Chapter 3: Integration

(Daemon)

I had thought June's description was quite clear. Then again, I had also thought I knew this city rather well. It had been about half an hour since I left the MORFS-center and I was fairly certain I had gotten myself lost.

June, the telepath at the center, had given me directions to a shop that caters to Survivors with body-modifications. Fittingly named Wings and Tails.

I was just about to give up and go home when I heard some yelling down the street. As I walked closer, it sounded more and more like violent purists. Sounds awfully familiar. I pushed apart a couple of the bystanders. How can you be watching this? Then I recognized the kids from just an hour earlier. Haven't these kids learned anything from their encounter with me?

The only difference was the victim, this time no armless girl. Now, they had picked a hybrid mother and son to harass. The boy was way too young to have caught MORFS, so I figured he had inherited his tail from his mother.

Hmm, maybe they know where to find that shop. Will have to chase off these assholes first though. I thought, as I surveyed the situation.

I extended my claws as I walked up to the scene. "YO! Remember me?"

The effect was fast and clear: in a blink, all eyes were turned to me. The two who had actually made contact last time turned green, it looked like they hadn't even bothered to visit a doctor. Idiots. The rest were outright terrified.

The two green guys made a silent escape, while I walked up to the victims.

"You might want to leave too, unless you want to get beaten again," I advised the others.

"No way. This time, you're going down!" It seemed they weren't very good at taking hints as I walked towards them with extended claws.

As an added effect, I dragged my claws along a wall, leaving four neat marks. Apparently they hadn't realized I could actually damage stone with these, as the kids started to notice their leaders had made a run for it. One by one they came to the conclusion that it wouldn't be me who was going down.

Well, this ended rather peacefully. I thought, a bit disappointed, after they had all run off. I had been secretly hoping for a little practice with my powers.

The spectators started to leave as the chances of a fight were pretty slim now, while the victims rushed towards me to thank me.

"Oh, thank you. I thought those people were going to let us get beaten. How can we thank you?" the mother sniffled as she tried to calm down.

I dusted off my claws as I answered. "Don't worry about that, you're welcome." I blew the last remnants of dust from my claws and retracted them. "Say, you wouldn't know where I can find a shop called 'Wings and Tails'?"

Turned out I had saved the right people, as they had me standing at Wings and Tails about five minutes later. Unbelievable, I had passed this joint three times and had not noticed it. Mother and son headed for the kids department and I tried to find the men's wear. The shop itself was quite narrow, but ran quite deep and in an 'L' shape to boot, so it still took me quite some time to find the section I was looking for.

As I was browsing through the rack, I heard a voice behind me. "Hello sir." I turned to find the source to be a young woman with unnaturally yellow eyes and small blue wings sprouting from her shoulders. "My name's Erica. Can I help you find anything?"

"Yes, I think you can." I replied. "I'd like to get a full set of jeans with tail-holes. These are not going to last long."

I thought she looked at my butt a bit longer than necessary before answering. "Where did you get these? Whoever sold you these should close up shop."

"Now that's just mean. I modified these myself." I said with mock indignity.

"Oh, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean it like that."

"Don't worry about it, not like I plan on making it my job. It was just meant to last till I could go shopping."

"Then it seems you have come to the right place." She showed me to a rack of pants. "We have exactly what you're looking for. Anything else that may catch your fancy?"

I was rather impressed by the assortment of pants, so I decided to give it another shot. When I asked for shirts with wing holes, the girl walked off. Coming back a few moments later with a men's version of the shirt she was wearing.

"Hmm, I don't think that is gonna work." I said.

"We do have other colours and prints." She tried to convince me.

"It's not that. You see, the holes are too small." She gave me a funny look, when I said that. Obviously she was thinking my wings were similar to hers.

"Mine are not parrot sized, no offence. At the base, they stretch from my shoulders, all the way to my lower back."

The shop attendant crossed her arms and looked like she thought I was joking.

