[center]Mind/Flayer/Theft[/center] Buff, tough, and rough. Pecs, gut, and butt. Large and powerful beyond belief. Only the muscles, not in mind. No brain, no thoughts. Stretching, the timber wolf’s belly jiggles. Walking, the canine’s rear jiggles. Bouncing, his chest jiggles. Early morning light creeps in from the windows. Dark, cloudy light. Washing over the bulky wolf, and the Lycanroc. Creaking, groaning wood joins in the percussion. Ink-black, knee-high boots over digitigrade paws, tan pants, a red shirt matching the fluff on his torso, a silken, black suit possessing golden studs on the white, lacy cuffs, both halves of the coat bound together by a white bowtie, and a large, alien, tentacled brain sticking out of his open skull. Blood-red eyes scrutinize the hulking wolf wagging happily before him. Smirking, he nods to himself, scratching his chin with the dark, trimmed claws on his soft paws. Ivory flashes in the gentle light, glistening teeth peeking out from the smirk. “My, my, Pet. You’ve come quite far in five months, Titus.” Wandering eyes travel up and down. Green fur cross, dark brown fur covering his body, and creamy fur on his ventral side and the flame markings on his right shin and left forearm. Golden eyes, dull and empty, stare back with his tongue hanging out of his muzzle. Digitigrade paws leap over to the Lycanroc, eager and happy. Dumb smiling from ear to ear shows Titus’ expression plainly. “Thanks, Master! I feel great!” Staring intently at the smaller Lycanroc, the wolf mindlessly wags. “Goooood. Good boy!” Reaching up, the smaller canine starts rubbing behind Titus’ ears. “Your brain is still safe, correct?” Pulling back, Titus nods and turns to his own bed. “Yes, Master!” Reaching underneath the wooden frame of the bed, the delicate sounds of roughly handled glass ring. Crawling out from under the bed Titus shouts, “Still here! Jarred and safe like you wanted!” Pressing one claw to his snout, the Lycanroc’s lips part to softly hiss, “Shhhh!” Staring at the jar, he gracefully steps closer. Etched with runes of life and healing, bathed in water, and bobbing peacefully in the center of the glass. “Hmmm”, he says, narrowing his eyes, “It has shrunken considerably. About half the size it used to be. Nowhere near as wrinkly as before, though the cerebellum seems to be an exception.” Shutting his eyes, he hums for a second while tapping his boot against the floor. “No real thoughts anymore either. Drained dry of all intellect and wisdom. Perfect!” Chuckling to himself, the Lycanroc looks up to meet Titus’ eyes. “Quite an attractive brain you used to have; wouldn’t you agree?” Nodding with enough vigor to shake his body and jostle his old, jarred brain, Titus' booming voice fills the room. “Indeed, Master! It looks hot! So much better outside my skull.” Hugging the jar to his massive chest, Titus shuts his eyes and smiles. Between the valley of his pecs, the glass strains. Inscribed spells for Wish, Create Food and Water, and Dominate Person glow and shimmer. “Just remember, call me Ruffles while out and about.” Extending his brainy tentacles out, the slender, purple appendages wrap around a large top hat. Folding the spike of fluff above his head forward, he rests the top hat atop his crown. “Now, as you’ve improved physically, I think it’s time to start planning for the future.” Vapidity in Titus’ stare precedes a long, “Uuuuuuh...” Tilting his head, smoke would start pouring out of those large, fluffy ears if there was a brain inside his skull. “You’re such an adorable himbo, Titus.” Snickering and laughing, Ruffles continues, “My kingdom can’t rise without subjects. Shall we go find new himbos to help us?” Taking the jarred brain out of Titus’ paws, Ruffles slips it underneath the wolf’s bed. Lifting the key off the nightstand and walking to the door, Ruffles tosses the brass into the air over and over while nodding to the door. “Go on, boy!” