Goth Pearl, with a little something extra

Consecutive waves pass through Pearl's body.

Color returns to flesh, but only a little, leaving her paler than before. Her eyes turn an icy blue. Her lips and nipples darken, and a curtain of raven-black hair cascades from her scalp.

Your tired manhood jerks at the glimpse of Pearl - as you know her - naked. But it's only a brief look.

Another wave travels through Pearl, and plain clothes spread over her body - socks, flats, a skirt, and a shirt, all plain.

The next wave fills out Pearl's skirt (you have never seen Pearl wear a skirt) into a simple, elegant black piece. Her socks darken to black and become translucent, stretching up her legs till the tops come to rest just above her knees, and just beneath the skirt hem - a pair of stockings.

Simultaneously, her white shirt darkens and shrinks - the neckline expands till the sleeves disappear, and it tightens around her substantial bosom, taking the form of a brief black bustier. Her sneakers, meanwhile, turn into clunky buckled boots, also black.

The last transforming wave adds a few inches of heel to the boots, and darkens Pearl's eyes and lips with dark, heavy makeup. A long-sleeve mesh shirt darkens her pale arms and torso overtop the bustier, and the ends of her hair sharpen to severe jagged points. Finally, a silver moon necklace drops against her bare throat, gleaming in the light of the lab.

"Hmm," says Pearl, pensively checking the can and dusting the tips of her black hair out of her eyes. "So that's Pearl Juice. It tastes like black licorice. And a hint of cinnamon." She runs her tongue over her dark lips. "I like this one."

Pearl doesn't look exactly right, she seems darker and more overtly feminine than before, but the second she opens her mouth, you breathe a sigh of relief. She's back. The rest, that's just details.

You step forward and pull her into a full-body hug. You were scared you'd never see her again.

Pearl rolls her eyes and passively accepts your embrace. "Oh joy. What did I do to deserve this?"

A part of you notes how much of Pearl's skin you can feel through her flimsy net shirt, but that doesn't matter.

Pearl, clears her throat, making it clear she prefers you'd let her go. "Chase."

You back off, self-conscious, but you struggle to keep the smile off your face even with Pearl's dour reaction. You can't believe you really turned her back - compared to before, anyway. She's practically good as new. "What, is there a rule against hugs now?" you ask, in good spirits.

Pearl fixes you with an arch look, hands on hips. She looks much paler than before, but Pearl was always a little pasty. A little sun and she'll be back to normal. "Not hugs specifically, but all other rules regarding physical contact remain in place," she says, her expression darkening. "You've been acting odd since Yutong and I showed you the Juicer Max. What's going on? Spill."

You feign ignorance. "What? Nothing's going on. Except for the Popple Quench eating a hole in my stomach."

Pearl is unamused. "Don't play dumb with me, my love. I can read you like a book."

Your world jolts to a halt. "What did you just call me?"

Pearl blinks. "... my love?"

You stare at her.

She frowns. "What else am I supposed to call you?"

"Chase usually works," you say, bewildered.

"Yes. Your name. Not exactly a term of endearment," says Pearl, becoming flustered. "You call me nicknames when we're alone. Why is it a problem when I do it?"

"I call you nicknames?" You can't think of any. You call Pearl Pearl. Or maybe, Loser, if she keeps getting killed on a boss fight.

"You're my Love, I'm your Rose," Pearl says, looking just about as confused as you.

You vividly recall pounding the fuck out of a bald chick named Rose who was most definitely not your best friend just 30 minutes ago, but there's no way in hell that... influenced...

Oh no.