You Wake Up In The Above OC's Body! [IC Reaction]

The ancient deity rose out of his slumber, usually in his crystalline palace on the dark world of Crystalia. However, as he was about to prepare for his day again that he realise was something amiss and the intial room was drastically different than the purple glassy walls, the lush purple velvet carpet and the tall gothic furniture.

He was in some sort of underground cave, he thought to himself. "How would I be casted in such miserable depths?" Then as he checked himself, noticed he was entirely different. He was able to breathe normally but through some mask of sorts. He felt his heart shrink that he was no longer Crystalion the Cosmic Destroyer, more like a lowly mortal being.
"What is this? This feels and looks of a mutant?! I became one of the disfigured, twisted beings? Where is my subtle, youthful body?" He pondered but he'd be filled with worry amidst fears when someone else has access to his body and soul.

"Hnnnn, I must've had a rough night..." Ika yawned, rubbing her shoulders as if to make them feel better.

However, she noticed something was off. Her shoulders felt bigger than they used to. She guessed it was just a growth spurt or something, and I shrugged it off. As she got out bed, she noticed her whole body felt heavier than before.

"Must of put on some weight from eating all that chocolate yesterday," she assumed.

She walked over to her mirror to see the result of eating 3 chocolate bars the day before. Surely it wasn't that bad...

"EEEEEEEEHHHHHH?????!!!!" Ika screamed.

Her long, pink hair had been substituted to a short purple haircut with a small ahoge, and her physical features - well there's no other way to put this - she had turned into a man!

"H-How can this happen?? なに　です　か？！Wait...but first things first...If I'm a guy now, surely that means..."

Yes, curiosity got the better of her and she did, in fact, check 'down there'.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Mocha drowsily opened her eyes, blinking multiple times as she tried to sit up on the cool glass she was laying on. "Fell asleep in the lab again," she mumbled as she fumbled for her glasses. "Maybe Tate's right...I should probably stop working so late." She stretched, and raised a tentacle to scratch the sleep from her eyes.

Wait. Tentacle? She didn't have tentacles.

Suddenly completely awake, she got away from the lab table and looked over herself, surprise filling her chest. She no longer saw her dark skin or her brown boots or her red skirt; she now saw pale pinkish skin, purple short shorts, and purple feet, and several long pink tentacles sticking out from under her cropped shirt.

Mocha gulped at her new appearance, mind already racing to figure out the reason why. Did she accidentally hit one of her machines in her drowsiness? Did she dimension warp in her sleep? That hadn't happened in a long time...

She was so busy thinking she almost didn't hear the heavy clunks of combat boots marching down the hall. Vermillion's boots. 

Mocha was still as a statue, a nervous smile on her face. I may have a situation.

Blurry. He couldn't place why. Blinking didn't help to bring the unfamiliar colours into focus. Fending off the weight of sleep, Isidro scrubbed at his eyes, but to no avail.... Clarity refused to return, save for the close-up view of.... Brown skin. Hm. 

Hmmmmm. Hmm. 

It took a moment, but then Isidro was scrambling upright, suddenly very awake and hyper aware of--well, everything. The missing weight of his heavy tresses, the dark skin, foreign sleepwear, and were those....!? One hand came gingerly to his chest. When it made contact he thought he might faint. Oh no. 

The new development of impaired vision made getting out of bed into a bit of a mess. Misjudging the mattress edge, he nearly stumbled, catching himself on the nightstand; under his hand by fortuitous chance was a metal item, cool to the touch. A little feeling around distinguished it as glasses. Slowly, Isidro unfolded them and slid them gently onto his face. 

Frames were a new sensation, but somewhat dwarfed by the restoration of his vision. The room, he could see now, was not his own. The resemblance wasn't even sort of there. The angel, hands twisting anxiously into the hem of his pajamas, took it all in for a moment before zeroing in on a mirror in the corner. Practically throwing himself at it, he slid to a stop in front of it. Dread and realization twisted his gut as he looked into the glass. The face peering back could not possibly have been his own. Most unsettling of all, however, was what was behind his head--namely, nothing. No halo, no glow. He couldn't feel the hint of hidden wings at his back either. 

