[Fiction] An Unusual Commission

[Mithril]

from: mithril@futuro.br.op

to: jwcarver@nova-art.op

subject: A new project

08:15:32 (UTC-3) 13Jun2017

Dear Carver:

Hello from sunny Rio de Janeiro! This is Meghan Cutter, a.k.a. Mithril. I've got an art project that I hope you might be interested in. In fact, I think you're probably the only artist alive who could actually pull it off. I'd like to meet with you to discuss this in person, if that's possible. Is at your studio okay?

I promise that I'm not wasting your time.

Regards,

Meghan Cutter

[z-Carver]

to: jwcarver@nova-art.op

from: mithril@futuro.br.op

subject: RE: A new project

09:45:01 (UTC-3) 13Jun2017

Meghan (or should I call you Mithril?),

Hmm, you can definitely color me interested. And the flattery didn't hurt your request either. Ok, I can meet with you just about anytime in the next week. My schedule is fairly flexible right now.

Sincerely,

Carver

[Doctor Nova Madigan]

Nova "Flicker" Madigan (M.D.) laced her sneakers. She was seated at the edge of the sofa in the living room of the mansion in Rio de Janeiro which she shared with Neil Preston and Meghan "Mithril" Cutter. Cardboard boxes were piled everywhere and the walls were devoid of art; they were in the middle of packing for their move to Cleveland. Mithril sat on the floor, and idly stacked videogame components into a box while she waited for Nova to finish.

"So, have you decided what kind of look you're going for?" Nova asked, tugging the knot into her shoestring.

"Nope," Meghan replied. "I don't think that's how she works, anyway; Carver, I mean. I think she has this thing going where she looks deep into the material and detects what it wants to be, and helps that shape come to the surface."

"Okay, so what shape do you want to be?"

"No clue," Meghan said. "I mean, it would be cheating if I tried to guide the process, right?"

Nova arched her eyebrows contemplatively.

"I don't know, maybe," she said. "So you're just going to hope for the best then?"

"Pretty much," Meghan said cheerfully, jumping to her feet. "Ready to go?"

"Mmhmm," Nova hummed, standing up and taking Meghan's hand. A moment later, the couple stood on a cracked sidewalk in New York City's Greenwich Village in front of the building which matched Carver's address.

"Why is it artists never live in great neighborhoods?" Meghan mused out loud.

"I think it ruins their image," Nova joked. "Anyway, you know where to reach me. Call me with updates as you progress, okay? I want you to stay in touch so I know you're okay."

"Yes mom," Meghan said, rolling her eyes.

Impulsively, Nova took Meghan around the waist and pulled her close, and planted a passionate kiss on her metal lips.

"Ooo, incest, kinky," Meghan said around the corner of her mouth. She returned the kiss and squeezed Nova tightly. After a prolonged kiss, they separated. Nova looked Meghan over, head to toe.

"Whatcha doing?" Meghan asked.

"Getting one more look," Nova explained. "Next time I see you, you'll be totally different, you know. It's kind of sad and kind of exciting at the same time."

"True that," Meghan nodded. "I'll still be the same old me on the inside, okay? Chill. It'll be okay. No, it'll be awesome." Meghan smiled and put her finger on the door buzzer, but did not press it.

"You're always awesome," Nova smiled. "Okay, see you soon. Love you!"

"Love you too," Meghan replied. She pressed the buzzer. Inside, she could hear a worn-sounding buzzing noise. Meghan glanced over her shoulder, and noticed that Nova was gone.

"She's so abrupt," she mused.

[Mithril]

Meghan tried not to pace on the stoop of Carver's brownstone, but as the seconds turned into a minute, she found herself doing so. Double-checking the printed name next to the buzzer, she pressed it again, holding the button down while counting to three.

"I guess I should have called ahead," she mumbled.

