Chloé took a deep breath as she passed through the outer wall of her dorm room, ecstatic to finally be finished with classes for the day. Manifesting just long enough to set her backpack down, she imdiately released her form and sighed with relief. The last vestiges of sunlight vanished as she lost her sight, the familiar sll of her deodorant evaporated along with that of her own body’s, and the cheap carpet underneath her feet drifted away as she floated into the air.
She’d never been in a sensory deprivation chamber before, but she imagined it paled in comparison to her daily routine after returning from classes. Regular humans could only hope to dull their existing senses, whereas she was capable of removing them entirely.
I wonder what I look like to other people. I an, they can’t see , obviously, but if they could, what would I look like? Would they see my body dissipate into a vague collection of particles only bound together by my consciousness? Would I simply appear to be invisible? Heck, I still don’t understand what my body does when I let go like this. If I perceive myself as hovering in front of the desk, is my foot still underneath ? Or, when I pull myself together, is it just rushing to rejoin my body from across the room?
After allowing herself a bit of rest, she briefly remanifested just long enough to remove her shoes and change into more comfortable clothes. Thankfully, because her last class of the day had been unexpectedly cancelled, she was feeling more energized than usual. She tossed her clothes in the hamper with an excited hop, even pumping her fist in victory as they landed amongst the other dirty clothes.
Alright, I’m feeling good, but what do I do with that? I’ve still got a million gas I want to get to, and I have no idea when I’ll have this much energy again. Well, no matter what, I should boot up my computer.
The familiar whir of chanical parts filled the room as she powered up her computer, smiling as the various LED lights stirred to life. While she tried to take great care of it, her relative lack of spending money ant the parts were older than she liked, and it always took several minutes to fully boot up. As she waited, she took advantage of her lack of exhaustion to wander around her room saying hello to all her plushies.
Yet another simple joy her condition kept from her.
When she was fully human, and needed to sleep regularly, one of her favorite things in the world was jumping into a bed covered with pillows and plushies. She loved feeling like she had a little nest, or maybe a dragon’s hoard, all to herself. Now, even the simple sensation of sinking into a bed required focus and exertion, which robbed the activity of its pleasure on the few occasions she attempted to recreate it.
After setting down Paige, her oldest and most treasured plushie that resembled a gray ram, she lazily walked around the room to simply enjoy being present. As she did so, her eyes ca to rest on the cheap mirror hanging on the back of her closet door.
Her reflection stared back. Its motions mirrored her own, and she found it strangely absorbing to look at herself in this way. When was the last ti she’d truly looked in a mirror? She normally didn’t have the energy to do so, and spent more of her ti in this dorm attempting to recover from a long day of classes.
She looked at her red, baggy sweatpants, her black t-shirt with several faded video ga monsters on it. For so reason, staring at herself conjured mories of a conversation she’d had with Tessa weeks earlier.
“It makes curious if there’s other stuff you might be capable of if you started ssing around with your abilities and your form.”
My form.
She seed to think my abilities might grow over ti, or that I might be able to strengthen them by ssing around with what I can do.
Chloé held out a hand, turning it back and forth as she thought about the lengthy process that had been her initial reformation. Weeks spent wandering the campus in an amnesic haze, desperately searching for answers about what she was and why she cared so much about the feelings of her friends. Her senses had returned bit by bit, and in ti she fully recovered, but ever since then she’d been too exhausted to truly experint with what she could do.
She’d reford the version of herself she was most familiar with, but was that all she could do?
A tentative spark of hope stirred inside her.
It would make sense, wouldn’t it? I can manually alter all my own senses, and my body is constantly forming and reforming through the course of a day. If I’m doing that anyway, maybe I can change how I form!
She steeled her resolve by pulling her outstretched hand into a fist.
To start, she looked at herself one last ti in the mirror, then let go. As expected, her body disappeared from view, and most of her senses dulled. She kept her vision active and trained on the mirror, knowing it was the best way to observe any potential changes she might be able to manifest.
What’s sothing small I can start with?
Hm.
How about height? If I can make myself just a little bit taller, it’ll be super obvious with the way my pants fit.
Taking another deep breath, she conjured an image of herself in her mind. Her body, exactly as she’d just seen in the mirror. Five feet, seven inches tall. Her loose sweat pants just a touch too long, dragging along the floor as she walked around. With the picture clear, she reached out to all her component parts and pulled herself together. She imagined herself with longer legs, a taller torso, and then tried to envision herself stretching taller as she reford.
As expected, her body remanifested rather quickly. She excitedly looked in the mirror, eagerly looking for changes.
But everything seed the sa.
Her pants were no shorter compared to her body, her tee shirt didn’t seem to fit any differently. Scrunching her face in annoyance, she released her hold on herself as she prepared to try again.
Okay, how does Amara do this? She’s constantly shapeshifting, and she makes it look so easy. Sure, sotis she’s just turning into other people, but she also constantly sses with how deep of a green her skin is, or how bouncy her pixie cut looks. Ugh, she always makes it so easy.
The next ti Chloé manifested, she attempted to give herself a bigger bust. Perhaps a little vain, but without anyone watching, she figured she might as well embrace the changes she truly wanted to see.
Yet again, nothing changed.
Maybe it doesn’t happen while I’m reforming? When I scream, it feels like the distance between and the rest of the world is thinner. Is that sothing I can do other things with?
I can’t scream though, not in a crowded dorm like this.
That’s fine! I’ll just focus on the feeling, the emotions, the mory of the space around shaking and warping!
Chloé cast her thoughts back to the mont her unusual power had first appeared: fighting Coven Head Gautier underneath the Science Building. In the mont, nothing had mattered but her fury, her absolute rage at the thought of soone hurting Tessa. She tried to ntally relive that mont, summoning all her anger once more, but this ti she pushed it into herself. She tried to pull herself higher, to stretch her form so that she could be a little taller.
Her breath ragged, nerves shot from rembering such a harrowing mont, she looked into the mirror once again.
Nothing.
Her body hadn’t changed in the slightest, yet the fury remained. Anger at Brandon for nearly killing her, anger at her stupid powers for practically ruining her life. Most of all, she was angry at herself. Bottling up all her emotions, she threw herself onto her bed and grabbed her largest pillow. Shoving her face into it, she scread as loud as she could in hopes of venting her frustration.
Echoes of her power lingered in her scream, sending unnatural vibrations through the pillow. Thankfully, her rage didn’t accidentally destroy anything, but a loud thump on the wall told her she’d made more noise than she’d wanted to.
“Can you turn down the TV? I’m trying to study!” her roommate Kendra shouted.
Chloé didn’t bother responding. Instead, she grabbed several of her plushies and hugged them close. She kept her face buried in her pillow, eager not to stain any of her treasured friends with her tears.
I can’t keep this up.
Amara was right. I need to talk to Tessa and ask for so kind of magical solution. She’s the one that altered the Lysander Circle, after all, so maybe she can do sothing like that again?
Okay. Next ti I see her, I’ll say sothing.
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