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skylermadness · 1 year ago

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Crystalline Conversion (Vandham TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: July 29, 2022)

Original Description:

Another story written based on a suggestion from my friend Nat! With today being the official release day of Xenoblade Chronicles 3, I wanted to write something to celebrate such an occasion. Especially in part because the Xenoblade series has been a favorite game series of mine for a little over half a year now. Picking a character to write TF for also wasn't that difficult. Vandham is probably my favorite character out of the entirety of the three games I have played so far (1, 2, and X), and that coupled with how much I liked this idea made writing a Vandham TF inevitable. Plus I feel like having the first written work of him have an intense, heavily descriptive story feels worthwhile for a guy like him. He's just a lovely character overall and I wish we could have gotten more of him. Cheers to Xenoblade Chronicles 3, and here's hoping Guernica has a better fate! This story is rated Mature for heavy mentions of a bulge.

Inventory duty has never been Maurice's expertise, which is a little weird since he's owned this store for literal months now. But having to deal with making sure everything is still in place, which is hard when your store has no organization system. Coupled with the fact this store replaces the objects he sells almost instantly makes trying to handle this specific duty rather lengthy. Then there's adding in that he has zero idea where most of this comes from, usually having left that part of the job to the store's co-owner, it all gives him a feeling of literally knowing nothing about what he's managing.

Nonetheless, it's still a part of his job, meaning he has to take time out of his week to assess store stock.

The hirsute bear of a man walks out from in between two shelf rows, cracking his back as he grumbles about the annoyance of looking around the lower shelves. He then pulls up his notebook and a pen, proceeding to slowly check off various names (many of which already had checks beside them) while listing things off to himself.

"A'ready tied scarf, Delbin; Police badge, the'ret'cally Chief Bogo; Small du'l swords, unknown owner, should probbly have Two check that out…"

He continues to stand there muttering to himself while verifying object placement and registration. It was all the same as last week, and the week before, and the week before… With his last sale only occurring a small while ago (a month, not like he starts counting days now), this part of the job is just slowly getting more monotonous. Perhaps he should consider rebranding to a cosplay shop-

Still talking to himself and writing, Maurice starts to walk between another row of shelves. He takes a couple uncaring steps forward, his focus not really on where he was going and what his feet were touching. However his focus is quickly broken once he feels his boot collide with something, followed by the sound of said something rolling across the floor. Lifting his head from the notebook, a brow raised in question, he closed the object and stared down at the ground.

"The hell 's this…"

It wasn't hard to find what his foot collided with. Mainly due to the dim, lifeless grey color of the item being a lot different than the deep brown of the wooden floors. But the item itself was a rather peculiar looking one…

Maurice stepped over to it and bent down to pick it up. It was obviously a rock or crystal of some kind, and a rather large one since it was the size of his hand. It was cleanly cut too since it was almost entirely smooth save for a few crevices, but those were obviously in there for design. The way it was cut was also fairly complex for something it's size; twelve facets, four pentagonal-shaped ones coming to an upward vertex with four also coming to a downward vertex. The sides didn't come to pointed vertices, those being replaced with diamond-shaped facets instead.

His gaze wandered around the shelves, the shopkeeper wondering if this had fallen off either of them. But all the shelves seemed to be filled with the usual objects. He then momentarily disregarded the crystal and placed it on the edge of one of the shelf rows. He moved his focus back to his notebook as he started to run through it again, quicker this time as he was looking for if the object was logged.

"Row four, row four, row four…" he was whispering to himself in an almost panicked state. "Ah! Row four, now les see here…"

His eyes scanned the list of assorted objects, trying to find any mention of 'strange crystal' anywhere, but it was quickly turning out to be fruitless as this row seemed to lack any objects such as that. Not unless he missed it in previous inventories, but that seemed… like a slim possibility actually. But that's beside the point.

Closing the notebook, sighing in disappointment as he does so, he picks up the crystal again and stares at it curiously. Turning it around in his hand, feeling out the facets and poking the points. "Pecular bugger, ain't'cha…"

It didn't even respond to that, which… interested him, to say the least.

Owning a magic object store tends to come with learning many things. For Maurice, one of these things was magic detection and object call/response. A lot of times objects would respond to comments towards them by dimly glowing, or sparkling or something. This doesn't always occur though, as Maurice has recently found less savory and more accursed and vile objects (objects that shouldn't be sold typically) tend not to respond.

But then comes detecting magic. Having been working here for some time, Maurice is usually able to tell the magical aura of something just by staring at it. Wizard intuitions and stuff. And everything in this store has a magic aura.

Everything but the crystal he was holding.

He continues to gawk at the lifeless object, trying to determine if his growing concerns were correct. "C'mon ya' weird thing, glow 'r somethin'."

But all the rock did was stay dark.

"Mmmm, maybe this shop can summ'n dead 'r useless objecs."

He was half expecting the crystal to react to being called useless, but it didn't. He didn't really want to think of it as useless, but considering the way it was (or well, wasn't) functioning, it was far from something he was able to feel comfortable selling.

Lowering the hand holding the crystal, he had to think of something to do. On one hand, potent magic could activate it, but he has no idea what this is or what that would do. That was the same reason he couldn't stick it in the so-called Shame Closet with all the vile relics either. He could maybe brew something up that'd completely disintegrate the thing…

…Or he could just throw it out.