[z-Carver]

Carver glanced upward, her eyes automatically tracking the sound of the buzzer. "Wonder who that could be?" she mumbled to herself, standing up from her desk and the checks that she had been signing. Her accountant was good, but Carver still wanted to go over all the expenses herself, just so that she had a good idea where her money was going. It was a recent situation; before she'd kept a loose eye on her account, but after a rough tax season, Carver found that she needed some professional help. And because it was her money, she was keeping an eye on things.

But whomever was visiting was a welcome distraction from the boring finances. Carver detoured from her path to the elevator to check the mirror, making sure that her hair was still up in the little clips that held her hair back in small sections that looped over and under each other. She thought it made her head look like an elaborate Christmas taffy twist, but Harry was very interested in removing the little clips one by one-

Enough. You've got a client waiting, Carver chided herself, turning away from her image. Heading to the elevator, she endured the loud, slow ride to the first floor. A short walk down the main hallway put her at the front door. Leaning forward, Carver peered out the peephole.

A silvery form filled her vision and Carver grinned. "I guess I finally get to meet the amazing Mithril," she murmured to herself, then tossed back the locks and opened the door. Who got closer to Mythic than I was comfortable with, Jael pointed out as the younger nova came into full view.

Water under the bridge, Carver replied firmly, even as she grinned broadly and said, "You have to be Mithril! Hi! I'm Carver; it's so nice to meet you."

Yes, you're right; that would be a good place to dump her body, Jael replied dryly.

Shut up! "Would you like to come up to my office? And we can talk about this unique project."

[Mithril]

"Hello hello," Meghan replied equally cheerfully. She was taken briefly by Carver's elaborate hairstyle, but recovered without showing any outward sign. "Good to meet you Carver, and yep, I'm Mithril-- but Meghan will do, too."

Meghan took a step inside the foyer and scanned the decor. It was representative of the era when the building was constructed: solid, not overly-well lit, but inviting nonetheless.

"Your office is good," Meghan said agreeably, following Carver's lead.

[z-Carver]

Back up the elevator they went, with Carver apologizing, "Sorry, it's hideous and noisy, I know. Management keeps saying they'll work on it, but something else always crops up."

The elevators ground to a stop, and Carver pushed open the old, manual doors without a sign of effort. The apartment before them had clearly once been more than one room, but the walls had been pulled out, opening up the area. The only structures left were some support pillars and what had once been part of the inner kitchen wall and was now a free-standing island with a sink. The remaining walls and surfaces had been painted white, giving a clean, almost sterile impression. The sun wasn't shining into the windows yet, but Mithril could see that the lighting would be fantastic when that happened.

Various statues were scattered around in various points of completion; Carver ignored them all as she moved to the only interior door. It was a bathroom, but Carver didn't need to use it for its basic function, for she pulled some folding chairs out of the room and set them up. "Have a seat, please," she said, smiling. "Would you like something to drink or eat? I don't have much, but it's yours, if you would like."

[Mithril]

Meghan was surprised at how open the studio was, and tried to admire each of the statues in progress, but could only spare a glance to each one as she followed Carver. Still, from the bits she could see, she was reassured that she'd definitely come to the right sculptor. Meghan accepted her folding chair and sat gracefully, crossing her ankles underneath the chair as she sat.

"No thank you," she said agreeably. "I don't eat or drink. I mean, I don't need to. Sometimes I do just to be polite, but I have to get rid of it later, so it'd be inconvenient today." Meghan wondered briefly if she would ever think of a less awkward way to say that. It certainly came up often enough that she should. "Anyway, I'd like to commission a statue of myself. I mean, made out of myself. I change shapes, as you probably know, so I'd like to just take the shape of a big featureless lump of metal and be the statue. I'm interested to see what you come up with."

[z-Carver]

The professional poise fell away for a moment as Carver's silver eyes stared unblinking at the other nova. "You want to... be..."

We get to cut her?! It feels like Christmas! Jael crowed, starting a mental bounce that made Carver wave her hand in annoyance, as if batting at a fly.

Shut. Up. Carver snarled, even as she struggled to not let Mithril see the internal argument. "Well, you were right - it is unique," Carver said. "But I have to ask... won't it hurt? You do know that my claws cause a lot of pain when the cut a person?"

