Mara Kincaide (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _mazikeen_) wrote,@ 2008-04-26 00:01:00 |
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She'd been practicing ever since she discovered -- accidentally -- that she could once again morph. Once she'd made certain it wasn't a "seven thing," she'd pulled up picture after picture of every race, color, age, body shape, and gender identity she could think of.
Mara sat naked on the floor of her apartment, surrounded by print-outs of the photos, a floor length mirror set across from her.
Now a redhead with a sprinkle of freckles across her nose.
Now a platinum blond with a square chin and green eyes.
Now old, wrinkled, hair gone lank and gray, age spots dappling gnarled joints. Whiskers that went well beyond five o'clock shadow.
Short. Tall. Obese. Thin enough that even she wanted to hand herself a cracker. The grosser body changes were harder to shape, harder to hold. The further from her true form she went, the more concentration it took.
She hadn't been able to make appendages disappear or grow things she shouldn't have. Yes, she had tried wings, thank you very much. But try as she might, Lucifer's wings were as stubborn as the man himself.
Mara picked her five favorite shapes -- three women, two men -- and set herself a challenge. Seamless transformation from one to the other as quickly and distinctly as she could. It was like watching the pictures on the pages of a flip book.
Finally, to finish off, she closed her eyes and relaxed, took a deep breath and remembered her former self. Remembered how it felt to be in Mazikeen's tortured skin. Felt the weight of her weapons, how muscles had flexed and extended in use. What the air felt like when it caressed the fine hair on her arm, how her tongue had felt too big for her broken face.
She opened her eyes again and smiled lopsidely. Mazikeen's reflection smiled back.