Torn Away

"Never sacrifice or compromise yourself
For someone else's happiness."
He said upon his hoard made of
Sweets, skulls, and smoke.

And never have such words resonated
So deeply as to play with the strings
And shapes of my undead soul.
"You don't need him."

And just like that, the ties we had shared
Were torn to shreds before my third eye,
The pain stinging tightly in my chest
And my heart, and my mind.

Am I better off with you, my mentor,
My muse, my everything
Up to a few weeks ago?
Are you worth losing?

Suspicious lines run deep in my love,
But he saw before me the look
You have been influenced to give,
Or is it your own? I could never tell.

And never have such words resonated
So deeply as to play with the stars
And space of my scarred mind.
"All you need is yourself."

Shapeshifter -Part IX-

Noon was sleepy and relaxed as I stretched my shoulders, still in my pajamas. I had fed Necro when he alerted me it was time, and drank from some of the best steaming hot apple cider. The autumn, fruity scent filled my heart with homely warmth and joy of the coming season. Narcissa's keys were gone from her tiny bowl, and I felt the sun from the window cascade over my back.

I cozied up in my knit, auburn sweater on my couch in my furry pajama pants, keeping the cool chill out, and resumed my favorite book from yesterday. Hungover-brain fogged my mind a bit but I was just getting to the good part. 

Hours slipped by quickly, and before I knew it I was pulling on my favorite jeans, trying not to fall on my face, scrambling out the door to go see Annabelle again at the bookshop.

I half-ran over to the bookstore, late by only a few minutes, the cool breeze chilling my warm face from rushing so hard. I could see my breath as the sun began to go down while I straightened myself up and pulled the door open.

My golden-haired, six foot friend stood in front of the counter, checking out some books. "Zeph?" I asked, my mouth wide. "When did you get back from Paris?" I smiled, walking up and hugging his soft frame tightly. 

"Just earlier today! It's so nice to be back." he smiled a gentle smile and straightened up his polo shirt. "And how are you doing?" 

"Good! I-" 

"Here to see me?" a melodic voice asked, as Belle strode up to us, silent as the calm before an impending storm.

"Belle! It's great to see you!" I squealed, hugging her a bit awkwardly. 

"This is Zeph, he's one of my best friends, he just got back from Paris!" 

"Oh, hello, I'm Annabelle. Have we met somewhere before?" she asked genuinely, shaking his hand firmly.

"Maybe in passing?" he scratched his head, giving an odd, questioning smirk.

"Eh, I don't know." Belle shrugged and turned to me, her olive skin looking so... soft… "I actually was wondering if you would take me to the local graveyard? I heard it's quite lovely at sun down."

"Well, don't let me spoil your fun." Zeph laughed and sat down at a nearby table with one of his tattered, ancient looking books. "Text me when you're done so we can catch up! And maybe the three of us can grab dinner, sometime." And he was lost to the rest of the universe into the deepest of fictional caverns.

"You know, we can absolutely catch up later. I won't be too long!" There was no response, just a silence left behind by my words going in one of his ears and out the other. I swore I could hear the wind rustling the bushes outside as the air became empty for a few moments.

I turned back to Belle. "Well, let's go then!" Without thinking I grabbed her by the wrist and away we went, back through the creaky, metal door and into the chilly autumn air. 

After the rush of chilled breeze I felt the warmth of her flannel jacket over her wrist and without skipping a beat, let go and felt my face heat up. We casually walked the old roads of Marblehead, the sidewalks crumbling and vines crawling up the sides of aged, crooked houses. I pulled her along by her arm occasionally, as she stopped to gape at our historic architecture.

"You are very new here, aren't you?" I asked with a smirk. "Are you impressed?"

She looked me up and down suggestively. "Absolutely." She reached out to take my waist. 

"Just wait until you see the gazebo." I turned before she could reach me and kept walking, knowingly up the winding roads, smirking along the way. What, am I seventeen again?

Finally we came to the steep, grassy hill with a set of stone stairs built into the side. The cemetery smelled of freshly cut grass, combined with dying leaves and an air of humidity. I could see why, as the sky filled with ashen, heavy clouds on our walk over. A single, cold rain drop touched my nose.

"Wow, this place looks ancient." Belle remarked, eyes wide at the steep mount of dirt, dotted with different ages of tombstones.

