And up there... in your hair... in my teeth...

"My notes!"

"My hair!"

"My hat..."

Much the relief of our party, the mess of vita, sinew, and bone quickly darkens and dissipates; like smoke suddenly blown away. The mass of shadow swirls about the wispy essence; causing the phantom to giggle.

"That tickles... ooo... hehehe..." Says Trix, as a new body wraps around her spirit. "Mortsie, acting the maggot with a girl's feelings ain't smart, you know."

The darkness fades, and flying at thirteen inches tall is a curvy, giggling figure. "Oh, I loved this one. It even has me old accent. Hehe... oh look at me, I'm a wee little fairy from Limerick~"

Cilla purses her lips, staring intently. "A Flower Pixie... a Wisptail? No..."

Trix's new (or old, I suppose) body is a small, winged woman. With flesh like that of a flower petal; of gracious violet hue. What one may think at first to be hair, is instead like that of a budding rose, swirling atop her head; fading from its violet, into a soft, gentle pink. Her little eyes were like aquamarine jewels, dotted by small pupils; horizontal, and rectangular, like that of a toad or goat. Covering her body was a dainty dress, constructed of small slivers of dimly dyed leather, and tiny plates of darkened steel; looking like the severed ends of a teaspoon. Where Klyde had once had a sword on his back; this little Fae now had what seemed to be a needle, attached at the hip. The cause for the change in position being clear; her back now bore the wings akin to that of a butterfly, yet had the distinct appearance of yet more (and much larger) flower-petals. The wings were much like her "hair", ending in much lighter, more pinkish tips.

"Ah! Corpus Lily!" Exclaims Cilla, etching down more notes; now clean of their previous crimson coating. "Good choice. If something eats you, at least they'll die too."

"Bang on what I was think'n, lass." Says Trix, floating down to the table. "Oh, it feels good to have lady-bits again. How do you boyos handle sitting down with those damn willies flopping about?

Ariel's Alm shakes violently; as his body had vanished the second Morigan's voice was heard "N-nice new look, Klyde! Or, Trix? Is... is she gone?"

"I agree. Looking good, Trix." Says Ashes, ignoring the fearful god; and poking the Tiny Tot in the tummy.

"Aye, and you're a lovely cute hoor yourself." Says Trix, smiling with surprisingly sharp looking teeth.

A lovely, cute... whore?!

"A what!?" Says Scott; hearing what I had heard as well.

The Petite Pixie shoots her eyes wide "Oh, it's not what'ya think it means! I wasn't call'n her a floozie or nothin'!"

Ashes bursts into laughter. "I grew up around Western Dwarves; I know what you mean, Kl-Trix. I mean Trix."

Trix clarifies. "Oh, me full name is Trixie Walsh. Oh, thank Christ I sound less american... I was gonna slit my wrists if I kept sound like a yank. No offense, Monster."

"None taken." I say, shrugging my shoulders. "So... is it my turn to round this up, before anything else insane happens, and/or is revealed? At this point, I feel like we're in one of those 'Sitcoms' you talked about."

"Aye, go for it."

Asking for my paperwork, and thinking back to my creation, I lay out everything I know about my core, body, blessing, spells, my new elemental infusion, ect; anything besides what came next. Looking down at my hands and using God's Eye once more.

"Assassin Evolution Tier III, Mind-Walker. Ranger Evolution Tier III, Nemesis..."

"Nemisis?" Asks Sammy, her mouth drooping in confusion. "Isn't that what I put on my pancakes..."

"That's molasses Sammy." Answers Cilla, patting the slime gently on her goopy head. "Nemisis makes sense, seeing as you're obsessed with Tomoko. Mind-Walker... I suppose your constant visions into the eyes of your Others had led to that Evolution. Expect to learn Spells related to attacking one's psyche, altering perceptions, learning other's weaknesses, and other such magics"

Ariel's voice, suddenly free of fear, rings out from the Alm. "This is great news! Those are like; super good Evolutions for hunting down your targets. Just don't like... make little shrines to them."

I groan, the throbbing in the left half of my body now compounded with a headache. "Can we hit the road now? This has been the longest breakfast in history."

Cilla corrects me. "Actually, the longest recorded breakfast was during the peace treaty between the Western Dwarves and the Fae Courts of Lunari, at two months, three weeks, five days, and seven hours... they didn't keep track of minutes. The hacks..."