Morphic - Open Thread ♦ Rex Desertum ♦
#1
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Form: Pikachu --> Garchomp
Ability: Static --> Sand Veil
Affiliation: Rogue
Post Involves: n/a
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He'd wandered to the far outskirts of the jungle, back towards the sand and wind and thrumming heat that lay beyond. His experiences with Gawain had, while not completely dispelling his discomfort with the concept, at least made him more aware of the benefits the ability to change forms provided. And more so, it highlighted the dangers. Gawain had had multiple forms, and so did several of the others he had met so far wandering Mautte's lands; it stood to reason he might as well. And with no knowledge of what they might be, or what the were capable of, Ricktor sought out the most desolate area of the island he had thus far seen in hopes that no matter what came of this experiment, it wouldn't cause anyone lasting harm.

He hoped, at least.

The Pikachu wandered out into the dunes, but made sure that the treeline could still be seen in the distance. Getting lost in the dunes was not an experience he wanted he wanted to have.

Settling in at the lull of two sand-dunes, he sat and once again tried to look into himself. To find something different. But not the same different of the masked creature, with its heavy trappings and strange construction. A different different. Something new and perhaps more suited to the sweltering heat that made his fur itch and his paws burn - that was bothered by the shifting sands and arid environment. Was such a thing inside him? He looked deeper, and a sudden image of wicked teeth and bladed limbs came to him, rising from the depths. A maw springing from the darkness to rend and tear and consume. He opened his own mouth and found the maw there, already filled with endless teeth and a bottomless hunger.

In a flash, before thought can catch him, his lungs contract and a roar - echoing and fierce and carrying bellows out into the desert. it quakes the dunes and shakes his bones and he is an invincible force. And still the hunger grows. He is hungry. So terribly hungry. He starves. He must hunt. Sharp body leans forward and balances as he peers out over the sand, looking for sustenance. Something to grip in his teeth. To butcher. To devour and savor. Around him the sand blows in the wind, and in his head his thoughts slow and dull in the face of an inescapable need to hunt and chase and eat.

At the edges of the desert, a beast begins to roam.
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