"It goes back to the seventeen-hundreds. There's a lot of history here." I said with pride. 

We marched up the smooth stone stairs, each gigantic step more tiring than the previous. As we came upon the halfway mark, we could see the wooden, cesious gazebo, the pointed roof towering above the old tombstones scattered in every direction. As we came upon the peak I shivered as the skies opened up above us, the cold rain drenching us completely. We ran up the grey stone path and onto the cement floor of the old structure.

"It wasn't supposed to rain today!" I nervously laughed, feeling the weight of my water-soaked braids coolly dripping all over me. A freezing chill rolled down my spine. I took off my icy sweater and laid it on the bench next to me, where I sat on the dry, old wood. I looked out at the misty, showering rain, which coated the tombstones darker and the ground with a richness I had seen so many times before. But this time was so… different. In my gut was a sense of profound, universal, almost magical timing. 

"Well, I suppose we're stuck here now, aren't we?" Belle remarked, sitting right next to me.

I looked from her over to the carvings myriads of people had made into the layers of paint upon the wooden support beams of the gazebo. Wow... Last time I was here... The memories left a dull wrench in my gut, reminding me of the last time I saw them, their perfectly picked outfit for our anniversary, and their eternally dark eyes filled with regret and anguish while I broke off our engagement. 

"I know you like me, a lot... But I'm not sure I can do this." I stood up, taking away my arm from touching Belle's, and breathed in deeply. I couldn't stop looking at the carvings I had made with my first love so many years ago on the beam standing right over me. Jagged hearts scarred the paint, and gave me an itch within my chest that I couldn't quite scratch away with my untrimmed nails; A reminder of all the time I had given up to the pursuit of love.

Annabelle intensely gazed at me, but I couldn't quite meet her face with my own eyes. I paused a few moments, but there was no reply.

"After all of the relationships I've been through, that have brought me up to this... This just feels a little too familiar. I didn't mean to lead you on." I finally looked at her face, and she gave up no emotion or expression in stark contrast with the flowery, pointed look she had just a few minutes prior. She stood up, still staring, hands in her pockets of her black, flannel coat. I couldn't quite be sure, but I did a double take as I thought I saw her standing there without water having even touched any part of her hair or clothes. I quickly shook my head as if to try to clear it, and I saw her standing there, drenched but not shivering a bit. 

"I see. So you need time?" She asked, the lack of inflection in her voice still unnerving and hollow. 

"I think so. I won't mind hearing from you now and then, but it's just too soon for me to be having any sort of crushes."

"So you do have a crush on me?" She asked, hesitantly.

"That's not really the point, dear." I felt a short rush of annoyance. Typical. "I think it would be best if I go home."

"As you wish." She said blankly, sitting back down the bench, just watching.

The rain, as if the thunderous skies had heard my request, settled down so I could walk away from this girl in peace. 

The walk home was cold, and lonely, but I couldn't escape the feeling of my heart beating through my chest and satisfaction every time my boots stomped the ground, one step after another. Oh, what did you do? I asked myself over and over, taking out my irritation on the soaked sidewalks underfoot. I can't feel bad for needing space.

But what if to move on, I need to give in?

Shapeshifter: -Part VI- [edited]

Laying in bed, I watched my room grow ever darker, breathing and taking in the cushy, absorbent blankets. The sun set over Marblehead, and my room grew darker still. The time was approaching, and I swiftly threw my flannel pajamas to the side of the empty, black hamper. Into the steamy shower I stepped quickly, feeling the exhaustion of the day wash away with the infernal water. My fingers ran through my conditioned hair as it were composed of fairy silk, and I breathed slowly but largely, expanding my lungs wider with every inhale of pomegranate and sugar.  The scents and my energies swirled among the steaming room, caressing my aura and every inch of me into its grasp. The clouds of steam billowed around my hourglass, full figure while I stepped out to find my plush red towels folded neatly for me. I dried off and dressed to the tune of Mystery Skulls, amplifying my desires and anticipation even further. The usual bubbling sensation of refreshing energy wafted over all of my skin, not bothering me much since the early days of 'mirroring', as I called it.

