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Limewah's Hypnovember 2022_

Story IV

The First Modern Occurrence of Hypnotic Transformation

Prompts: Matter Over Mind, On Display, Trigger

Commissioned by Caine Latrans, Veridis and Hyenaface

With thanks to Hyenaface for the prompts

_Hypnotic Transformation(colloquially referred to as HypnoTF) is, by now, a well-known phenomenon; one that is difficult to explain, and difficult to replicate, explain or observe in modern society(see also: Spontaneous Combustion, Dancing Plagues, The Helvetica Scenario). As of yet, there has not been any video evidence of a successful transformation occurring, but the most contemporary example of a 'HypnoTF' incident is a robust, fascinating one, and one that I feel warrants further study. _

The controversy of the life of James Veridis and his dealings aside, I think there are some interesting things to learn from his exploits, without going into detail onto the more cultic elements of his later life. We will not be discussing the Pike's Peak Incident.

This essay will consist of excerpts from several documents, with only some editorialising from me; I feel it all speaks for itself.

I

_Advertisements taken out in numerous broadsheet papers along the American North-East, October 1 - November 30 1890. _

A chance like this will not come again - do not deprive yourself of the opportunity to see how the mysteries of the body and mind can be solved in mere minutes. Professor. James Veridis, with a union of the greatest knowledge and teachings of the Empire and the Orient, will show you the true plasticity of reality. Prepare to enter a new epoch of understanding.

II

Excerpt from the Latrans Travelogue - Volume II, Chapter 12, anecdote iii.

When your humble coyote first received the invitation from the professor, there were a multitude of considerations to be made. For one thing, he came from the old Empire, and any red-blooded American would have some degree of pause when being approached for an opportunity by a Brit. You never know when he might slip in the king's shilling into your drink or somesuch. Also, the claims he made in his invitation beggared belief. Changing not only the mind, but the body through mere suggestion?

Naturally, I myself had the gift, but that is down to the coincidence of my birth, as you know, dear reader.

On the one hand, I smelled an opportunity for a bit of ridicule, something that could be easily published in every Humourist magazine from coast to coast. I also thought it might be nice to see if I could pass myself off as him and crash his show for a little bit of fun.

But on the other, I wondered if he had a skill as wondrous as mine.

I admit I did not know what to expect when I met the lion, too. I expected a weedy eccentric, not a confident, well built individual, honed through a penchant for tennis, I would later learn. It also transpired he was aware of, and fond of my existing writing. He had just seen me perform at the Grand Hall not even two days before; not one of my best showings, I will admit, but one he had nothing but effusive praise for.

I can smell a flatterer from a mile away, but his praise was a smidgen narcotic.

During our conversation, from his little moves and overtures towards me, I came to understand that his interest in me had a little bit of a carnal tone to it. He was more of a tomcat than a lion, as it were. However, it would not have been very gentleman-ly of me not to accept his offer. My reputation of never turning down a challenge - be it a duel of words, a sporting competition, or an invitation to rut - is one that I refuse to tarnish, dear reader. My hotel was conveniently close-by, ensuring our impatient libidos did not have to wait long.

It was while we were in the middle of our fore-play that I noticed him muttering some words into my neck while nibbling on me like a vampire. Before I knew it, his lips were at my ear.

He began to ask me questions about my state of mind, and the sensations I was feeling.

For instance, he asked me what I felt when his lips were on my neck, and I described them - an opiate heat that seemed to spread inside me, like embers slowly immolating a piece of parchment. He asked me to describe the colour of the flames. I imagined a flame from a bunsen burner, a cool blue tongue of it.

It was then that I noticed a similar flash out of the corner of my eye. At first, a hallucination, but then I could see that the tip of the lion's tail was ablaze.

My immediate thought, I am ashamed to admit, was that he could set the room on fire, and that I could not afford yet another bill for repairs from an upscale hotel.

I was about to pass a frightened comment. but when he snapped his fingers at my ear and returned my attention to his mouth, and his words, that faded away.

