Renamon
…treat you better than the previous two trips. Jared had come to doubt such promises. His current foray as a Pokémon mayor was fun and all, but the past trauma of being hunted and locked up in a cell still lingered strong in his mind as it would for as long as he lived. As long as I live. How long will that be? Am I still aging across these universes? Are some lifespans shorter than others? How does a week translate in one realm compared to the next? There was no way to find out other than living out a life of switching out species and universes week by week. That is, if I live a full life. That selkie place was mighty dangerous, and being a vaporeon wasn’t any cakewalk either.
So what did this new suit have in store for him? Jared sat on his sofa and struggled for a while with the box to find out. His fat feather-fingers had a hard time getting a grip on the cardboard flaps, just like with the letter. When they were finally pried inside he pulled it apart like trying to separate two sliding doors. Riiiiip! The box exploded apart, sending his elbows shooting out in both directions and having the suit plop to the floor between his feet amidst a rain of debris.
“Whoops.” The suit was a sharp yellow color, not quite blonde. Jared picked it up and let it unfold out straight. The fluffy white underbelly faced him with a terrific puff of chest floof jutting out at him. The legs were sleeved in white, the same color as the tail tip. The arms, however, were something else. There were what looked like separate pieces of clothing, purple sleeves that had been pulled onto the arms rather than being a part of them. They started at the wrists and ended mid-bicep where they opened into a sharp flare and had a yin-yang symbol etched into them. When he pulled at it, it did not slide up or down the arm; it remained stuck as if sewn into the skin. Jared narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Am I supposed to recognize this one? It rings a bell…
His eyes tracked further south. There on both thighs was another Yin-Yang pattern, only with both halves of the symbol separated and the same color purple as those sleeves on the arms. The cogs in Jared’s brain grinded and grinded. I’ve seen this. This is from something I saw as a kid. Another Pokemon? If it is, it isn’t one I recognize. Much like becoming a Lugia, he probably wasn’t going to figure out what it was until he had turned into it. Now the question was whether he was going to put it on. The Lugia suit will come back after a week. But what if it didn’t? Leland promised not to send me anywhere awful anymore. Because trusting a magical salesman who spies on him and hasn’t been seen in over a month could be trusted to his word. If I put this one, Lugia Jared will continue to exist and run things here, right? As if he’d come anywhere close to grasping the mechanics of these suits, their universes, and whatever nebulous ties kept them bound together.
Jared sighed. He loved this village and the Pokemon he shared it with, so he felt guilty wanting to go anywhere else. Curiosity egged him on like it always did with these suits; holding onto this one and never finding out what it was would nag him like crazy. And I don’t know what will happen if I just flat out refuse to put one on. I don’t know if Leland would take too kindly to that. An omnipotent magician isn’t the kind of guy I want to piss off. Having debated and finagled himself into a decision, Jared pulled the onesie’s zipper down.
Difficulties arose almost immediately with Jared’s awkward body shape. He’d never had such a thick and powerful tail before, so maneuvering into the suit at the same time as his leg proved a challenge and a half. There was no slot for the suit’s tail, meaning his own tail had to share space with his right leg, bulging the fabric close to tearing. He cringed to himself while pulling the suit up his body, bracing for a popping or tearing sound. Luckily for him, it stayed intact all the way up to when he slid his big wing-arms into the sleeves and had it all over his shoulders. The suit was on, albeit ready to explode around his ungainly Lugia body.
A grimace pulled at his lip. “Geez, Leland. You could’ve made it a size bigger.” The last obstacle was the zipper. The tab was way too tiny for his fat fingers. It took two, three, four attempts to get a good enough grip on it so that it wouldn’t slip free while pulling it up. Slowly but surely it made a buzzing trip up the onesie, closing it up in front of his torso all the way up to the collar. Once it was there, he flipped the hood up onto his head. Doing so he felt the faux ears flopping onto his shoulders. Oh yeah. I never looked at the hood. A quick trip to the hall mirror revealed his image. He looked cute, if a little strange, in that bright yellow get up. He saw the long, pointed ears that fell astride the hood. They resembled the tail, long and slender with white tips. They struck a recognizable contrast with the highlights of his eyes in a way he did not expect. He started to recognize what it was. “Wait a second…”
Shoomp!
The realization was cut off by the transformation kicking in. He jolted at the sudden implosion which brought the suit into his skin like shrinkwrap. “Ah!” He looked down at his arms in time to see the sleeves melt their way past the wrist and up onto the arms, bringing with them that trickle sensation like he was slowly dipping himself into a pool of water. Below was the ruder, more oppressive squeeze of his Lugia tail being shoved against his leg. That part of him hadn’t begun to melt away, and it began to worry him what it would feel like once it did.
His feet were consumed right afterwards. In the mirror he saw his Lugia face being swallowed by the omnidirectionally shrinking hood. It went over his eyes, nose, jaw, until the last of what resembled Jared the mayor had been consumed, replaced by another famous fictional creature. The pressure on his tail and leg began to soften as all the bone and sinew dissipated through the siphon of his shrinking onesie. What had been a tail quickly went numb. Its shape flattened against his leg, becoming a wobbly-formed mass of ill-defined flesh, then nothing but a normal leg with its white trimming and odd purple symbol.
“Ahhh…” The same process came down on his face, wiping away the liner around his eyes like a pair of makeup sponges were being dragged across them. Sensation sizzled to the surface of the hood with every cell and follicle that was replaced. Soon the yellow fur was what cringed and winced along with his reactions. It was stretched into a handsome slant, his eyes becoming daring slits and his nose an astute point. Beneath both eyes were a pair of sharply drawn purple brace symbols, resembling something like warpaint. Jared blinked. What blinked back at him possessed fiercely blue crystalline eyes which floated in scleras of absolute black.
The rest of him filled the suit in a series of rough cracks, pops, and spasms. His short Lugia legs were remapped into an athletic set of limbs whose core of muscle jumped at the surface with each minor movement. The bones of his hands met the crushing grip of a clamp as the four fingers were melded into two, index to middle, ring to pinkie. The tips hardened into sharp, short claw tips and became a paw; the rest of it softened within a quickly growing puff of white fur. The torso slimmed into an organ-bottling hourglass, slim and fit with abs so finely chiseled that glass could’ve broken off them. At the very end, the proverbial cherry on top, Jared felt the sensation flood his new tail down to the tip, becoming a dextrous limb which flicked and wagged in celebration.
At last, Jared was Renamon.
Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 10 December 2025