There was some risk to it, but his reasoning hinged on the fact that this thing had no magic within it whatsoever. Even something dormant contains trace magic. So it would be a pretty fine resolution.

Leaving the shelves and heading to the front of his store, he disregards his notebook on the counter and heads outside, crystal still in hand.

The outside proves itself to be cold the moment he steps out, not really being the weather to just be wearing a polo shirt and ripped jeans. Nonetheless, he heads to the alleyway that parts the end of his store with that of another.

Besides a few stray puddles, the alleyway was a pretty clean one. Likely because the small family-owned restaurant that neighbored him didn't want rats or something. Although it seemed the dumpster that laid beside the wall of said restaurant was left open. A perfect opportunity to chuck the crystal in it and forget about this!

A silly thought did cross Maurice's mind though. Lifting his arm up and pulling it back, he had decided he would just throw it in there!

"God, what'm I thinkin'..."

Well, he's already committed to it.

"Grruhh-!" He growls out as he hurls the object.

It ends up hitting the side of the dumpster, pretty loudly, and clattering on the ground. And Maurice could've sworn he heard a cat run further into the alley at the sound of the incident.

"Aw heck. Nev'r been the mos' athletic," he says, slightly dejected. He shrugs it off though, deciding to leave the crystal on the ground and walk back to the store.

What's the worst that could happen with an impotent object like that anyway?

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Even with a hoodie on, Nat found it to be pretty cold out here. The occasional gusts of wind did not help with that whatsoever.

He was hoping taking a detour through the city's shopping district was going to end up shortening his walk home. It was somewhat working, but it was still somewhat tiresome since the block he was on still happened to be the largest block of the entire district. It did come with being mildly quiet though, not many people being around and all.

He was roughly halfway down the block when his olfactory senses were assaulted by the smell of food, definitely thanks to the restaurant he was passing by. It was definitely doing its job at making him start feeling a little hungry, but not enough to really stop his walk home.

But once he passed by the restaurant, he found himself stopping. He had noticed a lengthy alleyway, but judging by what the other side looked like it looked to be a good place to try and cut his time through the block. Plus, thanks to the buildings in the way, he won't have to worry about the worsening cold that the wind doles out.

Nat sauntered into the alley, relieved that it was less cold than the outer block seemed to be. The smell here was a little worse for wear though, likely due to the open dumpster that he was beginning to approach. He attempted to step aside from it, but his foot ended up snagging onto something that was just barely wedged beneath the dumpster.

"SHIT-" was all he could yell out in reaction as he tripped over the object and fell onto the ground.

Hands already sore from preventing him from face planting, he groaned as he steadily got up. While relieved that he didn't fall into the dangerously close puddle that was just a few centimeters from where he was, he was also curious as to what his foot caught onto.

Curiosity turned to surprise once he turned around and looked at what was beneath the corner of the dumpster.

Well, beneath isn't correct. It was too large to fit under it, but it was close enough to the dumpster that it could be a hazard. But what was most interesting about it was… everything, actually.

Picking it up, Nat found that whatever this object was seemed to be a rock. Blackish grey in color, fairly large in his hand, extremely well cut, and being almost smooth on all facets. In all honesty it looked more like an extremely expensive gemstone, considering its size and cut.

"Woah, you're pretty cool looking…"

While not sure what type of rock it was, it definitely looked to be a pretty neat object. He did wonder why it was so close to a dumpster, and if someone was just trying to throw it away, but why would anyone want to discard such a nice (and again, expensive looking) crystal like this?

A thought then crossed his mind. "This would look great in my rock collection."

Perhaps its size and look would be a little out of place, but it was hard to deny how awesome the prospect of having this thing in his collection would be.

He attempted to shove it into the pocket of his hoodie, having some trouble fitting the rather large thing in there, but he was able to force it in there after a few seconds. It's rather large size was kind of proven by the fact that one of the facets' shapes could be seen pushing into the pocket's fabric. Plus there was the new weight added thanks to it, but it wasn't all that heavy.

Satisfied, Nat starts his walk back up again; excited to add this crystal to his collection once he gets home.

----------------------------------------------------------

Click!

Light switch flicking on, the living room brightens as Nat fully enters it. He lets out a long, calm exhale, glad to finally be home. He takes a moment to consider what he wants to make for dinner, but his mind quickly segways once he remembers the rock he found. He was rather curious at how it'd compare to the rest of his collection.

With his collection being in his bedroom, Nat forgos going to the kitchen and decides to head upstairs to his bedroom.

Once there, he pulled the box containing his rock collection off from the one shelf he had in the room and placed the box down on his bed. Opening it revealed a menagerie of stones of assorted sizes, types, colorations, all collected over the course of multiple years.

But as he starts to look down at his hoodie, he sees that something is… glowing in there. Well, not just something. It was obviously the rock…

"What…?"

He plunges his hand into his pocket and grasps onto the rock, the cold glassy stone now feeling warm to the touch. It takes another few moments to wrestle the thing out of the pocket, but once he does he starts to inspect it.

The crystal is now a soft blue color, glowing warmly while releasing a soft humming noise.

