Like a Club {Hollow Knight Sly FtM TG TF}

It was just another normal, boring day in the small town. One small light shone bright within, from a rather humble, somewhat shanty-looking building. Within the building, one person was standing behind a counter, tapping their foot in a bored manner. They were a rather old looking woman, with greying hair, a deeply wrinkled face, and monochrome eyes. She sighed, grabbing a sign reading “Closed” from next to her and opening the door next to the counter. Sable had had a rather long, uneventful night, and her age was starting to make her close up her shop earlier and earlier. Before she could completely open the side-counter hatch, the jingling of the front door’s bell startled her to full consciousness.

Through the glass door waltzed in a strange sight; a large, vitiligo-afflicted man clad in white, and definitely a stranger. They had a very top-heavy stature, and the white clothing wasn’t the only odd piece of fashion on him; he had three sharp piercings in each ear, and wore an eye-patch over one of his eyes. He walked with an oddly perky spring in his step, as if he had just won the lottery and was planning to spend it all on this little shop of hers. She hastily put the “Closed” sign back before getting back into her standard position. Putting on an air of confidence, Sable smiled as widely as her old face could muster at the strange man.

“Hello, hello, hello! What would you like here?”

While she was re-opening her shelves, the man stepped up to the counter and hunched himself over it, not seeming to mind the old splinters. Sable was almost completely preoccupied, before she noticed the man slipping his hand behind the counter and under it, taking out a key. Her storeroom key! She knew that having a civil customer so late was too good to be true! Thinking quickly, she unholstered her custom switchblade and bounded towards the man, managing to pin it between two of his fingers and causing him to drop the key. Almost as quickly as she leapt, the man shoved his own, larger knife in her face, almost striking it. They had locked each other in a stalemate, and were staring each other down intently. After a tense silence, the man smirked, before speaking in an oddly youthful voice:

“Atta’ boy; of course it’d be you.”

Sable was taken aback in confusion; what did he mean? She unpinned her blade from her desk, and while staying battle ready, she angrily asked:

“What do you mean?! What do you want?!”

The man holstered his knife and stood back upright, before speaking again, chuckling slightly:

“Seriously, how many people do you know that are named “Sable?” And how many old people do you know that like to keep their mojo in their back pocket?”

Sable looked back at her switchblade, her hand shaking. She tried to speak again, but the man promptly interrupted her:

“You know Sherry?”

Sable hissed, yet nodded; how did he know? The man prattled on:

“Orwell?”

Sable nodded again.

“Matthias?”

Sable nodded one last time, rage blocking her throat, and her hand shaking violently.

“…Don’t you know how much they’ve changed?”

Sable’s face was red.

“Everybody changes, you crook, what do you want?!”

“Do you know how? Because they’ve changed in ways that no sane man could ever imagine; and don’t call me a crook, call me…”

The man paused for a second.

“…Walter.”

Sable growled coarsely under her breath, before lowering her blade-wielding hand. Whatever this “Walter” – more like “cryptic creep” - wanted, it definitely wasn’t the key. She must have zoned out a bit, because in a flash, the man vanished in what seemed like in instant. She looked back to where he was standing and saw a sack; she grabbed it warily, before opening it quickly. Inside were two strange items; a bunch of small, almost metallically-shiny rocks, and a strange, engraved pin. She left the rocks in the sack, but took out the pin to examine it; it was red and white, with many segments and three prongs on the top, along with being very miniscule. She looked down at the pin, and on a strange impulse, pinned it on her clothes. She didn’t know why she did that, but maybe she wanted to see if it did anything; after a few minutes of nothing, she sighed hoarsely before turning around. Before she left to her room, she snatched up the sack; its contents seemed very worthwhile, for some reason…

She quickly picked up the storeroom key, which had been laying on the counter from when she had almost stabbed “Walter.” She turned off the lights and unturned a rug that was on the ground behind her counter. Under it was a trap door to the storeroom, and her bedroom, which she had made to keep costs low for the shop. She slipped the key into the lock with a satisfying *click,* before making her way down and shutting the door behind her. She had noticed that as she was making her way down, she was starting to feel nauseous…. just her old age, she thought. She made her way to her bedroom and sat down on her bed, feeling sicker than ever, before having to resort to vomiting into the toilet. What was going on….?

