Code: Lolite free porn video

I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Aqua, Yen Sid or any of its related copyrights. These are the property of the Walt Disney Company, Disney Interactive Studios, Square Enix, Tetsuya Nomura and their respective affiliates. Code: Lolite It had been a long and hot day; the once clear and bright sky now beginning to dull, the lingering humidity at last beginning to soften. Though still fairly bright, the first hints of dusk were gathering and would soon mark the end of another day. As with most places in Florida, this was also true of Orlando, and one of the more leafy suburbs in its Orange county. A sleek, expensive model of car slowed as it passed into one of the streets, then turned into a vacant driveway. From its driving seat a smartly suited man of good build and height emerged. Reaching back for his bag and a few files left on the passenger seat, he gave one last look to the sky before going on to the door of his condo. Fumbling with his keys, the door soon opened and he entered briskly. The man himself was wealthy, successful and educated. A marketing executive at the Orlando division of the Walt Disney company, particularly of its gaming concern, Disney Interactive Studios. He would, arguably, have many reasons to be somewhat satisfied with his position in that corporate world, but today was very much an exception. Vincent Dell was not a happy man. Inside his home, he dropped his belongings on his living room table and rubbed his temple; feeling the onset of a headache, as much to do with his rather difficult week as it was the hot weather. Groaning, he undid his tie and went looking for some pain killers. He was at least happy that it was Friday, with a little time to relax and cool off. Still, even with that positive, it would do little to lighten his rather dim mood. The passing hours brought dusk, then cool night over the suburb. Vincent passing into his Friday routine as his frustration eased a bit. A long shower and dinner found him a little better, though a long way from anything like his usual mood come the weekend. Dressing casually in shirt, khaki pants and keds, worn sockless, he had little appetite for night life and chose a lazy evening in. Sorting through his bag, and the various files, he had a chance to put the past week and particularly this Friday into perspective. The reasons for his resentment and frustrated anger seeming all the more valid. Vincent was industrious and ambitious; having been something of a rising star in Disney until about two years ago. His career seeming to slow as he was sent to the marketing division of DIS Orlando. It was a fact that he had worked hard and had done very well; unfortunately, he had not been selected for further advancement, something that had bred a certain resentment in his increasingly entitled sensibilities. That was until this week, and Friday, in particular. At a meeting, many things had been discussed, and particularly a opening seat in the strategy division; of which Vincent was considered a very strong candidate. But, at the seeming hour of his promotion, he was denied again. Director Erasmus giving him responsibility for marketing a new gaming project instead, while the seat at strategy would remain vacant. This decision was accepted politely and professionally by the younger executive, while restraining a flourish of anger and frustration at the disappointing decision of his superior. With a groan, he closed his files; dumping them by his computer while he padded off to watch the news. {===================} Hours passed, and his mood had only lifted a little; his fairly subdued evening interrupted by the soft hum of his printer as a few files were printed; the images coming as expected from a colleague of his. {===================} Later, as he spoke on his phone, it could be said that his mood had grown even stormier; certain not helped by his second Budweiser, and probably not by the third he had just opened. Talking over the past week to a fellow executive, his frustrations were quite bare. "...I mean, c'mon. You were there. You were there at that meeting, Karl. That seat over at strategy was practically promised to me! And then Erasmus gives me this to do. After all the rabbits I pulled out of the hat for them, he gives me supposedly one last hoop to jump through!..." The voice at the other end was more subdued and even tempered. "Yeah, yeah-I know, really I do. I know how that feels. But, look on the bright side. It's one more chance to really shine before getting that position at strategy; another feather in your cap, so to speak." Vincent sighed, fishing the bottle from the fridge before popping the cap; taking a long drink before