Chapter Text
When you imagine a person, you imagine a series of ideas that represent who they are. Crop-top, loves pottery, ditzy….You imagine that those ideas came from a set of beliefs, that lead to decisions, that lead to actions. You imagine that the sophont you’re talking to has a set of desires that motivated them to become the person they are now. But when someone imagines me, I’m no longer part of the equation.
I’m just the concept of a person, designed and controlled by Mistress to interact with the world. I’m just along for the ride. I’m helpless to do anything except watch. And I fucking hate love it.
Things were getting weird on hablis-9. The Affini had shown up on our corporate little moon six months ago, and already so much had changed. Not needing to worry about money was nice, and getting my HRT prescription finally covered was a fucking godsend. They even helped fix up my muscular condition as much as possible. But it was hard getting used to the giant shrubs. My gang of friends stuck to ourselves. We met in a welding course and pledged the college frat together back in the before times. They were mostly chill about my transition when it happened, I was still one of the crew, just with longer hair and a new name and pronouns. I couldn’t afford HRT back then anyway so I took what I could get in the respect department. They never told me to fuck off, so I never told them to fuck off, and we’re still buddies to this day.
I was on my way to meet up with them for beers when I first talked to one of the aliens. I guess I was in a hurry for my train, because I bumped right into it and took a bouquet of blue flowers to the face. I apologized and went on my way. They seemed nice enough, a bit creepy and uncanny but like I said, no work and free healthcare. I’d take it.
That was a good night, for the most part. One of the Affini, a thorny looking guy with a wooden face and full suite of plant matter gains tried to offer us shots of something. He was kinda pushy about it, said we’d really like it. We eventually got him to back off, and spent the rest of the night drinking our usual stouts and laughing about how strange everything was.
The first time I actually tried the stuff was when my usual bodega opened back up. The owner Sammy had gotten paired up pretty quickly, I guess she was pretty overwhelmed with the place. We weren’t really friends beyond customer service banter, but she didn’t know she was a she before, so I was happy for her. Always nice to see someone else find themselves, though I can’t help but feel slightly envious of the post-accord-transitioners for never having to face the same external troubles I did. Her owner seems super chill too, he lets her do all the stuff she used to enjoy with none of the stressful parts.
It’s cute how he helps her use the deli slicer if she’s too stoned. She convinced me to give xenodrugs a go in the end. I was standing in the line behind a violet colored shrub and Sammy saw me trying to understand the menu, called me up to the front and offered me a cup of her new dark roast.
“It’s so good Hazel, the old stuff was crap compared to this-Sorry Master!” I watched as her tangly green accomplice ruffled her hair and gave her a telling off for cussing.
“Are you sure I’ll be fine? You seem pretty out of it sometimes and I’m not looking to get messed up over lunchtime.” I was curious but like, baileys in my coffee at 12:30 wasn’t really my vibe.
“It’s fine, just a mild Class-A. Makes the caffeine a little more buzzy and a little less stomach growly.”
“Alright I trust you. Someone who makes cold cuts as good as you would never steer me wrong.” Okay. Maybe she steered me a little wrong. The coffee was exquisite, and the tingling sensation passing from my tongue all the way into my belly did feel nice, but by the time I fully realized where I was, I was halfway back to my hab.
It was a few months in when I started to notice myself really falling behind. It wasn’t that I was doing worse, it was that everyone else started doing a little better. I’ve always struggled with my muscular condition, even after the Affini worked their magic. Without a haustoric implant, they explained, it would never be fully cured. Even with an implant I’d still be fatigued constantly. But I’ve seen what happens to some of those florets. Glassy eyes, vacant minds, constantly suggesting that you “joinnn ussss”. It’s kinda terrifying. That left me with one option. Keep up appearances.
The months trickled by, and I kept showing up at the bar to hang out with my friends, even if my body wanted to stay home. Jake would give me a hard time sometimes, call me a zombie girl when the bags under my eyes were getting a little hard to conceal with makeup. Bren would always jump to my defence. He knew I was doing my best, and I was doing better post-accord. Will was always a bit shyer, deferring to whoever was dominating the conversation in any given moment.
The mess was starting to pile up in my hab. I started missing appointments and meetups so I could rest a little longer, or so I could drink a Class-A Coffee from Sammy and let the pain in my joints melt away for a little while. The writing was on the wall, but I didn’t really understand how inevitable things were until I met this Floret on my way home from a movie one night.
She was dressed in an elegant princess cut dress, rows of pink and black crinoline that matched her lace collar perfectly. She was sitting on a bench between two Affini, one of whom was clearly her doting owner. The floret called over to me.
