eaten twice as many sausage links.  More than that, she failed to notice just how tight her dress was getting, especially around the middle, where a plush tummy was starting to encroach on her lap…

[Guest ratetankmark]

Hey, man, I'm so sorry that I haven't been keeping up with these as much as I wish I could've been; but I'm really liking the whole animal vibes that these recent chapters have and I just love the descriptions, like Debohrah's body being so mammoth and you using genuinely different descriptive words like describing a character as a 'zeppelin' was a really cool touch and it kinda gives me like a sexy Wacky Races vibe with the race idea; only this is much more easing on the eye and part of me thinks that Lady Raven is gonna get much, much larger as the chapters go on!  Great work, mate.  

[Cyril Figgis]

THE CUNNING COYOTE, PART 4

The marathon around Agiochook was a spectacle to behold, with beastmen of all species racing across the hills around the divine mountain in the name of glory.  The birds flew, the bugs skittered, and the mammals bounded along at a breakneck pace, their multitude causing the earth to shake beneath their feet.  Though none of them truly had a stake in the race, for none were there to compete for Coyote’s eyes, victory would still be an immense honor.  It was a shame, then, that there were some who were decidedly unsportsmanlike in the competition.

“Out of my way, chump!” Queen Buffalo bellowed before steamrolling over an unfortunate salamander.  “Chugga-chugga choo-choo!”

Since there was no rule against attacking the other competitors, Queen Buffalo took the opportunity to ** out some of the competition.  The race was as good as hers, but it never hurt to have a few less people to compete against, especially when the only rule was that the winner needed to still be standing by midday.  As such, she had spent the first few miles trampling over other competitors, slamming them into trees, and launching them into the air, all with a wicked grin on her face.

The ones that were tossed skywards presented a problem for Icewing, whose frosty wings carried him on the wind around Agiochook.  For him, the goal was to work smarter, not harder, to win the race, and that meant relying on his flight to carry him.  The cocky former sidekick would be the first to admit that he was not the fastest runner, nor did he have the stamina to go as long as some of the others in the race on his feet.  If he alternated between running and flying though, he could keep this up all day long—at the very least, long enough to rub it in Deborah’s face.

Then there was She-Bear, who had let the beast inside loose and ran roughshod over the competition like Queen Buffalo.  Her main goal was getting rid of Deborah, but after the confrontation they had prior to the race, she needed to let off some steam in order to face her with a clear head.  As it was, she had taken the form of a brown bear the size of a truck and roared louder than a train horn as she barreled down the path.

Of course, the target of her ire was still lagging behind the rest of the competition, much to the amusement of the gods that disdained her.  For all her bold talk and boisterous claims, Deborah was far too rotund to be anything more than sluggish as she struggled along the trail.  She kicked her fat legs around each other in an awkward gait and swung her arms around like an infant who had just learned to walk, neither of which helped her gain any momentum.  It was a good thing that the race was a test of endurance rather than a sprint to the finish; if that was the case, she would have failed straightaway.

“What a laugh this is!  My sides are fit to split,” Haokah wheezed through fits of hysterical laughter, his painted cheeks tinting red.  “If she should make it to my challenge, that might be the greatest jest of all!”

“She’ll be lucky if she can even make it that long,” Nanook scoffed as he watched the mortal firebrand make a mockery of herself.  “Once She-Bear catches up to her, it will all be over for her.  I have taken down fat prey before, but none quite so large as her.”

Tabaldak shook his head and sighed, “We should not have gone through with these trials now.  We ought to be figuring out who sabotaged her!”

“With how she disrespected us, I can’t think of who wouldn’t,” Ta’xet sneered.

While the other gods spoke among themselves, Wi stayed silent and kept a close eye on the race.  The more he watched Deborah wobble down the path, the more he came to believe that something was off with her—more so than just her waking up a couple hundred pounds heavier.  Perhaps it was just his old eyes playing tricks on him, but he swore there was some sort of shimmer around her rotund body…

***

“Look at her waddling!  I’ve seen penguins more graceful than that bucket of lard,” Lady Raven cackled with devilish glee.  She slapped one of her knees, oblivious to the ripple that coursed through her thigh from the impact, and took another hearty gulp of goat’s milk.  “Have you ever seen anything quite so wonderful, girl?”

The enchantress glanced over to the meek redhead that had been serving her all morning, and the maid bowed her head before replying, “It’s truly a spectacle, my lady.”

“Oh, it’s so much more than a mere spectacle,” Lady Raven hummed around a mouthful of honey glazed ham.  “That little strumpet has been a thorn in my side since I first met her; I can’t even begin to count the times she’s foiled my plans for Coyote.  When she fails this test, I’m going to swoop right in and take the eyes that are rightly mine.”

“But aren’t the gods going to seal them away with the other treasures of Agiochook?” asked the redhead as she set a plate of cheesy broccoli in front of the witch.

The question was brushed off with a flippant wave of Lady Raven’s hand while she used the other to deliver a forkful of broccoli to her lips.  “What they don’t know won’t hurt them for now.  I’ll let them think they have the eyes, but I’ll steal away the real things; when they do figure it out, it will be too late to stop me!  Ingenious, right?”

“Quite, my lady,” the serving girl remarked softly.  “Another helping of sweet potato pie?”

“Of course!  This is a celebration, after all,” the obsidian witch snorted in her delight, oblivious to what all her celebrating thus far had done to her figure.

Lady Raven wore a dress no matter where she went, which made her look far less like a supervillain than a debutante, but her choice in fashion was a poor one that day.  Her silken, shadowy gown was meant to hug her lean physique, so when that leanness was lost to soft pudge, it was fit to burst on her.  A bounty of cleavage was on display at the neckline, and with how much the enchantress laughed and threw herself about, it was only a matter of time until it was freed.  Between her chest and the globular belly that strained the middle of her dress, one would be forgiven for thinking she was pregnant, especially when looking at her hips.  The only place she had relief was the long slit that ran up her left side, allowing one of her lard-caked legs to breathe.

Any other day, the temptress of souls might have noticed this change and been appalled by what had become of her, but not today.  Today, she was having far too much fun reveling in Deborah’s misfortune, especially when she saw the mortal woman almost trip on a root.

“I’m going to make you suffer for years of indignities, Deborah Rose,” Lady Raven chortled in between bites of turkey.  “Just you wait!”

***

As the sun rose higher in the sky and the race carried on, Queen Buffalo found herself enjoying a comfortable lead over everyone else.  Despite running for the last few hours without a single break, the bruiser still barreled around the mountain without a care in the world.  A smirk was plastered on her lips as she imagined all the slowpokes trailing behind her; if she kept up the pace, she was liable to start lapping some of the slowest, especially the new Coyote.

“Can’t believe what a bunch of slugs they are,” the brunette chuckled to herself as her powerful legs pumped along like pistons.

“I know, right?  You’d think they could find some better competition,” a frustratingly familiar voice replied beside her.

Queen Buffalo swiveled her head around and nearly fell over when she saw that Deborah was keeping perfect pace with her, despite weighing upwards of 300 pounds.  Her jaw flapped open uselessly as she struggled to find words to say, only to be cut off by Deborah asking, “But really, is this the fastest you can go?”

“Wha…but…what do you mean this is the fastest I can go?” Queen Buffalo stammered, her train of thought lost when her speed was contested.

“I just thought that, for all your talk of being so fast, you’d be able to go a little faster than this,” the new Coyote answered with a shrug.  “Guess I was wrong.”

That smartass remark made the brawler’s blood boil and veins bulge, and she tried to ram into Deborah, only for the butterball to somehow speed up and dash ahead of her.  Queen Buffalo snorted out a cloud of steam and bellowed, “Get back here, lard ass!”

“Only if you can catch it,” Deborah taunted. 

***

Further back, She-Bear had run out of opponents to maul and settled for racing around the mountain like all the others.  It was not like Deborah could catch up in her condition; the only way they would meet would be if She-Bear managed to lap her.  The changeling might have felt sorry for the woman if she was anyone else, but when she thought of her husband in the hands of that floozy and vice-versa, it made her want to murder someone.

“Looking for someone?” asked Deborah as she ran up alongside She-Bear.

The ursine killer glanced to the trees alongside the path and spied the corpulent new Coyote waiting against a rock.  She might have wondered how she had managed to catch up to the fattened woman, considering how slow she was at the start of the race, but She-Bear was in no condition to ask questions.  The sight of Deborah in Coyote’s clothes made her foam at the mouth, and any thoughts of the marathon were lost as she spun about and charged into the woods.

“I’ll rip your heart out with my teeth!” the scorned woman howled as she tackled Deborah, only for the tubby trickster to leap on top of the rock at the last second.

“At least buy me dinner first,” Deborah hummed before dashing away.

All She-Bear could think of were the horrific things she would do to that tub of goo when she caught up with her.  That abundance of supple flesh, quivering and bouncing even in its leather confines, enticed the bestial part of her being and stoked her appetite like a fire.  With a mighty roar, she charged off into the woods surrounding Agiochook in pursuit of her flabby rival, the marathon now the furthest thing from her mind.

***

From his vantage point high in the sky, Icewing was able to look down on the other wrestlers and keep track of the competition.  Everything was normal for a while, with Queen Buffalo and She-Bear tearing their opponents to shreds, but as the clock ticked closer to midday, he noticed something off about the two leads.  Queen Buffalo had maintained a steady pace over the other racers, only to pick up speed and sprint ahead along the path.  She-Bear, on the other hand, abandoned the path completely to chase after…something—it was hard for him to tell what with the thick foliage around Agiochook.

