[b][u][center]Candied Judgment For DrakeHavok By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b] Lacking purpose for the day, Suformia decided to visit the local convention hall. He had seen flyers up all over town, each one talking about a showdown between chefs from all over the world, and the demon had hopes of seeing something spectacular, something that showed real promise towards transforming the ingredients given into a work of art. Sadly, such was not to be. Suformia hid his reactions from the public the way that he hid his true form, by burying it beneath an imitation of goo as flesh. All those twisty-turny feelings of annoyance and grumbling anger were buried beneath a sweet façade of dark black fur-goo, the disguised disturbed demon walking around as a grinning wolf as he tried to find something, anything, that was worth looking at. [i]Microwaved, packaged, packaged AND microwaved…[/i] Suformia shook his head, stuffing his hands further into his pockets as his body rippled with annoyance. [i]Doesn’t anyone come here with good ideas?[/i] If any of his underlings had come to him with something this poor back when he was down in the other world, he would have ripped them a new one. No, two new ones, with an optional third if they started to get defensive about it. It was a shambles, really. Nothing but a bunch of amateurs that were trying to pass off their packaged, pre-bought, or microwaved goods as something that was authentically created. It was just downright pathetic, and not worth his attention. He desperately hoped to find something, anything, because he could tell that he would need to do [i]something[/i] if he didn’t encounter something worthwhile. [i]Pre-bought noodles, overcooked and covered with Ragu,[/i] he thought as he passed one table. [i]You could at least mix and match the sauces…[/i] [i]Curried noodles…you put that in a box and then shoved it into the microwave. Nothing fresh or interesting there,[/i] he thought as he walked by another table. [i]Could have bought that down the street at the Thai place.[/i] [i]What…[/i] Suformia paused, staring down at the abomination on the table in front of him. The body of the wolf he’d created shivered, his fingers momentarily turning to jelly blobs before he got hold of himself again. It took all of a second, but it was more than what should have happened, considering his usual control. He knelt down at the edge of the table, looking at the presented dish. It had no rhyme or reason to it, no theming. It was a salad, or something with lettuce, at the very least, but it was drowned in some sort of white sauce, and beneath the sauce was a meat that could have been lamb, or maybe beef. Possibly veal? It was impossible to tell, since it was so overcooked as to be absolutely burnt. And whoever had cooked it have over-seasoned it to hell and back. He would know. He’d been there. The sheer reek of cayenne and chili powder overpowered anything else that might have been on the plate, and it made the demon want to just disintegrate to get away from the mess. He was still trying to pull himself together when the cook – and he used that term lightly – approached the other side of the table. “Hi. Can I help you?” the fox asked. “What…what is…that?” Suformia asked as he stood up, fighting a gag. “Oh, uh, that’s my personal creation. Best food I ever made.” “I cannot believe that. I honestly cannot believe that.” “Well, the judges didn’t think it was so great, but –” “No, I mean, I cannot believe that you’ve made something that is [i]worse[/i] than whatever that thing is.” “I…well…” The fox rubbed the back of his head, looking down shamefacedly. “You don’t have to be quite so cruel as that…” “Cruel? Obviously, you’ve been far too kind.” He pushed the dish with the edge of his finger, and he made sure to only touch the bottom of the plate. The food looked so bad that he honestly worried it would taint his own creativity to come in contact with it. “What made you think this was a good idea?” “Well, meat’s good…so are salads…and a good sauce…” “Not all together! Good lord –” Suformia paused, wincing. Demons weren’t [i]entirely[/i] allowed to use language like that, after all. “You have to think it through. Creativity requires [i]effort![/i] It requires thinking everything through, how the elements fit together. Not just…slapping down different things and hoping it turns out alright.” He couldn’t look at the dish anymore. Suformia turned away, shaking his head several times as he tried to wipe that abomination from his mind. It was…it was trash. Nothing but. Worthy of being consigned to the scrap heap of the universe and never seen again, lest the true creators find themselves drained forever. “Just…throw it away and start again. Anything, [i]anything[/i] would be better than this.” “But I don’t have –” “Literally…anything…Just…stop