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More from Mama Jo
Marloes Blom-Becker, Feltonite Goo-Mother, S.3.R.A. Emplo...
In 1671, Dutch alchemist Johannes Paulus Blom was given a fantastic gift that boggled the mind: A seemingly living, moving mass of orange liquid, the general consistency of honey, warm to the touch, and capable of feats of industrious movement. It was given to him as a gift by one of his budding students, a young man who wished to learn all that the master alchemist could teach him about the mysterious substance Johannes was, for lack of a better word, baffled. He had never once seen anything of its like, and had to know more about it, starting with where it was found.
His notes indicated that he was taken to a strange, misty fissure somewhere in the Dutch countryside, but the exact location was kept secret, and a later note indicated that a tremor collapsed the chasm some years after the initial discovery. What he found within is only vaguely known; references to a lost "valley" of wonders, of life as he had never seen before, all aglow with a "sun-like brilliance", and all strange beyond words. At the heart of the valley lay a strange, primordial rift, from which flowed a viscous river of the very substance he had been given. Though the creatures of the valley were hostile to his efforts to retrieve more of the substance, he and his assistants managed to abscond with several barrels of the material with only minor injuries.
Over the next two decades, Johannes studied and experimented on the mystery he had procured, his wonderment never ceasing, even as the strangeness of the matter seemed to grow. The material could be sampled and tested, but never truly seemed to reduce in quantity. He fed the ooze small animals, plants, minerals, and it absorbed all with little difficulty, though it never seemed to make an attempt on anything large, or sapient. It wasn't until his daughter, Octavie, fell ill that his work slowed to a crawl.
And then Octavie died, and with it her father's spirit for his work was forever changed. He became obsessed with the idea that the ooze, with its seemingly unnatural life, was somehow a secret to immortality, and even more than that, to restoring lost life. And so, in secret, he sealed his daughter's body in the great wooden cask of the mysterious ooze, and left it for several months.
When opened again, the ooze seemed at first unchanged, though he found no evidence of his daughter within. It wasn't until he touched it that it responded, rippling up and out of the container, swelling and changing in form until it had taken on the shape of a human woman...At least, somewhat. Strange, empty eyes stared at Johannes, devoid of emotion, but obviously showing the signs of intelligence.
His daughter was gone, that he had to accept, but he found himself somehow drawn to the creature he had inadvertently brought to life. He found that it, that she, was more than simply intelligent; she was brilliant, and quick to learn. He taught this new being his native tongue, as well as the others he knew. He taught her how to read, how to write, educated her in the ways of humans to the best of his ability, and did everything he could to prepare what he came to view as his new daughter for a world he knew would never accept her. He wasn't sure if the Church could slay her, but he knew that he and his assistants would all be executed for their perceived sins if they were caught.
He named her Marloes, after her unique beauty, and spent the remaining years of his life enjoying the company of his doting and unorthodox adopted daughter. He knew that his time was drawing to a close, however, and asked her to hide herself from those who might try to harm her when he passed. At the age of 79, Johannes Paulus Blom passed away, leaving his estate to his daughter, though this confused the people of his home city Doetinchem, for they had never seen the second daughter the old alchemist had claimed to have, nor did they ever after his demise.
The city grew around the old home of the alchemist, the property maintained in a clandestine fashion, any intrusion met with a mysterious voice warning them away. The old home came to be called the Heksenhuis of the long years, even surviving the intrusion of the Nazis and the Allied bombing that devastated most of the city, and it wasn't until the mid-1970's that government interest in the paranormal led to a full investigation. This investigation resulted in the containment of the resident "Ghost", the semi-dormant amorphous being brought into custody and contained for questioning, even as the home was searched and the alchemist's old notes were studied.
It was a sister-organization in the United States, the Supernatural Response, Research and Relations Agency, or S.3.R.A., that actually took full custody of Marloes in the end. A voluntary adoption of the foreign national, with a proper education to expand on her limited knowledge of English included in an offer of work and housing in exchange for an opportunity to study the strange material she was made of, which S.3.R.A. scientists came to refer to as Memescopic Bioplasm. They found that the strange substance seemed to be similar, in some ways, to amoebic matter, and to basic blood plasma in others.
For the most part, Marloes spent the majority of her time post-transition living in the Underground, working as a secretary around the main Underground S.3.R.A. hub office. It wasn't until the late 1990's that things took a most interesting turn for her, in the form of one Mr. Walter Becker.
Mr. Becker was a civil servant, specifically something of a busybody who had a distinctive habit of digging into things he shouldn't have. He dug too deeply into city records when he noticed discrepancies in the Felton records tied to waste management. There was too much power being used, too much waste being processed, and too many work crews bypassing entire segments of the city sewer system for everything to make sense. So he got nosy, and then he got into trouble. He found out things he shouldn't have, and in doing so found himself at a crossroads: He could either spend the rest of his life in confinement, or he could work for S.3.R.A., relegated to a new civil servant job in the Underground itself. He made the more logical choice, and in doing so found himself with an unorthodox personal assistant in the form of Marloes Blom.
Walter was, at first, something of a chore to work with. He seemed uncomfortable and confused by many of the X.T. residents of the Underground, though Marloes didn't bother him unless she chose to forego human features at work. He was far too anal retentive, and had no head for actually working with citizenry as a whole. Marloes, though, was all about dealing with the public, and Walter quickly found her absolutely invaluable. More and more, he came to enjoy coming to work every day, and not just because of his increased pay and benefits.
Time passed, life happened, and soon enough the lovely Ms. Blom became Mrs. Blom-Becker, keeping her family name and taking that of her husband. And as things frequently go in the way of marriage, in due time she welcomed her two children into the world. Victor, age twelve, and Roberta, age 8, were born from a cellular cystic fusion, a combination of Walter's DNA and Marloes unique matter, gestated in a form more similar to tumors than eggs within their mother. Though they can pass as human more readily, they're still amorphous entities like their mother.
Marloes has since become the office manager, overseeing multiple subordinate assistants and Walter's staff with an equal level of authority to her loving husband, and has found that, despite her long and storied like, she's perhaps the happiest that she has ever been.
Art by
Lustbubbles, of a lovely lady for the Felton setting! For reference, she generates her clothing from her own mass, adjusting the density and distribution to achieve differing tones of orange. She is also technically genderless, but self-identifies as female, so please be considerate.
This is a Q&A, so if you have any questions for our delightful Dutch Goo-MILF, please don't be shy! She's as sweet as can be...In more ways than one! Her natural aroma is somewhat like apple blossoms and honey, while her taste is...Difficult to place, though very appealing and quite sweet.