“Whatever,” the smarmy aviator scoffed.  “Let them tire themselves out all they want.  I’ll just glide on into victory, same as ever.”

“Is that how I brought you up, boy?” a gravelly voice whispered in Icewing’s ear.

The young man’s eyes went wide behind his mask and he glanced all around him, only to find empty sky.  Still, the voice carried on, “I taught you up better than that, Wek’-wek…the only victory is one earned through hard work.  You think you honor me by lazing about up in the sky like the magpie?”

Icewing bowed his head in shame as he whimpered, “No, Grandfather.”

“If you wish to prove yourself superior, you will get down there and run like all the others,” the phantasmic voice of Coyote commanded.  “Go now, Wek’-wek, or you will shame me for eternity.”

The disappointment in his grandfather’s voice cut like a knife, and the aviator quickly descended to the forest floor to join the other racers.  Icewing was soon huffing and puffing, but he did not dare take flight again, lest he earn the scorn of Coyote again.  If this is what his grandfather wanted, then this was what he would do—anything to honor the spirit of the late O-let’-te.

***

High up in the halls of Agiochook, merriment and laughter had given way to confusion among the gathered gods as the three leads in the marathon completely changed course.  Bets that had been made went completely out the window, and wild guesses were thrown around the observatory.  Had someone driven them mad?  Was there a specter tormenting them on the field?  Should someone interrupt the trial to investigate?

“By now, you’re probably wondering what’s going on,” purred the redheaded servant girl that had been flitting around the halls all day.

“Who are you, girl?” Nanook growled as a spear materialized in his hands.  “Are you some spy sent to attack us while we’re all in one place?”

“Oh, Nanook…if I really wanted to attack the lot of you, I’d have already done it,” the maid hummed as she stepped into the room with far more confidence than the average servant.

The redhead snapped her fingers, and instantly, she changed into Deborah Rose as she had been the day prior—without a shred of body fat on her.  She licked her lips as she told the bewildered gods, “Don’t tell me you expected a trickster to play fair.”

“But who’s down there on the field?” asked Tabaldak.  “And why is she so fat?”

Deborah wandered into the center of the observatory and conjured a chair out of thin air.  She sat down and sighed, “Man, it feels good to sit down after being on my feet all morning.  Do you have any idea how much running around your servants have to do?”

“An explanation, woman,” Nanook growled as he tried to sit down, only to fall on his backside when he discovered his chair had been taken by the new Coyote.

“Where to begin,” the doctor hummed.  “Well, I was given a bowl of soup by one of the gods yesterday, which was mighty generous—and suspicious.  Thanks to these eyes, I was able to see that there was an enchantment placed on the bowl that would have made me swell up like a balloon.  Someone wanted to make sure I didn’t get to compete in the trials, and the faint trace of bird told me that it could only be Lady Raven.”

“So you made a fattened duplicate of yourself to throw her off,” Wi pieced together.  “Quite clever…but I take it that it doesn’t end there?”

Deborah shook her head.  “Nope.  After the greeting I got from those three chuckleheads out there, I decided to teach them a lesson along with birdbrain.”

With a wave of her hand, the trickster summoned four screens that showed how her rivals were faring out in the marathon: Queen Buffalo collapsed against a tree when her legs could carry her no further; Icewing had fallen far behind the remaining racers and struggled to keep going; She-Bear, blinded by fury was about to run off a cliffside.  Then there was the devious Lady Raven, who had changed so much in the span of a few hours that some of the gods did not recognize her.

The egotistical enchantress had long since torn through her glimmering gown and looked to be crammed into her chair.  Flabby, matronly breasts sloped down either side of a belly that reached almost to her knees, and her sensual hips had exploded outwards to where they bit into her arm chair like starving beasts.  Three chins rippled as she greedily shoveled food down her gullet, the race completely forgotten as she ate as though she had been starving.

“Serves her right, if you ask me,” Deborah chuckled before making the screens disappear and turning back to the gods.  “Now, I’m sure some of you are miffed about me skipping out on this first trial, but allow me to retort—you can stick your trials up your ass.”

The gathered deities were stunned into silence as the new Coyote rose from her seat and told them, “I might not have had superpowers before yesterday, but I risked my neck right alongside Bryce for years.  I am an honorary member of the Protectors, the Vindicators, and the Cosmic Raiders, and I’ve wielded no less than seven divine weapons.  I don’t have to prove anything to you all—if anything, you ought to prove yourselves to me.”

With that, Deborah vanished in a cloud of smoke shaped like a giant middle finger, leaving the gods to wonder how they would handle this young upstart…

[Guest ratetankmark]

Holy Shit, this was a great part, loved the different characters personalities shining through, the writing was awesome and you have a real knack for humour and comedy and I love the cartoonish vibes that this gave me. I'd have to say that my favourite parts were Lady Raven's gluttonous descent and Deborah managing to play everyone like a fiddle. Great work, as usual. 😃

 

 

[Cyril Figgis]

Hey all!  I'm so glad you've all been enjoying these stories so far--it's been so much fun to come up with this not so little superhero universe.  We'll be starting the next installment in just a couple days, but I wanted to share something special in the meantime.  Guardiana's initial gain, which kicked off the rebirth of the C&C brand, has been wonderfully illustrated by the immensely talented Kynes!  If you love these, go check them out on dA, Twitter, and more!

 

[Cyril Figgis]

SUPERSTAR FORCE, PART 1

“All right, guys, let’s finish him off with the Superstar Cannon!”

On the outskirts of the town of Devil’s Peak, there was a quarry that had fallen into disuse in the 70s but had gained a new purpose just a few months ago.  That purpose was to serve as a battlefield for an endless struggle between the forces of good and evil—the Superstar Force and the Cirque Demoniaque.  The latter was a troupe of demons that had ventured from the Netherworld to collect souls for their hellish circus, and the former was a group of high school students that had been blessed with divine powers to combat the evil horde.  Despite how mismatched that feud seemed on paper, the Superstars had managed to save the day in each and every encounter.

The battle that day was no different, as the teens did battle with a rat-like monster, known as Trapster, who had been luring unsuspecting citizens into traps for his demonic overlords.  It had been a good plan, and he had even temporarily captured the Blue Superstar, but he now faced the barrel of the Superstar Cannon like so many of his brethren.  Said cannon was formed by bringing together special batons they each wielded and channeling energy into them until a rainbow explosion burst out, as the Trapster was about to learn firsthand.

“Fire!” the Red Superstar shouted.

All at once, beams of red, yellow, blue, pink, black, and green shot out of their batons and struck the ratty monster square in the chest.  Before he exploded, Trapster managed to squeak out, “This really cheeses me off!”

When the dust settled, the Yellow Superstar rose to her feet and dusted her hands off.  “Well, I think that went well!”

“Speak for yourself, Nicole,” Blue grumbled as she crossed her arms.  “You weren’t the one stuck in that crummy cage of his.  I haven’t seen such appalling accommodations since that time I stayed at a two-star bed and breakfast!”

The multi-colored team of teens wore matching uniforms that were similar in all but color and the design of their helmet.  They were clad in jumpsuits made of a supernatural material that resembled spandex and had white gloves, boots, and belts.  Beyond that, each was designated by a color and an animal they derived their power from: Red Lion, Blue Stallion, Yellow Bear, Black Tiger, Pink Seal, and Green Elephant.  Their helmets were shaped to resemble their animals, but otherwise looked like motorcycle helmets, no matter how much their mentor insisted they were not.

“Well, I’m sure a nice soak in your personal jacuzzi will help wash the stink off the stink of that rat cage,” Red chuckled.  “Let’s power down and head back to town, guys.”

The teens turned a dial on their belt buckles, which caused a dazzling light to encompass them and return them to normal.  Without their colorful costumes, the Superstars looked like your average teenagers, which was just as good for them—it meant people would not recognize them, despite how they wore clothes that matched their costumes.

“I don’t know about you all, but I am craving a grilled cheese from PT’s right now,” Nicole Vasquez, the Yellow Superstar, remarked with a lick of her lips and a pat of her soft stomach.

“I’m down!  Fighting evil really works up the appetite,” Danny Patel, the Black Superstar, replied.

Lorelei, the Green Superstar and the only inhuman among the team, shrugged her shoulders.  “I suppose that recording this can wait.”

“Now you’re getting it,” Trevor Trang, the Red Superstar, teased the strawberry-blonde girl.  “We’ll teach you to shirk your duties yet.”

Kristen Tanner, the Blue Superstar, gagged at the thought of more cheese and replied, “I’ll pass, Nicky—I’ve had enough cheese for one day, unless it’s a fine pule or white stilton.”

Behind her was the Pink Superstar, Rose Pillar, who shrugged and told Nicole, “I’d love to, but I’m trying to stick to my diet and I’d just cave if I went to PT’s.”

Nicole tried not to roll her eyes at the demure blonde.  Rose was a very sweet girl who had transferred from Britain at the start of the school year, and while they had helped her come out of her shell over the last few months, there was one thing her new friends could not help her shake.  Despite having a body most girls would kill for, she always found little imperfections to pick at and fret over, whether it was her hair, her skin, or, most recently, her weight.  She had tried fasting, exercising herself to exhaustion, and diet pills that were little more than sugar tablets, all in the name of shedding five pounds that were undetectable to the untrained eye.

