“Come on, give me something to work with here. I could just say no and send you on your way if you’d prefer?” You took a sip as your guests finally started to loosen up.

“We don’t know how far along the pregnancy is.” Tall hoodie.

“This Instance Would Be The First Occurrence In History.” Leather.

“The governments are gonna be crawlin’ all over this, if it gets out.” Short hoodie.

You nodded along to the symphony of information, “Those are great, and we can get to all of those issues at some point, but I want to address the age one.” You put your drink down, turning to Caesar entirely, “I need to see it.”

Leather jumped from his seat, slamming both hands obnoxiously onto the glass of the table. Monster magic, dusty orange, wisped from the tall one’s eye. Shorty’s eye lights vanished entirely from their sockets. Caesar only looked shocked for a moment before moving to soothe his companions.

“HOW DARE YOU! THAT REQUEST IS BOTH INSENSITIVE AND OFFENSIVE!”

You rolled your eyes, standing from your chair as well, “I don’t care, I don’t have to help you. If you want to know your options, then I need to know them, and the only way to do that is to see the new soul!”

“YOU HAVE NO PROOF FOR THIS BARBARIC PRACTICE!”

“Then you can leave!” you smiled, gesturing to the door. Caesar stood abruptly, placing a hand on Leather’s chest.

“Lord, it’s fine, I’ll do it-”

“NONSENSE! THIS WITCH HAS NO RIGHT!”

“What do you mean by options?” Tall one asked.

You fixed him with a hard stare, “You have two, and it really depends on how old the new soul is. Look, I’m gonna keep this simple. I have none of the shit to help and if I have to waste my time with this than I’d rather only hunt for one option than two.”

“Thats…. reasonable. What are the options?” Shorty leaned forward, lights reigniting.

“Number one? DIY grow a womb. Real painful - gnarly stuff really - but it works, less dangerous for newer souls but more so for the carrier. Option two? A transfer-”

“How would that even work? You can’t even do that with human babies?” Caesar interrupted, finally looking you in the eye. You shot her a flat glare.

“Well, if someone didn’t interrupt me-”

“THE MERE IDEA IS AN IMPOSSIBILITY. CLEARLY YOU ARE ATTEMPTING TO PULL A VILE RUSE!”

Your face fell blank, letting silence claim the table once more, “As far as I'm aware, you came here for exactly that. Do either expect the unexpected or get the fuck out.”

“... How? How would that even work?” Caesar piped up.

Your grin fell sharp as you set your drink down. Standing, you popped the lid of your trunk. Inside sat a simple typewriter, a stack of weathered paper, a feathered writing quill, and a small ink pot that swirled gold.

“You know the rules of dealing with the fae, right?” You asked, caressing the typewriter gently before removing the paper.

“What-?”

“That doesn't really matter, you won't have to deal with that exactly, but it will be a very similar experience.” The group's small twitchy fidgets brought a bitter sense of excitement to your tongue.

“How would a transfer work?” Tall finally spoke.

“Easy! Well - for me, it involves lots of… things, let's say. But after following a very special process under very specific conditions, I would transfer the new soul to latch onto another. Preferably another parent, and someone with the actual ability to carry the little one to the rest of term.

“This would take a bit longer, as circumstances have to be right, but this would be best if the new soul is a bit more developed. The further along the little one is the less time there is to make a womb so… you get the gist.”

“THAT… HAS NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE.”

“That you know of,” you snorted, removing the ink pot and quill as well, “anything is possible here, don't you worry your little skull~.”

“WHY YOU LITTLE-”

Caesar jumped in, laying a hand on Lord’s, “Will you help us?”