The last profile for a bit. Now I can switch back to story writing! Hooray!

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Height: 7’ (2.1m)
Age: early 30s
Abilities: Sizeshifting
Occupation: Head of Micron Corp. R&D

Appearance

Congratulations. You drew the short straw. The office heaved a sigh of relief; your co-workers offered their condolences, said their goodbyes and their ‘wish it was me’ platitudes, and then helped themselves to your belongings. You wouldn’t be needing them anymore: it fell on you, Micron Corp. R&D Division employee #913, to march into Ruby’s office to give her the bad news about the latest snag in the project. That snag in - her - project is the reason why toes the size of dinner plates at an all-you-can-eat buffet are grinding your worthless body into the floor right now. And they’re getting heavier. And larger. Ribs groan, lungs compress, flesh spreads. The more the excuses pour from your mouth, the more her thick padding floods and forces itself down your throat to silence your miserable whining. Fists beat against paw, fingers kneading swelling toes to shove her ever growing weight off of you. But Ruby enjoys this sensation. This terrified, squirming thing wriggling beneath her sole, powerless to stop her. The unavoidable worship you offer to her most prominent assets. “It’s natural,” she assures you, her voice as cold as her sapphire glare, “to assume this position.” She offers you a second chance – the opportunity to join something greater. All you have to do is call her goddess, and listen carefully to the voices who sing her endless praises.


History

Divinity has always fascinated Ruby. She was an avid reader of ancient mythology as a child, obsessed with tales of ages past, folklore and legends from around the world revolving around gods and goddesses - great beings of incredible power, unparalleled beauty, and immense size who shaped the world according to their whims. Stories of mortals and their brush with greatness were a particular favorite of hers, for the awed narrators spoke of the incredible power these deities wielded with reverence: how a god could bless the parched lands of his worshippers with rain and drown the unfaithful and their cities beneath torrential waves. How an avian goddess of great size and redness, thiccness and enormous bust could carve valleys with a single step, the simplest of things, to an upstart pretender into submission and service. How their boundless power and overwhelming charisma drew in followers and expanded their flock, who in turn empowered their deity with their praise, their sacrifices, and killed and conquered in their glorious name. She devoured these sagas, one after another without pause, and soon their words began to resonate within her.

The more myths of these mighty gods and goddesses she consumed, the more she was convinced she was one of them. After all, there were undeniable signs: she had special privileges in school afforded to nobody else, held her many inferiors and deluded superiors under her sway, and earned top marks in every subject. Proof of her indomitable will, beauty, and staggering intellect. Whatever she wanted, her parents provided and then some. And they knew how to make bad people go away. The mark of her influence and charisma. How many more checkmarks did a would-be goddess need to tick? Pointing out her sway and status came from mommy and daddy’s wallet and the faceless corporation called Micron Corp. they just happened to own did not deter her conviction, but fueled her belief that her birth was the work of blessed divine providence. She was destined to join her brothers and sisters, and nobody would stop her.

As she grew older, she became more and more convinced that the world had somehow became aware of her budding divinity, and was trying everything in its power to stop her ascension. Nobody believed her claims – none but depraved paw sluts, that is, who were eager to call her their goddess. And there were rumors, tabloids claiming the Micron Corp. heiress had been seen going to offices for psychiatric help. Frustrations and setbacks dampened her spirits, but she would not be deterred from her goal. And one day, fate intervened in her favor once more: she was to be given a job at Micron Corp. Clerical work. Her parents, so high and mighty, but only mortal extensions of her glory, were hesitant to offer her a position, but they hoped that actual work would clear her mind, and help her forget about all of this nonsense. She immediately asserted her will upon her superiors and inferiors alike, forcing them to call her goddess and create items of power specifically for her, or taste her unspeakable wrath. Not wanting to stir controversy by firing their daughter, out of fear she’d do something truly damaging to the corporation, they transferred her to the R&D division, and then gave her an office and a fancy title hoping it would appease her. They gave her new team explicit orders not to allow her to participate in the creative process. Let her think up things, smile and nod, then chuck her ideas into the bin, and get back to work.

