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[b][u][center]A Shift of Reality[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]For ehh123[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

Infinite realities, infinite permutations, infinite possibilities.

Those were not the thoughts of Whisker when he got up that morning, moving through the flat and looking for something to eat, nor were they thoughts that he would have when he went to bed later that night in a bed not his own. But they were the thoughts that he had when he was changing.

He wasn’t quite sure when they began. It was somewhere between when he had cornered the mouse at the edge of the kitchen and after he had to let Peppy leave to go to work, but where, he wasn’t quite sure.

He was pretty sure that it had already started when he noticed that Wilber, their human, was no longer standing quite so straight by the window.

Whisker sat at the edge of the room, keeping watch for the pests of little bugs, balls of fluff, and the constant threat of yarn when he realized that he was thinking. As thinking was hardly something that was regular for a cat, he paused, thinking about thinking, and then thinking about thinking about thinking.

When he was done chasing his mind in a loop that would have left Peppy dizzy, the Abyssinian lowered himself to all fours, turning his head this way and that as he looked through the room.

[i]Have I always been this...small?[/i]

It was a strange thought to think. Ever before, the room had felt like it had been the proper size for everyone, but now that he looked at it with fresh eyes, with the ability to think behind it, it was so obviously not. Every piece of furniture, save for the cat condo in the other corner of the room, served no purpose for a feline. The couch was too big to be a bed, a chair, or anything else. The table was too slippery to walk on or spend time overseeing other people. The chairs reached nothing but the edge of a table that was likewise pointless.

And as he thought about these things, they changed.

He was vaguely aware of Peppy in another room, the kitchen - probably poking about and looking for something to eat - and of Wilber, standing by the balcony and staring out at the world. He saw his human, remembered him as a source of food, as a provider, as a tall, big thing that kept the yarn at bay some days and helped its advance on others.

And then, just as his perspective of the living room changed, so did his perspective of Wilber.

The human slouched back, and as he did, a hump went up along the back of his neck and the top of his back. His nose flattened slightly, pulling into his face, and his hands began to grow thick patches of hair, hair that ran up along his arms and towards his shoulders.

Wilber wasn’t the only one changing, either. Whiskers could feel himself growing, getting bigger, no longer a mere tiny piece of the room but one of those things that could use it. From a foot tall on his hind legs he grew to two, then three, his spine getting longer even as his legs began to change.

“This is...quite fascinating,” he muttered under his breath.

Peppy said something behind him, and he looked as he felt the changes continue. Even as his head began to grow, holding the thoughts that continued to rush faster and faster through his mind, he could see his Dalmatian compatriot going through different changes. She was not growing as fast as he was - and why should she, considering that she was bigger than him to start? - but she was going through different ones. Her face warped, her muzzle coming in slowly, her eyes becoming more expressive and less dull.

Soon, they were nearly the same size, and he was able to walk on his hind feet with the ease that a human would. He left the living room, stepping into the kitchen as he continued to rise. Passing the edge of the counter, and then bottom of the cupboards, Whiskers felt the world coming into a sharper focus. He understood things, knew them, felt how they worked in a way that he had only ever guessed at before.

A glance to the side at the old food bowls gave him his last view of them as they disappeared, replaced by plates that held, not dried pebbles of nutrients, but a platter of fish for him and a small steak for Peppy.

Something weighted him down. Not much, not in a heavy way, but in a way that he hadn’t felt before. He stopped, looking at his lower half.

No longer bare, the upper parts of his legs and his groin were covered in a pair of shorts. Seemingly, they had come from nowhere, but they felt right. He didn’t know why they were there - there was no need for modesty, after all, and the concept had yet to come into his brain - but the feeling of them was right, as if there was some inviolate rule that prevented him from going without clothing.

Just as quickly, his top was covered with a t-shirt, bare and blank, but he knew that he would have choices in the days ahead, choices of what he would do, choices of what he would wear, choices of what he would eat.