I looked at the spotless, shining bathroom tiles and felt that I had forgotten something important... No matter. Time to dry. I blew out my midnight hair, pulling and brushing it out until it was straight as a ruler. I left it down, framing my made up face well, and dressed in a long black blazer on top of a black tank to keep out the cooling night time air; After all, Autumn was here. I paired it with gray skinny jeans and over the knee, flat black boots. My black faux leather purse paired with the outfit nicely, giving it an air of business casual. Perfect.

"Hot date tonight?" someone asked, and I whirred, my bones nearly escaping my skin.

"Oh, Serena!" I breathed. The spell had worked, after all.

"Just wanted to let you  know that your clothes will be done in the dryer soon. I'll be leaving now." she smiled.

"I'll walk you out!" I said, silently promising myself I'd never leave my door unlocked again.

I quickly poked my stereo to turn it off, and walked around quickly to the front door, holding it open for Serena's unassuming form. Who knew someone so unassuming could be so quiet? I scoffed at myself.

"Thank you for everything. Your work was very satisfactory, at the least, and I'm sure we'll be getting to know each other well." I handed her a key to the house. "For when I'm not here." I locked the door behind me and started down the mason stairs, about to start walking down the sidewalk.

"Um... Do you need a ride somewhere?" Serena asked, looking at the severe lack of vehicles on this side of the road.

"I'm just walking around the corner! Thank you, though!" I faked a smile and waved. The last thing I wanted to do was put her in danger. What a nice girl, but I just couldn't do that to her. The more distance between us, the better.

I marched down the sidewalk while Serena started up her car and carefully pulled away. The sun was almost completely gone then, emphasizing the glowing, promising full moon above.

A bit later, I walked up to the bar, taking a deep breath before checking the time at the door. 6:58 P. M. She'll be in her usual spot, and I looked around for a second before laying eyes on her.  She had her hair in long, tight braids which framed her face like a work of art. Her dark skin shimmered in the faint lights like the moonlight reflects upon precious onyx. I approached her and smiled, accepting my fate. She was sitting alone at the table as a queen, and I was lucky enough to have her undivided attention for the night.

We were serious at first, but after the first two martinis we were getting a bit more comfortable. As expected, she was making all of the first moves, and all I had to do was show her what a good, non-clingy, secure person I was. After doing this 5 previous times, I had become an expert at the early game with her, I hoped. She is as easy to start with as a hot knife cuts through butter.

Her dark eyes sparkled under the dim lights, and I looked into them deeply as she spoke about her job, her insecurities, her achievements, and her desires. Her dreams were beautiful, and her insecurities even more so. By the time I downed my fifth martini, however, we were barely speaking. At that point, we may as well have just been saying we wanted to have a nice night in bed together, but from what I could remember, we were just a mess of mumbled flirting and half-meant arm touches. By the end of the sixth, my mental emergency alarms rang in my head, bringing me back from the depths of drunkenness to heavily buzzed. I can't drink too much... I need my magic... To help... me... I struggled and stared at the table, refocusing my thoughts, turning my inhibitions back on, only taking a few seconds to realize that I was missing the previous ten minutes of my life. Idiot. I looked back at her dazzling eyes, her shiny braided hair behind her. She was drunk, but not too drunk to make okay choices. I can't sleep with her on the first date though, especially being intoxicated.

"This was s'posed to be a ...Date, you know? You are BEAUTIFUL!" she said a bit too loudly to me. Okay, maybe more intoxicated than I thought. She'll be getting sick soon if I don't stop her.

I asked for the check, to which she became only slightly confused, and quickly forgot as I stuffed my card into the bill as soon as it came.

After signing and paying I debated with myself for a bit. I won't sleep with her, but one kiss couldn't hurt... Could it? But she even said today was supposed to be a date... But I haven't seen her this drunk, at least we broke up last time... And honestly, I've never seen her drink this much...

"I'm... Not feelin' so good..." she half mumbled.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," I said lightly, helping her up from her chair. "I'll walk you home and you'll wake up tomorrow, totally fine." I smiled reassuringly.

"O-okay...." she said, stumbling a little on her feet.

And away we went from the bar, an epic journey of laughter and stumbling as we clamored through the quiet, chilly streets of Marblehead for a little while. We stopped at a familiar abode, one made of dark wood and angled rooftops that I had been in at least a thousand times before. I helped her up the small stairs, all the way to her door. And out of habit, I took out my own key that I had to her best friend's house, and slipped it into the keyhole. A perfect fit, as always.