This is one of four variants, two of which will be going into scraps, of Mrs. Blom-Becker.
His notes indicated that he was taken to a strange, misty fissure somewhere in the Dutch countryside, but the exact location was kept secret, and a later note indicated that a tremor collapsed the chasm some years after the initial discovery. What he found within is only vaguely known; references to a lost "valley" of wonders, of life as he had never seen before, all aglow with a "sun-like brilliance", and all strange beyond words. At the heart of the valley lay a strange, primordial rift, from which flowed a viscous river of the very substance he had been given. Though the creatures of the valley were hostile to his efforts to retrieve more of the substance, he and his assistants managed to abscond with several barrels of the material with only minor injuries.
Over the next two decades, Johannes studied and experimented on the mystery he had procured, his wonderment never ceasing, even as the strangeness of the matter seemed to grow. The material could be sampled and tested, but never truly seemed to reduce in quantity. He fed the ooze small animals, plants, minerals, and it absorbed all with little difficulty, though it never seemed to make an attempt on anything large, or sapient. It wasn't until his daughter, Octavie, fell ill that his work slowed to a crawl.
And then Octavie died, and with it her father's spirit for his work was forever changed. He became obsessed with the idea that the ooze, with its seemingly unnatural life, was somehow a secret to immortality, and even more than that, to restoring lost life. And so, in secret, he sealed his daughter's body in the great wooden cask of the mysterious ooze, and left it for several months.
When opened again, the ooze seemed at first unchanged, though he found no evidence of his daughter within. It wasn't until he touched it that it responded, rippling up and out of the container, swelling and changing in form until it had taken on the shape of a human woman...At least, somewhat. Strange, empty eyes stared at Johannes, devoid of emotion, but obviously showing the signs of intelligence.
His daughter was gone, that he had to accept, but he found himself somehow drawn to the creature he had inadvertently brought to life. He found that it, that she, was more than simply intelligent; she was brilliant, and quick to learn. He taught this new being his native tongue, as well as the others he knew. He taught her how to read, how to write, educated her in the ways of humans to the best of his ability, and did everything he could to prepare what he came to view as his new daughter for a world he knew would never accept her. He wasn't sure if the Church could slay her, but he knew that he and his assistants would all be executed for their perceived sins if they were caught.
He named her Marloes, after her unique beauty, and spent the remaining years of his life enjoying the company of his doting and unorthodox adopted daughter. He knew that his time was drawing to a close, however, and asked her to hide herself from those who might try to harm her when he passed. At the age of 79, Johannes Paulus Blom passed away, leaving his estate to his daughter, though this confused the people of his home city Doetinchem, for they had never seen the second daughter the old alchemist had claimed to have, nor did they ever after his demise.
The city grew around the old home of the alchemist, the property maintained in a clandestine fashion, any intrusion met with a mysterious voice warning them away. The old home came to be called the Heksenhuis of the long years, even surviving the intrusion of the Nazis and the Allied bombing that devastated most of the city, and it wasn't until the mid-1970's that government interest in the paranormal led to a full investigation. This investigation resulted in the containment of the resident "Ghost", the semi-dormant amorphous being brought into custody and contained for questioning, even as the home was searched and the alchemist's old notes were studied.
It was a sister-organization in the United States, the Supernatural Response, Research and Relations Agency, or S.3.R.A., that actually took full custody of Marloes in the end. A voluntary adoption of the foreign national, with a proper education to expand on her limited knowledge of English included in an offer of work and housing in exchange for an opportunity to study the strange material she was made of, which S.3.R.A. scientists came to refer to as Memescopic Bioplasm. They found that the strange substance seemed to be similar, in some ways, to amoebic matter, and to basic blood plasma in others.
For the most part, Marloes spent the majority of her time post-transition living in the Underground, working as a secretary around the main Underground S.3.R.A. hub office. It wasn't until the late 1990's that things took a most interesting turn for her, in the form of one Mr. Walter Becker.
Mr. Becker was a civil servant, specifically something of a busybody who had a distinctive habit of digging into things he shouldn't have. He dug too deeply into city records when he noticed discrepancies in the Felton records tied to waste management. There was too much power being used, too much waste being processed, and too many work crews bypassing entire segments of the city sewer system for everything to make sense. So he got nosy, and then he got into trouble. He found out things he shouldn't have, and in doing so found himself at a crossroads: He could either spend the rest of his life in confinement, or he could work for S.3.R.A., relegated to a new civil servant job in the Underground itself. He made the more logical choice, and in doing so found himself with an unorthodox personal assistant in the form of Marloes Blom.
Walter was, at first, something of a chore to work with. He seemed uncomfortable and confused by many of the X.T. residents of the Underground, though Marloes didn't bother him unless she chose to forego human features at work. He was far too anal retentive, and had no head for actually working with citizenry as a whole. Marloes, though, was all about dealing with the public, and Walter quickly found her absolutely invaluable. More and more, he came to enjoy coming to work every day, and not just because of his increased pay and benefits.
Time passed, life happened, and soon enough the lovely Ms. Blom became Mrs. Blom-Becker, keeping her family name and taking that of her husband. And as things frequently go in the way of marriage, in due time she welcomed her two children into the world. Victor, age twelve, and Roberta, age 8, were born from a cellular cystic fusion, a combination of Walter's DNA and Marloes unique matter, gestated in a form more similar to tumors than eggs within their mother. Though they can pass as human more readily, they're still amorphous entities like their mother.
Marloes has since become the office manager, overseeing multiple subordinate assistants and Walter's staff with an equal level of authority to her loving husband, and has found that, despite her long and storied like, she's perhaps the happiest that she has ever been.
Art by
Lustbubbles, of a lovely lady for the Felton setting! For reference, she generates her clothing from her own mass, adjusting the density and distribution to achieve differing tones of orange. She is also technically genderless, but self-identifies as female, so please be considerate.This is a Q&A, so if you have any questions for our delightful Dutch Goo-MILF, please don't be shy! She's as sweet as can be...In more ways than one! Her natural aroma is somewhat like apple blossoms and honey, while her taste is...Difficult to place, though very appealing and quite sweet.
This is one of four variants, two of which will be going into scraps, of Mrs. Blom-Becker.
Category All / All
Species Exotic (Other)
Size 1250 x 1280px
File Size 125.1 kB
I'm still exceptionally pleased with how Marloes came out, artistically speaking. She looks gorgeous.
And as to questions... Marloes - what are your favorite hobbies, and how weird/awkward was your first date with Walter? Oh, and who asked whom out - which one of you popped the big question?