working on dinner and do something else.” Suformia left before the dish could offend him any further. The smell of chili and cayenne would take days to fade from his nose no matter how many transformations he went through, he had no doubt of that. The demon in wolf clothing wandered towards the center of the building, sitting down in what passed for the food court. Even though it was little more than hot pizza, hot plate teriyaki, and a familiar sandwich shop, they were still better than the majority of the dishes he was seeing in the competition. He had no idea how they were supposed to believe that they were good enough to be entered in any sort of competitive venue, but… Shaking his head, he looked towards the judging stage in the distance. He could just make out the last of this round’s competitors bringing their dishes forward, offering them to the judges for tasting. He expected to see grimaces on their faces, but they seemed to be almost content with the dishes that they were given. [i]Taste. What has happened to taste in this world?[/i] Shaking his head, he flopped back in his seat dramatically, staring up at the ceiling and grumbling to himself. “Idiotic imbeciles ingesting inedible ingredients,” the demon muttered, covering his eyes with hands that were shimmering to a different shape already. His clothes shifted with him, shrinking down into a loose coat that hung from wide shoulders. He had gone from a wolf to a rat, shaking his head as he plopped his feet up on the table in front of him. The fact that someone further down the table complained at the bump didn’t phase him in the slightest. If anything, he just smirked to himself. [i]This whole place needs an education on what true creativity actually is,[/i] he decided. [i]They’re a disaster waiting to happen. All it will take is one idiot thinking they can cook presenting a dish cooked badly, and…[/i] He shivered. There were those that disagreed with him, but Suformia was a powerful proponent of the idea of Universal Creativity, or the idea that all the different creative ventures of the universe were connected to one another. If one creator did not do well, then it pulled down the different ventures around them, just as those that were doing well pulled the ventures around them upwards. All of these ‘cooks’ passing these disasters off as ‘beautiful creations’ must be forming a black hole of creative negativity. Anybody that was in the vicinity would be having their imaginations drained off, and he swore that he could already feel it happening to him. He had no idea how long he had before he thought that a little blurp of his body, shaved off and shaped like a block, would feel like a magnificent venture. No, in the name of creative people everywhere, he needed to stop this. Oh, and before a cook got killed by a bad dish, he supposed. That was probably important, too. The former wolf, now a rat, stood up and walked away from the table. There was only one competition left for the day, and he planned on making sure that it went his way. That was to say, beautifully, brutally honest. # “Gentlemen, I thank you for your service and your outfits,” Suformia said as he settled a chef’s hat on his head. “But your presence is no longer required. You can wait here until the end of the convention.” The rat had transformed into a hippopotamus, and he wore a rather form-fitting apron and white uniform on. It wasn’t quite the same as a chef’s outfit in a proper, fancy restaurant, but it was better than the clothes that he had been wearing. The real hippo, on the other hand, was kneeling beside the mouse and the vixen that had been judging all the other dishes. Suformia had broken off pieces of his goo body, reformed them into snakes for bondage ties, and then settled the fangs of the snakes around the necks of the three judges. Too much struggling, and…well, it was pretty obvious what would happen to them. Adjusting the hat for a proper, rakish angle – truly, you couldn’t be too serious with these mushroom hats – he smiled and turned his back on them. “I will return after finding something worthwhile…even if I have to make it myself.” The grumbles of protest faded from his ears quickly enough. He left them behind the curtains on the judging stage, sealing them away in the little bubble that he’d been able to form back there, and then made his way to the table. The other two chairs were cleared away as he told the convention staff that the other judges had taken ill and had to leave. Looking down at the competitors, Suformia couldn’t help but flash a rather evil grin. He had been practicing it ever since he came up with this plan, and he saw the faces of so many prospective chefs start to fall. They knew something was up. “Ladies and gentlemen. As I am now the sole remaining judge, we will not go through the desserts one by one. You will