There was a flicker in her eyes as Jael pushed forward, squeezing out, "But I'll still do it."

Carver slammed her back down, adding, "If you're sure it won't hurt you, that is."

[Mithril]

"You will?" Meghan blurted happily; then she regained her composure and returned to business. "I'm pretty sure it won't hurt," Meghan explained. "When I got my head blown off with an antitank rifle, it didn't hurt, and when Wakinyan carved a chunk out of my keister that didn't hurt either. So I think that means I'm just immune to pain. At least, I hope so."

"Anyway," she continued, "I've heard that you have a knack for looking deep inside your source material and discovering what it truly wants to be from the inside out. I hope that you can do that with me, too. I still look like I'm a Sophomore or something, but I'm practically an adult now. I'm growing up on the inside, but my outside doesn't match that anymore." Meghan frowned briefly. "I mean, cute is good. It paid the bills for a while, but I think I'm growing past that now."

[z-Carver]

"So you want me to... sculpt you as a grown-up?" Carver asked, trying to clarify her client's wishes. "Aren't you a shapeshifter - at least, that's what Mythic told me - so couldn't you just shape yourself?"

Shh! You'll jinx it! Jael hissed.

We're not cutting her for the fun of it, Carver snapped back.

But... she needs us to grow up - into a car accident victim!

Jael...!

Come on... it's our best chance to cut her face - and get away with it!

No!

I hate you.

Ditto.

[Mithril]

"That's true," Meghan replied, leaning forward in her chair.

"But my shape changes are not permanent." She glanced at her toeless feet. "I mean, with time and practice and persistence, I can make some small permanent changes, like my feet, but I'm looking for an all-over makeover. Besides which, you're an artist. Anything I come up with from my imagination will be derivative of what I've seen before. I'd probably accidentally turn into Slider or something." Meghan grinned in self-deprication. "But you can look deep into your subject and find the true inner essence, right? That's what I want. I don't want to just look like what I think I want. I want to look like who I really am on the inside."

[z-Carver]

Carver was floored for a moment. This was intense, even more intense than those times when a fan told her about how much she inspired her, or when a child thanked her for the classes she taught. This was even more startling, because someone was asking her to find who they were for them.

*Harry?*

*Yeah, hon?*

*I'm scared.* In quick flashes, she told him the situation. *What if I screw this up? What if I turn the 'Swiss Army Knife, only cuter' girl into the 'silvery twin for Brawlzilla' woman?*

*I know you can do this,* Harry said. *So does Mithril. She choose you because you can do this.*

*I know. I'm a good artist. This is just a lot.*

So if you cut her wrong, Jael pointed out, you just have to cut her more. And I'm sure that she can 'fix' herself if parts get removed. You'll just have to try again, later. And we get to cut her some more.

*You're enjoying this too much, dear,* Mythic said, but he was chuckling too.

Jael's grin could be heard in her voice as she replied, *You'd enjoy it, too, if you were here. Well, part of you would.*

"Alright," Carver said, blotting out the flirting Harry and Jael were getting into in the back of her mind. "How did you want to do this?"

[Mithril]

Meghan smiled with excitement, delighted that Carver had agreed to her plan.

"Well," she began, "I guess I'm ready to begin at any time. I'm at loose ends, myself, and I don't have to be anywhere in the near future. I don't sleep or get tired easily, so I could hold still for however long it takes you to finish with no problem at all. Still, I don't know how it is that you determine what your art will look like. Are there any questions I could answer or anything?"

Meghan paused a moment to consider payment. So far the subject hadn't been mentioned, which was the opposite of what she'd expected.

"By the way, I do expect to pay for this, you know," Meghan said in a straightforward way. She opened her phone and tapped a few keys, bringing up her online bank balance. Despite having no perceived need for material possessions, she had listened to Nova's advice and demanded a fee for appearing in the XWF. That fee, multiplied several times over by Nova's knack for investing, comprised the sum of her account. Meghan handed the phone to Carver. The dollar figure on the display contained a breathtaking number of zeros.

