FA+
Shop
368 submissions
![Snack Attack [COMMISSION]](http://t.furaffinity.net/40623519@150-1613319724.jpg "Snack Attack [COMMISSION]")
Been a while! All this month, and I'm still even planning on doing so later this week, I've been streaming Macro March requests. What you see below is the remainder of the requests!
=================================================================
Jinormous Jem
Requested by: Alkali
Alkali held his hands up before him, shielding his eyes from the gale of air billowing past, as sand and pebbles scraped away at him. The roo magus expending every last ounce of strength he possessed to simply stand upright.
“Do I dare even ask what led to this?” a booming voice, its octave so bass and deep it belonged on the lightless depths of the ocean, asked.
“Ack!” Tumbling backwards, his clawed fingers digging into the very earth, Alkali wheezed as his robe wildly billowed back behind him as strings of wood shavings collected beneath his nails. Before him, stretching far beyond the periphery of his vision and out beyond the horizon itself, a flat and wooden plane stretched out.
Sitting cross legged on the floor, hunched forward and squinting intently, a bulky behemoth of a rough collie struggled to track a particular grain of grey. Its nigh invisible form weaving in and out amongst the knots and splinters in the planks and paneling of the floor at his feet. “Well?”
The canine's lips pulled flat at the imperceptible scratches and squeaks that registered in his floppy ears in response.
Hands cupped around his mouth, Alkali shouted himself hoarse at the colossal collie that was beyond his comprehension. The almighty existence's ankles, calves, and toes alone just vague sky-blotting blobs and blurs to the kangaroo. “Jem, please! You can rub my nose in this after all is said and done!”
Cocking his head to the side, Jem hunched forward and leaned in close to the negligible speck. The trained adventurer only recognizing it was a person, and not a pebble, from the simple fact it exuded a frustratingly familiar magic. Rolling his eyes, he proceeded to lift an ear as he strained his hearing.
The merest movements from the colossus, even the unseen tensing of his muscles and tendons, were felt and heard by the shrunken and scheming magus. Creaks and groans emanated from Jem's mountainous biceps, his bloated shoulders, those prodigous pectorals, and more as he shifted in place. Delayed sonic booms assailing Alkali that sent the panicked kangaroo tumbling backwards further still into a craterous knot in the plank beneath him. Yelping, he shielded himself as best he could while motes of dust and the boulder sized beginnings of dust bunnies rolled over him.
Coughing, Alkali rose to his feet and dusted off his robes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah let's just get this part out of the way. This is all my fault. I flubbed. I goofed. Blame accepted. Ya got me!” Arms tossed out at his sides the kangaroo aggressively jazz handsed at his colossal crush. “And, yes, before you ask! Also please don't ask because the very act might kill me! This was all intended as a stepping stone/shameless ploy to see your handsome hunky self huge as can be. And it worked, I guess! Kinda! Sorta!”
“I seeeeeee,” Jem mentally mused as he nodded along at the whispers just barely scratching against his ears. Much as he loathed the wellness check-ins on Alkali... they were of the utmost importance and tantamount to maintaining the peace. After all, better the terrifyingly capable kangaroo magus devote the whole of his knowledge to flirting and romancing him as opposed to global domination. With a blush, Jem puffed out his cheeks at the recognition that some progress was being made on that front as much as he wanted to deny it.
“I heard that,” Alkali snipped. Hands resting on his hips he tutted in the general direction of the unseen and very kissable mug that lay somewhere beyond his vision. “Chew me out later! Just... just do me a favor would you?” Arms flailing wildly, the kangaroo gestured at the unseen whole of his home.
Jem curiously looked about at the magus's lair at Alkali's urging. Around him, sunlight poured into the disheveled mess of a manor. Lavish and ornate windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling filled the place with the warm and inviting glow of natural light. Revealing for all to see the mess of bookshelves, bunsen burners, cots, ink wells, wands, and conjured food strewn about without rhyme or reason. The kangaroo claiming that keeping everything in reach, at all times, let his mind wander and research to flourish as he could act upon it at any moment.
“Somewhere around here is my Esuna wand! I had it handy just in case this happened but uhh... well as you can see. The end results turned out to be a bit more potent than expected. Just grab that and, with a swish and flicker, I should be back to normal!”
Gingerly rising to his feet, the tank top clad collie rolling his shoulders as he did so, Jem scooped up a handful of nearby wands. His expression soured at the utter lack of labeling or means by which to readily identify them.
Fingers pinched against his chin, Alkali's glasses glistened as he tumbled down a tangent. The kangaroo giddily recounting the line of thinking that led to this predicament in the first place. “Now, see, the reason why Esuna will remedy this is because I accidentally inflicted Mini on myself. Today's leading scholars consider it a debuff, which is a classification I vehemently disagree with, but I cannot deny that Esuna clears it up in a pinch. As you may have gathered from our prior ermm... encounters. Can we call them dates? Let's call them dates. Anyway, as you no doubt know by know Mini is the equal and opposite of Enlarge! Which, I mean, it's a classic for a reason.”
Tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, Jem's eyes meticulously traced over the trio of wands in his hand. Hoping, praying, that even if he chose the wrong one he wouldn't exacerbate the situation.
“It's stale though, you know?” Alkali said with a furious shake of his head. “What you see is what you get and the effects are linear and well understood. There's... there's nothing new to explore with it! Which is why I had it in mind to pair Mini with Reverse! Spells, those that are compatible when combined anyway, often interact and compound on one another in potent ways! Maybe the results are still linear? Or maybe they're exponential! Either way I... ahem. Hope you don't mind helping me find out some time...” the kangaroo blushed as he slipped one broad foot over another.
Fingers curled around a pitch black wand, Jem tentatively pointed it at a window. With a swish and flicker the glass panes found themselves chromally inverted and shimmering darkness, as opposed to light, poured in. With a sigh of relief he tossed away the Reverse wand unaware of Alkali's explanation. Ignorant as he was he recognized a near miss when he saw one.
“Aside from that I was exploring a means of mass growth. Or at least a way to share it. These size spells have a non-existent range, you see! Much to my consternation as you can imagine,” Alkali huffed as he crossed his arms about his chest. “Meaning repeated casts of the same spell are required and whoof. That's a great way to bust the bank. Do you know how much it costs to enchant a wand these days? They're only good for so many casts after all!”
Jem nodded along to the squeaks that failed to translate into spoken word as he clenched a wand, the color of honey, in his grasp. He pointed it at another window and with a swish and flicker... nothing happened. Wagging his tail in relief he promptly repeated the action while directing his gaze at Alkali.
...Only for nothing to happen yet again. With a shrug he hawked it over his shoulder and smirked at the lone wand remaining within his grasp. Finally finally finally. An easy and uneventful wellness check!
“With that, and my finances in mind, I looked to lesser known spells that tether the caster to their target of choice.” A faint sheen overtook the lenses of the kangaroo's glasses as he elaborated further. “Avail! It's as ho-hum a spell as they come. Nothing flashy. Nothing awe inspiring. Heck, you can barely even tell it does anything when cast. However! Once applied the two targets are magically tethered to one another. Whatever befalls one befalls the other. Practically, it is used to split the pain or the curative effects of incoming spells. But what if...” Alkali steepled his fingers as he mused aloud.
Above him, Jem swished and flickered one last time as Esuna proper was cast upon the miniature magus.
“Hum...” Brows furrowed, Alkali pursed his lips. “Shoot. Now I can't help but wonder. If we were to be tethered and you cast Esuna on me... my Mini status would be lifted. And hypothetically...” Chin tucked against his chest, Alkali paid little heed to the fact he struggled to maintain his footing as he grew up and out of the knots in the wood paneling. “Avail then try to lift the same status on yourself? I suppose it could pan out one of two ways.”