“Rose, come on, you don’t need to lose an ounce.  If anyone on this team needs to lose weight, it’s me,” Nicole insisted.  As if the tightness of her Daisy Dukes on her chunky thighs was not enough proof, she tugged her rugby shirt up to reveal her soft stomach pooching out like a dollop of caramel.  She gave the small belly a slap and told Rose, “Compared to me and my jelly belly, you look like a twig!”

The blonde blushed as pink as her blouse and fiddled with the hem as she mumbled, “W-Well, not all of us make it look as good as you do.”

Kristen leaped to her friend’s defense by pinching one of Nicole’s exposed love handles and reminding the Latina, “And there’s nothing wrong with having a different goal weight than others.”

“Well, just means more for me,” the pintsized Nicole shrugged.  “See you gals tomorrow then!”

The team said their goodbyes as they went their separate ways—the four hungry Superstars riding off on their Star Cycles and the other two hanging back.  Rose found herself both delighted and anxious to be alone with Kristen because, as much as she loved her friends, the redhead held a special place in her heart.  With how elegant she acted and how fashionable she dressed, the blonde was afraid that the richest girl in Devil’s Peak would be like so many bullies she had seen on TV.  Thankfully, that could not have been further from the truth, as Kristen had spent countless hours helping her get acclimated to her new home and all its customs.

In all the time they spent together, Rose found herself developing more than just a fondness for the Blue Superstar.  The little things they did together took on so much more value to her, and while the redhead had never been close to ugly, she seemed positively radiant in the blonde Brit’s eyes.  Her snowy complexion that freckled ever so slightly in the sun, her crimson hair that cascaded past her shoulder blades, and her eyes that shimmered like blue sapphires all tantalized Rose.  And, though she was loathe to admit it, her eyes were drawn to Kristen’s cantaloupe breasts much more frequently.

“Earth to Rosie!” the redhead hummed as she waved a hand in Rose’s face.  “Still with me?”

“Wuh-huh?” Rose stammered as she snapped to attention again.  “Sorry, sorry…I was just thinking about…stuff.”

“Oh?  What kind of stuff?” Kristen asked with a coy grin that drove Rose crazy on the inside.

The demure girl fumbled for a reply before asking, “Well, like, um…want to go to the mall?  My mum’s birthday is coming up, and I think one of my backpack straps is about to break, and there was this really cute pair of shoes I saw, and—”

Rose could have gone on, but Kristen tapped a finger to her lips and sent her into an immediate silence.  Her chesty companion made a slight readjustment to her blue jacket before looping her arm around Rose’s and telling her, “Rosie, you had me at ‘mall’.  We’ll make an afternoon out of it, and we can even get those smoothies you like so much.  How does that sound?”

Fighting around the lump that crept into her throat, the blonde squeaked out, “Lovely!”

“Startastic!” Kristen cheered.  “Then let’s not waste a moment.  Allons-y!”

With that, the two vanished in a burst of blue and pink light as they teleported clear across town to their favorite mall.  Little did they suspect that they were being watched the entire time by a very familiar and very unfriendly face…

***

“Confound those super-twats!” cursed Lord Bubze, the master of the Cirque Demoniaque.  “Is there not a freak in our roster that can stop them?”

The impish man had watched the battle unfold with an increasing amount of scorn and disgust as yet another of the hellish freaks in his employ was destroyed.  He lurked in the Big Top his terrible troupe had planted at the bottom of Dead Man’s Gorge, always spying on the world above through a magnificent crystal ball and waiting for the opportunity to strike.  Time and again, he had tried to best the Superstar Force and claim their entire town for his soul-stealing schemes, but he always came up short in his evil efforts.  It made him so mad that he could eat his hat, were his hat not a portal to a pocket dimension that had no end.

“Minions, assemble!” he shrieked across the arena at his lieutenants.

One by one, his monstrous minions gathered before him.  Each was a force to be reckoned with and could destroy an army on their own, but they had all been humbled by the Superstars and longed for revenge.  They offered their own suggestions on how to best the teen team, but only when they were prompted to; with how often their schemes failed, no one wanted to be blamed for failure.  More often, they served as backup for whichever demon Bubze summoned to his side each week, where they were less likely to face destruction at the Superstars’ hands.

“What’s all the commotion, boss?” asked Sir Sath, a brutish strongman that resembled a gorilla in a leopard skin leotard.  He carried a two-ton dumbbell with him as though it was light as a baseball bat, and he could swing it like one too.

“We were working on a new combination that’s sure to put those punks down for the count,” assured Count Mon, an acrobatic bat that perched atop a pedestal alongside his brother, Count Mam.

Too lazy to stifle his yawn, the tattooed turtle known as Prince Abba told his master, “This is cutting into serious sleep time.”

“Ignore them, darling,” cooed Lady Mode, a scantily clad fortune teller who had the body of a supermodel but the head of a sheep.  “I want to hear every word you have to say!”

“Silence, you simpletons!” Bubze shrieked, stamping his foot on the ground and creating a shockwave that nearly knocked his servants down.  “I have to suffer through yet another failure at the hands of those meddling brats, and all you can talk about is sleeping and training?  I don’t know whether I wish my Belle was back or I was dead with her!”

The lieutenants all grew somber at the reminder of their fallen comrade.  Madame Belle had been Bubze’s wife and the fat lady of their troupe, and there was no one that fit that title better in this or any world.  Belle was so big that she could barely lift a finger and had to wheel herself around atop a tank to get anywhere; she was so large that the only way she could share a bed with her husband was if he slept on her belly while she took up the entire mattress.  Unfortunately, she had been the first to fall when they came to Earth, meeting her end when those teen terrors first put together the Star Cannon.  Since then, Bubze had been an absolute wreck who threw violent mood fits and focused so much on the Superstar Force that he refused to leave Devil’s Peak until they were all dead.

Case in point, the reviled ringmaster’s rage immediately gave way to forlorn sobbing as he fell to his knees and howled, “Belle, Belle, Belle!  Oh, my sweet butterball…my ham hock honey!  What I wouldn’t give to have you back here for one more day!”

The other members of the troupe turned away, save for Mode, who stroked her fuzzy chin as a thought came to her.  It was a devious plan that would require some of the darkest magics she could conjure, but if it was successful, it would cure not only her master’s depression but rid them of at least one Superstar.  All she needed to do was catch the Superstars when they were unaware…

***

At the Campbell Park Mall, Kristen and Rose had completely forgotten about the taxing battle they had just endured, just as planned.  Wandering around the mall and gossiping about this and that was a great way to take their minds off Superstar business; they almost felt like normal teens and not warriors caught up in a battle against demons.  The two girls laughed, tried on all sorts of clothes, and spent a good few minutes in massage chairs, disregarding any thoughts about evil monsters or devilish schemes.  For just a few minutes, they could be average American teenagers, and that was enough.

“God, it has been far too long since we did this,” Kristen hummed as she practically skipped through the mall, her arms full of bags.

“We were only here last weekend,” Rose giggled in reply, just as encumbered as the redhead.  While her allowance was nowhere close to Kristen’s, her crush was more than happy to help her buy anything that caught her fancy.

“Like I said, far too long,” Kristen retorted with a sly wink that made Rose’s heart flutter.  “Now, come on—I do believe I promised you a smoothie.”

Ever since starting this diet, Rose had cut out a good many of her favorite eateries in an effort to shed the pounds.  No more Surf Spot, no more Bulkmeier BBQ, and no more Karma Pizza, to name just a few delectable dens of sin.  That meant there was really only one place where the body-conscious blonde could get her fix, and that was Genelle’s, a small chain that operated around Devil’s Peak.  They had tons of delicious smoothies on the menu, and thankfully, they found a way to make even healthier options tasty.  Were it not for Genelle’s, Rose might have caved on her diet within the first week.

“What can I get for you ladies?” asked the clerk, a wiry brunette girl with a good few piercings all over her head and spectacles that could double as magnifying glasses.

“I’ll do a Vanilla Coffee Delight,” Kristen answered before turning to her friend.

“Could I get a Slim and Trim Strawberry?” asked Rose, who did her best not to lick her lips in front of the clerk.

“Coming right up,” the brunette replied as she got to work making the smoothies.

While the girls talked to each other, the clerk glanced over her shoulder with a malicious twinkle in her eye, which changed into a sheep’s eye for the briefest instant.  Lady Mode debated which of the two Superstars to exact her plan on, but the delicious irony of jinxing the diet-minded Rose was too delicious.  She turned back to the two drinks and poured a white powder into the Pink Superstar’s smoothie just before mixing it up in the blender.

“You won’t be slim and trim for long, Pinky,” the disguised fortune teller whispered, unheard over the roar of the blender.

Once the two smoothies were prepared and paid for, Kristen and Rose went off none the wiser to who had just served them.  Another customer attempted to order after them, but Lady Mode merely tossed away her Genelle’s cap and told him, “Sorry—on break.”

The enchantress quickly made her way to a restroom and hid herself in one of the stalls while she sought out the two Superstars with her mind’s eye.  She could see them walking out of the mall, sipping away at their smoothies without a care in the world, and Mode snickered under her breath.  It was almost too easy to get one over on them sometimes.

