A commission story for Imiut! His character Imiut attends an unusual party, has an unusual dinner, and then proceeds to have an unusually bad time.
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Imiut leaned against the wall as the party went on before him. It wasn't so much that he was trying to avoid the party; more that he still wasn't quite sure how to act with this particular kind of company.
"Everything okay, my friend? You seem nervous. You know we're throwing this party for you, right?"
Imiut looked down at the shorter canine standing next to him. He wore an ornate headdress covered with feathers, a mantle over his shoulders, and numerous accessories. His mouth hung partially open, revealing huge fangs and a long tongue, which lolled out into the open air. And his eyes were intense, swirling pools of light and color.
And yet he was the most relatable person Imiut had at this particular party.
"I know, Xolotl, I know," Imiut said. "My 'one thousandth incarnation.' I'm just... not sure I really belong here." He looked out over the party.
The party had been set up in a large, rectangular room. The wooden walls were decorated with balloons, and a large buffet table had been placed along one wall, covered with many foods that Imiut recognized, as well as even more that he did not. Various party-goers visited and talked, some getting food from the buffet, others chatting or telling jokes in small groups. They were all canines, and the majority seemed to be having a good time.
And every single one, Imiut knew, was some creature of myth or legend, things that the average person didn't believe existed. Hell, even this place was mythical: a hidden tavern only accessible by "extraordinary" folk.
It was kind of overwhelming.
"I know you only just awoke," Xolotl said, his voice sympathetic, "but please, believe me, you definitely belong here. There is no doubt with regards to who you are."
Imiut nodded. "I know," he said. "I just wish I had gotten a little bit more time to adjust before..."
"Hold up," Xolotl said. "We've got company."
Imiut looked up to see a figure approaching them. He would have noticed her anyway, even if she hadn't been pointed out. Not just because she was beautiful, or because she wore a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places.
No, it was mostly because she was over ten feet tall and had three heads.
"Cerberus," Imiut said.
"Anubis," was the polite reply from the middle head.
Imiut felt a small thrill run through him as he heard the name. His name. There was no doubt in his mind that Xolotl was correct: he could feel who he was. The guardian of tombs. The judge of the dead.
"Nice party," Imiut said weakly.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it," Cerberus's left head responded with a smile.
"Is he, though?" The right head asked. "He looks a little nervous."
"He's just still getting used to all this," said Left.
"But what if..."
"Girls!" The middle head snapped at the other two. Then she turned her gaze back to Imiut. "My apologies. I understand you're going through a transition that is not always easy."
Imiut shrugged. "Well, if Xolotl here can do it once a day, I'm sure I can handle it once a lifetime."
Xolotl smiled, looking a little embarrassed.
"Well put," Cerberus answered. "Here, this is for you." She held out a small, decorated box in one hand.
Imiut stiffened. This was the part he was concerned about: the gifts. Because he might not know much about this world, but this was one thing he did know: the Laws of Hospitality demanded that he accept any gift he was given. To refuse would be a grave insult. And he did not want to make an enemy of anyone here, so he would have to accept anything they brought him, no matter how outlandish or magical.
Cautiously, he took the package.
"Open it now!" Cerberus' left head said. "I want to see your reaction!"
Imiut nodded, then turned his attention to the box. He placed his hand on the lid, took a deep breath, and opened it to reveal...
"Fighting Fantasy IV!?" Imiut stared at the small video game cartridge, then up at Cerberus. "How did you know I wanted this!?"
"We have our ways," the middle head said. Her right head looked relieved, and her left had a smug expression on its face.
She reached down to give Imiut a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Enjoy the rest of the party. Try not to get overwhelmed," she said kindly.
"Um, thank you, Ma'am," Imiut said.
Cerberus gave him three smiles, then turned to walk back into the crowd.
"See? And you were worried," Xolotl said, giving Imiut a friendly punch on the arm. "I told you that..."