Thoroughly intrigued, Alkali's tail whumped curiously against the floorboards as he failed to realize he had been restored. Leaning against a table he picked up some parchment without thinking and committed his thoughts to paper. All while oblivious to the planks of wood, rafters, insulation, and shingles crashing down around him. “Either it does nothing at all as the initial cast of Esuna itself would harmlessly be applied to you as well, Jem. Orrrrr, and stay with me now, what ends up being shared isn't the casting of Esuna but the end result of it. Meaning that my, relative, surge in size would be shared with you as well!” Snapping his fingers, Alkali stomped a massive foot in frustration at the missed opportunity. “...Gosh dangit why didn't I just fib and just tell him to grab the Avail wand first. At worst nothing happens and at best he...”
“Alkali,” boomed the collie's all encompassing voice.
Shaking his head, Alkali dug his heels into the floor as another gale roared past him and peeled away what little remained of his home. He turned back towards the horizon spanning hunk and harrumphed. “Yeah, Jem? Having trouble fiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. Fine. This is fine,” the magus giggled as he cupped his hands to his beet red cheeks. Standing alone in the wreckage of his manor, finally becoming cognizant of the property damage done and his own restored size, he realized his hypothesis had borne fruit. His heart pounding out of his chest as he tilted his head back to look up, and up, and up further still at the padded undersides of some fat collie toes that not even the distant mountain peaks could reach.
Bouncing about in place the kangaroo magus wore a grin a mile wide at the realization of what had transpired. The disparity in size between them had been maintained as he had been restored to normal. Whereas before Jem had just been horizon spanning in size in purely relatively terms... now he was so in a very literal manner.
“Yes, Jem?” Alkali asked as he bashfully swayed side to side with his hands clasped together.
“Fix this,” the incomprehensible colossus bellowed as his pectorals scraped away at the atmosphere and his handsome mug glowered down from among the stars.
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Wumbomancy
Requested by: Nimono
Reclining back against a great and ancient oak tree, Nimono lazily fanned himself as the balmy summer air lingered about. The extravagantly dressed fox, and apprentice magus, bemoaning his commitment to his craft as he all but melted away under his many layers of robes and star patterned clothing. Even while hidden away in the shade of the towering tree the humid, cloying, and absolutely suffocating air strangled him.
“Bleh,” the Braixen groaned as his tongue blepped out. He wanted little more than to laze the day away. To collapse into a puddle of fennec fluff as he baked in the stifling summer heat. “But!” he exclaimed as he clapped his hands together. “Master Magi don't simply come into being! They're trained, honed, perfected, and practiced! If I'm to be the best there ever was I can't let something so simple as the weather discourage me!” For an instant his gaze turned towards the University on the horizon, home to some of the most brilliant Pokemon Professors there ever was, in which every manner of magic was taught and explored. Nimono would be one of them someday. The best of them, even!
Blinking, Nimono slunk further down along the trunk of the tree, his arms sprawled out over its many roots, as his words and thoughts failed to translate into action. “Easier said than done though,” he limply acknowledged as he slowly took on the properties of a liquid. Eyes swiveling down within his sockets he grudgingly looked to the rectangular lump protruding from his pants pocket.
At the very least he could force himself to practice one spell. Maaaaybe two if he was feeling ambitious. With a flick of his wrist he knocked open the retrieved spell book, standard issue to every aspiring magus, as its ancient and faded pages spread out upon his thighs. Purple tinged crackles and pops of magic erupted from the ink that stained the pages as it reluctantly hummed to life in this stifling heat.
Nimono tilted his head curiously as he watched the wisps and aetherial sparks slowly congeal into a great rectangle before him. Its interior taking on a translucent white sheen from which pitch black text bubbled up. “Think, Nimono!” The Braixen chastised himself as he willed himself to action. “If only for my own sake. What would be the perfect spell to beat the heat?”
As furrows formed along his brow the gibberish text, comprised of the letter-like glyphs known as the Unown that resided within the tome, slowly came together into coherent text.
>GROWTH
>MINIMIZE
Blushing beet red, Nimono slapped his hands repeatedly against the Magical Menu and jumbled up the gathered Unown. “Arceus above they're starting to autocomplete it for me now,” he mumbled under his breath. S-so he enjoyed dabbling in some wumbomancy now and then! What of it? Clearing his throat, the Braixen cleared his thoughts and focused once more on the spells he wished to draw forth from the boundless wisdom contained in the pages before him.
>DRAINING KISS
>STOMP
“Stoppit stoppit stoppit,” he grimaced as he grabbed hold of the Magical Menu and violently shook it as his orange and yellow furred cheeks burned crimson. Arms crossed about his chest he warily regarded whatever new words the Unown saw fit to contort themselves into.
>GUST
Nimono's ears perked to attention. “Oh! T-that's perfect!” he excitedly exclaimed, with some relief, as he pulled himself back up into a sitting position. A cool and refreshing breeze on a dreary summer day. To command the wind at his fingertips and sing at his command. Such an endeavor was worthy of he who would call himself a Master Magus!
Digging his clawed fingers into the bark of the oak tree Nimono rose to a stand. Spellbook tucked under his arm he cupped his palm beneath the Magical Menu and guided it out into the overbearing sunlight that scalded the very land. A smirk spread wide across his fluffy mug he pressed his hand against the conjured text. Ribbons of magic, sparking and crackling with energy, coiled around his arm and colored his eyes a vibrant violet.
He could, he would, do this! Command tempestuous gales and the howling wind to soothe him on this otherwise unremarkable summer day! Tail bobbing behind him, Nimono reached back and plucked the wand he always kept safely tucked away into its fluff. Fingers curled around it, he hoisted his magical focus high into the sky and let his imagination run wild. His every movement would command the element of air. The swish of his tail, the swing of his gait, his errant gestures, why even his very breath!
Eyes clenched shut, the Braixen mused and fantasized about all this and more as he drew his wand close to his breast and magic surged within him. Brows furrowed, he deigned to open his eyes and swung his arm forward. “I cast GUST!” he triumphantly shouted as a column of air surged out before him and harmlessly trailed across the parched grass.
Wiggling happily, Nimono hurriedly composed himself. “A-a simple matter for someone of my caliber and competence! Of course I would instantly be able to command such a remedial spell. That said... that's enough for today,” he weakly laughed as any amount of time spent in the sunshine was too much. Whirling back on his heels he marched back towards the shade of the mighty oak... only to wince and whine when his snoot scraped against its upper branches.
“Grow no,” the Braixen whined as he cupped his hands to his cheeks. H-he had chosen Gust for sure this time, right? Cheeks puffed out, he pressed a finger against the now enlarged Magical Menu. Sure enough, Gust was only spell available.
“How could this be? The image in my head was perfect! Of how every swing of my arm would kick up gales as would every swish of my tail! How I could brush my fingers against the clouds themselves and twirl them about my palm like they were nothing! How... how... how my very presence could shape the world around me with even the most irrelevant of actions aaaaaaaaaand I see what happened here.”
Head buried in his hands, Nimono sighed at the realization that his ever present fantasies molded his spell yet again. See... to properly wield and command magic one had to vividly imagine its effects on the world around you. Every immaculate detail, no matter how minute, shaped and gave the spell form and function and power. A master magus must possess a sound mind that dare not wander or indulge flights of fancy lest their spell shape itself in ways most unexpected. In Nimono's case... his mind bashfully if not unconsciously retreated to how a titan could casually command such power. How the walls of wind pushed out from their every foot fall could buffet entire villages. How even a casual backhand could kick up enough wind to roar across entire forests.
Sighing, the Braixen dropped to his knees and tried to crawl into the shade and curl under the oak as best he could. Harrumphing, he scowled at the Magical Menu as it followed him into the shade and the Unown jumbled themselves into new spell suggestions.
