Turn back time

After a while, Justine and Justin appeared back on stage.

“Well, that was a lovely wedding,” Justine murmured. “Is the production on?”

“Yes. As long as that sponsor read happens.” Justin stated.

Justine did a little stretch and rubbed her face a little before resuming her position on the stage.

“For the record, I think it a stupid pitch.”

Justine stood for a moment before doing a little twirl. And when she had stopped, her red dress had changed into a green dress of a similar vintage.

“And welcome back!” Justine grinned as various signals told the show was back on.

She swept her arms towards the three people on stage. “Last time, we told you about what we will do. For those on the slow side, here is the rub. We are taking our elderly master and his compatriots in the march of time and turning the clock back. After we finish this little touch-up session, we reveal the choices for you to vote for. Without further ado, let’s proceed.”

She turned around and clapped her hands. Little motes of colored lights appeared around Thomas, Alexa, and Agatha. Vapor started rising off the three of them. She grinned a little bit. Justine smiled as their hair changed colors, and all three lost wrinkles. Justine suppressed laughter in her throat. Her little production was filtering thoughts to her from the three of them. She could not affect their minds, at least not while the spell worked its magic.

—-

Thomas felt the vapor a brief moment before it got off him. It was oily and smelled vaguely of mothballs. What he could see was curious. It seemed whatever magic cast on him, and presumably the others, he could not see anything.

He flexed his toes and fingers to see if they responded. To his relief, he could sense their movement. He tested if other parts of him would move as much. He found that his arms had a free range of motion. However, he could not lift his feet. He could bend his knees and raise parts of his feet. He could not lift the entire foot off the ground to locomote anywhere.

That person’s magic must have bound his movement to stand at this spot. The only other time he could recall that remotely felt like this was the incident. He did not want to think of that. Friends were gone. Nothing would change that.

He grimaced at himself. Stop with the sad history for the moment. There are genuine concerns about the other people brought here for others' amusement. Tatiana came to mind. She had, as far as he could tell, a happy marriage. No matter how old or young he got, he was not going to be the cause of a breakup of said marriage. He believed that Mica also spoke about a boyfriend, although they had not talked that much. All they had done was share a space for about a year between classes.

He spent most of last year in that office talking with Julia. She was very assured of what she wanted to do. He could not see that lady tied down with the care of a grandpa like his presumed old self. Well, things could be different, but no. There was a code of ethics with conduct between students and professors, and he intended to follow that through.

And the others? For three of them, it was hard to say. When talking to Ms. Alesio, she seemed to be in between places. She was always one to talk about this or that. He could not say more since they were not close, just a bartender at the bar near campus. Then, there was Ms. Claire Poulin. Thomas possessing the book she had carried on her body until that day was insufficient to know the person. He was familiar with her state of mind up to well now. Thus, Thomas knew her more intimately than most people. At the same time, she knew nothing of him, and it would be unsettling to just dive into a conversation like he knew her all his life. What would his grandfather think of all of this?

There was, of course, Ms. Tang. What was her story, he could only guess at. Once she sobered up, they could have a drink to discuss this mess they were in. Or not. He would suggest meeting them all for a formal follow-up about these bizarre occurrences. The strangeness demanded that everyone come together to discuss the mess they were in. It is preferable without anyone losing consciousness throughout it.

Of course, there was Agatha and Alexa. His fellows in this process, at least. Both were of his generation. Alexa was from the Before times. He supposed they were as close as anyone was at that age. After that time passed, he drifted from thinking about her to other concerns. She was essentially a stranger after all this time.

And what to say about Agatha? Regrets, that’s all. He knew that her husband was dead. If he wanted to say something about their relationship, it was several years ago. He had not mustered the courage to do so then. Maybe he could do so now? It was as likely as this ‘show’ letting them go without a price.

He hoped whatever they were going through was at least as pleasant as his. Thomas frowned. Agatha gave the most crap to Justine, so she was probably not going to have a good go at it. His mental faculties seemed intact after the transfer to a presumably younger age. How would Alexa’s mind be affected by the procedure? Well, it was not like he had any power to change the outcome either way it went.

—-

Agatha grimaced as whatever sorcery was working felt like a hot iron was going over her skin. She tried not to breathe through her nose. Holies of holies, it smelled of dead skunks.

A sensation hit her guts that made her want to throw up. She needed to bend over to maybe hurl. However, something, most likely foul magic, prevented her from doing anything like that. It felt like she could only slightly tip forward. Unluckily, that magic also prevented the contents of her stomach from exiting in either direction. It thus made her guts feel like a washing machine.

At the same time, it felt like nails were pounding in her mouth. This sensation was much worse than any migraine she ever had. She felt a grinding pressure on the back of her neck. Worse was her eyes. It felt like sand had gotten in them.

Thank god she could move her arms and hands around to try and alleviate the pain. Closing her eyes brought some relief, as well as rubbing her stomach. Something magical happened when she put her right hand on her chin and pushed up. All the pain in all the various parts subsided. She sighed with relief. Agatha decided that she would continue her actions. She decided to keep her arms exactly where they were. Moving them elsewhere may incur the ‘conditions’ to come back.

