The Titillating Tour

“…Never mind.”

Jocelyn drooped for half a second, visibly disappointed, before snapping back into her usual grin and turning toward the group.

“Now that we’re done with all that faff,” she declared brightly, spreading her arms wide, “who’s ready for a tour?”

Jason snapped his head up. He’d been lost in his thoughts again—something he was rapidly realizing was becoming a bad habit. The wheel he’d been standing near was gone now, vanished without a trace, and he found himself facing the group of women who were apparently meant to be his harem.

Sylvie shot her hand into the air with barely contained enthusiasm—then froze. She glanced around, realizing no one else had reacted at all, and slowly lowered it again, cheeks flushing red.

Babs just shrugged, far more interested in sneaking looks at April, who was sitting at the far end, absently playing with her new ears, fingers brushing over the soft black fur like she was still half-convinced they weren't real.

Cassandra stood with her chin lifted high, arms crossed, irritation practically radiating off her as she stewed over her transformation—or lack thereof.

Mika, much like April, was completely distracted—her tail swayed gently behind her as she stared at it with open fascination, barely registering the room around her.

Esme sat silently, eyes fixed on Jocelyn. She’d found a new way to cross her arms that looked far more comfortable than before—though Jason couldn’t help noticing how much it emphasized her already impressive cleavage.

“Well, don’t get too excited,” Jocelyn snarked, tapping her cane sharply against the floor.

Light flooded the space all at once.

Everyone squinted, instinctively shielding their eyes as the brightness swallowed the stage entirely.

When their vision cleared, they were no longer seated.

They stood in a wide, elegant lobby, polished floors gleaming beneath their feet. The girls looked around in awe, taking in the towering ceiling, the sweeping staircases, the plush furniture. A few eyes lingered on the massive front doors—but no one commented.

“Welcome to the hotel, ladies and gentleman!” Jocelyn announced proudly. “This is where you’ll be staying for the next fifty days.”

She gestured grandly.

“So, without further ado—let the tour begin!”

She floated toward the help desk, where a small figure stood neatly behind it.

“And first things first—this is Lyn,” Jocelyn said, smiling fondly. “She manages the help desk. You can ask her anything you need to know, and she’ll help you out.”

Lyn waved.

The resemblance to Jocelyn was… unmistakable. The same blue skin, the same deep-blue hair, the same red coat worn over a black dress—even the same top hat perched atop her head. On someone so much smaller than Jocelyn, it looked comically oversized, threatening to slip down over her eyes at any moment. The only notable difference was the absence of Jocelyn’s signature blue feathers, leaving Lyn looking like a pint-sized, simplified reflection of the host herself.

“She looks exactly like you?” Esme asked accusatorially.

“Oh I know,” Jocelyn said before anyone else could comment. “Isn’t she just adorable?”

“So I can ask her anything?” Cassandra asked, arching a brow.

“Yes!” Jocelyn chirped. “And she’ll answer accordingly!”

Cassandra leaned forward slightly. “Then tell me, little Lyn—what is the key to my victory?”

“Him!” Lyn announced instantly, pointing excitedly at Jason.

Jason chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck as all eyes snapped to him again. He’d been so quiet, he suspected some of them had forgotten he was even there.

“Aww yesh, he ish,” Jocelyn cooed, attention turning back to her as she began pinching Lyn’s cheek. “God, isn’t she just the best, folks?”

…

She straightened and clapped once.

“And in addition to her vast knowledge, Lyn can also help you get around the hotel. Just tell her where you want to go, and she’ll guide you right there.”

Jocelyn smiled. “For example—Lyn, my dear, take our guests on a tour of the hotel.”

Lyn snapped to attention and saluted Jocelyn smartly, then hopped up from behind the desk and floated down to hover in front of the group.

“Follow!” she commanded cheerfully.

Jocelyn drifted toward the back, ushering everyone along as Lyn began making headway down the hall, branching off beside the grand staircase. As they passed it, Jason glanced up instinctively—then immediately looked away, a shiver running through him at the memory of what had happened there only a couple of hours ago.

—---------------------------

They didn’t go far before Lyn stopped abruptly.

“Dining room!”

The space they stepped into made the word feel laughably insufficient.

Calling it a room was an understatement; it was huge. Vast and warm, bathed in soft amber light that reflected off polished wood and stone. Thick wooden pillars rose from the floor like rooted trees, supporting an impossibly tall ceiling crisscrossed with exposed beams, dark with age. High above, enormous stained-glass windows lined the outer walls, each one a chaotic mosaic of color—reds, golds, blues—no clear images or symbols, just an abstract sprawl that caught and scattered the light beautifully.

