Group TF Commission for  hudsonspacecraft,  rossydeer,  Stener_1,  Sharb, TrevorFox,  PalettethePainter,  LenoraTheYinglet,  jakeshiba1226,  Chester,  QuiteUnusual,  Miss Quakie,  Vanessa and Friends,  Wolfietheweirdo,  Vinomath,  TheRealSwimShady,  IrisG0ld,  Nya_Siamese,  Norami,  Clowitty,  TFedworld,  TheLupineOne, @/janacek.bsky.social, : iconScourge99:
Zeydaan wanted to host a gathering, though Bean wanted to catch up on some Zs, so said to keep the numbers low. Her sister obliged somewhat, though wanted to be sure that the schism itself was safe by draining it through a specialist ritual. Though two guests deciding to help out probably lead things to get worse. Zeydaan/Isabella's own energy feeding back through the entire house and getting the guest numbers unintentionally to the absolute minimum. Bean rather surprised to see people in her room, and turning into her for that matter, and anyone else into her sister.
Though with this amount of users of interdimensional energy, the already energy rich cottage would probably become an absolute glowing hotspot.

---

Guests trickled into Zeydaan’s house in uneven clusters, casual and unorganised as they left their coats and shoes by the door, dispersing throughout the house after Zeydaan had welcomed them all inside. Their friends were more than welcome here, many having been over numerous times for casual visits, gaming sessions, dinner… today was no different, other than the fact that there were perhaps more people than usual this time around.
As Zeydaan made sure everyone’s shoes and outerwear were placed neatly on the proper hangers and racks, the guests made themselves at home. Before they got too comfortable, Zeydaan called out to all to give Bean some space - she’d made it particularly clear earlier to her that she was planning on getting some shut-eye, and didn’t want to be disturbed. Alas, many had already ventured upstairs by this point, and out of range to hear this request, a few deciding to gather in Bean’s bedroom.
Below the ground floor, the schism in their basement lay active, teaming with energy. Zeydaan had asked two guests to stay with her for a moment and help sort out the magical rift before relaxing. Zeydaan descended first, very familiar with the slight shift in pressure that accompanied each step down, as those two guests followed her, taking in the unfamiliar sight as the room teamed with dimensional power… the air here felt humid and thick - full of raw power.
The schism rested at the heart of the room - a glowing, pulsating rift in spacetime that sat suspended in midair. The sight was quite mesmerising to the guests as their faces were illuminated by the light, as Zeydaan asked them to kneel down around it. Zeydaan had felt it for a few days now - the schism needed to be drained periodically, else it become too unstable and cause a range of interdimensional issues to arise. Normally it was something Zeydaan could fix themselves, or with the assistance of one of the Hawkmoths. She figured that it wouldn’t take too long to do it with some friends to help her out, speeding the process up. She positioned herself at the center of the room, sitting down and crossing her legs to begin the ritual - she’d done this so many times now, it felt almost banal. The others felt a little nervous… though hey, at least the Maiden Coven dresses they wore seemed like appropriate attire for such an event. It would help to amplify the magic… and just help them look the part, of course.
A sigil ignited beneath her, light unfurled around the room in the form of magical geometry, lines, and symbols that interlocked with each other. The others watched in amazement, before Zeydaan reminded them politely to focus - they needed them to concentrate for this to work properly. Zeydaan slowly rose up from the ground as if the concept of gravity had briefly forgotten her, her body suspended in an ethereal-looking glow. The two guests knelt at the edges of the sigil, hands placed where they had been instructed, eyes shut.
Zeydaan closed her eyes and focused inward, her breath slowing, mind settling into a meditative state. The ritual began, the energy in the room beginning to shift, redirecting as intended away from the schism to flow outwards. Zeydaan’s fae wings burst out from behind, shimmering brilliantly from the glow of the schism, and for a moment, everything held steady… but then, something slipped. The mistake was subtle enough to escape Zeydaan’s notice - the purged energy was coming out misaligned thanks to the guests’ untrained support, flowing through Zeydaan herself on its way out of the schism as it was drained. Parts of Zeydaan’s essence, her imprint, were caught within the magical energy as it flowed outwards, dissipating throughout the house and into all those within it.
Zeydaan remained aloft in the air, focused and unaware as the ritual continued… all three had their eyes still closed, a serene expression on their faces as they meditated. This altered energy seeped into the walls, the floors, and the ceilings of the wolf’s house, saturating it. The glowing sigil beneath Zeydaan pulsated, as the first signs of change began to manifest themselves.