With a thump, the angel fainted. 

"Ah, what a day." The demon walked to rise from his slumber, rubbing his eyes---his eyes don't feel the same, however. He just brushed this thought off, maybe some weird cockroach bit his eye.

He ignored this, rising only to realize his body, especially his back felt heavier. 'What kind of parasite clung unto him this time? "?!" He touched his back, only to feel a new set of wings and flapped them in panic. "I THOUGHT THE OLD MAN CUT 'EM LONG AGO!" He rushed to a mirror in astonishment, and all the frenzies that drove him in panic earlier all disappeared in a blink, seeming extremely satisfied with how he looks.

"Fucking hell, I'm fabulous as shit!" He flipped his hair, grinning maniacally. "Because I'm worth it."

While he's still residing in the new body he has, he practiced how to walk like a runaway model as he spread his wings. "Those chicks will like me for sure~"

Haruka snuggled deeper into her pillow, inhaling the scent of fresh laundry. She shifted, uncomfortably, feeling something hard pressing up against her head.

"Ouch..." She muttered, her eyes fluttering open. Her voice sounded different. That was annoying, especially with her concert coming up tonight. Reaching a hand up to her head sleepily, she felt something glossy and sharp protruding around her ear area.

"Huh?!"

If she wasn't mistaken, that felt like a horn.

Grappling for her smartphone, she turned the black screen towards herself and let out a quick squeak of dismay, turning out more like an airy gasp due to her new, lower voice. Gone was the glossy, perfectly cut raven hair, her two soft little ears and her sparkling amethyst eyes. She looked like a demon.

"God!" She nearly dropped her phone when she saw the two pointed ears, poking out from where she normally had none. "This is what I get for sleeping with a demon! I swear this must be some kind of punishment." To her great dismay, her phone no longer recognised her fingerprint and would not unlock for her, and she had to take the time to type in the passcode. What an inconvenience. Immediately, she set about texting her girlfriend, a demon herself, to ask for help.

It was dark outside when Eclipse woke up, as was often the case for the light sensitive super villain. Darkness had its advantages. He didn't immediately notice the changes that had taken place to his body. Not until he felt an ear on the top of his head twitch.

A puzzled frown formed on features. On top of his head? He gingerly reached up, and when fingers touched upon fur he visibly jumped. "What in the hell?" He asked softly, but the voice was not his own. In a sudden panic, he ran towards the nearest mirror he could find. So used to being able to see in the dark, he didn't bother with the light switch. Until he found he could not see his reflection in the gloom at all. Bracing himself, he fumbled for the switch and flicked it upwards, preparing to be blinded by the light. Instead, purple eyes blinked uncertainly back at him.

What had he been doing the previous night? He recalled working on some new experiments and inventions, but nothing that could account for these changes. A short, brown bob. A little crown. And two pointy, soft ears on his head. One of the ears twitched again, and his mouth dropped open in horror.

Slowly, those purple eyes began to travel further downwards. With shaking fingers he reached to touch the delicate white wings he saw, and he flinched when he could feel the touch. They were most certainly his now. And then there were the lumps he found on his chest. His fingers refused to test whether or not those were real. "Venus!" He cried in a high-pitched tone.

His partner in crime came into the room, and she stared at him uncertainly. Something in his expression must have given away who he was for she suddenly spoke. "Eclipse?!" She fell into a fit of laughter, and Eclipse rolled his eyes.

"I am glad you find this so amusing." He turned on his heels, and made his way to his lab. While he couldn't account for the changes, he was determined to find some sort of solution to change himself back. Science, don't fail him now.

"Ugh! what happened? I feel like death!" Pixi sits up squinting after a long undisturbed sleep, her eyes still sensitive to the light shining through the window.
She rubs her face as she turns her entire body away from the light and puts her feet on the ground. Not that she felt much like getting up, but she wasnt to achieve much laying in bed now was she?