I did not question why it was ablaze like an aurora, but merely stared with slack-jawed wonder. The tail came closer to my face, and swayed to and fro, gentle like a feather duster, but radiating heat like a hearth. I could feel a strange sensation of something shifting in me, not unlike the sensations when I transform myself.

He asked me to commit the colours to memory, and the sensations they made me feel. I replied with my answer, and he asked me to repeat it again, with the understanding that each time I repeated, the feeling would recurse, building speed like an out-of-control carriage, heading inexorably towards a crash.

The crash hit me by the fifth repetition.

I felt as though I was falling through the crust of the earth, into someplace dark, and warm, and so very comfortable. I felt my muscles tense and flex, with a sort of post-exercise soreness, far more pleasant than that word seems to imply. My clothing felt tight, shortly before it was removed from me entirely. I must admit my talents of disguise, and my malleable body, were starting to run away from me a little.

Or perhaps he was making a request of me to grow, and I saw no reason not to oblige. My aura massaged my muscles and they rose like leavened dough. This transformation felt far easier, and in fact, far more pleasurable than my normal transformations ever were. I recall growing in height, too, and my heavy arms dragging me down towards the floor slightly. The Professor was there to keep me upright, and his tail continued to do its curious, wonderful dance...

I profess I remember very little of what happened over the next day or so, save for the knowledge that it was a pleasant time indeed. The extraordinary feeling of comfort lingered.

I had seemingly attempted taking notes during that period, too, but they were sloppy, poorly written, and frankly incomprehensible. Far too embarrassing to share here.

I did not cross paths with that charming lion again, so much of what happened to me had to be pieced together after the fact.

-

While what follows in the chapter is an amusing, engaging sort of detective story, it also does not provide the most succinct description of Professor Veridis' practice. Rather than continue with it, I want to switch to another account that goes into more detail of the performances he carried out.

-

III

Excerpt from diaries of B.M. O'hAileachán

I attended a very peculiar sort of magic show at a vaudeville today. I don't quite know why, but I started to take some very intense notes, more than I usually do at these events

It might have been cause Mr. Caine Latrans himself made an appearance. He had all the hallmarks and trademarks - his eyepatch, his peach-coloured ascot, and the confident swagger of a coyote-around-town.

I seem to recall wanting to be studious so as to impress him. But he did not pay me any mind; why would he?

He took up a seat right at the front of the stage, nowhere near me. I was tempted to move, but the stands filled up too fast. I came to understand that I was one of the few people in this room who did not know of Professor Veridis' work. They spoke with such feverish tones about him, and the applause he received was more effusive than I expected. There was only a smattering of people who did not raucously applaud. A bewhiskered river-dragon near me with a very sour look on his face did not applaud at all.

The red-maned lion slunk on stage like he was about to pounce on someone in the front row. He went through his introductions. While I will admit I didn't follow most of his stories of travelling to the Orient and meeting 'yogis' and 'gurus' and such, he seemed decently worldly.

I was more interested in seeing what all the fuss was about this 'mesmerism' business he kept referring to. A sort of psychic magnetism, in his words, one that tapped into an invisible aura that flowed through all living things. By tapping into and controlling it, one could change their mental reality as well as their physical one.

"One monk I spoke to referred to this as chakra. Some men from the Orient referred to it as qi. Others, more learned folk, refer to it as orgone energy. Whatever it is, it is a powerful resource, unknown to most, and we may tap into it at will."

I followed the majority of it, though the tonality of his voice made me feel a little bit sleepy, and he kept making these curious gestures with his hands at odd times that drew my eyes to follow them before they pointed back towards his eyes.

I did notice the dragon bristling now and then whenever mentions of the 'East' came up. He tutted and muttered under his breath, pulling his arms tighter into his chest like he was about to crush his ribcage. I did not foresee him staying silent for too long.

"And now, my dear audience, I've spoken about my work long enough. It is time to show you. Who here would like to volunteer?"

Many hands shot up quickly, including mine, but it seemed the lion had already picked his choice. He gestured to Mr. Latrans, and up the coyote strode.

"I must say," Professor Veridis continued, "it is an honour to have you grace the stage with your presence."