continuing. "Hmph... well, that's one way of looking at it. Still, I'm not happy about it. The geezer's playing with me, I think." "No, no... he's not. Really - Erasmus is always like that. Pulling things out of the blue, surprising people...but not like that. At least, I hope. Still, this project was a big catch for us. I mean getting to market a big name franchise is not something to be sniffed at, even if it's not quite what you were wanting. And our credentials do get a further polish if we can carry this off right; with Disney and Square- Enix. Vincent gave a low chuckle. "Yes, I know. Still... it's not exactly what you would readily think of before joining the high rankers. Marketing a new game, which is part of a series which will ultimately become the reserve of what? - fan boys, loosers and greasy otakus on both sides of the pacific. Call me picky, but this is not exactly my finest job to do." He took another deep swallow from the bottle as his friend groaned on the other end of the line. "Ah... well... listen, the Kingdom Hearts series is big business, a big franchise - but it does dip now and again. Which is why we need to pull this one off right with the higher ups and Square-Enix. Also... the fans are the ones that keep a franchise going, when fads fade, but it's important to build on that and get others interested. I know this isn't exactly what you saw yourself doing, even in this situation, but it really is a chance to shine." His words falling on half listening ears, Vincent leaned against the work top; his eyes narrowing with a sigh. "Yes...yes - I got you. And I'll do what I can...and really make this shine. Be it weeaboo crap or not." His friend taking a little encouragement from his sloppy words, Karl went on. "Well...that's an improvement. And it might prove interesting too. Also, did you get the scans of the Aqua character's design? I sent them just after dinner..." Vincent rolled his eyes. Putting the bottle down, he left the kitchen and craned his neck; peering into his small study. Finding a few sheets in the printer tray, he spread them across the desk. Casting a lazy eye over them, he went on. "Uh, yeah. I got them. All three. This the new look? She doesn't look that different from the previous stuff I've seen." "Oh, well - yes, that's a good point. Not so much a redesign, but a few polishes here and there. Square-Enix insisted this for her, and this look will be the one appearing in the marketing materials. It's already been used for a article in Japan, with good feedback." Vincent ran his gaze over the images and nodded. "Hmm... well, if that's what they want, that's what I'll roll with. I'll get the first ideas to you by Tuesday and we can discuss it then." "Ah, alright. Thanks. That sounds good on my end and hopefully we can make this a success. I'll contact the hardware people and get things started with them. The media division is circulating a few small articles for us also. So, I'll see you Tuesday." "Yeah, that sounds good. I hope things go smoothly. See you next week." The call ending, Vincent let loose a deep groan; rubbing his eyes before looking at the spread on his desk. Giving the images a last indifferent look, he lazily slid them into corner. He would work on them later, but he wasn't going to give anymore of tonight to this. He had weeks and weeks of that to come. Turning, he went back to his beer and then sat down to watch a movie; the room darkened as he tried to get comfortable after a long and difficult week. {===================} The night was cool and serene. Above, the moon was radiant; its aura marred only a little by a few lingering clouds which sailed lazily about. Below, it was much the same. The neighbourhood still, and the household of Mr. Dell much the same. Still, this fairly ordinary scene was not quite as it seemed. In the darkness of his office, beside his computer, the lazily shuffled sheets of hours passed still sat. Nothing recommended to anything special, until slowly a strange aura seemed to rise about the papers. A rich blue with lingered for several moments; the dull light playing on the dead face of the monitor and the nearby wall, until it dulled then subsided. The sheets once again ordinary pieces of paper with images printed on them. {===================} The hours eased by and nothing remarkable was found. But, a most subtle change was happening. Something quite extraordinary emerged into the world of Vincent's home. Stalking through the corridors until it found the living room. Sweeping in with confident steps until it stood before the slouched presence of the man himself. The young executive having fallen asleep, with a half empty bottle of beer on a small table nearby. The entity loomed over the man for a