The selection of people that prosecutor Simon Blackquill could be found to let his guard down around was quite small.
The seven years he'd spent in prison had led him to develop a nearly unbreakable outer mask of intimidation, and it was all that most people would see of the man.
Only those closest to him saw the caring -- if still naturally imposing -- man beneath.
He'd traded places with his older sister in the months since his exoneration, taking in his own freedom while the roboticist Aura Blackquill was sentenced to two years in prison for the actions she'd taken to have his trial reconsidered.
Aura was a model prisoner, and the leniency of her sentence allowed her to occasionally be given a few hours of the afternoon to freely leave the prison in the company of her younger brother.
This afternoon in particular saw the two siblings approaching the small house that Aura had lived in before her arrest, which Simon had claimed after the fact. Athena was planning to visit them as well, as she hoped to work on improving her rocky relationship with Aura.
The prosecutor picked up his mail on the way in. Aura immediately headed for the bathroom upon entering. Simon took a seat at the table to sort through his mail.
A package addressed to him had arrived. The front bore the logo of a business he recalled passing by in the city a few times. When he opened the package, he found it to contain only a small spherical object what looked to be a button on the front.
He looked the object over for a moment before dismissively setting the package aside and moving to set the sphere on the tabletop. When it touched the table, it made a small clicking noise and without further warning, released a sort of liquid spray in his direction. Almost instantly as the liquid touched his skin, Simon felt something was felt wrong.
He took a hold on the side of the table, only to find it slackening on its own as he felt his hand moving on the surface.
He was getting smaller.
"What the hell..."
In just the moments Simon took to get the words out, he'd already lost a foot and a half of his towering height.
His reduction continued for several more seconds. He vaguely heard the sound of a door opening somewhere behind him, but his focus was on himself at the moment.
When at last he seemed to stop, the prosecutor was standing in the shadow of his chair, barely a few inches tall.
He spun around when he heard a sound of footsteps halting behind him. A towering figure stood high over him. He stared upward in disbelief.
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