My Life as an Otherkin Ch: 39

            "So someone from the government or something just gave us a bunch of money?" Angel asks while we stopped for some breakfast on the road; day three of our road trip.  

            "Apparently," I reply as I sip some water.  Silver finally decided to give me a rundown on what I could and couldn't eat.  Chocolate was out of the question, I had to go light on the grains and veggies (but they're still needed), meat is a big part of the diet as well as some fish.  Milk and dairy products are safe and fruit is safe as well, but I guess that's it.  With some cash in hand and a few set aside for entertainment, we decide to buy some souvenirs.  Key chains, shirts and such are bought for some cash.  I even helped Nick with his "things I'm going to do before I die" list: buy the man a license plate from the state and get it signed by a Walmart manager.  After the purchases it's back on the road.  Nothing interesting happens as we drive to the next town, Miles City I think, and we rent another room cluster for the night.  It's not until the next morning when something happens.  

            "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO!  Why now of all times?!  Of all places and situations why now?!"  Silver hisses in anger and frustration.  She paces back and forth, her tail lashing out like a whip while her neck hairs bristle with anger and frustration; claws springing in and out of her fingers.  Eventually I bring her a stop, unable to watch her pace any longer and not know why she's troubled.  

            "What's going on Silver?" I ask.  Both of us woke up and found out we can't seem to shapeshift into our human disguises anymore.  I want to know the why and at the same time not wanting to know the answer.  

            "Alright, in a nutshell, we've got a 'cold'," she says as simply as she can.  "This 'sickness' prevents us from shapeshifting, creating lightning, aiding in recovery time and so on, so forth.  Weak like children who need their mother's help when they skin there knee.  The only thing we still can do is hide our fur…"  

            "But a tiger's skin is also striped and colored," I finish for her, crossing my arms in frustration and trying to think.  

            "It's because we haven't been with the moon for a while.  We don't regenerate energy as easily like Phoenix's do when in the sun and warmth, nor are we powerhouses like the kitsune.  We draw our energy from the moon and energy stored in crystals," she pulls out a quartz crystal and tosses it to me.  Immediately I 'sense' that the rock is dead of energy.     

            "Urgh!  Stupid scientists, stupid soldiers, fishka to kaiber those cazzo bastardos!" She hisses.             I blink and clear my ears with a finger; being careful of the thin bones in them.  Eff them to hell.  She's pretty pissed off.  Kelsey sits on the bed calmly through the conversation when she gets a foxy grin on her face.  When I see that grin and a look in her eyes, part of me knows it's not going to be fun for me.  

            "I wonder if the other girls brought make-up." Kelsey wonders aloud before digging in her bag for a 'make me pretty' kit.  Oh no.  This is not going to be fun.  I know that look means something is going to happen and I'm a part of it.  I can't think of anything worse than what she's planning on doing.  

            The scheming kitsune walks out the door and comes back a minute later with a brush and other items involved in feminine beauty.  In that moment I know the answer to my last question: What's worse than what she's planning?  Still being in the room when that plan is in motion.

            (A/N: I'm not really a girl so I'll just be making this scene up as well as the breakfast scene up)  

            She puts this stuff on my face and all over my cheeks, face, nose, neck and the stuff trails down to my arms and legs; jumping a bit at the leg treatment.  And whenever I think she's done I hear her mutter something like 'missed this here' or 'doesn't look real at this angle' and such.  I have no other thing to do except to suck it up and pray for her to be finished soon with this torture.  She throws a shirt on me and combs my hair, (I softly purr while she does that much to the disappointment of my 'tough-guy-ego') and I think she does some other stuff before I hear the magic words: "Alright, I'm done."  

            The first thing I do is open my eyes in relief and see a human-me looking back.  But then I realize my ears are still showing and I still have an odd nose; despite Kelsey's best attempts to make it look normal.  Kelsey tells me I can say I was born with it or got it broken or something.  Regardless of facial appearance, I still feel my claws in my fingers and my tail has been bound up under my shirt.  It feels uncomfortable, but I can deal with it.  My ears swivel around and are pressed onto my head, before getting tied down with a headband.  It's a Naruto one with the metal and plating, but it's better than having the ears stick up.  With another sigh we three girls head down for some quick breakfast, settling down in a booth for our meal.  But I settle down last, turning in the room keys early.

            Being one of those people that will read anything with words, I grab a newspaper and page through it; bored and my ADHD kicking in.  What surprises me is that the headline doesn't show our names; even though it's been four days since our escape.  I would think there would be wanted posters, warnings or something to get people to notice us.  What I do see is our pictures in the 'missing teens' section, photo shopped to make it look like we're dressed up for some kitty-cat convention.  Height, weight, eye color, hair color, race (human apparently), and the rest of the data are pretty accurate; considering we gave them some of what we know.  When the waitress arrives to take our order, I turn over the paper as if she surprised me.  

            "Let's see… one coffee and… two waters," Silver says while ordering our food as well.  Scrambled eggs taste surprisingly good to my tongue and the bacon isn't half-bad if a little greasy for my taste.  Kelsey has a light French toast as her coffee arrives; needing it to wake up fully despite the humorous morning we had with feminine products.  I'm about halfway done with my eggs as the door opens.  Two police officers arrive and I can tell by the way they look at the occupants that they aren't here just for coffee and donuts.