"How... How'd you get that out of my purse??" She looked confusedly at the key in the lock, still drunk but clearly sobering up a little.

Time seemed to stop as I stared, wide-eyed, at what I had just done in front of her. And I froze in shock, unable to think of a clever thing to say.

Love and Cold Winds: Part Two

    Lym'rothlin Badgerheart (Also know as Lym to his friends and lovers) had heard and sung songs of heroes of happenstance using their wit or dumb luck to accomplish their goal. The handsome halfling had no idea he would ever find a living soul that would have both aspects wrapped in a uniquely eye-catching package such as Vort. 
    Norra was a hunter down to her core, born and raised in the dense Novera Forest. She knew how to track, hunt, and even cast a little magic to give her arrows and knives enough of an impact on monstrous beasts. Caution and distance had been her only companions 'till a boy with storm colored hair saved her from the club of a berserk minotaur, and so the wood elf swore a life debt to him.
    Their reasons aside, over the year of travelling and performing feats to gain a decent reputation, the three found themselves becoming fast friends. And while they decided things by diplomacy, Vort's cheerfully chaotic disposition often led them down very interesting roads. In this particular instance it had led them to the human settlement of Parnattha on the edge of Garr'thd's Swamp.
    Within this particular town was a Tavern (non) ironically called The Slippery Fish. Garn found himself sitting in a back booth with Vort and aforementioned company. His prospects of ale-powered flirting was dashed as he looked between the chipper bard and the ranger oozing stoicism out of her green cloak. Vort had sat himself right next to Garn while the height-apposed duo sat opposite of them. Lym had just finished regaling everyone within ear shot of the perilous tale of how the party got its name, The Happy Accidents.
    "Well...An excellent song." Garn finally said. The halfling stood on his seat and bowed, eliciting a smattering of applause from nearby patrons. To think this all stemmed from the harmless question of, "So, who are you?"
    "Anyway," Norra said, "Lets just cut to the chaise. We need a fourth member to get into the higher levels and you're the best option for miles."
    This was not the first time the dragonborn had heard this line. Once he left his little village and started making a splash in his newfound profession, a representative of the nearest local guild (The Hardy Serpent) came to fill him in on the way of the world while attempting to recruit him.
    In times long past past the five great heroes of old formed the first guilds to combat the evil sweeping across the land. The High Guilds are those guilds which follow the highest orders of the High King and the Collective Kingdoms. From each region they oversee the Lesser Guilds, those formed by seasoned adventures to tackle greater challenges and tasks with all the benefits involved. Further segmenting this are Parties, smaller bands of adventures who are either in a guild or trying to get into one. There are also Mercenaries, those who prefer the independence away from the political  and cutthroat practices guilds tend to accumulate in their ranks.
    Any adventurer also had a Level, which was a short hand for their experience and prowess, and depending on the guild the process of leveling up could have been stupidly easy or easily frustrating. Garn happily skipped all this nonsense and marked himself as 'Mercenary, not taking requests'.
    So, why would he even hear them out now? One could blame the small man with storm colored hair that bitch slapped him into a wall. He of course would not admit that to himself or anyone else.
    "I don't know, what's in it for me?" Garn finally said.
    "A chance to actually be challenged again." Vort spoke up, "Plus, the money isn't half bad!"
    Garn blinked and looked down at the smiling human. Given he was the one who bitch slapped him an hour ago this sentence out of context would have been condescending. However the sheer sincerity it was spoken with, combined with a very honest assessment, Garn had begun to feel ever so slightly bored with his lot in life. He had left his home village to experience the world, and only took the job to hone his sword skills and get some gold for himself.
    Given the mediocre challengers he was put up against, he was made into the child with the biggest stick in the age old game of 'don't hit me with that'. He was tempted to say no to them much like the other parties and guilds that had attempted to recruit him, but he was more tempted to say yes (definitely not from the silly flight of having a crush, how dare you imply that?).
    "Alright," he said finally after the correct amount of tension built. "I'm in."
    "Yes!" Vort shouted joyfully. "Drinks are on me!"
    The whole party cheered, and proceeded to partake in the age old adventuring bonding experience; Becoming amazingly drunk and rowdy for the rest of the night.

