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In a room star star star star halfstar


 

The sign reads


"Welcome all new travellers.

 

To continue you must go through a series of doors.

 

After going through you will pick a costume. You will then become a half- human and half that creature.

 

After a week(100 mins a hour,20 hrs a day,10 days a week) has passed you may morph and get another costume. To start of with you will only be able to become 40% human to 60% human.

 

If you put on a costume you will then become that creature, be teleported to it's home town and have to wait a week before being able to morph.

 

After 50 costumes you may change into one of your other costumes and become 30% to 70% human. When changing costumes you must wait at least an hour before you can change costumes again.

 

100 different species/gender costumes allows you to gender-morph and become 20% to 80% human

 

200 different species costumes allows you to combine costumes and become 10% to 90% human

 

400 different species costumes allows you to return to your world with no more morphing

 

And 800 different species costumes makes a polymorph and allows you to morph outside of this world.

 

Also if you have a costume like a centaur then the human part will always be human and is counted towards the human percentage.

 

Any gender/species transformation magic of yours can only change your gender(if you have at least 100 costumes) and the animal part to a different animal.

 

When you change into a different costume (that you already have) you may teleport to that species home town but you will have the week penalty where you have no costume changes.

 

If you die while wearing a costume you will be reborn at the local inn (or appropriate location ). If you have more then 100 costumes you will lose the costume you had when you died and go to an appropriate place for your next costume.

 

If you fail to make it out in 100 years(100 weeks in a year) one of your possible forms will be chosen and you will be permanently stuck in that form(apart from magic) until you die. Also there will be no possibility of going back to your world.

 

Also, one final note: should you take a female form and become pregnant, you won't be able to change your gender until the child is born, though the other aspects of your form may change (the child will change to match.) That is all, and good luck!


You realise that you have to do what the sign said to do and go through the doors and grab a costume.

 



Alternatively you could use the key system to determine the room

 

Please type in a number 1 - 18

 

Number 1:
Number 2:
Number 3:

 







Illustrated by catprog

Written by Catprog on 11 February 2004

Myth Land star star emptystar emptystar emptystar


 

You go through the door.

 

All of a sudden it slams shut and with no handle on this side it appears that you are stuck.

 

There are two more doors however and both of them have a sign on them saying

Costume room for
Element: Land
Type: Myth
Gender: ????

 

So which door do you want




Illustrated by catprog

Written by Catprog on 26 February 2004

Female Myth Land star star halfstar emptystar emptystar


You go through the door.

 

All of a sudden it slams shut and with no handle on this side it appears that you are stuck.<P/>There are five costumes in this room, all of them female, all of them are mythological land creatures.

 

  • Snake
  • <span class="female"><li>Wolf
  • </span><span class="male"><li>Lion
  • </span>




Written by Catprog on 26 February 2004

Manticore star star star star halfstar


One particular costume catches your eye. Colourful, strange and with a mysterious glint behind what you assume are synthetic ruby eyes set into the headpiece’s eye sockets. It is the manticore costume that you walk up to and lift up off of its hinge. The huge furry thing is heavy, but you make do, stumbling back with its weight before examining it in closer detail under the meagre artificial light that the bulb overhead is providing you.

 

Turning it over you find a zipper on the back hidden between plastic wings and under synthetic fur. It leads from the base of the neck to end of the back. You undo it and the costume loses a lot of its cohesion, falling limply with limbs dangling against the ground. The manticore costume appears several sizes too large for you, almost as if it was made someone closer to seven feet than a little under six. Not that this is much of an impediment for climbing on inside it, quite the opposite actually.

 

Driven by that curious desire to see what it looks like you starts putting it on, leggings first. There is ample room to not be concerned by your own clothes as you pull it over like a pair of overalls as if you are about to go paint a wall. You do however take your shoes off, since the suit’s leggings end with a pair of fake paws with leather soles to serve as shoes. With a little wiggling you easily among it on both of your legs and you hold the rest around your waist as you shuffle around and test the lower half of the costume.

 

Snug you think to yourself. Despite its apparent size the costume feels just right around your legs and feet. Now you continue putting it on, threading one arm and now the other through as you bend forward and duck your head in to try and pull the headpiece on. This is now taking some trial and error as you try to figure out where everything is whilst your head is buried inside of fake fur and velvet lining. You try to move back a little to readjust your torso and head, but in doing so you step on the fake scorpion tail that dangles between the legs and almost lose your balance.

 

You pause, catch both your balance and breath, before now resuming your struggle between man and costume. This time you manage to get your head tucked in underneath the headpiece. Your arms are also now inside of their exterior counterparts and everything feels far more snug than you guessed it would do. Straightening your back, you now start peering through the baubles that constitute the eyes of the headpiece. It restricts your vision, but not to such an extent that you can not move about as normal, your peripheral vision inside of the suit is sufficient to not be blinded by inanimate objects.