time, just peering at him. It was then that, as if prodded by some unseen force, the Vincent awoke. It was a few moments until his senses had suitably cleared when fear struck. First, the man found himself held fast. Unable to move much of his body, save for shifting and shaking. His eyes wide, he could only gasp as his vision fell on the entity not far from him. Standing tall in the twilight cast by the TV, and all the more ominous for it, a odd spectre returned his frightened gaze with cold scrutiny. Terrified, he was not beyond thought and it occurred to the executive that the impossible was standing close to him. A figure he recalled from Disney, and one of most high repute. The robes long and blue, the beard grey and the hat high, with a motif of stars. But, it was the eyes which held him. Large and severe in silent distain. The great wizard of the Disney world. Yen Sid. {===================} It seemed that the tall, old wizard would just stare at him forever until the silence was broken as his eyes looked downward. Looking back up, the old man spoke; his voice rich and sober, with much power. "Fear not. I have not come to do any harm to you tonight, Mr. Vincent Dell. But, I have come here for a reason." Drawing himself up, the wizard looked at the paralysed businessman coolly. "I could speak greatly of my concerns about the kingdom. The cynical path it now walks, its numerous trespasses against those whose cause it should have emboldened. But, for tonight, I will satisfy myself with speaking to you." Narrowing his eyes, the wizard continued as the young man struggled before finally giving up. "I would know that you are quite industrious and ambitious. A boon to some, whose success has been applauded by those of high station. But, still, I see that you have quite a severe opinion of those who are particular and dedicated, no matter how much they support that which you too are now meant to work on. I take a very dim view of that." The wizard sighed. "I could open you to how much you may have misjudged others with your opinions, as others have tried to do so in the past, but I know that something more is called for. Something that will get to the point, with power and energy, as you so appreciate. I do not wish to linger long here, thus I too will get to the point." The executive could only make a chocking rasp as the wizard raised his arms. One arm lower than its neighbour, he peered down with a keen but cold expression. Reaching into the pendulous cuff of one sleeve, Vincent watched dumbfounded as the apparition slowly withdrew something from the shadowy recesses. At last fully free, Yen Sid raised the object with some reverence, as if in ceremony. For a time, the man a bit away from him had no idea what it was until a memory popped and he recalled. A fairly long, elaborate and stylised instrument fashioned in the likeness of a key. A keyblade?... It was a little difficult to make out in the shadows, but the weapon had a distinct design and seemed to be mostly blue, with a elaborate silver hilt and a angular, jutting tip. The look was vaguely familiar... had he seen it before. More importantly, what the hell was this thing going to do with it? He had to be dreaming... The wizard drawing his gaze across the weapon with some regard, those eyes grew cold again as they turned to the captive audience before him. Lowering it to his side, the old man continued. "It is my hope that you will gain an appreciation for the particular...if you approach things from a new perspective. One more suitable to sense and feel and recognise the richness of that which you so brush aside, with the hand of corporate ambition..." Vincent felt his heart thundering. The wizard was silent, then began. "Now..." With a swift move of his arm, he thrust the weapon towards the man, still paralysed in his seat. Suddenly, an eruption of blue light came from the tip and arcs of energy impacted on him. Vincent's world seeming to dissolve into a shaking, shivering, crying mess of terror and delirium... {===================} With a chocked scream, he awoke. Scrambling and grasping, he finally turned wide eyes about the room; his heart thudding horribly as his breath came sharp. After a moments silence, he grew still. Sweat seeping down his brow, his shoulders dropped and he rubbed his face. The room was empty. No Yen Sid. No magic. No keyblade. He gave a shuddering sigh. A nightmare. Just a stupid nightmare. Sitting back, he swore under his breath and coughed. Looking about, the room was rather as it should be. The shadowy contours familiar, still and inanimate. The light from the TV causing a few shadows to jump and prance, he recalled he had muted the sound as he had begun to doze. Some game show playing