It did not take long for Ruby to break their resolve, to make the majority of her division scrape their knees and bow to her in submission. Better to seek forgiveness from the shareholders than deny the furious predator seeking godhood. Opposition still exists. A resolute few within her domain who deny her, who defy her by conspiring with her parents to keep her from ascending to her rightful status. They too will falter, and call her goddess.


Abilities

Being relegated to a token role within Micron Corp. rather than being given official control of R&D has not stopped Ruby’s growing influence over the division and its creative processes from being manipulated, despite the protests of her defiant underlings and her parents’ stymied attempts at controlling her. Her contribution is heavy-handed interference during conceptual development meetings – steering the gathering of minds towards flipped chairs, smashed tables, and cowering eggheads capitulating to her furious demands to create a wholly different product from what Marketing envisioned and what R&D were tasked with designing. Product testing means incessant orders from Ruby for her creations to be made more potent and longer-lasting, far beyond their original specifications, leaving her overeager guinea pigs drowning in silica gel after touching the pressure-activated shoe freshener insole: MicroSole™, and tits, balls, and dicks permanently bwoomp-ing to the size of buses instead of concealing baps and bits in Micron Corp.’s shameless pandering to the self-conscious hyper-endowed turbo nerd: The Bra (and Briefs) of Holding™.

Looming deadlines force Marketing and Manufacturing to push her extravagant interpretation of their designs out the door, so merchandise can reach store shelves on time. Their ill-fated debut is met with sticker shock, hesitation at seeing warning labels heftier than the item they came with. But they find their way into the homes of reckless and depraved thrill-seekers (you know who you are) and naïve impulse shoppers alike, who are more than capable of absorbing the cost. Micron Corp.’s shareholders are frustrated by the owners’ inability to relocate their daughter to a more harmless position, why Ruby persists in making dents in the profits of the corporation she so thoroughly despises. Some employees joke that she makes these products for herself. These employees vanish from company records the following day were given a generous early retirement package as thanks for their tireless service.

All that pent-up rage boils and seethes inside of her. Her hatred of Micron Corp. and the staggering incompetence of its brainless drones and her frustration with the ceaseless delays in attaining godhood grow by the day. And with nowhere to be vented but upon her terrified minions, whose bodies are deemed corporate property who are protected by stringent health and safety laws, that anger goes up and out. Ruby harnesses her ire towards the Corp., sunshine and lollipops, Mondays and you, and that fury feeds her body size and strength. She never seems to swell beyond 12ft., but when her trembling lackeys immediately cave in to her demands at the pressure of a toe the size of a dinner plate resting on their skull, why bother getting any bigger? It is not known if she’s capable of growing any bigger, or if her tool of oppression is simply just that. Nobody’s stupid enough to piss her off and die trying just to find out.


Personality

Swiftly angered by incompetence, easily enraged by the inefficiencies of R&D, her lack of absolute control over her division, and the relentless profit-driven hunger of the Corporation and its lofty leaders, her enmity knows no boundaries and none are spared her wrath. The root of her hatred is simple: in Ruby’s head, she is perfection. Her methods are flawless, her ideas foolproof, her logic faultless, her will unyielding. If anything goes wrong, it’s someone else’s fault. Your fault. You couldn’t follow her instructions because you lack two brain cells to rub together. Or worse, they decided to meddle in her dominion, and you were the idiot they tasked with sabotaging her. Her naked contempt for unabashed capitalism and you lies in her cold, sapphire eyes, that icy death glare that says to the world you are worth less than the dirt on her paws. Pity the poor sap who must report to her. Claiming her designs are too complex, or her ideas are beyond the scope of the budget, or her demands have become impossible to meet, results in them becoming intimate with her sole and the staff of the ICU. Being the bearer of bad news turns the wolfess into a ticking time bomb, a woman ranting about the ineptitude she is surrounded by, bemoaning the wasted potential of yet another product relegated to minimizing the costs of transportation that will line the shareholders’ pockets when it should have been used to glorify her instead.

