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« on: March 26, 2015, 11:06:15 pm »
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?