He decided to cup it with both hands in order to hold it easier, continuously staring down at it in a worried curiosity.

"What kind of rock are you…" he whispers.

As if it were reacting to his question the crystal releases two flashes of light while starting to hover for just a second, which ends up startling Nat into dropping it.

"What the hell-"

Interrupted, the crystal tumbles to the ground and Nat takes a few steps back while blinking his eyes, having been momentarily blinded by the mysterious object. Once he was able to see again, he readjusted his glasses and looked down at the crystal in worry.

Everything was getting increasingly complicated to grasp- "Did… did it just…"

He wasn't able to finish his sentence, being cut off by another blast of intense, shining light that was practically spilling out of the crystal itself. Nat was quickly enveloped by the light, warmth filling his body momentarily as he started to feel something within him alter- like there was something more to this warmth than he was aware of.

"Wh-what…"

He barely had time to properly react, the man starting to feel an intense pressure wrack his entire body, with his back being the area experiencing the most of it.

"NNNGHRH-"

Breathing intensifying, he could feel his entire form begin to pulsate. The pressure that had rapidly built up within it squeezed at his bones, practically tugging at them as his body was being forced to lengthen and grow taller. His spine was quick to decompress, his legs working alongside it as they stretched out more. His arms were getting longer too to fit the new proportions.

Despite all of this he was only gaining a few inches of height, going from 5’7 to 6 feet in seconds. This merely resulted in his hoodie becoming a size smaller with the bottom reaching his waist while the sleeves revealed some wrist. Beneath it, his t-shirt began to show just a hint of stomach. The same applied to his pants, the legs inching a little further from his ankles as his changes steadily built up within him.

All while his body lengthened, it was at the same time beginning to gain bulk. Intense heat coursed throughout his entire form, a feeling almost akin to a heavy workout settling in his muscles. At the same time came an odd bubbling sensation in his torso and gut, which was steadily shifting into bloating.

"Hhhhoh… what's… happening…" he spoke out in between breaths. His breathing was quickening, and he could feel his heart beating up against his already pulsing chest. It was hard to focus on everything though, everything was constantly burning in him and it was overwhelming.

Muscles continuously ached; pulsating, enlarging, and slowly filling out his t-shirt while at the same time starting to make its way to tightening the man's hoodie.

The muscle growth was more exemplified in his arms. Pulsations we're coursing through the limbs, his hands constantly shifting size but always ending up larger than they once were. They constantly were packing on more meat, a heavy thickness filling them out while causing his fingers to enlarge and lengthen into thick sausages in comparison to what they were before. Then there were his palms, slowly hardening with a callous as each hand continued to stretch.

Happening concurrently was the changes in his arms. He was still in a constant sensation of burning. His arms begin to bulge, clear definition settling within them. The hoodie rode above his wrists slightly as his forearms were increasing with mass. It went upwards more with each passing minute of enlargement, riding onwards more and more, revealing his thickening lower arms. As it started to reach his elbow, the sleeves steadily and cleanly filled out, in due because his previously non-existent biceps were beginning to swell. Triceps were increased too, defining his arm even further.

Nat could only get a glimpse of his hand for a moment before another blast of light, pale blue this time, assaulted him. A sudden spasm coursed through his nerves as a result.

"GRRRAAGH-"

He clenched both hands into fists, his arm muscles tightening as his entire body underwent another rapid pulsation. His height increased yet again, forcing his shirt to rise further up his body making the top end of his jeans and his belt visible. Everything else was effectively following the same pattern too; sleeves going further up his forearms, pants getting high enough to reveal a small portion of the crus of the leg, and the t-shirt he wore rising to show a bit more of his gut.

His arms continued to bulk causing the tightness of his hoodie to increase more. Muscles constantly pulsated, his muscle mass getting more defined with each pulse. Noticeably ridges forming within the skin, a more visible sign of his newfound strength. The sleeves of his hoodie only got tighter as a result, moreso with his ballooning deltoids. His shoulders were following his arms, bulking out while stretching to become massive, broader.

Nat let out a deep, shuddered exhale, his legs buckling slightly as the magnitude of the changes were getting much. "Gghhoh, s…so… hot… so heavy…"

His breathing deepens more as his neck enters the beginning phases of its own internal changes, the diameter of it increasing more and slowly reaching the edges of the necks of his clothing. His voice was also beginning to crack, with hints of it already starting to grow deeper.

His deeper breathing was fuelling the bloating within his chest and abdomen with, at first, subtle changes. His chest started barreling outwards, his torso beginning to broaden, small cleavage forming as his pectorals first started to grow. His midsection quivers, a churning in his stomach commencing as the area begins to get slightly pudgy. This then progresses further, gradually swelling more each moment. And with each breath he took, everything slowly advanced. Everything rippling and churning, his pecs and gut on their way to becoming bulkier and heavier, less subtle. It all just made his hoodie even more discomforting to wear.

"Tight… aaaahhh…" was all he could say. He slowly lifted a large, heavy hand up to the zipper. His bulging deltoids made moving his shoulder around a hassle, the sleeves of his t-shirt already filling in while the sleeves of his hoodie were constricting movement. The next issue came with the size ratio between his meaty fingers and the small zipper, making catching it in between two fingers a problem. But once he was able to grasp it, he attempted to pull it down.

