I woke up in my computer chair. That was the first clue something was wrong. I don't fall asleep there. I've fallen out of it once, but I've always
managed to make it to bed before my brain shut down entirely. So falling asleep here was WEIRD. Even more bizarre was the fact that when I nudged the mouse,
the screen saver vanished and the City of Heroes login screen appeared, informing me the game had lost connection with the server and crashed.
So, I'd been in game, probably in a mission, and I'd dozed off? That didn't make any sense at all. Something strange was going on, and experience
has taught me that when that happens, there's trouble. Okay, so maybe it was a little paranoid to freak out over falling asleep in an odd place, but when
that sort of thing happens to a hero, you wake up in chains over a tub of acid.
Pushing the chair back, I stood up and looked around, the power cosmic collecting in my hand. The room looked normal, Max was sitting on top of the couch
giving me strange looks, but when I thought about it, my apartment looked... bigger, like everything was further away from everything else then it should be.
As I was wondering about that, my pants fell down. With a girlish squeak, I glanced down at the tracksuit pants and underwear on the ground, grateful that the
shirt I was wearing was so large. Then I realized that the shirt shouldn't be over-sized, that it was meant to be tight around my annoyingly large stomach.
Letting the power fade from my fingers, I pulled my shirt up and over my head, tossing it in the direction of the couch before looking over my naked body.
Small breasts, a flat stomach and slowly widening hips... all familiar, but wrong. Especially what was located right below those hips.
With another, disturbingly feminine shriek, I pulled my eyes back up and looked at Max. The cat, entirely unconcerned, merely looked at me like I was an idiot,
even as my mind finally caught up with the fact that there was something really weird going on, and started putting the memories into two separate piles.
"Ohhh man!" I declared, darting through the kitchen towards the bathroom and the somewhat small mirror. Stopping in front of it, I rolled my eyes and
stood up on tiptoes.
Instead of a slightly flabby, unshaven face, topped off with bushy eyebrows and messy, brown-black hair, I saw a cute little pixie face, surrounded by properly
styled red hair, twin bangs resting on either side of my face. "You've gotta be kidding me!" I protested, even as my second set of memories
confirmed that I was indeed Tamara Reilly, also known as Major Starlight. Kheldian Peacebringer, youngest officer of the PPD, and the fictional creation of my
first set of memories.
"Okay, focus girl... or guy, or... Okay, I think I'm Chris. I mean, this is his place, that's his cat demanding to be fed. Shut up, I fed you
already, there's food in your damn bowl!" I paused, then nodded. That felt like a very Chris thing to do. Unless this was part of some evil scheme by
an evil telepath, but I don't think I've annoyed any telepaths. And what I knew of City of Heroes, and people that I knew as Tamara, suggested that
wasn't the case.
While as Chris, I had a habit of making plans and not following through due to... whatever reason I felt like blaming my laziness and spending habits on,
Tamara was a superhero and a police officer. She made plans and followed through on them because it was her duty.
Maybe it was the fact that I was a Kheldian, and a young one with only one (two?) previous hosts, but dealing with the mixing and melding of memories and
personality was happening without my really needing to think or worry about it. Instead, I was focusing on the much more important issue here. Survival.
Tamara Reilly didn't exist here. No birth certificate, no social security number (Which they don't even use down here). I had only what Chris had
access to, and while I was cute as Tamara, she could hardly walk into his work, or use his drivers license. Which led to my first requirement. Shapeshifting.
Worrying about anyone else could wait until I had my feet on the ground. Besides, I was on a different continent to most of the Legendary players. Until I
could find out if this happened to any of them as well, and until I could contact a teleporter capable of global range, I needed to worry about myself.
Two hours later, after tossing Max outside on the grounds he needs to stop whinging about being fed, I was wearing my work overalls and fitting them in all the
familar places. My hair, my face, my build and height (Regaining a foot in height is nice, by the way), even my voice and, um, gender were as I remembered
Chris being.
Looking down at myself, I frowned. "I feel a hundred pounds heavier," I grumbled to myself. Remembering the training I got about undercover work, I
didn't get too ambitious just yet. I was finishing up annual leave, so clearly I'd been exercising. A few centimeters off the waist, a little bit off
the chin... better.