Shapeshifter -Part IV-

This woman I stole had been in impeccable physical health, but she had the anxiety of someone who had been through more than a few incidents in her life. I didn't have time to reflect on it as she sucked me into this deep conversation that I was letting her trap me into. I was a willing participant, strung up in her web of anecdotes. Her words always gave me both a flutter in my stomach and a tightness in my chest, like a titan squeezed around my lungs with an enormous grip. It was both familiar and incredible, though the squeezing was a bit harder than my liking in this body.

Not showing my unease, I hoped, I forced myself to breathe the best I could, and timed it with the ticking of my designer watch, at the same time demanding my eyes to stop looking anywhere but into hers.

"Do you understand what I mean?" she looked straight at me, a sincerely concerned look on her face. She's been talking this whole time and all I've been doing is breathing. God. Damn. It.

"Yeah. Thank you." I smiled, speaking slightly better than squeaking, this time.

"So what's bothering you? What's on your mind, hun? You look lost."

I looked down awkwardly, trying to use body language to my advantage. "I don't really want to talk about it, thanks though." Damn it, why did I do that? Looking around in a small panic I said, "Honestly I'd really just like to talk with you about other things, if that's okay."

"Oh? Well how would you like to hear about my most recent breakup?" She gave a smile that read about as innocent as a demon of depravity.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Shit. SHit. SHIt. SHIT. 

"Let me tell you something, this lady was incredible. She was beautiful, rich, good at making love, and cared about me. But you know how sometimes people can get a little too into you?"

I stared blankly and just barely nodded.

"She was possessive, you know? She said that she just couldn't bear to see me with anyone else, whether it be an acquaintance or a friend. Total bullshit, if you ask me. Happens all the time, though" she sighed. "Everyone else I know has issues with guys or ladies cheating on them, and I'm over here with the stalkers." she laughed. It sounded like the Christians' version of the Devil in my ears.

I believed that I was keeping my calm well, until I realized my eyes were spread wide in amazement. My mouth was definitely also agape. "I suppose I can imagine what you mean... After all, people need their space, right?"

I frantically searched my mind for hundreds of ways I could distract myself and have time for myself while dating her, and exactly zero of them were appealing to me. Reading? I've read every book I own plus I already read two books per day from the library. Painting? Boring. Music? Already d --

"Damn straight... What was your name again, sweetie?"

We exchanged names and numbers, and that was the moment I made it my mission to let her have time for herself at all costs, for the fifth time. The first time didn't count, since I didn't truly know her until it was too late. But this time, the sixth relationship, I am making my fifth attempt at this 'space' thing count.

That evening after I went home, all I could do was sit and breathe while my mind gradually churned slower from the excitement that afternoon. I sipped my finest whiskey with my back slouched into the new marshmallow couch I had delivered a few days prior. Even though the television was on, I didn't see it. I didn't even truly hear it. My eyes looked but the rest of me was seeing micro expressions, blinks, shimmering hair, all belonging to her. Why did I have to choose a body with such bad anxiety? I agonized over how the conversation went, over and over through my chaotic brain.

Though, after a while, it turned into my past faces, my new face, my plans, my life... And
like the waves of an ocean, my mind caressed the edges of the coast of where my wonder sat. Why am I the way I am? And if the Gods made humanity, then who made ME? I jumped out of my seat as I saw Vincent's face stare back at me from the lit screen. And now I'm hallucinating again. Great. My whiskey now covering the nearby rug, I wandered to bed and laid in the darkness, truly feeling how alone I was for the first time for as long as I could remember. Those questions lurked ever closer than before, creeping about the corners and niches of my mind while I tried to focus on anything, everything else. Each and every one haunted me into my sleep.

Shapeshifter -Part II-

Marching over to my night table in my mundane bedroom, I slid the mahogany drawer open with a cold, calculated plan where my soul should be and a string of laser-focused thoughts in my head. The overwhelming urge to collapse almost overcame my stiff, cold body but I only barely gave a damn. I shuffled through the drawer in a panic, until I saw the black, velvet box that held my affection for the woman within its pillowed insides. I dared not open it, for if anything happened to this item, this ring... I sweated even more at the thought.