>ICY WIND
“Oh stop it,” Nimono huffed as he puffed away the Magical Menu. A blush already forming on his cheeks as his mind immediately wandered to the thought of cupping the university in his palms and letting his parted lips huff and puff a much welcomed breeze upon the campus.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Storm Surge
Requested by: March
Arms crossed back behind his head, March tossed his horned head side to side as he tromped down the silent city streets. The purple colossus, standing shoulder to shoulder with the office buildings along the main drag, gently fluttered his wings. A deafening howl of wind, caught within and amplified by the steel and concrete tunnels that comprised the heart of metropolis. Windows rattled and popped out of place. After tumbling countless stories to the earth below that shattered in a rhythmic cacophony.
Yet... all March could do was sigh. With current events, the contagious and life threatening kind, in full swing everything had screeched to a halt within the seaside town he had come to call his home. What was the point of flaunting, of strutting, of showcasing how much power his most inconsequential of actions possessed if no one was around to see it? The storm dragon didn't NEED an audience to validate and legitimize the sheer and callous power he wielded. Yet...
Lips scrunched, the purple scaled dragon splayed his scaly toes and forcefully planted his feet down upon the asphalt before him. Fissures exploded out from beneath his broad soles and scrunched toes as the sidewalks flanking the streets ruptured. Sheets of concrete crashed against one another as light poles flickered violently and popped free from where they had been planted into the ground.
The dragon ran a hand through the mess of black hair atop his head as he regarded the sad scene. Not a single shriek of panic. No cars desperately peeling across the road in a vain and ultimately failed attempt to escape his sizable stomps. No onlookers regarding him with fear or awe or... or... or anything!
“Hmph. Just what kind of Macro March is this?” he thought to himself as he leaned into a skyscraper. Bricks and mortar, knocked free by his shoulder, crashed to the streets and alleys below. The storms bearing his namesake rumbled across the country like they always did yet... they hardly registered on anyone's radar. Not this year. With everyone hunkered down as best they could the terrifying tempests had faded to the back of everyone's mind. Not even his own imposing visage elicited a reaction!
The ridges along March's forehead creased as he sulked and his eyes wandered. “Hmm?” Intermingled among his craterous foot prints, the divots and wrinkles of his soles and toes captured perfectly in the trampled asphalt that had practically melted beneath him courtesy of the generated friction, he spied the tangled weave of electrical wires that the felled light posts had spat up. Sparking and crackling wildly with the faint smell of ozone.
March hummed contentedly at the smell while he flared his nostrils. How it brushed against and burnt his face whenever he stretched up into the atmosphere and tread across entire countries if not continents. “Oh!” he smirked to himself as he dropped to his knees with a thoom that echoed throughout the narrow streets. Jeans scuffing against road, boulder sized chunks of stone gathering around his legs, the storm dragon reached out towards the exposed wiring. “That's what this Macro March has been missing!”
Jaws parted, March proceeded to inhale. Arcs of electricity leapt from the wiring to his maw and crackled along his cheeks and horns. The hums and whirrs and cracks of generators kicking online, and failing, rang throughout the city. As did the ominous hum of overloaded transformers bursting and exploding courtesy of the obscene amount of voltage being forcefully drawn through them.
The entirety of the locked down seaside town flickered as energy was drawn towards its center. With a crack and a bang every structure, every street, every home went dark. As time passed however... a deeper darkness swallowed the town. The shadow of a broad and billowing silhouette whose guttural grunts, glurks, and satisfied groans quaked the very land.
With every swallow of pure and unfiltered energy March filled out thicker and taller. His shirt clinging just a little tighter to his broad and powerful chest. Those jeans become ever more form fitting around his powerful legs and thighs. His every utterance slowly ratcheting up in power and intensity until so much as a single spoken syllable exploded forth from between his lips with the force of a sonic boom.
Eyes half lidded, March smacked his lips as he twiddled his toes. The quakes that radiated out from his digits, so massive and swollen in size that even the tallest skyscrapers struggled to scrape against their undersides, exploded out in waves. Ripples, comprised of liquefied earth, emanated out and swallowed up the entirety of downtown. The storm dragon, with some satisfaction, watching as the metropolis became but pale smear upon the land that could disappear beneath his sole.
Out in the surrounding suburbs, beyond even that in the mountainous hills that lie some ways away from the coast, March chuckled at the curious throngs of people, not even motes of dust to him now, pouring out from their homes to take in the damage down. The storm dragon's heart near bursting out of his chest at the relief on their faces at how familiar and regular and and and... normal it was to see him stomping about.
He flashed a toothy grin as that relief turned to dread at the realization of what that all entailed.
“Happy Macro March!” March boomed as his wings unfurled at his sides and he let loose a mighty roar that blasted away the surrounding atmosphere. What clouds had been blotting the sky vaporized instantly and left the revitalized dragon brimming with glee at the return of the regularly scheduled destruction. At the sight and sensation of sheets of rock cleaved off the face of mountains by his bellow and crashing into the land below. At the massive tsunami sized waves rushing out from the shoreline. At the feeling of the earth itself buckling and cracking beneath his massive feet.
Pointed tail flicking happily behind him, March leapt up into the air and flapped his wings. The downdraft blasting away whatever recognizable features remained upon the land as it, and even the very mountains, were blasted away to nothing.
Thumbing at his nose, March took to the skies as he inhaled down any and every storm cloud that passed his way. “Why stop here?” he thought to himself as his shadow spread across the land. The swelling storm dragon resolving to remind everyone of Macro March's return and put a little sizable and stompy normalcy back into their lives.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Watch Your Step
Requested by Pyotr
“...I'm sure you'll be fine,” Radda smirked as he looked back to the splintered side streets and mounds of asphalt that rose from the massive craters, rhythmic in their patterns and placement, that pocked them. “I mean the roads around here always get torn to hell in winter anyway.”
Pyotr hummed contentedly at how perfectly the imprints of his shoe soles were captured on the streets below. His tail swishing behind him at the recognition, the realization, the sensation of super heated stone molding into the faintest and most minute of patterns that adorned his black palladiums. Every footfall, while measured and just barely registering on the Richter scale, indelibly shaped the world around the fox. “Not like there's much they can do about it.”
“Fair,” the Mareep nodded along as he bounced along in place to the tune of Pyotr's gait. A faint, and welcome, breeze whistled past him every time the fox set foot beside him.
Running a hand through his pink hair, Pyotr quietly drank in the sunlight beaming down upon them. Winter had been slow to release its grasp and it felt wonderful to finally finally finally stroll about in his low cut shorts and cropped shirt. As the warmth trickled in through his fur Pyotr casually brushed his fingers against the waist-height tree branches bursting to life with buds.
TATUNK
“Oops.” Pyotr flashed a smile and apologetically waved down at the house below. Shattered shingles lined its roof courtesy of the mass of dead branches he had accidentally knocked free.
“...That's what insurance is for, right?” Radda asked as he took to jogging to keep up with Pyotr's picked up pace.
“Probably. Hopefully,” the fox giggled. “Got to say though this has been nice. Sure the city has its appeal and all, the streets are built and reinforced for the staturally gifted for one, but there's just something about stomping through the suburbs, you know? The pace here is so different. Everything slows to a halt for me. I like it!”
Looking out over the neighborhood Pyotr flicked his ears curiously at the realization his spoken word rattled the very windows around him. How the light shimmered and wavered upon it as the vibration of his voice alone shook and threatened to reshape the world around him.
“Really? Thought you would've been bored to tears out here.” Radda stumbled forward, having mistimed a bounce to the fox's foot fall, and reached out for a shoe lace to steady himself. The sheep bleating nervously as he dug his keratin tipped fingers into the bundled cloth that rivaled him in size.
