-= The Rendering Pit =-

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Table of Contents

The epilogues of 4 characters - each written by Rabidbadger with the exception of Genevieve's, which is written by me.

This isn't planned to be the last arc within The Rendering Pit, but we thought a little outro of our main stars for the chapter would be nice.

- - -

Nathan:
Nathan let out a groan as he opened his eyes, then immediately shut them again as the lights overhead proved far too intense to deal with on no notice. There was a moment where he was left disoriented, not entirely sure where he was – what he’d been doing before he passed out. It didn’t last past Nathan’s first jolt of awareness – that little shudder sparked his whole body wobbling precariously. He had gotten so large so fast the sheer weight of his body and how it moved in response to even little stimuli remained quite foreign.

Foreign and inconvenient, but that had been the problem to solve. That had been why he went to Lambda’s dorms after a bit of heavy reviewing of the options he had open to him after donating his fabric design to the school. It had been the most bizarre dichotomy in there, but it had also been encouraging in its own strange way. There was a healthy mix of the athletic side of the student body and the adipose-encased side alike, and they were curiously supportive of one another. They also seemed to have no problems with mobility, which was the whole point.

All it had taken was a brief interview with a very bottom-heavy raccoon to get him access for that day, and that had led to a lot of hours talking to people who had firsthand experience with body augmentation. Something that, while intimidating, had been a great deal more effective at helping him make decisions than just paging through brochures.
Sliding off the recovery bed, Nathan felt all the profound weight of his body settle around him as he touched the floor – and then he didn’t. Not so much anyway. The strain of his knees and hips eased, a few scattered bunches of muscles in his back pulled involuntarily in a way that made his posture straighten, made his belly tuck a bit and eased his center of gravity closer to his middle. Nathan felt a cool rush of something in his legs and his back that dulled the edge of the effort it took to stand there to something approaching what it had been like before Monica’s infernal program left him with this body.

Hurrying over to the recovery room’s mirror, Nathan was somewhat shocked that he was capable of hurrying period. The speed he could muster was understandably limited by his balance, but that was the only lingering problem. Better yet, when he reached the mirror he saw precisely what he expected. Himself. Granted, a lot of himself, but just that – no visible cybernetics or implants or replacement limbs. The framework was all internal they had said, skeletal reinforcement and a few small microchemistry nodules that would release natural stimulants into his major muscle groups when they were needed.

Lambda Nihil Interit had taken care of the procedure in house, some of the augmentations were things students in the group owned, but apparently had no problems sharing with prospective members.

Nathan kept staring, watching the soft, swaying heaps of flesh that were now and forever apart of his life move. The part of it he was still learning to deal with was enjoying it a little, the swaying and wobbling was kind of nice – not that he expected he’d be admitting that any time soon. There was just so much of him now – he’d only used about a tenth of the hard pudge his body had grown to handle the driver software for his implants as it was. There was a phenomenal amount of space left to work with, but with his immediate problems taken care of (sort of) Nathan had to think about what to do next.

The answer that came to him had been a lot like the last couple problems he had, solve the issue himself. Figure out how to fill the rest of the space inside with things he developed, later. The raccoon had suggested that, while levitating what looked like a miniature wedding cake. Something about not taking the idea of leaving empty space empty for granted. The cake had been eaten in a single bite after that, but the inspiration lingered.

A soft ping came from across the room, the origin of which turned out to be his student’s tablet – currently laying atop a pile of his clothing that Nathan realized he was going to have to try to get back into now. Waddling up to the thing, if only to stop its beeping, Nathan was surprised (and felt a sharp chill down his newly reinforced spine) to find the address of the sender listed as the headmistress.

For a moment, Nathan went through a brief panic attack. A horrible momentary fear that somehow this had all turned around and gone wrong while he was unconscious, that she was going to tell him the fabric didn’t work after all and now he was liable for all the costs of this, and-

Nathan,

Hello! I wanted to let you know we’ve gotten the installation finished and was wondering if you wanted to be present when we activate it for the first time? We’ll be doing so in the entrance hall in about half an hour, but we can stall for maybe fifteen minutes if we have to. Either way, the school is grateful for this. Hope to see you!

-Headmistress Seraphina

Letting a heavy breath out, feeling fear and tension fall off him like water down his back, Nathan shivered and clenched his fingers. It mystified him that even that simple gesture resulted in a noticeable feeling of his body’s thickness squeezing in on itself. He took another breath, squeezed his hand another time or two, then looked over the heap of clothing.

The issue of how awkward he was at this size was going to take some creativity to solve, but he’d get that sorted out eventually. In the meantime? He doubted this kind of invitation happened often, and as much as the Headmistress terrified him a little he was curious what they were going to do.