Unfortunately, trying to unzip his hoodie was a strenuous experience. He could only get it down roughly an inch and a half before it started having trouble, the metallic object being stopped by his increasingly large pectorals. His torso was still within its phase of growth with his pecs becoming thick slabs of muscle. He could swear an indentation of the cleavage was already subtly forming in the gray fabric of his hoodie, but he was more focused on getting the zipper down.

"C-come down!"

By some Architectural grace, the zipper did as he commanded and got beyond the cleavage. It was also beginning to slide down itself, his hulking torso forcing the zipper down further. For a moment it looked like it was going to get caught in his swelling belly, but it managed to reach the halfway point and got pushed down the rest of the way by his stomach.

He momentarily stopped as he saw what was going on with his abdomen. While he could feel the same strength and muscle beneath it, it was obviously shrouded beneath a developing gut. Fat was accumulating quickly in his belly, churning and bubbling around it forcing it to balloon and push the t-shirt he was wearing further upwards.

All of this forced the slider to escape the bottom stop, the two halves of his hoodie now drifting to his sides. He knew he had to take action fast if he wanted this thing off before it ripped.

Moving around was a laborious and slightly painful task for Nat. He attempted to shift his arms around, constantly taking steps in order to find a good spot in his room to stretch everything. He was constantly worried he'd end up ripping the thing, fighting against the fabric to pull his hands through. It took almost half a minute of wrestling around with the arm before he could successfully pull his hand into the hole and slide it out the sleeve.

Everything was getting hotter though. Hotter and heavier and harder and- "Uurgh, fuck-"

Breathing quickened more, beads of sweat materializing on his forehead. His hands weakened momentarily, just, everything was getting harder to handle. But he forced himself to go forward, and while clutching onto the other sleeve he was able to pull the other arm out a little more easily. Once that was over he heaved the hoodie onto the ground before being blinded by another flash of light from the crystal and forced to feel another overwhelming feeling.

"GGHHHRRAAHHHAH-"

This feeling was still intense, still hot, but now it felt… different. It felt like a sense of power surging through him.

Another set of inches piled onto him as he went through yet another growth spurt, the bones in his back and legs (along with the rest of his body) lengthening for a third time since this all began. His chest packed on more bulk, swelling cleanly into his t-shirt as the hem of it rose up his belly. The cleavage of his pectorals started to faintly etch into the orange cotton, meanwhile his delts enlarged to fill out the shoulders.

His belt was the next major thing to grow constricting, now under the pressure of his widening waist and constantly shifting girth. The belt tried it's best to hold everything in, his jeans doing the same as the zipper slowly was getting pushed down by an increasing mass within. The same could be applied to the rear of the pants, steadily filling out as each second passed.

Having already gained several inches, Nat now roughly around 6ft 4, his pants had started becoming too short for him. His legs soon begin trembling as bulk starts to fill them out. Thighs steadily swelling, the muscles in them hardening and widening them out. His calves were bulking up as well, thick, heavy, pushing his jeans up even more than they were now. The denim soon started digging into his skin as his muscles were thick enough to further etch themselves into the legwear. Bulging, rippling throughout them, slowly but surely becoming visible from beneath them.

A surge of energy hits his feet, forcing yet another wave of changes. His feet slowly began to stretch, toes curling as both feet grew a size larger, then another. His shoes were a bit cramped now, and his feet were still growing bigger and thicker. The toe caps were beginning to bulge with the indents of his toes while the rest of the footwear was looking like it was swollen. The straps that held them closed were undoing themselves under the force of his feet, slowly but surely losing the ability to contain them.

Another strap on each shoe snapped as Nat took another few disorientated steps backwards, bumping into a dresser and knocking over a few things on top of it. Sweat crept down his face and arms, heat still coursing through his muscles as he was still getting an instant workout. His shirt was still getting tighter by the second, he could even feel some air hit his shoulders as a few rips started forming in the sleeves. The neck continued to constrain, the hem continued to ride up his belly. It was getting hard to think. His mind was muddling, either under the heat or the confusion of it all.

"Aaa… aaaahhh- f-fuckin'... ain't feelin' to well…"

He swallowed a forming lump in his throat. Was his voice different? It seemed deeper and accented but he… he can't seem to tell anything anymore.

"Sso hot…"

He raised an arm to his forehead and wiped off some sweat. "I… I nneed to…" His eyes closed for a moment as he tried to come up with what he wanted to say. Everything was confusing, muddled, he wasn’t quite sure what was going on. There was an odd feeling of something… pressing, in his mind?

“Can’t… think straight…”

His voice was cracking some more. Although it seemed to be for a while, but then again it’s getting hard to remember that stuff. And did it sound… foreign? And if so, which parts? A lingering sense, a feeling of unfamiliarity with himself was settling in Nat, but his mind holds for just a bit longer.

Nat started to stumble around the room, steps heavy and shaky, towards the bed. His shoes continued to constrain, feet uncomfortable with each step forward. His pants strained against his legs, both limbs progressing in their own muscle gain. Walking itself was even strenuous, everything hot, tiresome, heavy and aching.