After taking a deep breath, the fortune teller clapped her hands together and twisted her fingers around in a series of complex movements as she muttered an incantation under her breath.  “Madame Belle, I call to you from the empty void beyond death.  Your bones, I have ground up and fed to the Pink Superstar so that you might claim her body as your own.  I have paved the way for you to return to life so you may exact your revenge on those miserable heroes.  Hear my call, Madame, and return to us!  M’leb hio e ag’k b’tf abra!”

When she completed her incantation, violet light shot out of Mode’s mouth and eyes with such intensity that she nearly toppled over, but she held the handicap rail for support.  She could feel something terrible course through her body before exiting her mouth in a cloud of smoke, and she knew that it could only be Madame Belle’s spirit.  The cloud passed through one of the walls as it sought out its prey, leaving Lady Mode to fall to her knees and gag once it passed through her.

“Welcome back, Madame Belle,” Mode hissed through her pain, “and goodbye, Rose Pillar…”

[Batman76]

So, a power rangers Wg is almost too ridiculous to believe...but I love it anyway.

[Cyril Figgis]

3 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

So, a power rangers Wg is almost too ridiculous to believe...but I love it anyway.

"Too Ridiculous to be Believed" could be the title for my memoirs.

[Cyril Figgis]

SUPERSTAR FORCE, PART 2

Rose nursed her smoothie for the remainder of her shopping spree with Kristen, only finishing it when they parted ways to go back home.  In that time, her appetite made itself known as her stomach growled like an angry dog, especially once she teleported outside her house.  The Pink Superstar put a hand to her flat stomach and winced when she felt a hunger pang shoot through her side like a cramp.  She had been hungry before, especially when she had starved herself in an effort to lose weight, but it had not felt this bad.

“Guess I should have had a snack after the fight,” the blonde reasoned, oblivious to the changes occurring inside her body and soul.

When she walked inside, Rose’s nose was hit by a wave of delectable aromas from the kitchen.  Her mother was whipping up a storm: pork tenderloin, crumpets, and grilled lettuce, not to mention the trifle that had been chilling in the fridge since that morning.  Maybe it was because she was hungry or that her diet was driving her crazy, but something about the smell of dinner made her heart flutter.

“Rosie, you’re just in time, love,” Leslie Pillar greeted her daughter as Rose all but floated into the kitchen.  “Be a dear and set the table, would you?”

“Yes, Mum,” Rose answered.  She dutifully pulled out the plates and silverware, but her eyes were on the tenderloin in the oven and the lettuce wedges grilling on the stove.  After giving her lips a quick swipe with her sleeve, she asked, “When are we eating?”

“Oh, it’ll still be a while yet,” her mother answered with a shake of the head.  “Your father forgot to take the pork out to thaw earlier, so it’s going to be a spell.  Probably enough time to get a quick wash in if you’d like.”

Rose shrugged and bit her lip as she replied, “Actually, I’m a little hungry.”

It had been a long time since Leslie heard those words coming from her daughter.  Poor Rosie had always been so worried about her figure, but it was taken to a whole new level when she moved to the States.  Thank God those new friends of hers had managed to talk her down from her direst body issues, or else they might not have been having this discussion.  To hear Rose admit that she was hungry was practically music to Leslie’s ears.

“You’ve probably got time for a little snack before we’re ready,” the matronly woman decided.  “I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

Rose gave a quick nod to her mother before flitting over to the pantry to see what caught her eye.  Perhaps it was a testament to how hungry she was, but everything inside the cupboard looked positively scrumptious—even her father’s digestive biscuits.  It took a moment of searching and she was so tempted to snatch up a greedy armful, but she settled on a bag of gingersnaps.  She had not had gingersnaps in forever, and in that moment, they were all she could think of—despite the fact that she used to hate the sharp taste.

“Thanks, Mum!” Rose chirped as she absconded with the cookies and waltzed up to her room.

Once she was in the privacy of her bedroom, the Pink Superstar took a seat in her desk chair and tore open the bag.  It took all of her effort to not just tip the bag to her lips and let the bite-size morsels fall past her waiting lips, but she managed to hold on and settle for cramming handfuls of the gingersnaps in.  Her eyelids fluttered as the ginger danced over her tongue and sent tingles down her spine, something she had never experienced with food before.  Such pleasure demanded more fuel, and so Rose continue to eat and eat until she heard her mother call up to her.

“Rosie!  Wash your hands and come on down!”

Like an alarm clock stirring a deep sleeper, her mom’s voice brought Rose to her attention, and she realized that she had eaten the entire bag of gingersnaps.  It was practically a whole bag too, with just a few plucked out off the top.  That should have been enough to make her sick, but for some reason, she only felt partially sated; though the hunger pangs had died down, she still felt like she had not eaten in hours.

“Maybe my body’s just catching up with me?” Rose pondered as she tossed the empty bag out.  “All that crazy dieting, and it’s finally starting to get back on track?  Sure…that must be it.”

It was that mindset that saw her wolf down her dinner, reasoning that everything would return to normal once she finished this meal; maybe then, she would finally be satiated.  Her parents were hardly concerned as well, far more willing to let Rose eat to her heart’s content than to rein her in.  If she was genuinely hungry for the first time in ages, it was better to let her enjoy herself.

“Another crumpet, dear?” asked her mother as she held up the plate of golden brown cakes.

“Yesh pleash,” the blonde mumbled through a mouthful of lettuce and pork.

“Got a couple more slices of tenderloin, Rosie,” her father, Tom, said as he got up from the table.  “Want me to grab them for you?”

Rose nodded around a gulp of milk before answering, “Thanks, Dad!”

Despite Rose hoovering up her dinner like a hungry beagle, it was a lovely dinner—one of the better ones in recent memory.  Unfortunately, it would also be the last one for a few days, as Tom and Leslie had to leave that weekend to go back across the pond to sort out some family business, which left Rose at home.  Try as she might, she could not convince them that she was old enough to take care of herself, even though she was going to graduate in a few months.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own?  We hate to leave you all by your lonesome,” Leslie sighed and put her head in her hand.

“Mum, I’ll be fine,” Rose insisted as she all but licked her plate clean.  “I can always call one of the girls and drop by their house if I’m feeling bored.  You don’t need to worry about me.”

“We’ll have to be out the door at the crack of dawn, but we’ll make sure everything’s taken care of for you,” informed Tom.  “And don’t worry—there’ll be plenty to eat, but we’ll leave you some money in case you want to get some takeout.”

Rose almost rolled her eyes at that, but she knew that her folks meant well.  She hummed, “Thanks, Dad—maybe I’ll grab some lunch with Kristen and Nicole over the weekend.  But I do believe we’ve got a trifle just waiting in the fridge?”

“Right you are, my love,” Leslie chirped.  “How much would you like?”

Even though she had already eaten an entire bag of gingersnaps, half a pork loin, five crumpets, and two wedges of lettuce, Rose still felt that rumble of hunger in her stomach.  She should have said no, but she found herself replying, “A healthy portion, Mum.  I’ve been so good on my diet; I deserve to treat myself tonight.”

***

By the time she went to bed, Rose had finished a quarter of the trifle all by herself and snuck a bag of chips upstairs to ostensibly give herself some energy while she did her homework—ignoring how little energy she would get from a bag of sour cream and onion chips.  All thoughts of homework went out the window when she opened up her laptop and the bag, as her mind immediately wandered to chatting with her friends and watching clips from old movies and TV shows.  She would assure herself that she was getting to her homework as soon as she finished the next video, but one video turned into another and another.  Before she knew it, her parents had turned off the lights downstairs and went to bed, and she had not even finished so much as a single math problem.

“What is going on?” the blonde wondered to herself.  “This isn’t just my appetite being funny; something is really, really weird here.  I need to figure this out…maybe with some brain food.”

Rose clapped her hands over her mouth as soon as the words left it.  Had she really just said that?  She had been eating almost nonstop since she got home; the last thing she needed was more food.  Before she could question further, her body jerked around like someone was controlling her with puppet strings and pointed her in the direction of the door.

“Just a little bit more should help,” Rose said aloud, though the panic in her eyes betrayed that sentiment.  She had no idea what was wrong with her, but more of anything was not going to help.

Nevertheless, her legs propelled her out her bedroom door and downstairs, staying quiet as a mouse as she unwillingly crept towards the kitchen.  With her body stuck on autopilot, she could only watch in mute horror as her hands opened the fridge and withdrew the trifle from within.  It was a beast of a dessert, with five layers of alternating strawberries, whipped cream, and vanilla custard; she used to love this as a chubby-cheeked child, but she could think of nothing more terrifying in that moment.

Rose tried to scream out and alert her parents, but whatever force compelled her to eat was keeping her silent through the entire ordeal.  The only sound that escaped her lips was a fleeting whimper before she stifled it with a handful of trifle.  No fork, no spoon—just a greedy grab, as if she were a toddler having cake for the first time.  It was an absolutely delicious trifle, but that was small consolation as she mashed handful after handful past her lips, smearing cream and custard on her pale cheeks and staining her fingers pink with strawberry juice.

By the time the Pink Superstar was finished, there was not a speck left in the dish; she made sure of that by licking it clean.  She leaned back against the kitchen counter and put a sticky hand to her belly, only to find that it was softer than she remembered.  Rose prodded her stomach again and confirmed that she truly had a belly now; while it was not as big as the pudgy potbelly that Nicole had sprouted, it was more than she was ever used to seeing on her figure.

