longer.blue

a few days after the change the problem of hunger keeps getting more prominent. he quickly realized after the first day that a lot of regular food has become unpalatable to him- the more delicate digestive system of an obligate carnivore makes processing tougher vegetables more stomach-upsetting and there's only so many hot dogs in a day he can stand to eat. beyond that even if things taste the same as they did before it kind of feels like there's something missing, like when a dish is in need of a spice but you can't place which would complete it. so he's maybe not eating as much as he should, especially after the energy-intensive activity that is "your entire body morphing into a big bug's over the course of a minute or two" still going to work, obvs, and it's frustrating re-learning to type by inefficiently pecking at individual keys with his delicate little bug hands at the far ends of his forelimbs. but he's still, slowly, taking care of his usual batch of paperwork and emails in his office. and he keeps getting distracted. firstly by hunger- and the bizarre sensation of it being felt in his abdomen vice his torso- and secondly by his new sensory systems making the scuttler infestation in the plant about 1000% more annoying. his antennae keep twitching and he can sense all their little legs skittering around between the walls and outside his office and it's SO DISTRACTING and he's just getting more and more frustrated at being unable to focus on his work until finally one of the big stupid bugs crawls out from the wall across the floor of the office behind him and without thinking he swivels around, snatches it, and crushes it between the sharp spines on his forelimbs. and he stands there for a few moments realizing what happened before pointedly dumping the thing in the trash and avoiding the urge to clean the bug's body fluids off of his forelimbs with his mouth, and washes off in the bathroom. killing the thing did make him feel just a bit better, though, and after another few hours of getting nothing done he decides, fine, fuck it, he might as well try to deal with the scuttler problem while he has a good solution for it, try and put a positive spin on the situation since getting actual exterminators for the place has been fruitless. so he starts hunting the things down. they're not hard to catch, having become accustomed to avoiding far less effective human attacks vice a predator purpose-built for hunting down bugs. he's pointedly ignoring the overwhelming twinge in his gut when he crushes the wriggling bugs between his arms and focusing on the slight satisfaction of following at least some of his new instincts instead. isopods have this neat cute way of raising their young where they carry around the developing eggs and newly-hatched young like a marsupial, in a pouch on the underbelly. and peter becomes INTIMATELY aware of this fact when he grabs a scuttler by the flooded old break room and a slew of underdeveloped baby scuttlers fall out of it onto the floor. he reacts like one usually would, with revulsion at all the little skittering things spreading out and trying to get away, but the persistent hunger and the predator instincts in his brain at seeing fleeing, soft, bite-size, prey with their chitin yet to harden and it's not like there's anyone around to see and it finally gets the better of him and he skewers one on the pointed edge of his "hand"/tibia and lifts it. and new mobile palp-like parts around his eating slot that he hadn't even realized had developed bring it into his mouth and he lets himself finally eat enough of the things to actually feel full for the first time in days and absolutely no one else can find out about this, except for caroline who has a BIG laugh at him about it that evening. and perhaps finally there starts to be a sizeable dent in the plant's pest population