The Depot

This is set in the "Tales from the Blind Pig" universe.

beep beep beep Beep Beep BEep BEep BEEp BEEp BEEP BEEP ::wham!::

I hate alarm clocks. Even turned down most of the way, they still annoy the hell out of me. I lifted my paw from this one. Still intact, fortunately. That had gotten to be a rather expensive habit of mine, although this was was semi-custom built to stand up to the abuse of my massive paw hitting it at 6 in the morning. I stretched out about half way, paws against one side of the wall, tail brushing against the other. The room itself was rather spartan. I didn't need a bed after I got my SCABS-induced make-over, so I had sold it along with quite a few other thing that I could not use. Other stuff I had simply given away, or thrown out. I had enough normal people help me that some people passing by thought that I had died. A few, after seeing me were certain of it, even though I was sitting there talking to them.

After my little stretch and yawn (which tends to scare people if done in public), I pawed out to the living room. Kerry, my roomie/SCAB/good friend had already gotten up and had made breakfast. Kerry looks like a normal person, until you look at her drivers license. The Flu played monkey with her aging processes. The technical term is a semi-looping chronomorph. She will age normally for a month, then loop back that month. But it occurs every other month. She's told me that it plays hell with your body's "normal" cycles, and I belive her. Anyway, she works in an audio studio for a living, and her route to work allows her to drop me off on her way, although I still sometimes ride the bike. My routine is rather quick: a good stretch, a quick grooming to hit the spots that look funny, and then breakfast. Kerry sometimes volunteers to help with the grooming, especially if it's in a spot that I can't get to (like right behind my head, for example). I sometimes think that she enjoys using the fur comb on me as much as I like being on the receiving end.

Breakfast is over, and I am riding in Kerry's car to work. I got rid of the help desk, as the callers were starting to drive me psychotic, and a psychotic tiger is not what you want roaming the streets. I had heard about that tiger back east, and it gave me quite a scare. I hoped to God, if there was one, that I never turned into somthing like that. My new job is at a repair facility. This job uses my skills a bit more, but it tires me out, as I end up shifting a bit throughout the day. Today might be different, though. I've been trying a new type of morphic form, and this should shock at least one person. This form has a higher lifting limit (about 200 pounds), and a much longer time limit. The testing with the doctor was great, as it was him that suggested the form. He mentioned somthing about a plateu form, one that can stay in shape longer them a morphic. So I tried it, and I liked it. I can run almost this whole day like this, which is good. Shifting gets to be quite tiring when i have to rest an equal amount of time that i spend morphed. I walk in, say my good mornings, and start on my workload. The first item is something that I normally would need help getting, as it's a rather heavy printer.

In my area, where I have some privacy, I invoke my shifting ability and focus on my form. I feel my body slowly elongating in front of my fore limbs, twisting to an angle, and an extra set of limbs appears right where they are supposed to. The invocation done, I open my eyes. Perfect!. I grunt a bit, discover that I've regained a semblance of what my voice was. I take off the voder, and turn to get the printer off the shelf where it has been placed, my four paws making nigh a sound as they keep steady contact with the floor as I carry the printer back to my work area. The depot manager is a bit shocked at seeing me in my taur form, but realizes that I can now get more done, and with less hassle. He's smiling though.

Four hours later

I ate the extra large lunch that I had packed with gusto, and realized that I was still quite hungry. I looked downward, and realized that I had quite a bit of extra mass, which explained why I was quite hungry still. I noticed that the front office was just placing their order, so I added a bit to it. I went into my area, and mentally checked my stability. So far, So good. I might make it the whole day.

Two hours later

::Ring!:: Yes? Ok, I guess. oh, they do, eh? Ok. ::click:: I hung up the phone. Great. A customer wants to "talk to the tech" to put in a special request, or to see who is going to fix his or her system. I figure this should be fairly interesting. I've seen some people take their system straight out the door after seeing that a SCAB worked there, once leaving the $50 estimate fee that the shop requires. Some people...

I walk out and the customer's jaw just about hits the counter. He's obviously never seen a taur before, but SCABs that can even morph are still somewhat of a novelty. Most work quite hard to not let on to the fact that they can shift at all. He recovers quickly though, and the session turns into a "If it's possible, try and do this or that" type of things, most of which I was happy to oblige him. We finished up the conversation, I took the note pad on which I was writing these things down on, and attached it to the work order. I then went back and finished up on the system I was working on. Work has it's bright spots on occasion...

The end of the working day came, and I was still holding my taur form. I was quite impressed with myself. I did have to change myself back, in order to fit into Kerry's car. I might give her a ride this weekend...