bring them all to me at once, and I will critique them as I go through. The winner, of course, will be the one who combines the best inventive approach to their food with the greatest flavor. Understood?” The crowd muttered various statements that they did. “Alright. Bring your food forward.” As ordered, the various cooks brought their dishes forward. Desserts of various sorts were placed before him, and just like when he was wandering through the exhibition hall, Suformia was disappointed. [i]Store-bought pastries, bakery-purchased muffins and cupcakes, cakes that were made out of a mix…[/i] It was painful to see, and just when he was hoping that there’d be some hope for people. Desserts were some of the most creative foods out there, and with sugar-work and everything else that could be done to make them particularly beautiful, there was really no excuse for people to be bringing forward the trash that he was seeing. [i]If you’re going to compete…compete.[/i] There were only a few saving graces. One person had at least cooked their cupcakes from scratch, though their toppings left much to be desired. Nothing more than canned icing, but at least it was fresh-made baked goods. They’d get something. Another person had done a bit with food coloring, making a design through their cake that actually gave it a little color and loveliness. Not enough to forgive the lack of icing, but Suformia felt that he could give them a [i]little[/i] leeway. Finally, there was a little monster of a dessert that actually left him staring at it for a moment or two, cocking his head to the side at the sight of it. Candy-canes were stuck into the top of a mound of chocolate, and from what he could see, the cook in question had melted little holes in the chocolate before sticking the ends of the canes in so that they would actually stand up. The fact that there were strands of sugar strings between them, and that the chocolate was decorated with little dustings of powdered sugar to make it look like a winter wonderland, actually made for a half-decent dessert. He nodded his approval. Well, pseudo-approval. He knew that it would still taste a bit off, considering that peppermint and chocolate in these quantities would get positively vile very quickly, and the sugar dusting was more for visual effects than for any practical tasting, but it was still the best of a bad bunch. The ‘hippo’ looked up, pointing at the chocolate dessert. “Who made this?” he called into the crowd. At first, no one was willing to answer. He looked around, gazing into the eyes of everyone that he could see. He wanted to give someone credit, wanted to see someone that had the brains to at least try. Eventually, someone did. Suformia was surprised to see that it was the same fox whole vile dinner had nearly given him a fit. He blinked as the vulpine figure stepped forward, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is it that bad?” the fox asked. “Bad?” Suformia chuckled. “Hardly. It’s the best of a bad bunch, as a matter of fact.” The fox gasped, his eyes going wide with a glint of happiness in them, but it was the mutter of the crowd that caught the demon’s attention. Suformia looked past the young fox, glaring at the various other ‘chefs’ that were starting to complain about the fox’s praise. He heard them talking about how he must have been losing his marbles, that he hadn’t even tasted anything, that he must have been bribed. The demon shook his head as he got to his feet. “Ladies and gentlemen.” They grumbled, refusing to quiet down. Suformia sighed… Then ripped the tablecloth out from under the table. Every dessert, save for the fox’s, went flying through the air. They landed with crashes, clangs, and squelches as they hit the ground, different plates shattering and different plans coming apart from the impact. Food, both packaged and bought, were completely and utterly destroyed in less than a second. Everyone was quiet after that. “Ladies and gentlemen. Need I remind you that this is a cooking competition. At the very least, that means that you have to [i]cook.[/i] “And if any of you [i]dare[/i] to call the crap that you put in front of me cooking, let me tell you, I can tell the difference between a cake that was made from scratch and a cake that was made from a mix. I can [i]see[/i] the difference between something that you made and something that you [i]bought.