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Description

A small group of old friends gather for the first time since the end of the world.  The vestiges of humanity were slowly rebuilding, and a reasonable facsimile of civilization was blooming in its wake.

“So you... survived out in Boston?” Christie’s friend Tyler was currently inquiring, his huge hands wrapped around his chicken sandwich nearly hid the thing. “Impressive. It’s really fucked there, I hear.”

“So what?” Christie’s friend Tamara presently challenges, poking at her friends distended midsection “You’re getting a gut.  You think you’re gonna have what it takes for this trip?” she snorts, shaking her head, “We need warriors, survivors, not.... pencil pushers.”

“Now now,” Jacob chimes in. He was absorbed in his phone, huddled over the table and his food and thumbs blurring. His brown eyes glowed from either the reflection of the screen or something more. From how fast his thumbs were moving, Christie imagined the latter.  “We need brave people as much as we need anything. Brave... or stupid. I don't care which.”

Christ finds herself grinning in spite of the barely disguised contempt.  Sure, she was staying at the Outpost, had a ‘cushy’ office job however she was the same girl who had fought for her life and lost everything to those damned machines that fell from the sky so many years ago.  She lifts her shirt and as sure as scented soap, she was sporting more than a little paunch, however it was tight and rounded not unlike a food baby.  “Does this look like belly fat to you?” she grunts lightly, frowning thoughtfully, “Some nights I toss and turn, I wake myself up every time I turn over on it.”

“Is it a baby?” Jacob asks, stopping his typing for a moment.

“No.” Christie answers.

“Is it some sort of battery?” Tyler chimes, arching an inquisitive brow.

What? Christie shakes her head.  “...Kinda but no.”

The attention she was getting made her self-conscious, and it was a little embarrassing. She pats her noticeable tum; it’s solid, with very little give. Truth be told, they were drawing the attention of the other restaurant patrons and that was fine, to be honest. Probably thought they were a group of dumb adventurers looking to get themselves killed trying to get to the next town over. Maybe, they were.

Christie wasn’t.

Taking a deep breath, she begins to talk in a breathy drawl, as she... focuses. “Been a couple years, you think I’m the same Christie? Yeah, and Tyler’s the same... uh.”

Tyler, whom used to be a skinny short guy with social anxiety and a neuro disease that rendered him hardly able to even make a tight fist, looks to her pointedly, awaiting the rest of that statement. He was currently a 6’3’’ slab of man with a beard to his chin and more hair on his chest and biceps than Christie had on her head.

Yeah the world had changed. And so had they. Meanwhile, if only they could SEE what she FELT. Right now, something like a breeze that was unseen and unfelt by her current company brushed over her skin, giving her goosebumps, as what felt like a lead weight built up in her stomach, like chugging syrup.

“Yeah,” Tyler finally finishes for her, leaning back in his seat and crossing one leg over the other. He was a deeply introverted, thoughtful man previously, and that intellect danced within the eyes of a man whose body now matched his mind in prowess. “People change. But what do you think you bring to the table for this? I’m...” he spreads his arms, indicating himself in his entirety as an example, “...this. And Tamara is an actual killing machine.”

Tamara smiles, revealing a mouthful of fangs, and her pupils turn to slits. Of course.

Now Christie REALLY had to turn it on. Seeing what her childhood friends were capable of suddenly gave her performance anxiety. A little more and... there! The sensation within her seemd to... pop.

It was like a match being struck, and what they saw was the flame. But it wasn't flame, it was...

“So unless you can teleport or something I suggest--”

Tyler stops in his tracks midsentence. At that point they would all become aware that Christie was very very green.

And before her, her belly swelled until it appeared in the middle stages of pregnancy, hanging heavy, the rounded form bloomed before her like a melon in fast motion. She even arches her back and spaces her feet to bear the weight of it on her hips.

“Uh?” Tamara’s mouth falls open.

“What the actual fuck” Jacob adds, creatively.

The people at the next table over speak in hushed voices. When Christie looks at them they’re all smiles. Curiosity and fascination.

“Warrior? No.” Christie begins, “Survivor? I don’t need to eat or sleep. Sunlight is fine. Water is awesome. Oh.” she rubs a hand over her belly, which was striped like the rind of a watermelon, “I store soma.”

Tyler low whistles. Even Tamara gives an appreciative “Ohhh.” however she also asks “But how do we get it out?” as her curiosity gets the better of her, leading her to reach out and touch that green orb which wasn’t as firm as a watermelon, more akin to a pregnant belly.

Christie chuckles, swatting the hand away, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The small group as well as several strangers laugh.

-----------------------------------

This took about an hour and a half and I spent more time editing it than typing it due to Microsoft Word bugs, distractions, and clarity. Still feel that it's a clumsy read lol but it was off the top of my head

I tried to give this image a cinematic lighting

Description

A small group of old friends gather for the first time since the end of the world.  The vestiges of humanity were slowly rebuilding, and a reasonable facsimile of civilization was blooming in its wake.