"You know pleasantries don't agree with me," Mr. Latrans said with the barest touch of a smile. "Let us get to the demonstration. What will you have me do?"

I detected some flirtation and fore-knowledge.

Professor Veridis had Mr. Latrans sit in a chair on the stage, and began his performance. I noticed more of the gestures from his opening statements; swirling revolutions the wrists, butterfly-like fluttering of the fingers, and plucking pinches that seemed to be grasping at nothing at all. As he did so, the canine followed those fingers. The lion made a strange, low humming sound, too.

"You will start to feel a comfortable feeling of sleep come over you, now. And with it, as you breathe, and as you follow, I'll ask you to picture a colour in your mind. This is the colour that will represent the invisible magnetic essence that courses through you..."

"Blue, and purple."

"Blue, and purple," the lion repeated, and I noticed a strange fluttering in the coyote's eye.

"Good," the professor continued. "You can feel how my paws are tapping in to that essence. I am slowing down its journey, and it is slowing down your thoughts, the world fading away... and in a moment, it is going to pause entirely. You will know the cue when it comes..."

I saw a flash upon the stage, magnetic to look at even from this distance. His tail-tip burst into flame, a cool, swirling flame that bathed the coyote's face in light.

"By channelling my orgone energy, or chakra, or what have you, you can do wondrous things with your body. Like turning a part of your body into a powerful focus for mesmerism. You feel the warmth?"

I could not hear Mr. Latrans say yes, but I could see him saying it. The glow swirled on his face, in his eye.

"And, as a learned man, you know that heat causes expansion, yes."

"Yes..."

"Well, then. Let your muscles and your body expand. I want you to stare into the flame, and feel yourself grow. The orgone, or qi, is pushing downwards into your body, building out your muscles and turning you, slowly, gradually, into a strong-man. And as that magnetism fills your body, there is less for your mind. And your thoughts drain away to nothing...

It was at this moment that the sullen sceptic near me decided to break his silence. He stood from his seat so violently that it almost tumbled over. His crimson whiskers flared with fury, and he pointed his finger towards the stage like it was a blade.

"I will not endure any more of this pathetic display," he announced ; not just to the lion and his assistant, but to the whole room. "Not only are you making wildly ludicrous proclamations, you are making a mockery of my culture, turning it into mere mysticism and cheap entertainment!"

The lion looked back at the dragon, his face cool, smile and patient.

"What's your name, good sir?"

"I will not dignify you with the knowledge of my name," the dragon responded. "But I will call you what you are: a charlatan, a fraud, and a pretender to your title of professor. I myself am a man of science, and I know that not a single jot of what you proclaim is possible."

"Is that the case?" the lion said. "Explain how Mr. Latrans has changed so thoroughly, then."

The lion had a point. Through that whole conversation, the oblivious-seeming Latrans was growing more and more muscular. As if on cue, one of the buttons of his already-bowed shirt popped free, and he chuckled like a child. The first pop and rip revealed that he was wearing a skin tight body-suit beneath his familiar outfit, striped with blue and purple. As I became aware of this, I also noticed the widening of his shoulders and ribcage, and his neck bulging with newly defined muscles. He was becoming almost like the caricature of a sideshow strongman.

"I suppose you'd better remove the rest of that while you're at it, my good strongman!"

"Yes, Boss," the coyote barked, his voice harsher and lower like that of a common thug. As he stood, he tore off his shirt to consternation and laughter, flexing his broadening muscular frame and grinning with a strange sort of menace. Mr. Latrans truly seemed a whole new person now.

The definition of his bulging, muscular body against his singlet was lascivious; nothing was left to the audience's imaginations.

It was a good thing there were no women in the room, they most certainly would have swooned into a dead faint. Our masculine constitutions fared little better against the mesmerising scandal.

The dragon balked slightly, but refused to back down entirely.

"See? He is already dressed as a strongman! This carry-on stinks of pre-rehearsal. Mr. Latrans' gifts for transformation are already well-known! I wager that it is impossible for you to do this to any other man in this room, for the first time."