[/i] “This little thing…” He held up the fox’s dish, shaking his head at it. It was really little more than a visual, a means of giving sweetness to the eye, but there were good things in it. “This, at least, had some effort put into it. Not much, since it’s clearly a rush job, and it would taste positively sickly after you had more than a few bites…but for those few bites, it would serve well enough.” “Are you saying that he wins, then?” one of the chefs asked. “I mean, are you seriously gonna reward bad food?” “No.” Suformia dropped the dessert, as if he was going to let it shatter. Secretly, he allowed it to fall just behind the judging table, some of his goo catching it as it started to spread out from under his feet. He smiled at the audience, shaking his head. “You still don’t get it. You think that you were going to be good enough to earn an award with that…crap?” Shaking his head, the ‘hippo’ continued to swell and grow beneath his uniform, his waist starting to bulge and push out over his middle, his entire body starting to shake and jiggle. The crowd didn’t seem to notice at first, but as he grew several inches taller, they certainly started to take note. The ooze of his body was already spreading out all the way beneath the table, running off the sides of the judging stage. He smiled at them, feeling the gray skin of the hippo stretching as his mask was about to burst. “You get nothing. You lose. Good day, sirs.” And with that, Suformia exploded. # Kyle was as surprised as everyone else when the judge seemed to explode into grape jelly. He jumped back from the stage, the fox wanting to be as far from the flood of purple goo as he could just in case it made him explode, too. But even as he ran, he could see it running behind him, forming a tidal wave of purple. Thanks to his species, he was keeping ahead of it, but only barely. He beat feet as he ran through the crowd, darting this way and that when most others were staring in shock at the impossible event. Possible, impossible, he didn’t really care. All he wanted was to get away from it. With a grunt, he heaved himself onto one of the tables, barely avoiding the first crash of goo. It slammed into the legs of the table, almost toppling it over, but there were enough gadgets on top that it all stayed where it was supposed to. Panting, he looked over his shoulders, and froze in shock. Whatever the purple ooze had touched was completely changed. The dozens of people behind him had been completely covered in it, and as the ooze pulled away, not all of the clumps that stuck to them disappeared. The people nearest to the front of the stage had been left with swirling marks around their ears, swirls that he didn’t recognize until the entire head was revealed, and he realized that they were the same spinning designs as had been on the candy canes. Their arms were rigid, less easily moved than normal ones, and he could just hear the soft grinding of the candy material against itself as they raised their arms. Some of them turned, and he could see that their eyes were glassy, almost like they weren’t living tissue anymore, reflective like just-poured, just-set candy, and with the same pink and white swirls in the center as was on the rest of their bodies. Kyle couldn’t help but stare, shaking his head as they were revealed still further. Their clothes had been stripped from them, and it looked almost as if all the females had been shifted to the outside of the lines and all the males to the inside. That, or they had been changed even to that extent during this…bizarre moment. Whatever had happened, they were also similar in body-shape. No more extremely round men, no more incredibly skinny women. The candy-people were stripped down to an average, and it showed as they were almost indistinguishable save for their ear shapes and tail styles. [i]Oh my god…oh my god oh my god…[/i] Whatever had happened to the other people in the crowd, he didn’t know, and he wasn’t about to stick around and find out. The ooze might be pulling back, but he could see the purple fountain of the former judge on the stage, still, and he could see another explosive wave building up. [i]Gotta get out of the building, gotta get out of the building![/i] Kyle kept running as fast as he could, the fox leaping and bounding over the different tables set up for cooking and exhibits. There were people further off that hadn’t seen the explosion in the middle of the convention center yet, and the fox had some small responsibility to let them know what was going on. Probably. Actually, if they weren’t between him and the doors, he probably would have run the hell away from them. “Run! Run away!” The fox shouted, waving his arms over his head, but they only barely turned to look at him. Most of them were still staring at this thing or that thing, this or that table, this or that dish. [i]Goddammit![/i] He looked over his shoulder, his eyes going wide. The purple wave was far higher than the last one, and it was moving much, much faster. And worst of all, it was starting its descent. With a yelp, the fox threw himself to the side, jumping for a table nearby. The purple ooze came splashing down, missing hm… Or at least, most of him. As Kyle panted for breath, he felt a weight at the tip of his tail. He turned, staring down at it, expecting