((I know this is a large post, but bear with me, I'm trying to catch up from the beginning. I tried to condense it as much as I could though.))
Name: Gilbert 'Gil' Prichard
Age: 23
Species: human turned pseudo-dragon
Physical Description: medium build, covered in iridescent black scales entirely. Two curving horns go along his head, similar to the ones in my IMVU pic. Two over sized wings, and his long tapering tail is semi prehensile..
Gil had just settled into a bath to relax after three college finals and another fight with his landlord over the color of his lime green house. "Exhausting day..." he muttered to himself as he settled in, taking a deep swig of whiskey before setting it on the stand next the tub. He reached for the whiskey again as the sudden burst of light hit, causing him to cry out before everything faded to a blessed black.
When he started awake, realizing that he had passed out in the tub. His face just barely out of the water. The water was cooling, and he shivered. Something felt wrong, and it felt like his skin was on fire. He felt sluggish, drowsy…like hypothermia was settling in. He thought from the burning that maybe he had accidentally dropped the whiskey in the water, but the bottle was on the floor, it had rolled away against the wall. He started to move and it felt like his body was splitting it’s skin. His skin seemed to crawl with pinpricks and flames of pain, as if it had decided to up and leave him, and was in the process thereof. He managed to get half out of the water and he slipped and fell onto the bathroom floor with a wet smack. He looked at his arm that lay next to his head, his skin seemed pale and semi translucent, and underneath it when he flexed, his skin only half moved with what was beneath… and his fingertips were swelled twice the size of normal, with shards of …something… seeming to have been shoved underneath his fingernails.. He had enough time to wonder, “what the hell..?†before he passed out again.
When he roused, he was still on the floor, dry. He silently wondered how long he had slept before he jerked to life, which seemed like a bad move. His skin still feeling a little angry with him, but all in all, seemed to fit like a tight glove, that and it seemed to be numb. He looked to his arm again, where it seemed to hurt the most at the moment, and noticed his skin seemed to be coming off! From small holes and tears in his skin from the fall, he saw what had all appearances of scales. Black, iridescent, scales. He stared at his arm blankly in a sitting position. He felt something dangling along his jaw line. He pulled on it, then tried to make heads or tails of what it was he was looking at. When he figured it out, he screamed and threw it across the bathroom. It was his ear, and if that wasn’t shock enough, his fingers had shrunk down, but most of his nails had already popped off or hung by mere threads, replaced by wicked looking black talons. He stared at his hand as if it were some monstrous –thing- that had attached itself to his arm.
He moved the put his thigh long hair into a pony tail, but the hair simply fell out of is head without the slightest resistance. In the end, all that remained of his hair was a thick pile of hair on the floor. It was only then he even realized he had long growths on his head. He felt them and yanked on them. The skin hurt a lot, but whatever was underneath them seemed rock hard and glued to his skull. He got up trying to get out of the bathroom. Everything was all clumsy, and he felt like he was freezing. He went to the thermostat and turned it all the way up, and he threw pants on numbly, then noticing the large growth that was a long, scaly tail. He did his best to ignore it, figuring he had gone insane, and so long as he pretended it wasn’t like it was, everything would be fine. He shuddered as he looked at his skin again, it was a little more translucent then before, and he couldn’t see any veins, just the strange scales growing underneath his skin.
He took a look in his medical kit he kept for emergencies and pulled out all the bandages. He looked into the mirror and screamed in a lower then normal tone. His lips had receded and his mouth widened, baring his teeth, which had reformed into jagged pointy teeth. His face seemed a little long, too. His back ached something awful, and when he took a look in the mirrors, he thought he saw two large but vestigial looking wings. they reached from his middle back, the arch hitting his shoulders, and the ends reaching his knees. He put a dust mask over his mouth, filling it entirely, the edges of his mouth peeking out of the sides. He then proceeded to mummify himself with bandages. His legs had seemed to have mutated as well into digitigrades format, which by this time, had simply bounced off his numbed mind. He then wrapped that uncomfortably large tail onto the back of his leg. And threw on a trench coat, so it wouldn’t be obvious that he had anything exceptionally wrong with him. The tops of his wings just barely managed to stay within the trench. He slipped into his work boots and laced them up carefully, it did a wondrous job of concealing part of the change, but it was awkward to walk in. The protrusions on his head were larger now. they jutted out of his head and curving down a ways, which put them just barely in his field of vision, and only by wearing a jester ‘hat’ was he able to conceal them. Looking into the mirror again, he realized he looked like a demented burn victim or something, what with all the bandages, but at least he -looked- human.
He walked out of his home, locking the door on the way out, slipping a pair of sunglasses on, poking the ends into the bandages around where his ears used to be.