Object TF commission for  RadioRaveRiot!

An eevee-themed carousel is missing a sylveon, and Nystre proves to be the perfect replacement...

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Nystre’s Carousel Ride
By: Indi

It was late enough to actually be early. A full moon and bright stars shone in the cloudless sky, providing a faint amount of light along with the usual glow of the nearby city. For nearly an hour Nystre had watched the closed Pokemon Carnival, searching for guards or any sign of life in general. There’d been none, just silence. A surprise, but one the curious jamcat was thankful for.

Finally convinced the coast was clear, Nystre snuck through an unlocked gate, it’s bulbous tail barely squeezing through. From the flashlight in its paw a beam of light came, illuminating the path ahead.

Nystre had visited the carnival during the day--it’d actually spent nearly the entire day there—but it was a whole different experience at night. No crowds. No music. Little light. The atmosphere wasn’t creepy or unsettling. It was actually rather pleasant. Now Nystre could take as much time as it wanted wandering around.

Nystre didn’t have any plan in mind for its sneaky adventure, simply wandering on a whim. Yet as the jamcat explored it found itself inexplicably drawn towards certain attractions, ones it either hadn’t noticed or paid much attention to during the day. Maybe the crowds had just pushed it passed them, or they looked different in the dark. Whatever the reason it felt the need to get a closer look.

The first was a carnival game stall. Nothing was special about the game itself, but the prizes were all substitute dolls of various sizes. They lined the back wall and the posts, hung from the ceiling and crowded the floor. All cute and soft and happy looking, all smiling at Nystre. An overwhelming sense of comfiness radiated from them, but the hooting of a distant owl shook Nystre away from its obsession, and it wandered away.

A few minutes later Nystre passed by the bumper cars. Every car was shaped like a porygon—along with a couple that were clearly dittos in the guise of porygons in the guise of bumper cars. Nystre’s sizable tail had prevented it from indulging in the ride, unfortunately. It started imagining what it’d be like, bumping around, body sloshing and clanging with each impact. The sparks of electricity as it was driven around.

Nystre shook itself free of the odd train of thought, and decided not to linger near the bumper cars any longer.

Past the balloon stall and the miniature train ride, and the coaster where every car was shaped like a long serpentine pokemon. So many strange daydreams and feelings.

Eventually Nystre found itself facing a massive carousel. It was rather ornate, covered in lights, mirrors, and golden trim. All of its seats were shaped like eevee and its many evolutions, as were paintings along the edge and various signage. It’d been the ride Nystre was most interested in, and of course during the day it was closed for some reason. At least now it’d be able to get a closer look, maybe even take some pictures.

Nystre climbed the steps, becoming more and more impressed by the carousel as it got closer. The wooden floor was nicely waxed, scuffed here and there due to use and age but kept in generally good condition. The golden poles holding the seats up were as reflective as the mirrors along the inner core of the carousel, and Nystre grinned as it saw its distorted reflection in them.

“Too bad I can’t see it all lit up and in action,” Nystre mourned aloud.

Before it could take another step every light of the carousel suddenly turned on. Nystre was startled, its body sloshing as it jumped in surprise. It expected a hoard of security guards to converge on the carousel in seconds, for spotlights to shine down on it as it was declared an intruder to be hauled off. Of course no such thing happened. Gradually Nystre accepted the fact it was still alone in the carnival. The lights must’ve been motion-activated, turning on after a delay once Nystre had gotten onto the carousel. They probably wouldn’t be enough to draw any unwanted attention at least.

Calming down, Nystre continued its tour of admiration. It slowly walked around the carousel, examining each seat with care. They were all carved from wood, and of the finest quality. No visible knicks. The paint was bright and unmarked, as if a fresh coat had been applied recently. And the poses were so dynamic and expressive too!

