The coin mixes with the necklace, turning Apollo into the witness's (April May) clone.

(Originally written by Guyman at Writing.com)

"Ah, great choice!" Athena said, practically effusing joy. "That's one of Mr. Wright's earlier cases, where he was trying to defend his boss's sister and —"

"Himself from the murder of his boss, I know." Apollo finished. An impish smirk made its way onto his face. "You started five years too late to be following his cases, junior associate."

Athena flicked him on the (large) forehead, grinning ruefully. "I'm gonna go get some other cases of his and some equipment in the back — you just load up the program, desk jockey!" Emphasizing the last part with a playful poke to the chest, she returned into the clutter of boxes in the back, with a few crashes and muttered curses betraying her presence.

Apollo, with some fiddling, managed to boot up the old laptop — and gave a start when the fancy U.I. of an unfamiliar program flashed onto the screen, accompanied with a familiar voice. Hello, and welcome to Twidget v 0.1.2c, programmed by the beautiful genius, Athena Cykes!

"You should be careful if you ever put this on the market," Apollo shouted into the storage space. "You could be sued for false advertisement!"

A frizzy head indignantly poked out of the storage room. "At least I'm prettier than you, Polly-boy!"

Apollo chuckled to himself. This playful banter was something he didn't quite get in Khura'in, most of the people treating him delicately, what with being a rare new creature introduced into their midst — a defense attorney. It was nice to joke around with a person face-to-face, not through a video call. He clicked the surprisingly intuitive interface and brought up the file labeled PA-6 — The State of California v. Maya Fey.

The body behind Athena's head managed to extricate itself from the sardine tin that was the storage space. "Behold the fruit of..." She counted some unknown sum on her fingers. "Forty-fou— wait, forgot about Daylight Savings Time — Forty-five straight hours of work! Managed to make it look all pretty, too."

Apollo gave a whistle of admiration. Fussing about with the new device, he asked, "So, can I just wear it around my neck, or is this some kind of weird circlet?" As he fiddled with it, the golden coin in his breast pocket shuddered so softly, it was imperceptible to him.

Athena shook her head no, before producing two pairs of bulky headphones with a manic gleam in her eye. "Just a necklace, but we gotta wear these hi-def headphones. They're all synced up already, so we can start the test right away."

The two sat across from each other in the twin red couches, headphones resting around their necks. "If there's any weird feedback, just give a shout, Pollo. Don't want to ruin those eardrums of yours." Apollo gave a hesitant nod and strapped on his headphones in time with Athena.

The two closed their eyes listening to the case, Athena to focus, and Apollo to feel. He practically knew all of Mr. Wright's cases by heart, but this would be a new experience. He had experienced the nervous rush of ripping a perjurer's testimony apart, but feeling that would be new, as well as the feelings of career criminals.

The judge spoke. Mr. Wright and Mr. Edgeworth spoke in turn. Then the first witness stepped up to the stand and the ride began.

Apollo had never looked into April May — except for the few blushes and embarrassed cough upon seeing her in the videos — but he was learning more about her than anyone else had for a long time. She was smarter than people gave her credit for — though not by a lot. All of her testimony was accompanied with a burst of fear, her not being sure if the statements 'stuck'. She wasn't very confident in her words — reserving her pride for a more somatic aspect of herself. Every giggle and wiggle she let loose was carefully calculated, each with a small twitter of joy when a glance lingered for too long. She couldn't have told you the name of the governor, but she could wrap someone around her little finger with her somehow sensual confusion. Apollo may not have liked her — it was hard to, knowing her role in this case, but he understood her, and that was good enough for the coin.

It started on his knee, a small pinprick of lily-white skin amidst the otherwise tanned skin. And, impelled by the will of the coin, it spread, crawling up and down his leg, spreading the color across his entire body, along with a new texture to his skin, kept soft by a strict regimen of moisturizer and beauty products.

The next step likewise started on his legs, condensing fat and muscle into a new shape, pumping fat to round out every part, leaving no sharp edges, but sufficient muscle to prevent dimpling of any kind. It reached further up, first sucking his 'equipment' into a feminine fold, then set upon its next task, gathering skin and flesh for the new derriere. And so it was sculpted by the invisible hands of the coin, the hips slowly jutting outwards, and the flesh of the buttocks becoming denser, more cushioned, enough to protrude, but not enough to sag. It hugged the seat of Apollo's pants, practically sealing itself against the cloth. Following this, the core of his body compacted, causing a small shortness of breath that he attributed to Miss May's own excitement. His waist was combed inwards, causing an amusing juxtaposition of his new lower body filling every ounce of his pants, but his own waistband not even reaching his new feminine core. His arms lost mass, the fingers thinning, and the upper and lower arms narrowing as well. His shoulder cinched inwards as if in a vice, going completely unnoticed by the entranced Apollo, with his neck following suit.

The coin went to work on his face, tightening his chin into a softly rounded point, along with his nose. Apollo licked his lips nervously, April May being cornered in her testimony, the labial flesh plumping a moment after the tongue ran across it, and the small coating of saliva becoming thick, waxy, lipstick. His sockets widened along with his eyes, the lashes surrounding them lengthening visibly, and the thick bushy brows thinning in turn before an explosion of pink hair colored his scalp and brows, stopping just at neck length.

Then, Miss May's pride decided to make itself manifest on Apollo. It started with two pinpricks of fat, slowly forming behind his own pecs, kneading itself outwards, gaining flesh and mass, enough to lift his shirt from his midsection entirely. But that was not enough, the fat flowing into the new bags until they settled with a small satisfied jiggle, pressed into discs by the restrictive shirt.

His clothes underwent the next transmogrification, his tie unraveling itself and sneaking its way down the entranced Apollo's shirt, forming something that was like a bra, but possessed too little fabric to be classified as one. It could push its contents up, but did nothing to prevent movement, setting its motile substance quivering at the slightest provocation. His clothes lightened and split at the chest and leg, exposing the soft pale flesh of breasts and thigh. Apollo, sensing the new change in temperature, shivered and crossed his legs, neither noticing the new soft smoothness of his legs or the shake of his boobs.

His spine softly shortened and curved, putting his wide new chest and bum on display, and certain synapses connected and sparked in his head, telling him how to tease, flirt, and toy with those who were drawn to him. How to lure them in and have them 'take the bait'. Of unconscious movements to put assets on display, and just as quickly whip them away, to whet the appetite.

Apollo and Athena were shocked out of their reverie by the scream of Miss May on the recording, just as the coin tightly nestled itself between his new 'funbags' as April would have called them. Athena blinked once or twice, her eyes hazy from being closed for so long. Why was Apollo so... pink? Rubbing her eyes, she cleared her murky vision, and dropped her mouth in shock.

"What?" said Apollo, a second before his breathy voice caused him to take inventory of his new self. He looked straight down, into the grand canyon of his upper torso, paled, then let out one of the highest screams that the Wright Anything Agency had heard, to the dismay of Athena

"What... How... I'm..." He stuttered, pretty mouth tightened into a pink circle of shock.

Athena, having recovered from the aural trauma, pointed at the screen. "Y-you're that pink girl."

Apollo directed his gaze away from his newly painted fingernails to the laptop. He took a moment to process the new information and then...