I held the box to my face, breathing in its scent as if it were a fresh bed of flowers. The warm drops flowing down my forehead onto the floor narrowly missed its edges. It didn't smell like much of anything, but I felt myself absorbing a piece of her into my lungs, my veins; Filling up the emptiness that everything else in life brought to me. After a few minutes I placed it carefully back behind the mess of miscellaneous clutter that filled the hardly-used table, and placed my face in my hands, the rest of me slowly sliding down the side of the bed. Before reaching the floor I tried to organize my thoughts but it was no use - focus was nowhere to be found within the reaches of such insanity as this. Her voice, her smile, her theories, her passions echoed through my head. I felt my chilled, soaked face and knew that I was past the point of no return. I gently landed on the ground, knowing that I only had a few more chances with her, meaning maybe two or three. I can not explain how I knew that day, but in my heart of hearts, I was certain.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I nearly threw it across the room in terror, as I forgot it even existed. It was a call from Catherine. Catherine to me, was a wonderful woman to play with, but never anything more. Last time I saw her was 6 months prior, about a week before I tried once more with the love of my life.

I rejected the call so I could think, and possibly die, in peace and alone: the only way I'd like things to go without being in her warming embrace.

'Like, you have no ambitions out of life except to be with me', echoed through my head hundreds of times in a second. 'I'm more into people who are, you know... Passionate about things. This isn't normal. I think you need help.' her voice scraped a new headache through my already pained skull, and kept repeating until another sound made me jump out of my skin.

The phone chirped loudly and my heart stalled. It was a text from Angela.

"Hey handsome, u free? I saw that u guys broke up online. So much for love huh? Hmu if u wanna start having fun again ;)"

Crushing the plastic and glass with my hand, I sent the pieces of pointless booty call all over the plush carpet. I forced myself to stand, legs still wobbling under my slight figure, and forced myself back to the kitchen with the conviction of a saint to drink some more water. Munching on crackers also helped to calm the physical distress of heart break, but only because I hadn't eaten in what felt like years and drank an ocean's amount of rum.

It was quiet. Too quiet. My thoughts wouldn't let this night be a peaceful one. Doing magic was the only way out for me to make it through this, or else I was ready to die trying. The thought of doing the spell again made my stomach twist, but hell, I already had my will written up, so why not? Lumbering over to the clean full length mirror of my bedroom, legs still wobbly, I took more deep breaths and downed one more glass of water. I squeezed with my hand and embraced the pain that shot up my arm from the splintered glass. The crackling and high-pitched shatter was somehow comforting ; The caress of the blood warmed my clammy flesh. It was just another sign that I was alive, and that this was the prime reality realm.

I smeared my palm across the drivers' license photo, leaving a streak of crimson plasma over the unsuspecting woman's face. The searing pain from the cuts made it all the more easy to focus on the ritual. I blindfolded myself with a plain black cloth and grinned wide. The cuts burned with an energy that fed me past the point of being satiated. I stopped feeling the wobble in my legs, proudly standing tall with inhuman power. I only said what came to mind as I wiped my screaming palm along the mirror, drawing unknown symbols to myself.

"This body is mine. You are mine. Annabelle Chevalier, you shall be mine forever forward. I take all of you inside me and absorb you fully. Your face and body belong to me. Your mask, bound of human flesh and spirit shall be imprisoned within my very souls. Come to me now, as you lack the freedom of choice forever more."

I repeated "This body is mine now, Annabelle Chevalier." over and over until the agonizing burning of my veins and body stopped. I nearly blacked out until I hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. It was sooner than it was the other times at least... Perhaps I was growing in power?

I heavily forced my breath to settle while I felt my back sink into the carpet a little deeper. It probably hurt, but I could barely feel a thing past the throbbing pains of muscles all over my body. My lungs and heart finally began to slow and the next thing I remembered was waking up in my hardly used, king-sized bed.

The vigor was almost overwhelming - clearly this woman had a penchant for physical activity and healthy eating. I woke up not only energized for the day, but even the unfamiliar emotion of joy overcame me as I hopped out of my bed refreshed and ready for the day ahead. The craving for kale was a strong side effect, but one that was well worth its cost for this fabulous machine.

I felt my soft curvy hips and up my hourglass waist, then braced myself for the mirror. The sight could have been shocking, and severely disorientating whenever I went through with a change like this. I winced a bit but then jumped in front of the mirror, only glancing and then looking head-on at this puppet that would hopefully be my newest tool of seduction.