His belt was unable to take the weight anymore and the buckle cleanly snapped, the rest of the leather staining before scuffing and tearing. A heat was filling his groin, the region working its way in swelling itself. The zipper of his jeans were already pulled down, button struggling to hold it together, but the growth in size forced it to break. The groin region was bulging in size, slowly falling out his pants as his briefs attempted to hold his meaty package together.

The back of his pants were undergoing a similar challenge. A fatal attempt to hold in his thickening glutes while his legs moved. They were already filled out, but a growing crevice was getting visible with each step. His butt was expanding and pushing out the seat of the jean's further, forcing them tighter. Even with pressure alleviated around the waist thanks to the open zipper, wearing these pants wasn't going to last long. This became clear once the seat of his pants couldn't handle containing his ass anymore and started to split open, revealing more of his underwear.

The seams holding the denim together began splitting; a mixture of weight, leg movement, and sheer leg size finally pushing past their limitations. His thighs widened, quads and hamstrings bulging out in opposite directions and tearing his legwear apart at the sides. His knees were growing increasingly visible, holes emerging on that area of his jeans with each step. His calves forced the legs upwards more as muscle mass spilled out of them too. His legs were easily becoming the same muscularity as his arms: thick, heavy, massive, powerful.

Heat was still burning in them as they continued to swell and stretch, pulling apart his pants furthermore. Portions of them were already beyond what they got handle and were torn from the rest of the legwear, material now sloughing off his legs and showing more skin. The growing in his rear split the seat even more, aided by his wide hips to force the midline of the jeans to fully split apart and causing his bulge to descend slightly as a result. Eventually the muscle changes would halt, but what fragments of denim remained would cascade off his skin, slowly flowing down softly onto the ground. This revealed his legs to be wide, meaty, and muscular. With all the additional shifts and changes undergone, he'd also be settling at 6ft 8.

His shoes were next, unable to hold any longer as his blunt, thick toes pushed out of the toe cap of the cloth. The straps that once held the shoes closed were all undone. The bridge of his foot pushed through the tongue of the shoe and shredded the top apart. Ankles bulged out, the overall size of his feet finally decimating his footwear. And while chunks of cloth drifted off his feet, all that was left intact were the soles, left behind in two simple steps. Air hit his feet, both massive with thick toes, wide soles, and an overall huge and chunky look.

The hem of his t-shirt was over his belly at this point, stretched over his torso and filled to the brim with raw muscle. His thick tree trunk of a neck was pushing out the neck, a fissure slowly forming down the midline as a result of the strenuous task of holding everything in. Cleanly split holes were also budding across the fabric; more of his rippling pecs, massive delts, and broad back growing evermore visible by the second. The fabric stretches so thin over his massive arms, his bulging biceps, that it starts to tear and gradually succumb to the thickly-muscled limbs, steadily bursting up the shoulders. Soon, his shirt was expanded beyond what even itself could contain. Rips and gaps meshing together, more and more skin becoming visible, lines of fabric and string finally breaking against his hard muscles. Soon, bits of orange fabric fell off his body and onto the ground as well.

Spilling out of it all was his body. A large, massive gut that possessed strength behind its fat. Slabs for pectorals, meaty and somewhat soft looking. Huge hands with thick sausages for fingers, connected to muscular arms that clearly show off a lot of strength.

An X-shaped scar started to emerge between his eyes, the scar slowly making its way across his face as his mind hazes even further. The pressure in his mind continues to grow, like a feeling of something overpowering him mentally.

“Grrugh, c…can’t think straight-”

A pressure ached around his face as a new set of shifts rippled across it. His skull steadily growing in size; jawline crackling, sculpting out into something smooth and chiseled at first. His chin then bulges as it descends a little more with a crease fading into it. His skull structure starts to make its way into a blocky, rectangular shape; the softer features it once had smoothing out into a more rugged, mature look. Protrusions start to poke out the diagonals of his face; hard, rocky, pointed scales emerging from those areas.

His eyes shut again as he tries to fight whatever is in his head, attempts to resist whatever is going on and tries to collect himself. “This… feeling… bloody ‘ell-”

The scar grows larger as his face does. The tip of his nose blunts, the bridge of it widening while the nostrils flare larger. His ears begin to poke out the sides of his head a little more as their own tips elongate to a point, the soft cartilage stretching out and thinning while the insides grow slightly deeper as the result of their new shape. These changes result in his glasses hitching onto his face, frames unable to simply fall off as they are now locked into its widening form.

Foreign thoughts cascaded through Nat’s brain, things getting harder to focus on. Resisting growing more laborious. “N-No, I… m… must be hungover or somethin’-”

More changes wrack his face in its constant growth. Eyebrows getting thicker, hairs on them becoming a stony grey. The scales start to bubble up and down the sides of his face hardening then. His eyes get slightly smaller, a grayish-brown settling into the deep green of his irises while his vision steadily improves. It doesn't take long until the glasses he's wearing breaks apart, temples breaking apart at the hinge as the rim falls onto the ground.

Eyesight woozes a little, momentarily shifting from blurry to improving for a few seconds. “W-what is… fuck, must’ve had to much to drink at Vargel’s… makin’ my eyesight all weird-”

Impossibility was settling into him, the feeling of being ‘Nat’ more fleeting as a new entity took over. Everything foreign, everything faint. Conflicting thoughts and emotions beginning to arise.