"Is this okay?" Meghan asked.

[z-Carver]

Carver shut her jaw with effort. She felt a bit dizzy. "Yeah, great," she said, her eyes glazing slightly. What was it with novas throwing money at her? Are you actually complaining about getting paid to do what you love? Jael asked.

No! It's just... excessive. Carver sighed to herself.

Then tell her no. It would probably be for the best, Jael added.

What? Why?

I was just joking earlier, about cutting her? But she's that rich and she touched Harry? She's getting a third eye, now. Say 'Hi' to enlightenment, bitch.

[Mithril]

Meghan peered at Carver in puzzlement as she closed her phone and put her hands into her lap. This was definitely not one of the reactions she had anticipated when she planned out this conversation.

"Is everything okay?" Meghan asked, tilting her head slightly to one side, concern evident in her expression.

[z-Carver]

"Yeah, I'm fine," Carver said, managing a smile. "Sorry, when I decided to be an artist at fourteen, I knew that I'd be poor for all of my life. Now, I'm in a situation where I'm not poor, where I get paid lots and lots of money to do what I love. Sometimes... I'm just caught off guard by it. Still.

"But seriously, I'm good to go, when you are," Carver added, smiling. That smile faded as she added, "I don't know how this will work; I've never worked on a living being before. We'll probably just have to play it by ear. And I can start at any time, too."

[Mithril]

Meghan nodded and smiled impishly.

"If it's too much, I can keep a little of it for myself," Meghan said agreeably, her mirthful grin nearly extending beyond the confines of her face. "I didn't mean to blow your street cred as a starving artist or anything!"

Meghan let the joke hang in the air, then returned her attention to the matter at hand.

"Okay," she said, "So how should we start? I mean, do you need to ask me any questions, or do you just have to stare into my soul and concentrate for a while, or should I jump up on an empty work platform and assume the position? Oh, you know I don't really need my mouth to talk, right? I guess we could talk about this while you work-- if that's okay, I mean. I don't know. Do you like to work in silence?"

[z-Carver]

"Just pay me whatever you think is appropriate," Carver said with a smile. "This project is interesting enough that I'm not going to sweat about the money."

She thought about Mithril's next question for a moment before saying, "Well, um... you can talk. I'm used to have noise around." From my statues. Talking to me. I'm not crazy. Really. "I'd say get comfortable, and we'll figure this out as we go."

Jael began to hum in the back of her mind, and Carver steeled herself for a long session.

[Mithril]

A bit uncertainly, Meghan rose from her chair and looked around the studio, trying to determine which of the unoccupied platforms was the one Carver had in mind. She didn't know enough about the process of scuplting or Carver's work habits to know where she should go.

"Okay," Meghan said, still standing in front of her folding chair, "I'm ready to start, I think. Where should I stand?"

[z-Carver]

"Um, erh... pick a platform. It should give me insight into your character, based on which one you pick," Carver told her, waving at the empty platforms.

Liar, Jael snorted.

No, Carver corrected. I said it 'should' give me insight, and it may. I'm not a psychologist, but we ate one once, remember?

Oh, yeah. Dr. Sakolove. He was yummy, Jael purred. That was fun. Aren't you glad you listened to me?

As I recall, you almost got us killed, Carver pointed out. Playing with your food instead of going for the kill. Jager had to pull our ass out of the fire.

He was still yummy in my tummy, Jael smiled, just like metal-girl will be.

Shut up! "We can even move something, if you want an occupied spot," Carver added, almost as an afterthought. "So... feel free to pick anything!"

[Mithril]

Meghan nodded once, seemingly impressed by the cleverness of Carver's instructions. Now we're getting somewhere, she thought. Meghan looked around the studio, and considered each platform in turn. One was too dusty, another seemed too tall and narrow for her liking, and a third one wobbled precariously when she tested her weight on it. Meghan frowned in concentration, perplexed and overly-worried that a poor choice could spoil the entire project.