“Course not! Sheep. Seriously. Why would I mosey on all the way out here if I wasn't planning to enjoy myself?” Pyotr playfully wiggled a foot, teeth poking against his lips as the Mareep flailed to and fro, before striding to a stop. Breathing in deeply, the towering fox eeheed at how he was the veritable center of this little slice of the world. The curious faces peeking in through pulled back curtains or drawn open blinds to take in the vulpine visitor. There were the cars slowing down to ogle and rubberneck, nearly being rear ended in the process, just for the opportunity to take in his sky scraping self. He adjusted his glasses upon his snout and waved back at his adoring onlookers.
“Sorry,” Radda apologetically offered as he rested a hand against the side of the fox's shoes. The sheep couldn't help but blush at the heat they, and the paws nestled inside them, radiated. “Just... shooting the shit and strolling didn't seem like all that much to offer you!”
“Are you kidding? I love it!” Pyotr rumbled as he tucked his chin against his chest and watched his step. Parked cars, no bigger than his toes, lay strewn along the streets. The towering fox daintily reaching out to nudge them with his palladiums if only to hear their locked tires squealing faintly. Then of course how could he not delight in the houses that barely rose above his ankles? It took everything he had not to drop to a crouch and greet his not so subtle fans face to face through their living room windows. He had barely resisted the urge to peel back Radda's roof and announce his arrival as it was.
“Now where was your place again?” the fox asked. “I really could use something to eat and, not to knock on where you ended up moving, but the one downside here is they don't exactly cater all that well to someone my size.” Hand cupped to his forehead, Pyotr ambled forward one step at a time as he scanned the far away side streets and dead ends that comprised the labyrinth that was suburbia. Eyes set dead ahead the fox failed to notice his many near misses as one side view mirror after another was knocked aside off of the parked cars at his feet.
Tilting his head back, Pytor's ankle looming high over him and the rest of the fox lurching even higher still, the Mareep “Yeah and you needed to head back home after right? I'll drive so you don't have to worry about making a return trip. That said my place is right...”
CRNNNCH
Radda's arms hung limply at his side. “...There.”
Pyotr arched his brows and inhaled sharply at the pronounced pop of pressure beneath his sole. He lifted up a foot to reveal a metal pancake, comprised of equal parts fiberglass, plastic, and steel, drizzled with a cocktail of oil and coolant. “Uhhhh.”
“I-It's okay. I mean, perks of working from home and all,” Radda weakly offered. “I-I-I might need you to carry me to and from the grocery store until I get this sorted out though,” he tapered off.
“UHHHH.” Cheeks puffed out, Pyotr rubbed bashfully at his arm. “K-know what? I'll drive. Err walk. Uhh. Umm.”
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Sizing up the Comptetition
Requested by MattMacroPika
“How did I agree to this again?” Nimono asked. Slouched forward, hands cupped against his cheeks, the many tailed rodent squinted at his computer monitor. In the corner of the screen he warily regarded the Dewott and Ninetales smirking at him over their shared and streamed Chatter call. He hrmmed at the Chatot icon that appeared alongside the video as his internet connection briefly faltered.
“Through the power of peer pressure!” Alkali proudly declared. “Besides you can't keep using the Pokerus pandemic as an excuse to put this off forever, Nimono. So you've had a nasty losing streak. It'll break one of these days!”
“So!” Matt said as he clapped his hands together. “Nobody needs the rules explained to them, do they?” The Ninetales eagerly rubbed his hands together as he watched the ecstatic, and grudging, nods he received in return. “Now get in on here.”
With a roll of his eyes Nimono clicked on the link provided within the Chatter call. Creases formed along his brow as the 'Ninjask Party Pack' site loaded up and he typed in the prerequisite password. A blinding bevvy of colors and angularly shaped avatars filled the rodent's sight.
“I'm seeing one... two... three! Three Panpourpoker players,” Matt beamed. A couple of clicks later and the trio found themselves staring at the digital approximation of a felt green card table on their respective screens.
“Nobody needs to hear this right?” Alkali asked as he hurriedly clicked through text box after text box, accompanied by a scholarly looking Ninjask, explaining the rules and technology behind their games along with the utter lack of liability Ninjask Party Games held for any shenanigans that came about as a result of the activities it enabled if not outright encouraged.
“Nah,” the Ninetales raspberried.
“Wait wait wait go back what was that bit about-” Nimono dared to ask.
“Too late!” Alkali decreed as the Panpourpoker game kicked off in earnest. On screen the gathered players watched as a Ninjask, his carapaced form sharply dressed like a Game Corner card dealer, dealt them their hands quick as a flash.
Nimono glanced at his cards and grit his teeth. Oof. Not even so much as a two of a kind. He hurriedly traded in most of his hand.
Matt steepled his fingers as he watched Nimono's expression grow all the more exasperated. “Alright. Place your bets!”
“Oh Arceus above...” the rodent muttered as he clicked on his avatar. He watched as it shrank noticeably in size and from its drained mass a handful of chips were generated. Nimono reluctantly clicked on the chips to shove them forward.
ROUND OVER
The Ninjask dealer swished an arm across the screen and revealed everybody's hands. Nimono came in strong with... nothing. Absolutely nothing. Alkali came in hot with a pair of Queenly Primarinas while Matt barely squeaked by to victory with a pair of SlowKings.
Whining, Nimono trembled as a pixelated text box appeared on screen.
MATT is the victor! MATT used GIGA DRAIN!
Fur puffed out, Nimono acked as his fluffy form compacted in on itself and he slid back down along his chair. His very size, the currency bet within the game, disappeared into Matt's possession. The Ninetales chuckled as he struggled to fit himself inside the increasingly cramped borders of what his video call could capture. Alkali in turn dwindled down within his seat and stretched up to reach at his keyboard.
Matt clapped his hands once more, the booming of his palms clapping together roaring out of the monitors like crackling thunder, as the Ninetales giddily kicked off the next round. “Place your bets,” he cooed as he hunched over his keyboard.
“Last round, Nimono!” an unrecognizably deep voice boomed.
Groaning, the rodent clasped at both sides of his mouse and click by painstaking click lowered the volume. “I heard you the first time,” he sassed back. Standing atop his mouse pad, and piloting a mouse comparable to himself in size, Nimono rolled his eyes at his consistently crappy hand. He could hope, he could pray, that the Dewott and Ninetales somehow ended up with something worse than he was dealth. Reluctantly, both of his hands require to apply the pressure needed for a right-mouse click, he watched the last of his size get drained away into his final chip.
In the corner of the screen Alkali, marginally bigger than when he started and his thighs starting to overflow and press against the arms of his chair, smiled back at the tiny rodent. Matt, meanwhile, no longer fit on screen. The video call only able to capture a pectoral here or a finger there as the utterly engorged and gigantified vulpine struggled to even play the game. His swollen fingers having crunched apart his keyboard and mouse long ago. Matt forced to simply rely on, bank on, the hand dealt to him by default to carry him to victory.
ROUND OVER
Hands clasped together, Nimono fervently prayed for something other than the obvious.
The Ninjask dealer swished an arm across the screen and revealed everybody's hands.
“Oooooh. Tough luck, Nimono!” Matt's booming bass of a voice teased.
“Why did I agree to thisss,” Nimono grimaced as the dread pixelated text box appeared on screen one last time.
MATT is the victor! MATT used GIGA DRAIN!
Acking, Nimono dwindled down to near nothing upon his mouse pad. The tiny rodent left reeling from the light cast by his now movie theater screen sized computer monitor.
“Sooooooo,” Alkali teased as he reclined back in his chair with a couple of extra inches on his person to show for his haul. He couldn't help but smirk as Matt's audio and video feed cut out just as an ominous rumbling accompanied the Ninetales last and latest surge in growth. “Same time next week?”
