#i've been trying to avoid using the taffy colors for the skin

[unprofessionaldoodler]

part 6 of the taffy series flavor: neapolitan

[scrubbinn]

Slime HRT: 12 months “Nice meeting you”

“Well hello there. I don’t know who’ll be listening to these recordings. That odd doctor perhaps? Well… Hello! I am Mayday Mulberry. I think. I don’t actually remember. It's a long story. Perhaps we should start at the beginning. I woke up one morning in a hospital bed with a nice doctor looking over me with a sorrowful face. There were a few people crying by my side, and some tried hugging me. I really didn’t like the feeling of being hugged, but I felt like they needed it. They gave me so many interesting items and told me they belonged to me. They practically shoved them into my hands, and each time they asked me to remember anything about it. I never did remember, all it did was make my head hurt and gave me an awful sense of guilt. I suppose a lot of people liked the person I used to be. But I'm not exactly sure how I can become this person again. I don't feel like Mayday, perhaps I shouldn't try to be. Perhaps I should avoid referring to myself as Mayday for the moment.”

“The doctor said I would need to make these recordings of my journey every month in order to continue my transition. I was told I was originally human, and slowly became a slime. I can’t say I really understand it, but every time I see myself in a mirror, I become so happy, yet so sad. I asked the people here to remove the mirror after a while. Seeing the human bits of me still clinging on like ragged clothing. It hurts in a way I don’t think I’ll ever understand. Becoming a slime is the only way to fix that pain. That is simply something I know for a fact. Maybe the previous me knew why, I truly wish I had the chance to ask her.”

“Forgive me, I'm a bit beside myself. I know I should be marking down the changes I've been experiencing, but it's not exactly easy to spot the changes of a body I don't know. All I've ever known is change. Am I going to notice when this heart isn't human anymore? Well, I guess it never was. It's not in a slime’s nature to reflect on the past. We simply drag ourselves forward, perpetually stuck in the simple present. Perhaps I'll start acting like that as time goes on. I think it would be rather nice not to worry so much about the past. Right, physical changes, that is what this recording is about, another thing slimes are not good at is focusing, haha… I was given some photos of mysel- Ms. Mulberry from a month ago. Most of this body's skin has been covered in goo since then. Some of the cloudy sections have cleared up, and muscle fibers are visible underneath. It would seem the skin underneath has dissolved or transformed to the slime biomass. The only parts not covered are the upper neck and face, with the chest area still clouded as I wait for the skin to fully disappear. I am able to poke through this layer and touch the muscles underneath. A thoroughly unpleasant experience that I do not wish to do again. My fingers and part of the hand now have a new layer of “skin” over the slime. This new layer is waxy and smooth. It bubbles up like bar soap and can be stretched like taffy. Though putting it back into place is, rather difficult. Perhaps I'll be able to control it one day, being able to stretch into all manner of shapes is a pleasant thought. The new layer is certainly living tissue, or the equivalent of such a thing for a slime, so moving it is within the realm of possibilities. I'm able to feel things through it, and with skin this smooth, almost every surface feels like silk, but changing the texture of my fingers is currently impossible. Perhaps one day, mimicking the textures of nearby objects will be possible as well, and with color changing, I would be able to camouflage anywhere I went. But sadly, it seems that is a mere pipe dream for now.”

I might have also done something rather, well, mostly… almost definitely… completely rash. Curiosity, another trait common among slimes, got the better of me and had me take a knife and whittle a small piece off the new skin. Just to see its composition of course!! But, well, it certainly hurt that's for sure. But, this is a brand new medication, and science stops for nothing, therefore it's in everyones’ best interests to gain as much knowledge as possible about it! So now, I have a small piece of waxy skin, and I'm currently waiting to deliver it to Dr. Erian tomorrow. It's only in hindsight that I realize, perhaps this hair would have been a better sample. Then again, I'd prefer to not think about this mess on my head any longer than I need to.

This hair can only be called a handful. Based on the journals I've read, it would seem I- er, Ms. Mulberry! Didn't see much of a point in proper hair care, nor chose to describe it in great detail either. Every morning I find myself spending half an hour reshaping the entire thing. Sleeping on a pillow seems to compress it to the point where it's completely flattened to one side. I've become a ball of clay, slapped down on a table. It moves like small strands of sand but removing it hurts just like plucking a human hair. I guess the best description of it would be something similar to soap shavings. It used to be much more gel-like but has hardened to solid bits, and unfortunately it most likely will not be controllable like the rest of me. There's no feeling to it besides the connection to the scalp. If anything I’m finding it more a pain than euphoric, but removal at this point wouldn't help all that much. At least it's better than shedding human hair everywhere.

“There have been, other, changes too. Less pleasant ones. I was told before I first woke up that I experienced debilitating headaches nearly everyday, even to the point of fading from consciousness. This fading, soon passed as my new core had fully formed. A stomach-like organ that sends its roots through this body in order to better control it. Organic matter is siphoned through it like a funnel, then spitting out new biomass to rebuild the body. However, the dreadful problem of these pulsating headaches has persisted. It would seem this problem will no longer dissipate on its own. Consultations with the doctor of this care facility or Dr. Erian has proved unhelpful in resolving this. Any pain medicine no longer works and has only caused more problems. It feels as though my perception is loosening nearly everyday. I wonder in fear and excitement what my mind will become in the coming months.

“Now then back to the physical changes. Let’s see here, Ah yes, let’s talk about-

“Hey, are you free right now?”

“Oh, hello Sweetie. I’m recording right now for the doctor. I’ll set it aside for now. Do you need something?”

“How are you feeling? Is… your memory back? I found some more pictures of us to see if it helps.”

“No, I still don’t remember anything, I apologize for not being able to recognize your face, but I’d rather not look at old photos, I can’t stand seeing those old faces. We'll just have to be patient and wait for these memories to come back. So please… Please just be patient.”

“I don't know how much longer I can wait. I basically watched you die. I, I... I miss you hun.”

“I'm sure she misses you too. Now then, I have a recording to finish. Goodbye...”

“...Resuming recording in 3, 2… Other changes, other changes... Ugh. My memory is completely shot now! Great, absolutely fantastic. Sigh, perhaps lunch is in order. Recording over for now. I’ll finish the rest later. Maybe. If I remember.”

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