The nape of his neck tickles slightly as his hair starts to steadily lengthen. Follicles getting longer, the brown coloration of them fading away into silver as each second passed. An odd mix of styles start to formulate on his scalp as his hair continues to grow. The top frontmost portions arise and comb themselves, messy hairs melding into a neat formation as they continue to extend. A thick, pomp-like style is what develops in that area; tall, rounded, dense, and clean.

Yellows and blues etch into the follicles of his sides, the remainder of the hair to the sides and back of his head slowly cascading downwards. Unlike the hair to his top, the hair to his back was messier. Although it maintained the same luscious thickness, ends were sticking out and curling upward, an unkempt mane of hair trickling down his neck and onto his back. Despite this, it looked nice, full, and somewhat fluffy.

Confused stumbling continued, him completely unaware that the crystal was rapidly pulsating again. Another flash of light spilled through the room, and the moment his peripherals caught onto it his head began to ache. Hands trembled as he pulled them to the sides of his head, gripping onto them as his mind truly started to twist in confusion.

His neck throbs, the inner workings of it finally beginning to solidify his constant vocal changes. The vocal cords shift; growing, strengthening, widening, all to cement a new voice as his own. Previously, all it's been doing is cracking his voice, deepening it, giving him a slight accent, conflicting between his own and a different one. But now…

"I… ahhh… c-can't… walk very… Uurgh…"

With a final crack, his voice hardens. Deep, gruff, and containing a very noticeable accent; Urayan of course (what was he thinking, it's… Aus… huh)... But that couldn't be his voice, could it?

"Should've gotten another… one of the mates- could've helped with… uugh, Architect-"

He squeezes his head harder, a headache now bulging in his forehead.

"Bloody- this ain't… grrrruhh…"

A crisis of identity starts to truly bud within his mind. His own name was growing foreign to him as he was having trouble determining who he was. The past few minutes became a blur, come to think of it everything was a blur. He was having trouble recalling memories of his own, rather remembering foreign memories that… that he could've sworn were not his own.

Vague recollections of pounding down one or two drinks at the tavern in Garfront (how does he know that name, and… he's never drunk alcohol, has he?)

Congratulating some of the other mercs on a job well done- especially since this was a rather big one! (mercenary work? No- that… can't…)

"Didn't think I… had that much to drink, gotta train some rookies today after all…"

A small thought questioning why he'd be training anyone crossed his mind, but at this point whatever was left of Nat is fading fast. More muddled memories of a long life settling into his mind, much of it even he didn't care to remember, especially that name- there's a reason he's gone with Vandham nowadays.

…Vandham…

"Can't… can't believe I got so drunk I… couldn't recall my name!"

That thought made him laugh a little, the haze slowly but surely subsiding. It did have some stuff to leave behind, replacing previous skills with new ones. He could recall how to wield quite a few weapons like the back of his hand! He's usually had a preference for the larger ones though-

There were also a couple fleeting thoughts. Some smaller stuff that had to be done himself that he should probably get to once he sobered up- mostly awkward paperwork regarding payments and other job requests. Not the most exciting parts, but it helped keep the mercs afloat.

"Gotta get yourself together, mate…"

A trail of destroyed articles of clothing was left in the man's wake, and all of his stumbling around brought him next to his bed. Still dazed and confused (and believing himself to be hungover), he took a seat upon it to rest. Unfortunately, the bed was instantly proving unable to hold his weight and a sudden cacophony of creaks and snaps rang through the bedroom. There was a sudden drop of a few inches shortly after, his belly and bulge jiggling slightly as that happened.

Massaging a side of his head, Vandham lets out a small laugh at that. "Heh, I'm… guessing this thing can't support a big mate like myself's weight, huh?"

The pain was already starting to die down, although heat was still coursing through his body a little. Sweat continued to edge its way down his body. There was even a slight throbbing sensation in his crotch area, likely a reaction to his undersized briefs he was wearing at the moment…

"Don' quite remember puttin' these on-"

Come to think of it, he was starting to realize he can't exactly remember where he was right now either.

He shifted around the mattress a little, a slight itching sensation now entering some of his body. A result of scars starting to etch their way onto it. Down his left pec, across the side of his upper left arm, a slash across his back, a cut on his neck. Old scars multiplying across his body, all signs of a new life engraving in him.

He flinched for a moment as another flash of light entered his vision, although now it was oddly familiar. "What the hel-"

He was cut off, his breath suddenly hitching momentarily as he felt a slight discomfort in his abdomen. Sizeable scar tissue formed; a large pool of collagen spilling across the midsection of his gut. It was deeper in coloration than the other scars, an indicator of it being recent, with a slight area started bubbling in the middle of the tissue.

The light shone brighter as a reaction to this, the crystal beginning to float above the ground. Light was spilling everywhere, flowing from the blue stone and enveloping everything. Blinding white only intensified, Vandham closing his eyes as that light encompassed the entire room and enveloped his form.

Then it all stopped…

Opening his eyes, he found the light was gone and the source… disappeared?

There was still a minor discomfort in his gut however. Vandham looked down at it to find a shard of a Core Crystal embedded in his abdomen, a large contracture scar stretching from where it was placed.