"I do love to convince a sceptic," the lion said. "Please, Sir, come join me on the stage."

A chorus of jealous grumbles and harrumphs spread through the theatre. The dragon walked on stage confidently, practically getting right in the lion's face.

"Now now, no need to get within fire-breathing distance!" the lion laughed, throwing that aside out to the audience.

"Ex_cuse_ me?" the challenger, understandably offended, looked ready to throttle him.

"Never mind," the lion said quickly. "Now, if you'll sit, I can begin."

"I prefer to stand, sir."

"Sitting is better. It ensures that you will not risk injury by falling over when you're induced into trance. So sit."

A strange, confused sort of look spread over the dragon's rapidly relaxing face. I noticed a glow in the lion's eyes. His tail snaked up into the air and dangled overhead the pair like the appendage of an anglerfish. The dragon haltingly complied with the request, sitting almost like a machine.

(Mr. Latrans followed the tail with his eyes, almost pawing at it like a cat.)

"You can see how I can manipulate my own magnetism," the doctor continued. "See how it swirls not only in my tail, but in my eyes... and do you remember when I did this gesture?"

As he loomed over the dragon, Professor Veridis stroked the air in front of his new subject's face with his fingers. I felt warm honey trickle down my spine.

"Yes...?" the dragon sounded confused. But then, so was I...

"And when I do it again, do you feel those sensations more powerfully than before?"

"Yes..." he repeated, this time with a slight scoff. I felt it too.

"Yes. And when you look into my eyes, and you watch my tail, and you watch my paw, you can feel something shifting, can you not?"

I felt it too.

"I wager some of you in the audience are there too. So allow yourself to slip. Allow yourself to notice the colour of the energy. And what is the colour? It is Blue and Purple."

(note: from this point onwards the quality of the handwriting degrades too significantly to be useful. However, I have one last primary document that will help elucidate what happened next.)

IV

Excerpt from an unpublished foreword to 'A Practical Guide To The Transformative Properties of Mesmerism' by Dr. J Veridis, written by Dr. H.F.

The Colours are Blue and Purple.

If anyone has ever crossed paths with the miracle worker that is Dr. James Veridis, those words have an inexorable and irresistible effect on their psyche. I am among those privileged people, and I hope that you glean even a fraction of his genius knowledge from this book.

I still remember when he first put me under in that little vaudeville theatre. His eyes, blue and purple, so endlessly deep and beautiful. His voice, silky and smooth, pouring blue and purple fog that enveloped my mind and made the rest of the world melt away. The gently licking flames on his tail-tip.

His whole body breathed with the colour, and I breathed with him.

I could feel the magnetism that, until then, I believed was phoney. I felt its weight and mass flowing through every molecule of my body, and all of it was flowing towards him. My body was still, poised and ready to follow, a mound of clay ready to be moulded by him.

I remember, too, what he said to me as he plucked at my aura and pulled me deeper under his spell.

"I can see your desire for change, your desire to transcend. You are a man of great intellect, but surely you desire a different body now and again. With my voice, and my body as your guide, you can be anything, anyone at all. Even changing who you are as a person..."

He took my face in his hands and massaged, flattening and rounding out my snout.

He drew my gaze to his partner (some famous someone-or-other, but who it was no longer registered to me).

"You are becoming like my assistant," he said. "You will become a perfect replica of him, so perfect that none could tell you or him apart. His musculature, his face, even his personality will all overwrite your own. I mould your mind and your body is moulded with it. Give in to its intoxicating power, and give in to me."

How could I say no to such magnetic charisma? Or to the beautifully muscular, erect body before me?

His hands plucked our energies out of our bodies and slowly transferred them across the endless space. The coyote's essence to me, and mine to his. His face became mine, his thin whiskers entwining into long fleshy cat-fish strands, his nose exhaling smoke as it widened out. By this point, he towered over me and the genius professor by several heads, his arms and legs like tree trunks, and I felt a desire to be just like him.

I knew the Professor sensed my desires, and he obliged me.