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clouds clear up fast for the noon sun to slam the autumn markets. Chill ineffectively washes over the fur of the duo as they wander about. Salted meats, dried and fresh fruits and vegetables, feral animal furs both sewn into clothing and fresh pelts, and the rare stall selling other adventuring gear, scrolls, and miscellany. Diminutive sprites prancing around the roofs, intelligent animals haggling with sellers, and anthros of all kinds moving from stall to stall, purchasing goods. Loud cries of merchants, city folk jabbering, and eager customers fill the plaza. Eyes glance back and forth, examining all around. Ruffles clutches his overcoat while staring at Titus and nodding. “Chilly day, it seems. Fur, scales, and anything not bare skin.” Walking through the west end of the market, stares and the occasional wolf whistle follow as the crowd looks over Titus, the town hero. “Looking good, Titus!” “Martial now, I assume? Good work!” “What happened to your magic?” Training pays off. Absentmindedly smiling and waving to everyone, showering them in platitudes and reassurances the entire time. “Don’t worry! I’m just trying something new, finding my true calling. Thank you all for the support!” Rehearsed responses work wonders. “Hehe... You’ve only gotten more popular with time. Perfect.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wading, pushing, shoving through the crowd, Ruffles and Titus work to the outside of the market. Leaning against the wooden frame of a nearby edifice, Titus leans down to whisper, “Did you find anyone worth it?” “Possibly.” Scratching his chin, Ruffles stares up toward the sky while pondering, “One draft horse, saw a couple good wolves, there was a strong dragonborn by the meat racks, and there’s probably more out there worth a gander.” Looking idly into the mass of sapient beings, the Lycanroc’s gleaming, red eyes scan for any good candidates. Black scales and fur shine. Golden, radiant eyes that pierce the soul. Red fins around the eyes and fins on the fuzzy, black arms. Slender physique, with decent muscle definition. Sheet of abs, flat but distinct pecs, and well-sized biceps. Titus’ figure in all but three ways, the long tail with spines around the end, the fins on his arms, and no belly. Large velvety ears stand up, while his eyes narrow. Narrow on Ruffles. Widen at Titus. Gasping, the figure waves to duo. Flipping the fruit merchant a silver coin, he starts strutting closer. Slipping the item into his pocket, his gait becomes bouncy. Step by step, his cocky grin back up his acrobatic skill. Hopping around crates, shoppers, and jumping over a tall dragonborn, the spry dragon being lands on his paws. Shrugging, smiling, and placing a hand on his hip, the man’s swagger froze both Titus and Ruffles in place. Telescope bound to the belt around his patchy leather pants, caked with scratches, bounces with a slight jingle. Silver glints by his right ear. Imbedded in the velvety leather, a small, circular earring. The only apparel above his waist. Attached to his hips, two well varnished, clean, wooden tonfa. Raising two claws in a curt wave, he winks while chiming in a deep voice, “Heya.” “Greetings, I am Ruffles.” With a shallow bow, the Lycanroc places one paw over his heart. Mimicking the motions, Titus gives a deeper bow. “Salutations, I’m Titus!” Putting one paw on his hips, the other sticks one claw out toward his chest. “Typhoon. Nargacuga. Pleased to meet you both.” Extending both paws out, a friendly look in his eyes lights up those golden pools. “You two are the couple the town refuses to stop talking about.” “Couple?” Raising an eyebrow, Ruffles’ jovial expression becomes giddy. Laughing quietly, holding his stomach, and shaking his head. “No, no. I’m afraid the rumor mill has churned out its usual vile pound of flour.” Huffing, the Cuga looks downward. “Apologies. It seemed too good to be true. Every romantic this block and next was pining for the sweet scent of love.” “Now, now.” Placing a paw onto Typhoon’s hard, muscular arm, Ruffles nods to the tall reptilian. Leaning in, the Lycanroc whispers in a hushed voice, “It means that Titus and I are not spoken for.” Licking his beak, the Nargacuga winks. Keeping quiet in turn, “Is this a proposition?”, he coos. “Not necessarily. Adventuring