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
=================================================================
Jinormous Jem
Requested by: Alkali
Alkali held his hands up before him, shielding his eyes from the gale of air billowing past, as sand and pebbles scraped away at him. The roo magus expending every last ounce of strength he possessed to simply stand upright.
“Do I dare even ask what led to this?” a booming voice, its octave so bass and deep it belonged on the lightless depths of the ocean, asked.
“Ack!” Tumbling backwards, his clawed fingers digging into the very earth, Alkali wheezed as his robe wildly billowed back behind him as strings of wood shavings collected beneath his nails. Before him, stretching far beyond the periphery of his vision and out beyond the horizon itself, a flat and wooden plane stretched out.
Sitting cross legged on the floor, hunched forward and squinting intently, a bulky behemoth of a rough collie struggled to track a particular grain of grey. Its nigh invisible form weaving in and out amongst the knots and splinters in the planks and paneling of the floor at his feet. “Well?”
The canine's lips pulled flat at the imperceptible scratches and squeaks that registered in his floppy ears in response.
Hands cupped around his mouth, Alkali shouted himself hoarse at the colossal collie that was beyond his comprehension. The almighty existence's ankles, calves, and toes alone just vague sky-blotting blobs and blurs to the kangaroo. “Jem, please! You can rub my nose in this after all is said and done!”
Cocking his head to the side, Jem hunched forward and leaned in close to the negligible speck. The trained adventurer only recognizing it was a person, and not a pebble, from the simple fact it exuded a frustratingly familiar magic. Rolling his eyes, he proceeded to lift an ear as he strained his hearing.
The merest movements from the colossus, even the unseen tensing of his muscles and tendons, were felt and heard by the shrunken and scheming magus. Creaks and groans emanated from Jem's mountainous biceps, his bloated shoulders, those prodigous pectorals, and more as he shifted in place. Delayed sonic booms assailing Alkali that sent the panicked kangaroo tumbling backwards further still into a craterous knot in the plank beneath him. Yelping, he shielded himself as best he could while motes of dust and the boulder sized beginnings of dust bunnies rolled over him.
Coughing, Alkali rose to his feet and dusted off his robes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah let's just get this part out of the way. This is all my fault. I flubbed. I goofed. Blame accepted. Ya got me!” Arms tossed out at his sides the kangaroo aggressively jazz handsed at his colossal crush. “And, yes, before you ask! Also please don't ask because the very act might kill me! This was all intended as a stepping stone/shameless ploy to see your handsome hunky self huge as can be. And it worked, I guess! Kinda! Sorta!”
“I seeeeeee,” Jem mentally mused as he nodded along at the whispers just barely scratching against his ears. Much as he loathed the wellness check-ins on Alkali... they were of the utmost importance and tantamount to maintaining the peace. After all, better the terrifyingly capable kangaroo magus devote the whole of his knowledge to flirting and romancing him as opposed to global domination. With a blush, Jem puffed out his cheeks at the recognition that some progress was being made on that front as much as he wanted to deny it.
“I heard that,” Alkali snipped. Hands resting on his hips he tutted in the general direction of the unseen and very kissable mug that lay somewhere beyond his vision. “Chew me out later! Just... just do me a favor would you?” Arms flailing wildly, the kangaroo gestured at the unseen whole of his home.
Jem curiously looked about at the magus's lair at Alkali's urging. Around him, sunlight poured into the disheveled mess of a manor. Lavish and ornate windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling filled the place with the warm and inviting glow of natural light. Revealing for all to see the mess of bookshelves, bunsen burners, cots, ink wells, wands, and conjured food strewn about without rhyme or reason. The kangaroo claiming that keeping everything in reach, at all times, let his mind wander and research to flourish as he could act upon it at any moment.
“Somewhere around here is my Esuna wand! I had it handy just in case this happened but uhh... well as you can see. The end results turned out to be a bit more potent than expected. Just grab that and, with a swish and flicker, I should be back to normal!”
Gingerly rising to his feet, the tank top clad collie rolling his shoulders as he did so, Jem scooped up a handful of nearby wands. His expression soured at the utter lack of labeling or means by which to readily identify them.
Fingers pinched against his chin, Alkali's glasses glistened as he tumbled down a tangent. The kangaroo giddily recounting the line of thinking that led to this predicament in the first place. “Now, see, the reason why Esuna will remedy this is because I accidentally inflicted Mini on myself. Today's leading scholars consider it a debuff, which is a classification I vehemently disagree with, but I cannot deny that Esuna clears it up in a pinch. As you may have gathered from our prior ermm... encounters. Can we call them dates? Let's call them dates. Anyway, as you no doubt know by know Mini is the equal and opposite of Enlarge! Which, I mean, it's a classic for a reason.”
Tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, Jem's eyes meticulously traced over the trio of wands in his hand. Hoping, praying, that even if he chose the wrong one he wouldn't exacerbate the situation.
“It's stale though, you know?” Alkali said with a furious shake of his head. “What you see is what you get and the effects are linear and well understood. There's... there's nothing new to explore with it! Which is why I had it in mind to pair Mini with Reverse! Spells, those that are compatible when combined anyway, often interact and compound on one another in potent ways! Maybe the results are still linear? Or maybe they're exponential! Either way I... ahem. Hope you don't mind helping me find out some time...” the kangaroo blushed as he slipped one broad foot over another.
Fingers curled around a pitch black wand, Jem tentatively pointed it at a window. With a swish and flicker the glass panes found themselves chromally inverted and shimmering darkness, as opposed to light, poured in. With a sigh of relief he tossed away the Reverse wand unaware of Alkali's explanation. Ignorant as he was he recognized a near miss when he saw one.
“Aside from that I was exploring a means of mass growth. Or at least a way to share it. These size spells have a non-existent range, you see! Much to my consternation as you can imagine,” Alkali huffed as he crossed his arms about his chest. “Meaning repeated casts of the same spell are required and whoof. That's a great way to bust the bank. Do you know how much it costs to enchant a wand these days? They're only good for so many casts after all!”
Jem nodded along to the squeaks that failed to translate into spoken word as he clenched a wand, the color of honey, in his grasp. He pointed it at another window and with a swish and flicker... nothing happened. Wagging his tail in relief he promptly repeated the action while directing his gaze at Alkali.
...Only for nothing to happen yet again. With a shrug he hawked it over his shoulder and smirked at the lone wand remaining within his grasp. Finally finally finally. An easy and uneventful wellness check!
“With that, and my finances in mind, I looked to lesser known spells that tether the caster to their target of choice.” A faint sheen overtook the lenses of the kangaroo's glasses as he elaborated further. “Avail! It's as ho-hum a spell as they come. Nothing flashy. Nothing awe inspiring. Heck, you can barely even tell it does anything when cast. However! Once applied the two targets are magically tethered to one another. Whatever befalls one befalls the other. Practically, it is used to split the pain or the curative effects of incoming spells. But what if...” Alkali steepled his fingers as he mused aloud.
Above him, Jem swished and flickered one last time as Esuna proper was cast upon the miniature magus.
“Hum...” Brows furrowed, Alkali pursed his lips. “Shoot. Now I can't help but wonder. If we were to be tethered and you cast Esuna on me... my Mini status would be lifted. And hypothetically...” Chin tucked against his chest, Alkali paid little heed to the fact he struggled to maintain his footing as he grew up and out of the knots in the wood paneling. “Avail then try to lift the same status on yourself? I suppose it could pan out one of two ways.”