That bitterness explodes into size. Size she uses to vent her frustrations upon her office furniture, her cowering messenger, as she lectures them on what she would do if she were in charge. Her initially sane ideas on corporate restructuring turn toward unhampered research and unrestricted funding, undisputed control over R&D and its products, and how they will longer be chained to the almighty quarterly earnings report. This quickly veers into delusions and descends into full-blown fantasy: a world where she is worshipped as its all-powerful goddess, where all praise her name and give themselves to her completely, mind, body, and soul, in service to her glory and her literal days of perfect paws, where having a continent crushed under a single toe is as great a blessing she can bestow upon the masses. Which means the messenger being ground into the floor beneath her paw has just found themselves on her “Worship Me or Die” list.


Hobbies & Interests

The days Ruby deigns to stay home are met with a collective sigh of relief that rattles the windows of Micron Corp. The same can’t be said for her servants, who must now tend to their mad, would-be goddess hand and foot. Mornings begin at her lavish estate. Rising from her grand bed of lush fabrics is met with praise and prayer, for her awakening blesses the world with her presence once more. Failure to praise her hard enough results in suffocation. Next is her morning bath, where her servants must tend to her body, head to toe. Any who fail at this task becomes her floor towel. Ditching corporate-approved wear, she dons the cloth of the ancient gods, ornate dresses with rich royal tones, adorned with gold trimming and silver filigrees. Equally exquisite bangles and anklets and necklaces adorn her form as she then makes the rounds. Her manse is more akin to a renaissance museum dedicated to herself than a residence for the rich. It is filled to the brim and beyond with baroque decadence, extravagant architecture with godly motifs abound, black marbled columns and ornate decorations rising to lofty ceilings within her sprawling halls of narcissistic opulence. Frescoes line the walls and ceilings where they depict a deified Ruby, statues of her likeness bear religious iconography, and there are more sacred paintings of her that would make the gods themselves fume with jealousy.

It is within this sprawling mansion she performs her sacred work, to elevate herself above all the insignificant beings of the world, experiments with Micron Corp. tech she pilfered before leaving work. To make it better, and serve her grand vision. Servants who are still in one piece and have displeased her by not addressing her as goddess, or were not quick enough to get on their knees and worship her perfect paws, become guinea pigs who are now more acquainted with her toes and the countless many who have met with a similar fate, destined to live on her toes and praise her ‘til their dying day.


Relations

It should go without saying Ruby is a terrifying woman to work with. R&D walks on eggshells while she stalks the halls of her territory; all within her domain give her a wide berth and do what they are told, when they are told, even as her demands become more erratic and unreasonable by the day. It is better to appease her and keep her from breathing down their neck than having a friendly chat in her office regarding your lack of obedience.

Her servants are likewise left distraught by their delusional mistress and her mercurial whims. Fresh hires are prone to breaking down and quaking in fear if they are called to attend her, doubly so during her experimentation sessions. Her more broken-in attendants assure them they only last a week before they join the others. Her time spent at work means time away from her madness, to mentally collect themselves before she returns.

A certain minuscule cat whose name is certainly not Waffle has likewise found himself in servitude to her – her very own personal test subject, bound by contract. One should always read the fine print before signing their lives away to a goddess.

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I still haven't decided which group I'll work on next. Probably the ones with only a single character to them, as they have artwork. The rest is still up in the air after that. And while I have your attention, a question for all of you lurkers out there who've made it this far: do you find these profiles interesting and helpful? I'm still going to do these, I am just curious about your opinions. Let me know in the comments below. Don't be shy now~

Ruby appears in: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/19900834/

Art done by  jazzumi

Ruby belongs to me