is dangerous business. Monk like yourself would make a wonderful addition to the team.” Clicking his tongue, Ruffles speaks in a sultry tone, “If it happens to progress from there... Well, plenty of adventurers find their soul mates within their packs.” Crossing his arms, Typhoon nods to himself. Cocking his head towards Ruffles, his voice drips with desire. Hot breaths escape with each word, “An adventuring proposition. I’ll want time to scope out your team. Want to see if I’ll be a good fit.” “Sounds as though we’ve got an appointment.” Backing up, Ruffles straightens up his bowtie, snickering the entire time. Returning his volume to normal levels, the Lycanroc’s tone becomes business. “Room 190 at Stablehaven. We’ll be conducting our interview tonight.” Extending a paw out, the Cuga’s face suppresses the lust behind his eyes. “Wonderful! Can’t wait.” Ruffles reaches out to return the handshake without pause. Firm, strong grip and the flexing of muscles is palpable with each shake. Physically stronger than the smaller lupine. Much stronger. Enticingly stronger! Ending the shake, Ruffles’ heartrate accelerates. Walking around one wolf, Typhoon struts over to the other one. “I’m ecstatic to meet you, hero.” Offering another handshake, the monk begins fishing around his pockets. Nodding fast enough that he would’ve given himself a concussion, Titus extends both his arms out and smiles wide. “Yay! Happy to meet you!” In an instant, he leaps toward the nargacuga. Grunting at the barbarian’s overly powerful hug, the handshake turns into patting Titus’ back. Smiling, Typhoon’s strained voice squeaks, “Nice to see someone so affectionate!” Prying his way out of the hug, Typhoon taps his chest, clears his throat, and pulls his paw out of this pocket. Purple, slender, long, and seasonal. Unblemished eggplant. Dexterously, Typhoon places it carefully inside Titus’ maw. “Just a little gift. Enjoy~” Quickly fishing in his pocket again, the nargacuga plucks a fuzzy, pink peach out. Coy winking, a wink, and a long, drawn-out lick of the peach prelude his final comment, “I’ll be sure to talk with you plenty tonight.” Swaggering off, intentionally swaying his hips with each step, the nargacuga disappears in the crowd. “Seems we’ve found a prime candidate, Titus. How about we head home and prepare.” Slinking back through the crowds, Ruffles’ brain starts simmering with ideas. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dark dusk breaks in the candlelight. Idly munching on the eggplant, Titus sits absentmindedly on his bed. Beside him, Ruffles casts off his top hat. Gray matter of enormous proportions undulating with thought, the Lycanroc’s mind counts each second. Hopping off the bed and onto the creaking wood floor, the Lycanroc motions to Titus with both arms. “Seeing as it’s nearly time for our guest to arrive, I’d like to prepare the room and you for him. Would you please get your old brain out?” “Yes, Master!” Ears perking up, tail wagging, and a whining bedframe as Titus jumps off, the eager wolf starts fumbling beneath his bed. Pulling out the diminutive, drained gray matter, he holds the jar between his pecs while bringing it to his owner. “Here it is!” Taking the jar from the brainless wolf, Ruffles sets it atop his own bed. Prying the lid off, he stares at his first catch. His first thrall, servant, pet, friend... Shaking his head, the sentimentality clouding his thoughts retreats to the fringes of his consciousness. “Horrible, I’d imagine. I dread to think what could happen should Typhoon stumble upon this...” Seconds tick by with Ruffles staring at Titus’ brain. Seconds getting louder in his ears with the heavy beating of his heart. Breathing deeply, the mindflayer’s tentacles descend from his brain into the nourishing jar. Pulling the brain up and out with the utmost care, he stares at it momentarily. “Sustenance would be such a shame... I’ll grant you a tremendous privilege instead.” Heart racing, mind freezing, and brain welcoming. Not the Elder Brain Ruffles dreamed of making, but the spike of elation rushing through his mind as his tentacles draw Titus’ brain between his own hemispheres is worth its weight in knowledge. Shivering, Ruffles feels his fur stand on end. Within his own mind, a smaller, dimmer, drained mortal mind stirs. [i]“Hmm?”