Bay 12 Games Forum

Not really even all the crew, just the one guy.
Most everyone who went on that mission besides him is dead anyway.

Xan slumps down at these revelations, burying his head in his hands for some time as he processes them.
"I..."
His face itself tightens up.
"By 'powers that be' do you mean Miyamoto and the other leaders of your revolution? I would at least like to know the name of the persons who decided my fate.
May I be provided with clothing?" he continues, getting up from the table and walking toward the door of the room, his bitchfit apparently now concluded.

Ehehehehehehehehehehehe

I finally get to develop Xan's character!
He's about to be very pissed at his Father (assuming the Doc did the operation).

((Of course the pants would actually be alien parasites ))

Fire a few flaming acid gobs at Erik, then shapeshift into a more spiderlike shape - put gecko like pads on the end of the legs to enable easier wall climbing.

((Yeah, we're in the midst of Ice-9.))

The process of awakening from stasis has always been a sickening experience for Xan - the sudden shift from utter stillness of mind to even the slow creep of feelings at the back of his mind is disorientating and gives him a headache. He reaches groggily for his head, cradling it in his hands against the pain-
And he freezes. He opens his eyes to see his hands.
His hands.
He went to sleep without limbs, he should not have woken up with hands.
He quickly concentrated. He willed his limbs to shift to something else. Something more ... serpentine. With scales. But there was no change forthcoming.
Xan frowned. He concentrated again on his limbs. Change. Change! CHANGE! But nothing was forthcoming but the strange phantom ache that results from concentrating too hard.
His hands are trembling, and his thin chest is heaving with panicked breaths.
I can't change. Why can't I change?!
He rolls off the table he woke up lying on and scrambles under it, frantically glancing around at the room he finds himself in. White walled. Sterile. Harsh lighting. Infirmary.
He stays under the table for quite some time, processing his existential crisis and shaking. Eventually he stops, and slowly crawls out from under the table, unfolding to his full height. His eyes are red-rimmed and his face is streaked with tears. He speaks with a shaky voice.
Steve. Steve, am I on the Sword? Why can't I change? What has happened? Why can I not change?

RP now, mayhaps?

..................................
_{its 4 am where I'm at I'm not reading right}