Practise Makes Perfect (closed)

[Chamaeleon]

Spring 23rd, 512 A.V

A breeze stirred the trees and whispered across the grass before ghosting fingers through her long hair. She shivered as it trailed across the back of her neck. Goosebumps raised across her bare forearms and she chuckled to herself. The magical world of the night was impossibly lovely, and incredibly cool. However, she had no desire to think of merely the magical night at this moment.

Her long lashes dusted her high cheeks as they lowered over the violet irises. She turned inward, inspecting herself closely as she delved into her mind and turned over her thoughts to get to a single set of memories from her time in Syliras, brief though it was. The heart of djed that pumped restlessly within her body. Tangled veins knotted through her body, side by side with those from her heart.

She grasped this heart of pulsing energy and reached blindly for a memory of something pleasant within her past. The image she summoned forth was a full-bodied Svefra with the bluest eyes and a fiery tangle of hair. The woman she envisioned was the one who brought her to Sunberth so few days ago. The memory was blurred at times, indistinct where the fine details escaped her. The fine details didn't matter though.

Chamaeleon was most familiar with the woman's face. The texture of the hair, the softness of the lips, the facets within the blue eyes. She locked her attention on those features until she lost all notice of the outside world. She obsessed over them.

Chamaeleon squeezed the heart of djed, tightened her mental grip upon it and wrung it. She did this while clinging to the woman she longed for and focused her entire being upon it.

The moon watched, still and silent in his inevitable dance across the sky.

Black hair lost its midnight sheen and became the rust colour of dried blood. A face comprised of more angles than roundness lost the sharpness and softened, the lips growing more fuller. Narrow eyebrows thickened, bones reset, and when Chamaeleon pried her lids open, a blue gaze sparkled in the moonlight instead of a violet one.

For the first time, Chamaeleon beheld the world of the night as a normal human would. The shadows were darker, less superficial, and everything gained a mystic look.

But it was uncomfortable, and Chamaeleon imagined her head looking odd on her still Symenestra body. She wrung the djed again and pulled the unfamiliar features from her face, experiencing a disgusting feeling as her own crawled in place and she returned to her Symenestra beauty.

When she next opened her eyes, they were violet again and her sight was as clear as it normally was and she could feel the weight of her black hair upon her back. A smirk curved her lips and she felt a stir of victory as she realised she had succeeded in what she desired.

The night was even more beautiful after that.

[Lusa]

It was a beautiful night. Lusa had taken to her animal form tonight; it was rare now that she got to stay in it for any significant amount of time, and she missed it dearly. She had left her things back in her room tonight, and now she was bounding free throughout the darkness. It wasn't very dark to her in this form, however. Large, dark eyes took in as much light as possible, letting her see with a clarity she wouldn't have in human form. Normally it would be unsafe to run about Sunberth alone and unarmed at night; but she was confident that her hooves could outrun most thugs who might have attacked her. She had been bounding in happy circles in the cool night air, enjoying the smell of the grass crushed beneath her dainty cloven hooves, when she came upon a woman sitting alone. She seemed to be concentrating intensely, but on what Lusa could not tell. She crept closer, ever so slowly, using the cloak of night and her dusty brown fur to hopefully keep her camouflaged. Was the woman sick? Something seemed to be happening to her face! Before her eyes it was changing, becoming softer, pinker, and her hair! Lusa didn't know whether to sprint away or investigate further. When the pale woman started changing back, Lusa huffed in relief. The other head hadn't fit on the woman's body. Inching forward, she extended her nose to the woman, and sniffed delicately; the thin woman's smell reminded her of cobwebs.

[Chamaeleon]

When Chamaeleon opened her eyes and there was a deer there, she couldn't help but lean backwards and gasp in shock. If took her a moment to realise that what stood before her was a doe, a kindhearted animal that wouldn't harm her willingly, and not some insane man who saw her face change and decided she had to die for her blatant witchcraft.

Chamaeleon reached out one long, delicate, clawed hand. She hoped her startled sound hadn't frightened away the pretty animal. She held her hand out to the doe, offering her hand for inspection with a friendly smile upon her face.

"Aren't you a pretty girl!" She exclaimed softly, not wanting to disturb the quiet further and really draw people to see what the commotion was about. "Why are you in Sunberth..? It's a dangerous place." She didn't mind that the doe probably couldn't understand her. It was nice to pretend she had someone to speak to in this chill night.

Chamaeleon kept her hand out, waiting for the doe to inspect her and decide she was safe, or to bound into the safety of trees, hoping she would decide to stay so Chamaeleon could pet her.