[/i] Static swarms over the vacant mind. Barely a brain to think with. [i]“Good evening, Pet.”[/i] Dry mouth, beating heart, and slowing thoughts. Time for the final part. Instinct urges for the superior brain to consume, to swallow up the mortal inside. Growing as an Elder Brain, developing his mind, no matter how slowly, and collecting every bit of power possible... relenting. Bonds, attachment, excitement. A thrall, HIS thrall. Instinct to rule, conquer, dominate, drain, protect, cherish... unrelenting. Sluggish, small thoughts start pulsing within. Rejuvenated neurons activate, however faintly. [i]“Ruffles? Where are you?”[/i] Smirking, the Lycanroc turns around. Locking his gaze right onto Titus’ body, he gradually allows his eyes to wander up and down. [i]“Still in the same head I occupied a year back. I hope you enjoy it too.”[/i] Calculating, pausing, thinking as hard as possible, Titus’ mind attempts to connect the dots. [i]“Uh... Who is that?”[/i] Words barely forming in his nerves, barely an understanding of them. Chuckling, Ruffles holds a paw out. Thinking in response, [i]“Titus, meet your body. He’s lost his knack for magic, but that meant he could spend it all bulking up. Quite an attractive transformation, I must say.”[/i] Slow, purposeful steps swing Ruffles’ vision to the side, then behind Titus’ body. [i]“Don’t worry too much about thinking. I’ll be sure to drain anything you don’t need away.”[/i] Fixing his gaze on the massive, bubbly rear of the brainless body before him, Ruffles halts his stroll and stares. Devious thoughts swirl in the Lycanroc’s head. Eager, alien thoughts coalescing into a concrete plan as his eyes look up at Titus’ vacant head. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [b]Tap! Tap! Rap-Tap-Tap![/b] Knocking a short jingle into the door of room 190, Typhoon taps the claws on his paws against the wall he leans against. “Good evening, Titus. Good evening, Ruffles. I apologize for delaying so long.” [b]Click.[/b] Opening with barely a creek, Titus stands in the open doorway. Holding out his paw, the timber wolf’s bedroom eyes are in full force. Doubly so, with the barbarian wearing naught but a jockstrap. “Salutations, Typhoon. I’m glad that you came tonight.” Stepping aside, he gestures toward the room, his arm lining up with the bed. “This interview will take all night. I hope that isn’t an issue.” Typhoon’s thoughts are displayed readily on his face. Widely grinning, “Not at all. I’ll just have to stay the night then”, he quips while strutting in. Occupying the other bed, Ruffles stares with a dumb smile on his face. Blinking unevenly, the Lycanroc’s top hat rests unsteadily atop his head. Faint lines of drool hang from his muzzle, dripping onto his shirt. Typhoon halts, his own horny mind freezing seeing the incoherent Lycanroc. Tilting his head, bewilderment blossoms in his expression. “Apologies for Ruffles’ unsightly appearance there. I wanted a chance to interview you personally.” Shutting the door without a sound, the lock clicks as the room is sealed. “Nothing like a temporary dose of Dominate Person to keep him busy.” Scratching the back of his head, two distinct emotions dance on Typhoon’s face. Gulping, he mumbles to himself for a second. Clearing his throat, he turns back to Titus with nervous mischief. “In that case, I can think of some fun...”, looking around aimlessly, he briefly taps the front of his pants, “skills I can demonstrate for both of you.” Huffing, Titus puts his paws behind his head. “Exactly what I wanted to hear.” Cocky grin plastered on his face; he walks with heavy steps. Bouncing belly, pecs, and the faint clap of his rear hidden by the groaning wood under his paws. Pressing his belly against Typhoon’s abs, the enormous wolf nods to his bed. Leaping back, the nargacuga lands in the center of the mattress. Patting the side with one paw, he begins to fiddle with his belt using the other. Tonfa