with a splutter of colour and contrived gaiety. Looking down, he found that his beer had fallen. A small pool having gathered where the bottle had met the hardwood floor; the amber liquid still having a few bubbles within. He groaned, slowly getting up. He tried to put the still very recent dream out of his mind...especially the looming presence of that weird character and the stupid keyblade thing. Really, had better things to dream about than that stuff invading his sleep... {===================} Grudgingly wiping up the spilt beer, he tried to shake off the lingering chill of the bad dream. Dismissing the fears and pains of the bizarre vision, he sighed and rubbed his face. Padding to the bathroom, he relieved himself then splashed much water on his face. Eyeing his reflection in the mirror before sinking it into a waiting towel. Swearing under his breath, he took a deep breath before thinking what to do. It was not that late yet - maybe he could order a pizza and watch a movie before letting the night slip over him. It was not long before he found the number for his usual place; the nasally voice taking his order telling him that they might be a bit slower due to a busy night. Still, he did not linger on it and went to order a movie. Popping open a small bag of potato chips as a starter, he idly padded back to the living room as he chewed. Looking for the control, he wavered a bit; a sudden dizzy spell coming as he grew weak and his stomach lurched loudly; the pain making him grasp his stomach as he steadied against a wall. It passed quickly, leaving him perplexed but seemingly well. Taking a breath, he went on and soon found the remote; skimming through the channels whimsically. It did not brighten his mood when the pain inside returned and he gave a shudder; the sensations longer and deeper this time before passing. Swearing, he hoped that he was not coming down with something tonight; that would be a suitably bad end to a stupid week, all together. Shaking his head, he found a movie that he liked and ordered it. It had not been a few moments when satisfaction turned to frustration as the symptoms returned, but this time fear was not far away. As the pains and sensations came, his fingers twitched and flexed; leaving him to watch silently as his nails grew a little then were swallowed slowly by a rich blue nail polish. Breathing heavily, the remote clattered to the floor as did the foil bag. Raising the hand up, it was as he had seen. His nails now a little longer, by about a quarter inch, and sporting a rich blue coat. Lifting his other hand from his stomach, he found a mirror of the change too; his nails longer and disturbingly blue. Thinking he was still dreaming or hallucinating now, he tried to compose himself. But ultimately in vain; the rigours returning now as he clutched his stomach and staggered as weakness overcame him. A deep ache grew in his back and his throat burned; his breath growing laboured as his heart danced. Uttering a rasp of confused fear he struggled onward, the symptoms of whatever episode or disease gripping tighter. The tremors and gurgling within growing harsher and stronger, he gave a vexed whine as his member grew warm and painfully hard; the length swelling up against his pants, as if it wished to escape. His scrotum tender and his balls sore, he struggled to remain standing as a sweat collected on his brow. Resisting the pull to lie down, he fought weakly; final resistance...and perhaps his sane world, crashing with what came next... {===================} The hot, turgid squelching and jostling within his stomach grew and, with a chocked rasp, a strange pressure grew inside; reaching down into his genitals. Growing in power, he simply bore terrified witness as the sensations climaxed. The feeling of his testicles being dragged up inside while his scrotum deflated and shrivels. His remaining badge of manhood grew even more pained; the fabric of his underwear and pants stinging, suffocating before the length grew limp. Suddenly soft, his eyes grew wide as he felt it diminish. That same terrible tugging pressure withering his manhood until, incredibly and horribly, it was gone; drawn up inside the jostling, pulsing world of his stomach. Feeling what was once there fade inside himself, he collapsed to the floor in terror. A harsh whine escaping, he fell on his side. Still racked by convulsions and rigors, the world drew distant and dim. The horror of his lost manhood still lingering, the ache in his back grew and his shoulders hurt terribly. His bones jarring, once firm and gym honed muscles spasmed; flexing and aching as they softened and shrunk. The sensation first in his arms, then chest, abdomen and legs, his skin itched fiercely as hair