Fortunately, the sun finally broke through the windows at that point, and one platform in particular was illuminated in a broad swath of sunlight. Meghan clapped once in delight and laughed.

"That one!" she said, deciding quickly. She hopped onto it and stood very still, her arms akimbo and her legs shoulder-width apart. With a thought, she briefly allowed her form to become malleable, and all traces of surface detail melted away. Meghan became a blank bipedal form, as if rolled from silvery clay.

"Okay, ready, I think," she said cheerfully, excited to finally be underway.

[z-Carver]

Carver grinned at Mithril's choice, amused by the girl's excitement. It's normal though, she reminded herself. She's getting an older body today; it's like becoming a woman. This is a big deal for her.

And I could screw it all up.

Carver shook her doubts off. Mithril believed in her; the least Carver could do was believe in herself. Closing her eyes, Carver began to wait, trying to feel what pieces needed to come off, or be changed. Normally, this was when she'd hear the voices, but today, they weren't coming.

With a sigh, Carver opened her eyes. Sometimes, touching the sculpture helped. But this wasn't just a statue, and Carver knew it was part of the problem. "Two things," Carver said softly. "First, can you not say anything, or move, until I say you can? And can I... touch you, more than we had previously agreed?" It wasn't sexual, and wasn't meant to be, but Carver was still fighting a blush.

Awkward.

[Mithril]

Meghan watched Carver close her eyes and concentrate. To her it was the most interesting thing in the world to see a nova artist at work. Her imagination ran over with ideas about how she might look when the process was complete. Meghan imagined herself slightly taller, with fuller proportions, and a more mature visage. Meghan halfway expected Carver to make the first cut with her eyes still closed, as if her hand were guided by some mystic artist's insight. Then Carver opened her eyes again, and Meghan was incredulous to see that Carver appeared to be harboring some doubt--she even blushed!

"If it helps you concentrate, absolutely I can keep quiet," Meghan said cooperatively. "Also, touching me is never a problem, I mean, I'd kind of figured it would be necessary." Meghan did her best to avoid sexual innuendo on this occasion.

[z-Carver]

"I just..." Carver's eyes were drifting closed as she reached out, her fingers starting to explore the surface of the metal girl, "need to see you... as metal."

Not a metal girl. Damnit.

*You want to objectify her? Make her into a thing?* Jael asked.

*Not the way you want to,* Carver answered.

*Allow me,* Willa said softly. She stepped forward, taking command of the body, shunting Jael far enough back that it was just Willa; even the sense of conglomeration faded until it just felt like the two women. It was rare for her to do this, to press herself forward so firmly, save when it was her night with Harry. Putting thoughts of him aside, Willa wished that she knew how that worked, how two could become three...

,,

Her thoughts about her dual/triple nature faded as she felt that spark, that little shimmer of knowledge that told her, cut here and leave this. Her claws appeared suddenly and soundlessly, popping into existance at the tip of her fingers.

With an almost inaudible hiss, Willa began to cut.

[Mithril]

Meghan felt the first cut and was immediately reminded of Wakinyan's obsidian-clawed touch. Like then, the sensation was at once painless and erotic. Meghan struggled to maintain her composure as Carver continued to shave razor-thin slices of her body away, working steadily with the elaborate patience of a skilled sculptor. As the afternoon hours passed and evening came, the blue-grey metallic shavings slowly accumulated on the pedestal and floor. Through it all, Meghan's arousal continued to increase inexorably. She had anticipated this, but not to this degree. She marveled at how alive she felt.

Carver paused a moment to reflect, and Meghan--reluctantly--used the interruption to calm herself. She'd agreed to be still, so writhing and moaning were out of the question. When Carver resumed, Meghan felt a new sensation, one she'd not felt since before she'd erupted.

She felt her consciousness fading. At first, it was imperceptible to her, as if the world were losing a bit of its color and sharpness. The harsh scraping sound of Carver's claws in her body became muted, and sounded far away. Meghan's vision began to fade at the edes, and panic welled up in her.

