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He can't tell you what to do, so you bite your thumbnail— carefully. It doesn't budge. It does, in fact, hurt your tooth. "Ow!"
«They're about as hard as iron. Goes with the grip strength. Expect more later.»
...Okay. Um, cool. You guess that did come in handy for this extremely specific purpose, so... thanks?
«You're welcome.»
What <span class="mu-i">else</span> did he change? You thought he said he'd list it for you.
«You forgot to ask me, but very well. Last night, I...»
—
"Heya, kid." Earl, sweaty all over, has sidled up to you. You fumble for the barnacle knife, so it doesn't look like you've been using your freak metal fingernails, though he might've already seen you doing it. Or Branwen told him. Damnit! "Holy fuck! You got this place spick and span, huh?"
"...Yes?" you say, and hold the knife out a little so it looks like it's completely, definitely been in use.
"Nice work! Gotta say, it feels great to have company! Morris is a charmer, but not much of a... talker. Not usually, anyhow. But she told me she saw you had, eh, scales? On your belly?"
You fold your hands over it. "I don't— that's— so what? Whose business is that?"
"Nobody's! Nobody's! Just, uh—" He scratches his nose. "—if you <span class="mu-i">did,</span> I just wanted to say that was badass! That's all. Shit, <span class="mu-i">I</span> could use some scales. But if she didn't see it right, or, eh, if you don't feel too good about showing me, that's— I can leave you to it. Always more stuff to haul."
"Um, you wanted to see?" you say.
"Does a fish want to swim? What do you think! I saw you do that thing to your jaw, hon, I know you can—"
You did unhinge your jaw for him, didn't you? Twice. He did really like it when you did that. And he did install metal spikes in his back for no reason but to look cool, so... you sigh. "Fine! But you can't gawk! This is not for your— your prurient— here." Reluctantly, you pull the fabric of your shirt up a fraction, revealing white scales— the same ones you already had, actually, except they're harder and shinier now. The new scales, the itchy ones, have crept up your torso, stopping just below your bosom, and stretch around to your back.
Earl is gawking, but it doesn't look prurient. "Holy cow!"
"Um, there's more..." You don't like exposing your stomach, so you turn around and briefly show him your back.
"Holy <span class="mu-i">cow!</span> Can I ask how you—" (You shake your head.) "Okay, okay, trade secret. No problem! Is it that and the jaw, or is there—"
Your fingernails. Also, you woke up feeling rubbery, and that was for good reason: scaled or unscaled, your skin is stretchier than it was, and it snaps back like the skin of a balloon. What's the point? Richard said it was for "general purposes." You have suspicions, but you're going to ignore them for right now, since it still looks normal— unless you stretch it on purpose, like you're doing for Earl. He's practically giddy.
(3/5)
