Transformation Sequences

Transformation Sequences

I've always loved the idea of transforming into something else, and so to express that, this "Story" will merely be a bunch of short stories of transformation written by Quibblo members! Each chapter will be different (hopefully ;D) This is a Chain, so whoever next receives it creates a short story where their character becomes something else (Anything!!) and however they want! Have fun!

Chapter 1

Into the Maples

by: Shiranuii
I have always been the adventurous type, but I still followed the rules... to a certain extent. Wise too, and eager to show off. I was the first to raise my hand and show off some incredible skill I had, whether for to impress people, win a bet, or to simply develop the sort of ego I eventually gained that led me to be brave and spontaneous. I'd be the one to test whether the bridge was sturdy enough, to test which fork in the path was the right way, even to "test to make sure the cookies were safe" for my little brother.
I lived (and still do) in washington, always enjoying bright rays and trekking into the monstrous Japanese maple forests. Yet, being me, I strayed from concrete paths and asphalt roads, I wandered deep into the heart of the forest to a decently large tree; moist and soft, sturdy, covered in patches of moss on one side. This location was certainly a shrine to me and I'd always bring a good book or two and lay against the smooth bark on top of a protruding root. Here I was always welcome to spot scavengers or rodents scurrying to gather nuts and fruit.
I do not remember when, but I came to this spot in the forest, a brisk afternoon on the soft earth of fallen leaves I walked back here to rest in the quiet shade with a good low amount of sunshine; my own haven. Before I sat down to read, I placed both my hands on the bark and stretched my legs for that was always a long walk full of leaps and sprints over creeks and stumps. I knew that it was different this time though, I really could feel all of the detail, the soft bark and dew drops on the maple, I truly felt connected to this area then.
So I sighed and slumped down onto the root and began to read my books, allowing me to easily enter the world of the character, ignoring everything else, allowing my thoughts to slow down, and to calm down and relax. But then something clicked in my brain, and I set the book down, slowly, and to my surprise my thoughts were still fairly slow, but so powerfully detailed and strong, I noticed every fallen leaf of the Japanese maples, every flick of a creature's tail, even the peculiar shape of the pine-cones, how each piece curved up slightly and elegantly in a brilliant brown shade...
Stress of school and friends suddenly left me and I was almost confused, so I had stood and laid my back against the mighty tree and stretched my arms out and yawned, but I was not tired. Then I knew, in that particular spot, I did not want to leave. Not that I could have; the moment I leaned against that tree I could feel something coming, something that even I do not understand to this day. A small tingling that went up my spine to the tips of my fingers and hair, and I stifled a small giggle.
My gloriously blond hair had begun to grow longer, gradually but noticeably, and each hair had turned and weaved into the gaps and scratches on the bark, and anchored itself there. By then it had already taken on a dark brown color at the tips and was gradually the hue was working its way up to my scalp, but excruciatingly sluggish. I should have been scared by then, but I physically could not feel frightened, and I did not want to leave, and the bark was so wonderfully smooth.
My arms and fingers had grown a few inches longer above my head when I looked up and noticed the skin touching the bark had begun to fuse with the tree, and I apparently wasn't touching the ground anymore; my toes hung inches from it. Then one small branch grew from the side of my right foot, thus leading to my foot to begin growing incredibly long, forking off from my feet until it was unrecognizable as a foot, then plunging deep into the soil, as roots. I was then overwhelmed with the sudden energy and strength I gained, but I could never show it off, since I would never move again.
I felt no pain when a few small leaves began to sprout from the sides of my fingers, and when small branches rose from the surface of my arm. My arms began to grow steadily up the trunk until my hands lay limp from the anchor that was my elbow. Becoming wooden, my hands fused together to become a solid branch that grew unreasonably fast from what was my elbow; twigs forked and leaves exploded from the new branches, and then I realized I had no arms or legs anymore, but I could feel so much power and detail, I did not care.
For minutes the shape of arms that had grown up the tree began to flatten into the seamless bark until they were no more, as well where the shape of her legs were that had morphed into roots, until only the thick root was visible. It looked as if the bark was creeping up my body from my hips, but it was in fact me becoming the tree, a sensation that I could either describe as becoming tree, melting into the tree, or simply being pulled in, but being pulled in would imply going inside the tree, which was not the case.
By then only my torso remained mostly human, and the light brown color in my once brown hair had become wooden, and so the back of my head began to fuse to the tree, rendering me completely immobile.
