Morphic - Open Thread fortune.
#1
Anders the Minior (Shields Down Ability), Shields Down -> Togekiss (Super Luck Ability).
Rogue.
Affected RPers: N/A.

The full moon's light shines down upon Anders, bathing their half-corporeal "body" in pale, bright rays. They stare back up at the sky, wondering.

It's been a day since Anders washed up on the shore of this island. They don't know what they're doing, they don't know what's happening... but they want to understand. They want to understand this new body they've been thrust into, to understand why they can't remember anything before that jet-black shore, to understand even just the physical space they inhabit. They had hoped that a return to the ocean might help them comprehend, to jog their memory, even if faintly.

But the sky sheds no illumination over their myriad of problems; only moonlight.

Anders instinctively tries to sigh, but they have no lungs to fill or empty. The swirling energy that forms their new "face" vibrates in sympathy with their exhaustion, but otherwise, they remain stationary. Without thinking about it, Anders sinks down. They miss having a body. They miss feeling like a creature.

Deep inside of them, Anders feels something strange. It's like the feeling that lets them rise or fall, that lets them call stone over their form or dismiss that selfsame rock. It's their own power. But it's a new power. Tentatively, they reach out toward it, and - 

[an excited voice whispers in anders's ear, and they fight to restrain their jubilee. the migration is coming. but they have to be patient. they won't come out until the time is right. they won't - 

white shapes cut across black sky. tiny hands clasp their own mouth to silence a scream of joy and wonder. the flock moves like living comets, a shimmering white meteor shower. and before anders's eager eyes, a white feather falls. a soft hand presses it into their own.

for luck.]

- Suddenly, Anders feels the familiar pull of gravity. They stand - stand! on two feet! - on the shore, now, razor-sharp talons digging into the sand. Iridescent black plumage, shot through with streaks of white and gold, covers their body, which they stretch to reveal a pair of massive wings. They stop and stare at themself, awed, watching the night's glow light up their feathers like a living star-chart. They are something new, something...

something beautiful.
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