Choices. Choices. Choices.

It was nearly overwhelming, and he sat down, feeling the urge to get off his feet. Paws. Yes, they were still paws, though they were flat on the ground now rather than pushing him up on his tiptoes. Whiskers rubbed his new fingers as he pressed his hands to his face, feeling the ability to flex them, grip and grab with the new fingers and thumbs. They had new purpose, even as his whiskers no longer had their old one.

Would anything serve the same purpose, he wondered? He still had his tail, lengthened proportional to his new height, but with his new biology, would it work the same way? Did he need it for balance? Or was it merely decorative?

He didn’t know.

A glance over his shoulder showed that the transformation had affected his former human in a different way. Rather than rising into a new plane of existence, Wilber seemed to have shrunk away, losing feet of height and dropping to a more bestial stance. No longer able to stand up and having to support himself on his fingers, the former - yes, former, he knew that for truth - head of the household looked out at the city. Not philosophically, not in the way of someone deep in thought, but in the way of someone that had nothing better to do, and hadn’t thought of anything different in too long.

[i]He’s lost himself...or is he merely what he has pretended he wasn’t?[/i]

The question was more than he could answer.

He shook his head, trying to adjust to his new circumstances. Peppy sat down beside him, her skirt shuffling around her legs, her sleeveless shirt just big enough to cover everything new that she had up top. She reached for her steak and knives, as well as the cup of coffee beside her plate. Paws had become fingers and thumbs, the same as his had. She took a sip before turning to him.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s up?”

“I’m...still thinking about that.”

“Heh, you don’t do much without thinking it through, do you?”

“It’s my nature.”

And it was, he realized. Memories of things that had never happened, or had happened somewhere else - a somewhere else that was now here - filled his mind. He remembered moving here with Wilber, a charity case that he had taken on, and had Peppy join him as a roommate a couple of years ago. It was almost like what had happened when he and Wilber had moved into the apartment, adopting Peppy some time after...almost, but with such a distinction.

It would have been too much for someone that had always been intelligent, but the still-growing brain within the Abyssinian’s skull adapted to it, shaped itself to its new, most unique circumstances. Whiskers shook his head, looking back out the window.

It was too high up to see the world, but he could ‘remember’ what this one was like. There were people like them, animal people, ones that had been pets that he’d stared at from the window in the old world. They were the new people of this place. Not all of them had Wilbers in their houses. Some lived alone, some with the ape-like creatures, and some were even more different than they were.

He got up, walking to the balcony and looking into the distance. Whiskers spotted something, a hole in the sky, a place where the blue was just a hint of a shade different from their own sky, as if it was a few minutes ahead of them. And then it was gone, the entrance-exit to another place, another time, another possibility taken from them again.

Whiskers shook his head, looking down at the ape again. Wilber looked up at him, glassy eyes looking like they were just about to ask a question, but were unable to put words to what the question was.

Maybe he knew what had happened, too. Maybe not. Whiskers couldn’t figure that one out, but he knew one thing. Wilber had always had the chance to be better as a human. He had always had the option of improving himself, of being better than he was. Now, he was stuck. He could never change. He could never be better than a dumb, dependent ape, forced to rely on the kindness of others.

It was not a truly drastic change, in the way that he had lived, but the theft of that choice to change…

“I’m sorry, Wilber.”

He patted the ape on the back, sighing as he looked out at the new world.

“I’m sorry.”

“Look, I gotta get to work. Can we talk about this after? You look like you’ve got something too big for a coffee break on your mind,” Peppy said.

“Yes, yes, we’ll talk.”

He left the balcony, helping her get her stuff - stuff he had never seen, but had seen every day for years - and then get her out the door. The cat shut it behind her, and then wandered back to the living room once more. Even the furniture had changed, with the chairs having little holes for tails and the floor covered in carpet to protect it from claws.

Now, everything had purpose for them, and no purpose for the apes. He didn’t know what to think about that.

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]