[Wrenmae]

"Too dangerous," A voice interrupted her, "Especially to be practicing magic." Shroud strode from the night, cape billowing out behind him, buffeted by the errant breezes. He wore a scowl, a clear fit for his face, and ignored the animal entirely on his approach to Chameleon. She was one of his, a prospect he had recommended to the Crimson Edge. While beautiful, by night she was the eerie and long armed Symnestra, a creature of slight proportion...not nearly curvy enough to boil Shroud's blood, but delicate enough to arouse his interest. But there she had been, practicing morphing in the light of the moon, in the public. With witches and hunts the whispered conviction of the city, especially in the wake of the storm. This was nothing short of foolish, ludicrous, suicidal. "Fool," He growled, shooing a hand out at the doe dismissively, "Had you been seen by anyone but me, a mob may have been raised for your head! If you're going to practice magic, do it somewhere prying eyes cannot intrude." He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Follow me back to camp, to my tent. Once we are away from the others, we can share technique...you're cultivating a useful skill, and we can learn from each other." Turning, throwing up his arms, Shroud moved toward the road...still sighing. Oh the foolishness of people...lucky fate had intervened.

[Chamaeleon]

Well, Wrenmae seemed very displeased.

Chamaeleon raised her fine black eyebrows at the seemingly irate human, but rose to her feet as it was. She had not failed to notice that the human had a certain charm and persuasion around him, but even so she didn't have it in her to risk arousing his anger by drawing out the encounter with teasing words about his scowl.

"Lead on then, Wrenmae," she smiled at him. Her fangs glinted most menacingly in the moonlight as her lips parted, but the display was purely coincidental. She had no use for intimidating someone she had begun to really like. It wasn't everyday that she met someone with as much charm as Wrenmae. "You complain a lot, don't you?" She said to him, merely to observe his reaction, still as polite as ever. She strode over to walk next to him, wondering about the doe still. Had they scared it off? What an unusual way to encounter a wild animal.

[Lusa]

Lusa sniffed irritatedly at Wrenmae's appearance. She had almost begun her investigation of the woman and he came and ruined it. She had even gotten petted! She was now in a crabby mood. She resolved to follow them back to the campsite. Wrenmae was a man she just couldn't figure out, and perhaps if she followed them and listened in, she could learn something about both of them. She had learned from Zandelia that information could be useful. Perhaps she would make it into a game! She would pretend to be Zandelia gathering intelligence! To better imitate her near idol, she squinted one eye shut as she followed behind the two. The expression looked quite silly on her deer face, but she didn't care. She kept at what she assumed was a sneaky distance, which was likely not sneaky at all.

[Wrenmae]

He walked along the road, quiet footsteps among the brief squeals of interruption in the night. Death, life, struggle...it all played out its quiet drama along the streets. Tomorrow new life would seep in and fill the gaps where the dead now moldered. Vayt. If he ever had a place to live, why not here? Such beauty in their struggles. Dirty and angry a thousand souls strove against each other to simply stand on unstable ground. Sunberth may have been established for something entirely different, but it had become a cage without bars, forcing wild dogs to tear at each other's throats until only one bloody mongrel remained. The strongest. Personally, Shroud tried not to think about the deer following them. It was too confusing to assume they were being spied on by a sentient herbivore. Besides, if it got too close or bothered him much more, he'd hypnotize and murder it, feast on its flesh after a brief opportunity for morphing. "If I complain," he snapped, turning a leery gaze on the Symenestra, "It's because fools like yourself lack the basic grasp on survival. Sunberth is petrified of magic...they're hunting for Djed users and you have the audacity to morph your head in a park." He sighed, picking up the pace and passing along the line of tents, "In the future, be more careful. I'm not your guardian, but a dead mercenary is of no use to us...so you're better still breathing." He paused in front of the tent, opening the flap and staring back at the deer. "No," he said, directing his words at it sharply, "You are not welcome here. Prey should run and hide, not curiously follow. Ware well that you're in a wolves den now." Stepping inside the tent, he could barely stand, electing to crouch instead, finally sitting. Ana was out, likely with a friend. Just as well...Shroud had no use for the girl anyways. He indicated a place opposite him for Chameleon to sit and sighing, took off his shirt and ran a hand through his hair, blinking in the darkness. "Symenestra have always fascinated me," he confessed, offering his hand, "With your permission, I'd like to acquire a similar shape." Leaning back against the material, it felt cool on his flesh. "You can work with a human model. Cultivating disguises is the purpose of morphing. If we finish with ourselves and the deer is still outside, we can expand our repertoire. What's the point in having magic if you aren't ambitious about it?"

[Izaya]