"Why, hello there!" A friendly voice called out from across the party.
Imiut froze. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He could see another figure approaching.
This one was also big, though not in the same direction: the fox had a long "taur" shaped body, four legs padding lightly across the floor. He was wearing a rather nice button-up shirt and a bright purple vest. Small balls of similarly-hued flame hovered around his body, and multiple large, fluffy tails trailed in his wake.
"Rythven," Imiut muttered.
"Nice to see you again, too, Imiut!" The fox responded with a jovial smile, reaching out to offer Imiut a handshake.
Imiut hesitated. It was the same feeling that would make him hesitate to shake the hand of a slimy salesman at a car dealership. He knew that he had never met Imiut before -- at least not in this life -- but something in his inherited memory was poking at his subconscious.
But he also knew that he shouldn't be inhospitable, especially here. So he took the hand and gave it a firm shake, even when Rythven held onto it for a bit too long.
"Such a big event!" Rythven said. "Your one thousandth incarnation! I'm so happy to be here to see it." He glances down at the still-open box in Imiut's hand, and turns his gaze to Xolotl. "Ah. Was that your gift?"
"No, it was from Cerberus." Xolotl sounded annoyed.
"And it's an excellent gift," Imiut said, annoyed himself at the note of disdain in Rythven's voice.
"Of course, of course! But I have a gift truly befitting a god of your stature!" He raised his hand in a grand gesture.
"Attention, everyone! I will be presenting my gift to Imiut!" Rythven shouted, making sure the whole room could hear it.
Xolotl shook his head. "We're not really doing that, Ryth. You can just give your present to..."
But canine eyes all across the party had already turned to the fox. Rythven smiled, and began moving his upraised hand in small circles. The motes of flame flowed around him, and other party-goers started to approach to see what the big deal was.
"My friends," Rythven said, "we are all here today to honor a momentous occasion for one of our number..."
"We know why we're here," came a voice from the crowd.
Rythven ignored it. The flames were circling faster now, and spiraling closer together. "We're here to celebrate the one thousandth incarnation of our dear friend! A thousand lifetimes of great feats and godly tales! A thousand stories of myth and legend!"
Imiut could feel his hackles raising. He hadn't wanted to call this much attention to himself, and now the fox was putting on a damn show. What kind of gift was this, anyway?
The foxfires gathered into a swirling maelstrom right in front of Rythven, gradually coalescing, starting to take shape...
And suddenly, with a pop, they turned into a body. It let out a squeak of surprise and hit the floor with a thump.
Lying dazed on the floor was a female possum. She was wearing a black t-shirt emblazoned with the logo of a band that Imiut didn't recognize, and black leather pants held up by a belt covered with small, spike-shaped studs. Her ears had numerous piercings.
"What... what is this?" Imiut asked, feeling just as stunned as the possum looked.
"Your gift!" Rythven answered, with a flourish of his hand. "The paltry refreshments offered here are hardly befitting one such as you, so I thought I would offer a meal fit for the god you are!"
Imiut stared at the possum, his brain taking a few moments to process what Rythven was saying.
"Rythven." The stern voice came from Cerberus, who was standing a little ways off among the other watchers. "This is hardly an appropriate gift for..."
Rythven gave an exaggerated shrug. "Alas, regardless of your opinion, the gift has already been made!" He turned his attention back to Imiut. "So, enjoy it, my friend!"
Imiut swallowed hard. He stepped forward and dropped to one knee next to the possum.
The girl had sat up, and was shaking her head, still obviously dazed. She looked up at Imiut. "What... where am I? A minute ago I was on the street, and then this fox came up and said he wanted to talk to me, and then... and then..."
Imiut put a hand on her shoulder. "Shh. Don't worry about it. It doesn't matter now."
The possum looked around, her eyes starting to widen as she saw the myriad bizarre party guests surrounding her, all looking at herself and Imiut. "What... what's going on?"
