BODY HORROR/TRANSFORMATION MEME

[darkslayer]

For whatever reason, you're changing. Maybe you just drank a goofy potion and became an animal. Maybe you were put under a curse and need to find a way to reverse it, otherwise you'll be trapped as a monster forever. Maybe you've always been this way, or maybe you want to play out the whole shebang of slow, torturous transformation/body horror. This meme can be as dark or as light-hearted as you prefer.

THERE'S NO PROMPTS BECAUSE I'M A LAZY SHIT BUT: Please specify in the comments if you'd prefer to avoid body horror content! Also try to avoid leaving your comments blank and toss out some ideas or potential scenarios you'd like to work with.

Comments

Ratonhnhaké:ton (Connor) | Assassin's Creed III

[lifescratched]

[Werewolf/bear/eagle transformations, partial or otherwise, all sound like interesting ideas, or even combinations of the three. Think of it as ToKW AU spirit powers taken to an extreme -- for all intents and purposes Connor is almost a skinwalker in ToKW-verse anyway.]

Edward Kenway | Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag

[jackdaws]

[MERMAN EDWARD YEAH. Can be a transformation (Precursor artefacts are fucked up and Edward has a habit of fucking with them...) or a complete AU, if you prefer. He'd have the tail of a tiger shark, as well as small gills on his neck.]

Simon Blackquill | Ace Attorney: Dual Destinies

[shacklebreaker]

[Shamelessly lifting from Ryslig's interpretation of harpies, Blackquill would transform into a harpy with black hawk-eagle plumage and wings. Willing to play around with the body horror transformation stuff, or he can already be fully transformed.]

Malik al-Sayf | Assassin's Creed

[swordking]

[raven!harpy transformation! And he's doing his damnedest to hide it. He can hide the physical signs easily enough for now, but there's no hiding his irritability or his occasional twinges in pain.]

Malik al-Sayf | Assassin's Creed

[notonetorun]

[If there's one thing Altaïr has always been able to know, Al Mualim aside, is when someone is lying to him. And right now, Malik was lying to everyone.

He didn't know why, or what he was trying to hide, but he intended to find out.

Whether he'd have to follow Malik around like a target, or he could coach it out of Malik would have to be seen. For now, it was seemingly business as usual in Masyaf as Altaïr went to meet Malik.]

Malik.

The Boss | Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater

[frozenwhite]

[Horrible AU idea: what if Peace Walker was actually a cybernetic mishmash of The Boss's brain shoved into an artificial body/whatever was left of her real body salvaged from Russia?

The cyborg body would be identical to her real body down to the last detail, with some early nanomachine technology bullshit to make her compliant to being Strangelove's cyborg waifu following nuclear strike orders. She'd pilot the larger Basilisk machine the same way a regular Metal Gear can be piloted, except via hooking up to the Mammal Pod instead of a standard cockpit.

Like Peace Walker, she'd suffer from "amnesia" about the ultimate outcome of Operation Snake Eater.]

[swordking]

[Malik is seated behind his desk, a glove covering his remaining hand as he goes over his maps, fixing the shoreline of Cyprus, adjusting this and that. It helps him ignore the ache in his bones and the dull throbbing in his feet and back.]

Altair. [He glances up at Altair and looks away again.] You're here early this morning. Usually you sleep like a rock...or at least appear to.

[shutupandgetintheanimus]

[It didn't take Desmond long to realize something was very, very wrong. Kind of obvious when you woke up in the middle of the night unable to sleep on your back anymore because of the unbearable, sharp shooting pains that made his shoulder blades feel like they'd both been stabbed through with hidden blades. It doesn't want to go away, either. Or the obnoxious itch that's at the back of his neck, his shoulders, his entire back.

He groaned and rolled out of bed, reeling from fever. Fuck. His first thought was Connor, sleeping in the room down the hallway or....or hell, roaming around outside as a wolf or something. He hoped it was the former. God it fucking hurt. Desmond staggered out of his room and used the wall to keep himself from falling over. He needed help. Whatever was happening to him, it wasn't good. Not even remotely close to being good.]

[packalpha]

[Luckily for Desmond it is the former, and he's sleeping in the next room. Ratonhnhaké:ton's powers take a toll on his body if overused, and he still has some regard left for his own wellbeing to realise it could become an issue, which means getting what rest he can is vital.

He doesn't stir at Desmond's stumbling around in the hallway -- at least not yet.]

[notonetorun]

The same could be said for you, my friend.

[He approaches Malik's desk.] You've been up earlier and earlier, I've heard.

[shutupandgetintheanimus]

[Desmond rests his head against the door, the coolness of it feeling like heaven against his hot forehead. Finally he musters the willpower to knock at the door, the hand immediately snaking up to his neck to scratch at an especially infuriating itch. From the raised bumps, it feels like hives. Maybe he ate something off. But that doesn't explain the cramped painful feeling in his back.]