Nathan thumbed out a reply quickly, then corrected it twice after his pudgy fingers missed a key or two.
Headmistress,
Be right there!
-Nathan

- - -

Rigel

Rigel took a slow breath. The air down in the underworks was humid, but not unpleasant. If anything he rather liked it, possibly moreso now that he was whatever he was. The room’s other inhabitants seemed to enjoy it too, some more than others, but then a lot of them didn’t actually have proper skin anymore.

“S-so what happened? Sorry, I uh, I got…”

Chuckling, Rigel gave the heaving purple mass next to him a playful elbowing that sent it swaying gently back and forth – and which also got the shiny pink mouse’s brief attention.
“Some kind of genetic hybridization, probably a little like what happened to you I guess? Only organic instead of silicone-based. Also alcoholic.”

A heavy snort set the giant purple thing beside Rigel swaying gently, it also made the next answer quite a lot clearer sounding.

“W-wait, what?! Seriously? …can I try some?”

The question left Rigel jiggling a bit as he began laughing, looking down into the screen of his tablet and the video chat it was hosting even though the person he was talking to was literally providing the back rest for him at the moment. Somewhere up above there was a drone holding a tablet up that managed to get most of the immense badger’s face in frame, so the two of them were making it work.

“I mean, like… I can get some sent down sure. I can just give it to one of the drones, right? Getting it straight from the tap is a bit intimate for a former roommate though.”

There was a dull whine from somewhere up above, but it was interrupted by Rigel seeing the badger’s fluffy face mooshed in by a fully coated mouse hugging it and then ruffling his hair. Something which just got another giggle out of Rigel.

“Well they do seem to be taking good care of you down here at least.”

Rigel could feel the chuckle through the badger’s smooth textured body before he even heard it.

“Yeah! It’s uh, it’s weird and all, but I mean – it’s also nice? And kind of… fulfilling. I mean, I can try to go into that if you want, but it doubles down on the weird.”

Watching the badger try to look embarrassed while he fidgeted with just his cheeks, impressive in its own right, left Rigel laughing a bit harder than he intended. It didn’t seem to bother the badger overmuch though, Samuel weathered it while letting the mouse stuff a few cupcakes into his loose and wobbling jowls (not that he had much choice).

“Go for it man, weird is getting to be kind of normal. Sort of.”

There was a moment where Rigel saw the badger go kind of vacant, during which he saw the mouse touching some of the purple-coated bits of him. It was brief, but as soon as it ended Samuel snapped to attention as if he’d dozed off.

“Ngh- that – w-oh! Heh. It uh, they’re… I mean, we’re kind of… family? A little. Everything is just open, all our hearts are on our sleeves for each other, and they take care of me – and each other – and all of you. In my case because I’m sort of a queen?”

Steadfastly failing to keep a straight face, Rigel found himself wiggling a bit against Samuel’s enormous middle and smacking his hand on the ground in an effort to maintain.
“Yup! Sort of, entirely. I bet they could find a dress that goes with your new color.”

A cupcake wrapper came floating down after that, landing atop Rigel’s nose and leaving him snuffling it off while he watched the mouse come back into frame, looking triumphant.
“I’m not the only one with a new color!”

Finally getting some kind of hold on himself, Rigel still couldn’t help grinning through his swollen cheeks.

“Fair. Heh. Hwurph. Ooph… always tastes like fruit when I do that now, and yeast. I – oop, wait a sec, getting a message.”

Rigel squinted at the screen of his tablet, using the end of his sleeve to wipe a bit of blue mist off it and only half succeeding as the sticky substance smeared a little. It was a message, one that he wished was in larger font or something, or that his screen would brighten a bit, but apparently the room had strict rules about light sources and the tablets knew that.

“Meeting… in. Oh. New students coming in, asking if I wanna go watch the ceremony with the – oh jeez.

For a moment Rigel considered it, but as he shifted himself where he sat a little he realized that with the soft and yielding wall of flesh he was resting against and nothing useful to leverage himself on he was going to need help getting up. He could probably convince Samuel to talk to a drone or two to do that, but in all honesty he didn’t want to leave so soon.

Luckily, other ideas presented themselves.

Hey! I’m visiting Samuel right now in the underworks. Think you could stream for us from there? I wanna see this but even if I thought I could get off my butt right now I doubt I’d make it in time, and I don’t want to bail on him. Honestly, I think he’d like to watch too, if that’s okay? Give him a little slice of normal again, help him keep centered.

A couple of moments passed before a quick ‘bing’ sound answered, and Rigel smiled once more and tilted his head back.

“Hey Sam, open this video feed I’m about to send you.”