 

Suddenly the zipper on the back of the costume shoots up along your back, sealing the suit shut tight. Animal instinct compels you to freeze and assess what has just happened. Is someone behind you? Impossible, even with all of your attention on getting the suit on. Yet before you are given the liberty of reaching back or turning around to check, the entire suit begins to constrict around you. Pressure from every angle, along every inch of your person increases exponentially with every passing second as you struggle to understand what is happening.

 

You attempt to move your arms and legs, trying to fight your way out, but the suit has your body paralysed in its grip now. A fantastic yet oddly logical realisation strikes you that the costume itself is somehow alive. Some ethereal vitality is coursing through every fibre of its tacky exterior and interior as it hugs your body with possessive strength. Your chest is constricted even as you feel your genitals and other sensitive areas such as your sinuses begin to ache with pain from the pressure being applied to you. Breathing is difficult if not impossible now as your brain grows starved of oxygen.

 

Pins and needles shoot across your back, down your legs and make the ground uncomfortable. It is not exactly painful but it is irritating. You hiss and strain even harder against the costume but to no avail. Even as your skin crawls something in the realm of the supernatural is taking hold of you. Flesh and bone is being sized up and subverted by forces that are beyond this world. The prickling sensation is changing to one where flashes of cold and hot spread over your back and chest. Though you are ignorant as to why this is happening, the fact is that the costume is beginning to merge with your body.

 

The process is a piecemeal one, but occurs simultaneously every part of your body. Bone and muscle mass is gained, whilst the arrangement of anatomy and your body’s shape both internal and external are radically altered. However, the most frightening stage happens now as your eyesight and auditory senses suddenly cut off. Though you can still feel a great many things through tactical senses, you are effectively blind and deaf. Whole seconds of terrifying absence pass before your vision and your hearing return to you, now through monstrous light-sensitive eyes ruby eyes and pointed, furry ears that pick up a far greater dynamic range of sound. It just so happens that this is also where your body is finally released.

 

‘Fuck!’ You exclaim as you stumble forward and tumble headfirst onto the floor beneath you.

 

A mild concussion is a distinct worry, but not nearly so much as the slow realisation that everything is different. You flip over onto your back, a new set of smooth wings and a long, arthropod tail separating your bum and back from the carpet. Looking down across your torso and to your legs, your new nocturnally-acclimated eyes take in the sight of what has become of you. Emotions have been nulled by shear disbelief as you behold a naked but fur wrapped body, digitigrade legs, claws and a scorpion stinger on the end of your tail. But, most disturbing of all is the lack of your usual junk in the trunk.

 

Stripped of any modest clothing, you are free to explore with both hands the changes along your chest and between your legs. For some unfathomable reason, the process that has effected you has not only changed your species to that simulating a mythical manticore, but also your sex. For all intents and purpose you have been remade as a two legged, female manticore. You test your voice, still noticing a change in tongue, teeth and lips, and realise that you are speaking with a distinctly feminine voice. Not only has the transformation changed your body, but even your personal attributes, switching your idiolect from the one you had born all of your adult life to something that sounds like a woman from the baltic states. The accent is tantalising, but definitely not yours.

 

Whilst still stuck in a daze you get back up on your feet. Your balance is off, not only due to your new legs and paws but the addition of the tail and wings. You stumble around a little as you learn to balance your new body. Everything not only looks but feels new, from your mouth to your toes. It is hard to really process it all. Even just from touching your coarse new fur your brain is assimilating nerve impulses that are nothing like the ones that you have known all of your days as a normal human man.

 

Yet your opportunity to adjust grows short as once the metamorphosis has settled, something anew but equally radical occurs. You are aware of something hissing. It is like air escaping from a soda bottle containing carbonated liquid. The sound may have even escaped your attention if not for your new ears. But, before you can locate it the sound quickly grows until, right before your eyes, a bubble-like vortex opens up. It is sucking air and much more besides as the strange artefact tugs at your body.

 

Naturally you try to resist. Using your newfound claws to dig in even as your fur becomes disheveled from the irresistible force. But, your attempts are futile and ultimately you lose your balance. Tumbling towards it, you have no power to stop yourself as the vortex swallows you up whole. Lights bombard you, sound is a rush of air and there are flash of heat and cold as you go spinning through a medium of which you have no understanding of or anyway to even describe it to another. Ultimately the g-forces grow too great, blood pushing back down from your brain as you slowly lose consciousness.



Written by iscin on 08 December 2017

Muddy Landing emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar


You see the mud only seconds before landing in it face first. The rest of you follows as the dirty water splashes everywhere. On the bright side, your naked body is covered with not one, but two coats of fur that help to lock in all of your body heat. Unfortunately, that top coat is very good at absorbing the muddied rainwater that you are only now beginning to push yourself up out of. You fall on your ass, sitting upright on concrete as you rub the mud from your eyes and take stock of where you are.