...Ra... d-- fuck. [he cringes. His fever is pounding in his head, killing any chance he might have had at remembering the pronunciation he'd been given, defaulting to the nickname.] Connor...you awake?

[swordking]

One does tend to get more done when they rise an hour before dawn, instead of midmorning. [If only that were the truth. Malik had slept perhaps ten hours in three days, the dark circles under his eyes obvious. The pain kept him awake for long periods of time, and woke him continuously, robbing him of much-needed rest.]

Did you need something? Updates on the recently unemployed Crusaders? Summaries of the recruits' progress, perhaps?

[The sooner he could get Altair out of his hair, the sooner he could relieve his shoulders of their uncomfortable position of being pressed against his chair.]

[notonetorun]

[If Malik thought he had Altaïr fooled, the he either insulted him, or was really that desperate. Subtlety would have no room here, it seemed.]

I'll take the summaries of the recruits' progress, and what's been bothering you these past few days.

[packalpha]

[There's silence for a few moments on the other side of the door, then the sound of movement. Then finally, Ratonhnhaké:ton opens the door, glowing electric blue eyes surveying Desmond.]

...What is it?

[If there's anything like interest in the question, it doesn't register in his tone of voice or expression. Gaining his spirit powers has changed him in many ways, few of them good, and he finds that he has less concern for other people than he once did.]

[shutupandgetintheanimus]

[Desmond looks a mess. He's gleaming with sweat, the neck and chest of his T-shirt damp from it. His eyes are wavering gold, like he's in and out of Eagle Vision. He cringes as the skin of his back tightens, swollen. There's a weight there, and he can only think of one thing.]

I think... My back. Must've cut myself. I'm pretty sure it's infected...

[packalpha]

[Ratonhnhaké:ton studies him carefully for a few more moments. He really does look a mess. And aside from the sweat, there's a strange scent about him, one that seems out of place...]

Turn around, and I will look at it.

[shutupandgetintheanimus]

[He obliges without a second thought, using the door frame to steady himself as he turns around. His back does look swollen. Both shoulderblades are obscured by oval-shaped lumps that trail all the way down to the small of his back. It's subtle, for now, but enough to be noticeable. The back of his shirt is damp with sweat, and the scent is even stronger here.]

Knew I shouldn't have taken that Leap... [He groans and tries to wipe the sweat from his forehead. It's starting to get into his eyes.]

[packalpha]

It is not a wound, nor an infection. [Usually he's reluctant to touch others, but Ratonhnhaké:ton makes the exception just this once, reaching to brush his fingers over one of the lumps.]

...Something is growing here.

[shutupandgetintheanimus]

[Oh, good. Desmond closes his eyes and relaxes. Then the touch, and those words. The stimulation of fingers makes him stiffen--it's his imagination. Nothing just...moved... That would be...

He swallows down the wave of nausea that just roiled his stomach. A parasite? Some kind of insect? Ugh, that just made it worse. That, and the smell of wet feathers, which even he can smell now.]

...Get it out. [He's trying to keep a lid on his panic, he really is.]

[swordking]

[He fell silent. After handing over the proper papers he remained seated, shifting a bit to ease the ache in his shoulder.]

...I would rather not discuss it, Altair. It is my burden alone.

[packalpha]

Would that be wise?

[It would be extremely painful, not to mention dangerous, since they don't know what they're dealing with. He seems to be seriously considering it, though, glancing back to where his hidden blade bracers have been left beside the bed.]

[shutupandgetintheanimus]

I just felt something move. What if it's... some kind of bug in there, or a parasite, or...

[He doesn't know what the past had in terms of horrible ways to die aside from grievous bodily injury from canonballs, and gangrene. Which...might make cutting into him a bad idea after all. Desmond ignored the screaming pain in his shoulders as he reached for the back of his shirt, pulling it off so Connor could get a better look.

Well, there's no signs of bugs. But there are feathers. White ones, ringed with dark gray bands. A gyrfalcon's feathers, from the back of his neck to the small of his back. And two bony protrusions beginning to take form on his shoulder blades.]

[packalpha]

[...Well. That confirms the weird smell.]

Desmond. [Seeing is believing, Ratonhnhaké:ton thinks, so without warning he yanks a feather from Desmond's back and moves to show it to him.] These are what is growing on your back. There are bones that should not be there, as well.

[shutupandgetintheanimus]

[That is definitely far more painful than having a hair pulled out. Desmond yelps, and is in the process of trying to turn around to give the guy an earful when he sees the feather. Sweat-dampened and a bit scraggly. He stares at it like it's an affront to nature.]

...What the hell is happening to me? [He looks pleadingly at Connor. The guy knows way more about this kind of thing than Desmond does. Surely he can figure it out?]

[packalpha]

[Ratonhnhaké:ton might be more knowledgeable about this kind of thing, but even he hasn't seen something like this before. His powers enable complete transformations at will, never slow, painful processes.]

You've done nothing that may have caused it? It has simply happened of its own accord?