10-27-2018, 05:34 PM
[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]Whilst most creatures went through the five stages of grief when something tragic happened, Feliks had always tried his hardest to move on straight to the final stage - acceptance. Losing his powers due to a weakening physical resolve had seemed to be a simple thing he'd been fated to the moment he joined Snowbound (then the Ascendants... then the Typhoon), though irksome the gryphon had never only ever relief on one supernatural thing to ensure his survival and that was reincarnation. With a phoenix's spirit confirming that that one power remained, he'd been more than happy to kick ass and chew bubblegum without 'cheating', so to speak. Recent conflict and one encounter too many with the Pitt shouldn't have realistically been the thing to light a fire in the male's bones again, to restore lost treasures left abandoned in a horrid life, yet there he was in camp... as a wolf.
His main form, as rugged as it was, looked like a true beauty in comparison to this. Standing no taller than a husky and long, unkempt fur a fallow brown in colour. Scars covered him from head to toe - an ear missing, a brand on his chest, a scar on his shoulder, muzzle, flank and two wounds seen in his gyphon body also sticking out like a sore thumb. The Striker wasn't sure what coerced his body into shifting into such a disgusting thing once more, he looked no better than a corpse and though insecurities had never stopped him from boasting about himself Feliks felt uncomfortable standing there as a lupine. His eyes, still that deep green colour, flickered about with some awkwardness, unsure how to explain the sudden shapeshifting. The male would've been freaked out, had the realisation that he could be whatever he wanted to be now if being a hybrid didn't suit his fancy not sank in the moment he noticed a change.
A tongue ran across teeth yellowed from age, Feliks wincing as the grooves of bumps reminded him of worse times. He swore his saliva still tasted of child's blood... no, now wasn't the time to reminisce over that. "Guess I can transform now," he called out, relieving those who stared of their inquisition. Now, how did he go about getting back again? Ah, right, he used his brain! Eyes briefly flickering closed, one could almost hear the sound of bones creaking if they were silent enough, before eventually the male was back to 'normal'. "I've missed you... strength," he mumbled, weakly smiling to himself.
His main form, as rugged as it was, looked like a true beauty in comparison to this. Standing no taller than a husky and long, unkempt fur a fallow brown in colour. Scars covered him from head to toe - an ear missing, a brand on his chest, a scar on his shoulder, muzzle, flank and two wounds seen in his gyphon body also sticking out like a sore thumb. The Striker wasn't sure what coerced his body into shifting into such a disgusting thing once more, he looked no better than a corpse and though insecurities had never stopped him from boasting about himself Feliks felt uncomfortable standing there as a lupine. His eyes, still that deep green colour, flickered about with some awkwardness, unsure how to explain the sudden shapeshifting. The male would've been freaked out, had the realisation that he could be whatever he wanted to be now if being a hybrid didn't suit his fancy not sank in the moment he noticed a change.
A tongue ran across teeth yellowed from age, Feliks wincing as the grooves of bumps reminded him of worse times. He swore his saliva still tasted of child's blood... no, now wasn't the time to reminisce over that. "Guess I can transform now," he called out, relieving those who stared of their inquisition. Now, how did he go about getting back again? Ah, right, he used his brain! Eyes briefly flickering closed, one could almost hear the sound of bones creaking if they were silent enough, before eventually the male was back to 'normal'. "I've missed you... strength," he mumbled, weakly smiling to himself.