Chapter 11 - 2.1: waist wrecker

Cinnamon let out a sigh as she glanced at the four empty plates stacked on her table. All four had been polished so cleanly she could see her soft features in their reflections. She had tried to curb it by going to a coffee shop, but in typical Cinnamon luck the place sold scones. Though she couldn’t help but think four scones wouldn’t have seemed all that weird for a girl her size to be eating anyways. Hidden beneath an oversized sweater and struggling sweat pants Cinnamon’s figure had softened considerable. Gone were the days when she might’ve been generously referred to as out of shape. Buried beneath a gain so large she found herself worried about even guessing a number. Her face had softened into a pair of cherubic features. Resting above breasts that had thickened and plumped up with her recent growth spurt. Though still only large enough to accentuate the roundness of the rest of her body. With soft hips generous hips and a proportionately plump rear, that was big but not enough to distract from the rest of her fatter frame. But the true crown jewel of Cinnamon’s body was of course her belly. The round super powered orb that had expanded and taken the most of her gains. Now big and jiggly enough to rest on her lap and hang over any pair of jeans she could squeeze herself into. In spite of its girth still practically spherical in its soft constitution.

Ironically it hadn’t just been the major calorie dumps from having her super powered capacity pushed to the brink. Her figure had left those situations only marginally thicker for them. Perhaps a testament to quite how strange her metabolism had become. Even the old cravings that had her ordering takeout 7 days a week had died down. Most of her recent gains were a result of situations like the one she found herself in. In just the span of two hours she had eaten a not inconsiderable amount of food without even thinking about it. The issue was that unless she really focused, she couldn’t even tell. Her stomach felt the same way after four scones as it did between meals. Not hungry, but still nowhere near like it had been fed a full meal. The red head glared down at her middle and poked it a little bit. “I’m not ordering another one” she told it and herself. Hoping her insistence would make it stick in her mind.

Though she reasoned that it made sense she was eating more than usual, she was almost certainly stress eating a little. Not just due to what was going on what with her body, but also because of the product of her recent research. Though to call it research would be generous. It was mostly googling. Searching for terms like GAST or other cases of food related abilities. Unfortunately for Cinnamon googling either of those terms had gotten her nowhere useful. GAST just got her references to ghosts or enemies from video games. Food Related abilities only got her some admittedly impressive videos of people at eating contests. Though it was hard to be in awe of their athletic abilities when she would’ve eaten what was on their plates, their competitor's plates and probably most of the table they were eating off before she’d had to stop. In fact, it seemed nothing from Katia was any use. At least around the more niche terms.

She had been avoiding the obvious lead. Not because it hadn’t occurred to her. But because she was somewhat worried about what exactly she’d do once the rabbit hole was open. She wanted answers but it seemed her situation was more serious than her constitution was made for. Katia had basically taken out a building looking for answers. Cinnamon meanwhile was still battling and probably losing against the task of getting a degree. Not to mention Robbie. Who’d probably be at least dragged along by association even though he and his brother were innocent. Some part of her wanted to believe that it was that noble reason she had been avoiding him. It had been a fair share of days and even though they had exchanged numbers she had been dodging his calls. It was easier to believe it was out of some melodramatic urge to protect him than the real reason. Which was simply that she was self-conscious about the fact she had put on weight and none of her nice clothes actually fit her anymore. Not to mention the fact she had been bigger than some full-sized heifers during their big two “moments” together.