And as to questions... Marloes - what are your favorite hobbies, and how weird/awkward was your first date with Walter? Oh, and who asked whom out - which one of you popped the big question?
Marloes: Oh, Hallo, lieve! My hobbies, Mm? Well, My father taught me to play the harp, which I still enjoy, though I've come to enjoy the piano more since it's easier to handle solid keys than thin strings that might pierce my outer membrane. It's not harmful, but goeie hemel, the mess! Not cheap instruments, either, so the less I have to worry...
I also like to cook, and Walter says my Hachee is one of his favorite foods. I think he's full of it, to be honest...I think he just says it to make me happy, perhaps hoping for some neuken in de keuken...Hee.
The first date was a little strange, of course; he had to come to grips with the fact that he could see food through me, and I had to learn to cope with how incredibly efficient he insisted on being. I swear, that man could make a spreadsheet laying out how to conceive our next child and be perfectly fine walking me through it rather than just getting to the fun!
And I was the one who asked him out; he was too shy for his own good at first. If you're asking about engagement, though? That was me, too. I think he was too nervous to try, but I found out he'd already bought the ring when I asked him! A good heart and a good man, but always so unsure of himself... Om dezelfde reden trouwde ik met hem, domme jongen! If I hadn't, I'm sure he'd be a proper mess without me.
I also like to cook, and Walter says my Hachee is one of his favorite foods. I think he's full of it, to be honest...I think he just says it to make me happy, perhaps hoping for some neuken in de keuken...Hee.
The first date was a little strange, of course; he had to come to grips with the fact that he could see food through me, and I had to learn to cope with how incredibly efficient he insisted on being. I swear, that man could make a spreadsheet laying out how to conceive our next child and be perfectly fine walking me through it rather than just getting to the fun!
And I was the one who asked him out; he was too shy for his own good at first. If you're asking about engagement, though? That was me, too. I think he was too nervous to try, but I found out he'd already bought the ring when I asked him! A good heart and a good man, but always so unsure of himself... Om dezelfde reden trouwde ik met hem, domme jongen! If I hadn't, I'm sure he'd be a proper mess without me.
Oh jeez, I could just imagine that being a mess... This may seem awkward, or rude, so forgive me - but how hard are you to clean up after?
Pfft... I can see how that could be a little frustrating, though it didn't seem to stop love from blossoming. Though, now I'm curious - did you two know you could possibly have kids before Victor came along, or was he - and subsequently, Roberta - a happy accident?
And oh goodness, that's just the sweetest story. I'm definitely glad things worked out for you two - I'm certain he'd be lost without you. Are you happy with performing the office work - or are there any other careers you've been interested in? And while I'm thinking of it - how did you keep busy between your father's passing and the 1970s? That's a long time to "haunt" a house.
Pfft... I can see how that could be a little frustrating, though it didn't seem to stop love from blossoming. Though, now I'm curious - did you two know you could possibly have kids before Victor came along, or was he - and subsequently, Roberta - a happy accident?
And oh goodness, that's just the sweetest story. I'm definitely glad things worked out for you two - I'm certain he'd be lost without you. Are you happy with performing the office work - or are there any other careers you've been interested in? And while I'm thinking of it - how did you keep busy between your father's passing and the 1970s? That's a long time to "haunt" a house.
Marloes: It depends on what I'm doing, and what happens. I don't generally leave a trail in day-to-day activity, but when aroused, or if my outer membrane is damaged in some way? Wat een rommel! What I am made of, it is so thick and clinging, like honey. And the stains! I am so lucky I do not have to wear normal clothes; one evening of romance with Walter and I'd have to spend all day washing things! Poor, dear Walter, the sweet, he does his own laundry.
Victor was a happy accident, but we were trying for Roberta. Heh...To be honest, we were VERY worried when I was first pregnant. The scientists at S.3.R.A. were absolutely clueless; "
Niet mis. We weten het niet; misschien is het kanker?" Cancer! My Victor, a tumor! Hah! I started to suspect before the S.3.R.A. lab boys could get their heads together and figure things out.
And I adore my job; it lets me be useful, and lets me meet so many people. If I had my choice, though, before this? I would have liked to follow my father's work, though the world has no need for alchemists anymore. Father used to have a saying: "Alchemie doodde magie, maar de wetenschap doodde alchemie." He knew the world would change...He was a good man; a wise man. I loved him so, though it hurt my heart to know I was only born because his first daughter died...I tried to be a good daughter to him, though.
And I spent much time reading, learning, growing. Much of the time not spent learning was spent slumbering, though I don't actually need to do that. Otherwise, I sometimes slipped out into the garden, or I would leave at night and explore the city. It was a simple life, but a kind life, for the most part.
Victor was a happy accident, but we were trying for Roberta. Heh...To be honest, we were VERY worried when I was first pregnant. The scientists at S.3.R.A. were absolutely clueless; "
Niet mis. We weten het niet; misschien is het kanker?" Cancer! My Victor, a tumor! Hah! I started to suspect before the S.3.R.A. lab boys could get their heads together and figure things out.
And I adore my job; it lets me be useful, and lets me meet so many people. If I had my choice, though, before this? I would have liked to follow my father's work, though the world has no need for alchemists anymore. Father used to have a saying: "Alchemie doodde magie, maar de wetenschap doodde alchemie." He knew the world would change...He was a good man; a wise man. I loved him so, though it hurt my heart to know I was only born because his first daughter died...I tried to be a good daughter to him, though.
And I spent much time reading, learning, growing. Much of the time not spent learning was spent slumbering, though I don't actually need to do that. Otherwise, I sometimes slipped out into the garden, or I would leave at night and explore the city. It was a simple life, but a kind life, for the most part.
Have you been in many situations where your outer membrane has been damaged? And ooph, I'm sure it saves a fair bit, financially, since only one person in the house needs to really have laundry. Growing kids that don't need new clothes is probably a boon - let alone kids that may accidentally leave snail trails.
That honestly sounds like it would have been a bit alarming at first, but seems it worked out. What was having the two little ones like? I'm given to understanding Victor and Roberta are developing like human children, but are largely like you - how does it make you feel that you and Walter are essentially starting a new species?
And it sounds like your father was a good man; I would hope he wouldn't want you to feel guilty for something you weren't responsible for and couldn't help - and imagine he would be very proud of how you've grown... Given the above, would it be a safe assumption that you didn't have a mother?