Eevees that still managed to look fluffy despite being wooden. Vaporeons that looked like they were gliding through water. Flareons poised to spew flames. Jolteons darting like rigid lightning bolts. Espeons and Umbreons glaring at each other as if in a graceful chase. Leafeons with every angle of their leafy ears and tail carved to perfection. Glaceons that looked like they could bring about a blizzard at any second.

With so much to look at it was no wonder Nystre didn’t notice something very strange was happening to itself. Every time it passed one of the center mirrors the color of its hide would fade noticeably, as if being drained away. Its ears, tail, and paws were fading less, but were still affected.

At the time all Nystre cared about was finding a seat shaped like a sylveon. It’d seen multiples of every other eevee evolution, yet somehow its favorite was nowhere to be found. “This doesn’t make sense—there’s gotta be at least one sylveon!”

Speakers crackled and organ music poured through them, scaring the jamcat once again. Its body barely sloshed at all that time, as if the jam within had solidified. More short-lived panic that was soon replaced by the self-assurance that no one was coming to apprehend it, or even playing a prank. Just automated systems, clearly. It helped that the song was a soothing one. Nystre even began to hum along to it after a while.

Complacency wasn’t good for Nystre, though.

Its body was pale, nearly white, with only hints of purple and blue. The parts that’d faded less had taken on a pink tone. Its tail had shrunken by a third, looking more like a tube than a bulb. On its neck and ear small bows were starting to grow. Had it just looked at the mirrors it would’ve noticed immediately something was happening, but the desire to find sylveon diverted its gaze and delayed recognition.

Nystre continued onwards, almost in a daze, mumbling under its breath about sylveons, how it needed to find one, how there needed to be one. It was becoming a mantra. Without sylveon the carousel was incomplete.

Eventually it came upon a gap where a seat should’ve been but wasn’t. Empty sockets in the floor and ceiling were just asking for a pole to be fitted in. For some reason Nystre was absolutely convinced a sylveon should be there. And the sooner one appeared the better.

Without warning the carousel lurched to life. Unlike the previous two incidents Nystre wasn’t startled, but the movement still caused it to stumble. Its tail was still shrinking steadily, but now its paws and thighs had begun to change as well, slimming slightly as Nystre lost its curves. From the bows ribbons were beginning to grow.

The carousel didn’t feel like it was moving fast, but when Nystre looked outward the world was racing by. Leaving would’ve been dangerous. As long as it stayed on the carousel it would be safe.

Nystre meant to look straight ahead at the eevee in front of it, but it was feeling so wobbly it accidentally stepped back and looked towards the middle instead, and the mirrors. It stared, eyes locked onto its transformed visage in confusion. The bulk of its body had turned solid white, like snow. Its paws, ears, and tail were pink. Yellow eyes had turned a solid baby blue. Even with its thoughts somewhat scattered, Nystre knew it now vaguely resembled a sylveon, mainly in color.

At first it hoped it was an illusion, just a funhouse trick of some kind. But as it reached for the ribbon slowly growing from its neck it found itself able to grasp it, able to feel it. Nystre was transforming.

“M-Maybe the carousel’s not good.” Nystre had to force the words out. A not-insignificant part of its mind was insisting the transformation was good—no, necessary! But those thoughts still worried Nystre, still felt like an outside influence and not its own self.

The steadily transforming jamcat took a step forwards. Its whole body felt stiff, and each step took a monumental amount of effort. Nystre was also jiggling less and less, the faint wobbles of its body ceasing completely. Its tail was getting smaller and lighter, completely disrupting its old sense of balance. Even its paws felt different, its weight not settling the same way.

Its right paw started feeling numb, and it lost its grip on the flashlight. Nervous, Nystre dared a look at the paw. It was so small and dainty, a quarter of its original size. The curves had become almost angular. Light shone off its surface in a whole different way. Nystre swore it resembled the painted wood of the other seats on the ride. It didn’t want to think about that.

A torrent of questions and worries were flooding into Nystre’s mind, too much for it to process. It wasn’t shaking away fears, just replacing them with newer, more outlandish ones. Worse yet, some of those fears were starting to feel like perks. What would be so bad about never leaving the carousel? Having a sloshy body was noisy. Who cares if the transformation’s permanent?