She took a slow, deep breath and thought about the past hour or two. Time felt so wonky around here. That admittedly was the least of her concerns. Being **** into a magical harem, according to that damnable ruleset, with Thomas, well, nothing good would come of it. Not that she didn’t think that Thomas was the problem in that equation. It was more the subordination of all the women here to one person’s will, no matter who the person was.

Still, Thomas was in the middle of this mess. Even after their divorce, things were cordial between the two of them. With Thomas working at the university, she kept track of his career. The occasional gossip also informed her of some of his private life, besides just talking to him on occasion, usually for grants and the like.

He was a good man. There were no rumors of impropriety; he had an excellent teacher rating and had settled into a stable routine. Why they were not together was a mystery to herself and, she suspected, him. Maybe it was all her medical issues when they were together? That didn’t sound right, somehow. Personality-wise, they seemed to be a good match. Mentally, she shook her head. These questions popped up occasionally, and she did not have a good answer for all these years. It was unlikely to be resolved now.

The current predicament was much more straightforward. That witch of a host had cast whatever sorcery to change their age. It appeared to involve some ‘interesting’ side effects. Heaven knows what Thomas and the other woman (Alexa?) were going through. At least the mentality of that other woman should let her forget about the present very soon.

—-

Alexa breathed in deep. The smell she was getting was a slow-cooked chicken. It reminded her of her mother setting the meal up on Friday. Well, at least that was something. She could not see a darn thing. One second, she had a clear view of the stage. The next, she could not see two inches in front of her. Was this ****? What would her daughter think of all of this?

She touched her face. It seemed to be the same. On a positive note, her touch was still functioning. On the negative, she could not move her legs at all. The last time she could remember being in such a position was in elementary school. As she gazed at memories past, a clawing mass started in her stomach.

She pulled herself out of that troubling set of memories and to think of happier thoughts. She thought of her daughter. It was just the other day that Emma had told her that she would be a grandmother. Oh, how that would be such a sweet thing to be. Oh, how happy she would be over to see grandchildren. But that was in the future. Emma had just married, and asking if children were in the cards would be impudent. It would be nice if that happened. Though why was she thinking of that? Emy was a beautiful girl if she said so. That admission aside, it was not time for that contemplation yet. Emy was only twelve.

Her mind refocused on the situation in front of her. One of the strangest of positions she found herself in. One minute, comfortably sitting reading a story with Emy, the next stuck in this odd void. How did any of this make logical sense? Well, panicking would not do her any good. She took a deep breath. Yep, the smell was still of cooking food.

It reminded her that she should go and take Emy to see the old bird. Her mother was in the hospital in the weeks after Emy’s birth. She was always in and out of medical facilities for most of her life. Dear Mama was not well of body. Her mind seemed to be the only thing that was sharp in that tomb of a shell. Still, it was unfortunate that her mother had caught something else and had missed her graduation. Hopefully, whatever hell she was in would be short so that her dear mother would not have another stressor in her life. She hated the thought of being the primary cause of her mother’s ****.

—-

Justine tossed a bit of her black hair back absentmindedly. The performance of magic was winding down for now. She turned to the front of the stage.

“Ladies and Gentlemen and Creatures of all stripes, I am pleased to show you the younger version of our host and two of the contestants. Now, it’s not the last of the transformations today. Please consider this a bonus.” Justine purred out.

Justine waved her right hand towards the general direction of the other people on stage. As the floating colored lights disappeared, the three people revealed did not look the same.

Thomas had the minimal dramatic changes. His hair changed from a stuck-up white to a smoothed-out brown. His piercing sky-blue eyes looked out with no glasses anywhere. There was something in his face that, while he was old, made him look wiser. That same quality gave the impression of someone you could confide in. It also probably had to do with his posture. His back had straightened out, so he stood an inch taller. More importantly, with his shoulders pulled back, the impression given was that he seemed more solid than before. His gray suit had color shifted into a royal blue.

Alexa’s clothes changes were vastly different. Gone was her floral dress. In its place was a black cardigan with a white pattern and blue jeans. Green eyes, now framed by renewed chocolate brown hair, had a focus not present before. Gone was the compression of age, and she stood straighter than before. She and Agatha were at the same height now at what looked to be 5’ 6”. Her position seemed natural enough, with her arms crossing over her chest.

Agatha was not. Her eyes closed with one hand under her chin and the other rubbing her stomach. She also seemed to be gently humming to herself. Her changes were striking. Her short blue-dyed hair had exploded out into a long red mane. Her arms and legs showed signs of working out. The reason that one could see those limbs was a wardrobe change. Her nightgown had transformed into a simple white t-shirt with a graphic of a cat on it and a pair of blue shorts. What wardrobe change also revealed was the curves of her body, especially the breasts. Compared to the other women there, hers would be the third largest out of the group.

Thomas and Alexa had their eyes open, and their mouth started moving. However, not a sound emanated out.

Justine wiggled her finger, “Now that you had the time to look at our lovely contestants, I have to announce an ad break. Don’t worry. We’ll reveal the transformation choices after the break. We will have the first impression poll during the break, so please vote. We’ll see you after the break!”

AN: We're almost at the transform choices. Hope you enjoy the story so far. Here is a poll for the contestants.

https://strawpoll.com/2ayLkA8MvZ4