[b]Mynx![/b]

She has to start with colour. Shapes work backwards from colour; a hard line or forced shadow can make a gentle bend seem severe. She's been stuck with a drab pallette for far too long, constrained to the narrow ranges of human skin. Her boy melts, her features melt, she lets herself run into cold and pure whites as the basis for her canvas.

Blue. It was hard to be entirely immune to the influence of the Skies, and there was a radiant pale shade of turquoise she'd always loved; the colour of plasma coils and tropical water. Bubbles of it traced across her skin - too much. The colour looked plastic and flat if it dominated - she sent it to her extremities, her hands and feet and shoulders so the white brightened into blue. She then coiled bands of a darker blue around her core, around her chest and thighs and hips running to her knees, following the lines of muscles. Details in black, triangular around her back and knees, too sharp to be organic. Topical lines appeared, straight and sharp, accentuating the lines of her body.

It came together; a shape both organic and artificial; sometimes appearing to be clothing and sometimes appearing undressed, a lithe and living machine. But it was missing - a touch of faded red, spreading out from her heart on front and back, wrapping around her body just shy of her neck, shoulders, and bottom ribs. 

She kept the blonde hair - she'd always envied it - and let it grow even longer. Many parts of the face, too familiar for her to reject them - but longer and sharper canine teeth. The words she was trying to say was savior, angel, and living machine. Something that could love and protect, but needed to be maintained and repaired. That was who she wanted to be.

[b]Bella![/b]

That silver moonlight - it's close now. You can almost hear its soft footsteps in the corridor outside. 

Time has passed; there are curtains and sheets and fresh marks on the bedhead. After everything you've been today now you walk in the liminal space of soft breathing and fragmentary dreams. Rustles of silk almost conceal the sound of arrow-feathers brushing against each other in the quiver. 

[b]Ember![/b]

It is vital for the security of the pack that you cuddle this sheepboy.

Specifically there is the problem of the Azura Magus. Plundering Fang has already taken the initiative during your period of distraction to have her wrap him in her coils and start saying things like 'you are an excellent servitor' and 'stop resisting'. It's a powerful opening move, especially with Plundering Fang keeping a tight grip on the Magus' own leash. This represents a terrible threat to your role as Alpha and you have to Do Something!

[b]Dolce![/b]

This is your second time being used as a squeeze toy by an Azura, but this one also has literal hypnotism eyes. You need to avoid those! If you look into her magical eyes then you'll give up the competition too soon and the plan will fail! Even though she's firmly holding you and telling you 'my eyes are up here' you need to find somewhere else to look - but [i]where!?[/i]

[b]Dyssia![/b]

The Ceronians are distracted. You've got a rare free hand to intervene in the ship's affairs, and enough institutional backing from the Pix to have a good chance at forcing through whatever changes you need to make before a response can organize. You are a Knight of the Publica; part of your role is to help new societies develop the laws that will help them thrive. What mark do you wish to make?