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The Recesses Of My Mind (part 1); (Transformation 1) Easy Quest | COMPLETE
Topic Started: Oct 25 2011, 09:31 PM (291 Views)
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The Real Red Magma
Transformation 1

Difficulty: Easy

Location: Planet Frieza

Description:
What good is a Changeling who cannot transform?

Frustrated with your lack of ability, and shamed by others, you seek out a powerful changeling warrior for advice. He decides to show you how to transform, but it is not quite as easy as you think...

Reward: +25 all stats and Transformation 1

Available: Always
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The Real Red Magma
Frieza’s face was lost in thought, his teeth baring out of the sheer frustration that he suffered. Why couldn’t he transform?! His power lay there waiting to be released and yet, for some unfathomable reason he could not unleash his true potential. As though his mind had been wiped clean of all knowledge of the techniques since his awakening, Frieza struggled to accept that he’d lost this ability that set the changelings apart from the lower species of life that inhabited this galaxy…

This accursed fool, whomever buried me in that damn tomb will have hell to pay when I find out just who they are!” he declared to the frozen night sky, pounding heavily upon a nearby rock. “How can such a dated technique evade my reach?” his voice grew shallow, quiet and uncommonly pained.

The dark recesses of ones mind can be an illusive and harrowing place when not in control of your mentality. In Frieza’s case this mental state was certainly dangerous; a state of insecurity. Right now the changeling’s subconscious self was suffering from great shock and mild amnesia, turning it into a hostile environment that one would likely perish should they return to such a place. If it meant getting back his transformation, however, Frieza would brave any obstacle that would stand in his way…

The Prince knew that the path to unlocking his memories would be a long and certainly treacherous road, one with a challenge at every step no doubt. The question was… just how well to did Frieza know his self?

Raditz was now dead and Janix gallivanting off somewhere after their small discussion. Obviously Frieza had more pressing matters to concern himself with. It was imperative that he find the perpetrator of these attacks. It would only serve to the Prince’s annoyance, however, that the alleged attacker shares a similar appearance with the young Mido himself.

The changeling, however, knew this could not be the case. As impressive as his skills at battle are, Janix could certainly not have done this to him. Frieza would certainly not be bested in battle by a runt such as he – not to mention the countless minions trained in battle that protected his beloved fortress…

Again the Prince cast himself to the task at hand. He knew just the location where to access the depths of his intelligent, fabulous mind.

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WC: 395/1,800
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The Real Red Magma
Frieza had to go back, not in time of course, but to the very place where he'd learnt the fabled transformation that all his kind were feared for. It was untrue to say that transformations in this galaxy were something of a novelty, for they certainly weren't. The changelings, however, had a metamorphosis of a unique variety.

Other races, for example, have transformations that increase their power, speed and so on. These changes rarely provide some external change, usually increasing the threshold for their power capacity. The changelings, however, bring something much more potent to their various forms.

It is said that each further transformation a changeling undergoes is, in fact, a step further to their true self. When the first changelings harnessed their violent, massive Ki capacities, they soon died of young age due to such a huge inefficient use (or loss) of energy. Gradually transformations were developed, the cold beasts locking away their potential behind various, ghastly forms and appearances.

So, unlike the remaining races of the universe that transform to increase their output, the changelings transform to unlock and regain what power they can, in fact, muster. It does, however, take a keen individual to unlock such hidden power. Now that most changelings are born in their weakest of forms, unlike their ancestors, it is now a challenge to obtain your true form.

True power.

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Frieza approached a low mountain that gradually sloped into a distant village, the opposing face dropping harshly into the bright, white depths of frozen tundra. A steep impression in the mountainside signalled the changeling's destination, the place where he first learnt to morph.

The untouched snow had settled loosely upon the overhang that shielded the entrance to Citcra's lair. His bloodied and bruised body lay where he'd fallen to his brother's hand those many years ago. A neat hole had punched through his chest, purple blood frozen to his wounded breast. The room itself was tidy, save the invading snow that had crept and receded over time. Frieza cast a pitied gaze over his past mentor, feint measures of anger still flexing at his finger tips. He'd gained his revenge on the murderer, however, that battle still fresh in his mind.

To think that so long ago the great Prince was but a meagre 15,000 or so when he'd furthered himself to a second transformation. Now, however, Frieza could barely manage his first original form despite being capable of a power that he'd long forgotten. The days of galactic rule had passed and Frieza had been pushed from the shadows time and time again...

Now, at the disdain of all whom lived in the galaxy, was time for the Prince to rise from the ashes. To reclaim what was his he had to return to his true form and the key lay in the hidden chests of his own mind.