The fingers of the guests tingled a bit at the joints, the cold surface of the floor below feeling different as fur started to sprout in patches, dark paw pads also pushing out of their skin. Their forearms prickled, hair thickening, individual strands becoming softer, denser. Their knees pressed into the floor differently now, weight redistributed through legs that were very gradually shifting. They would wince a little, trying their best to stay focused as the basement seemed to vibrate, the foundations rumbling below as cracks began forming on the floor, spreading out from the sigil like creeping vines.
Their faces shifted… jawlines eased forward by fractions, cheekbones lifting imperceptibly. The bridge of each nose darkened slightly, the cartilage reshaping under skin that had also begun to become furry. Simultaneously, their ears tingled as they grew out, as long, dark strands of hair slid further down their backs from underneath their witch hats, growing heavier… fuller. Neither one of them picked up on the changes befalling them beyond a vague sense of something feeling off - surely that was a sensation caused by the ritual, they thought.
The expulsion of the energy was creating a sort of feedback loop as it travelled through Zeydaan’s essence, coming out magnified. Her hair floated, blowing slightly in an invisible wind as their form was outlined with a glowing aura. All of this altered energy continued to spread throughout the house; it had begun to manifest in the rooms above.
In the living room and kitchen, ten guests were idly chatting, waiting for their host to return. They occupied a range of positions - sat at the dining table, leaning against walls… all, unaware that their skin was growing new blueish lilac fur, surfacing in places that clothing hid poorly - along collarbones, creeping up necks, spreading across forearms. It was pale and fine at first, easily mistaken for goosebumps or static at a distance. Nails darkened at the tips, growing longer and widening, though no one stopped to look at them long enough to notice, the guests were too busy making small talk and catching up with one another.
Two of the guests wore French maid outfits, their attire already theatrical enough to distract from subtler changes occurring at this stage. Lace brushed against skin that was slowly becoming increasingly furred, stockings stretched over calves that were shifting in shape, aprons rode higher as torsos lengthened… they were too busy talking about sushi recipes to take note. Across the room, everyone’s hair deepened in colour almost uniformly. Styles lost their original uniqueness as they all began to look rather similar. Some guests absently swept hair from their faces, noting only that it seemed heavier than before, or the fact that the tips had been dyed red. Faces got progressively fuzzier, cheekbones lifting, mouths reshaping into slightly longer, more pronounced muzzles that had not yet fully claimed their new contours. The hue of their eyes began altering, shifting to a ruby colouration as at the same time, their teeth sharped within their mouths.
Expressions remained casual throughout all of this, unaware of the convergence taking place. Not only that, but everyone, regardless of what they’d been going by before, instinctively referred to each other as a ‘she’ as they continued talking. It just seemed like the obvious thing to say, maybe helped by the fact that they all seemed to have developed or maintained a moderate chest size.
Upstairs, one of the guests sat at a window, their weight leaned comfortably against the wall as they watched the city lights in the distance. The glass reflected their face ever so slightly, the indoor lights breaking up the image enough to obscure detail… they did not see the slow morphing of their silhouette - the way their neck began to sprout fur, or how their ears were starting to lengthen. A shiver passed through them as fur spread across their back, short and dense beneath their clothing. Their hands rested against the window frame, fingers splaying slightly wider than before, pads forming beneath the skin. Nails darkened and thickened, though the changes went unnoticed despite all of this, their gaze remained firmly fixed on the view outside. Their face shifted in small increments; these moments passed slowly enough to not draw their attention downward. Their jaw extended subtly, chin reshaping to become more pronounced whilst their nose darkened at the tip, cartilage easing forward. Hair spilled further down their back, long and dark, and when they shifted their weight around to find a more comfortable seating position, a new fluffy tail sprung forth from above their trousers.
In Zeydaan’s bedroom, four guests were pursuing the many sketches hung up on the wall, as if wandering around their own little private art gallery. Their figures were altering as they did this - glasses being pushed out by an expanding snout, waist beginning to feel oddly warm, a Nia cosplay feeling strangely tailor fitted for them. Their thighs broadened against fabric, feet pressed more firmly into the floorboards as the arches reshaped, toes growing out dark nails as they took on new canine appearances. Their tails had not yet emerged fully, but pressure built at the base of each of their spines, any awareness of this dismissed as discomfort from sitting on their bums for too long.