Thoroughly intrigued, Alkali's tail whumped curiously against the floorboards as he failed to realize he had been restored. Leaning against a table he picked up some parchment without thinking and committed his thoughts to paper. All while oblivious to the planks of wood, rafters, insulation, and shingles crashing down around him. “Either it does nothing at all as the initial cast of Esuna itself would harmlessly be applied to you as well, Jem. Orrrrr, and stay with me now, what ends up being shared isn't the casting of Esuna but the end result of it. Meaning that my, relative, surge in size would be shared with you as well!” Snapping his fingers, Alkali stomped a massive foot in frustration at the missed opportunity. “...Gosh dangit why didn't I just fib and just tell him to grab the Avail wand first. At worst nothing happens and at best he...”
“Alkali,” boomed the collie's all encompassing voice.
Shaking his head, Alkali dug his heels into the floor as another gale roared past him and peeled away what little remained of his home. He turned back towards the horizon spanning hunk and harrumphed. “Yeah, Jem? Having trouble fiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. Fine. This is fine,” the magus giggled as he cupped his hands to his beet red cheeks. Standing alone in the wreckage of his manor, finally becoming cognizant of the property damage done and his own restored size, he realized his hypothesis had borne fruit. His heart pounding out of his chest as he tilted his head back to look up, and up, and up further still at the padded undersides of some fat collie toes that not even the distant mountain peaks could reach.
Bouncing about in place the kangaroo magus wore a grin a mile wide at the realization of what had transpired. The disparity in size between them had been maintained as he had been restored to normal. Whereas before Jem had just been horizon spanning in size in purely relatively terms... now he was so in a very literal manner.
“Yes, Jem?” Alkali asked as he bashfully swayed side to side with his hands clasped together.
“Fix this,” the incomprehensible colossus bellowed as his pectorals scraped away at the atmosphere and his handsome mug glowered down from among the stars.
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Wumbomancy
Requested by: Nimono
Reclining back against a great and ancient oak tree, Nimono lazily fanned himself as the balmy summer air lingered about. The extravagantly dressed fox, and apprentice magus, bemoaning his commitment to his craft as he all but melted away under his many layers of robes and star patterned clothing. Even while hidden away in the shade of the towering tree the humid, cloying, and absolutely suffocating air strangled him.
“Bleh,” the Braixen groaned as his tongue blepped out. He wanted little more than to laze the day away. To collapse into a puddle of fennec fluff as he baked in the stifling summer heat. “But!” he exclaimed as he clapped his hands together. “Master Magi don't simply come into being! They're trained, honed, perfected, and practiced! If I'm to be the best there ever was I can't let something so simple as the weather discourage me!” For an instant his gaze turned towards the University on the horizon, home to some of the most brilliant Pokemon Professors there ever was, in which every manner of magic was taught and explored. Nimono would be one of them someday. The best of them, even!
Blinking, Nimono slunk further down along the trunk of the tree, his arms sprawled out over its many roots, as his words and thoughts failed to translate into action. “Easier said than done though,” he limply acknowledged as he slowly took on the properties of a liquid. Eyes swiveling down within his sockets he grudgingly looked to the rectangular lump protruding from his pants pocket.
At the very least he could force himself to practice one spell. Maaaaybe two if he was feeling ambitious. With a flick of his wrist he knocked open the retrieved spell book, standard issue to every aspiring magus, as its ancient and faded pages spread out upon his thighs. Purple tinged crackles and pops of magic erupted from the ink that stained the pages as it reluctantly hummed to life in this stifling heat.
Nimono tilted his head curiously as he watched the wisps and aetherial sparks slowly congeal into a great rectangle before him. Its interior taking on a translucent white sheen from which pitch black text bubbled up. “Think, Nimono!” The Braixen chastised himself as he willed himself to action. “If only for my own sake. What would be the perfect spell to beat the heat?”
As furrows formed along his brow the gibberish text, comprised of the letter-like glyphs known as the Unown that resided within the tome, slowly came together into coherent text.
>GROWTH
>MINIMIZE
Blushing beet red, Nimono slapped his hands repeatedly against the Magical Menu and jumbled up the gathered Unown. “Arceus above they're starting to autocomplete it for me now,” he mumbled under his breath. S-so he enjoyed dabbling in some wumbomancy now and then! What of it? Clearing his throat, the Braixen cleared his thoughts and focused once more on the spells he wished to draw forth from the boundless wisdom contained in the pages before him.
>DRAINING KISS
>STOMP
“Stoppit stoppit stoppit,” he grimaced as he grabbed hold of the Magical Menu and violently shook it as his orange and yellow furred cheeks burned crimson. Arms crossed about his chest he warily regarded whatever new words the Unown saw fit to contort themselves into.
>GUST
Nimono's ears perked to attention. “Oh! T-that's perfect!” he excitedly exclaimed, with some relief, as he pulled himself back up into a sitting position. A cool and refreshing breeze on a dreary summer day. To command the wind at his fingertips and sing at his command. Such an endeavor was worthy of he who would call himself a Master Magus!
Digging his clawed fingers into the bark of the oak tree Nimono rose to a stand. Spellbook tucked under his arm he cupped his palm beneath the Magical Menu and guided it out into the overbearing sunlight that scalded the very land. A smirk spread wide across his fluffy mug he pressed his hand against the conjured text. Ribbons of magic, sparking and crackling with energy, coiled around his arm and colored his eyes a vibrant violet.
He could, he would, do this! Command tempestuous gales and the howling wind to soothe him on this otherwise unremarkable summer day! Tail bobbing behind him, Nimono reached back and plucked the wand he always kept safely tucked away into its fluff. Fingers curled around it, he hoisted his magical focus high into the sky and let his imagination run wild. His every movement would command the element of air. The swish of his tail, the swing of his gait, his errant gestures, why even his very breath!
Eyes clenched shut, the Braixen mused and fantasized about all this and more as he drew his wand close to his breast and magic surged within him. Brows furrowed, he deigned to open his eyes and swung his arm forward. “I cast GUST!” he triumphantly shouted as a column of air surged out before him and harmlessly trailed across the parched grass.
Wiggling happily, Nimono hurriedly composed himself. “A-a simple matter for someone of my caliber and competence! Of course I would instantly be able to command such a remedial spell. That said... that's enough for today,” he weakly laughed as any amount of time spent in the sunshine was too much. Whirling back on his heels he marched back towards the shade of the mighty oak... only to wince and whine when his snoot scraped against its upper branches.
“Grow no,” the Braixen whined as he cupped his hands to his cheeks. H-he had chosen Gust for sure this time, right? Cheeks puffed out, he pressed a finger against the now enlarged Magical Menu. Sure enough, Gust was only spell available.
“How could this be? The image in my head was perfect! Of how every swing of my arm would kick up gales as would every swish of my tail! How I could brush my fingers against the clouds themselves and twirl them about my palm like they were nothing! How... how... how my very presence could shape the world around me with even the most irrelevant of actions aaaaaaaaaand I see what happened here.”
Head buried in his hands, Nimono sighed at the realization that his ever present fantasies molded his spell yet again. See... to properly wield and command magic one had to vividly imagine its effects on the world around you. Every immaculate detail, no matter how minute, shaped and gave the spell form and function and power. A master magus must possess a sound mind that dare not wander or indulge flights of fancy lest their spell shape itself in ways most unexpected. In Nimono's case... his mind bashfully if not unconsciously retreated to how a titan could casually command such power. How the walls of wind pushed out from their every foot fall could buffet entire villages. How even a casual backhand could kick up enough wind to roar across entire forests.
Sighing, the Braixen dropped to his knees and tried to crawl into the shade and curl under the oak as best he could. Harrumphing, he scowled at the Magical Menu as it followed him into the shade and the Unown jumbled themselves into new spell suggestions.
