Solo Working old scars.

[Licearsvansan]

Summer 25th 513

Any mage could tell you that magic was a drug. It was a strange drug that could make a man ten times stronger than his fellows, but it was a drug all the same. And whether they wanted to admit it or not, they were all addicts. Including Svan.

Of course he never thought of himself as a mage. Morphing had always been a part of his kind. By his logic he was only unlocking further innate talents, and that varied greatly from the wizards who threw bolts of lightning from their fingertips. Morphing was natural, lightning fingers....not so much. Still, like any mage he felt the unescapable desire to push his magic to its very limits, regardless of the repercussions. However, while Svan often had such desires, he rarely followed them. It wasn't because of his incredible willpower, or his awe inspiring self restraint, but instead it was simply because he couldn't.

Years ago Svan had sustained a burn that covered his legs, and foolishly he had tried to use his morphing magic to heal the wound. Unaware of the repercussions of overgiving, Svan had pushed himself until his legs simply...broke.

He could walk, run and climb just like any other man, but the wound never completely healed. The muscles and bones had returned to normal, but a the scar remained, and not a healer Svan had met since then had been able to do anything about it. His flesh looks just the same as it had the day he had burnt it. Skin cracked and bear. Black and red with crispy dead flesh. Much of the dead skin had worn away with time, but the charred pattern remained. The scar however, was only part of the price of Svan's arrogance. Ever since then Svan had been unable to morph his legs, and any attempt to do so had been met with complete failure. Normally, he would quit early and move on with his day, if only a little slight bit more cynically than before. But every now and then, after a few too many drinks, he got bold and tried once again to do the impossible.

Today was one such day.

[Licearsvansan]

After having visited the towers last afternoon, Svan was feeling rather green with envy. Though that also was probably due to the tub of alcohol running through his system. He had spent most of the day trying to drown himself with beer in a failing attempt to forget just how horribly the other mages outclassed him. Especially the people in the twilight tower. He might as well have been doing card tricks his whole life compared to them. Still, it wasn't just the fact that they were better than him that bothered him. It was the fact that they would always be better than him. A good morpher was marked by his ability to do a full body transformation, and unless Svan found some unfortunate beast with human legs he would never be able to pull off such a feat.

The man swore loudly with his serpentine lisp doubling his slurred speech, and kicked a pebble as hard as he could with his damnable legs. After having finished with the bar he decided to take a walk on the city's borders. There were many beasts that could do him harm out here, especially while he was in his human form, but as long as he stayed close to the city the chance that he would encounter a beast large enough to give him trouble was low. He had finally regained enough sobriety on his long walk to walk in a straight line, but he was just drunk enough to think that what he was about to do was a good idea. As he reached a spot far enough removed from the bustle of the city's nighttime activity, he stopped walking, flung out his arms to his side, and fell straight back onto the ground. He hit the earth with a thud, and groaned at his decision not to lower himself more gently. After a moments pause to stop the sky from spinning, he spread out his limbs on the ground until his body was shaped like a star. Dull hazel eyes stared up towards the heavens above, and then, slowly, his eyelids closed shut. Svan lay there for a few chimes doing nothing but breathing. Then, after he finally felt confident that he could center himself, he began.

He moved his focus from his breath to the feeling of his hand. Blood slight warmer than the summer night's air courses through tan flesh. His opened and close his right hand slowly. He could feel his nails press lightly against his skin. Soft and round. The snake let out a relaxed breath and let that feeling dissolve. Touching the djed of his fingers he let it collapse and break down. Allowing the information of his soul to loose shape and meaning so that he could rebuild it. Cells collapsed and reformed in new places, different than before as Svan envisioned his hand slowly becoming that of hawk's talon. The soft skin and nail of his human fingers slowly grew hard and black. It felt strange, foriegn though Svan done this morph more times than he could count. This magic had similar effects to shifting into dhani form but the feelings were completely different. The dhani form felt similar to folding and unfolding his body. But this? This was changing his body in ways that it was never meant to be. Slowly, the morph began to finish and large black talons replaced his 'human' fingers.

In a matter of moments Svan was lying prone on the ground. He smacked his palms against the ground and quickly began doing push ups. After several chimes and far more push ups than a man his size should be capable of, the snake collapsed. His arms felt like jelly and his breath was ragged. Despite this he was back on his feet in a matter of ticks and soon doing squats. The slightest amount of sweat glistened from his body and he smiled as he looked at it. Dhani didn't sweat much, and when they did it meant that they were really working hard. Still it wasn't enough. Svan could still feel his legs after his squats were done, which meant that he needed to do more. Without even stopping to catch a breath Svan shot off into the night, sprinting full speed until addrenalin flowed though him like a river, and he couldn't feel his legs any longer.