At one end of the hall stretched rows of impossibly long banquet tables, capable of seating dozens at once if chairs were present . In the center stood several massive picnic-style benches—still large enough to dwarf normal furniture—arranged to face a small raised stage at the far end of the room.

The sheer scale of it all swallowed them.

A collective “Whoa…” echoed through the hall as everyone took it in.

Cassandra, however, reacted quite differently.

She lifted her chin, eyes sweeping over the space with measured approval.

“Truly,” she declared, “a banquet hall fit for one such as myself. I will accept this as an apology for your audience’s… misgivings.”

Jocelyn snorted softly from the back of the group.

Lyn clasped her hands neatly behind her back, clearly pleased with the reaction.

“Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner,” she recited proudly, ticking each one off with a nod.

“And,” Jocelyn chimed in casually, “any dietary needs are accommodated. Allergies, preferences, moral objections, blood-based diets, fasting rituals—just tell Lyn.”

Lyn nodded solemnly.

“Tell Lyn.”

With that, Lyn pivoted sharply on her heel—tail?—and floated back out into the hallway, already heading onward. The group shuffled after her, reforming into a loose pack. Jason found himself drifting toward the back.

They were halfway down the hall when someone spoke up beside him.

“Hey, uh–”

Jason startled slightly and turned to see April walking alongside him.

“I know we had that whole… ‘intro’ thing,” she said, making a vague circling gesture with her pointer finger, “and we’ve technically been neighbors for, like, years, but this feels like a better time than ever to actually say hi. So… hi! I’m April.”

She extended her hand.

“O-Oh. Yeah. Hi,” Jason replied, quickly returning the gesture. “I’m Jason. And, uh… sorry about all of this.”

Their hands met.

It surprised him how normal it felt. He’d half-expected something cold, or stiff, or unreal—but instead there was warmth. Soft, solid, and unmistakably real. Somehow, it was the most grounding thing he’d felt all night.

“I mean,” April shrugged lightly, “it’s hardly your fault, right? We died, and now we’re here. Beats being… regular dead, I imagine.”

She chuckled and glanced down at the swaying black appendage behind her.

“Even if it is a little strange.”

“Aheh… yeah. Strange,” Jason echoed.

And right on cue—

April tripped.

It was over nothing, no crack nor bump, just a sudden loss of balance. She stumbled forward with a sharp gasp, arms flailing as she tried to catch herself.

Her hands landed on something soft.

Very soft.

“EEYOW—!”

Mika yelped as a sudden, awful **** tugged at her lower back, pain flashing through her spine as she was yanked off balance. She toppled backward with a startled cry, landing flat on her back.

Thankfully, the impact wasn’t too bad.

Mostly because she landed on something else that was soft.

Very soft.

And lumpy?

And moving…

“Owww…” came a muffled groan from beneath her.

Mika blinked, then slowly looked down.

Between her legs, under the tangled black curls, was April.

“…Oh no,” Mika muttered.

She scrambled to stand, only for a gloved hand to suddenly fill her vision.

“Gotcha.”

Babs hauled her upright in one smooth motion, chuckling as she did. “Careful there, fox.”

Mika winced, instinctively rubbing at her tail as it swished irritably. “Thanks… My tail–ugh… it hurts.” Mika winced a bit at calling something ‘her tail’; it was certainly a weird thing to say.

“Sorry!” April blurted, scrambling to her feet with Jason’s help. “I swear I didn’t mean to–are you okay?”

Sylvie hovered anxiously nearby. “M-Mika? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Mika said, though she kept stroking her tail to soothe it. “Just… sore. Please don’t pull it again.”

“Noted,” April said earnestly, face pink.

Jason glanced between them, then down at April. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Just embarrassed, this isn’t anything new for me.”

Jocelyn sighed loudly, hovering a few steps ahead.

“Alright, alright, that’s quite enough slapstick for one hallway. We’re already behind schedule. Move it along!”

Lyn was further ahead and had already stopped at the next doorway.

“Living room!”

The space inside was… underwhelming.

A modest room greeted them, some small sofas arranged around a plain coffee table, bare walls, nothing flashy. After the grandeur of the dining hall, the disappointment was immediate.

“…That’s it?” Babs muttered.

But as the group looked closer, they noticed something strange.

Faint outlines hovered in the air—half-formed shapes, barely there. Like holograms. Or hallucinations. A pool table. A television. More elaborate seating. All ghostly and unreal. Even some of the walls had the faint glow of something unreal if you focused long enough.

“What’s going on with those things?” Babs asked, pointing towards the strange apparitions.