That honestly sounds like it would have been a bit alarming at first, but seems it worked out. What was having the two little ones like? I'm given to understanding Victor and Roberta are developing like human children, but are largely like you - how does it make you feel that you and Walter are essentially starting a new species?
And it sounds like your father was a good man; I would hope he wouldn't want you to feel guilty for something you weren't responsible for and couldn't help - and imagine he would be very proud of how you've grown... Given the above, would it be a safe assumption that you didn't have a mother?
Marloes: More than a few times, honestly. Accidentally or intentionally, it does happen. Live as long as I have, you'll always have accidents, yes? And oh, yes. I am fortunate that clothe and laundry both are a less crucial expense. Really, we're quite fiscally sound to begin with, but every little thing helps!
And...Hmm...Well, I had not really thought of it like that...Now that you mention it, I suppose it is exciting...And a bit worrisome...That the children will have no peers like themselves. They are growing like weeds, though! Such wonderful little dears. I look away, and the next thing I know Roberta will be moving off to college, I swear! As for having them? Well...Nothing like a human, I assure you. No straining, no pain. It was more like simply...Splitting them off. A bit of me, all of the growth, and then it just grew together into a perfect little bundle.
And no mother; no. Father's wife was taken by plague, and he couldn't bring himself to wed again. I did have a strong female figure, in Father's female student, Paola. She was something of a treasure, that one. I think she loved father, but he was much older than her, and she was too shy to tell him. It nearly killed her when Father passed, but she stayed with me in the house and helped to watch his home and affairs. All of his students did, when they could; we were like a family. Paola was...Different, I think. She always was; wanting to learn science and alchemy, wanting to be more than just another woman in a world where she was expected to do so much and learn so little. I think I loved her like she loved father, in all honesty. When she passed, she was one of the last students to still live there. After that, it was just me for most of the rest of the time...Though there were visitors, of course. Some even welcome.
And...Hmm...Well, I had not really thought of it like that...Now that you mention it, I suppose it is exciting...And a bit worrisome...That the children will have no peers like themselves. They are growing like weeds, though! Such wonderful little dears. I look away, and the next thing I know Roberta will be moving off to college, I swear! As for having them? Well...Nothing like a human, I assure you. No straining, no pain. It was more like simply...Splitting them off. A bit of me, all of the growth, and then it just grew together into a perfect little bundle.
And no mother; no. Father's wife was taken by plague, and he couldn't bring himself to wed again. I did have a strong female figure, in Father's female student, Paola. She was something of a treasure, that one. I think she loved father, but he was much older than her, and she was too shy to tell him. It nearly killed her when Father passed, but she stayed with me in the house and helped to watch his home and affairs. All of his students did, when they could; we were like a family. Paola was...Different, I think. She always was; wanting to learn science and alchemy, wanting to be more than just another woman in a world where she was expected to do so much and learn so little. I think I loved her like she loved father, in all honesty. When she passed, she was one of the last students to still live there. After that, it was just me for most of the rest of the time...Though there were visitors, of course. Some even welcome.
I'm a little curiously why you would intentionally damage your own membrane, but still understand that accidents happen.
What is your home like? I know that you don't necessarily need to sleep, but do you rest with Walter at night in a traditional bed, or something different? Do your children have bedtimes, given their nature is close to yours?
I'm glad that you seem so happy in your domestic and work life - and I'm sure the kiddos were precious when they were babes. And I'm glad to hear that, at least for a time, you weren't entirely alone between when your father passed and when you were relocated... How difficult was that transition? And you said were welcome visitors in that time? I imagine meeting new people then would have been... Difficult, to say the least.
What is your home like? I know that you don't necessarily need to sleep, but do you rest with Walter at night in a traditional bed, or something different? Do your children have bedtimes, given their nature is close to yours?
I'm glad that you seem so happy in your domestic and work life - and I'm sure the kiddos were precious when they were babes. And I'm glad to hear that, at least for a time, you weren't entirely alone between when your father passed and when you were relocated... How difficult was that transition? And you said were welcome visitors in that time? I imagine meeting new people then would have been... Difficult, to say the least.
Sometimes I have to do something I know will hurt, but it needs to happen. Like getting in the way of Roberta sticking her hand into a lit candle flame when she was very young and didn't know any better, for example.
Our home is rather built around the comfort and convenience of Walter, so it's very traditional and quite nice. There are obviously special concessions made for the children and I; access tunnels made for liquids to move through, no carpets so we avoid extra messes. Walter and I have two sleeping arrangements; a shared bed similar to a water bed, with a sturdy rubberized surface that's easy to clean, and an in-floor basin that I can unwind in that he can...Well, sleep inside of me, so to speak. Somewhat submerged. Erg plakkerig! But he seems comfortable with it. And while I don't need to sleep, I can, and I find it enjoyable. So do the children, and their bedtime is promptly at ten. They get to stay up later than some of their friends, but they're growing, and I find that letting them dream helps them get a better handle on their imagination, which is crucial for their more unusual shape-changing abilities. Becoming something more than a blob of goo is rather like a mental exercise; Je buigt een spier om hem sterker te maken, ja?
The transition was complicated, but not entirely unpleasant. Learning English wasn't that hard, as I had learned some of it over the years. Around the second Great War, in fact, was when I had far too many visitors for my own liking. Verdomme nazi-uitschot, digging through my father's things and trying to use my home as a place to work from with their hideous schemes. The Allies did so much damage, but at least they drove those swine away. And a handful of young, handsome G.I.s came through, and...Well, loneliness and curiosity tends to go both ways, so to speak.
Other guests over time included alchemists trying to find my father's work, a few "ghost hunters" who were able to keep a secret, a handful of squatters that I didn't much mind. The mid-to-late 1960's and early 70's were the busiest, which should have been a sign I suppose. So many strange people, either on something or looking for something, and it wasn't like the ghost hunters, or the G.I.s, or even the one or two good germans who didn't WANT to be there during the war; half of the time they weren't right in the head. Fried, from too much of one thing or another, and terrible at keeping a secret. That's how I got "caught", really. Too many loose tongues flapping, and actual interest by real professionals instead of bored amateurs.
But meeting new people wasn't entirely that hard. We would talk for a long time before I'd agree to show myself, and before then they'd know enough to know what to expect. I'd let them know about father's work, but I tried not to let anyone know that I came from something else. I always worried someone would go looking for the place I came from, and that perhaps whatever I'm part of would get out...That it would want me back. Now I know that's very unlikely; my mind is a rare gift, and the source of my matter had no mind of its own. It was just...Life. Creation. Instinct. Rampant, uncontrolled change; a font of chaos. Not evil, but dangerous without a guiding consciousness. Ik heb heel veel geluk.