“I can always work it off,” the blonde hummed, knowing full well that it would take weeks of hard work to lose these few inches.  “But that can wait till the morning.  Time for bed.”

***

If she thought that sleep would be a respite from whatever was happening to her, Rose was sorely mistaken.  Her sleep was fitful and unpleasant, as her body heaved itself out of bed time and again to sneak downstairs for more food than she normally ate in a whole day.  By the time she finally blacked out, just as her parents were leaving, the Pink Superstar had eaten enough to last her the week.  She made a promise to herself to try and find a solution when she woke up, assuming she could get control of her body back.

By the time Rose did wake up again, she found that she was already wide awake and talking into the house phone.  That was not the most startling revelation though, as that was reserved for the fact that she was talking in her mother’s voice.  She could hear herself telling the person on the other end, “And so, I’m dreadfully sorry, but I’m afraid my Rosie won’t be able to come in today.  Yes, of course I’ll send over a note as soon as I can.  Thank you ever so much, Ms. Ratteree.”

Ms. Ratteree…that was the school secretary.  Had she just called the school to tell them that she was going to be absent?  That question and dozens more raced through her head, but they were all dashed when she turned to look at herself in the mirror hanging from her door.  Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head when she saw that the little weight she had put on in the night had grown into a far bigger problem.  And to think, she thought she was fat before…

The little pooch in her stomach had ballooned into a squishy mound of flab that flopped over the waistband of her pale pink pajama pants and peeked out from her shirt no matter how much she tugged.  Part of the problem came from how bulbous her belly had gotten, but there was also the matter of her breasts swelling up to the point that even Kristen would be jealous.  Rose would have winced at how tight her bra had become around her plump melons and softened shoulders, but even her facial muscles refused to cooperate.  All she could do was watch as her hands explored the curves that had sprouted all over her body.

“Not a bad start,” she heard herself say, though there was something off about her voice.  Almost like it was gummed up.  “But the day is still young, and without school in the way, we can do a lot more catching up!”

Rose’s hands ran down her hips, and she shivered when she felt just how wide she had become overnight.  She had been concerned about her thighs when she used to swim competitively, but she was a twig compared to the way her legs strained her pajamas.  Knowing that they were touching halfway to her knee, and that she had wobbly saddlebags to accompany them, would have made the Pink Superstar hyperventilate if she still had control of her body.  Whatever force was controlling her did not seem to mind though—far from it, in fact.

Her deeper voice warbled as she bounced her belly flab in her hands and remarked, “Oh, how I’ve missed this so much.  I thought I would never get to feel blubber again, but look at how much belly jelly I’ve got now!  A nice, hearty breakfast, and I should be waddling by noon!”

Waddling!  The thought alone made Rose want to retch; she would rather be caught dead than waddle anywhere.  What would everyone at school think?  ‘There goes Round Rosie—what a butterball she’s become!’  It was bad enough she was so tall and had a little gap in her front teeth; she did not need ‘fat’ to be added to her list of problems.

“Oh, come now, Rosie,” the blonde heard herself say.  “Would that truly be so bad?”

The Pink Superstar turned her attention back to her reflection and found that her mirror image’s facial expression had changed to what she felt on the inside—terrified and hopelessly confused.  That changed in an instant, when her face contorted into a contemptuous sneer that made her blood run cold.  She had been afraid of looking in the mirror before, but never like this; her reflection looked like a completely different person.

“Think about it,” her reflection purred, “you’d get to eat whatever you want whenever you want, and you’d have far too much presence for people to just walk all over you.  No more being a doormat for you, my dear!”

Rose whimpered, “Wh-Whatever you are, get out of my head!”

Her twisted reflection merely laughed at her panic and replied, “You can’t tell me the thought isn’t intriguing, Rosie.  Now that I’ve taken up occupancy here, I’m finding out all sorts of juicy little tidbits about yourself; I can’t believe you still feel bad about stealing that chocolate bar when you were six!  And I knew that you were sweet for the Blue Superbrat, but I didn’t know you had it that bad!”

“Shut up, shut up!” the abashed blonde sobbed.

“But you poor dear…so many bad thoughts about your body.  You really can’t get past those nasty little twats teasing you in the schoolyard, can you?  Every time you see yourself in the mirror, all you see is that cherubic little girl who ate her lunch alone just to avoid the teasing.  Such a terrible pity,” her reflection cooed like a consoling mother.

She raised her hand to gently stroke her hair out of her face and wipe the tears brimming at her eyes.  “You are such a beautiful girl, Rose; you just won’t admit it.  But never you fear, for now that I’m here, I’m going to help you reach your true potential.”

“P-Please,” Rose choked out around a lump in her throat, “please don’t make me fatter.”

“Hush, my little superstar,” her voice replied in a warm, matronly tone.  “Don’t think of this as a punishment or torture.  Think of this as a beginning—the beginning of a new you who will stand above all the rest.  You’ll be so big, so powerful, that no one will ever dare make fun of you again.”

That soothing tone was lost in the next few words as her eyes changed from a warm hazel to an icy blue.  Her sinister reflection sneered, “Just let Madame Bell take care of you.”

Rose would have screamed if she had the power, but she lost control of her body once more and was forced back to being a passenger in her own mind.  Of all the beings to possess her, why did it have to be Madame Belle?  That blob of a woman had nearly been the death of the Superstars, and it took the team discovering the Superstar Cannon to take her down.  She was an absolute bully who threw her weight around to get what she wanted, and considering that she was bedridden by her copious flab, she had plenty to throw around.

“Now, seeing as we have the day off from school, I figure that we can use this opportunity to get started on bulking you up,” Madame Belle chuckled.  “What say you and I swing through town and get a little sampling of fast food—say, one from each of the big chains?  And by the time we get through with that, it’ll be time for lunch!  Oh, we’re going to have so much fun, Rosie—just you wait!”

[Guest ratetankmark]

Holy shit, man, this was really good and I just kinda feel genuinely quite sorry for Rose by the end, like, it shows a darker side to what we all love and I kinda appreciate that you've gone that route, but I just love how almost Annie Wilkes from Misery-esque Madame Belle seemed, I'm genuinely really looking forward to seeing how this goes! Great work, man.

[Cyril Figgis]

SUPERSTAR FORCE, PART 3

Riding shotgun in her own body was a surreal sensation for Rose; were it not for her senses still registering to her, she might have thought she was dreaming.  Unfortunately for the beleaguered Brit, she was all too conscious of what was happening to her body as Madame Belle drove around town and scarfed down breakfast foods from a dozen different diners.  She had never seen so many biscuits, eggs, and sausages in her life, yet the gluttonous spirit inside her gobbled up everything without a second thought.  If Rose had hoped that her stomach’s capacity would help her keep from eating too much, she was sorely mistaken, as Belle’s demonic appetite knew no bounds.

“I swear, the marvels you mortals can do never ceases to amaze me,” the haughty demon chortled before she ate half a chicken biscuit in one bite.  “It’s almost a shame that we have to steal your souls—then again, I suppose you could always cook in the Netherworld for us!”

Rose whimpered as she felt yet another greasy breakfast go down her gullet.  After denying herself of so much over the last several weeks, she had craved something to break up the monotony, but not like this.  All the food sat like a bowling ball in her belly, and the frothy iced coffees that Belle ordered with every meal did not help.  She had eaten an ungodly amount of calories, more than her recommended weekly amount, and it was not even noon.

“Look at this, Rosie!  We’ve got ourselves a nice little belly going,” Belle cooed once she tossed an empty bowl of cheesy grits into the backseat.  The demon slid her hand under Rose’s belly and bounced it in her hands like a water balloon, sloshing it about before sinking her fingers into the doughy mass.  “I haven’t been able to touch my stomach since the fall of Babylon!  If I had known how good it felt to bulk up all over again, I’d have had my Sweetie Bubz shrink me down every few centuries.”

There was no telling which was worse for the Pink Superstar: watching herself get fatter with each new dish without being able to look away, feeling her clothes tighten around her softening form, or Belle groping the increasing amount of flab.  Ultimately, the worst part was that she could do nothing to stop it; she could not even shut her eyes or turn away from the sickening spectacle.  Rose felt like she was tied to a chair and had her eyes pried open, Ludovico-style.

“Please,” she whimpered when Belle looked in the rearview mirror, “I’m so fat now, the seatbelt is biting into me!  You need to stop eating!”

“Aw, sweetie, that’s just a sign that we’re on the right track,” the demon hummed.  Her voice was getting deeper and thicker, like her throat was full of gunk.  “And if you think that we’re big now, just wait until we get wide that the seatbelt won’t even reach around us!”

Rose did not want to wait for that; what she wanted was to jump in front of a moving train.  Her gut, for it was so rotund and blobby that it could be described as nothing else, sat heavily on her lap and slid closer towards her knees as the mountain of calories were digested.  Whether it was because the gargantuan belly had grown too large for it or Belle simply did not care, her shirt had slid up to under her chest and left almost all of her stomach on display.  Worse still, she could feel her sweatpants biting into her tender hips and creating flabby love handles that brushed against the arm rest and door.

After Madame Belle licked away the syrup residue around Rose’s lips, she purred, “Honestly, I don’t know what you’re complaining about, Rosie—I think you’ve never looked better!  There’s so much more of you to love, and all this love chub is doing wonders for your complexion.  Just take a look at how far we’ve come this morning alone!”