Down in the basement, the ritual continued. The sigil no longer glowed as brightly, but it still retained a fainter luminescence. Energy continued to spill out of the schism in waves, each one carrying more of Zeydaan’s imprint outward, though now with diminishing strength as the ritual drew closer to a conclusion. No one in the house noticed the transformation befalling them yet. The changes were too gradual, and the guests throughout the house were too caught-up in their own conversations and activities. Each guest felt only minor oddities - clothing fitting strangely, warmth beneath skin…
The upstairs bedroom reserved for Bean had become, despite her intentions, a gathering place. A handful of guests had drifted in earlier, mingling noisily below the gentle sway of the hammock suspended near the ceiling. Perched on bean bags, fooling around with swords, watching noisy videos… Bean did their best to keep their eyes shut, to sleep through the ruckus.
In a strange turn of events, the energy that had made its way up here was now using Bean as a sort of conduit, their essence overwriting Zeydaan’s as it travelled away from them, through the moth, and then passing to the ‘intruders’ below. One of the guests shifted on the beanbag, feeling an unexpected warmth spread across their shoulders. Another leaned back against the wall and exhaled slowly, scrolling idly on their phone whilst being totally unaware that their spine was shifting to support a new posture.
New fuzz begun forming - a pale, creamy layer that hid their old skin under a generous amount of floofiness. The fuzz bloomed outward until it became plush fur. Their faces rounded, cheekbones smoothing as jaws shortened. Noses retreated, vanishing into nothingness as their eyes widened, growing large and reflecting the dim light of the room to make them look increasingly cute.
A pressure built at the forehead of one guest, as two slender shapes began to push upward beneath skin. Antennae emerged slowly, unfurling in graceful arcs, their bases thick and sensitive. The sensation was not unpleasant - more like stretching after a long rest, as the others followed suit, each sprouting a matching pair, dark and curved whilst their overall statures shrunk down, bodies getting more round. Along their backs and shoulders, wings protruded out as they felt light and nimble, fluttering as they escaped from underneath their increasingly ill-fitting clothing. Legs shortened, thighs thickened, feet reshaped into soft dark pads, and all the while, the hammock above them swayed and rocked as Bean did their best to sleep.
She stirred, groggily opening her eyes as they turned to look down from their vantage point. The sight took a moment to sink in, her eyes following the movements of her clones below as she blinked heavily. It took a little moment before they figured it out. The schism. Of course. That same dimensional magic that always found a way to complicate things for her… especially, it seems, whenever she’s trying to take a nap or relax. She watched for another second, antennae drooped slightly, and after a small dismissive roll of her eyes, Bean let her head sink back into the hammock. The fabric swayed gently as she resettled herself, wings folding in - whatever was happening below wasn’t her problem.
As the bodged ritual drew to a close, the minds of the guests started to shift, as their physical bodies finished their transformation into that of their host. A few of the guests found themselves standing differently… speaking patterns and mannerisms wavering from their own to resemble Zeydaan’s more closely. Foreign memories and thoughts began to trickle into their minds… a sense of belonging to the Hawkmoths, for one. It was as if they’d lived all these experiences that were coming to them now… all of those fantastical adventures across the multiverse with their friends. Casual memories of wandering around Mailor surfaced… familiar paths they’d walked, local shops they’d perused. They still held on to their original identity, though that of Zeydaan had been thrust upon them like an alternate identity.
In the basement, the ritual finally wound down in earnest. The last residual glow faded from the sigil, its lines dulling until they were nothing more than faint impressions on concrete. Zeydaan’s feet returned fully to the ground, opening her eyes to take in the altered schism - it was much smaller and fainter now. She smiled softly, satisfied, before turning to look at her helpers… they rose off of their knees, looking at each other, and then to Zeydaan - back and forth with shocked expressions. They all turned to see someone running down the stairs to tell them what had happened up above, the last vestiges of their old beak softening into a canine muzzle as Zeydaan’s voice came out of their mouth.
The schism had been stabilised. The ritual had worked, technically… albeit with some fairly obvious complications. Zeydaan went up to take a look at the damage for herself, figuring the inexperience of her helpers must have been the culprit behind this rather odd situation. Whatever confusion or worry they felt passed quickly, replaced by amusement. Magic did this sometimes, despite one’s best efforts to control it… it's chaotic by nature. What mattered was the house was safe, the schism’s energy was drained, and everyone was fine.
The twinning would unravel on its own, sooner or later. Till then… well, it was quite fun to think of what they could all get up to as clones with very similar mindsets. They all had a good laugh about the situation, settling in for a fun night together.