Our home is rather built around the comfort and convenience of Walter, so it's very traditional and quite nice. There are obviously special concessions made for the children and I; access tunnels made for liquids to move through, no carpets so we avoid extra messes. Walter and I have two sleeping arrangements; a shared bed similar to a water bed, with a sturdy rubberized surface that's easy to clean, and an in-floor basin that I can unwind in that he can...Well, sleep inside of me, so to speak. Somewhat submerged. Erg plakkerig! But he seems comfortable with it. And while I don't need to sleep, I can, and I find it enjoyable. So do the children, and their bedtime is promptly at ten. They get to stay up later than some of their friends, but they're growing, and I find that letting them dream helps them get a better handle on their imagination, which is crucial for their more unusual shape-changing abilities. Becoming something more than a blob of goo is rather like a mental exercise; Je buigt een spier om hem sterker te maken, ja?
The transition was complicated, but not entirely unpleasant. Learning English wasn't that hard, as I had learned some of it over the years. Around the second Great War, in fact, was when I had far too many visitors for my own liking. Verdomme nazi-uitschot, digging through my father's things and trying to use my home as a place to work from with their hideous schemes. The Allies did so much damage, but at least they drove those swine away. And a handful of young, handsome G.I.s came through, and...Well, loneliness and curiosity tends to go both ways, so to speak.
Other guests over time included alchemists trying to find my father's work, a few "ghost hunters" who were able to keep a secret, a handful of squatters that I didn't much mind. The mid-to-late 1960's and early 70's were the busiest, which should have been a sign I suppose. So many strange people, either on something or looking for something, and it wasn't like the ghost hunters, or the G.I.s, or even the one or two good germans who didn't WANT to be there during the war; half of the time they weren't right in the head. Fried, from too much of one thing or another, and terrible at keeping a secret. That's how I got "caught", really. Too many loose tongues flapping, and actual interest by real professionals instead of bored amateurs.
But meeting new people wasn't entirely that hard. We would talk for a long time before I'd agree to show myself, and before then they'd know enough to know what to expect. I'd let them know about father's work, but I tried not to let anyone know that I came from something else. I always worried someone would go looking for the place I came from, and that perhaps whatever I'm part of would get out...That it would want me back. Now I know that's very unlikely; my mind is a rare gift, and the source of my matter had no mind of its own. It was just...Life. Creation. Instinct. Rampant, uncontrolled change; a font of chaos. Not evil, but dangerous without a guiding consciousness. Ik heb heel veel geluk.
Oh dear - that can't have been pleasant, but definitely understand the why. That could have been worse.
Your arrangements certainly sound pleasant, though... Ahem... Is the second sleeping situation comfortable for you as well? I mean... I assume there's not much risk for him - though you do eat, and digest things that end up inside you, right? Also - I could see how that takes energy and focus, and imagine being well rested would be helpful... How hard is it for you to maintain a humanoid form? Is it instinctive, or something you constantly have to keep up?
Ergh... Well, I'm definitely glad that the change eventually went well - but it definitely sounds like some rough years, to be certain. Very glad that the Nazis didn't find you - though certainly am unsettled what they were trying to do with your father's work.... Or if they were trying to find where you came from.
You said that what you came from is mindless - do you have any memories or sense from before you became you?
And entirely unrelated - anyone that you'd currently call a good friend? Anyone that you and Walter do "Couples" things with, and anywhere around town you particularly like to spend time outside the house?
Your arrangements certainly sound pleasant, though... Ahem... Is the second sleeping situation comfortable for you as well? I mean... I assume there's not much risk for him - though you do eat, and digest things that end up inside you, right? Also - I could see how that takes energy and focus, and imagine being well rested would be helpful... How hard is it for you to maintain a humanoid form? Is it instinctive, or something you constantly have to keep up?
Ergh... Well, I'm definitely glad that the change eventually went well - but it definitely sounds like some rough years, to be certain. Very glad that the Nazis didn't find you - though certainly am unsettled what they were trying to do with your father's work.... Or if they were trying to find where you came from.
You said that what you came from is mindless - do you have any memories or sense from before you became you?
And entirely unrelated - anyone that you'd currently call a good friend? Anyone that you and Walter do "Couples" things with, and anywhere around town you particularly like to spend time outside the house?
Marloes: Oh, no, no. He's perfectly safe. I'd have to willfully begin to digest something, and of course there's the fact that the process for anything that isn't prepared or processed food is very slow. I haven't eaten a still-living thing in...Well, I can't actually remember, honestly. It might have been one of the bad Germans, but frankly it has been so long it's all fuzzy on that front.
When it comes to maintaining my humanoid form, I can manage a half-state, where only the "waist up" portion is shaped, indefinitely. I've had a very long time to practice and learn, and at this point it's a second nature to do so. Now, adopting and adapting new shapes, ones I'm unfamiliar with, is more difficult, and additional limbs add new levels of complexity, though I can easily do it. If I go past six limbs, I begin to get light headed, though; I think perhaps it's the limitation on how much mass I can shift and convert while maintaining my integrity. So I could become something akin to a Centaur, if the mood struck me, but it's much more difficult than a bipedal human form, which is much more difficult than simply having my upper body. For me, the half-way form is instinctive. Zo eenvoudig als knipperen!
I only let a couple of the Germans see me, though they were the young men who made it clear they didn't want to be there. The majority were just soldiers, and didn't hold dear any particular beliefs of their peers. I could trust a couple of them to keep a secret, and to make good choices. You'd be amazed how much you learn by lingering in the walls, floor and ceiling, watching the lives of people for weeks and months. The dynamic was very stark, especially when a new officer arrived and started making demands that they couldn't follow through on. A very self-defeating man, and one that ended up paying the price for his deeds. I know some of what they were looking for; they believed father had found something like the fountain of youth. I suspect it was the legends of his daughter having been brought back from the dead, of course. Rumors and hearsay, conflated stories of his unseen second daughter who mysteriously became known after the death of the first. I kept father's proper papers hidden, though. I still have them; S.3.R.A. made sure all of his documentation was collected.
I don't have memories from before, but more a vague sense of existence. There were instincts, and survival. I think, perhaps, I am just a lesser part of the whole. Maybe the reason I was so easily removed was because I was in some way inferior? It's hard to tell; my memories override the mindless past. I couldn't even tell you how long the source existed before being disturbed. Maybe forever.