Tiredly she stands up, and then stumbled slowly towards the bathroom in an almost caveman'like manor.
Her hair dangling over her eyes and an expression like the walking dead.
She reaches for her toothbrush and carefully squeezes a pea of toothpaste onto the bristles.
Then as she looks up to the mirror she's taken back by her reflection and screams out loud.... though in her new body it sounded more like she were trying to imitate some type of big cat.
"OH MY GOD!!!" she drops her toothbrush and runs her fingers down her face in total shock staring at her reflection.
"I'M.... I'M....." she moved closer to her reflection
"I'M GORGEOUS!!!!" she grins widely approving of the face she saw in the mirror and wiggles her eyebrows a couple of times.

Vempyremon grumbled, stretching both arms far above her head before coming to a sudden realization that...she had slept upside down off the edge of the bed for most of the night. This was a normal occurrence, however, and happened far more often than she would have liked to admit. Still, in no way, would this falter her agenda for the day. The digital creature curved both legs over her head in a weak front flip to recover from this minor inconvenience.

She stood after a few moments of struggle, and stretched once more, as if to reach towards the ceiling. Her hands fell and met with her head where it stroked and combed through the many strands of hair. If she had to be prideful of anything, it was that! However, from the corner of her eye, she met with a color that was not quite exactly her usual black and red duo-tone shades. Pausing, her eyes shifted to look. Blonde. It was blonde. "...SCREE!" Vempyremon shrieked in in-human squeak, being only able to assume that someone had bleached her hair during the course of the night. Who would dare?

Backing up only lead her straight into the bedroom wall. No tail had been present to soften the blow of the solid surface against her rump. Quicker now, her Core began to race. Or was it a heart? Was she...a flesh creature? No longer a monster made of circuit and binary? This came at such a sudden shock. Instinctively, both hands rose up to grab at her chest. Who's body was this? It felt a lot smaller, a lot...shorter in height. Something was not right. "Wh-what sorcery is this?" She began to panic, her body shrunk from the stress, against the wall and...quite literally. Physically. Her form began to shrink to a much smaller state. It sunk lower and lower towards the ground until she had easily matched the size of an artist's overused pencil. Another squeaky cry emitted from her mouth. "W-wake up. Please. This has gotta be just a dream, right?"

Astraea flashed open her eyes, having the most odd dream and of course, she forgot it seconds after her consciousness returned. She lay there for a few more moments before she looked around, noticing it was a complete different scenery. As her mind wandered all the possible scenarios this could've happened, something suddenly smacked her in the face. She thought that perhaps Damien was playing a joke on her.. that is until she noticed it was a wing. Her wing. 

Panicking, she threw the blankets off her body and nearly flew up out of the bed. She had no clue as to what may have happened during her slumber, but it doesn't seem to be a good thing. Astraea tried to see if she had any of her abilities with her, and everything was gone. It was like she was a different person. So, she decided to test that theory. She investigated her newfound wings and noticed red gems on the inside, that reflected enough for her to see herself. Her theory was proven correct.

"Ah.. Well.. I suppose it's not too bad.." She tried to reassure her state of mind. "Wait.. Am I a vampire?!" Almost instantly, Astraea's opinion on the matter escalated and it was like she was on some happy pill. "This isn't bad at all! Should I keep the same name? Maybe I should try flying or testing out these babies~!" She licked her fangs still gawking at herself in the reflection. 

Waking up isn't working.

This doesn't feel dream-like, but what else could it even be? Leo's been prone to some vivid nightmares in the past, but usually Oliv wakes him since they'd cause him to yell in his sleep. This though... feels like he has too much control for it to be a regular nightmare; but alas, he's not sure what do to, so he gives screaming a try. Just, straight up wailing actually.
So, that doesn't work. Leo really wants this to just be a nightmare, though by now he's pretty damn sure it isn't. He hasn't looked at himself yet, but he can tell he's not in his own body already... are those spikes? Leg spikes? Hair? Long hair? At last, he gets up to try and find something reflective. He comes across a small glass an- EYES?!! EYES... Leo is making a continuous, guttural noise a pure horror. Seriously, who and what the hell is he?
Leo just straight up panics. He can't articulate why, but he doesn't feel alone here either. But no one else is here. Huh.