It was impossible for Rose to ignore the changes taking place with her body, but the mention of her complexion made her realize something was very, very wrong indeed.  When she glanced in the mirror again, she discovered that her fair skin was turning a pale shade of pink, as if she had been out in the sun for too long.  Her eyes darted down to her hands as they kneaded her blubbery belly, and she found that there was something off about her nails—they were darker than she remembered.

“What’s happening to me?” she choked out before Belle silenced her with a long gulp of coffee.

“We’re changing, you and I,” the demon replied as she pulled out of the parking lot and made her way to the next restaurant.  “You think I want to be stuck in your mere body?  It’s hardly becoming of a duchess of the Netherworld!  No, we can do better.  By the time I’m through with you, there won’t be a shred of you left in this body; when people look at you, they’ll only see my beauteous body.”

That thought chilled Rose to the core.  She had been in some sticky situations since becoming a Superstar—turning into a chalk drawing, growing giant, and getting sucked into a board game, to name a just a few—but nothing quite this horrific.  If she could not find a way out of this, she could be lost forever, and this sadistic sow would commit all kinds of atrocities in her body!  Rose’s resolve was strengthened in that moment, and for a brief instant, she felt in control of her body once more.

“I’m not letting you do this!” the Pink Superstar shrieked.  “You can’t have my body!”

She slammed her foot down on the brake and yanked the wheel to the right as hard as she could, swerving her little car into a gas station parking lot much to the angry surprise of the people behind her.  Rose was too concerned about her fate though, and she quickly snatched up her phone to send a message to her friends, only for her hands to freeze up when she started texting.

“You daft little girl,” Belle growled out the side of her mouth.  “What do you hope to accomplish?  You could barely beat me when I was alive; what hope do you have when I am an unstoppable spirit?  You’re a weak, lily-livered coward!”

Rose asserted her control and slapped herself across the face.  “No!  I beat you once before, and I can do it again.  You are not stronger than me!”

Madame Belle snarled at the Pink Superstar before her lips turned up in a sickening sneer.  Her growls gave way to sinister chuckling as she asked, “Shall we put that to the test?”

Before Rose could argue, Belle dropped her phone to the floor and stumbled out of the car with all the grace of a ** on St. Patrick’s Day.  The blonde tried to maintain a hold of her body, but her efforts only succeeded in making Belle’s walk clumsy and awkward.  Her herky-jerky body fumbled into gas station, with her arms swinging about wildly and her legs wobbling like noodles, much to the confusion of the clerk and customers inside.

“Um…ma’am, are you okay?” asked the befuddled clerk.

Belle spun about and glowered at the onlookers with her piercing blue eyes, freezing them in place before grunting derisively, “Never better.”

With that, she locked the doors to the store and slowly made her way back to the snack aisle.  The demoness purred, “I wonder if they have your favorites here, Rosie?  I know you can’t resist those yummy sour gummy worms.”

It was true: Rose’s greatest culinary weakness were sour candies, especially gummy worms; she could eat them until her teeth crumbled to dust.  They had been the hardest thing to give up when she went on her diet, but she knew that, of everything she enjoyed, they were the ones she needed to cut out the most.  It had been so long since she had any, but Belle had already done so much to ruin her diet and figure, to the point that it would take months to burn this off.  She refused to give the nightmarish woman any more fuel, even if it was her favorite food.

“You can’t make me eat,” Rose assured her unwanted companion. “I won’t let you do whatever you want anymore.”

Belle merely scoffed in reply.  “You talk a big game, but I know the truth about you Rosie; sharing the same headspace really helps in that sense.  You might be a Superstar, but you’re just a shrinking violet at heart—a shivering shadow that needs someone to cling to.  Sure, you’re strong when your friends are around, but on your own?  You’re pathetic.”

At last, the gluttonous demon found her quarry and ripped a bag of sour gummy worms from the shelf.  She tore into the bag and dumped a few into a trembling hand that Rose desperately tried to close or shove in her pockets, but she had far less control than she hoped.  Belle held them up and took a whiff of the candies before sighing blissfully sighing and bouncing them in her palm.

“Isn’t that just a wonderful aroma?  That cloying sugar, the fake fruit flavoring…it’s enough to make a girl sick with desire,” she moaned, her thick thighs rubbing together heatedly.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Rose croaked as she tried to get rid of the candies in her hand.  “You can’t make me eat these!  You think you can just put food in front of me and I’ll eat it like some kind of pig?  I’ve got willpower!”

“Only when you have that big-tit bitch around,” Belle sneered.  “I remember when you first started off: this cowardly little wallflower who let everyone walk over her until the Blue Superboob deigned to talk with you.  Ever since then, you’ve been following her around like a little puppy; I’m surprised you don’t whimper whenever she leaves the room.”

Rose felt her blood boiling at the fiend’s mockery, and her pink cheeks turned a scarlet red.  She hated having her fondness for Kristen turned into a weapon against her, as the mean girls in class had done.  But that anger was accompanied by a hesitance that grew into meekness, knowing that there was some truth to the taunt.  It was Kristen who backed her up whenever she was feeling down and needed help, even more than the other Superstars.  Were it not for the redhead’s affection, Rose had no idea where she would be.

That moment of weakness was all Belle needed to assert control again, and she celebrated her victory by cramming the handful of gummy worms in her mouth.  This was followed by tipping the bag to her lips and dumping half past her lips.  Rose’s tongue tingled with the sour flavor that washed over it, but she could not deny that a part of her was enjoying this—that scared her the most.

“You see?  You’re pathetic,” Belle taunted the captive Superstar before finishing off the bag.  “Without your friends to save you, you’re about as strong as a house of cards.  If you were the only hope Devil’s Peak had, we would have conquered this town months ago.”

“No…no, I’m not,” Rose protested weakly, though only from the confines of her own mind.

“Yes, you are,” the demoness cackled as she moved onto another bag.  “Little Rosie is nothing but a meek little coward, too weak to save herself.  Just give in, girly, and at least your end will be delicious; your resistance will only give me indigestion.”

Rose tried again and again to force her way out of the mental prison she found herself in, but it was like trying to break down a brick wall with her bare hands.  All she could do was watch helplessly as Madame Belle emptied a dozen bags of sour gummy worms down her gullet, and then move on to the next batch of candies.  Her resistance soon faded into hopelessness, as she allowed her thoughts to spiral into despair.  Belle had been right all along: she was too weak to fight someone from the Cirque Demoniaque on her own; she was just a pathetic excuse of a hero.

Feeling her host’s spirit sink into misery, Madame Belle let out a haughty laugh that made her bloated belly ripple.  “Glad you’re finally seeing things my way, Rosie!  Now, you just sit back and watch the show like a good little girl.  It will all be over soon.”

Now that her opposition had crumbled, the demonic fat woman had carte blanche to do whatever she wanted and was ready to abuse that freedom to her heart’s content.  Belle left a pile of wrappers behind her as she tore into bags of candy, chocolate bars, and potato chips, all to fill the black hole that she had in her stomach.  Gleeful snorts erupted from her mouth while she stuffed her chubby cheeks full of sweets, and these snorts became more porcine as she moved onto the snack cakes.

Her unbridled appetite allowed her to digest food at an impossibly fast pace, converting the metric ton of calories into buttery fat that quickly accumulated on Rose’s body.  The t-shirt that had once been modest on the blonde had grown so tight that seams split under her flabby arms and around her chest.  Her gut ballooned up and out, creating a glob of pink blubber that drooped over Rose’s crotch and stuck out so far that she needed to give herself a wide berth.  Fine hips exploded outwards and threatened to tear through the waistband of her sweatpants—a true testament to how big she had become.  If her waistband would not give out, the seat of her pants surely would, as the material was stretched so thin that it was nearly see-through.

“Yes, yes, yes!  I’m feeling like my old self again!” Belle cheered as she ran her hands over the expanse of her stomach.  “Oh, sweet blubber…how I’ve missed you.  You’re still so meager, but don’t you worry—Mama’s going to take care of you.  Just look at how far you’ve come!”

Belle turned to look at her reflection in one of the windows of the cooler, and Rose felt her heart sink even lower, if that were possible.  The blob of a woman that looked back at her was practically unrecognizable, even though they shared the same haircut and face.  Worst of all was that the more Belle ate, the more her body transformed into her visage and became more porcine.  Her nose had been forced upwards and flattened into a snout, and her ears had shifted further up until they sat atop her head and turned into floppy triangles.  After the demon inside her scarfed down an apple fritter, she felt a prickle in the small of her back that grew into a swelling until she heard a tear in the back of her sweatpants.

“Look, Rosie!  A tail!” Belle squealed giddily as she turned to show her profile in the reflection.

Sure enough, a corkscrew tail had burst out the seat of her pants and waggled happily as Belle chased down the fritter with a massive bottle of soda.  Rose winced as she heard the rip in her pants expand until it came to a stop at the bottom, leaving her panties completely exposed.  She just hoped that the mesmerized audience would not be able to remember what they had seen, or else she would die from mortification.

After downing the entire bottle, Belle tossed the refuse aside and let out a massive belch.  She glanced around at the trash she had left scattered around the store and smiled at her work, having cleaned out the shelves, and her body certainly showed the effects.  But there was still so much more she wanted to eat, and the day was still young.