Her body tensed up, and she hissed in pain as her skin tightened and condensed, starting to harden, and convert to a much sturdier substance. It started from the location she pinned the pin to, her chest, and she noticed that the pin was lowing a bright pinkish-orange. She snarled and almost vomited again as she felt the liquefaction and dissolving of her bones, which seemed to make her converted skin, her now-black carapace, grow tenser, harder, and stronger. The carapace-conversion expanded outward, around the rest of her old body. As it reached through her arms, a sloshing sound resounded through her ears as the bones liquefied more, before being dissolved into her skin to create and strengthen more carapace. Reaching her hands, her fingers fused into a single segment and got converted into the same shiny black carapace. As the carapace crept down, her gender was converted into the opposite, although this was only apparent on the inside; on the outside, it was covered by carapace. This inner conversion was painful to the point he went and vomited into the toilet again. He stood weakly as his legs were covered and converted into more of the sturdy carapace, leaving his feet as squared-off nubs. When it reached his neck, he croaked hoarsely as his vocal cords changed to fit this new body. As his head was converted, he crowed and screeched out in pain as much as he could. His face became a pale silver color, and became much rounder, the dissolving of bones allowing this new shape. His ears disappeared into his head, and his nose shrunk until it was just two nostrils. His eyes grew rapidly until they took up most of his head, jutting from the sides slightly, and were completely turned a jet-black color. His hair quickly fell out in many clumps, and two small antenna jutted from the top of his head.

He was left dizzy, confused, and very nauseous. Where- where was he? Where were Oro, Mato, and Sheo? Oro was supposed to come over for some extra training with his nail because of how clumsy he’s been; that clumsy oaf-

“You wield your nail-sword- nail… like a… club.”

Sly sputtered that out, before yelping in pain as two moderately-sized wings quickly jutted from his back. He winced from the cracking of his body, and whimpered in pain from feeling himself rapidly shrink. Before long, he was much too small for his clothes, and the pin clattered to the floor. She crawled out of those old clothes, before limping towards the pin and grabbing it; Nailmaster’s Glory. He winced again, aching all over. Sly looked around, before walking to the bedroom weakly. He clambered up the side of the bed, before promptly passing out.

The next morning came rather quickly, and he groaned as he crawled out of bed, still aching slightly from last night’s…. strange events. He looked around with his temporarily hazy vision, and saw a sack, which he walked over to pick up. Inside was a marvelous sight; over three-thousand Geo! He instantly perked up, his antenna perking straight upright. He placed the Geo in a safe place, before looking at the bottom of the bag to find a small, dark-blue cloak, perfect for his size. He put it on quickly, before looking at the trap-door; to him, Geo waited for him up there. He climbed up the steps and opened it, seeing how sunny it was outside. He closed the door behind him, before looking at his counter, which was too high for his small stature. He used his wings to give him a large jump boost, which landed him perfectly on the splintery wood of the counter. This place looked much different from his normal shop, but he didn’t care much, especially when the first customer walked in!

The customer paused for a second to give Sly a puzzled look; was he not a normal sight here? The customer walked up to the counter, still giving Sly a dirty eye, before asking in an almost condescending voice:

"Oh, I didn’t know Sable had hired a new assistant!”

Sable…? Assistant…? Sly brushed those off, along with the odd appearance of the customer, and tried to rationalize himself to the customer:

“Sable…. yes, she called me in; said she was sick and wanted me to fill in.”

At least that worked; the customer seems not to question Sly’s appearance. Sly did his best attempt at a smirk, before giving small talk:

“So, a good day to open up; now let’s talk Geo- money.”