"Nnn..."

The day after Julian was brought back to the surface, he was an unintelligent being known as a zombie. Ever since that, he could not communicate properly like a normal person due to how some of his nerves malfunction after decaying. The methods used to resurrect him was the reason why he was like this: it was insufficient.

"Ehh---?! What is this?!" This is why he's shocked to realize he can talk again like a normal human being he used to be, and he could even talk with correct grammar! What in the world was happening?!

"Whoa... So this means, I'm alive again?" He took a gaze on his own arms, and it seems like he had a fair skinny, arms rather than his putrid arms with the skin color of a corpse, and his arms lacked the stitches, wounds, and bruises he used to have.

He tried to pinch himself, only to know that something is off: he is not himself. Feeling those scars he never had did not help, in fact, it increased his doubts of him not being himself.

"Whoa----!!" Julian was amazed as soon as he checled the mirror―he looks like a young, noble man! He was so astonished by this, he ignored the fact he shrunk from 6'0" to 5'1". "DID I BORROW A WARRIOR'S BODY?! I HAVE TO GIVE IT BACK REAL QUICK!!"

The truth is, he can't move. He was down knowing the fact that someone may also be in his putrid body. That alone disturbs him.

((I may have gotten carried away))

Cold washed over Talus suddenly, hitting him like a brick wall- It felt like he was dumped in a tub of ice water. and on instinct his hand grappled for his chest. Pure self-preservation guiding his hand to a painful clench. Something was wrong, and with a chill like this, it was unlikely he would survive long enough to figure it out if he didn't find some way to warm up quickly. He was heat core- without heat, he would simply die. Though the second his hand made impact with his chest, he knew something was... wrong.... Pain shot up his wrist, accentuated by a loud thump, rather than the 'clang' his senses were anticipating. Still, he dully clawed at his chest, simply filled with a sense of... wrongness.... His eyes darted to and fro, taking in the torn and decayed skin, marked with a deathly parlor. 

A shiver ran through him one more time before realization set in, only to be struck down by the strong hand of denial.

 He didn't look at his hand- or his body for that matter. He ignored the fact he wasn't dying a quick, cold death as all heat was drained from him. He ignored the pain he felt as his own holy energy rushed back to him- returning to its rightful owner. Instead, lifted his gaze, examining the room he had awoken in. A weird civilian home, its construction sturdy and with some materials he had never seen before, though still filthy all the same... Distantly he acknowledged the intrigue. In a body that wasn't his own, and somewhere he had never even seen! Still, terror had its grip on him, and it was all he could do but shiver in terror. His teeth rattling in his skull- another thing he wished he could block out.

He tried to stand up. Acceptance slowly settled. He shook his- this- head, and tried to move the feet, only to feel an odd weight on him. No, it wasn't like his armor, it wasn't the weight of metal resting on his back no... it was more like his own body was too weak to perform its own task. This body's muscles were likely too decayed to move without assistance... there was a trick to it most likely... He'd seen zombies shamble along with less... Talus pushed up off the ground with his arm. The bone creaked and groaned under him, and when he shifted his weight onto his shins, he simply collapsed forwards. Stale, dead air was squeezed out of lungs in the form of a deep moan. Vocal cords rusty, and damaged- too much so to use. He remained on the floor.

Why would my God do this to me...?

This was a fate worse than death...- It had to be a mistake!

He rolled onto his back, finding simply using his own weight to move himself was easier than controlling each and every constriction of muscles that clearly were no match for the construction of his old body. He hit the floor again with a thump, and stared at the ceiling. Lifting his above his face. Noting the corrupted, decayed skin that simply rested atop muscle and bone. Distantly he remembered the hordes of undead he slaughtered without thought- wondering if this was the fate they shared..? No... those were nothing more than shambling horrors. No intellect. Simply the thrall of a necromancer. Still he recalled how he would cut them down with little more than a spark of magic.