"Here, I'll show you," I said, pulling up my shirt.

As I carefully unfolded one wing – taking care not to hit anything – her expression changed form 'Yeah, sure' to 'Oh my god.'

I smiled. "Yeah, that's what I thought the first time I saw them."

"How on earth do you get them to fold up like that?" She asked, with the same look of shock on her face.

"With a lot of effort. You think you have anything in this size?"

"I ... I think we do," She said before running off.

A few minutes later, she came back with the perfect shirt for the job: It had two slits at the back, which could be buttoned up when not in use. Too bad they had only one in my size, so I had to order the rest. While I was at it I also added a CNT hair set. Not gonna keep it this long.

As I pulled out my wallet to pay for my new wardrobe, I noticed a bulletin board behind the counter labelled 'Jobs'.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing at the board.

"It says 'jobs', what do you think?" Erica joked. "But seriously, it's a place where local businesses can post job requests specially aimed toward MORFS-survivors."

"There are people who specifically want to hire morfs?"

"Yes, and a lot more than you'd think too. Are you interested?"

I could certainly use the money and otherwise I'd be gaming away my life anyway. I thought.

"Sure, why not," I said, then pointed at a post for some restaurant. "That one sounds interesting."

"Ah, Cat's Tail. It's a restaurant a few blocks away from here. They cater to morfs specifically. And have a policy of hiring morfs only," The girl explained. "They've been looking for a waiter and kitchen assistant for some time. Here's their number in case you want to give them a call."

I stuffed the note in my pocket, paid for my clothes and made arrangements for when to pick up the order.

On the way back to the train station, the weird looks from people resumed like they had that morning. By the time I was seated, it died down a little and I decided to do some practice with my shield power.

The first try was not a big success. Less than a second after I had created the shield, it slammed me right in the face. Good thing it knocked me out of my concentration, otherwise it might have done some serious damage.

I thought about what might have gone wrong and why it worked fine that morning. Maybe it has to stay stationary ... Then again, that doesn't make sense either, the earth moves as well. Then I got it: anchoring. I simply had to figure out a way to 'anchor' the field to a different reference point. It took quite a few more tries, and bruises, before I figured it out. I got it to anchor to the train itself, so it stayed put in the cabin. I even got it to anchor to myself, causing it to move when I did. My day was officially made.

When I got home, I was greeted by both parents, asking how it went. I replied by showing them the pants, shirt and the 'clear-for-school' slip.

"And, check this out," I said as I created a shield out of the way, just to make my eyes glow.

"Wow, when did you learn that? I'm sure you couldn't do that this morning," My mom asked.

"True, I learned it at the post-MORFS centre. And it comes with a power."

"A power as well? So what is it, I didn't see anything."

"It's a sort of anti-kinetic shield. Like this," I answered, demonstrating it by letting my keys bounce in mid-air.

At that moment my brother walked it with the strangest combination of surprise, jealousy and boredom on his face. "Damn it. You get all the good stuff around here."

"Don't worry, John. You've only hit sixteen a month ago, you have plenty of time left to catch MORFS," I tried to cheer him up.

"Let me just go upstairs, put this stuff away and change into something more fitting," I said, as I made my way up the stairs.

I stuffed my new wardrobe in my closet and exchanged my current shirt for the one with wing slits. It was a strange sensation at first: wearing clothes and still being able to freely move my wings.

My afternoon was a lot less eventful than my morning had been and the guests for New Year's Eve wouldn't arrive till 9pm. So that gave me some more time to practice my wings and newfound power. Gotta have something to show off, after skipping out on Christmas.