Imiut just sighed. "I'm really very sorry about this," he whispered, keeping his voice low so that only the possum could hear him. "But I literally cannot refuse."
"Refuse? Refuse what? What are you...?"
But her question trailed off as Imiut opened his long muzzle, his maw gaping wide in front of her. Moving quickly, Imiut slid his hand behind her ears, gripping the fur there hard with his fingers, in order to shove the surprised possum's head into his mouth.
She struggled -- of course she struggled. But it was still over quickly. The possum was disoriented and confused, and Imiut was a lot stronger than the petite female. It took him less than thirty seconds to shove the struggling, squirming possum down his gullet, her screams and pleas for mercy quickly muffled by layers of fur and flesh. Before long, he tilted his head back, swallowing up her footpaws.
Glk.
As Imiut rose back to his feet, he now had a large, squirming bulge in his gut, pushing up his shirt.
"I say, excellent!" Rythven said, clapping. There was a smattering of applause from a few of the other party-goers, too. "A wonderful display of predatory instinct!"
Imiut took a step back to steady himself as his stomach writhed. He felt a rumble moving upward, and he brought his hand up to stifle a small belch. "Th-thank you for the gift," he managed to say.
Xolotl rushed to his side, as if to help him stand, but Imiut waved him off.
"I'm fine," Imiut said. "But I think I've had about enough party for one night."
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Imiut leaned against the stone wall at the bus stop. His gut was making even that difficult: the possum was still kicking up a storm, not that he blamed her. All the movement was making it hard for him to keep his balance, though at least the other people waiting at the stop had all edged away from him, so he wasn't bumping into anyone.
He let out a relieved sigh as the bus arrived. He waited for the others at the stop to board first, then attempted to board the bus himself.
It wasn't exactly easy. His huge stomach made fitting through the narrow bus doors difficult. It took a few tries, but he finally managed to squeeze his way in. He climbed the steps up into the bus.
The bus driver, a female rabbit, looked at his squirming gut for a long few seconds. "I'm gonna have to charge you for two seats," she says.
"Seriously!?"
"No way you're fitting in one right now."
Imiut sighs, then scans his bus card.
The bus ride itself wasn't that bad -- the driver had been right, the space of an extra seat made it easier to get comfortable. Though there was a young female rabbit sitting across the aisle from him who kept staring at his gut, until her mother whispered something in her ear and covered her eyes. He didn't want to imagine what those two thought of him.
When they finally arrived at his stop, he thanked the driver for her patience on the way out, before squeezing himself back out of the bus.
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"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon..."
Imiut's teeth were clenched, his eyes focused on the tv. He leaned forward on the couch, his fingers gripping the game controller, his hands resting on his swollen gut.
"C'mon, c'mon, so close..." he muttered, his fingers moving deftly across the buttons and joysticks. He was almost in position. He had already tried this level three times, and he was so close to...
There was a muffled scream, and his stomach bulged out as the possum kicked hard. The kick hit his left hand, knocking the controller out of his grip.
The TV played a dark tone, and the words "GAME OVER" appeared on-screen.
"Damn it!" Imiut shouted, tossing the controller onto the couch next to him in frustration. He had been hoping, after the fiasco at the party, that he could at least relax at home and enjoy his other gifts. But no! His big, squirmy gut said otherwise. Growling to himself, he picked the controller back up and turned off the console. He would just have to play his new game later. Maybe he would just go to bed early.
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Imiut lay in his bed, wide awake.
It wasn't like he could blame the possum. It would be a little hard to sleep while you're being digested alive. But Imiut just wasn't used to this much extra weight on his abdomen, and the fact that that weight kept struggling and squirming around made it even worse.
He glanced over at his alarm clock. It read 2:36 AM.
He sighed, then rolled over onto his side, hoping to try againt to get at least some sleep.