>ICY WIND
“Oh stop it,” Nimono huffed as he puffed away the Magical Menu. A blush already forming on his cheeks as his mind immediately wandered to the thought of cupping the university in his palms and letting his parted lips huff and puff a much welcomed breeze upon the campus.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Storm Surge
Requested by: March
Arms crossed back behind his head, March tossed his horned head side to side as he tromped down the silent city streets. The purple colossus, standing shoulder to shoulder with the office buildings along the main drag, gently fluttered his wings. A deafening howl of wind, caught within and amplified by the steel and concrete tunnels that comprised the heart of metropolis. Windows rattled and popped out of place. After tumbling countless stories to the earth below that shattered in a rhythmic cacophony.
Yet... all March could do was sigh. With current events, the contagious and life threatening kind, in full swing everything had screeched to a halt within the seaside town he had come to call his home. What was the point of flaunting, of strutting, of showcasing how much power his most inconsequential of actions possessed if no one was around to see it? The storm dragon didn't NEED an audience to validate and legitimize the sheer and callous power he wielded. Yet...
Lips scrunched, the purple scaled dragon splayed his scaly toes and forcefully planted his feet down upon the asphalt before him. Fissures exploded out from beneath his broad soles and scrunched toes as the sidewalks flanking the streets ruptured. Sheets of concrete crashed against one another as light poles flickered violently and popped free from where they had been planted into the ground.
The dragon ran a hand through the mess of black hair atop his head as he regarded the sad scene. Not a single shriek of panic. No cars desperately peeling across the road in a vain and ultimately failed attempt to escape his sizable stomps. No onlookers regarding him with fear or awe or... or... or anything!
“Hmph. Just what kind of Macro March is this?” he thought to himself as he leaned into a skyscraper. Bricks and mortar, knocked free by his shoulder, crashed to the streets and alleys below. The storms bearing his namesake rumbled across the country like they always did yet... they hardly registered on anyone's radar. Not this year. With everyone hunkered down as best they could the terrifying tempests had faded to the back of everyone's mind. Not even his own imposing visage elicited a reaction!
The ridges along March's forehead creased as he sulked and his eyes wandered. “Hmm?” Intermingled among his craterous foot prints, the divots and wrinkles of his soles and toes captured perfectly in the trampled asphalt that had practically melted beneath him courtesy of the generated friction, he spied the tangled weave of electrical wires that the felled light posts had spat up. Sparking and crackling wildly with the faint smell of ozone.
March hummed contentedly at the smell while he flared his nostrils. How it brushed against and burnt his face whenever he stretched up into the atmosphere and tread across entire countries if not continents. “Oh!” he smirked to himself as he dropped to his knees with a thoom that echoed throughout the narrow streets. Jeans scuffing against road, boulder sized chunks of stone gathering around his legs, the storm dragon reached out towards the exposed wiring. “That's what this Macro March has been missing!”
Jaws parted, March proceeded to inhale. Arcs of electricity leapt from the wiring to his maw and crackled along his cheeks and horns. The hums and whirrs and cracks of generators kicking online, and failing, rang throughout the city. As did the ominous hum of overloaded transformers bursting and exploding courtesy of the obscene amount of voltage being forcefully drawn through them.
The entirety of the locked down seaside town flickered as energy was drawn towards its center. With a crack and a bang every structure, every street, every home went dark. As time passed however... a deeper darkness swallowed the town. The shadow of a broad and billowing silhouette whose guttural grunts, glurks, and satisfied groans quaked the very land.
With every swallow of pure and unfiltered energy March filled out thicker and taller. His shirt clinging just a little tighter to his broad and powerful chest. Those jeans become ever more form fitting around his powerful legs and thighs. His every utterance slowly ratcheting up in power and intensity until so much as a single spoken syllable exploded forth from between his lips with the force of a sonic boom.
Eyes half lidded, March smacked his lips as he twiddled his toes. The quakes that radiated out from his digits, so massive and swollen in size that even the tallest skyscrapers struggled to scrape against their undersides, exploded out in waves. Ripples, comprised of liquefied earth, emanated out and swallowed up the entirety of downtown. The storm dragon, with some satisfaction, watching as the metropolis became but pale smear upon the land that could disappear beneath his sole.
Out in the surrounding suburbs, beyond even that in the mountainous hills that lie some ways away from the coast, March chuckled at the curious throngs of people, not even motes of dust to him now, pouring out from their homes to take in the damage down. The storm dragon's heart near bursting out of his chest at the relief on their faces at how familiar and regular and and and... normal it was to see him stomping about.
He flashed a toothy grin as that relief turned to dread at the realization of what that all entailed.
“Happy Macro March!” March boomed as his wings unfurled at his sides and he let loose a mighty roar that blasted away the surrounding atmosphere. What clouds had been blotting the sky vaporized instantly and left the revitalized dragon brimming with glee at the return of the regularly scheduled destruction. At the sight and sensation of sheets of rock cleaved off the face of mountains by his bellow and crashing into the land below. At the massive tsunami sized waves rushing out from the shoreline. At the feeling of the earth itself buckling and cracking beneath his massive feet.
Pointed tail flicking happily behind him, March leapt up into the air and flapped his wings. The downdraft blasting away whatever recognizable features remained upon the land as it, and even the very mountains, were blasted away to nothing.
Thumbing at his nose, March took to the skies as he inhaled down any and every storm cloud that passed his way. “Why stop here?” he thought to himself as his shadow spread across the land. The swelling storm dragon resolving to remind everyone of Macro March's return and put a little sizable and stompy normalcy back into their lives.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Watch Your Step
Requested by Pyotr
“...I'm sure you'll be fine,” Radda smirked as he looked back to the splintered side streets and mounds of asphalt that rose from the massive craters, rhythmic in their patterns and placement, that pocked them. “I mean the roads around here always get torn to hell in winter anyway.”
Pyotr hummed contentedly at how perfectly the imprints of his shoe soles were captured on the streets below. His tail swishing behind him at the recognition, the realization, the sensation of super heated stone molding into the faintest and most minute of patterns that adorned his black palladiums. Every footfall, while measured and just barely registering on the Richter scale, indelibly shaped the world around the fox. “Not like there's much they can do about it.”
“Fair,” the Mareep nodded along as he bounced along in place to the tune of Pyotr's gait. A faint, and welcome, breeze whistled past him every time the fox set foot beside him.
Running a hand through his pink hair, Pyotr quietly drank in the sunlight beaming down upon them. Winter had been slow to release its grasp and it felt wonderful to finally finally finally stroll about in his low cut shorts and cropped shirt. As the warmth trickled in through his fur Pyotr casually brushed his fingers against the waist-height tree branches bursting to life with buds.
TATUNK
“Oops.” Pyotr flashed a smile and apologetically waved down at the house below. Shattered shingles lined its roof courtesy of the mass of dead branches he had accidentally knocked free.
“...That's what insurance is for, right?” Radda asked as he took to jogging to keep up with Pyotr's picked up pace.
“Probably. Hopefully,” the fox giggled. “Got to say though this has been nice. Sure the city has its appeal and all, the streets are built and reinforced for the staturally gifted for one, but there's just something about stomping through the suburbs, you know? The pace here is so different. Everything slows to a halt for me. I like it!”
Looking out over the neighborhood Pyotr flicked his ears curiously at the realization his spoken word rattled the very windows around him. How the light shimmered and wavered upon it as the vibration of his voice alone shook and threatened to reshape the world around him.
“Really? Thought you would've been bored to tears out here.” Radda stumbled forward, having mistimed a bounce to the fox's foot fall, and reached out for a shoe lace to steady himself. The sheep bleating nervously as he dug his keratin tipped fingers into the bundled cloth that rivaled him in size.
