In a room
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
Written by Catprog on 11 February 2004
Normal Land
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: Normal
Gender: ????
So which door do you want
Written by Catprog on 26 February 2004
Male Normal Land
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 five costumes in this room, all of them male, all of them are normal land creatures.
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Written by Catprog on 26 February 2004
Fox
The door creaks in a long, pained whine, like a wailing cat, or some other pitiful creature. It hardly opens enough for you
to step through before the hinges lock up altogether - seemingly caked in rust - and you have to squeeze yourself into the
gap sideways.
Once beyond, the smell hits you. Not entirely unpleasant, but noticeable nonetheless; damp, dust, and old paper. This
room has clearly been left unmaintained for some time, and from the thick layers of dust upon the floor beneath your feet,
it was fair to think that no-one had even been in here during that period. Squinting into the foggy space, unlit except
for the dingy illumination from the door behind you, you frown. Perhaps you've explored a little too far into the
building here... Maybe it's time for you to turn back, and go back outside to the sun, instead of down here among the dust
and old, discarded things.
Deciding that there was nothing to see, you reach back around to let yourself out, with a mind on peeking about
elsewhere. Just as you do so, however, something in the corner catches your eye, and your brow furrows in confusion at
what you see. Just on the other side of the door, next to where you squeezed in, there is a metal rack, and upon it is
something that perplexes you in a moment, and brights a halt to your step. Lengths of brightly coloured material, draped
over the old iron spines in perfectly symmetrical rows. Looking closer, you can see much to your surprise that each and
every one of them has arms and legs. Costumes of some kind? Mascots? What were these things? And, most importantly,
what àre they doing here?
Approaching slowly, you extend a hand and touch the nearest one – orange and tan, clearly designed to be the pelt
belonging to a fox of some sort - and find it enticingly soft to the touch. They seem surprisingly comfortable, not like
something awkward or ungainly that a stage performer would wear. Glancing around, you wonder who they belonged to,
and what they were worn for. Strangely, at that thought, you find the idea of someone wearing this... beautiful thing very
appealing. Surely, it is a shame that cloth of such quality is wasting away back here, even though it was covered in dust,
and probably hasn’t been used in many a year. Perhaps you should try it on. After all, why not? What would be the harm?
It’s not as if anyone could possibly follow you in without you hearing, or like anyone would know if you had just one
quick try.
With curiosity only growing stronger and stronger with each unanswered question, interest finally gets the better of you.
Taking the one that had caught your gaze first, you unhook it from the rack, and feel it's weight drop into your hand. It is
surprisingly heavy, but you manage to find an opening in the center of what would appear to be where the chest goes, and
raise your leg up and into the opening without much consideration for the clothes you're already wearing. The inside is
much, much softer than you had expected. Silky, pleasant to the touch, and surprisingly natural feeling, not like it was
something synthetic and false. It feels as though your limb is being sheathed in long warm, snug, and cozy socks, and
when you wiggle your toes you can hardly feel any fabric about your toes.
For a moment, pulling the garment up around your other leg, you repress the urge to tear your hand back. This wasn't...
real fur, was it? Staring at the thing for a long moment, you remain quite unsure. There doesn't appear to be any stitches or
seams holding the thing together, but at the same time the patterns over the whole garment were entirely consistent...
surely this was not possible if it were actual fur.
Running your hands up the neck of the thing, your grip stops as it comes across a small plastic tag – square, gray, with a
small light in the center. Strange. It must have been a microphone or some kind of device like that, back in the day
when these things were used, assumedly. Perhaps this thing was a stage prop after all, though you could hardly
believe it if it was.
Moving on, and fitting your hands and arms in next, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to do up the zipper and
complete your outfit. After all, you’ve come this far already, why stop now?
Gripping at the label, your now gloved fingers take it up and up from the low of your stomach to higher up your chest,
slowly enveloping more and more of your body in the cloth-padded softness. As you continue, however, and as the metal
grows closer to your neck, where the entire thing threatens to close over your head as a whole, you begin to feel... strange.
The sensation that spreads across your chest and face isn’t so much… pain… as something completely else and
unidentifiable. It isn’t exactly pleasurable, but the familiar pang of hurt wasn’t there either. However, regardless to it’s
lack of lack of classification, this feeling spreads further and faster across your entire form - soon covering every inch of
you, head to toe, as indeed you complete your now blind, unthinking aim, and secure the zipper at its highest point. The
ground beneath your feet seems to sway, almost as though it were moving, and the rack before you seems to blur...
And then you lose consciousness.
Written by Doppelfoxx on 26 January 2022
Awake
What feels like a long, long time later, your senses come back to you. You feel yourself laying flat on your back upon a
hard, cold surface that is very much definitely not the wooden floor of the room you had been in earlier.
After some time, your eyes blink open groggily, feeling caked with sleep and almost stuck together. Gross. However, at
first all is still dark, and you question whether you had actually opened your eyes at all. After a few seconds there comes a
tinkling crackle, and with it a row of sparking light arcs across the ceiling in long, thick rows - fluorescent lights of some
kind.
Shielding your face momentarily from the suddenly intense glare, you squint tightly, propping yourself up from what you
can only assume to be the ground with one arm, and feeling a surge of nausea at even this slight movement. By the time
you muster the strength to open your eyes fully, a few minutes pass, and you aren't feeling any better – regarding your
surroundings with a blurry, weak gaze.