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WC: 479
Total: 874/1,800
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The Real Red Magma
Every step Frieza took seemed to unearth a dormant memory, the events of the past unravelling once again. He could see the transparent forms of himself and another changeling; the tall, well-built Citcra who had tutored him in the art of transformation.

The images sailed without falter through the room, their words struggling to reach Frieza’s ear – each time he’d manage to make out anything spoken it was said with varied tones, volume and random squeals of an unknown source. Perhaps it was the Prince’s untrained mind unable to cope with the ghosts of the past.

Ghosts, as many assume, are not actually spirits of the dead. This is not to say that any undead can walk among the living as many of the fighting fit have learnt of reincarnation and spiritual journeys in the other world. Frieza, at this moment in time, was watching a ‘ghost’; a sequence of events back in time that is left, imprinted in time and space due to large amounts of spiritual and emotional energies. It takes one of high mental ability to depict clearly a ghost. It appeared that Frieza was lacking in that area.

I must warn you, however. This is no easy feat. It requires great levels of concentration. Do not take it lightly, sire.

The words rang in the changeling’s ears, remembering with a deep pain in his chest just how laborious it was to achieve his first transformation.

Moving further into the cavern, Frieza noted to weathered rock and shallow pools that lay around him, creating a precarious path to the location where his meditative training had taken place. The place was untouched, just as the Prince remembered it so. The husk of a small fire lay in decay – yet Frieza could still feel it’s warm embrace as he took up the same position he’d taken 3 years ago.

Looking up, the changeling was greeted with yet another ghost, his chest seizing for a moment out of shock. It was strange. Frieza could perfectly account for Citcra’s every detail and yet could easily see every marking on the cavern side behind him.

Now, Lord Frieza. Transforming is the undergoing of a change in body structure and appearance to suit and contain your power level comfortably. As you grow, so too does your level of power, and your transformation can aid this, allowing you to exceed your current limits and excel in strength. This is, of course, but one step toward your true self.

Frieza nodded at his now-passed instructor, still holding respect for the man.

Your energies are held in a barrier… picture them as such, he continued, the changeling doing as instructed. Now imagine those energies exploding, bursting forward and expanding to great sizes. Push past that barrier!

The changeling tried but struggled, his face gradually beginning to contort out of difficulty.

Fuel that growth with your passion, anger and hatred. What do you want? FUEL YOUR GROWTH! he demanded, the voice near shouting into the Prince’s ear as though he were truly there.

Frieza gasped, eyes opening suddenly to reveal he was alone again, the gruelling winds hounding through the cavern. Had he done it? There was one way to test that…

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WC: 536
Total: 1,410/1,800
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Frieza took a single, liberated step out of Citcra's abode, his three toes burying comfortably in the powdered, white frost.. The changeling scanned the local setting, the silent mountainside, topped with a snow of feint, pale blue and white. It brought an unusual smile to his face.

I guess it's time I tested my engines once again...

When the time comes, you need to take this power you have stored and push it out, spreading it throughout your body.

The words echoed through the mountain range, or perhaps it was just in Frieza's own mind. Still, he took on the instruction, nodding his silent thanks toward the now dilapidated home. With a single push of ki, the Prince was flying through the air, a new well of energy waiting inside to explode. He was filled with an excitement he'd not felt in so long. In fact, he couldn't help but erupt into fits of joyous laughter.

"Oh yes," he roared, "this feeling is fantastic! Absolutely fabulous!!" Frieza cried to the heavens, despite not having actually transformed just yet. He knew he was capable of such a feat now. Of course, as the changeling preferred, he'd save the actual metamorphasis for a special occasion.

The clouds continued to fleet past as the overjoyed Prince increased his speed, heading toward his new palace. An outcrop of rock and ice appeared, peeking above the widening horizon. It was less than a few minutes before he'd touched down, delicately landing on the 'designated zone' - (yes, even Frieza had to land on his own designated zone. He was a man of order, of course!)

Crimson, beady eyes glaring up at the construct in marvel, the changeling beamed in excitement. He certainly needed to commit an evil deed or two to cleanse his body of this 'happy state'. It wasn't good for his reputation.

"Come on, boys!" he called over at the tens of workers whom hurried along, "what do I pay you for?!"

It then crossed his mind that Frieza had only but obtained ONE transformation and yet was capable of more before. He knew that it was fruitless to try and ascend further, bringing it upon himself to try for the next level, all the while searching for a little more hired help in the city. With that, he headed off, the cyan blue star shining gloriously over His Highness.

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WC: 397
Total: 1,807/1,800
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