By the time the guests started arriving, I felt like I had been set up. My parents had forced me to play butler, welcoming each guest as they arrived. Well, I guess forced is not the right word, as it was a choice between either that or sweeping the curb tomorrow. At that time I had thought this was the lesser evil. Now, I was not so sure. Every time I opened the door to another relative, I got the same reaction of shock and awe, shortly followed by the same (to me rather obvious) questions. Things were more fun when Lisa and her parents arrived and she asked where I had hidden my wings, as I had folded them under my shirt before the first guests arrived. Her parent's reaction to my 'later' was quite funny.

The rest of the night though was filled with snacks, loving acceptance and fireworks. And another load of shock and awe when I revealed my wings. I found out that my tail is strong enough to lift my two year old cousin; he tends to grab and hold on to everything. And that, after being talked into it by my aunt, my hair looks quite good in a braid. I'll never admit that to anyone, ever.

The fireworks were a bit less fun than I had hoped, as some kids down the street thought it was funny to aim a sky-rocket at the lizard. Turns out I only get temporary blinded and deafened when one of those explode in my face.

After some persuasion from my family, I figured I couldn't very well mutilate them in the middle of the street. My family found it a bit unsettling though when I slammed my claws into a lamppost, leaving five neat holes when I retracted them. I guess my parents finally realized what the doctor meant by 'very sharp'.

Eventually I did get my chance to get back at the assholes. I managed to turn the joke around when I caught them aiming another sky-rocket. I created a shield between me and them, so the rocket would bounce straight into their parents' car. It did one hell of a load of damage in there. I think it got them grounded for at least a month.

With the assholes behind lock and key, I had a lot more fun enjoying the fireworks. Within minutes of the twelve o'clock signal, the entire town was covered by a refreshing cloud of gunpowder smoke. As once again four million's worth of fireworks were blasted into the skies, the smoke cloud was painted in almost every colour imaginable. My inner pyromaniac always finds this the best time of year, but this time it felt almost like a celebration for surviving MORFS as well. I knew full well it could have killed me, if my parents hadn't been watching me closely.

That night, I fell asleep with the gunpowder vapours still in my nostrils and the final pieces of explosives going off over my head. My bed felt like heaven.

Waking up, though, was more of a shock. Something was definitely wrong. It took me a while to figure out what it was though, then it hit me: I was back in my old body.

No way. There is absolutely no way the last few days were a dream.

"Might be because this is," said a voice behind me, causing me to jump.

"SHIT. Nick, please don't ever do that again," I yelled. "It's not even Wednesday yet."

"Yes it is, roughly 3 am out here," he answered calmly.

"Okay, got me on a technicality," I admitted. "So, how did New Year's Eve go on your end?"

Nick plopped down on a chair he had just made out of thin air before answering. "Hmm, not too bad, lots of alcohol. Some assholes tried to get Gills drunk. And you know his tolerance for alcohol."

I nodded. Zero.

"They're asleep now."

"Courtesy of you, I assume." Nick just nodded, sporting a wide grin.

"They never knew what hit them ... But, we can update each other on our holiday escapades later," he said, radically changing the subject. "From your knowing what day it is, I assume you've been awake for at least some time."

"Yup, woke up last Friday. Let's just say I hit the jackpot. Though it seems that didn't leak through to my dreams yet."

"Uh huh, looks like your subconscious self-image hasn't caught on yet," he mused. "Don't worry, it's normal. Aaron's still hasn't caught on completely."

"True, but he's a special case, it's not like I switched gender or something."

"Yeah, didn't think so. You'd be a bit more on edge if that were the case, I think," He chuckled. "Oh well, guess I'll have to wait till Monday."

"He he, might as well. I'd hate to miss the looks on your faces anyway. Now, can I please resume my night's rest?"

"Are you sure you got it that bad?" Nick asked.

"Yes, I'm sure I got it that bad. Now get the hell out."

The rest of the week was fairly quiet. I did some more practice, on both my wings and my power. Got some homework done, I had been neglecting that bit the past week. Playing comatose and all. Come Sunday, I had fairly good control over the wings, though flight was still out of the question.

