Roberto continued ignoring Tasha's threats, convinced that it had to be a bluff, even as he was being escorted into the chamber. He did have something of a point. While this little loophole did get around any sort of major human rights violations, at least as far current legal precedents were concerned. Odds of a judge accepting any testimony obtained under these conditions though were pretty slim. Tasha was fairly confident however that acting as an anonymous informant "Roberta" here would be forthcoming enough that if they had to let her walk at the end of the day, it would still be worth it. And talk she did. After becoming a rabbit, she spilled every bit of information she knew. Tasha didn't even need to promise to return her to her previous self as incentive, just growl and flash some teeth. Afterwards, she was sent to join the regular rabbit population of the park. It was about as secure as a prison cell would have been, and the sexist creep would learn a thing or two. With any luck, she'd have a good enough time in there, she wouldn't even try and bring this unusual means of questioning up in court.
Generally, the pieces were starting to fall into place on this whole investigation. A team had caught another harpy a few hundred miles south of the park. She'd had a mate that escaped into the woods, but he'd have to turn up sooner or later. From the two they'd had a chance to study, their template was very specifically designed for tropical climates, and the plumage was much more colorful than anything you'd normally find on a bird of that size, especially the male. Each had been carrying a briefcase which held a number of thumb drives and written documents that explained quite a lot of what had been going on at that lab. They'd had to consult with the park's specialists to make sense of it, and a fair chunk of it had been damaged beyond readability either during their capture or possibly in some earlier incident, given the waterlogged nature of one case. Still, it painted quite the ugly picture. Those in charge of this operation would be going away for some serious human rights violations. That is, once they could find them. The harpies were clearly on staff given what they were carrying, but they could only identify the one they didn't have in custody. Tran Nguyen, which followed, based on how some of this research was credited.
The harpy they had was something of a Jane Doe. It wasn't so much that she was unwilling to talk as she was unable. She'd screamed about Tran and a few other things when they first brought her in, but between how much of a panic she flew into on being captured and the effect this form apparently had on the brain under the best of circumstances, Tasha wasn't even sure if she knew her own name. She'd have liked to give her a similar treatment to the Minotaur, and get her into a form that wasn't so debilitating, but surprise surprise, she was apparently pregnant. At least this one would be laying eggs. Hopefully the wait wouldn't be as long. In the meantime, there were only a few female researchers at the lab by all accounts, so they'd hopefully be able to jog her memory and identify who they were dealing with.
That, really, was the big problem with all of this. They easily had enough evidence and witnesses to convict everyone involved in this whole mess, but there was almost nobody they could actually arrest. The entire staff at that offsite facility was missing besides this Jane Doe harpy, although some were bound to turn up given the unusual forms they were apparently using to flee the scene. They had the Minotaur in custody, and he clearly had his hands dirty with some of this, but it would take quite a few therapy sessions to tell if the mush-brain routine was an act or he was mentally competent enough to go to trial. Ironically, the only people they could both track down and make a solid case against were the ones trying to plea bargain. That Gunther creep, and that scum bag Vinny. That, at least, was a straightforward matter. He was clearly in violation in violation of the law before all these sticky issues of involuntary transformation and voluntary sex slavery came into it. There wasn't much of a case for his underlings though. Chad had been the only one who seemed close to being properly in on that plan, and her current state made it pretty clear she was in the dark on the major details.
The clear conclusion Tasha was drawing from all this was that this sort of technology really wasn't the sort of thing civilians should be handling without government oversight. This was too much power for anyone to have without some checks and balances, and it was entirely too easy to go underground with a new identity. The case Sherman and Johnson were working would establish that precedent soon enough. Tasha just hoped it would stop at that. She knew there were plenty of people in Washington who'd prefer a full on ban on all the technology involved. She was way too big a proponent of anthro rights to want to see that happen.
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Meanwhile, Sherman and Johnson returned from their assignment. Johnson was rather surprised at how much Sherman seemed to appreciate his new body. He wasn't sure how he felt about having a pig for a partner suddenly, but at least it seemed he was loosening up a bit. Not to mention coming out of the closet. As far as he could tell, Sherman's logic was that he'd been brought up to believe he should only pursue romantic relationships with men, and this resolved the conflict to his satisfaction. Of course, now the problem was he was sharing entirely too much of his personal life... particularly the more intimate details.
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Charlotte found herself increasingly happy with life as a mermaid while she and Naomi waited for the truck and harness needed to restore them. Initially she'd been worried about her career and her home, but these bodies had proven to be extremely self-sufficient. They could easily catch all the food they needed, travel up and down the coastline with ease as the weather changed, and had no particular need for any sort of shelter. Boredom would be the only real obstacle to deal with, but just from trying to vary her diet, she was starting to develop quite the interest in studying marine biology. She also had to admit she'd become outright hooked on the sex. By the time the truck finally arrived, she felt no real desire to return to being a wolf. It would just be a question of convincing Naomi somehow.
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Brian meanwhile still felt he was in over his head. The stags, mercifully, were finally preparing to leave the park. Apparently, most intended to keep their current forms on the outside, and most had a dedicated doe willing to come along. Surprisingly, two such does hadn't even been former stags themselves, just other guests of the park who'd somehow been sucked into all the macho posturing. As for Brian, he still hadn't been able to shake the pair of does who had apparently taken it upon themselves to act as his personal miniature harem. Nor had he made much headway in teaching them some proper independence. At least he'd managed to get them using more dignified names, even if they insisted he be the one to choose them. Cheryl sounded a bit more grown up than Cherry, and after giving up on finding something that fit her personality, or the old identity she seemed so keen on burying, the other eventually came to be called Pamela. While both were still entirely too clingy, he at least convinced them to busy themselves elsewhere when the support group was meeting. Having them fawn over him was quite intimidating to those who had recently become female and feared exactly this sort of shift in attitude... of course it only meant they were that much more determined to throw themselves at him at night.
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Irene and Lawrence meanwhile had already left the park. While the huskies were rather conflicted over the matter, ultimately it was easier to move on without having to see them and their constant public displays of affection. The plan, apparently, was to simply walk across the country, living off the land, preaching Irene's strange new philosophy to those would would listen, eventually heading towards the grand canyon to pass their days gliding about. The park was quite insistent they return once Irene's pregnancy was farther along however. Theirs was a new template, and there were particular concerns about complications arising from the wings during the eventual delivery.
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Terry was slowly coming back to her old self. Or, her new old self, at any rate. She certainly didn't seem to have any interest in confronting anyone with questions, and she wouldn't voluntarily even approach the exit of the warren, but she was certainly being more sociable, and throwing herself into her passion for, well, passion. As the days passed, some of the rabbits she'd gotten to know came to the end of their vacations, which she didn't take well at all. If it were up to her, the whole of the warren would stay here together forever, where it was warm and safe, and everyone just seemed to love each other. In particular, she was starting to obsess a bit over Tim, constantly worrying about him being attacked by "vicious dogs" and begging him not to leave her when he went to help gather food from outside.
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As they pulled up to the park, Wendy turned to Chuck. "So again, try not to be too surprised if Terry's a bit... friendlier than usual."
"Well, that's kind of the idea isn't it? Documenting how long term exposure to all this messes with the guests' heads and all."
"Yeah," Wendy couldn't help but think back to how little time it had taken for her own attitudes to shift on her previous visit. "And if they do let us take the cameras in, make sure not to film anyone who doesn't sign off on it. It's a bit like shooting at a nude beach after all."
"Right, right. I still can't believe they don't let guests in unaltered though. It doesn't hurt going through the whole process there, does it?"
"Not really... it's a bit hard to describe, honestly."