and telescope clatter as they jostle against his hips. Shiny silver reflects the soft candlelight on his ear. “Hope you don’t mind if I take a seat here. I’ll be ready in a second.” Walking to the end of his bed, Titus leans forward. Holding his arms out and placing them to each side of Typhoon’s head. “Not a problem in the slightest! Before you do...” Diving in, Titus’ muzzle buries into his partner’s neck. “Ah!” Blinking, the monk feels his heart racing. Blood pumping downstairs, down from the jugular. Down to his other head. Eyelids fluttering open, he smiles a lustful smile. “Getting right into it? I like it!” Nudging, nuzzling, with his fluffy snoot continues. Hard presses, soft glances, and a rare lick now and again. Working higher up centimeter by centimeter, tapping the soft canine sniffer against the tough beak. Grinding, rubbing vigorously alongside Typhoon. Hip meets hip as a tough rod jabs against Titus’ groin. “Seems as though you’ve become rather aroused”, the wolf’s voice growls into Typhoon’s ear. Propelling his body forward, he starts dropping himself onto the nargacuga. Belly and pecs weighing down atop the cuga, Titus lines his head parallel to Typhoon’s. Ensnaring Titus in a hug, cuga claws start exploring all over the dominate body above him. “I can say the same for you! Those lips down there are awfully wet!” Clicking his tongue, he nods over to the other bed. “Maybe, you can command Ruffles to join in some fun ways too.” “Hehe... One last thing I need to do before we do anything else.” Patting Titus’ back, Typhoon moans in a low voice, “Oh really? What might that be?” “You’ll see shortly. I’m certain you’ll love it!” Tickling in his ear is the answer. Slight wiggling in the cuga’s ear canal. Giggling a tad, he starts wiggling a bit. Unable to move underneath Titus, Typhoon’s tail is all that can budge. Attempting to pull his head away from Titus’ yields no meaningful results. “T-That feels funny! What’re you up to in there?” Wiggling, writhing, deeper within. Deeper into the cuga’s head that ticklish sensation burrows. “Almost done now. Come to Daddy!” Numbness. Paralysis. Stunned. Typhoon’s mind freezes as the wiggling hits the center of his skull. Blinking unevenly, the monk’s face starts to twist and contort through a variety of pleasured, dumb expressions. Unfocused, moving his mind through molasses, and feeling a sense of disconnection. “T-Titus?” [b]POP![/b] Ominous laughter beside the cuga fills the room. Pushing himself off the bed, Titus stares down at Typhoon. Another dumb, blank face. Golden eyes so similar to Titus’ with a familiar emptiness. Brainless staring punctuated by uneven blinking. All thanks to the tentacle inside his head. “Cute! I wish I could’ve seen your expressions too. Titus made such adorable faces.” Yanking delicately on his prize, Titus teases the wrinkly, pink organ out of Typhoon’s ear. Ensnared in the violet tentacle, the cerebrum all the way to the cerebellum pops out at once. Climbing down from the bed, Titus approaches the nightstand. Faint candlelight illuminates the surface of the brain in his grasp. Lifting it up to his eyes, Titus examines the organ. “Hmmmm... Relatively smooth cerebrum, enlarged cerebellum, particularly thick stem, and rather diminutive in total mass.” Slithering a second tentacle free from his other ear, Titus begins running the appendage between the hemispheres. Titus eyes widen and he lets loose a low, long whistle. “Rather dirty brain, at that. Yet...”, prying between the folds, Titus clicks his tongue, “Quite a berth of martial knowledge. Fisticuffs, meditative techniques, and extensive knowledge of ki.” Scratching his chin, Titus walks over and plucks the top hat off Ruffles’ head. Dusting off the top with his paws, Titus nods to the Lycanroc with an empty skull. Planting it atop his own crown, he turns back to his bed. Typhoon, brainless and giddy, staring up at him with a dull expression. Pure glee erupts on the wolf’s face. Closing his eyes, Titus opens his mind. Listening in for the smaller consciousness within... [i]“That was amazing, Master! Thank you for the firsthand experience!”