- - -

Monica

The rabbit fidgeted in her seat, feeling thoroughly terrified as she waited on what felt like word of her impending execution. She was wringing her hands, something she’d never really understood whenever she heard about it before. Sometimes a cheap romance audio would mention it, but they had just been words. Now she was staring at herself as she did it, at the mismatched clouds of color her fur still bore after the strange mixture she gave that mouse months ago had left her fur dyed permanently since exposure to the mist the rodent had burped out.

It was absurd that she was afraid right now. Monica had escaped that rogue AI taking control of those security bots, she’d ended up on Corona and taken control of it for like… a week! Then that fox and the blimp had ruined things, but nobody ever really ruled Corona for more than a week anyway, and she got off the pirate casino alive and free. Mostly. There had been that bounty, but that’s why she was here now.

Well, no, strictly speaking she was here now because of Nathan. It seemed absurd, all she did was make him fat – why that should get her in trouble in the Rendering Pit she didn’t know.

“Maybe it didn’t…? Maybe I’m just overreacting, and-”

The door creaked as it opened behind her. Monica found that just as absurd as the hand wringing, and for similar reasons. The doors here were standard magnetic sealing sliders, or at least all of them but the one to the headmistress’ office were. This thing had hinges, and if they creaked it had to be because the aging white-furred bear carrying that honest to Chrome walking stick wanted it to. Damn pre-industrial retro enthusiasts.

“I assure you, you really are in trouble.”

Monica’s hands clenched hard enough that she hurt herself a little, but she didn’t turn to look. The act didn’t spare her for long though, a heavy paw came down on her shoulder after a couple of equally hard footfalls.

“You assaulted a fellow student and did so by way of violating their internal nanotech architecture’s core operating system.”

The hand squeezed a little, which Monica couldn’t help but squeak in fear over. She didn’t move though, which just meant she was still sitting frozen when the lumbering polar bear eased in around the hardwood desk in the office and took a seat.

For a few agonizing seconds the headmistress just stared, during which time Monica felt a crawling dread in her mind about her situation. As if the longer the silence went on, the worse the consequences were going to be. That didn’t necessarily make it a relief when the headmistress spoke.

“Somehow I suspected you wouldn’t apologize. I doubt you’d mean it if you did. I know the gist of it, sorry you got caught – not that you did it.”

Monica chuckled nervously. Enough so that it was barely a laugh anymore.
“That uh, that-”

The bear raised her hand and Monica saw a flash, felt something curiously familiar. She couldn’t seem to move, or rather she couldn’t finish the thought she was trying to string together about moving. Her mind remained stuck even as she saw the bear speaking, heard it, felt it – though everything else around them had gone profoundly and unnaturally silent.

“I will be blunt, dear. What you’ve done is grounds, at least, for drone conversion. I’ve decided on another course, however.”

Watching the headmistress move, Monica found it uncomfortable to look at. The bear shifted a little in her seat, leaned back some, steepled her fingers. Monica could swear there was a kind of heat haze around every inch of space the bear had occupied before but no longer did.

“You’re going to walk me through how you broke through the security on his architecture and we’re going to dissect your program’s code together, and then you’re going to stick around as my intern.”

The urge to swallow some of her fear was desperate, but Monica couldn’t quite make her body do it. Couldn’t even get the thought through her mind.

“I’ll figure out some sort of appropriately educational punishment for you later. For now? You can wait here until I get back from orientation for the newest students. I’ll only be gone a second.”

Monica shuddered inside as she watched space rend itself around the bear when she moved. She desperately wanted to stop looking at it, but her eyes wouldn’t close. The headmistress rose and returned to her side, touching her shoulder again. Out of the corner of her eye Monica could see the bear leave, but she still felt the fingertips on her shoulder.

“It may be rather longer than most seconds you’ve experienced up until now, but I assure you that’s all it will be.”

Once more, Monica heard the creaking of the office door.

“Stay put, little bunny.”

There hardly seemed any choice in the matter. Monica sat and stared at the cringing, warping afterimages of the space before her and waited.

“I’ll be right back.”

As the door closed the room darkened, sparing Monica the view that was making her thoughts itch so horribly in her head. She still couldn’t seem to move though, or think particularly clearly, but that might be for the best.

All she would’ve been thinking about was the worst-case scenario anyway, and she could live without that.

At least, she hoped so.





- - -

Genevieve

Genevieve found herself standing in the familiar hallway, outside of Tiffany’s door. She’d been procrastinating the decision to talk to her for a long time, ever since she’d woken up to find a pig’s snout had replaced her once elegant, vulpine muzzle. But she couldn’t hide in the cafeteria any longer. Nor could she avoid processing the flood of emotions that had plagued her since she discovered her love of gorging. The trough, even now, tickled at the back of her mind, an errant thought that struggled to distract her from her purpose.