I think Florence and I could be considered very good friends, and a nice Gremlin family that lives next door, the Hackneys, also frequently visit. Not sure what you mean by "Couples" things, though; like double dating, or...? As for spending time out of the house, I always enjoy shopping the open air markets around the Underground, and visiting the night-parks. Maybe I'm just instinctively drawn to luminescent plants in dark places, eh? Zo moeder zo dochter.
When it comes to maintaining my humanoid form, I can manage a half-state, where only the "waist up" portion is shaped, indefinitely. I've had a very long time to practice and learn, and at this point it's a second nature to do so. Now, adopting and adapting new shapes, ones I'm unfamiliar with, is more difficult, and additional limbs add new levels of complexity, though I can easily do it. If I go past six limbs, I begin to get light headed, though; I think perhaps it's the limitation on how much mass I can shift and convert while maintaining my integrity. So I could become something akin to a Centaur, if the mood struck me, but it's much more difficult than a bipedal human form, which is much more difficult than simply having my upper body. For me, the half-way form is instinctive. Zo eenvoudig als knipperen!
I only let a couple of the Germans see me, though they were the young men who made it clear they didn't want to be there. The majority were just soldiers, and didn't hold dear any particular beliefs of their peers. I could trust a couple of them to keep a secret, and to make good choices. You'd be amazed how much you learn by lingering in the walls, floor and ceiling, watching the lives of people for weeks and months. The dynamic was very stark, especially when a new officer arrived and started making demands that they couldn't follow through on. A very self-defeating man, and one that ended up paying the price for his deeds. I know some of what they were looking for; they believed father had found something like the fountain of youth. I suspect it was the legends of his daughter having been brought back from the dead, of course. Rumors and hearsay, conflated stories of his unseen second daughter who mysteriously became known after the death of the first. I kept father's proper papers hidden, though. I still have them; S.3.R.A. made sure all of his documentation was collected.
I don't have memories from before, but more a vague sense of existence. There were instincts, and survival. I think, perhaps, I am just a lesser part of the whole. Maybe the reason I was so easily removed was because I was in some way inferior? It's hard to tell; my memories override the mindless past. I couldn't even tell you how long the source existed before being disturbed. Maybe forever.
I think Florence and I could be considered very good friends, and a nice Gremlin family that lives next door, the Hackneys, also frequently visit. Not sure what you mean by "Couples" things, though; like double dating, or...? As for spending time out of the house, I always enjoy shopping the open air markets around the Underground, and visiting the night-parks. Maybe I'm just instinctively drawn to luminescent plants in dark places, eh? Zo moeder zo dochter.
Well, that's a relief - the Walter or anyone you personally care about being in any danger. Not necessarily surprised that you have actually eaten people, especially in that circumstance. Sometimes we have to do things we may not like because it's necessary... Annnd some people definitely seem like they deserve getting devoured by amorphous entities... Maybe not gorgeous, enticing ones, but that's besides the point!
That's definitely an interesting range - but I can get sticking with what feels natural/comfortable as far as your shapes. What's the most peculiar shape you can remember taking? What's the longest you kept a fully detailed human form - and what were the circumstances that led to that?
Erf... I can't say that I'm surprised - being quiet and unobtrusive when you're human can lead to others letting things slip. Actually being able to change your shape and hide in places no one could actually access - and easily slip away if someone tried - sounds like you would have had plenty of opportunities to eavesdrop. You could have been a handy spy if your interests were different. I'm glad to hear that they didn't get your father's important documents - and hope S.3.R.A. is using any knowledge gained from them for good purposes.
Hmm.... I suppose that makes sense, though I'd be hard pressed to imagine you as being an inferior specimen. Still, the possibilities of what your source might be capable of doing is both fascinating and terrifying. Probably for the best that it is, currently, unaccessable.
Oh, sorry - yes, I meant double dating. Or any families that you have "play dates" with for the kids - though I imagine the Hackneys fall into that category. And I can't imagine you're the only one drawn to such sights; I hear they're pretty spectacular.
That's definitely an interesting range - but I can get sticking with what feels natural/comfortable as far as your shapes. What's the most peculiar shape you can remember taking? What's the longest you kept a fully detailed human form - and what were the circumstances that led to that?
Erf... I can't say that I'm surprised - being quiet and unobtrusive when you're human can lead to others letting things slip. Actually being able to change your shape and hide in places no one could actually access - and easily slip away if someone tried - sounds like you would have had plenty of opportunities to eavesdrop. You could have been a handy spy if your interests were different. I'm glad to hear that they didn't get your father's important documents - and hope S.3.R.A. is using any knowledge gained from them for good purposes.
Hmm.... I suppose that makes sense, though I'd be hard pressed to imagine you as being an inferior specimen. Still, the possibilities of what your source might be capable of doing is both fascinating and terrifying. Probably for the best that it is, currently, unaccessable.
Oh, sorry - yes, I meant double dating. Or any families that you have "play dates" with for the kids - though I imagine the Hackneys fall into that category. And I can't imagine you're the only one drawn to such sights; I hear they're pretty spectacular.
Marloes: The only danger I present is to animals exposed to me for too long, or house plants. I can't have any potted plants, lest they begin to glow and start behaving oddly. The same goes for pets, which is a shame, because the children would love a dog, but we can't very well have it evolving four eyes and the ability to crawl on walls, yes? Also, it almost seems like you're trying to flatter me into "eating" you, yourself! Niet dat ik dat erg zou vinden, mooi.
The most peculiar shape? Probably something Centaur-like, as I said. It was so that I could run across town when I was almost late for a school meeting with Mrs. Johnston. The tram lines were being repaired, and I, like a gekke gans, forgot the meeting entirely. I had to leave my clothes behind, but nobody much minded; I just kept things "ill-defined". And the longest I kept a fully detailed human form...Mm...Meeting Walter's family, and staying with them for Thanksgiving a couple of years after the marriage. I even had to change coloration, so I wouldn't upset the rest of the family. Poor Walter, though. His mother is a dreadful woman; wouldn't stop nagging him. I kept that form for three days and bit my tongue, but finally I just...Snapped. I was tired of it, so I converted the dye out of myself and spit it into her face before I told her off. She knew I wans't human, but didn't know what I really was, and I just got so...So...URGH! It wasn't even belittling me that upset me; she was treating him like a foolish child. No shock that his father left that mean-spirited hag years ago. His father was a delightful little man, and I love him dearly. The kids always look forward to Opa Oswald coming to visit!