“Features!” Lyn beamed

Jocelyn drifted forward, smiling. “Right you are Lyn! You see, they’re currently locked. Each feature can be unlocked via a VP milestone.”

She gestured lazily.

“Couches upgrade at ten total VP. Pool table at twenty. Television on the wall? Thirty VP.” She grinned. “And that’s not all, other rooms and facilities can be unlocked throughout the hotel, all through your group, total VP, you can view it as earning them together as a team!”

“I thought this was a competition,” Cassandra scoffed. “What’s all this nonsense about teamwork?”

“Oh, there are many ways to play the game, sweetheart,” Jocelyn replied lightly. “We just provide the facilities.”

“A television?” Eleanor suddenly perked up. “My mother-in-law owned one… though I never actually got to see it.”

Babs stared. “You’ve never seen a TV?”

“Well,” Mika said thoughtfully, “she died in the nineteen-thirties. Televisions didn’t really become popular until the fifties. Around when you died, I imagine?”

“Uh… yeah,” Babs said slowly. “I guess...”

She frowned. “Wait. How long ago was that? Everything’s such a blur…”

“I believe I can answer that,” Jocelyn interjected brightly. “It’s currently September fifteenth, twenty-twenty-five!” She spread her arms wide.

“So it’s been…” Babs lifted her fingers and began counting.

“Sixty-six years,” Mika said gently. “For you, that is, for me… thirty-six.”

“That tracks,” Babs muttered. “Wexler was becoming an old coot toward the end.”

“Wexler?” Sylvie asked, surprising herself by speaking up.

Babs scowled. “Just the guy I was stuck sharing a house with for sixty-six years.”

“Oh,” Sylvie said quietly, retreating back into her thoughts.

Jocelyn clapped once.

“Well, I think that’s enough dilly-dallying,” Jocelyn announced. “Lyn! Take us to the next area!”

Lyn snapped off a neat little salute and immediately set off again.

The group reformed and followed, footsteps echoing softly through the halls. Jason found himself walking just behind Mika, and before he quite realized it, his attention had locked onto the gentle sway of her tail. It moved side to side with an easy rhythm, fluffy and hypnotic, the tip flicking slightly with each step.

His gaze drifted lower, tracing it up to where it met her overalls.

How does that even…

It looked like it was just poking straight through the fabric. No opening or seam was visible; it was just… there. The longer he stared, the fuzzier his thoughts became, his focus narrowing until—

Oh god.

He snapped his head up, heat rushing to his face. He’d basically been staring at someone’s ass for the last minute.

He glanced around quickly.

No one seemed to have noticed.

“…Wondering how the clothes fit?”

Except April apparently

Jason nearly jumped out of his skin.

April leaned a little closer, her voice dropping. She twisted at the hips, subtly showing him her lower back.

“Because I was thinking the same thing. See mine?” She pointed. “It’s just over the top of the shorts. Pretty straightforward. But hers seems to just… stick through. I don’t get it either.”

“Ah—uhm, yeah,” Jason replied, nodding quickly. “I was wondering that. Yours seems pretty straightforward…”

“Right?” April said, wagging a finger back and forth as she spoke. “I’ll ask her later, when the tour’s over. You know, one animal girl to another.”

Jason glanced at her, studying her expression. “You know… you’re taking all of this pretty well.”

She shrugged. “I mean, I was usually cooped up in my apartment, scared of the world. It was miserable, if I’m being honest.” She paused, then continued more thoughtfully. “But I figured… I’m dead now, right? Or something close to it, at least in this new body. So I don’t think I can really get hurt.”

“What makes you think you can’t?” Jason asked.

“My bandages,” she said. “I’m still wearing them, but underneath? No scrapes. No cuts. Not even a bruise. There’s no pain at all.”

Jason frowned slightly. “…Now that you mention it.”

He raised his right hand, flexing it carefully as he inspected the bandage. No twinge. No ache.

“Huh,” he murmured. “No pain at all. Fascinating…”

He slowly unwrapped the bandage—no small task, given how well Mrs. Stewart had tied it. When it finally came free, he stared.

Nothing. No blistering. No burn mark. Not even a rash.

“And no lasting damage,” he added quietly. “Interesting.”

Mika slowed her steps, having caught the end of the conversation, and turned back toward them.

“You did just watch me grow a tail,” she said dryly. “Surely healed wounds aren’t that far-fetched.”

“Plus,” she added, tail swaying idly, “we all literally died. And that got undone.”

Jason let out a soft, awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck as heat crept into his face.

“…Yeah,” he admitted. “When you put it like that, I guess it’s pretty obvious.”

Lyn slowed, then came to an abrupt stop, hovering a few feet ahead of the group.

“Gift shop!” she announced brightly.