Down to earth
The details were annoyingly vague; my application to assist the parade was accepted, but the only message I got back stated my part was important, and that I was to meet with the director two days prior to the even, today, in fact. Nothing else, not even what my position was, oh well.
I took nothing, wearing only a light purple shirt, and shorts of the same colour.
I'm a cat-girl of sorts, a humanoid feline with white fur, bright purple, almost pink hair (cut short, the way I like it), bright green eyes, brown tipped feline ears, and of course, my tail, and paw-like hands. My name is Aramanta.
I met the parade director, a small male human in elaborate clothing to mark his station; we met in his office, a small building beside the warehouse, containing the various supplies for the parade. First off, he offered me a drink, which I accepted with a gracious "thank you." He watched intently as I swallowed the beverage down; admiring my body? I blushed at the thought, finishing the drink: a little tangy, but nothing too odd. I set the empty cup down, turning to face the director, as he opened his mouth to speak.
I began to feel sleepy, my vision blurring, a sudden drowsiness setting in. 'This is no time to sleep!' I shouted at myself mentally, before quickly giving in. Sleepy time....
My vision slowly cleared as I cam to, a rough dirt floor swam into view as my thoughts turned to just what happened. Falling asleep after the drink, had it been drugged? I panicked, leaping into action. No, nothing. I couldn't move anything at all, and my body felt weird. It was there, but feeling strangely disconnected, and numb. Damn it...
Instead, I gathered my thoughts, and looked around, as much as I could. 'Wait this through girl, you'll be fine' I reassured myself, before getting caught by another wave of drowsiness, falling to sleep despite my attempts to fight it off...
Awake again, maybe I can figure this out. There were three changes from last time:
My field of vision had risen, giving me a view of a large, closed door, the warehouse? It couldn't be: it seemed smaller.
I could hear gas hissing as it flowed into something, which leads to my third change; that something seemed to be me.
I felt like a sack, my body completely out of my control, and feeling strangely limp, though I should have at least felt my extremities. Must've been a powerful drug...
Right, they (whoever 'they' were) had done something to me, and I had to find out what it was, and get away. But for now, tired, again....
The next time I came to, my field of vision had risen yet again; I seemed to be much closer to the roof, by the look of it. My body was still unresponsive, feeling more like a sack than ever, and a bloated one at that.
"You're looking good, Aramanta!" A voice called up. My gaze seemed to be fixed, but I'm pretty sure it was the director. "What have you done to me!?" I tried to shout, instead finding myself unable to speak; only now noticing my mouth seemed to have disappeared.
"We're done for now, take a look!" he shouted again, a massive mirror sliding down to my side. I caught a brief glimpse, but somehow managed to fix my eye on that mirror, and saw myself.
I saw an immense, white furred ovoid, strapped into a small cradle, straining and swaying gently with the force of the lighter than air gases inside. A light purple mane lined the top of the fuzzy blimp, and a large, light green eye painted the nose of the balloon, which blinked as I did.
The white furred ovoid was my body, taken while sleeping, stretched, shaped, and bloated with gas. The mane was my hair, altered to fit my new body in an artistic manner. The eye was still my own, functional, yet more like a decoration painted on my inflated body.
The warehouse was not a warehouse, it was a hanger, MY hanger, and it seemed small because I'd gotten bigger.
My part in the parade was possibly the biggest of all, in a literal and figurative sense: I was the blimp, and would stay so for the entire parade, and following events.
Over the next few hours, I watched as parade helpers (the kind of role I thought I was destined for...) with the help of the mirrors, set up ladders against my body (I could feel them pushing into me), and make me more festive.
They decorated me with banners, signs and ornaments, and painted me with slogans and pictures. I had to stay in blimp form, and fully inflated until the end of the parade. There wouldn't have been enough time to make me normal, only to bring me back up to size; apparently the process had taken longer than I thought, seems I'd been out for hours on end. I'd agreed by default when I took the drink, it was no more than a sleeping pill, by the way.
