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More from Toshabi
"It's just a scratch.... It's just a scratch....."
Part 2>>
Did this art for a Pokemon TCG art project inspired from MtG's flip transformation cards from Innistrad. You can see the finished card in the link below.
https://twitter.com/ZeraoraTosh/sta.....580964352?s=19
Part 2>>
Did this art for a Pokemon TCG art project inspired from MtG's flip transformation cards from Innistrad. You can see the finished card in the link below.
https://twitter.com/ZeraoraTosh/sta.....580964352?s=19
Category All / Transformation
Species Pokemon
Size 1280 x 954px
File Size 150.5 kB
WEEEEEEELLLLLLL........ since you asked for it.......!
The premise is this person took up a job at the Aether Foundation as a means to branch out and figure out what they wanted to be in life. Their friend worked for the Aether Foundation and felt that it would present some good opportunity for him to explore potential leadership opportunities as well as a way to become part of a group/community. Timidly, they accepted the post and stuck with their friend, who often did island patrols and research for the foundation.
The second day on the job, his friend invited him to join his small squad in looking into a local disturbance that occurred in a forest off one of the islands. It wasn't mapped or explored all that often, but signs of a strong pokemon were reported by locals of the island. It was so dangerous that people were forbidden from entering the forest, as many pokemon trainers came out with critically injured pokemon. A pokemon of this strength was exactly what the Aether Foundation was looking for, so our main character took part of the mission with some hesitation, but excitement to see his friend at work.
An hour into the night, the crew finds themselves ambushed by a Lycanroc. Within a matter of minutes, the entire platoon's pokemon were beaten and this Lycanroc had their eyes set on the crew itself. Knowing what was to transpire, the captain calls for the new recruit, and without wasting a moment, flings him into the Lycanroc, ordering the rest of the crew to make a break for it. Their friend, terrified and conflicted, unwillingly obeys the order of the captain and retreats with the rest of the unit. Now alone with this Lycanroc, he instinctively bolts in the opposite direction. In his mind, the last act he wanted to do was to make his sacrifice count to save his friend. The Lycanroc appeared to have taken note of this, but still continued to chase the lone grunt, finally catching up to him. Rather than attacking, however, the Lycanroc reached out and gripped onto his arm as if to try to stop them. Instinctively, he flails about when he felt the paw grip his arm, resulting in breaking away from the beast at the cost of suffering a gash from the Lycanroc's claws. The grunt kept up running till he eventually exhausted himself. He noticed, however, that the Lycanroc never made advances to catch up to him, but rather, stayed back and watched him from a distance. Perplexed, he only assumed that the beast was territorial and the simple act of making it outside of their territory would satiate any need to spill blood that they might've had. Relief settled in for just a moment, up until they realized that they were neck deep in an uncharted area.
He spent hours wandering the forest, trying to make sense of where he was, but fatigue started setting in fast. Slowly but surely, he felt a fever break out. Knowing his wound was infected and he was no where near any familiar terrain to navigate to a village for help, he lit his lantern in hopes of signalling his platoon that he was alive but not well. He figured moving about too much would drain what little energy he had left to fight off whatever infection was overtaking him. He knew he was entering some form of fever dream as he slowly began to notice things begin to change about him; his ability to hear the smallest movements amongst the brush in the forest, his ability to pinpoint individual flowers by scent, his ability to peer deeper into the darkness of the forest as if it were mid day. He noticed small changes occurring with him as well, but to him? "This is a fever. This scratch infected me. I can only hope that my body can hold out long enough for someone to find me and rush me to a hospital."
As he sat there in a daze, he felt his body began to push out changes more noticeably. He removed his glove and saw that a claw was making its way out of his fingernail, feeling his ear, he noticed it start to grow longer with fur emerging from the tip, feeling his side, weird rock like structures were emerging from his rib cage. He knew these symptoms were bad news if the hallucinations were this vivid and that his life was concluding. To him? This was some form of hallucination his mind was causing to help him cope with succumbing to the infection reeking havoc on his body. His mind now started drifting to random thoughts such as "What if I were that Lycanroc that attacked our unit? What if I, instead, saw the cowardly play that the superior of that unit did and opted to devour him than to single out the scapegoat of the pack? I wonder what it would be like to liberate a unit of such an unfit captain?". The more he thought of it, the more enamored he became with the thought. The more he wished the changes were real so he could hunt down the captain and enact revenge. The more he wanted to be like that Lycanroc.
With each passing minute, his body shifted more and more; fingers merging together, claws pushing out from their tips. His back popping and restructuring itself to a more hunched over pose, the feeling of a tail emerging out of his spine. He found that if he struggled, he could slow down the process, but he only seemed to do that to ensure he could reposition himself to observe the changes for himself. With a final snarl, his new face pressed into its new form, completing the changes. Losing all ability to stay awake, he finally gives in to fever and lets it whisk him off to his final rest..... or so he thought.
The fever left his body and his eyes snapped wide open. He picked himself up off from the floor and stood in awe of what had happened to him. It took some practice, but he was eventually able to stand up on his new legs and marvel at the beast he had become. Sniffing the air, a familiar scent filled his lungs; the scent of his previous captain. Gripping lantern with a feral grin taking over his face, his mind was only focused on one thing; enjoying the thrill of his first hunt. Before he bolted into the night, he saw it fit to put on his hat, for when his fangs dug into his captains neck, he can only hope that he'd know who that Lycanroc was.
The end!
I plan on drawing out this sequence when I finish up my anatomy studies a bit more.