He summoned a flicker of blue flame to his finger tips. 

So his magic was still with him. That at the very least meant Heironeous hadn't forsaken him, and the pain in his hand as this undead body shrunk away from the holy light meant this wasn't some form of dream. So...A ritual could probably be preformed... Not a long one though. He couldn't begin to imagine what prolonged exposure would do to this body... Either heal it, or burn it from the inside out... He subtly noted the warmth slowly working into his chest, which could have honestly meant either outcomes... Needless to say being here much longer wouldn't be ideal. But... how..? His spell book was gone- Heironeous hadn't favored him enough to allow him any baggage... It would have to be something simple- something that didn't require powdered ruby or bonemeal, or anything of the likes. Maybe a piece of gold at the most, but that was pushing it.

He racked his brain struggling to remember what he had been taught a little under a year ago. Rituals that- being Warforged, he had never had to use. -Ah-  An atonement spell was the closest he could remember, and it was likely all he needed. It was a ritual generally for someone who wished to return to what they once were- usually in faith, but the wording was close enough wasn't it? Heironeous would hear out his Paladin. Even in a state like this. He just had to hold his faith close.

He rose to his feet slowly. Taking shambling steps through the house, now on a mission. Water. He needed to find some water. That was step one. He took four steps before he looked up enough to notice a clear glass resting on a table. Well at least the Gods had given him this much to work with.
 He stumbled forwards three more steps until he all but collapsed onto the table, nearly bashing his chin on the corner in his attempt to lean over and grapple for it. He grabbed onto the table, and hauled himself closer before carefully cradling the cup. It had little in it, but it would do.

He spoke. Voice raw, and incapable of producing the sounds he desired with ease, but he bent the unruly organ into submission, simply groaning out the singular syllables he needed. His throat raw, and pained as he continued with the mere three words. 

"In no....mi...ne H-H-eir...on...eous"

He seethed as the water erupted in untapped energy. It burned his hand, and the ethereal tingle spread through his entire body. He forced his eyes shut, and held in the whimper than nearly escaped him. He needed to continue. Swiftly- before common sense and self-preservation could catch up, he dunked his hand into the glass of blessed water. 

If that mere tingle felt painful before, this was on an entirely different level. Like frostbite, and fire both at the same time. Cold, and a brutal heat that melted flesh from bone- however visibly, no damage was being done. Simply a few wet finger tips. He rushed along, pressing his hand to his chest. Continuing the incantation through a clenched jaw, and a soul wrenching pain.

"Cume aux...i-lo dei ego red...eo" Nothing. No holy light. No familiar presence of Heironeous by his side. Nothing. He dropped his head to the table

"Pla-cere.... Pla...cere aux-il..ium" He quietly pleaded into the wooden slab. No tears came, despite the pain that would likely be summoned by... well, this. The tear ducts were probably clogged with dirt, or maybe simply destroyed and decayed like the rest of his body.

Nothing happened for a long moment, but still he stubbornly held the hand to his frail skin and bone. Suddenly the warmth turned from a painful fire, to something pleasant. Comfortable. Like a warm fireplace on a cool winter day. It was tangible, coming from his left side- with his eyes still closed, he leaned into it. Feeling the warmth grow, despite a short noise of protest from whatever was supplying it. 

"C'mon man, you know you're heavy!" It was a familiar voice, one of his teammates. "Oh my gods, are you actually asleep?!" Came the second quip with a loud boisterous chuckle. T

Talus' eyes snapped open. He was warm. He was back in his body- he rejoiced in the familiar weight his armor provided, and the weight of his core in his chest- one he hadn't noticed until he had been without it. He was sitting over a table, a sword under him, and a polishing cloth grasped in his hand. Jerral sat beside him, working at a war-hammer that looked like it had been dropped in the mire, and let to dry in the sun.

"Not anymore." Talus couldn't hide the audible smile that crept into his words. Without thinking, he engulfed the man sitting beside him into a hug- one that was quickly protested.

"T-Talus! You're being weird..." nonetheless, he received a soft pat on the back before being pushed off his fellow paladin.