“So you... survived out in Boston?” Christie’s friend Tyler was currently inquiring, his huge hands wrapped around his chicken sandwich nearly hid the thing. “Impressive. It’s really fucked there, I hear.”

“So what?” Christie’s friend Tamara presently challenges, poking at her friends distended midsection “You’re getting a gut.  You think you’re gonna have what it takes for this trip?” she snorts, shaking her head, “We need warriors, survivors, not.... pencil pushers.”

“Now now,” Jacob chimes in. He was absorbed in his phone, huddled over the table and his food and thumbs blurring. His brown eyes glowed from either the reflection of the screen or something more. From how fast his thumbs were moving, Christie imagined the latter.  “We need brave people as much as we need anything. Brave... or stupid. I don't care which.”

Christ finds herself grinning in spite of the barely disguised contempt.  Sure, she was staying at the Outpost, had a ‘cushy’ office job however she was the same girl who had fought for her life and lost everything to those damned machines that fell from the sky so many years ago.  She lifts her shirt and as sure as scented soap, she was sporting more than a little paunch, however it was tight and rounded not unlike a food baby.  “Does this look like belly fat to you?” she grunts lightly, frowning thoughtfully, “Some nights I toss and turn, I wake myself up every time I turn over on it.”

“Is it a baby?” Jacob asks, stopping his typing for a moment.

“No.” Christie answers.

“Is it some sort of battery?” Tyler chimes, arching an inquisitive brow.

What? Christie shakes her head.  “...Kinda but no.”

The attention she was getting made her self-conscious, and it was a little embarrassing. She pats her noticeable tum; it’s solid, with very little give. Truth be told, they were drawing the attention of the other restaurant patrons and that was fine, to be honest. Probably thought they were a group of dumb adventurers looking to get themselves killed trying to get to the next town over. Maybe, they were.

Christie wasn’t.

Taking a deep breath, she begins to talk in a breathy drawl, as she... focuses. “Been a couple years, you think I’m the same Christie? Yeah, and Tyler’s the same... uh.”

Tyler, whom used to be a skinny short guy with social anxiety and a neuro disease that rendered him hardly able to even make a tight fist, looks to her pointedly, awaiting the rest of that statement. He was currently a 6’3’’ slab of man with a beard to his chin and more hair on his chest and biceps than Christie had on her head.

Yeah the world had changed. And so had they. Meanwhile, if only they could SEE what she FELT. Right now, something like a breeze that was unseen and unfelt by her current company brushed over her skin, giving her goosebumps, as what felt like a lead weight built up in her stomach, like chugging syrup.

“Yeah,” Tyler finally finishes for her, leaning back in his seat and crossing one leg over the other. He was a deeply introverted, thoughtful man previously, and that intellect danced within the eyes of a man whose body now matched his mind in prowess. “People change. But what do you think you bring to the table for this? I’m...” he spreads his arms, indicating himself in his entirety as an example, “...this. And Tamara is an actual killing machine.”

Tamara smiles, revealing a mouthful of fangs, and her pupils turn to slits. Of course.

Now Christie REALLY had to turn it on. Seeing what her childhood friends were capable of suddenly gave her performance anxiety. A little more and... there! The sensation within her seemd to... pop.

It was like a match being struck, and what they saw was the flame. But it wasn't flame, it was...

“So unless you can teleport or something I suggest--”

Tyler stops in his tracks midsentence. At that point they would all become aware that Christie was very very green.

And before her, her belly swelled until it appeared in the middle stages of pregnancy, hanging heavy, the rounded form bloomed before her like a melon in fast motion. She even arches her back and spaces her feet to bear the weight of it on her hips.

“Uh?” Tamara’s mouth falls open.

“What the actual fuck” Jacob adds, creatively.

The people at the next table over speak in hushed voices. When Christie looks at them they’re all smiles. Curiosity and fascination.

“Warrior? No.” Christie begins, “Survivor? I don’t need to eat or sleep. Sunlight is fine. Water is awesome. Oh.” she rubs a hand over her belly, which was striped like the rind of a watermelon, “I store soma.”

Tyler low whistles. Even Tamara gives an appreciative “Ohhh.” however she also asks “But how do we get it out?” as her curiosity gets the better of her, leading her to reach out and touch that green orb which wasn’t as firm as a watermelon, more akin to a pregnant belly.

Christie chuckles, swatting the hand away, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The small group as well as several strangers laugh.

-----------------------------------

This took about an hour and a half and I spent more time editing it than typing it due to Microsoft Word bugs, distractions, and clarity. Still feel that it's a clumsy read lol but it was off the top of my head

I tried to give this image a cinematic lighting