Not All Shapeshifters Are Big, Not All Are Mellow
(Who was St. Remedius? And why is a medical college named after him?)
December in Dallas, Texas is always fervent, and not just because of the desperate need for its more suggestible citizens that wandering a shopping mall parking lot for two hours in search of a free space is a laudable expenditure of time, fuel, and brain cells. While not actually freezing over, the occasional thin snow or hard frost puts paid to any vague hope that autumn might continue, even if said frost is followed the next day by temperatures more suited for Miami. Because of this, Dallas activities in December are particularly fervent, knowing that January cold and rain is coming, so it’s a matter of getting in everything before the end of the year.
In the time before the disappearance of St. Remedius Medical College, one of those must-attend events was the annual Fury Fiesta. In the years since werewolves and other so-called Children of the Neuri were accepted into popular society, the word “lycanthrope” became inadequate to cover the range of voluntary and involuntary shapeshifters on Earth. While Dallas was already known for its college mascot shifters, Fury Fiesta was a week-long celebration/brawl between those of more, well, smaller stature.
For those whose contact with Children of the Neuri mostly involved big predators such as wolves, bears, or sharks, it was easy to forget that gram for gram, many smaller animals were as dangerous or even more dangerous than big ones. Grasshopper mice. Roadrunners and mockingbirds. Snapping turtles. Mantids. Hummingbirds and sunbirds. Herons. Gila monsters and collared lizards. Bats and owls. Over the centuries, the ranks of shifter companion species increased and started moving more into invertebrates such as crabs, moths, and octopi, often just as much through technology as through thaumaturgy. While the running joke among viewings of the reality TV series The Outstanding Witch of the Year was with the number who claimed special powers after being bitten by a radioactive cheese beetle, the surprising aspect was with the number which took their traits from botflies, tongue-eating lice, or the barnacle Sacculina.
And that was the whole point of Fury Fiesta: getting the wildest extensions of the tribe together to compare notes. For a solid week, the streets of Dallas ran with shed fur, feathers, scales, exoskeletons, and clumps of mucus, as participants engaged in lectures from St. Remedius researchers on ways to eliminate or accelerate their transformations, joined competitions such as a Fun Run through the Deep Ellum area for heightened awareness, and often found love across species, orders, and even phyla. Most of all, they were always there for each other, as earwax vampires showing up outside participating hotels to mock ladybug shifters discovered to their detriment.
Since the disappearance of St. Remedius and the dispersal of its staff, Fury Fiesta only became larger and more active, leading to members moving into politics to preserve the Neuri way. When US Presidential candidate Gary Martinson stood at a podium to announce his intent to run, split his skin along his back, emerged with fresh scales and spines, and squirted blood from his eyes at Creative Onanism editor Michel “Milord” Kasparek before starting his first press conference, it was obvious that none of them were going back into the closet.
Want to get caught up on the St. Remedius story so far? Check out the main archive. Want more hints as to the history of St. Remedius Medical College? Check out Backstories and Fragments. Want to forget all of that and look at cat pictures from a beast who dreams of his own OnlyFans for his birthday? Check out Mandatory Parker. Questions, concerns, and disgust over generative AI? Check out Contact, Privacy Policy, and AI Policy. And feel free to visit the St. Remedius Medical College Redbubble shop for all of your Mandatory Parker needs.
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