withdrew ,sun kissed skin softened and begun to fade. Limply flailing and rasping on the floor, a sudden thought speared his dimming mind; a memory of watching the old horror classic, American Werewolf in London...with David Naughton panicking impotently as his body swelled and morphed into a wolfish shape. Amid the pain and shock, he wished he had not recalled that... Shifting, he could do nothing as the ache in his hips grew and he felt the fabric of his pants tighten. His manly, straight shape swelling and stretching outward. His stomach, the places within still writhing and grossly pulsing, started to draw in; his muscles diminishing as his waist constricted and began to inch inward. The feeling of being caught in a squeezing, alien force bad enough, his attention was pulled to another change, as his once firm rear began to stretch and swell; feeling the shapes fill and bloat bigger and bigger into a bizarre plumpness as they drew the seat of his pants ever tighter. There was little he could do; his buckling shoulders testament to that as he tried to turn over. Catching sight of his shrinking hands, his feet followed with a groan; feeling the large shapes shrink as toes twitched and arches rose. Once favoured keds in concert as they seemed to grow bigger; toes pulling away from the ends as feet were dragged down the insoles, the feeling singularly bizarre. His itching, pained nipples gave some testament to what was truly happening as those usually dull nubs grew sensitive, areolas stretching. A swelling atop his shrinking ribs marked something extraordinary; the masses rising higher and fatter, further and further until those now erect nipples could tent his now loose shirt. He did not want to look, he really did not; he did not want to feel, or know...but the revelation that came back again and again as those shapes rose larger and bigger under the fabric, was clear. A whine was his response; some swearing cut off as his voice broke. Changes wreaking havoc inside his throat as his Adam's apple shrunk away. The voice that emerged, coughing and rasping, grew ever higher and sharper as his features twisted in grimace. He was given little respite as those sensations of change seeped into his face. Bone and muscle rising and shifting as they were made anew; diminishing, aching ears were filled with the sharp, wet sounds of this metamorphosis. Cheeks rising, jaw thinning as a strong forehead softened, his familiar nose shrunk down. Struck by terror, and the sheer impotence of what was happening to him, his closed his pained eyes. Lips pulsing with growth as they became thicker, the features any onlooker found would be a shocking picture of transition from the hard and broad, to the soft and slender. The tickle and faint burning of his itching scalp was followed with a new weight upon his head and a growing soft mass spilling down the sides and into his shifting face. Equally shocked by this change, a fantastic thought came that he might be shrinking as his once fitting clothes seemed...felt so much bigger came. Though unable to court this as his body shuddered, pulsed then finally spasmed. Suddenly the pains faded and powerful lethargy came. Any active thought that remained inside his battered mind faded as he flopped down and sunk into unconsciousness. Lying on the floor of his living room, no one had heard the sudden, freakish episode of pain and fear. The diminished shape of Vincent lying still, only the soft sound of breath heard... {===================} Time passed and, slowly, the figure on the floor awoke, as if from a long dream. At first stiff and sore, these passed as eyes roamed the familiar room. Finding the world unchanged, they were perplexed - something had happened, the memories of some horrendous episode or fit returning, but they could not place what had changed so much. Their clothes felt strange and rougher, also bigger...the room was as before, but seemed larger too... What had happened? Getting up, a flurry of new sensations arrived. Oversized pants drooping on his new figure, the shirt was a limp mass which swallowed smaller hands. And of course the twin swellings under the fabric, with the strange emptiness in their crotch called for immediate attention. Giving another slight cough, the voice higher, they made away. The clothes so much larger now, the keds looked absurd below; sticking out from under the pooling cuffs like great clown shoes, while they flopped about shrunken feet. A lock of hair passing over new eyes, he dully swatted it away as another step left a oversized shoe behind. A shrunken foot vanishing under the cuff, the floor felt oddly chilly...or rather he was newly sensitive. Kicking the other off awkwardly, the figure swiftly made