--------
Imiut stood in the bathroom, wearing only his boxers. He assessed the small shower. It was the kind that lacked a bathtub, with plastic walls and only enough space for one person.
There was no way he was going to fit in it.
He looked down at his stomach. He -- naturally -- hadn't been hungry enough to eat breakfast this morning, but he had at least made himself a cup of coffee to try to boost his energy after the mostly sleepless night. Unfortunately, the hot liquid had awoken his "guest," who was now kicking up a storm.
"Of course," he said. "Of course she's a fighter." He didn't do this often enough to have a strong frame of reference, but how long was she going to last? Probably another day or two at minimum. Would he be able to work in this state?
Would he even fit in his car?
Imiut sighed. He shook his head, before turning and walking out of the bathroom sans-shower, in spite of how grungy he felt. Without bothering to get dressed, he picked up his cell phone and dialed his boss's number.
"Hey. I'm gonna have to use a few sick days."
--------
Imiut reclined on his couch, watching TV. He was bored.
He had thought, that if he was forced to use some sick days, he could at least spend that time doing some things he enjoyed? But that possum was still fighting, and that made it impossible to do... well, almost everything, it seemed. As he had seen before, playing games that took any kind of concentration was pretty much out of the question. He had thought that maybe he could draw -- but that had turned out even worse. And he was carrying way too much extra weight to go hiking. So in the end, all he could do was sit on his couch and watch TV.
There was a vibration on the side table next to the couch as his phone rang. Imiut sat up, paused his show, and picked up his phone. "Hello?"
"Hey, Imiut!" The voice on the other end sounded cheerful.
Imiut perked up immediately. "Tom! Great to hear from you! What's up?"
"Well, me and a couple of the other guys scored tickets to that concert tonight! We were wondering if you wanted to join us!"
Imiut froze. He knew the concert they were talking about. He had been thinking about going himself. Going with friends would be even more fun. But...
"Sorry, Tom, I'm gonna have to turn you down."
"Aww, really? What's up, I thought you'd be excited!"
"I am, really!" Imiut sighed. "But I'm not feeling well. Just not a good idea right now."
"Man, that's a bummer. Sorry about that."
They exchanged a few more pleasantries, then ended the call.
Imiut set the phone down and then let out another sigh. He had really wanted to say yes. But aside from the logistical questions of getting to the concert -- what if he got hit with a double fare again, like on the bus? Even one ticket would have been stretching his budget, there was no way he could afford two.
No, it seems like his only option was to veg out at home until his stomach got under control. At least he couldn't do any damage that way.
He hefted himself to his feet. He needed a beer.
Unfortunately, on his way to the kitchen, he took a corner too close. He felt his belly bump into a wooden table. And that was followed by a loud crash.
Imiut stared at the lamp, now shattered into pieces on the floor.
"DAMN IT!"
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There was the sound of a bell as Imiut pushed the door to the diner open, stepping inside. He took a seat at the bar, put in an order with the waitress, and then settled in to wait.
While he waited, he pressed one hand experimentally into his stomach. It was still swollen, giving him the appearance of having a sizeable beer gut. When he pressed against it, he could feel the shifting outlines of smooth, hard objects -- what remained of the possum after his stomach had worked on her for the last two weeks. He was going to need to do some extra exercise to work off this weight, but at least he could go out without trouble now.
The waitress returned, setting a platter in front of him.
Imiut closed his eyes, taking in the scent of grilled beef and hot, crispy french fries. He picked up his burger, taking a big bite, savoring the flavor as he rolled the morsel on his tongue.
"How is it?" The waitress asked, a friendly smile on her face.
Imiut swallowed the bite. "Better than people, that's for sure."
"Huh?"
Imiut felt his face flush. Had he said that out loud? "Nothing! Just an inside joke. It's really good. Thank you."
The waitress raised an eyebrow at him, but moved on. She had other customers to serve.
Imiut took another bite of his burger, thrilled to have his life back to normal.