From what I know, S.3.R.A. is using father's work to make sure no one ELSE finds or accesses the source. It's too dangerous; I'm an anomaly that came out well, but they're worried what could be done with it if people of evil intent tried to replicate his research. They've found three other upwells of the source material, one in Italy, one in Brazil, and one in Arizona, and have collapsed all of them and had them legally marked as nuclear waste disposal sites to keep curious people from intruding. From what I hear, the Arizona one was the worst and the largest. Several agents died trying to handle the mutated wildlife.
And yes, the children frequently enjoy playing with the younger Johnston kids, though I have to make sure the play dates are held over here. Same goes for the Hackneys. For the Hackneys, it's because Gremlin homes are always crowded and busy, and I'm worried the children might break something expensive running around and being children. You know, as one might expect! And with the Johnstons...Well, I'll be honest, I don't mind the children learning about sex early and having a healthy attitude toward it, but maybe not THIS early. I know how Troll homes work; if they want to explore that aspect of themselves when they're old enough to, I'll be more than happy to let them do as they wish. We're thoroughly modern parents, after all, and appreciate that they're unique in this world. But I think I'd rather they not walk in on an orgy while looking for the Scrabble board.
The most peculiar shape? Probably something Centaur-like, as I said. It was so that I could run across town when I was almost late for a school meeting with Mrs. Johnston. The tram lines were being repaired, and I, like a gekke gans, forgot the meeting entirely. I had to leave my clothes behind, but nobody much minded; I just kept things "ill-defined". And the longest I kept a fully detailed human form...Mm...Meeting Walter's family, and staying with them for Thanksgiving a couple of years after the marriage. I even had to change coloration, so I wouldn't upset the rest of the family. Poor Walter, though. His mother is a dreadful woman; wouldn't stop nagging him. I kept that form for three days and bit my tongue, but finally I just...Snapped. I was tired of it, so I converted the dye out of myself and spit it into her face before I told her off. She knew I wans't human, but didn't know what I really was, and I just got so...So...URGH! It wasn't even belittling me that upset me; she was treating him like a foolish child. No shock that his father left that mean-spirited hag years ago. His father was a delightful little man, and I love him dearly. The kids always look forward to Opa Oswald coming to visit!
From what I know, S.3.R.A. is using father's work to make sure no one ELSE finds or accesses the source. It's too dangerous; I'm an anomaly that came out well, but they're worried what could be done with it if people of evil intent tried to replicate his research. They've found three other upwells of the source material, one in Italy, one in Brazil, and one in Arizona, and have collapsed all of them and had them legally marked as nuclear waste disposal sites to keep curious people from intruding. From what I hear, the Arizona one was the worst and the largest. Several agents died trying to handle the mutated wildlife.
And yes, the children frequently enjoy playing with the younger Johnston kids, though I have to make sure the play dates are held over here. Same goes for the Hackneys. For the Hackneys, it's because Gremlin homes are always crowded and busy, and I'm worried the children might break something expensive running around and being children. You know, as one might expect! And with the Johnstons...Well, I'll be honest, I don't mind the children learning about sex early and having a healthy attitude toward it, but maybe not THIS early. I know how Troll homes work; if they want to explore that aspect of themselves when they're old enough to, I'll be more than happy to let them do as they wish. We're thoroughly modern parents, after all, and appreciate that they're unique in this world. But I think I'd rather they not walk in on an orgy while looking for the Scrabble board.
So just "mundane" animals, not people? That's good - though I've got to agree, its a shame the kids can't have a puppy (either canine or of the sewer dog variety). I imagine there would probably be a market for some really weird creatures like that, BUT it's probably for the best... Do the same things happen with the kids as well, or no?
Annnnd... Uh... Wouldn't say that's what I'm trying to do - but...
Ahem. I imagine that no one was much bothered by it - the Underground seems kind of a "clothes optional" environment in some areas. Though, have to ask - how difficult is it to maintain "clothing" from your own mass? And what's your favorite style to "wear"? And dear god, Walter's mom sounds horrible - and you have my respect for your restraint and for coming to Walter's defense. No one's parents should treat them so awfully... Got to ask - was she at the wedding, and have the kids had to put up with her at all? Actually... What was your wedding like, overall?
And also - you can change your coloration with dyes? How much does it take, and how much effort does it take to incorporate and maintain such disguises?
And... Yeah, that makes sense on both fronts. There's wanting your kids to be comfortable with their bodies and have an understanding about the mechanics of things, and... Uh... Well, Troll family norms. Nothing wrong with Troll family norms, but they aren't for everybody.
Annnnd... Uh... Wouldn't say that's what I'm trying to do - but...
Ahem. I imagine that no one was much bothered by it - the Underground seems kind of a "clothes optional" environment in some areas. Though, have to ask - how difficult is it to maintain "clothing" from your own mass? And what's your favorite style to "wear"? And dear god, Walter's mom sounds horrible - and you have my respect for your restraint and for coming to Walter's defense. No one's parents should treat them so awfully... Got to ask - was she at the wedding, and have the kids had to put up with her at all? Actually... What was your wedding like, overall?
And also - you can change your coloration with dyes? How much does it take, and how much effort does it take to incorporate and maintain such disguises?
And... Yeah, that makes sense on both fronts. There's wanting your kids to be comfortable with their bodies and have an understanding about the mechanics of things, and... Uh... Well, Troll family norms. Nothing wrong with Troll family norms, but they aren't for everybody.
Marloes: Luckily, it seems the children aren't quite as "influential" with animal life and plants. I have to be in close proximity for a long while for it to be a problem, but obviously having something in the house would mean just that. I'm glad they won't have to worry about it later, at least.
It's not terribly easy to maintain clothing; more complex, and if I want it to move properly there's some measure of additional focus on that. I've gotten very good at multitasking over the years, though. As for my favorite style? I've always been very fond of the classic looks of the 1950's when I can manage it. Hair, clothing, everything about that era's fashion sense appeals to me. I don't know why; maybe I'm just old fashioned?
And yes, she is a miserable old bag. Neither Walter nor I have really had anything to do with her since. She's tried to apologize, but neither of us are buying into her nonsense anymore. She doesn't get to have her cake and eat it to; as far as the children know, they have no grandmother. And no, she was not at the wedding; Walter didn't really feel comfortable explaining the entire concept of Extranaturals to his parents, so we just...Bypassed them. It wasn't much; a civil service. Neither of us really had the money for a fancy wedding, and it didn't really suit us, either.
Dyes are tricky; it depends on the density and type. Some dyes distribute and wash out too much to be of any use, while others are so heavy they work fine, but tend to make me feel heavy and sluggish. I need to use quite a lot to get the colors I want, and it's especially tricky to keep up the disguise over long periods. Jongleerplaten!