Izaya had just been wandering through the city when he heard a quiet conversation that had intrigued him. The people in the city had grown hateful and suspicious of magicians of any kind. Izaya didn't doubt that if you so much as showed a conjurer's trick on the street you would be tried and then burned at the stake. So it was quite a stoke of luck to find not one, but two magicians wandering the streets. When people had something to hide, it made them that much easier to manipulate. He followed the sound for a while, only stopping when he could see the two enter into a tent in a line of them. Curiously enough, there was also a deer following them. Izaya ignored it and crept up to the tent, as close as he could get. He was curious what two djed-users were doing together, talking so openly about their abilities in a city like this. And when he was curious, well, nothing was going to stop him from finding out. As he tip-toed over to the tend, he stopped for a moment to pat the surprisingly tame deer on the head, finding to his surprise that when he did, he felt thick, ancient magic in it's Aura. He didn't want to waste any energy focusing on it, so he simply assumed the most problematic--that it was some sort of intelligent being in the form of a deer, perhaps a Kelvic. Without losing his smile, he brought a finger to his lips, gesturing for the deer--or whoever it was--to remain quiet. He though about using Hypnotism on it, but then thought better of it. If it chose to be a problem, then he'd try it. What mattered to him more was who and what the magicians were that he had overheard. He put his ear up to the tent to try and here part of their conversation. His smiled widened. Two Morphers? Thinking of trying to take the shape of a deer? And one of them a Symnestra? Even more curious, they didn't seem to realize that the deer was also probably eavesdropping just as he was. This was proving to be quite interesting. He just needed to think of a way to make some profit off of this. Blackmail would be too...pedestrian.

[Chamaeleon]

The deer followed them. Chamaeleon could hear her footsteps over her own soft ones, the clicking of hooves resounding through the false calm. The creature was much more sentient than Chamaeleon had realised, or her instincts were just underdeveloped and she didn't know she was in danger. Maybe Wrenmae saw her as with the same underdeveloped instincts as the deer.

"Maybe you should lighten up, Wrenmae. If fools like me decide to make a scene, accidentally or not, then maybe you'll just be hurting yourself trying to keep us from permanent damage." She had to fight the urge to stock out her tongue at him and display her own level of maturity grandly. He was irritated as it was. She was wise enough to know not to push him too far. A man of words he may be, but she was sure he had his own actions underneath.

As he entered the tent, she waited. The deer didn't seem inclined to move, and she wasn't partial to shooing it away as well, or scolding it like the human had just done. She turned her attention from the animal and ducked into the tent, stooping just slightly before taking a seat facing Wrenmae and watching through cool, amethyst eyes as he removed his shirt and eyes.

The human had a nice body, but she wasn't one to go into a panic attack at seeing naked people. She simply ran her eyes across the exposed expanse of his chest before looking at his hand as though if were a foreign object and registering his words.

"How would you acquire a shape like my own?" She asked. What she had become that night was only due to her focus upon her memory. Was he going to memorize her then?

She reached out, offering him her black tipped hand slowly. It was good to know that he hadn't brought her here to kill her for stupidity, but that didn't change the fact she was in the tent of a near stranger.

[Wrenmae]

He took her hand gently, running his fingers along the black lacquer claws, the pale white skin. It was surprisingly rough on the pads of her fingers and palms, not at all what he imagined. But there was the point, the definition of shape changing itself was knowing the body one was to take intimately. He pulled the hand up roughly, peering by the filtered moonlight at its contours. Something allowed the Symenestra to climb walls as easily as their arachnid cousins...but what? The roughness, he couldn't isolate it. It was something like hair...hooks maybe? It would make sense, thousands of tiny filaments sticking to the walls to hold the creature up. By reputation, the Symenestra were brittle. They'd have to be...light bones and nimble form the only way they could climb with such alacrity. He caressed along her arm, felt the bones through her skin, leaned forward and put a hand on her face, memorizing her eyes. He paid special attention to the length of the arms, slightly longer than his own and nimble as snakes. For almost ten minutes he examined her in silence, his dark eyes focused on every inch of her body, pushing and prodding with the detached interest of a scientist. There was nothing intimate about his probing, simply curiosity. Leaning back, he removed his leggings as well, leaving him completely naked in the darkness. A slant of moonlight permeated the tent top, bathing his arm in silver light. Beneath it, he held one arm and turned it, focusing. Djed rose within him, seeping into his skin, leeching the color away first, adopting the same languid pallor in Chameleon. Next it lengthened, became supple, the flesh twisting and moving of its own accord, his nails slicing out of his fingers, black and narrow, the claws of the Symenestra. The wall climbing was tricky, perhaps too tricking to try at once. Instead, he focused on the cosmetic changes, warping his narrow chest narrower, his eyes the dusky red of her own, longer, lither, better than they were before. His bones grew brittle within his body, the mass relocated elsewhere for height and to fill in other necessary areas. As he was using a female model, his male imitation was girlish, even by the Symenestra standards. He was tempted to take her shape in completely, make the jump of gender as well as species...but perhaps such a wide change could be saved for later. The change itself took nearly ten more minutes of careful manipulation to achieve, and the new Symenestra cracked his neck in the darkness, smiling. His change was not entirely due to coincidence. Ordinarily the process would have taken longer, but he'd had time to meet another Symenestra before...and a few more in recent times. Their shapes were familiar to him now, granting him the edge necessary to finally acquire a model...even if it wasn't a perfected one yet. "Let go of your identity, and the world opens up." Shroud said in his own voice, sighing, "And by letting go of your identity, I don't mean your intelligence...I don't think you'd need any prompting for that loss." He was grinning, not angry at all, exultant. He'd even forgotten about the deer outside. "Be careful though," He cautioned, winking, "Always remember who you were...or you may never return."