“Ma’am! Would you like to sit for a moment?”
“Who? Me?”
She giggled with an infectious laugh, though her body remained incredibly still.
“Yes you honey! Come sit for a moment!”
“You can take my seat, I have to get going anyway.” The non-owner Affini let me know, as she moved her form off the bench. I reluctantly took the seat. I wasn’t in the habit of talking to strangers, but the confidence of this perfect looking girl had disarmed me.
“I’m Malibu Leami, Second Floret, and this is Owner!” She beamed up at the immense ruby bundle of floral foliage that was nestled into her side.
“Um. Hi Malibu. I’m Hazel. It’s nice to meet you, but I’ve got to be heading out soon. Did you want something?”
“No you don’t, silly! Nobody needs to go anywhere in a hurry anymore.” She barely moved. Barely a breath. Her face was neutral. But her words were so melodic and expressive, high and warm in tone. Tilted like a giggle was moments away, escaping her lips around every corner. I was getting a little creeped out by this girl, but her next words really sent me spiraling.
“I used to be just like you. That’s why I had to say hi. Baggy eyes. Slumped shoulders. Walking home alone. I was so tired, like all the time. I hurt all over. I was secretly suffering. I can notice that subtle limp from a mile away.”
“Hey, you don’t know me. I’m doing fine. I can take care of myself.” She could fuck right off with that shit. If she was trying to lure in a pinnate for whatever twisted games she was playing, I wasn’t interested.
“No Hazel, you misunderstand.” In a fluid motion she moved a hand and placed it on top of my own without even turning to look at me. “I’m not trying to scare you or entrap you. I’m trying to give you a heads up. If I can tell this about you from across the park as a silly floret…” her head turned to look me dead in the eyes.
“They already know everything about you.”
I pulled my hand back and started to shift away, but she kept staring at me with gorgeous unblinking pink irises and dilated pupils. “They’re probably planning a wellness check as we speak. That’s what happened to me. One day I was limping along, and the next thing I knew BAM! Owner was walking through the door! I love Owner.”
Freaking out. Officially freaking out.
“You only really have one more decision left Hazel. Do you want to wait for someone to pick you? Or do you want to go to a voluntary domestication centre and get your choice of the forest?”
I had no fucking response.
“Alright petal, play-times over I think.” The red and green creature picked up Malibu in a flurry of giggling and moans, vines exploring her body. Malibu shuddered in bliss and came to a complete stop in their arms, lying perfectly still as the Affini fondled her. “A pleasure to meet you Hazel” the xeno called out as they walked away, leaving me in the dust. I was so fucked.
The mess only got worse over the next two weeks as I fretted over her words. I wished it was all some fucked up game a floret was playing with her Owner. Taunt the independent or something. On some level maybe it was. But I also knew she was telling me the truth. What I’d witnessed was a moment of perverse kindness. She was giving me a decision instead of letting things continue on a natural course because from her perspective, both outcomes were good. It was an illusion of choice, but one that I needed to seriously consider. The absence of a decision would, itself, be a decision. What kind of person was I? The kind of person who sits around, waiting to be turned into a floret in her trash heap of a hab? Or the kind of person who struggles, who pushes through and takes an active role in things even if it means overexerting sometimes?
I began to walk towards the one fucking building in this city that I always avoided. Fucking damn it. I did this. I did this to myself. If I just took better care of myself or kept a lower profile, but the creepy hot doll girl was right. I was already being served up on a platter, at least this way I could have some autonomy in the decision. I bet whichever Affini had a wellness check queued up for me was going to feel foolish when they realized I was already owned.
I was walking so quickly I completely missed the azure streak of vines and flowers who I walked head first into. Stumbling backwards, I regained my footing and apologized. “Fuck, sorry. I’m just late for this thing and lost in my own thoughts I guess.”
“That’s okay, though I think you better work on your language if you’re going to be a floret soon!”
Right. I was outside a voluntary domestication centre. I was practically already a pet in the Affini’s eyes. This was going to take a long time to get used to. I felt a pit in my stomach getting chewed over the inevitable loss of my independence.
“Uh right, yeah. Sorry.”
“I’m sure you’ll have it under control in no time. Oh! You dropped this.” I was fixing a shoelace that had come loose when she reached down and handed me a slip of paper. Fuck, my form. I needed that. They were paperwork fiends, it wouldn’t be a good look to walk in without it.
“Thanks, anyways I’ve gotta get going. Bye.” I slipped through the door into the office.