[/i] Burgeoning excitement breaks the composure of the brain riding Titus’ body. [i]“Do you even know what those words mean? Or did you simply borrowing them from my brain to use?”[/i] Shaking his new head, Ruffles continues, [i]“Either way. We’ve gathered quite a specimen this time.”[/i] [i]“What are you going to do with his brain, Master?”[/i] Shrugging, Ruffles taps Titus’ paw against the floor. [i]“Without you inside of it, the jar is free to fill again.”[/i] Cracking open his eyelids a sliver, Ruffles licks his chops. Both tentacles begin to retract into Titus’ head. [i]“Although, I can simply keep a brain this small... closer.”[/i] Slipping into the ear canal, an enormous pressure fills the wolf’s skull. Stretching, straining, as a tentacle hauls his prize into his borrowed ear. Yet not a single permanent mark on the body from all that contortion. Drawn deeper within Titus’ skull, shoved deeper into the hybrid beginnings of a new breed of Elder Brain. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- What started as one mortal mind became two. A second consciousness, spinning and churning below the surface of his own mind. Rising, swelling from within. Unable to break through the calm waters above him. [i]“Huh!? What!? Where is this?”[/i] Emotions, wild and fresh, emanate from the lizard’s brain. Dim light illuminates a featureless wall before him. [i]“Why can’t I open my eyes!?”[/i] [i]“They aren’t your eyes, after all... Speaking fairly, they weren't mine originally either, but when you’re top brain in the head, you call the shots.”[/i] [i]“Salutations! Pleasure to meet you!”[/i] Mental eyes opening wider, Typhoon’s incorporeal flailing accomplishes nothing. [i]“Who are you two!? Where are you both!?”[/i] [i]“Easy, easy. Both of us are right beside you. Though, beside might not convey how close we are.”[/i] Vision sweeping downward, the black fur and scales of a nargacuga come into sight. Holding up a lupine paw covered in brown fur, the flame-like patterns of creamy fur on the left forearm comes into view. Waving, the wolf’s paw lowers after a couple seconds. Waving back, the vapid smile and dull eyes of Typhoon light up. Giggling, he waves back with both his paws and his wagging tail. “Hehe... Hi, Daddy.” Shivers rock Typhoon’s consciousness. [i]“Daddy!? Why did I say that!? How am I watching myself!?”[/i] Shivers that intensify as an alien tendril worms inside. [i]“Anxious thralls won’t do. Detrimental, those thoughts are. Never fear, I’ll be sure to take good care of them. Nothing you won’t be needing, at least~”[/i] Snaking deeper into that thinking organ, each pulse, throb, and thought becomes tantalizing ambrosia to the tentacle syphoning it. Extracting each stray thought, memory, gained intelligence, and drop of wisdom. [b]Slurp.[/b] Intelligence down. [i]“H-Hey! What are... what is... feels funny...”[/i] [b]Slurp.[/b] Wisdom down. [i]“Master, that sucking feeling feels good! Please, drain me more too!”[/i] [b]Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.[/b] Syphoned. Drained. Stolen. Taken... Dumb and blank. Static similar to that of an empty mind occupies the new corner of Ruffles’ brain. Licking his new muzzle, Ruffles rubs over his forehead as one would their stomach after a fulfilling meal. [i]“Aaaah... Certainly, a rather spicy morsel, but a filling one!”[/i] Moronic, mortal thoughts spring to the front of his mind. [i]“I hope I’ll be able to do that someday too, Master. It looks fun!”[/i] [i]“With the right modifications, Pet. Anything is possible for one with a brain such as mine... Thinking of modifications, I’ve got a few changes for you both~”[/i] Loose smirking plasters itself on Titus’ face. Tentacles within the wolf’s head get to work expediently. Plunging into the hemispheres of both Titus and Typhoon, the tendrils rummage about. Searching for the proper neurons, the proper thoughts, and implanting into them. Smothering those smooth brains in superior thoughts. [i]“With how lewd the new brain in our collective is, I thought I’d partake of these ideas myself. Hope you both enjoy serving inside Daddy’s brain~”[/i]