(Because my clothes were not part of me, they actually dissolved as I grew deeper into the Japanese maple.)
When my ribs were barely above the wooden line, my head melted deeper into the trunk, slowly and calmly, but suddenly I was overwhelmed with so much ancient knowledge, wisdom of every speck of dust that rested on the branches and the type and weight of creatures scurrying on the earth several hundred feet away. I even knew somehow that my irises had become green. I knew trees could not think, they didn't have the organs to, but by some unseen force the maple could feel the nutrients in its roots and the earth around it, the life of each leaf and the energy flowing through it, the thickness of its bark and the wind that rustles its branches. It had no knowledge of hatred or concern, simply what was there and was not. I felt privileged to share this knowledge and to think so entirely deep and know so much that was never told in schools.
As slowly the bottoms of ribs were overtaken by the wooden morph, the shape of my body in the tree began to flatten out and seamlessly spread into the tree, taking on its smooth tan colors and resting the soft lichen.
I was surprised I could still see, could still live even though half of my brain had most likely become wood and grew into the tree. Plus many of my vital organs had dissipated or had become unusable, or soon would be.
I felt the tips of my ears barely make contact with the tree and suddenly was flushed with all of the realizations others were likely to have in this situation; I would probably stop seeing and living once my heart transformed, I would never see my parents, my brother, my family again, and why is this happening? Sadly, I couldn't bring myself to care; the emotion and strength of the maple fused with my mental thoughts, removing all anxiety and replacing it with immense wonder and detail for hundreds of years past.
With the new power I had acquired and accute sense of feeling, I noticed very intensely when my heart stopped beating and when I could no longer breathe; all my vital organs had melted into tree. Of course, Biology 101 came back to me then, and I realized I was living (and somehow still seeing and moving my face) because where my body had become wooden and sprouted leaves was doing the breathing for me, but not for oxygen, which removed the purpose of lungs. My heart wasn't needed because of the chlorophyll, sugars, and nutrients I conveyed from my roots throughout this body I now shared with the tree; I was part of the circuit.
The last of the change was what remained, my head, since the wood part of me snaked slowly up like tendrils, and they were creeping up my throat. I can basically describe it as sinking deeper into the tree, but it was truly just a fusion between human and tree, and the body spreading out once wooden. I could still see a somewhat defined shape of my chest when the timber overtook my face and took me into the tree, and my body no longer existed. My consciousness does.
Through the strength of my being I willed the last of my once shape to melt into my trunk, which had now become several inches sturdier. Like any tree, I cannot move, but in a way I am still human inside. My consciousness, or my once human thoughts and knowledge, fills up my new being and I am aware of everything for thousands of yards, and since I am still human inside, have the extra knowledge of color. I still remember my family and friends, and I'm sure they remember me too. If I could I would tell my brother of everything, and share this knowledge with him. He was the only other person who knows of my secret spot, and I have a feeling he is married now and has children.
I am surprised when I feel beings coming towards this area, but I know it is him, he has returned; I feel his changed body and shape and size, how mature he has become, and the regret he still feels about me missing. He stands upon my roots and feels a patch of moss, one hand on my trunk for support. An idea comes to me and I force my emotion and my past into the spot of connection between us, and know he has noticed the sensation when he jumps back in surprise. He is somewhat wary, then places both hands upon my wood again, so I will the connection. Then I feel every part of his being, his heart beat and breathing, even his thoughts. He gasps, trying to be brave and not break away. It is my chance, and I entrance him with every piece of my human life, not to overwhelm him, to tell him it is me. I speak to him with my knowledge.
He blinks in disbelief, but still doesn't break the connection and presses harder with his hands. I would sigh with relief if I could; I finally could speak to someone, and so I begin to communicate with my wisdom, always calling him my brother, then at last I get to the part of transformation, every detail. I share each image I saw as a human as I slowly became the tree, every thought I had, even the feeling, so he could experience it. He spoke out loud, even cried a little, at such was the extreme joy he felt, and confusion. Even with my vast knowledge, I still do not understand the phenomenon that caused the morph.
He managed to climb up my trunk and rest on my branches, and we sat there as he described how much I had missed, and the brilliant sunset before us.

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