And I don't hold anything against anyone for their lifestyle; I'll just give them plenty of time to get to the point where they're more mature before they can stay over, that's all.
It's not terribly easy to maintain clothing; more complex, and if I want it to move properly there's some measure of additional focus on that. I've gotten very good at multitasking over the years, though. As for my favorite style? I've always been very fond of the classic looks of the 1950's when I can manage it. Hair, clothing, everything about that era's fashion sense appeals to me. I don't know why; maybe I'm just old fashioned?
And yes, she is a miserable old bag. Neither Walter nor I have really had anything to do with her since. She's tried to apologize, but neither of us are buying into her nonsense anymore. She doesn't get to have her cake and eat it to; as far as the children know, they have no grandmother. And no, she was not at the wedding; Walter didn't really feel comfortable explaining the entire concept of Extranaturals to his parents, so we just...Bypassed them. It wasn't much; a civil service. Neither of us really had the money for a fancy wedding, and it didn't really suit us, either.
Dyes are tricky; it depends on the density and type. Some dyes distribute and wash out too much to be of any use, while others are so heavy they work fine, but tend to make me feel heavy and sluggish. I need to use quite a lot to get the colors I want, and it's especially tricky to keep up the disguise over long periods. Jongleerplaten!
And I don't hold anything against anyone for their lifestyle; I'll just give them plenty of time to get to the point where they're more mature before they can stay over, that's all.
Well, that's good - maybe they can have pets when they're off on their own - but I'm sure you're not in a rush to see those two grow up... Earlier, though - you'd mentioned something about Walter planning out the most efficient way to conceive your next child. Are you two thinking about trying for a new little bundle in the not too distant future?
Also - I can get that, and certainly makes sense if you keep clothes to a minimum. Again, not exactly a necessity, but I can still see liking the older styles. There's definitely an appeal to the 40s and 50s style, and it certainly suits you. And, on the point of the dyes - how often do you have to incorporate that into your appearance? It seems like it would be a lot of work to go through.
Annnd yeah, I can definitely understand not inviting the family to the wedding, or going all in on a big wedding. I'd probably do the same thing, and then maybe had a party with close friends afterwards. And I'm sure they're better off for the lack of grandma, unless she genuinely ever turns over a new leaf... Though, obviously, Walter's dad is part of the picture. How did he take learning about Extranaturals?
Also - I can get that, and certainly makes sense if you keep clothes to a minimum. Again, not exactly a necessity, but I can still see liking the older styles. There's definitely an appeal to the 40s and 50s style, and it certainly suits you. And, on the point of the dyes - how often do you have to incorporate that into your appearance? It seems like it would be a lot of work to go through.
Annnd yeah, I can definitely understand not inviting the family to the wedding, or going all in on a big wedding. I'd probably do the same thing, and then maybe had a party with close friends afterwards. And I'm sure they're better off for the lack of grandma, unless she genuinely ever turns over a new leaf... Though, obviously, Walter's dad is part of the picture. How did he take learning about Extranaturals?
Marloes: Oh, no, no. Most likely not. Just a joke, really. If he did want to, he'd let me know, of course. And I've learned that I have full control over that entire process. Nothing's happening without a discussion as to the matter. Hah. It just took two of them to get a grasp on how it all works, yes?
I never incorporate the dyes unless absolutely needed for SOME reason. Going out into the surface world isn't something I much have to worry about, and if I do, it's usually with proper company, and only for a brief time. One of my favorite places to go with the family is to the private, S.3.R.A. controlled shoreline near town. It's registered as a danger zone for whirlpools and offshore rocks, but it's actually just fine. Nobody goes there due to all of the restrictions, fines and what have you, so lots of X.T. folks like to visit. I can just be myself, so to speak; normally going "nude" if I can help it. I've actually gone on something like a small date to the shore there with Florence, as well. She wanted to get out, have some fun. We went swimming, which is...Fascinating, to say the least, for two amorphous beings. She introduced me to one of her Deep One beaus who lives offshore. But ah...That's another story entirely.
Funnily enough, Walter's father already knew about Extranaturals. He'd been in the army for quite sometime, and traveled the world. It's hard not to see things other people wouldn't believe, or so he says, though he doesn't like to discuss what happened during his military service. At least not about Extranaturals. He's a dear, sweet man, though. An absolute joy to talk to, full of stories and just the most welcoming soul. I think, perhaps, keeping secrets about his time in the army may have hurt his marriage and led to some resentment; I don't really know why exactly he and his wife split, but I know it's for the best. The children adore him, and he spoils them absolutely rotten. His favorite thing to do is to sneak in a chocolate orange for each of them, and then reward them with pieces for doing chores and helping him around the house. I told him that wiring my little ones up on chocolate meant he had to help get them to bed, but nooo, Opa knows best, he says. Silly goose that he is, he's always ready to sit down and tell them a story before bed, which takes a load off of Walter and I after a busy day of work and parenting.
I never incorporate the dyes unless absolutely needed for SOME reason. Going out into the surface world isn't something I much have to worry about, and if I do, it's usually with proper company, and only for a brief time. One of my favorite places to go with the family is to the private, S.3.R.A. controlled shoreline near town. It's registered as a danger zone for whirlpools and offshore rocks, but it's actually just fine. Nobody goes there due to all of the restrictions, fines and what have you, so lots of X.T. folks like to visit. I can just be myself, so to speak; normally going "nude" if I can help it. I've actually gone on something like a small date to the shore there with Florence, as well. She wanted to get out, have some fun. We went swimming, which is...Fascinating, to say the least, for two amorphous beings. She introduced me to one of her Deep One beaus who lives offshore. But ah...That's another story entirely.
Funnily enough, Walter's father already knew about Extranaturals. He'd been in the army for quite sometime, and traveled the world. It's hard not to see things other people wouldn't believe, or so he says, though he doesn't like to discuss what happened during his military service. At least not about Extranaturals. He's a dear, sweet man, though. An absolute joy to talk to, full of stories and just the most welcoming soul. I think, perhaps, keeping secrets about his time in the army may have hurt his marriage and led to some resentment; I don't really know why exactly he and his wife split, but I know it's for the best. The children adore him, and he spoils them absolutely rotten. His favorite thing to do is to sneak in a chocolate orange for each of them, and then reward them with pieces for doing chores and helping him around the house. I told him that wiring my little ones up on chocolate meant he had to help get them to bed, but nooo, Opa knows best, he says. Silly goose that he is, he's always ready to sit down and tell them a story before bed, which takes a load off of Walter and I after a busy day of work and parenting.
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