roym
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Posts: 231
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Post by roym on Apr 17, 2012 10:10:43 GMT -4
Well, that day sucked, Greg thought as he closed the front door with the intent to head to his rented room. He lost his scholarship on a bum deal (hell, his grades were fine and he couldn't understand the crap they were feeding him down at the university) and without the capacity to afford both an education and dorm housing, he and his aunt had searched like crazy for a cheaper way to live near the campus.
They found one.
The boarding house was actually about ten blocks away from the larger campus' 'border', an old Victorian style monstrosity of four floors and two or three plots worth of grounds. AC and heating were, for lack of a better term, portable and optional, but someone rigged up some otherwise decent wiring for electric and modem needs. But damn did it need a paint job on the outside and some new wallpaper on the inside. At least if necessary he would only waste an extra hour walking or riding a bike to class now.
Which is what happened just now, after boring classes and narrowly escaping a rainstorm, Gregg wandered by the mailbox slots across the foyer. No new mail. 8 slots for boarders total, with most of them bearing names. Something Italian that was smudged looked like it'd been there since the house was built, but Greg assumed it was a female name. There was a married couple sharing a slot (Mary and Marv deHaven), whom he'd met before (they tended to bicker but were otherwise saints to anyone else) some elder gentlemen by the name of H. Rodger, Greg thought he was a retired journalist of some sort, and some woman named O'connor. he hadn't met her but they shared a wall and he could hear her baritone voice on occaision. The others, he'd never met.
Well, there went the rain, Greg thought as a downpour erupted outside. With a sigh, he headed upstairs passing a window that let in a little moonlight before it was covered up again by the swirlign storm...
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Post by observer on Apr 17, 2012 15:11:03 GMT -4
As Greg walked up the stairs he began to feel strange. His clothes started to feel loose as he continued up the stairs, not noticing he was starting to shrink. Running his tongue over his teeth when they started to feel weird he thought they felt smaller. He knew something was wrong when his pace seemed to slow as his arms and legs started pulling into his loose clothes.
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roym
Frequent Guest
Posts: 231
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Post by roym on Apr 17, 2012 19:39:13 GMT -4
Gaps and looseness follow in Greg's teeth, confusing him even as his hair starts turning lighter and lighter shades of blond. When his hands disappear into his coat sleeves he finally starts panicking. There go his shoes, left on the second floor landing, and by the time he reaches number three, his floor, he barely has double digits to his age. A lean cyclist's build replaced by a scrawny twig's his clothes drape down to the floor and drag, making his furious attempt to get to his room the harder. Can he make it too the door as he grabs at keys that seem three times their original size...
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Post by observer on Apr 18, 2012 5:16:12 GMT -4
As he reached for the knob he found he needed to stand on his toes. After fumbling a bit he found the door knob out of reach and his legs too weak to easily stand on, but also foot steps inside heading for the door. The door opened as Greg's aunt stood there. "What are you doing out here Greg, and how did you get in those big boy clothes?" She asked, kneeling down to pick Greg up.
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roym
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Posts: 231
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Post by roym on Apr 18, 2012 8:03:28 GMT -4
Gregg looks up in shock. His aunt?? She lived three towns over; what was she doing here? "Wha you doin here?" he garbles, suddenly going through another spurt of growth loss and falling into his pants. Vertigo is overwhelming him, everything seems too large and his teeth are, mostly, missing...
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Post by observer on Apr 18, 2012 15:48:42 GMT -4
"Why I thought I'd visit my favorite wittle nephew and see how you're doing." She smiled, kissing Greg's head as she picked him up out of his clothes. "Where's your babysitter, and for that matter your diaper?" She asked, the only thing covering him being his oversized shirt as she coddled him.
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roym
Frequent Guest
Posts: 231
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Post by roym on Apr 18, 2012 16:15:46 GMT -4
Greg begins to try to talk, but the only thing that comes out is a gurgle. He's stopped shrinking and with it came a complete lack of mobility, the little guy can't be more than a year old. How though? he tries asking and even gesturing, but it does nothing but make him seem like a fussy little baby.
Eventually he can't stand ity and starts to cry out of frustration.
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Post by observer on Apr 19, 2012 5:10:23 GMT -4
"Oh is poor wittle Greg hungry?" His aunt asked as she walked into the room. "Well lets get you into a diapy first, just so you don't make a mess sweety." She said, rocking him a bit to try and calm him some.
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roym
Frequent Guest
Posts: 231
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Post by roym on Apr 19, 2012 9:08:17 GMT -4
No, I'm crying because I'm not supposed to be in diapers, Greg thinks, squirming about trying to escape the nightmare he's trapped in. His arms are the only things that come close to working right, but nothing's coming into view for him to grab.
"Bah fuh waaa" he asks trying to ask why she thinks he's a baby...
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Post by observer on Apr 19, 2012 12:43:51 GMT -4
"My your awfully fussy tonight. Must be because of the storm." She said, carrying him over to the table. Underneath it he could see a diaper bag he didn't remember being there when he left. She placed a soft blanket on the table and set Greg down on his back. "Maybe your binky will help you calm down." She said, reaching down to get the diaper bag.
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roym
Frequent Guest
Posts: 231
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Post by roym on Apr 19, 2012 12:48:06 GMT -4
His what?? Gregg doesn't recognize the blanket as the one he had as a kid... this one has a happy purple hippo on it. However once he's free he tries to get off his back and-- oops. It's harder now than it should be and the infant tries to sit up, move around, anything to try to get his bearings and explain his situation.
I'm not supposed to be a baby! he insists through his garbled gibberish, even going so far as wiping fresh tears from his eyes in a smearing motion.
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Post by observer on Apr 19, 2012 15:27:20 GMT -4
"Ah here we are." She said, lifting a blue pinky from the diaper bag. "Huh? What's wrong Gregy, got something in your eye?" She asked, placing the binky in Greg's mouth as she grabbed a wet wipe and began trying to wipe around his eyes.
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roym
Frequent Guest
Posts: 231
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Post by roym on Apr 19, 2012 16:37:02 GMT -4
He asks again and again why she can't understand him, until the pacifier is inserted,but eventually Greg acquiesces to the treatment... if only to think.
He'd been living in the building for about a week now, he recalls, met a few people had his aunt help move him in... and explored around a bit. But nothing was coming to mind; it's not like these things just happen...
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Post by observer on Apr 20, 2012 0:35:27 GMT -4
"That's better." His aunt said, grabbing a new wet wipe as she lifted his feet up. She began cleaning his bottom before reaching down and grabbing a diaper. She set it undereath him and grabbed some baby powder. "Almost done Greg." She smiled, folding the diaper over him and taping it. "Now lets get you your ba ba." She said, picking Greg back up.
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roym
Frequent Guest
Posts: 231
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Post by roym on Apr 20, 2012 0:38:19 GMT -4
Greg tries to explain he doesn't need a diaper, at length, but it just means to his aunt that he's being noisy still. If only there was something he could do, he wishes, to try to get her to understand that this shouldn't be happening...
Although all this effort is making him tired... and heavy for some reason.
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