Dale looked over at the suit of the big yellow dog. “Goldie the Alchemist” was his name, and he wore it with as much pride as he did his big, goofy grin. Normally, Dale donned this suit to allow Goldie to perform in front of everyone before the big game. Now, though, the suit was empty. If this routine went well, maybe the suit would stay empty for some time to come…
“It must’ve gotten so hot in there,” said Lani, also eying the costume. “But now he gets to stay inside in the air conditioning, while we go out and do all the hard work! Hehe, it’s, it’s a joke.”
Dale’s reaction was delayed by his wandering thoughts, but he finally gave a light chuckle. “Yeah, being a golden retriever wasn’t doing him any favors, that’s for sure. All that fur… And washing it was such a pain, too. Still, it’s kinda sad…”
Lani patted him on the back. “Come on, didn’t you say his spirit lives on through us, or whatever? Goldie isn’t bound by any physical suit, he’s bigger than that!” She giggled. “I’m kinda just trying to speak your language here, I don’t take this nearly as seriously as you do… Oh! It’s time to get ready.”
Last year, Chrysopoeia College’s rival school showed off a mindblowing mascot performance before the final game of the season by using magic during the performance. The Retrievers lost that game, and Dale sincerely believed that this was why. “It threw us off,” he’d said. (Of course, he didn’t actually keep up with the game itself, so perhaps he was a bit biased…)
Transformation magic was the specialty of Chrysopoeia College, so it made sense to utilize that in a new routine. Just becoming a living version of Goldie was too basic, however. No, they needed to truly surprise and dazzle the crowd.
They’d practiced so many times that it was nothing special to Dale when synthetic yellow fur began to grow from Lani’s body. She grunted and kicked off her shoes just in time for her feet to begin broadening into stiff, paw-like boots. “S-sometimes I wonder how it’d feel to just let them rip through…” she said, blushing. Dale rolled his eyes.
Her legs, torso, and arms thickened, their interiors newly hollowed out. Lani’s feminine frame was completely swallowed up by the rotund, cartoonish proportions of Goldie. Her clothing… no, Goldie’s clothing… was beginning to fit better and better. Seams deepened around her wrists, separating her swelling hands into gloves, though they remained attached to her for now, much like her boot-feet. The dexterity of her fingers might’ve been obliterated by plushy fabric, but her control over her magic was still in full force.
The moment the tail began to grow in, it was already wagging furiously, further betraying Lani’s enjoyment of the whole process. Her voice and face couldn’t keep up with this level of expression, however, as the former quieted down and the latter began to shift. Her mouth was gradually forced into a grin, the area bulging out into a silly-looking muzzle. Her eyes glazed over as they widened. It was bizarre, seeing Goldie’s smile wash over her own face asymmetrically, lifting first one corner of her mouth and then the other into their fixed places, widening one eye and then the other in time.
Her blush was obscured by a wave of fabric (and made impossible by lack of biological functions), her ears flopped into place atop her head, and her hair sank into her fur, that last hint of Lani’s presence finally smoothed over. It’s not that Dale didn’t like Lani, but… surely she must’ve felt the same way he did about getting to be something greater, right…?
It was time for the game (what sport even was it? Dale paid no attention to things like this, as he was too busy practicing for his part), and so, more importantly, it was time for their performance. It started off pretty simple, with Dale attempting to put on the Goldie costume before it suddenly jumped to life and out of his arms. He’d then chase Goldie, firing spells until one finally landed and knocked off the suit’s head. Now, carrying the head, the rebellious costume’s movements became clumsier, leading to the inevitable crash into some fixture of the game (the goal, maybe?).
Lani was a damn good actor, and her ability to convey all these dynamics, and even be funny, all with her body language alone, was truly incredible. Dale wasn’t as good at pretending… but to him, this stuff was more or less real anyways. In a way, he was a terrible actor, but he more than made up for it by the fact that he wasn’t acting. When he chased after Goldie, that desire to catch him and put him on so he could be him was real.
And that’s exactly what he did. Goldie crumpled to the ground dramatically after his collision, and Dale quickly scooped him up and slipped him on. The crowd cheered for a moment, but then gasped as something seemed amiss. Maybe the guy who’d just donned the costume suddenly got sick or something? He was hugging himself and shaking his head… Was he okay?
Dale was perfectly fine, of course. Inside the costume, he was finally “getting into character” just like Lani had before the performance even began. That freeing sense of vacancy in his chest, and the gentle pressure of the outer suit squeezing around him, got Dale in the zone more than anything else ever had. “Doesn’t it distract you?” Lani had asked him. “It distracts me, but I don’t have to move for that part.” She was always saying things like this when it came to the more “unique” parts of this routine. Dale didn’t understand, but that was okay. He only needed to understand his part.
His mouth hardly needed to move to transform into the retriever’s silly grin, because he was already making the face himself. A tail wiggled against one of the costume’s legs. Outside, the crowd watched as the performer’s (performers’?) movements slowed.
No, that’s not right, Dale thought. It isn’t my part that I need to understand.
It’s Goldie’s.
Finally, the suit’s head was lifted from its shoulders to reveal a second, identical suit head. The gloves, boots, everything came off, the human that’d donned them nowhere to be seen. As the new Goldie took off the last piece of the costume, they all came together to reassemble the first, and now two living Goldie suits stood on the field, arms outstretched in a victorious pose.
The crowd went wild at the reveal, and the two Goldies ended off the performance with some more traditional routines, dancing along with the marching band and the cheerleaders and suchlike. The Retrievers won the game (barely), and Lani knew that Dale would never shut up about it for the rest of his life.
At least, that probably would’ve been the case if he hadn’t immediately pivoted to planning their next routine.