"Still tryin' to get used to ya; huh, mate?"

All the crystal did was pulsate. But then again, it always did that.

His eyes then caught onto a pair of glasses that were laying on the ground. Or well, fragmented remains.

"Huh," he leaned down, bed creaking some more, and reached a hand down to pick it up. He was a little bemused by the fact that the rim looked so small compared to the fingers that pinched it.

Holding it up to eye level, he raised a brow in curiosity. "Where'd these come from…"

Inspecting the glasses put his mind in a slight moment of questioning, trying to rationalize who they were (momentarily fighting himself thinking they were his despite their size). It was enough to distract him from what was occurring on the ground.

Small motes of light slowly arose from the shreds of clothing that were on the floor. The edges of each shred started to glow as something began settling amongst them all.

The remaining sole of the shoes curled into itself amongst the light, the tip rising while the division between the heel and the rest of the sole grew. The bits and pieces of cloth that once composed of the shoe then floated off the ground, slowly making their way towards the soles as they themselves underwent a menagerie of shifts.

What would end up being the top cap and upper heel merged back together, the cap itself curling upwards as well while the front sharpened to a point. The former tongue of the shoe enlarged, becoming less of a tongue and more of a covering of some sort. The same applied to various other aspects; the pull tab, the arch bandages, the padding, strap guard, all of them were meshing and melding into various layers of some kind of different footwear. The straps had even merged into two separate pseudo-belts, meanwhile another chunk of shreds enlarged and transformed into two-layered knee pads.

All of this ended up coming together into a pair of complexly made boots. Chunks of leather connecting, sewing and stitching together, a belt wrapping around the back of the heel while the knee pads were left discarded on the upwardly curved toe caps. Multiple shades of green then started to seep into what used to be plain black and white, the inner layers of these boots being darker while the outer shades were lighter. The knee pads also appeared to materialize a blue gem on the middle of each one, metal buckles hardening to the sides as the second pair of belts slink over to them.

Then came what happened to the remainder of his scraps of clothing. Denim and cotton all floating and twisting, more greens started to etch into those as well as they began to undergo similar drastic changes.

Instead of simply restitching and becoming the new forms equivalent of what they would've been, the remains all seemed to undergo their own thing. A few scraps were growing, shifting and squishing together as they became a pair of leather bracers. Another set twisted together, deepening to black and oozing outward into a pair of fingerless gloves.

Many shreds became plain and simplistic objects. Some lengthened out, metal forming on the ends as they became various sets of belts that'd go across the big man's body. There was one belt that was meant for the waist; hard denim becoming a leathery blue while oranges shifted tone to green, everything coming together into a lengthier belt with an oddly shaped buckle and shards of metal studded throughout it. Many remnants of clothing then bulked out into pouches of various sizes to adorn this new belt. And out of everything that came from the minor clothes shifts, there was a clump of remains that merged together into a large, hefty shoulder pauldron that looked to be more metallic than it was leather. Beside the pauldron bubbled an orange, rigid arm bracer.

The largest changes came with the scraps that fused into more complex objects. There came some that enlarged into rectangular metallic plates, interlocking side by side with each other until they could circle an entire body. Raising from those plates was a set of belts that would give this armor piece an odd overalls look when worn. A strip of a thin, small and blue material emerged and draped downwards from the outside of each plate.

What remained of the cotton and denim fragments floated and stitched with each other. Black was spreading across the article of clothing they were making, thick pillars of red appearing on the front of the legs and back of the legs. The new legwear was undergoing an increasingly large size change, getting bulkier and baggier for a few seconds before stopping.

Now littering the ground were multiple articles of clothing and armor, belts and pouches, two big boots and knee pads. The only thing that was off about them was the size: miniscule in comparison to the guy on the bed. Rather, they seemed to be the size of how they would fit his previous form. Small and thin, although maybe slightly larger than his body would have been.

This was quickly rectified, however, as another bout of glowing outlined the attire. Everything started to enlarge again, bigger and heavier, better equipped to handle a thicker guy. The shifts in size were quickly packing everything together, pushing everything around and moving things further than their previous locations. It was rapidly looking to become a mountain of metal and leather.

Vandham continued to eye the glasses for another few moments, thoughts still trying to grasp who exactly these were before, but was snapped out of it when he felt something press against his foot.

"Hm. Ah well, they look broken anyway." He then decides to crush them in the palm of his hand. Quick, easy, like they were nothing.

He disregards the shrapnel on the ground, then turns his head to see what was touching his foot, which was shown to be one of his boots.

Wait…

Vandham looked down at himself again. His hardened pecs, his massive gut, his rippling arms and legs. Then there was that massive bulge in his undergarments…

He scratched the side of his head. "Bloody hell am I doin' naked…"

Leaning sideways to pick up the boot, the sound of another snap echoed throughout the bedroom before his position fell downwards yet again. The front legs of the bed screeched for a moment as they pushed forward, the frame having split in half beneath his weight. The mattress remained intact, but he could hear the strain of its springs beneath his rear.

"Heh, I should probably get off this thing quick."