It was a dumb plan, but it was the only one he had.

[Licearsvansan]

Several bells later Svan was leaning heavily against a large boulder. His skin glistened with sweat, and his breath was out of control. He was taking great gulps of air and breathing them back out like a typhoon. Unable to stand any longer, the snake slowly let his body slide down the side of the rock until friction gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. With a groan Svan rolled over onto his back. His entire body, especially his legs, had gone numb. He could barely feel anything beyond the aching desire to fill his lungs with desperately needed oxygen. It was just as he had hoped.

With addrenalin surging through his veins any pain he felt would be numbed, and if it was numbed then just maybe he could fight through it. Svan closed his eyes and touched the center of his djed one again. This time he sent the energy directly to his legs since he didn't know how long the addrenalin would last, and he wanted it at its peak when he tried this. As the djed coursed through his legs and into his toes he felt the familiar burn of his scars. However, he thought it felt as if the adrenaline was working to numb it. Soon the djed had pooled into his toes, and began to soak into his flesh. He imagined cat claws again, and slowly the claws began to take shape. As he reached the point where he had failed earlier, he tensed up, but this time he was able to contain the morph. In a couple chimes Svan had two sets of cat-like claws on his feet. He always liked those claws. While they lacked the holding power of a raptors talons, the made up for it with better clawing ability. Not to mention the fact that unlike most animals claws, a cat's were retractable.

Satisfied with his success, Svan allowed the morph to undo itself and let his Djed rest. However, just as his djed was crossing back through his legs a crazy idea struck Svan. With the boon of the numbing effects of both alcohol and adrennalin in his system he might be able to fight through the pain, and morph his actual legs. Svan held the djed in his limbs and let it sit there for a moment. Once again the feeling of fire running through his blood returned and he breathed in a pained breath. As he exahaled his body shuddered, but he continued to keep the djed in place. After half a chime Svan found the strength of will to continue further into the process, and soon the djed began to trickle and soak into his flesh. The pain that was already incredible turned crippling in a moment, and Svan whimpered in pain. His teeth grit tightly as he slowly forced the djed to sink into his limbs. The pain was comparable to having someone cut off his legs with a tabasco sauce coated saw. Still, he had to do it. He was so close, and if he could pass this one obstacle now, then he would be able to do it again in the future.

Finally, after after what seemed like an eternity Svan realized he was ready for the final step. The djed was in place and his body was ready to be twisted into its new form. Svan imagined something simple, his own scales laid out evenly over the surface of his leg. He had done scales dozens of times before and he knew exactly how they felt and should be. It would be perhaps the easiest morph he could ever do. Svan lay still with his legs blazing in pain, and fought for one last inch of courage to push himself into the final step. Finding it, he took a deep breath, gathered his strength, and began to shift his skin.

The pain was immeasurable. In a single instant it seemed as if every nerve in his leg cried out bloody murder. His very soul shook in agony, and he screamed out at the top of his lungs. As he involentarily arched himself into the air, the djed he had worked so hard to gather in his legs scattered. Moments later Svan lay on the ground, shaking uncontrollably from the pain, and tears streamed down his face. There were no words to acurately describe what he had felt. How does one properly convey the feeling of having one's soul come inches away from snapping? He wasn't sure if that was exactly what it was he had felt, but it certainly had seemed that way. Eventually as the tears stopped falling, and his mind began to wonder and question. What could have happened if he hadn't stopped? Would he have succeeded, or would he have lost his legs entirely? He wasn't sure, but he knew one thing. The chance that it would permanently cripple both him and his magic was enough for him to swear that he wouldn't ever try it again.

Probably.

[Elysium]

Svan,

As much as I'd like to, I can't rightfully grade this. You have a few misconceptions about Morphing that warrant you modifying this thread.

First of all, scar tissue would not be painful to morph. It'd certainly be more difficult, but the idea is that djed is not mana. It's literally the core component of everything. Rather than Svan moving the djed into his legs or his toes, he'd have to go through the process of locating the djed for his legs or toes and then altering it, much like reshaping a ball of clay. The more detail you add about the process of visualizing and separating his mental and physical djed, then accessing the area of the body he needs to and slowly molding it, the more points I can grant you. But in no way do those scars handicap him to an impossible degree.

Likewise, it helps to describe the tactile sensations of growing claws. Does it itch? Is there a strange pressure to it?

Trust me, I got this same talk from Mirage once upon a time. She made me an expert. Shoot me a message when you've fixed it!

Elysium
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