The premise is this person took up a job at the Aether Foundation as a means to branch out and figure out what they wanted to be in life. Their friend worked for the Aether Foundation and felt that it would present some good opportunity for him to explore potential leadership opportunities as well as a way to become part of a group/community. Timidly, they accepted the post and stuck with their friend, who often did island patrols and research for the foundation.
The second day on the job, his friend invited him to join his small squad in looking into a local disturbance that occurred in a forest off one of the islands. It wasn't mapped or explored all that often, but signs of a strong pokemon were reported by locals of the island. It was so dangerous that people were forbidden from entering the forest, as many pokemon trainers came out with critically injured pokemon. A pokemon of this strength was exactly what the Aether Foundation was looking for, so our main character took part of the mission with some hesitation, but excitement to see his friend at work.
An hour into the night, the crew finds themselves ambushed by a Lycanroc. Within a matter of minutes, the entire platoon's pokemon were beaten and this Lycanroc had their eyes set on the crew itself. Knowing what was to transpire, the captain calls for the new recruit, and without wasting a moment, flings him into the Lycanroc, ordering the rest of the crew to make a break for it. Their friend, terrified and conflicted, unwillingly obeys the order of the captain and retreats with the rest of the unit. Now alone with this Lycanroc, he instinctively bolts in the opposite direction. In his mind, the last act he wanted to do was to make his sacrifice count to save his friend. The Lycanroc appeared to have taken note of this, but still continued to chase the lone grunt, finally catching up to him. Rather than attacking, however, the Lycanroc reached out and gripped onto his arm as if to try to stop them. Instinctively, he flails about when he felt the paw grip his arm, resulting in breaking away from the beast at the cost of suffering a gash from the Lycanroc's claws. The grunt kept up running till he eventually exhausted himself. He noticed, however, that the Lycanroc never made advances to catch up to him, but rather, stayed back and watched him from a distance. Perplexed, he only assumed that the beast was territorial and the simple act of making it outside of their territory would satiate any need to spill blood that they might've had. Relief settled in for just a moment, up until they realized that they were neck deep in an uncharted area.
He spent hours wandering the forest, trying to make sense of where he was, but fatigue started setting in fast. Slowly but surely, he felt a fever break out. Knowing his wound was infected and he was no where near any familiar terrain to navigate to a village for help, he lit his lantern in hopes of signalling his platoon that he was alive but not well. He figured moving about too much would drain what little energy he had left to fight off whatever infection was overtaking him. He knew he was entering some form of fever dream as he slowly began to notice things begin to change about him; his ability to hear the smallest movements amongst the brush in the forest, his ability to pinpoint individual flowers by scent, his ability to peer deeper into the darkness of the forest as if it were mid day. He noticed small changes occurring with him as well, but to him? "This is a fever. This scratch infected me. I can only hope that my body can hold out long enough for someone to find me and rush me to a hospital."
As he sat there in a daze, he felt his body began to push out changes more noticeably. He removed his glove and saw that a claw was making its way out of his fingernail, feeling his ear, he noticed it start to grow longer with fur emerging from the tip, feeling his side, weird rock like structures were emerging from his rib cage. He knew these symptoms were bad news if the hallucinations were this vivid and that his life was concluding. To him? This was some form of hallucination his mind was causing to help him cope with succumbing to the infection reeking havoc on his body. His mind now started drifting to random thoughts such as "What if I were that Lycanroc that attacked our unit? What if I, instead, saw the cowardly play that the superior of that unit did and opted to devour him than to single out the scapegoat of the pack? I wonder what it would be like to liberate a unit of such an unfit captain?". The more he thought of it, the more enamored he became with the thought. The more he wished the changes were real so he could hunt down the captain and enact revenge. The more he wanted to be like that Lycanroc.
With each passing minute, his body shifted more and more; fingers merging together, claws pushing out from their tips. His back popping and restructuring itself to a more hunched over pose, the feeling of a tail emerging out of his spine. He found that if he struggled, he could slow down the process, but he only seemed to do that to ensure he could reposition himself to observe the changes for himself. With a final snarl, his new face pressed into its new form, completing the changes. Losing all ability to stay awake, he finally gives in to fever and lets it whisk him off to his final rest..... or so he thought.
The fever left his body and his eyes snapped wide open. He picked himself up off from the floor and stood in awe of what had happened to him. It took some practice, but he was eventually able to stand up on his new legs and marvel at the beast he had become. Sniffing the air, a familiar scent filled his lungs; the scent of his previous captain. Gripping lantern with a feral grin taking over his face, his mind was only focused on one thing; enjoying the thrill of his first hunt. Before he bolted into the night, he saw it fit to put on his hat, for when his fangs dug into his captains neck, he can only hope that he'd know who that Lycanroc was.
The end!
I plan on drawing out this sequence when I finish up my anatomy studies a bit more.
...
Well this is fantastic in every single way!!! :D
Seriously, really like this story! Set up the main character properly in a short amount of space, with the right details for what would be relevant afterwards. Also, interesting to have the TF seen as a fever dream from their perspective. Don't see that very often. Excellent job
One thing I do wonder is what they will do when he finds his old friend...
Well this is fantastic in every single way!!! :D
Seriously, really like this story! Set up the main character properly in a short amount of space, with the right details for what would be relevant afterwards. Also, interesting to have the TF seen as a fever dream from their perspective. Don't see that very often. Excellent job
One thing I do wonder is what they will do when he finds his old friend...
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