Trying to clothe himself was a little confusing. Partially because his mind was still having trouble between familiar and unfamiliar actions, but he easily found himself falling into the rhythm of things. Why wouldn't he, he's done this every day of his life!

The armor was always the most annoying part. Having to place it upright and step into it, then heaving it upwards by the straps before buckling everything. Moving it around to be comfortable. Then came slipping on the pauldron, strapping it onto his shoulder with a few of the belts and more shifting for comfortability.

Vandham shifted around the pile of clothing for a few moments in search of his arm bracer, but he ended up finding his pants. Big, baggy, black and red, perfect fit for him really. A part of him wished there was a pair of properly sized underwear in this pile, but the thought of seeing his bulge bobble around a bit gave a part of him a strange sense of… euphoria? Self-indulgence? …Arousal? Whatever.

Getting the pants on was easy, then he had to follow it up with the belt. Somehow his pouches also all got unfastened, and they were also surprisingly empty.

With his legwear on, he was able to locate the arm bracer along with the gloves and wrist bracers he wore. Putting those on were easy enough, leather tightly hugging his calloused wrists while more leather wrapped around his wrists. Then there were the belts that went around his wrists and arm.

The springs moaned as he took another seat on the mattress momentarily, shoving his feet into his boots and putting his knee pads over the already layered footwear and baggy pants. With some final adjustments, loosening any tight harnesses and tightening any too loose ones. His gaze was then brought to one last article of clothing on the ground.

A grey hoodie.

He got up from off the bed and walked over towards the oddly familiar object. Bending down and picking it up, he found that it was already pretty small for someone his size. And holding it out seemed to prove that by quite a bit. It looked to only be comparable to his torso and abdomen alone, and that was pushing it since it somehow seemed smaller than that.

There was a fleeting thought in his mind over the concept of wearing it. "Heheh, dunno what I'm thinking. I'm much too big to wear this!"

He crumpled the hoodie up and decided to turn it around and throw it onto the mattress. As he did so, his attention was drawn to another object. A small box that was slowly sliding down the mattress.

Curious, Vandham took a step forward and looked into the box. It appeared to be filled with assorted rocks of various shapes, sizes, and colors. But it didn't really seem to be the most interesting thing in this room, especially if it lacked any Core Crystals to find. Honestly, most of this room was growing rather disinteresting. He wasn't sure where he was or why he was here, and the nagging familiarity of the place was getting to be slightly annoying.

He started to piece together all the weirdness of the scenario. "The hell did I do last night…"

Vandham was pulled out of his thoughts by a low rumble escaping his belly. Smiling, he patted the armor over the spot (particularly where the crystal was embedded in him). "Guess you're gettin' hungry, ey mate? Definitely be good fer us to get somethin' if I drank somethin' that strong~"

The feeling of knowing this place did come in handy at least. He knew where the kitchen was, somehow. Getting there on the other hand…

This house was not built for someone of his proportions, to say the least. At least back in Garfront everything was accommodated to larger sizes (usually because Blade size can be fairly unpredictable), so residing in it was without inconvenience. Here though, the doorways were thinner than his width, and the first attempt to try and exit what he assumed to be the bedroom was more than slightly annoying. Trying to make himself as small as possible in order to fit past a door frame was not a fun experience, especially since his armor still made him seem a little thicker laterally. Having that press up against your body (especially when you're still getting used to a Crystal embedded in you) is uncomfortable, to say the least.

"With how much work this is already getting to be I'm hoping this place has some good Armu T-Bone Steak."

Escaping that eventually led to a small walkway that he could just barely fit through. The top of his hair also seemed to graze the ceiling. There was also the fact that his steps made the floorboards of these creak sometimes.

Going down the stairs was another uneasy trek. Railing forcing him to go sideways, feet too large to really fully fit on a step. The steps creaking rather loudly beneath his feet also did not make matters any better. Not even Uraya's cliffsides made him feel this uneasy. Luckily, he was able to get down fairly unscathed; save for that final step that seemed to just break as he got off.

With one final right turn he reached the doorway of what his mind told him was the kitchen. Getting through the doorway was just as much of a hassle as the last time, but it wasn't as hard since he knew how to handle this now… mostly.

Just as expected, everything in the kitchen was small in comparison to him, but really his focus was now on the fridge. Squeezing in the space between the fridge and a table (which really just his rear bumping into the table and pushing it back some); Vandham foregone pulling the handle (knowing it to be too miniscule for his hand) and just went with pulling the door open from the side. Considering his strength, doing so was a success.

Most of the food in here seemed to be random leftovers, assorted fruits, and various other foods that needed to be kept cold; all of which was in a clean three layer system.

That was disrupted rather quickly once Vandham shoved his hand in there and started rummaging around. Rummaging meaning knocking things around, trying to pull some things out but having trouble doing so when everything is diminutive in comparison to you, and accidentally squishing one or two fruits.

"Architect, this thing is small…"

Eventually, after about half a minute of messing up the fridge, Vandham was able to find something that would be of interest to him.

It looked to be a slab of meat wrapped in foil. Likely already cooked, just needed to get it heated up. Unfortunately, it literally fits in the palm of one hand, so he didn't expect it to do too much filling.

"Likely not Armu, but this'll do. This'll do…"

#character tf #human tf #transformation #muscle growth tf #tf

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