My shield trick had also gained a little boost. I had managed to split the shield, creating two instead of one. The combined surface was the same as that of one big one however. I also made an appointment for a job interview at that restaurant.

As the week drew closer to an end, I found myself getting nervous. Sure, I'd be safe from almost anything they could throw at me and I didn't think Weaver would fry my brain. But that's why it's called irrational fear.

Monday morning started out great. I had overslept by half an hour. Which, with my very tight morning routine, is a disaster. I must have looked like a mini-tornado as I tried to get ready for school in time. Filling up my bag, packing breakfast, falling down the stairs while trying to get some pants on. Good thing bruises don't really show through the scales. Running out the door, turning back to grab my keys and almost running headfirst into a passing car. All in all, just wonderful. I did get to school in time to turn in my post-MORFS slip though.

As I left the office, I saw my friends heading for the stairs. As expected, they didn't recognise me. So I decided to give them a little shock.

I walked up behind them and slapped Peter and Aaron on their shoulders. "Hey, guys!"

"Who the hell are you?" shouted Peter.

"HOLY SHIT! Jake?" It seemed Nick recognised my brain. "Is that really you?"

The rest looked between me and Nick for a moment.

"Yup, told you I'd hit the jackpot," I grinned.

Warren looked me over and asked, "So, scales, eyes and claws. What else is new?"

"Strength, powers and lots of CNT."

Aaron let out a whistle, "Nice."

We talked some more about my upgrades on our way to class. Our algebra professor pretty much ignored me, which was fine by me. It also allowed us to silently continue our conversation.

<So, when do you think your other power will unlock?> Asked Weaver.

<Dunno, as soon as possible, I hope, > I answered. <I also have another passive one. Some automated defence against telepaths. Wait a minute, why haven't you hit a mine yet?>

<Oh, so that's what those things are. I thought it would be best to avoid the dark blobs.>

<How come you can spot them, anyway? June said they were pretty much invisible.>

Gills cut in before Weaver could answer: <What are they loaded with?>

<Uhm ... She said she got hit with an empathic feedback.>

<Well, that explains why I can see them. I can't see emotions at all. So it's more like seeing a lack of things than actually seeing the mines themselves.> Weaver explained. <I have no doubt, however, that they would hurt like hell.>

<Hmm, one thing less to worry about.> I mused. <Hey Myst, your parents home today?>

<No, why? Want a post-MORFS party?> he asked teasing.

<Nah, want to show you the last of my upgrades.> I included a mental grin.

<Check this out.> I said, before lifting the side of my shirt and wiggling one of my wing 'fingers'.

Sakura was the first to get a good look at what I meant. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he asked: <Is that what I think it is?>

<Depends on what you're thinking.> I said mysteriously.

"Hey, you guys back there! Pay attention!" That cut our conversation short.

We spend the rest of the lecture pretending to pay attention and occasionally taking notes. Once the lecture was over, we said goodbye to Peter and Gills. They had to go to another class, while the rest of us headed to Chem.-Calc.

I actually dreaded this part of the day the most. Mr. Schröder was a known Purist. He tended to keep his hybrid students just on the brink of failure, but only just. And with my new and 'improved' looks, I would definitely be on his bad side.

As expected, problems started as soon as I entered the classroom. "Hey, You are not in my class, get out."

"Uhm, sir, I'm Jake. I got hit with MORFS over the holidays."

"No, no lies. Jake is way too old for MORFS. Now get out before I drag you to the office."

I sighed. "Okay, dean's office it is then."

With that he was pretty much fuming. He slammed the classroom door behind us, after telling the rest to study page something, and marched towards the office.

The dean looked up from her tablet when he barged in. "What can I do for you, Mr. Schröder?"

"This ... this person," he spat the last word like it was something nasty. "Is trying to impersonate one of my students. I will not stand for such things."

"It thought I wouldn't see the difference between it and my student, Jake Wilson." The 'it' really rubbed my scales the wrong way.