“I think I’ve had my fun for now,” the porcine demon snorted as she waddled through the ocean of wrappers.  “What are you thinking for lunch, Rosie?  I could go for Mexican, but Chinese sounds delicious right now.  Do you know any good Italian places?”

When she heard no reply from the little voice inside her head, Madame Belle chuckled grimly and answered her own question, “Actually, why don’t I get all three?  I’ve got some serious bulking up to do, after all.  Time’s a-wasting, and so am I, so let’s allons-y!”

Deep within the confines of her mind, Rose had curled up into a ball and sobbed into her knees.  She had never felt so weak and frightened before, not even under the harshest torment from her schoolyard bullies.  Her powers as a Superstar could not help her now, not when she could not control her own body; she could only watch as her body transformed into something unrecognizable.

“Kristen…help me,” she whimpered to herself.  “Please, please…help me…”

***

While Madame Belle continued to expand as her strength returned, Kristen Tanner twiddled with her pen and ignored everything the teacher said.  Her mind was a miles away, thinking about her closest friend at school and how she was holding up.  Rose had sent her a text earlier in the morning to let her know that she was not feeling well and would be staying home, but something about the message seemed off to Kristen.  The Pink Superstar often used emojis throughout her messages and tended to prattle, but this was terse and unresponsive.

When class let out, Nicole, who sat beside Kristen, asked, “Nervous about Rose?”

“Yeah,” the Blue Superstar replied.  “I’ve tried texting her and calling her, but nothing.  Do you think I’m overreacting?  I just have this bad feeling in my stomach.”

“You think this might be demon shenanigans?  We already had Master Roth check for any disturbances, and nothing,” Nicole assured her friend.  “She might just have the cold and not want to go into detail about it—you know how Rose can clam up sometimes.”

That was certainly true, but there was something else that Kristen could not put her finger on.  She would hate herself if something had happened to Rose and she did nothing, so she asked the Yellow Superstar, “Do you want to come say hi with me after school?  I just…I want to make sure she’s okay.”

“Of course,” the Latina replied.  “What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t?  And maybe this will earn you a few points in her book.”

Kristen blushed at the teasing and bumped her friend in the hip.  “Oh, hush.  Like you wouldn’t try to help your crush if you had one.”

[Batman76]

Damn man, this one is a hell of a ride!

 

[Cyril Figgis]

1 hour ago, Batman76 said:

Damn man, this one is a hell of a ride!

 

It's like the Magic School Bus: a wilder ride.

[Cyril Figgis]

SUPERSTAR FORCE, PART 4

Once school let out, Kristen made her way home with Nicole in tow to put together something nice for Rose—a ** of hotroot soup, a staple of the Tanner household on sick days.  As the spicy shrimp soup simmered away, the redhead proudly boasted, “If this doesn’t cure Rose’s cold, nothing will!”

“That smells so good, I might just have to catch something so you can make it for me,” Nicole remarked with a lick of lips as she caught a whiff of the spicy seafood soup.  She tried to get a spoonful while Kristen had her back turned, only for the chesty girl to turn around and lightly slap her wrist.

“This soup is for Rose, so she gets first dibs,” the Blue Superstar reminded her friend.

“I’m just getting a little taste!  I need to make sure you didn’t slip in any love potion or something weird,” the stout Yellow Superstar teased.  When her taunt elicited a blush from Kristen, the portly rugby player told her, “Oh, relax—I’m just kidding.  I think this is super sweet, and Rose is absolutely going to love this.  Heck, I think I might fall for you if you cook this good!”

“You only say that because you can’t cook to save your life,” Kristen retorted, though softer after Nicole’s playful jab. 

She could not help falling for Rose Pillar—how could anyone, when they saw the adorable blonde laugh and smile?  Though she was meek as a mouse, the Pink Superstar was one of the most genuine people Kristen had ever known, and that feeling only grew as they spent more time together.  She had trouble admitting it, despite being so confident ordinarily, but she would keep trying to find the courage to say something to Rose.  Not today, of course—after all, what if she hated the soup or burnt her tongue?  That would ruin the entire moment, not to mention giving Nicole more teasing fodder.

It took a couple hours for the soup to be ready, but by sundown, it was ready to serve and the girls were on their way.  Teleporting was the quickest route to Rose’s, but after the Whopper Incident, the team had discovered that carrying food while teleporting was a bad idea.  Thankfully, Kristen’s family had a fleet of cars ripe for the picking, so they could at least arrive in style.  Much to Nicole’s dismay though, her rich friend opted for a modest Mini Cooper rather than one of five sports cars.

When the girls pulled up to Rose’s house a short while later, they noticed something odd in front of the small ranch house.  There were a number of cars parked in the driveway and in front of the house—all of them delivery vehicles from various restaurants around town.  Pizza parlors, sandwich shops, Chinese takeout, and more were all mingling around Rose’s house, their drivers crowding around the door like a horde of zombies.

“What is going on here?” Kristen mumbled as she parked behind a driver for PT’s.  “Did someone send a bunch of prank orders here again?”

“I swear, if Natasha Patterson is giving her crap again, I’ll bust her face in on Monday,” Nicole growled as she cracked her knuckles in anticipation.

As the Superstars got out of the car, they heard Rose’s door open and turned to see a sight so bizarre that Kristen dropped her tub of soup on the ground.  There in the doorway was their friend, albeit radically different than the last time they had seen her.  Rose had sprouted pig ears and her nose had turned into a porcine snout, and she even greeted these perfect strangers in her Pink Superstar uniform, but that was not the weirdest part.  The woman standing at her threshold was a towering blob of a woman that was so wide, she could not squeeze through the doorframe.

Rose’s head was so full of fat that it was round as a ball, and the collar of her uniform created a muffin top of flab where her neck would be.  Even if her neck was not hidden by four chins of fat, it would have vanished in the thick flab that coated her shoulders.  This led to bulbous arms that were wider than her thighs used to be, followed by thick forearms and pudgy hands that stretched her gloves to their limits.  Her breasts, once petite and dainty handfuls, had bloated into jiggly sacks of lard that only defied gravity thanks to being vacuum-packed into her neon pink suit.

During her most recent bout with dysmorphia, Rose often complained about how big her stomach was getting, even when there was hardly anything there.  Now, her concave stomach was buried under an avalanche of pudge that started under her breasts and billowed out into a globe that jutted out a good foot or two from her body.  It was bisected into two distinct rolls by a belt that creaked and visibly shook as it held back the tidal wave of blubber.  These thick rolls joined with Rose’s hips to make her seem round enough to roll, should she fall to the ground.

Rose had been delighted to see that her uniform came with a skirt when she first transformed into the Pink Superstar, but that skirt was on its last legs thanks to the heroine’s commanding hips and her monstrous thighs.  Stitches popped and strained all along the fabric that was normally impervious to harm, and the damaged garment all but rested atop her flabby lower body like a pink doily.  Her thighs were as big around as tires, and while Rose had once worried about having no thigh gap, her legs had grown so thick that they rubbed together clear to the calf.  There was not an inch of her body that was not full of flab, but the body conscious girl seemed completely oblivious to it.

“Oh, thank Nasta, you’re all here!  I thought I was going to starve to death,” Rose laughed in a voice deepened by the fat around her neck.  “Bring it into the kitchen, darlings, and then see yourselves off.  If you want a tip, it’s this—get a better job!”

Kristen and Nicole watched in stunned silence as Rose waddled back into the house, beanbag chair-sized cheeks bouncing underneath a curly tail.  The dazed delivery people shuffled into the house with arms full of bags and boxes, only to leave moments later empty-handed.  The two Superstars managed to pick their jaws off the sidewalk after a spell and looked to each other with deep concern.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Nicole.

“Cirque Demoniaque’s up to no good?” Kristen retorted as she clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white.  How dare they go after Rose!

The Yellow Superstar nodded.  “Definitely.  Let’s check this out—if we see any Fleacers, we’ll call the others for backup.”

With that, the girls dashed up to the house and ducked inside right after the last delivery person left.  Kristen silently shut the door behind them while Nicole crept down the hall to the kitchen, where both could hear the sound of ravenous eating.  The two Superstars paused at the doorway leading to the kitchen and gawked at the display of gluttony that lay before them.

Rose, or the pig that resembled Rose, was scarfing down meals that could feed a family of four without batting an eye.  She tore through a footlong sandwich with ease, plowed through a box of General Tso’s chicken like it was nothing, and even shotgunned a whole pizza by rolling it into a tube and unhinging her jaws.  It was absolutely revolting as sauce accumulated on her lips and grease dribbled onto her uniform, but the Pink Superstar did not seem to care.  If anything, she reveled in her gluttony, letting out piggish squeals of delight after each meal consumed.

“Food, glorious food!  Oh, how I have missed you,” Rose sang between bites, her chins rippling like water.  “What shall I have next—tacos, shrimp, or beef stew?”

Before Kristen could stop her, Nicole burst into the kitchen and growled, “The only thing you’re having next is a knuckle sandwich if you don’t tell us where Rose is!”

The piggish Pink Superstar turned to her mealtime intruders and swallowed a mouthful of sesame chicken before remarking, “Oh good, I was wondering when you Superpunks would get here.  Come a little closer—it’s been far too long since I’ve seen you both, but just look at you!  You might need to start putting in more time at the gym, Yellowbelly, or you might start looking like me.”