My clothes sheared and shed from me, and I stood turgid and at attention, just like him. We stood like smiling sentries on either side of the genius, and he laid his hands upon us. My mind exploded with blue and purple, and it coaxed out a long, deep groan, my legs splaying out to the sides as I slumped in my chair like a drunkard - indeed, I was drunk on the best feelings of euphoria of my young life

"What is your name, Sir, remind me?" the genius asked me, his voice flirtatious and gentle; at once a provocation and a lullaby.

His fingers fluttered and plucked at the air, and the words they plucked from my mouth were 'Caine Latrans'.

I did not require my old name after all.

Latrans was a man I once found rather ridiculous, but now, living in his shoes and his mind, I understood he was far sharper than I gave him credit for. After all, submitting to the genius was an act of deep, abiding emotional intelligence.

Not only that, the feelings of light frivolity flowing through my mind were quite nice. Not having to think at all was proving a glorious reprieve.

"Awaken," he said. I foolishly thought he was referring to me, but as I brought my head up, he simply swiped his tail in front of my face and I dropped right back down. While he continued his lectures for some time after, it all passed me by, and I swayed with a lolling tongue like a fish being seduced by a juicy worm on a hook.

When he bade me rise, I did, finding myself a little off balance, and quite inebriated by the manipulations of my mind and body. His gaze turned upon us again, and he moulded our bodies, conducting them into new forms again. Our musculature remained firm and broad. But whether it was growing our noses into long, chitinous horns as we became hulking, brutish rhinoceri, or he gave us the beaks, plumage, and lilting voices of a pair of song-birds, our transformations were absolute and perfect.

There was no pain - a surfeit of the opposite, in fact. My body felt cool, wet and comfortable, like the bracing cold of a pool on a hot day. The stories of horrid transformations, the cautionary tales of lycanthropy... I had no reason to fear the changes. My body was growing into a purer, more perfect form with each change, and there was nothing but ecstasy that awaited me at the end of each journey.

We displayed ourselves to the mesmerised crowd, our perfect mimickry of the species we became - be it the growls of a bear, or the calls of a seal, we gave the audience such incredible delight. There was envy in their eyes with each new transformation the Professor bestowed upon us.

As his power over us and his mastery over our auras grew, so too did our transformations - and my understanding that the Professorwas truly the most spectacular, special, wonderful, magnificent, handsome, divine, attractive[...] individual I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.

It continued long after the show, too. He took me and his fellow assistant back with him, and showed us more of what he had learned on his many travels... pleasures that even I found exotic.

In fact, after that single evening of excitement and pleasure, I came to realise that my truest, happiest self would be to take on the same form as the genius himself. He was more than happy to oblige me the morning after our trysts, working his incredible gifts upon me and permanently making me into a lion. This of course came with the understanding that he was the head of our pride of two - and soon, our pride of many more.

I have accompanied him as a loyal assistant and paramour ever since, doting on him with all the love, subservience, and loyalty he deserves.

Once you have come to the end of this book, you will understand why you, too, should live and breathe with Blue and Purple. They are the colours of your aura, and when you realise that, you will experience far more incredible things than you could ever have dreamed.

Afterword

While no further mention of Professor Veridis appears in Mr. Latrans' travelogues, it is difficult to say whether they met again or not. After all, at a certain point Mr. Latrans simply vanished from the public eye entirely; not even the date of his death is known. There were reports and recollections of Veridis having a retinue of fellow lions as retainers and assistants, one of which had an eyepatch over one eye. Another, by the way, had long whiskers resembling that of a water-dragon's too, and others still bore very curious personalised traits that resemble others who went missing. The above article seems to corroborate things.

This is potentially an example of a more permanent form of hypnotic transformation.

Whether this is the case or not may never be determined. At a certain point, after years of travel (and the aforementioned incident), Professor Veridis too vanished from the public eye. With that, came rumours that he had cheated death itself through his hypnotic manipulations.

Absurd, of course. But imagine if that were true.

I'd give a lot to get to speak to him first-hand. Ask him why he did what he did, and what he might share with us today. But we have to settle for scraps, until the next one like him comes along.

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