Chapter #8The Offspring of Two Cousins by: Seuzz   After Umeko has gone home, you take up the mask again. You could try adding a third person to its image, now that you know how it works, but you decide you'd rather see what a single "meld" of two people will do.
The spell to "seal" the mask is fairly straightforward, and you have all the ingredients on hand, so you move your furniture around again and set up to mix them. The result isn't as acrid and explosive as the earlier mix—and it doesn't draw your father up to investigate, either. With a brush you apply the resulting, paint-like mixture to the mask's inner surface, where it hardens almost instantly. You're relieved that no more "polishing" is required.
There shouldn't be any danger in trying the mask out on yourself—unless, of course, you've screwed up somewhere—but you double and triple and quadruple check the spells again just to be safe. It says that there is a special word and gesture you have to perform to remove the mask, but it is frustratingly vague on what exactly will happen when you press it to your own face. So there seems nothing to do but try it on.
Again, you take off all your clothes—after locking your door—and lay back on your bed and lower the mask onto your face. It feels very heavy, then with a rush that causes you to gasp, you feel it sinking into your face. You try to raise your arms, but they are locked; your jaw and neck are similarly frozen. You are very dizzy, and something seems to be pressing onto and then into you. You have a sensation of falling, and everything goes black ...
* * * * *
You sit up with a start. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and your fists are clenched. Did someone call your name? You listen. No, all is still. Light is pouring in through the window, and a glance at the clock shows that six or so minutes have passed. When you put the mask on—
The mask! You mixed a male and female image inside it, out of a perverse desire to know what would happen. What has it done to you?
With infinite trepidation you reach down without looking. Coarse hair, short and curly; something bulbous; and ... With great relief you find that you still have a penis.
Then—such is your perversity—you regret finding a cock there and not something more ... feminine.
Well, whatever. You examine it curiously, tugging and stretching it out. It might be a little shorter than you remember, but maybe that's just male pride and worry talking. Your pubic hair also seems a little shorter and less dense. Again, that might just be imagination. Has the mask done anything to you? You start looking yourself over.
Your skin is duskier, and shows no evidence of tan lines, which suggests a general change in complexion. Your chest doesn't show any evidence of having developed boobs—or anything else, for that matter, still being flat and undeveloped. But wait ... You don't have chest hair any more. In fact, your arms and legs are also smooth, with only a few light hairs on the back of your calves to go with that in your pubic regions. Your hands don't look very feminine, though your fingers do seem to be a bit longer. As you raise your head you feel something flop back onto the base of your neck, and you reach back to clutch a handful of hair. More strands fall into your face.
Well, that seems like more of a classic "meld": your own hair is long enough to fall and curl over your ears and the back of your neck, while Umeko's falls past her shoulders. This hair feels like something between what you and she sport. You clamber out of bed and go on your closet door, which has a mirror hanging on its inner side.
Your jaw drops when you see yourself.
The face that looks back out at you is completely alien; only dimly can you see anything that might resemble the original you and the original Umeko. It is neither Caucasian nor Asian; if anything it looks vaguely Amerind in shape and feature. You've acquired cheekbones, for instance, and your eyes have a slightly almond-shaped cast to them; and they are a strikingly violet color. Your nose has shrunk (in fact your entire face is slightly flattened) and your cheeks are framed by long, auburn-reddish locks—again, a kind of "meld" of Umeko's very dark hair and your own dirty blonde. The hairs are coarse and rather stiff, and are long enough in the back to be pulled into a ponytail.
No one who saw you would possibly recognize you.
Which reminds you that you need to get the darn mask off before someone comes looking for you.
You put the index and middle fingers of your right hand against your left temple, and brace your thumb against your nose. There is a short phrase you have to mutter three times—some Latin-sounding doggerel that doesn't seem to translate into anything—and then you tug with your fingers. At first nothing happens; you are only pulling at skin and bone. But then you feel something seem to rip away from your face. Your knees buckle and you collapse onto the floor.
* * * * *
You are again very stiff when you raise up some minutes later; you'll have to remember to lay down in the future when you put on or take off one of these masks. But a glance in the mirror shows you restored to your normal form, and the mask itself is by your feet. You get dressed, then sit down to ponder what to do next.
This new form you've created: Well, he's not Asian, exactly, but he's far more Asian-looking that you yourself are, and he's quite handsome if you say so yourself. (But that's gotta be mostly due to Umeko's contribution.) You can't go to school as him, but maybe if you arranged to be in a public place, you could use this new disguise to catch Lisa's attention.
Or maybe the attention of some other girl.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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