After a bit of practice, making sure I moved and talked like Chris (Given the other template for my behavior was a teenage girl, getting them mixed up could be
bad), I was finally satisfied with my current circumstances enough to return to the computer and head online, intent on finding out if I was alone in the
strangest day of one of my lives.
managed to make it to bed before my brain shut down entirely. So falling asleep here was WEIRD. Even more bizarre was the fact that when I nudged the mouse,
the screen saver vanished and the City of Heroes login screen appeared, informing me the game had lost connection with the server and crashed.
So, I'd been in game, probably in a mission, and I'd dozed off? That didn't make any sense at all. Something strange was going on, and experience
has taught me that when that happens, there's trouble. Okay, so maybe it was a little paranoid to freak out over falling asleep in an odd place, but when
that sort of thing happens to a hero, you wake up in chains over a tub of acid.
Pushing the chair back, I stood up and looked around, the power cosmic collecting in my hand. The room looked normal, Max was sitting on top of the couch
giving me strange looks, but when I thought about it, my apartment looked... bigger, like everything was further away from everything else then it should be.
As I was wondering about that, my pants fell down. With a girlish squeak, I glanced down at the tracksuit pants and underwear on the ground, grateful that the
shirt I was wearing was so large. Then I realized that the shirt shouldn't be over-sized, that it was meant to be tight around my annoyingly large stomach.
Letting the power fade from my fingers, I pulled my shirt up and over my head, tossing it in the direction of the couch before looking over my naked body.
Small breasts, a flat stomach and slowly widening hips... all familiar, but wrong. Especially what was located right below those hips.
With another, disturbingly feminine shriek, I pulled my eyes back up and looked at Max. The cat, entirely unconcerned, merely looked at me like I was an idiot,
even as my mind finally caught up with the fact that there was something really weird going on, and started putting the memories into two separate piles.
"Ohhh man!" I declared, darting through the kitchen towards the bathroom and the somewhat small mirror. Stopping in front of it, I rolled my eyes and
stood up on tiptoes.
Instead of a slightly flabby, unshaven face, topped off with bushy eyebrows and messy, brown-black hair, I saw a cute little pixie face, surrounded by properly
styled red hair, twin bangs resting on either side of my face. "You've gotta be kidding me!" I protested, even as my second set of memories
confirmed that I was indeed Tamara Reilly, also known as Major Starlight. Kheldian Peacebringer, youngest officer of the PPD, and the fictional creation of my
first set of memories.
"Okay, focus girl... or guy, or... Okay, I think I'm Chris. I mean, this is his place, that's his cat demanding to be fed. Shut up, I fed you
already, there's food in your damn bowl!" I paused, then nodded. That felt like a very Chris thing to do. Unless this was part of some evil scheme by
an evil telepath, but I don't think I've annoyed any telepaths. And what I knew of City of Heroes, and people that I knew as Tamara, suggested that
wasn't the case.
While as Chris, I had a habit of making plans and not following through due to... whatever reason I felt like blaming my laziness and spending habits on,
Tamara was a superhero and a police officer. She made plans and followed through on them because it was her duty.
Maybe it was the fact that I was a Kheldian, and a young one with only one (two?) previous hosts, but dealing with the mixing and melding of memories and
personality was happening without my really needing to think or worry about it. Instead, I was focusing on the much more important issue here. Survival.
Tamara Reilly didn't exist here. No birth certificate, no social security number (Which they don't even use down here). I had only what Chris had
access to, and while I was cute as Tamara, she could hardly walk into his work, or use his drivers license. Which led to my first requirement. Shapeshifting.
Worrying about anyone else could wait until I had my feet on the ground. Besides, I was on a different continent to most of the Legendary players. Until I
could find out if this happened to any of them as well, and until I could contact a teleporter capable of global range, I needed to worry about myself.
Two hours later, after tossing Max outside on the grounds he needs to stop whinging about being fed, I was wearing my work overalls and fitting them in all the
familar places. My hair, my face, my build and height (Regaining a foot in height is nice, by the way), even my voice and, um, gender were as I remembered
Chris being.
Looking down at myself, I frowned. "I feel a hundred pounds heavier," I grumbled to myself. Remembering the training I got about undercover work, I
didn't get too ambitious just yet. I was finishing up annual leave, so clearly I'd been exercising. A few centimeters off the waist, a little bit off
the chin... better.
After a bit of practice, making sure I moved and talked like Chris (Given the other template for my behavior was a teenage girl, getting them mixed up could be
bad), I was finally satisfied with my current circumstances enough to return to the computer and head online, intent on finding out if I was alone in the
strangest day of one of my lives.