"Wait, stop!" Meghan said with sudden urgency. "Something's wrong."

The size of the pile of accumulated bits of her own body on the floor surprised her, and she realized that despite her perceived immortality and invulnerability, this project was in fact hurting her quite badly, and could possibly kill her.

"I think, I think I need to rest for a bit," Meghan continued quickly, explaining her outburst.

[z-Carver]

Willa blinked when Mithril spoke, as if waking from a dream. Glancing around, she slowly returned her gaze to her subject. It was a startling reminder of the nature of her subject - and what exactly the little silver slivers littering the floor were.

*I'm going to be sick.* Willa moaned silently. *It's... on my shoes.*

*I'm getting hungry. Wonder if those little slivers melt into sweet, sweet blood?*

*Shut up, Jael,* Carver sighed as the two women slid closer together, allowing the reformation of the amalgamation. "Meghan? Are you ok?" Carver was worried; the girl didn't look weak or pale; rather it was the tone in her voice when she had called for a stop.

[Mithril]

Despite making a strong effort, Meghan could not bring Carver into focus. Her head swam, and a muffled roar like static persisted in her hearing. Even so, she decided after a moment that the sensation was not getting any worse.

"I think I'm okay," Meghan replied. "At least, I'm not getting any worse. I feel pretty bad just now, though. I think all this cutting is--" she hesitated. She'd only just admitted to herself that it was possible for her to be hurt. To admit it to someone else could be imprudent. Meghan weighed her options briefly, then decided that since Carver held her life in her clawed hands, she had no choice but to trust her.

"I think it's hurting me," she continued. "I've never felt this before. It's new to me."

[z-Carver]

"Oh, well, yeah! We should rest," Carver said quickly. "In fact, I could use a break. Would food help?"

*So little tin girl has a heart, if you cut deep enough,* Jael noted.

*Can't you stop being stupid? And mean?* Willa snapped. Despite her vehemence, there was a note of weariness in her voice. She'd been focusing very hard for several hours, and she was tired.

Jael and Willa realized the shift in power at the same time. *It's a good thing I don't want to go to prison,* Jael remarked drily. *Because right now, I'm very tempted to see if she bleeds if you cut her deep enough.*

"We could order pizza," Carver said, forcing her tone to be polite. It was almost falsely so, but she was under internal pressure. "Or really anything you want, if you want to wait long enough for them to deliver."

[Mithril]

"I don't think pizza will help, but thank you," Meghan replied graciously. "I think I just need time to recover. I've never had this much removed from me before, or over such a long span of time." After a pause Meghan realized that Carver probably was quite hungry. "You could have a pizza, though!" she said quickly. "I mean, don't even worry for a second about eating in front of me or anything. I'm really okay with that."

As Meghan rested, she thought that she could feel ambient quantum energy slowly bleeding back into her body. It returned so imperceptibly slowly that she was hardly sure if it was real or her imagination.

[z-Carver]

"Ok, yeah, I could do with some food," Carver said, rubbing her eyes. It wasn't the carving that had drained her energy, but the internal conflict. Fighting with herself took engery from both halves, essentially creating a double-blindside. "Why don't you have a seat, and catch your breath, while I call somewhere?"

Carver waited until she was sure Meghan would be alright, then she ordered from two places: baked ziti from an Italian café down the street and Moo Goo Ga Pan from a Chinese shop outside of the Village. Both were the best at their respective cuisines, and both knew - and loved, or at least loved the patronage from - their nova customer. One of the dishes was for later; Carver had a feeling that this was going to take a while.

"So," she said, setting down her phone and turning to Mithril, "I've only just gotten started, but... you ok so far?" There wasn't much to go on, but the Carver could already see the rough shape forming on the silver girl.

[Mithril]

Meghan dismounted the pedestal and was surprised at how dizzy she'd become. Sensations such as these had been completely absent from her life since she'd erupted over a year earlier. She sank carefully into the folding chair and relaxed. At Carver's inquiry, she looked carefully at her arms and hands, and then at the rest of her body. To Meghan's inexperienced eye, no pattern was yet apparent in the sculpting.

