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Turning In For The Night

Not many people know what it’s like to have to share one body between two people, but for Enigma and Companion that has become much of their day to day. To that end, they’ve reached an accord of sorts. Should Companion wish to stretch his legs, or if Enigma has a task for his symbiote to perform overnight, then Companion is free to make use of his vessel while the mind mage slumbers.

Seen here, Enigma is preparing himself for what he’s come to call his “nightly handover to his assistant”. Reading a book and sipping a warm drink as he begins to drift off into blissful sleep.

Because Enigma himself is not awake once this process is completed, their shared vessel is limited to its Imperfect Bond form, but I don’t think Companion minds that much, or at all. After all, so long as he stays high above the city streets and sticks to the shadows, he’s free to roam around as much as he desires.

Come morning, the two will communicate in the wordless way symbiotes and mind mages do, so that they both remain on the same page. And thus far, these nightly excursions have not had any noticeable effects on the host. Enigma seems no worse for wear.

What’s the fun in having a symbiote if there’s no depiction of the transformation process, and Hiona is one of my favorite symbiote. So when they were open for commissions back in September of 2020, I had to take full advantage of it.

Additionally, when they saw the finish piece, FA writer Monifa Akhamnet wrote up a short story to go alongside it. With their permission, I am recreating that story below. I liked their take on Enigma and Companion’s relationship, even if canonically Companion doesn’t use spoken words anymore. Doubtless, if I chose to explore this avenue further, I would probably use this as a guidepost.

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Night Shift by Monifa Akhamnet:

“I’ve never sssssseen you do that before.” A voice hissed in his ear, coming from every direction and none of them simultaneously, a hissing accent that eluded any nation of origin. He did not turn to follow the voice, he merely settled his body ever more comfortably into the seat beneath him.

“Do what, Companion?” He murmured with a lazy drawl, his eyes vaguely scanning the book in his left palm while the right lifted a cup to his lips, from which he took the slightest, gentlest sips, merely allowing the fluid to bounce and ripple into his mouth from the slow momentum of being lifted.

“Drinking. Sssssso. Ssssssslowly.” The voice hissed again, it sounded annoyed, and yet amused. “If you’re trying to play the ‘how to annoy my besssssst friend the mosssssst’ game, then I would sssssay you’re doing a good job.” The voice hissed out again, extending the sounds with an audible shiver of it’s invisible tongue.

“With how much you complained about that lady in the ssssstore, I thought you’d try not to wassssssste peoplessssss time like sssssshe did.”

Enigma snickered. “Oh, so you’re a person now? Not an alien goo hiding somewhere in my muscle tissues?” He responded, earning an amused ‘snicker’ from the voice buried deep in the back of his head, the sound of it’s amusement scratching behind his eyes.

“I’m asssss much a persssssson assss you are. I think, I feel, and mossssst importantly, I get BORED!” His voice had direction now, coming from behind Enigma’s right shoulder. He could see the back of his own head, his perspective simultaneously through his own eyes and through those of another, the one he shared mind, body and soul with, his Companion. He kept his eyes on his book, allowing the shifting, half-liquid shape to form itself behind him into the looming devil on his shoulder, a being of glistening blackness with a muzzle and ears not dissimilar to his own, though he was thankful they did not share the same fang-stuffed maws.

He turned to look at the masculine figure, witnessing the slimy, half-solid mass of muscles that mirrored his own, his eyes running up from the hard abdominal muscles, along the claw-tipped fingers resting on his glistening muscles, up towards the hard, rune-emblazoned pecs and bulging biceps, all the way to the doppelganger’s muzzle. The face was staring at him pensively, a far cry from the usual dripping fangs and thrashing tongue.

“Come, you know it’ssssss my time out. Pleassssse, let me guide you to ressssst.” The figure hissed out gently, a hand sneaking around Enigma’s shoulder while the other held near his waist, gesticulating to help guide his words into Enigma’s head. It was working, already his eyes were feeling heavy and his muscles weary. The caffeine in his mug hadn’t helped at all.

Gently, he shut the book with one hand, watching the blur of letters be swallowed up by the hardback face. His other hand went slack as he allowed the ‘gates’ of his will to open, the ‘Companion’ immediately flooding onto the limb and engulfing it in his own inky volume. The cup went slack between his fingers, dangling off the thread of elongating, gleaming claws that easily began to dwarf Enigma’s own set. Control of the arm was swiftly wrenched away from him, and the contents of the mug ended up soaking into the carpet. “You know we hate that tasssssste. Sssssso bitter, we like ssssssweet and ssssssavoury.” The face hissed out, looming closer and closer to his own, already beginning to drip onto his cheek, engulfing it in the same darkness as his arm.

“Oh, how will you ever forgive me.” Enigma quipped lazily, watching as the thick, gooey material spread behind him to begin claiming his other arm.

“Two extra hoursssss tonight ssssshould do it.” The voice hissed playfully, the words coming from Enigma’s own muzzle now, slurping off an elongating, stretching, dripping tongue.

“One extra.” Enigma hissed back.

“One and a half?” Enigma asked himself.

“Deal.” He answered himself.