it to be covered in the purple goo. Instead, it was covered in…chocolate. [i]Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…[/i] He gasped as he pulled his tail close, running his hands down it from the base to the tip. The fur felt completely normal, but the surprising part was when he touched the chocolate. It…it actually…he could still feel it. [i]How the…this isn’t…[/i] Kyle touched the chocolate fur at the tip of his tail again and again, poking it as if it was going to disappear or break off if he did it enough times. Every time, he could still feel his finger touching it, and the fur strands themselves still moved rather than staying brittle like chocolate. But it wasn’t just a coating, as he found out when he grabbed hold of one strand of fur and pulled. It broke off, falling into his hand, and he could see that it had been completely transformed into proper chocolate. The ooze was transforming him…but…but why? He looked back the way he’d come, and saw that the floor and the tables had been converted into a giant tray, almost like one of the silver ones that were put out for fancy banquets in palaces. Candy-cane men, moving chocolate statues, jelly-belly desserts, and rolly-polly gummy creatures were all making their way across the plate, as if they were taking up some position for decoration or something else. [i]Is this some sort of cosmic joke?![/i] He heard the roar of another wave coming, and knew there was no more time to think. Instead, he just ran. And ran. And ran. He leaped over a deep-fryer table and under a giant cake platter, and he dodged around the dealer’s market with all their knives and pans. Anything that would get him even a little closer to the doors. Splash, crash. Splash, crash. Closer and closer the wave came, constantly sucking away more and more of the convention center. He had no idea how much longer they had before it was completely consumed, and he was too afraid to look back and see what it had taken. [i]Just a bit further, just a bit further.[/i] Kyle looked ahead. He’d outstripped the crowd, left everyone else behind. If he could just have a little more time… The shadow of the next wave was just overhead, and he knew that there was no dodging this one. It spread out to all sides covering everything behind him. If he didn’t get out of the building this time, he was a goner. He pushed himself, running so fast that he swore that his heart might just give out if he didn’t get a break soon. The fox lunged for the doors – And bounced off them. As he landed flat on his ass, he saw the horrible, horrible sight of the door handles facing into the building. They were not push to open, but pull. Just as he realized it, the wave came crashing down, and he felt the ooze cover him completely. As soon as his body was completely covered, he felt a tingle running through him from head to toe, almost like the ooze was sinking in through his skin and becoming part of him. It was almost…exciting, in a way, like all of his nerves were firing at once, reacting and blasting him with a strange sense of pleasure. Kyle panted hard as the ooze slid away from him, desperately rubbing it away from his face. He had to see. He had to see what was happening. Finally, he cleared his eyes enough to see his hand and – “Mmmph!” His mouth was still held closed, but he could see the chocolate running along his fingers, covering his hand wherever the ooze wasn’t. He could still feel through it, sense the world around him, but…but his hand… He held it to his face. He could [i]smell[/i] the chocolate. Dark chocolate, in this case. Impossible, yet it had obviously happened. The tingle was still running through him, leaving him shivering and trembling as the ooze washed away. It wasn’t taking away his body, though, but rather…rather, it was corrupting it. Soaking into him, flooding into his skin through his pores, sliding into his fur and warping it, mutating it to become something else. The more the ooze left, the more sensitive he felt, particularly to heat. He could feel all the heat sources around him, but even where the chocolate started to drip on his body, it didn’t hurt. It actually felt…good, a bit like when he was edging himself and his dick started dripping. It was more like that than anything being taken away. Panting, the fox laid on his back as he felt the ooze leave him entirely. He held up his hands, looking at the chocolate running down his fingers, the bits of runny, half-melted stuff actually feeling surprisingly sensual. He brought his hands down to his chest, then down to his groin. His head was fogged-up enough that he actually felt like groping himself was completely fine, and the chocolate on his fingers was…actually surprisingly good lube. Kyle looked down at his dick, seeing that it had turned brown as the rest of him, chocolatey and hard. He ran his