"I'm okay so far, yep," she said, still looking at herself. "I'm not sure where you're going with this, but that's okay. I didn't expect to be able to see much until the end anyway."

Meghan thought for a moment, then continued. "I'm curious. You're working toward some end result, of course. Are you already aware of what that shape will be, or is it something that becomes apparent to you only as you go?"

[z-Carver]

Carver sank into her own folding chair. "It's... hard to describe," she admitted. "I can see what doesn't belong on what I'm looking at. But the next layer down? I don't know what to take off of it until I see that layer. And so on and on, until I know, this stays. This all stays. And then I know I'm done." She shrugged at her own helplessness to fully explain her ability. "It's all instinct and conjecture, no math, no logic."

She gave the silver woman a lopsided smile. "Not very reassuring, is it?"

[Mithril]

"Actually, it's very reassuring," Mithril said, animatedly. "I mean, what do math and logic have to do with inspiration and beauty?" She let the rhetorical question hang in the air for a moment. As she spoke, she could definitely feel that her condition was improving. The fog over her senses was lifting, and her thoughts came to her more quickly again.

"I think that once you've eaten, I may be ready for more," Meghan said cheerfully, crossing her arms behind her head. "I'm recovering pretty quickly now, it seems."

[z-Carver]

"Well, then," Carver said, nodding and smiling, "as soon as I'm done eating." The food was there shortly; the two women talked about small things as they waited and Carver ate. Finally, Carver sat her Chinese aside, storing the ziti in the fridge. "Now, I'm ready, if you are," she offered, leaning back and rubbing her belly happily. "When you are."

[Mithril]

Meghan stretched and stood. The ringing in her ears had subsided, and her vision had returned to normal. Despite how rotten she had felt earlier, no trace lingered.

"I guess I'm ready now," Meghan said cheerfully. "Whatever it was that happened, I'll be ready for it this time." She clambered onto the pedestal and resumed her previous position.

[z-Carver]

Carver nodded and stood up, resuming her own spot on the platform and picking up where she left off before Mithril's spell. Again, she had to close her eyes and concentrate, but after a few moments, the sense of 'girl' faded, to be replaced with a sense of art alone. With a calm smile, Willa started to cut again.

This pattern went on for a long time: work, rest and work again. Willa didn't mind; she was crafting her art, and she was not hungry, or tired. She missed the comfort of her Harry, but he knew what was happening, and he gave her the time to work on her art.

She could see it now; an older Meghan, peeking out of the silvery material. Willa had never met any of the women in Meghan's family, but she could see where it was going. She also knew that she was coming up on the point of no return, after which she couldn't make major changes anymore. On one of the breaks, Carver said, "If you want me to alter what you're forming into, now is the time to say so. If you want specific features done differently than they are becoming, I need to know now."

[Mithril]

"I wouldn't dream of telling you how to do what you do," Meghan replied candidly. "In fact, I'd much prefer to let you go on pursuing your vision, or whatever it's called."

Meghan looked at her arms and waggled her fingers--she had individual fingers again--and admired their form. "I think you're doing great. Still, if you're doing research, there are some old pics of me on the OpNet. I could give you the link."

Meghan had yet to look at her own face in a mirror. She'd planned to save that for last.

[z-Carver]

"Yeah, about that..." Carver looked briefly uncomfortable. "I've seen some old pictures of you, and... you didn't have details. On your," Carver drew a deep breath and fought through clear awkwardness, "genitals. How... detailed? Yeah, detailed - did you want me to get with them again? Or would you like to keep the Barbie look as default and kinda pick and choose what you want for... special occassions."

Carver was a little red, but she managed to keep her composure, for the most part.

[Mithril]

Meghan giggled. Without thinking, she recrossed her legs the other way, then leaned forward.

"I think that might be a good idea, yep," she said. "Otherwise it'd be really inconvenient to have to cover up all the time. So let's go with plain, and I can always add more when the occasion merits it."