 

Even before your eyesight is clear you already made a guess from the sounds you were hearing. Traffic in the form of antique looking motorcars of exotic design zoom on by. Surrounding you is a jungle of concrete and glass. Towers rising up all around you that are synonymous with an urban neighbourhood that has undergone decades of intensive development. It is not quite so dense as a place like New York, but is not far off.

 

Any thoughts about having been return to normality are quickly dying as you notice the pedestrians and drivers. All of them have a similar face to that mask you put on, the same mask that is now your very real face. Of course whatever spell has pulled you into this unbelievable situation is not about to let you go. As you continue to scan the street and buildings with your eyes you notice subtle differences in everything. Everything here is made not for humans, but for creatures like you. This sure ain’t Kansa.

 

‘Are you alright?’ A voice, a male voice asks from behind.

 

Turning your head you see someone much like yourself, but clothed and holding a hand out. Instinctively you take his hand and he helps lift you up on to your feet. Only now do you notice others staring at the wet, muddy and naked manticore that you are. You fold your arms across your chest, trying to cover yourself whilst your eyes avert from those who are staring at you. Even in such a bizarre and shocking change as this there is still plenty of room for you to feel embarrassment.

 

‘I-I don’t know.’ Your voice trembles as it it admits the honest truth.

 

‘Come with me. You need to get inside.’ The male says, even as he removes his overcoat and drapes it over your shoulders.



Written by iscin on 15 December 2017

Inside emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar


Thankful and eager to get in from out of the rain you agree. The stranger starts leading you by claw-tipped hand, walking along the road until he points at an open establishment. It is some sort of diner positioned on the corner of the street. Not many people are inside right now, so it must be before or after lunchtime. Your new companion escorts you over the precipice and you make sure to tighten the coat over your chest and around your thighs, keenly aware of your lack of modesty.

 

Five minutes later you are both sat at a table still waiting for a waitress who does not look to be in any hurry. At least you do not feel hungry, just wet and a little cold even with the fur coat as you shiver a little whilst dripping over the fake leather seat. Now that you are indoors and almost adjusted to your new physical situation you are beginning to make more observations about both your environment and the other anthropomorphic manticores around you.

 

Although all of the inhabitants of this city seem to approximately follow the same anatomical layout and physical traits of what the costume has given you, there are variations that you have begun noticing. These variations range from differing coloured manes and eyes to curled or straight tusks. Each has their own individual variation, almost synonymous with ethnicity or even dog breeds when you really think about it. The male intrigued by you for example has a far more auburn mane compared to yours, larger tusks and cool grey eyes as opposed to your blood red irises.

 

‘You’re quiet.’ The male says, breaking you out from your silent observations.

 

‘Yeah, well.’ You hold your tongue, not sure if you should admit anything so soon before you have figured anything out yourself. ‘I didn’t think I’d be doing any of this today.’

 

‘Naked in the street? That’s not normal, especially in this weather.’ He grins, looks down at the table and now back to you. ‘Are you from the country?’



Written by iscin on 20 December 2017

emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar


‘What if I am?’ Without even thinking about it your hackles raise. Subconscious body language of a manticore thinking defensively.

 

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t really introduce myself did I? The name’s Gavin, Gavin Rossinol.’ He says with a smile and outstretched hands as if imploring for forgiveness for some impertinence.

 

You are blushing underneath the coarse fur that covers your face, but you are unsure if he can see it. There is something so very charming about this stranger. And despite the shocking look of him, and everyone else here, your perception has already adjusted. To try and distract yourself and him from your embarrassing state you pick up one of the menus and begin reading it. The cuisine on offer here also seems to be out of place for an otherwise classic look. Live fooding, wriggling and squirming to get free, appears to be a common part of most dishes here. Vegetables are cooked, meat rarely so.

 

‘Do you want to order?’ Gavin asks, ignoring the monstrous grimaces you know your face is contorting into.

 

‘I guess so. What are you going to have?’

 

‘I’ll order something plain for you. Probably shouldn’t tax you after whatever ordeal you’ve had.’

 

Gavin gets the attention of one of the servers and they walk over. You recoil a little at the sight of her. Unlike yourself or Gavin, this manticore appears to be a real monster, with vicious looking scars on her face and not one, but three scorpion’s tails. The apron and little notepad and pencil she is holding is almost comical when placed as an oxymoron next to her naturally brutal appearance. The server notices you staring and frowns, though her attention is on your new friend.

 

‘Can I get the cold horse platter. And for my friend here, she’ll have… I think just a bowl of mice.’

 

The moment he names the dish you can feel your stomach revolt against you. At the very least you hope that they are domestically raised mice and not food scavenged from some hole. Gavin is also sure to order drinks, including just some water for yourself before the server goes back to the kitchen. You wonder if you should say something about the choice of cuisine. However, before you can say anything Gavin is the first to speak.

 

‘Now that you know my name and food is coming. Can you tell me your name?’ He asks almost disinterestedly, his eyes someplace other than on you.



Written by iscin on 24 December 2017


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