Her piercing blue eyes turned to Kristen and she licked her lips as she hummed, “And you, Little Rich Girl…gone up another cup size, have you?  I can see why Rosie likes you so much, even if you are a bit thin for my liking.”

“We’re not asking twice,” the Blue Superstar seethed.  “Tell us where Rose is right now, or we’re going to send you back to the Netherworld.”

“Why, you’re looking at her,” the imposter replied in between sucking sauce from her gloved fingers.  “Mind you, I’ve made a few adjustments since I took over her body, but I rather like them.  They make me feel much like my old, beautiful self again!”

It took the two heroines a moment to realize who they were dealing with, but when it hit, they felt their hearts sink like stones.  Of all the villains to come back, why did it have to be Madame Belle?  Despite being too fat to even lift a finger, the porcine demon had proved a tremendously difficult opponent; now that she had taken over Rose’s body, there was no telling what she was capable of.  On top of that, they had no idea between them of how to handle her like this without hurting their friend.  They could not simply turn their blasters on her, after all.

“By now, you’re probably realizing that you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place,” Madame Belle hummed contentedly.  She paused to stick a chicken wing in her mouth and pull a cleaned bone out a second later before continuing, “You don’t want to hurt poor little Rose, but how are you going to stop me otherwise?  Such a conundrum.”

“I’ve always been an ‘ask permission, not forgiveness’ type of gal,” Nicole retorted as she lunged for the fattened fiend, only to be caught in a ring of blue light.

Madame Belle clicked her tongue in mock sympathy as she chided the Yellow Superstar, “Oh, you poor silly billy…did you forget?  When my worthless muscles atrophied, I made sure my mind was more powerful than any other!  With a single thought, I could crush you like a bug or burn you to a crisp—there’s nothing I can’t do!”

Nicole squirmed about in the air, frozen in place and bound with her arms at her side, as she grunted, “Except put the fork down, apparently.”

“Don’t forget the spoon,” Madame Belle sneered before throwing Nicole clear into the living room, leaving her with Kristen.  “But what to do with you, My Little Pony?”

Kristen wracked her brain for a solution to this problem she found herself in.  Brute strength would not work against a demon who could use her mind to move mountains, and she did not want to risk attacking Rose if she was still somewhere underneath all that lard.  If Rose was still under there…

“That’s it!” the redhead declared with a snap of her fingers.  She stared deep into Madame Belle’s icy eyes and cried out, “Rose, I know you’re still in there somewhere—Madame Slob couldn’t summon your Super Suit without you.  I need you to show her what a Superstar is made of, Rose!  Don’t let her think she’s won!”

The demoness let out a haughty belly laugh and taunted, “You’ll never get through to Pinky now, Superstar!  She’s too busy feeling sorry for herself and crying in a little corner of her mind.  I’m already in charge, and it’s only a matter of time until her soul fades into nothing.”

Refusing to accept such a fate for someone so dear to her, the Blue Superstar boldly stepped forward, an azure glow forming around her as her own suit appeared over her clothes.  Kristen continued to speak to the girl trapped inside her own body, telling Rose, “You are stronger than any of us, Rose—me, Nicole, even Trevor.  Even after everything we’ve been through, you’ve never once given up, no matter how bleak things have gotten!”

Unmoved by the display, Madame Belle shoved an entire chalupa in her mouth while she used her other hand to freeze Kristen in place.  The redhead gritted her teeth but persisted, crying out, “I can’t lose you, Rose!  You are the sweetest, funniest, and kindest person I’ve ever known.  You always pick me up when I’m feeling down, and you help me feel like I belong.  I don’t know how I could go on without you in my life!  Rose, I…I love you!”

***

Deep inside the recesses of her mind, Rose waited for the inevitable as she withered like a flower without sun or water.  She had tuned out the world when Belle began calling various restaurants and placing countless orders, so much so that she did not even register when the demon used her Super Suit to become mobile again.  The arrival of Nicole and Kristen had provided the briefest glimmer of hope, but that was dashed when Nicole was thrown across the room like a rag doll and Kristen was frozen in place.  She resigned herself to fading into nothing, but perked back up when those three words echoed into her weary subconscious.

“I love you” bounced around in Rose’s brain, and the blonde peered through her eyes again to see Kristen held back but radiating Star Power.  Kristen Tanner was the coolest girl Rose knew, and she loved her of all people?  Hearing those words again and again stoked the embers in her soul, raising them into a fire that grew and grew until she felt ready to burst.  She refused to be digested like just another meal, not when she knew that Kristen felt the same things that she did.

“I love you too, Kristen!” Rose cried out with all her heart.

***

Madame Belle chortled at the declaration and snorted, “Hate to tell you this, but you’re just wasting your breath, Supersnot.  There’s no more Rose to be found in here—just memories of a life long gone!   As soon as I finish this feast, I’ll regain my lovely appearance, and then every last shred of Rose will be no—hic!”

The demoness put a fat fist to her lips as she stifled a belch while her other hand went to her roiling stomach.  This was not right: she had eaten for hundreds of thousands of years, and not once did she get indigestion.  She struggled to come up with an answer, only to hiccup again and let out a puff of pink smoke from her mouth.  Her eyes went wide and flickered from blue to hazel and back again, and her lips flapped like a fish out of water.

“No…no, this can’t be,” she croaked before another hiccup released more smoke.  Her nose wiggled about and her ears flapped wildly as she squealed, “No, you’re beaten!  Stay down, you worthless, insignificant wretch!  You’re beaten, don’t you get it?!”

In spite of Madame Belle’s threats, still more smoke billowed out of her lips and her eyes rapidly warped from one color to another.  A pink aura appeared around her flabby body, starting first as a faint glimmer before growing until it became so brilliant that Kristen had to shut her eyes.  All she could hear was Belle squealing like a terrified pig for a brief moment before the room went silent again and the light faded.  When she dared to open her eyes again, she saw Rose seated at the kitchen table, her fat gut swelling in and out as she caught her breath.

“Rose?  Is…is that really you?” asked the Blue Superstar as she took off her helmet.  It sure looked like Rose, give or take a few hundred pounds, though she had lost her porcine features.

The blubbery blonde gave a tired nod as she slumped in the two chairs Belle had been using to hold up her girth.  She took a few deep breaths and fanned herself before answering, “It’s me…all of five hundred pounds of—oof!”

In the blink of an eye, Kristen tackled Rose in the best hug she could manage, ignoring how she was unable to reach around her.  Hot tears streamed down her freckled cheeks as the redhead sobbed, “Oh my gawd, I was so scared!  Are you okay?  Did she hurt you?  Did she make you do anything terrible?  Did she make you kiss Bubze?”

“N-No,” Rose mumbled, squirming in Kristen’s grasp before settling into the hug and returning it.  Their lights mixed into a lavender glow as she replied, “There’s nothing hurt but my pride…and maybe my car’s suspension.  What about you?”

“Who cares about me?” asked Kristen as she pulled back and wiped the tears from her eyes.  She stroked one of Rose’s chubby cheeks and told her, “What matters most is that you’re here, you’re safe, and Belle is gone—hopefully for good.”

The blonde leaned into the touch before biting her lip and asking, “I know there’s a lot we’ll need to talk about, but…you love me?  Really?”

“Really, really,” the Blue Superstar hummed as she leaned into Rose, nestling her thin body against her friend’s bountiful frame.  “I meant every word I said.”

Rose fumbled for an answer, but just before she could reply, Nicole burst into the room and asked, “Where is she?!  I’ll make porkchop sandwiches out of that oinker!”

The two Superstars at the table shared a knowing glance before Kristen gestured for Nicole to come join them.  There was much Rose and Kristen would need to discuss, but that could wait until they had a chance to relax, especially since they had a whole weekend of weight loss ahead…

[Cyril Figgis]

Hey everyone!  I hope your weekend is off to a great start.  I wanted to take this opportunity to thank everybody that's commented on and read the new version of Capes and Cuisines.  It's been a lot of fun to work on these over the last year, developing a whole superhero universe full of WG potential and coming up with plenty of fun characters.  I'm so glad that people have enjoyed these as much as I have, and that's why I want to do something a little special to wrap up this year.

Since February 2020, I've averaged a chapter each week, but it's time to move on to new projects.  After the next arc, I'm going to be updating C&C semi-regularly, alternating between it and other short stories.  Therefore, I want to give you, my lovely readers, the choice to decide on whose story should be continued as the last arc for these regular posts.

Do you want to see the ever-opportunistic Guardiana try and take the easy way out of losing weight?  Do you want to see how far Fang can fall down the bimbo hole?  Maybe you'd like to see Coyote actually get fat?  The choice is yours!  A poll has been added to the thread--cast your vote between now and 10 PM tomorrow evening.

(And if your pick doesn't make it this time, don't worry--I will get to all of these wonderful characters at some point.  I love all of them too much to abandon them.)

Thanks again for a wonderful year, and I hope you'll stick around for what's coming down the pipe in 2021!

[Batman76]

Ms Elite....uhhh....The Miracle

[Cyril Figgis]

((All right, that's a wrap!  Thank you to everyone who voted on the next installment of C&C--the last regular posting of the year!  By combining the votes from DA and Curvage, it looks like we'll be revisiting Feeder-Man starting this week!  I've got big plans for Nate and his cast of characters, and I can't wait to share them with you.  Stay tuned for more!))