Solo Different Shapes

[Asterope]

1st of spring, 520 AV
After sunset

Aster was laying in bed, enjoying the warmth of the last few rays of the sun that were streaming in through the window. She was relaxed after the day she'd had being pampered. The sunflower she'd bought on the way back to the inn rested on the desk across from the bed, bright yellow petals a needed spot of colour.

She could feel sunset approaching; she always felt when it was nearing, on a deep, instinctual level. She'd gotten used to the slightly altered shift as well, the brief pause where she could focus on what form she wanted. But something was different this time. Aster sat up as she felt the warmth rushing through her body, watching the faint glow envelop her skin and then vanish. Something was different. Something was wrong. Again.

Aster stood up and immediately felt the difference in her height. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she stared down at her body, pale and somewhat lanky and entirely unfamiliar. Not again. Aster made a clumsy dash for the door, making her way down to the lobby, approaching the desk.

She hadn't bothered to come down to the lobby during the night hours before, so it was jarring to see a horned woman standing behind the desk, as Aster realized that Pashina was an Ethaefal. She nearly tripped, not simply because she was uncertain of her new body again, but because of her shock. But she had bigger things to worry about. "Do you have a mirror I can borrow, Pashina? I'll bring it back," Aster asked. The Ethaefal arched an eyebrow, but motioned for her to wait a second as she left to fetch one, returning with a hand mirror.

"Thank you, I'll bring it back soon," Aster mumbled, clutching the handle tightly and keeping it away from her as she turned on her heel and left, Pashina calling out a confused 'you're welcome' behind her; she nearly stumbled multiple times on the way back to her room. Running the tip of her tongue over her lower lip nervously, Aster slipped back into her room, shutting and locking the door behind her.

With trembling hands, Aster sat on the edge of the bed. She hadn't even realized she'd run down to the lobby in her bare feet. Inhaling deeply, Aster raised the mirror, then flipped it in her hands so the reflective surface faced her, and stared back into the face of a stranger. Again.

Aster blinked at her reflection, mouth parting slightly in a silent gasp of surprise. She had an oval-shaped face with pale skin, but what caught her attention was her hair and her eyes. Her hair was long and silky, mostly straight; blunt bangs fell across her forehead, and the strands were a soft but vibrant shade of pink. And her eyes...they were yellow, not amber or gold, but yellow, with a black rim around the iris. And her pupils were...rectangular shaped.

Reaching her fingers up, Aster ran her hands through her hair, closing one eye and then the other. Well, this form certainly hadn't been human, that was for sure. But what race, Aster couldn't say.

[Asterope]

"What is happening?" She mumbled to herself, watching her mouth move in the mirror; her voice was soft and...almost throaty. Perhaps huffy was a better way to describe it? It lilted slightly in a manner she was unused to, but there wasn't a notable accent that she could hear, unlike with her Benshira form.

This was the second time now. At first she had thought it some sort of strange fluke, but it was becoming apparent to Aster that whatever was going on wasn't any sort of mistake or coincidence. It was purposeful, and a pattern; if it happened more than once, she could only imagine it would continue to happen.

But why? Aster stared at herself hard in the mirror, her strange yellow eyes with their rectangular pupils staring back at her. She had seen strange eyes like that before, she was sure of it, but she couldn't place it. Aster frowned at herself in the mirror.

It had turned out that her Benshira form had been a real person who had lived not all that long ago, with her own life and family and story and name. Aster wondered if it was the same case for the form she now found herself wearing. It had to be, right? Looking down at herself, Aster decided to start in the same way she had last time.

She stood up, placing the mirror aside, and undressed, examining her body as she went. This body was tall, perhaps taller even than her divine form, and much more gangly, with long limbs; despite how skinny she was, however, her shoulders were broad. Her skin was pale and smooth and mostly unmarked. Actually, no, hang on; Aster twisted around to look down at her right calf.

She had tattoos. A flower wound up the side of her calf, starting at her ankle, and stars surrounded it. Upon closer inspection, some of the ink seemed to emit a gentle glow. Aster had never seen a tattoo like it, though she didn't exactly have much experience with tattoos period.

Still, it was strange. And her hair...Aster lifted the ends of it, watching the silky pink strands fall through her fingers. Would hair dye carry over in this way from a life to Aster's mortal form? She had no idea. But picking up the mirror and examining the strands at the base of her head, she saw no hints of other colours growing out to suggest the pink colour was a dye. It must be natural.

What sort of race had naturally pink hair and eyes with square pupils? Aster shook her head, placing the mirror down again, doing one more check over her body for any marks she had missed. There was the occasional dark mole, but no scars that she could see. Though, upon closer inspecting, her finger and toe nails seemed to glitter slightly, as if the material they were made of had changed. It was subtle but strange and baffling.

With a huffed sigh, Aster put her clothes back on and sat on the edge of the bed, her chin propped in her hands as she stared at the ground with furrowed brows. It was beyond perplexing, what was happening to her. She wasn't sure whether to be annoyed and upset by it, or excited and curious. Perhaps it was a mixture of both. What was nice, however, was the fact that this form was well and truly hers.

Alard had no idea about it. He didn't know what she looked like, and her skin would remain unmarred from any eight-pointed suns; that, she would do her damnedest to ensure. Asterope glanced down at the back of her hand where the mark usually sat, flexing her fingers and watched her tendons shift beneath the pale expanse of delightfully smooth and unmarked skin.