The carousel was becoming Nystre’s whole world, and not because it was exclusively focusing on the ordeal at hand. It was because it was unknowingly having trouble remembering much else. Memories silently shed bit-by-bit.

More of its curves were growing rougher—the imitation of round rather than truly round. Movement became harder, as if it were an unnatural part of Nystre’s very being. Its now tiny tail stiffened up, just another well-crafted decoration now. Its rigid ears barely even twitched. But sometimes they’d creak. And then there was the strange, faint clopping sound that seemed to accompany its meandering. Curious and comforting all at once, it didn’t even consider it was coming from its own paws as they stepped on the wooden carousel floor.

After what seemed like an eternity, Nystre discovered it was directly above the socket for the missing carousel seat. Either it’d only moved a couple steps or just stumbled about in a circle the whole time. Both were plausible to the jamcat, who was ready for the confusion to end.

Suddenly, being upright didn’t seem...right. Nystre sluggishly fell down to the wooden floor, ending up on all fours. There wasn’t a jiggle, a slosh, or a soft smack on impact. It was a more solid clunk, wood-on-wood. A sigh of relief as it realized what the once-odd, now familiar noise from earlier had been. Back straightened and paws shifted, making it impossible for Nystre to stand back up on its own power again. Not that it entirely wanted to.

There was an overpowering comfort in being there, one strong enough to push away the weak urge to at least crawl away. Out of the corner of its eye Nystre saw its new ribbons growing to full length, tipped with pink and blue. The longer it stared the more natural they looked.

From Nystre’s chest and back a pole slowly grew, shiny and gold. There was no pain involved, and it looked like a normal extension of its body, one it’d been lacking without realizing it. There were so many things Nystre was learning it’d lacked, and once it’d gained them it forget there’d been a time they’d never been there.

The pole fit perfectly into the empty socket in the floor below, and then Nystre was lifting upward. Pockets of old thought lingered, causing it to wiggle a bit as it rose, paws treading as if it were in water. One-by-one its legs froze in place, curves carved away as the last of the feline features vanished for good. When they were all numb and in position, it looked like it was frolicking, not flailing.

Its mouth had closed, gently twisting into a small painted smile and refusing to open again. But that was alright. Visitors didn’t want to chat, they wanted to ride. Besides, none of them would’ve been able to understand a simple sylveon.

Oh, but on the carousel it was far more than just that! It was a centerpiece, the one and only sylveon on the entire ride. The others were all pretty in their own ways, but they had copies and variations. To end up on the sylveon seat was to be special! It’d get extra attention. Photographers would all wait until it came around to take their pictures, catching it in the moment of imitated playful run.

Tiny, bitter whispers tried to tell it that wasn’t right, that it belonged elsewhere, but they were ignored. It didn’t want its moment of well-earned triumph ruined.

Behind the pole a smooth, wooden saddle grew, forming a comfortable seat for future riders. It was painted pink and blue to match the sylveon’s usual colors, with a few golden accents to make it shine extra bright. Exquisite craftsmanship. It was a solid, one-of-a-kind piece, just life-like enough that visitors might think it was real until they knocked on the wooden body and heard the nice loud thunk.

The rest of the pole finally slotted into the ceiling of the carousel, and suddenly the sylveon was moving up and down it just like every other seat on the ride. A sensible feature of it, blending in seamlessly with all the rest while still standing out as the sole sylveon. On the paintings of eevee evolutions lining the top edge of the carousel a sylveon snuck its way into the mix, as if it’d always been there. But of course it had always been there, and any visitors questioning it would find their doubts fade swiftly as they realized their mistake.

The outside world ceased to spin, and slowly the carousel came to a stop. The music quieted. The lights blinked off. On the ground outside an abandoned flashlight rolled to a stop, it’s beam pointed at the brand new sylveon seat like a spotlight.