fingers along it, and the end seemed to drip more melted chocolate, pulled out from inside of him. Grinning, he started to rub it down along his cock – [i]Come to me…[/i] When the idea suddenly slipped from his mind. There was a greater power pulling at him than curiosity and arousal, and the young chocolate fox couldn’t help but obey. As he was drawn back towards the giant tray in the middle of the room, he could see that other people had been just as transformed as he was. There were gummy people, chocolate people, jelly people, and candy-cane people, all of them with their skin and fur changed into the candy that they’d become. Yet…they were still people. He could see it in their eyes, the confusion and the arousal, the strange pleasure that came from being warped the way that they had been. It was all there, just as it was for him. He joined the chocolate people, the bunch of them a bit slinky and stretched, almost as if they were in the process of perpetually melting and molding themselves. He reached over one of the mice near him, joining hands with a wolf on the other side. He was vaguely aware that his crotch was pressed against the mouse’s ass, and that the wolf was in a position that allowed himself to thrust into the rodent’s mouth, but he was so foggy with confusion and need and the general sensation of being turned into something sweet that he couldn’t really think through the whole situation. # Suformia smiled at his creation. It was certainly bigger than any of the other things that the competitors had been throwing together, but he could quite happily say that it was [i]better[/i] than the rest of them, as well. With all the different candy people, he had created a ‘dish’ that was worth serving to the public. He leaned back, forming his body into his own furniture as he looked it over. In the very center were the chocolate people, with those at the bottom being more of a living lake of chocolate, and those at the very top being more of a collection of ornaments and edible centerpieces. Several of them had been pushed into climax, and then held frozen, their seed flying through the air like ribbons in a moment frozen in time. Around them were the jelly-people, a rippling, wobbling frame of gelatin bodies that were in constant motion as they fucked each other with shifting, lengthening, twitching limbs. They moaned in their bubbling way, a feast for the ears as much as for the eyes. Forming the bedrock of the jelly-people frame were the gummies, more solid and thick, with a shimmering color to them that was more vibrant and tastier to the eye than the jelly above. They formed a scattering pile of treasure beneath the orgy above, drawing the eye along and keeping it from resting in any one place for too long. Finally, the candy-cane people. Their rigid bodies and crackling frames formed a circle along the outside, keeping anyone from getting in to eat the piece of art that he created, keeping the whole thing safe. Their harder bodies essentially made getting through to the more edible bits incredibly difficult, not to mention a bit dangerous. All in all, it was a good piece of work. And he had even put the people that were particular obnoxious in the most difficult spots. The ones that were at risk of being eaten were the ones that had been the most up themselves about being truly creative when they had been anything but, while those that had done particularly well… He looked up at the top of the chocolate pile, smiling at the fox up there. He was a centerpiece, alright, and while Suformia had no idea who he was, he hoped that the vulpine chef took this little lesson to mind and did better with himself from here on out. [i]The kid is better than this,[/i] he thought. [i]Just needs a good push.[/i] Smiling, the demon gathered up the rest of his goo. The convention hall would need a great deal of clean-up later. He had done quite a number on the different tables, on the walls, on the windows and doors. It looked like someone had transplanted the whole place into a kid’s show with all the sugary stuff that was on the walls, and there was every indication that they were standing in the middle of a gingerbread house rather than a convention dome. It would all fade eventually, of course. Outside of his own realms, his transformative powers were very hard to make permanent. However, they would regain their free will long before they got their bodies back, and he imagined that most of them would have quite a bit of explaining to do to their families. Suformia chuckled, getting back to his feet and making his way to the doors. He gathered his body together, forming the shape of a fox. Not quite like the one on top of the mountain of candy, but near enough. [i]Time to see what other mischief I can start,[/i] he thought to himself. [b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]