A single knock away.

Her fist hung in the air, and the familiar doubts she had felt, came back to her. What if she didn’t like her anymore? What if the nose was too much? What if she was too fat? What if she was angry that Genevieve had gone missing? A million what-ifs, and the answers were a knock away, if only she could bring herself to-

Knock. Knock.

There. It was done. The seconds were becoming unbearable.

The door opened with a soft, quiet, ‘shoosh’ noise, and behind it was the familiar visage of the jackal Genevieve had come to know and regard with fondness. Tiffany was as beautiful as ever. Her athletic figure might have melted away behind a few dozen pounds, but her eyes sparkled with golden flecks and what Genevieve was sure was more than one ocular implant.

“Well long time no see stranger! Jeez, disappear off the map why don’t you?”

“I... uh...” Genevieve stammered, not sure what to do. She braced herself for the inevitable. For the accusations, and declarations of hate.

“Well, don’t just stand there, come on in big girl. We got some catching up to do.” And just like that, Tiffany had grabbed Genevieve’s hand and was leading her into her dormitory room. The smaller jackal leading the much larger, slow waddling pig-fox hybrid towards the lounge where they’d spent many nights watching comically bad horror vids and gorging on popcorn and snacks. Genevieve’s bee drone rushed in the door behind her, as though to give some semblance of backup, but suddenly Genevieve didn’t feel like she needed it.
There was no shouting, no hate. Tiffany sat her down and, both hands clasped around one of Genevieve’s she asked, “Are you okay? What’s been going on?”

And that was it.

Genevieve explained the pig nose, the added weight, Tiffany didn’t seem to mind. In fact she was fascinated, if anything. At one point in the conversation she asked if she could touch it and, blushing, Genevieve allowed her to. She felt the jackal’s delicate fingers brush along the sensitive skin of her porcine snout and it was all she could do not to snort at the tickling sensation that followed. It wasn’t unpleasant, by any degree. What had been a trip Genevieve had dreaded, quickly had turned into something else. Something far, far more happy for the mixed up vulpine-pig.

Though, things weren’t all rosy. She told Genevieve she was disappointed that the girl hadn’t come to her sooner, that she had allowed herself to worry and fuss, and let that fuss isolate her. But there wasn’t much that could be done about that now, and she certainly wasn’t going to let it distress her. From there, the rest of the afternoon devolved into talking about mundane things. Happy things. The latest menu changes in the cafeteria. The latest rumours surrounding a Custodiet Supra Cartogres member. Things that seemed to matter less and less, the more anyone thought of them. It was time spent, lounging on the couch, Genevieve’s stomach pushing her legs far apart and pushing out further than her knees, with Tiffany leaning against her, arm draped lazily over the fox-pig’s gut, scratching and kneading it gently. Something that was sorely needed.

The pair’s conversation was interrupted, however, as Genevieve’s tablet beeped loud enough to get their attention.

“Oh chrome!” She grunted, leaning over enough to dig it out of the fold between her gut and her thighs, “I knew I forgot something. Professor V said she was going to send me a message later today, couldn’t tell me what about though.” It was something the pig-fox felt for a moment like she ought to panic over, after all, anything the professors sent students was usually something to panic over, and Professor Victoria had a track record of piling new and waist expanding duties onto Genevieve’s already overloaded plate. But she couldn’t stir herself up enough to panic. With Tiffany by her side, it was hard not to feel like any new challenge she might face, she would have the strength to face, head on.

The tablet was sweat covered and a little greasy when she manipulated it into her hands, but wiping the grease off was easy enough and she quickly accessed the message.
Genevieve,

Good work on your project, once again. The Headmistress and I have invited some of your friends to come see the fruits of your combined labour, up in the orientation hall. With everyone in attendance, it would be a shame if you weren’t there.

-Professor Victoria

Reading it, the letter felt like an invitation that wasn’t really an invitation. She could technically decline, but it didn’t seem wise. Especially since students being invited to the orientation ceremony by the Headmistress was almost unheard of.

“I’d better take this one.” Genevieve said, shifting her bulk around so that she could start getting up. That process in and of itself, would take minutes.

Tiffany whined, “Already? It feels like you only just got here...” The pig-fox’s ears wiggled a little, and she felt a blush creep across her cheeks. It was nice to be wanted.

“Yeah, but it shouldn’t take me too long. Meet up for dinner later, maybe?”

“Count on it!” Tiffany grinned, and Genevieve set to writing out a reply.

Professor Victoria,
I’m on my way now.
- Genevieve