#body mutation

     Oswald wasn't sure what happened to the Blot. It couldn't have just disappeared when he and Mickey shot fireworks at it like they had. No, it had to be somewhere. But where was somewhere? Was it going to come back and attack again? There really was no telling, and that upset the small King greatly. Maybe he should convince Mickey to come visit for a bit just in case...

     No, he wouldn't do that to his brother. He couldn't inconvenience him like that. The lucky rabbit sighed, shifting to lay upside down on his throne. Staring up at his ears, he noticed something strange on one of them. He brought it closer to his face. An eyebrow quirked at what he saw. A light dribble of ink ran down the long appendage. I'm dripping? Why am I dripping? The sound of liquid hitting the tiled floor of the throne room caught his attention, bringing his gaze toward the ground. Indeed, it was a drop of ink from his other ear. “What in the name of Walt...?”

     The toon frowned when he discovered that his lips were beginning to stick together, as were the other parts of his body. He felt puddles underneath wherever his skin touched the throne. Quickly he gets up and looks at the large chair, the thing covered with ink wherever he sat. Small puddles were left behind with every step as Oswald headed toward the closest mirror, gasping at what he saw. To anyone other than a toon, the rabbit would appear to be melting and sticking together wherever skin made contact with the rest of his body. A puddle was quickly forming under his feet as he stood, dumbstruck at his mutating form.

     He was brought back to focus as a sharp pain started in his eye, the rabbit yelping as his hands flew to cover the hurting eye, groaning as the pain didn't subside for a few minutes. Slowly, Oswald lowered his hands from his eye only to see that it had been replaced by a black, inky swirl. The king hardly had any time to react as his other eye began to hurt as well. Again he yelped, this time stumbling back a couple steps. What was happening to him?! As the other eye turned into a swirl as well, he felt the ink and paint inside of him somehow start to build, the small rabbit slowly growing larger, thunder clouds sounding outside.

     Oswald didn't notice his slip from control, from consciousness. Then again, folks in this sort of position never really do, do they?