I would remain the blimp for four days: The parade itself on the first day, for display and rides on days two and three, and a return to normal towards the end of day four. I would be deflated, washed, returned to normal. I was being paid quite a bit, though after the events. What would I have done with it now?
It was impossible to rest while being worked on; the helpers adjusted, or added my decorations, and checked and altered my pressure and volume. I didn't see the director again. Maybe he was preparing too, or maybe, he was embarrassed about tricking me into this shape. He should try swallowing this much gas and see how he likes it...
Eventually, the helpers left, and I was left alone, dolled up and ready for the big parade. I discovered I could indeed sleep, or at least pretend to sleep; after all, airships don't sleep, right?
When I woke up, I'd been attached to a gondola, the straps looped over me squashing me slightly. I was being transported, my gondola wheeling down a large tunnel, light at the end of the tunnel promising the outside world, I was naturally somewhat embarrassed, and nervous. Despite being stretched and inflated, I hoped no one recognized me.
There were four days worth of events, (myself as the main), and a crowd of thousands to enjoy them. Perhaps my job was straightforward, but I was going to need to be mentally ready for this, I don't think many had taken this job as it is.
The first day, starting from that moment was the parade, my massive body flanked by hundreds of (comparatively) tiny, gaudy floats I paid little attention to, men with ropes pulling me along the centre of the road, I paid them even less attention; I could hardly see them beneath me anyway. It was much harder to ignore the hundreds of people lining the streets, forgetting the floats as I drifted by, each and every one admiring me, and agreeing what a spectacular blimp I was, that I was the best one yet. I think I blushed, but it probably didn't show anyway. It was flattering, I'll admit, but I'd rather be complimented while bipedal. I couldn't help but wonder what everyone would have thought if they knew the truth, only the director knew, and a few helpers knew as far as I know, I also took some bitter satisfaction that I had such a great view.
I had barely any time to myself, but I didn't seem to need the rest anyway. Well, I may as well try and enjoy myself.
The next two days were simple. Being on display was easy, anchored to the ground, a shelter above me, all so anyone could come and get a better look. Mostly they talked about how beautiful I was, and how big. A few more astute observers swore I was looking at them, though their friends dismissed it, saying I was nothing more than an over decorated balloon, ha! I would have laughed...
The rest of time, I flew. Well, sort of, I floated, propelled by an engine in my gondola strapped to me. I felt the weight of it, despite being lighter than air; its contents however, were silent, kept inside the metal frame. The only noises were the motor whirring, and the wind pushing past me. The view was beautiful, the peace and quiet were a welcome change from the activity on the ground below. This part made it pretty much worth it.
That is, until I landed, a literal and metaphorical return to earth. I sighed to myself; the sky was much nicer...
Finally! The fourth day! Repetition makes things last longer; and playing the part of the festival blimp for four days does get repetitive. It had its perks, but on the whole, I'm glad to see the end of it. Speaking of lasting long, the closing ceremonies seemed to last forever, I was strapped back to the cradle, mounted behind the director, who droned on and on. I'll admit I wasn't really paying attention, but it's hard to miss your falling air pressure, they were finally deflating me! The crowd made mixed noises of cheer and disappointment as the best blimp yet sagged and rumpled; my own skin folding as I lost my gas. My field of vision lowered, my eyes drooping with the rest of me, until eventually I lay flat: a massive white sack, still adorned, and laying limply atop a trailer, a crumpled vision of my former glory. For the crowd, the festival was over, for me, I was free again. I felt someone rolling, and folding me up into a more compact shape, hiding my vision and hearing beneath my folds, I think they carried me away after that, but I had already blacked out.
I awoke, instinctively stretched my arms and legs, instantly knowing it was over. I looked around, finding myself in the office where I started, thankfully alone as I was naked, my clothing folded in a neat pile (I had a bizarre moment where I remembered being folded myself), and my substantial pay atop.
As I dressed, I frowned as I spotted a bit of paint still in my fur, making a note to wash it out later.
Fully dressed, and with my pay safely stowed away in a pocket, I left the office, moving under my own power for the first time in four days. I'll admit I liked being up in the sky, but I was happy to be back down to earth.