But the more she debilitated on Robbie and her predicament the clearer the path seemed to become. He was a restaurant co-owner and she was a food critic. If some clandestine villainous corporation was going to be pumping people full of some substance that made them fatter hunger, and physics bending abilities that was going to affect everyone. Her resolve steeled Cinnamon turned her attention to the waitresses and half paying attention ordered another scone before typing L-Corp into google. The screen almost immediately flooding with a variety of results seemingly from all over the internet. As far as Cinnamon could tell at a first glance though they were a fairly normal food conglomerate. In charge of producing and researching food. Seemingly mostly known on the internet for their lewd mascot and sarcastically clever social media presence. But Cinnamon was fairly certain it couldn’t have been a coincidence. That Katia would mention the name of an actual food conglomerate to do with a seemingly very food related problem. So, Cinnamon utilized a bit of her researching skills. If you wanted to find out if a restaurant had a scandal you don’t go to the restaurants own page. You look for where they’ve been mentioned in other places. The process took a very short duration. The time it took her to finish a scone and order another before finally spawning her a lead.

It was blog post, entirely in Cyrillic and almost entirely indecipherable to the chubby American who had attempted but failed to learn Spanish in high school. It wasn’t until she gave it a run through google translate that she found the real gold. The blog post talked about the release of some russian criminal. A scientist by the name Anastasia Zhir. Seemingly a generational talent in all things biological or chemical. While dabbling in robotics. She had seemingly been involved in a number of scandals including one in particular that google couldn’t seem to translate. But it was easy to infer from the others it probably had something to do with skirting traditional scientific ethics. The depth of her errors should’ve been enough to keep her in jail, even by Russian standards as far as Cinnamon could tell. But the blogger postulated some big money must’ve gone into getting her out of trouble, probably American money based on the fact no Russian company would trust her. It didn’t take a huge leap for Cinnamon determine which corporation it would be. Before the red head could actually process the information, her screen was closed from behind. “Hey Ginger, sup with you” a familiar and smooth voice asked Cinnamon from over her shoulder. The chubby girl almost jumping out of her skin out of shock. Before she could even respond the spare seat at her table was occupied. Layla had obviously forgotten about personal boundaries for the umpteenth time.

Layla Smith was the universities resident security guard. A natural red head, she was a fire cracker of a stereotype. Passionate and alethic she was far too tall for most guys, which was perfectly fine with her. Rumor had it the six-pack bearing badass had tried to join the actual police force but got a bit too attached to her teacher. Based on her crush and tendency to tease Cinnamon was fairly certain it was a situation she had learned nothing from. Not that Cinn really minded. The brusque girl was gorgeous not to mention the only person who seemed overtly interested in her in that way. It was just that she was fairly sure she didn’t swing that way, not that Layla really seemed to mind. Clad in tight jogging attire and shining with thin lines of sweat it didn’t really leave a lot to be imagined what she had been up too before arriving.

“You know your sort of the last person I’d suspect to make a red head line” Cinnamon asked her managing to get the words out. She was usually able to communicate with the guard so long as she kept the sexy to a sizzle. Once the heat actually turned up Cinnamon tended to lose her ability to vocalize much of anything. “Technically it’s a pun on the fact your name is a spice” the guard shot back with a chuckle grabbing up Cinnamon’s scone before her powers could swallow it down. The fatter red head barely able to muster a squeak. She had probably had enough anyways. “Anyways I’m not just here to admire those rosy cheeks of yours, I’m just making sure you’re okay?” The taller girl asked direct to the point as usual. “Yeah why, why I wouldn’t I be?” Cinnamon asked well aware of the many many possible answers to that question. “Well it’s just I’ve been catching a lot of people out at night on campus claiming to be delivering stuff to you…though now that I’ve got a closer look at how much you’ve put on I’ve realized they’re probably telling the truth” Layla explained seeming to visually poke and prod at Cinnamon’s softer frame. Cinnamon feeling like she was close to passing out both from the attention and the embarrassment. “Oh...well I was just thinking of taking up jogging, you know to burn off calories, just going now” Cinnamon managed to get out taking her laptop under arm before literally fleeing the conversation. “Then you’re going to need a sports bra, and maybe only ordering one instead of eight of these, we should do it together sometime” Layla called over the soft girls shoulder with a wink. Leaving Cinnamon with a half-smile buried beneath all the embarrassment.