“Course not! Sheep. Seriously. Why would I mosey on all the way out here if I wasn't planning to enjoy myself?” Pyotr playfully wiggled a foot, teeth poking against his lips as the Mareep flailed to and fro, before striding to a stop. Breathing in deeply, the towering fox eeheed at how he was the veritable center of this little slice of the world. The curious faces peeking in through pulled back curtains or drawn open blinds to take in the vulpine visitor. There were the cars slowing down to ogle and rubberneck, nearly being rear ended in the process, just for the opportunity to take in his sky scraping self. He adjusted his glasses upon his snout and waved back at his adoring onlookers.
“Sorry,” Radda apologetically offered as he rested a hand against the side of the fox's shoes. The sheep couldn't help but blush at the heat they, and the paws nestled inside them, radiated. “Just... shooting the shit and strolling didn't seem like all that much to offer you!”
“Are you kidding? I love it!” Pyotr rumbled as he tucked his chin against his chest and watched his step. Parked cars, no bigger than his toes, lay strewn along the streets. The towering fox daintily reaching out to nudge them with his palladiums if only to hear their locked tires squealing faintly. Then of course how could he not delight in the houses that barely rose above his ankles? It took everything he had not to drop to a crouch and greet his not so subtle fans face to face through their living room windows. He had barely resisted the urge to peel back Radda's roof and announce his arrival as it was.
“Now where was your place again?” the fox asked. “I really could use something to eat and, not to knock on where you ended up moving, but the one downside here is they don't exactly cater all that well to someone my size.” Hand cupped to his forehead, Pyotr ambled forward one step at a time as he scanned the far away side streets and dead ends that comprised the labyrinth that was suburbia. Eyes set dead ahead the fox failed to notice his many near misses as one side view mirror after another was knocked aside off of the parked cars at his feet.
Tilting his head back, Pytor's ankle looming high over him and the rest of the fox lurching even higher still, the Mareep “Yeah and you needed to head back home after right? I'll drive so you don't have to worry about making a return trip. That said my place is right...”
CRNNNCH
Radda's arms hung limply at his side. “...There.”
Pyotr arched his brows and inhaled sharply at the pronounced pop of pressure beneath his sole. He lifted up a foot to reveal a metal pancake, comprised of equal parts fiberglass, plastic, and steel, drizzled with a cocktail of oil and coolant. “Uhhhh.”
“I-It's okay. I mean, perks of working from home and all,” Radda weakly offered. “I-I-I might need you to carry me to and from the grocery store until I get this sorted out though,” he tapered off.
“UHHHH.” Cheeks puffed out, Pyotr rubbed bashfully at his arm. “K-know what? I'll drive. Err walk. Uhh. Umm.”
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Sizing up the Comptetition
Requested by MattMacroPika
“How did I agree to this again?” Nimono asked. Slouched forward, hands cupped against his cheeks, the many tailed rodent squinted at his computer monitor. In the corner of the screen he warily regarded the Dewott and Ninetales smirking at him over their shared and streamed Chatter call. He hrmmed at the Chatot icon that appeared alongside the video as his internet connection briefly faltered.
“Through the power of peer pressure!” Alkali proudly declared. “Besides you can't keep using the Pokerus pandemic as an excuse to put this off forever, Nimono. So you've had a nasty losing streak. It'll break one of these days!”
“So!” Matt said as he clapped his hands together. “Nobody needs the rules explained to them, do they?” The Ninetales eagerly rubbed his hands together as he watched the ecstatic, and grudging, nods he received in return. “Now get in on here.”
With a roll of his eyes Nimono clicked on the link provided within the Chatter call. Creases formed along his brow as the 'Ninjask Party Pack' site loaded up and he typed in the prerequisite password. A blinding bevvy of colors and angularly shaped avatars filled the rodent's sight.
“I'm seeing one... two... three! Three Panpourpoker players,” Matt beamed. A couple of clicks later and the trio found themselves staring at the digital approximation of a felt green card table on their respective screens.
“Nobody needs to hear this right?” Alkali asked as he hurriedly clicked through text box after text box, accompanied by a scholarly looking Ninjask, explaining the rules and technology behind their games along with the utter lack of liability Ninjask Party Games held for any shenanigans that came about as a result of the activities it enabled if not outright encouraged.
“Nah,” the Ninetales raspberried.
“Wait wait wait go back what was that bit about-” Nimono dared to ask.
“Too late!” Alkali decreed as the Panpourpoker game kicked off in earnest. On screen the gathered players watched as a Ninjask, his carapaced form sharply dressed like a Game Corner card dealer, dealt them their hands quick as a flash.
Nimono glanced at his cards and grit his teeth. Oof. Not even so much as a two of a kind. He hurriedly traded in most of his hand.
Matt steepled his fingers as he watched Nimono's expression grow all the more exasperated. “Alright. Place your bets!”
“Oh Arceus above...” the rodent muttered as he clicked on his avatar. He watched as it shrank noticeably in size and from its drained mass a handful of chips were generated. Nimono reluctantly clicked on the chips to shove them forward.
ROUND OVER
The Ninjask dealer swished an arm across the screen and revealed everybody's hands. Nimono came in strong with... nothing. Absolutely nothing. Alkali came in hot with a pair of Queenly Primarinas while Matt barely squeaked by to victory with a pair of SlowKings.
Whining, Nimono trembled as a pixelated text box appeared on screen.
MATT is the victor! MATT used GIGA DRAIN!
Fur puffed out, Nimono acked as his fluffy form compacted in on itself and he slid back down along his chair. His very size, the currency bet within the game, disappeared into Matt's possession. The Ninetales chuckled as he struggled to fit himself inside the increasingly cramped borders of what his video call could capture. Alkali in turn dwindled down within his seat and stretched up to reach at his keyboard.
Matt clapped his hands once more, the booming of his palms clapping together roaring out of the monitors like crackling thunder, as the Ninetales giddily kicked off the next round. “Place your bets,” he cooed as he hunched over his keyboard.
“Last round, Nimono!” an unrecognizably deep voice boomed.
Groaning, the rodent clasped at both sides of his mouse and click by painstaking click lowered the volume. “I heard you the first time,” he sassed back. Standing atop his mouse pad, and piloting a mouse comparable to himself in size, Nimono rolled his eyes at his consistently crappy hand. He could hope, he could pray, that the Dewott and Ninetales somehow ended up with something worse than he was dealth. Reluctantly, both of his hands require to apply the pressure needed for a right-mouse click, he watched the last of his size get drained away into his final chip.
In the corner of the screen Alkali, marginally bigger than when he started and his thighs starting to overflow and press against the arms of his chair, smiled back at the tiny rodent. Matt, meanwhile, no longer fit on screen. The video call only able to capture a pectoral here or a finger there as the utterly engorged and gigantified vulpine struggled to even play the game. His swollen fingers having crunched apart his keyboard and mouse long ago. Matt forced to simply rely on, bank on, the hand dealt to him by default to carry him to victory.
ROUND OVER
Hands clasped together, Nimono fervently prayed for something other than the obvious.
The Ninjask dealer swished an arm across the screen and revealed everybody's hands.
“Oooooh. Tough luck, Nimono!” Matt's booming bass of a voice teased.
“Why did I agree to thisss,” Nimono grimaced as the dread pixelated text box appeared on screen one last time.
MATT is the victor! MATT used GIGA DRAIN!
Acking, Nimono dwindled down to near nothing upon his mouse pad. The tiny rodent left reeling from the light cast by his now movie theater screen sized computer monitor.
“Sooooooo,” Alkali teased as he reclined back in his chair with a couple of extra inches on his person to show for his haul. He couldn't help but smirk as Matt's audio and video feed cut out just as an ominous rumbling accompanied the Ninetales last and latest surge in growth. “Same time next week?”
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Category Story / Macro / Micro
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 106px
File Size 63.6 kB
Comments