Tayir
"Right, I guess hands aren't the solution to all problems."
"Hmm.." Tayir stares out over the lake. The shore is far. Too far to swim. Do humans float?
"I'll have to fly. But.." She says, waving her arms feebly.
"Right, transformation. Need to transform to fly here."
With that, Tayir looks at her familiar.
"Well, you're supposed to help me with this. Do you know how this works?"
The bird looks at Tayir for a moment, and dives into her chest.
The change isn't so dramatic as it might. All items forming as drawn lines that, once the perimeters are complete, quickly fill in with colour and substance. Shoes are replaced by long boots, wrapping up to thigh-length and capped with heels better suited for a ballroom than a boat. A mantle of feathers is outlined quickly over her left shoulder, providing support for the shoulderless blue-black leotard. Wristguards pop into being, small mundane black things decorated with more feathers. The ensemble is complete with a jewelled band that wraps around her left arm, each of the three white gems popping into being as the narrow chain grows into a loop.
Pulling back, along with the unseen feathery skirt, is the impression of two sides. A right side, which is more mundane, with bare shoulders and human clothing, marked only by the single feathered wristguard and the faint glow of the blue-white hair accents, and a left side, which has a long, feathered skirt, feathered shoulder mantle, and the jewelled armband. Exotic, but relatively restrained. Finally, the outfit is completed by the outlining of a pair of weapons.. small black daggers. They are outlines, and then the hand moves to grasp them, and they are real, coming into being so instantly there might be a pop of displaced air.
Transformation ended ended, Tayir could almost be a mundane human dressed oddly. The clothing is unusual, but nothing about her appearance screams power and magic.
It is in movement where the real change is noticed. No human is accompanied by a streak of being, blue, black, and white, akin to speed lines from comic books, accompanying and emphasizing each and every movement, from waving a hand to sitting up. And the afterimages linger, for several long moments.
"Huh, well, this is interesting. They don't seem to fit in me quite as well as they normally do. Huh."
"And there aren't wings.. but I feel I should be able to fly again. Hmm."
"I think I should land and walk towards the city. If I look like this, carrying weapons, whoever that is might think I want to start a fight."
Tayir puts down the daggers, and flies towards the Northeast, aiming to land in the uncontrolled hex adjacent to the lake and the gray city.