The floors are a dark, deep, and glossy black that connects seamlessly with walls of pearlescent white to either side of
you. Behind where you had been laying, there seems to be a corridor of the same material that leads on indefinitely, and
on the other end before you there stands a grayish paneled door that seemed something like the roller on a garage. What is
this place? How did I get here?
Slowly, squeezing your lids shut once more, you struggle to your feet, swaying to balance upon legs that feel strangely
unfamiliar. There, beside the door, there is a panel, and above it a blinking red light. Staggering forward, you raise your
hand out, hoping perhaps that it will switch the painful lights off, so that you may recover in peace. However, before you
can even touch the panel, vision still too blurry to make out much, you nonetheless notice something very, very unusual,
that causes you to stagger back with some violence, sending your head into another set of aching spins. Those... aren’t
human...
These things attached to your body, covered in fur and strangely joined, somehow aren’t as agile as your usual fingers...
or perhaps you simply just don’t know how to use them yet. As you glance at them, however, something odd becomes
very clear. At the termination of each pad, there lays slightest indent, and when you clench your fist, there they are, as
your dawning horror had expected. Claws. For a moment, your mouth drops open, and your mind flounders uselessly.
What has happened to me?Is this all just a bad dream?
Before you can sink any deeper into terror and shock, however, there comes a loud noise from just in front of you - dark,
loud, and metallic, causing a jolt to run through your heart, and your feet to jump in lpace on the floor. The door appears
to be shifting, and the light next to it has gone a bright green, as if announcing that it will soon be opening. A new level of
adrenaline pumps into your brain, and your feet tingle with the instinct to flee, knowing that if caught like this in a body
you do not understand, you will likely not be able to defend yourself at all - not that you would have been, were you in
your natural form, even so - you’re not exactly a pinnacle of martial form.
Body beyond rational command, and motion completely at the call of your shredding nerves, as the space beneath the
rising door grows larger and larger, you...
Written by Doppelfoxx on 27 January 2022
Run
Seized by an instinct that isn't entirely yours, your legs launch into sudden action like two coiled springs, and you bolt
away from the door so fast as your unfamiliar body can take you - stumbling, tripping, and almost falling over with each
step. You turn back and run into the corridor behind you, paying not a single glance over your shoulder as to what might
have caused the door to open.
It seems that the way winds on forever - endless, seamless panel after seamless panel, until your dizziness isn't entirely to
do with your earlier condition. Yet, still, you press on, until it seems that more than a minute has passed in fleeing
desperation. Just as your breath begins to burn in your chest, and you are feeling weaker and more disorientated than ever
before, your eyes latch upon another door with a panel not unlike the first one to the side of the way.
Frantically, and not paying mind to your foreign hands any longer, you skid to a halt and slam your palm against the panel
in the hope that it opens. For a long, long moment, nothing happens, and then there comes the noise of moving metal, as
the thing begins to rise, and you let out a held breath – stooping to squeeze beneath the opening so soon as it reaches a
height that you can manage. You spin around to slap an identical interface on the other side, before sinking against the
door with your chest huffing furiously as it closes once more, bringing the space into weakly lit darkness.
Pulse racing, and pace of breath struggling to slow down, you eventually manage to take yourself from the wall, and turn
around to look behind you. Though dim, there is just enough illumination for you to see into a space that is perhaps five
meters across and reasonably high, made from the same panels as the corridor outside, filled with stacks and stacks of
completely plain cardboard boxes, standing tall from floor to ceiling. However, most of them seem to have had their lids
roughly opened and be completely empty – almost as if what had been stored within had already been put to use, and this
was just the resulting trash afterwards.
Walking forward, still eyeing the door behind you with fear and caution, you feel your forehead grow incredibly damp
with sweat from a mixture of stress and tentative relief. Raising a hand automatically, your fraught nerves jump as instead
of simply brushing moisture from your skin, your strange new hands impact against something protruding in it's way -
resulting in a jolt of pain that shoots through your face. Ouch.
Freezing in place between two tall towers of boxes, you halt and reach up to your face in abject horror, growing both
increasingly more shocked, and yet also more utterly resigned at what you feel. Fur. A lean, athletic, male body. A long,
pointed muzzle, finishing in a wet nose. You glance down at your body, and behind the black tracksuit which was most
certainly not what you had been wearing before putting on this costume, you swallow upon a dry throat as you catch the
dark sight of something swirling behind you in no particular rhythm. A tail. Had something been done to you, in this
strange, futuristic place, or was this something to do with what had happened, what you had felt back in that dusty old
room?
Shaking your head – now newly discovered to be topped with sensitive, twitchy, fur-covered ears - perhaps the reason that
the sound of your footsteps had given you a pounding headache – you push on, refusing to delay and panic with someone
or something possibly on your tail. The stacks of boxes proved hard to navigate, moving on, but you gently shove your
way through nonetheless, being very careful as to not knock any over and make a noise that could be audible through the
door as you do so.
After about half a minute of doing so, you come to the other side of the space, and through the last mountains of
cardboard. Much as you had expected, there appears to be nothing more than the plain and unadorned wall marking the
end of the room here, however in one corner there lies a vent cover, seemingly concealing a passage about as tall as one of
the boxes stacked beside it. A possible escape, then, but it is a difficult decision, even so. Perhaps the hatch leads nowhere,
but there is only one other way out, and it was back out into the corridor where you had run from.
Written by Doppelfoxx on 28 January 2022