The walls were lined with bookshelves of paperwork, and a central pathway was flanked by two rows of desks, each one backed by an Affini diligently working. I could see several doorways leading to interview rooms and back offices. There were florets peeking out from under a few of the desks, Terrans lounging in various states of intoxication and undress. Fuck. What the fuck was I doing. Maybe it’s not too late. What if they were never planning a wellness check in the first place?
“Oh Hazel you’ve made it! Come on over!” It was definitely too late. Miss Xarnelil was the Affini I’d spoken to on the overnet page when I set up my interviews. She was practically salivating with excitement when I pinged her, it was hard to imagine how anyone could maintain that level of excitement for every sophont who contacted them when voluntary florets-to-be were literally her day job.
“Hi Miss Xarnelil. You got my list of preferences, right? Easygoing? Still get some freedom? Not going to embarrass me in public?”
“I did petal, and I think we have a lovely option here today. She’s so excited to meet you. Remember little one, this is about your wellbeing and we want to find that perfect connection for you. Even if this isn’t ‘Owner at first sight’ I’m confident we’ll find the perfect Affini for you in seconds flat and you’ll leave here as the happiest little pet.”
“Oh and I have that form for you.” I handed over the crumpled piece of paper.
“Oh isn’t that just the sweetest. I’ll be sure to hold onto this.” She cooed over my form like I was a fucking kitten that learned to drive, and placed it in a folder of paperwork. The form barely fit, the folder was almost full. There was a lot in there, only room for one or two more pieces of paper. It was a little unnerving to imagine that folder containing the summary of my existence.
“Okay, this way.” I could feel a bundle of nerves mashing into that stomach pit from earlier. I might be moments away from meeting the person who would literally fucking own me. Fucking fuck. She let me into the room and set me in a tall chair, and that was when I saw her.
The cluster of flora sitting across from me was a generous cascade of bluebell petals, occasionally punctuated by sharp pink and purple flowers that I could only assume contained xenodrugs. I heard the door close, leaving me alone with her.
There was something about her that gave me goosebumps. It felt like Déjà Vu, like finally looking at something that was in the corner of your peripheral vision and realizing there was a monster standing next to your bed the whole time.
“Have I met you before?”
“Oh no Hazel. Not properly. But I’ve. met. you.”
What the fuck was that supposed to mean. Her intonation implied a far more intimate encounter than a picture and a profile on the overnet. A few friendly Affini to meet, approachable and noncommittal, recent arrivals. She didn’t match my expectations at all.
“Oh no.”
“Yes, Hazel. I’ve had my eyes on you for quite some time. But where are my manners! I know all about you, and you don’t even know my name. Sooli Rotalaia, Fourth Bloom, She/Her. But you’ll just call me Mistress.”
Could this be a setup? I felt a sensation exactly like that moment when you tip your chair too far back. I filled with panic, focusing on nothing except for my core sense of balance, almost certain I was about to fall spine first into an untimely demise. And then I landed back in my seat.
She was looking right at me, square in the face, with deep milky purple eyes. My mouth was parched. My eyes were sore. I stunk of fear-sweat and lillies. What the fuck is going on.
“You see Hazel, I’ve been watching you for a while now.” She chuckled at a joke that only she was privy to. It chilled me to the fucking bone. This was my life she was about to ruin. I tried to cut off her maniacal ramblings but I couldn’t find the words. She began to unwind her body to pull herself over the table head first towards me with a dozen sturdy vines.
“The problem with you is that you think you know what’s best for yourself, and you work so hard towards that goal. But you don’t. You never did. The truth is, I’ll be a much better Hazel than you ever were.” She arrived on the other side of the desk, her head never leaving my line of sight as she began to rebuild her body.
“But there is one thing you’re very good for. Struggling. So I’ll keep your body nice and safe, and I’ll make sure you’re happy and loved. And inside that beautiful foolish brain of yours you can keep on struggling. Keep on trying. Keep on pushing. Hoping that one day you’ll be able to escape. Because that struggle is all you’ve ever wanted.” She was encompassing me now, surrounding me on all sides. I felt a string of tiny pricks in the side of my neck.
“Until you’re ready to kiss that struggle goodbye for a life of blissful submission, it’s an essential part of your wellbeing. It’s who you are. It’s what you want. And now, at least we’ll both know it’ll never lead you to make those awful mistakes ever again. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”
I tried to say fuck you. I tried to leave. I tried to call out for help from Miss Xarnelil.
Instead, I smiled.
I looked up at her.
And I said the words “Yes Mistress!”