My clothes from yesterday were a little tight, as I realized looking in the mirror. My new flawless, olive flesh was a bit squished in my tank top, but at least my polka dotted pajama pants were still too big. My hips, waist, arms,  pretty much everything were a bit bigger than I was used to, but they were fabulous, and I knew I'd draw the attention I so desperately needed. My raven black hair truly caught my eye, even as it lay in disarray, partially covering bright green eyes.

"Time to go shopping." I smiled. The awe from seeing myself this curvy made me almost giddy. For once, I truly felt like I couldn't accidentally hurt my body pushing a grocery cart or picking up too many boxes; Not that my supernatural strength wasn't enough, but that bodies which lack a lot of muscle always felt like they'd snap if I even stood up the wrong way.

I made sure to change into well-fitting clothes before heading off to find the perfect wardrobe, my platinum credit card in purse and my sunglasses shielding my eyes from the burning hell that was daytime. It would have been only a day before the next part of the plan would commence - attempting first contact. The anticipation would have killed me, if it not for the distractions of normal human activities, including moving addresses, donating and then buying furniture and clothes, and transferring bank funds. It's easy to forge your signature when you are the person you say you are, or were.

Sweetwater: Anniversary

     Gertie was a bundle of nerves wrapped in flannel and ripped jeans, and when a women stout enough to mock the originators of her favorite kind of shirts get nervous, she flees to her decidedly more willowy half sister's home. Said sister sat on a lawn chair in her little garden untangling her chocolate brown hair from a messy braid only worn out among her flowers to keep the Little Folk from knotting wild flowers into it.
    "My, its been a whole year hasn't it?" she tutted as Gertie paced about, tugging and twisting a strand of her own wild midnight and dawn tipped dyed hair.
    " Yep." She replied curtly, " Anniversary is tomorrow."
    "And you don't have any clue on what to get Shay?"
    Gertie stopped pacing and sighed helplessly.
    "I want to give them something amazing Minnie. Something that...You know."
    The woman attempted to pull the right words out of her stressed and jumbled brain and line them up to match her emotions. When nothing arose she grew more and more frustrated over her own nervousness leading to stalling, leading to panic, leading to a low-key hatred of the horribly complex structure of English and the frailty of human form until-
    Her focus slipped and the Change happened. Most Were-folks will say after the first hard change, and within a month it would be as easy and fast as a sneeze.
    In an instant where once a woman stood instead was a creature which straddled the line of the natural beauty of a midnight black wolf and the supernatural size and bipedal stance of a creature that was far bigger than any canine should be. Not to mention the clothing, now much more form fitting (as many learn to wear garments 1 to 2 sizes bigger for obvious reasons.) Gertie howled, arching her back as she threw her head toward the sky. Thoughts, feelings, and emotions merged together and boomed clear in wolf-song. A few local dogs and one of the Paige twins (Aged 11) returned with sympathy howls.
    Minnie rolled her eyes as her sister wrapped up this emotional outburst with the all too human gesture of putting her face (muzzle?) in her hands (paws?) in embarrassment.
    "Sorry," she grumbled in a growly accent only made by a werewolve's true self.
    "Oh hush," Minnie chided, getting up and patting her half sisters arm comfortingly. "I'm used to it by now, you always found it easier to communicate your stress in this side of yourself. I still remember how it took you three weeks to turn back when you two started dating."
    Minnie smirked, "And don't get me started when they asked you to move in with them."
    Gertie leveled a scowl at her sister, which set the women into a fit of impish giggles. Within moments the infectious sound caught on in a half bark-laugh that flowed back into a more human tone as Gertie returned to her human self. 
    "As cathartic as this is," She said, straightening her plaid shirt, "I still don't know what to get Shay."
    "Maybe forget about buying a something," Minnie said. "and just give them a wonderful time?"
    Gertie blinked before making the face one does when the simplest answer is presented to a complicated question.
    "I've got to go, I know what I must do!" She proclaimed with all the weight and gravitas of a theater major.
    "You going to stay for tea, or go running off to panic shop?" Minnie asked in courtesy, already knowing her sisters answer.
    "The second one, rain check?"
    Minnie waved it off, knowing she wouldn't be able to keep her sister still, as she had the look of a wolf running after a rabbit and there was no stopping her now.
    "I want details!" She called after Gertie as she sprinted to her beat up Beatle and sped off into town.