way to the study; the cuffs flapping about his feet as a splayed collar jumped about small, slender shoulders. Darting into the waiting room, the light snapped on and they dashed to the desk; where a lone, long mirror had sat on the opposing wall from years past. Turning, the figure froze. Suddenly sharply aware, yet dull to all things beyond the shape in the mirror. It had to be a dream, a hallucination - maybe a schizophrenic episode, or food poisoning or... They stepped forward. Raising slender hands to the glass, they found a array of rich, blue nails before they touched the glass. The glass was real, the hands were real and, to much abhorrence, she was real to... Stepping back as lips trembled, hands still raised, eyes grew even wider as they realised the utter truth of the reflection. Standing in the drooping and ill fitting clothes of Vincent Dell, was a girl. Smaller and slender, she was not voluptuous but still gifted with a rich figure which rose up against the loose fabrics. Deep blue eyes were caught against a clear, fair complexion. But, it was the rich crest of blue and jagged locks fell about her face, which seemed so peculiar. Hands which roamed these azure locks were lowered as disbelieving eyes peered again at the blue nails. In a fit of need, she bent forward and pulled at the pant cuffs. Raising those heavy veils, they were suddenly dropped back with a flinch of fright; eyes finding slender ankles, small pale feet and ten blue veiled toe nails. Breathing heavily now, fingers fluttered about her throat at the sound, as she began to shake. Vincent Dell had been changed into a girl... the very girl in the mirror... it was not possible, yet it was so. With a cry, she tore at her pants; the waist so large and loose that the belt and zipper were virtually redundant. Plunging a fearful hand into the warm shadows, she slipped a searching palm beneath the gaping waist of once fitting boxer shorts... The broad valley of her hips directed her fingers into a incline which ended between thick thighs and a... The sensations, accidentally stirred by clumsy touch made her whimper and rasp. Whining, she pulled a hand from the wide mouth of her pant's waist and fumbled with her shirt. Pulling at the collar, now wide on her smaller frame, she tossed her arms to get her hands free of the ever slipping cuffs. At last free to grasp, she pulled the splayed collar up and away. The sight probably inevitable, but still terrifying, as two generous, pert breasts stood on a smaller chest; pale, high and loud voices of femininity on a so recently very male form. Her face a vision of icy fright, her hands drew away almost mechanically before she peered into the mirror again. The sight of a very pretty blue haired girl in her late teens, dressed in the very oversized and clownish fashions of a much larger man, staring back; befuddled and very frightened. Raising one shaking hand to her face, the fingers slid over the smooth contours and rich lips... The world was growing distant again; her legs feeling weak as her heart gained in her ears. She said something, but could not hear it. She said it again...and again...and again, louder and louder in weak desperation. Stumbling back, she struck a shoulder on nearby bookshelves; knocking several files to the ground as she stepped back. Finally, slumping against a wall, she slid down. Her large, pert new rump cushioning her descent, she sunk her face into raised palms as the room swam; the girl trying not to faint as her toned stomach heaved and she gagged hoarsely. Nothing came, and for a while she remained there; head slumped against the wall and eyes shut as the mind bending incredulity of this swallowed her... {===================} Time had little meaning for the figure; dishevelled and disorientated next to the wall. It took a great effort for her to rise weakly, leaning against the wall for a moment before padding dully towards the desk; slumping down in the chair. Shoulders sunken and head bowed, the former man tried to compose what was left of sanity in order to think; leaning a slender elbow onto the desk with a palm to their temple. Taking a few deep breaths helped a little; even if it did remind her of the two sensitive lumps on her chest. Peering around the room, she bitterly cast a azure lock from her eyes before going back to quietly panicking. Finding her smooth throat suddenly dry, she would have desired a hard drink about now; but settled on some bottled water which was kept in a drawer. Downing the whole bottle quickly, she regarded the smooth hand with its rich blue nails coldly. Then, a crisp realisation happened... Blue hair... Blue eyes... Soft, unblemished skin and blue nails... Those same eyes drew wide in fright; the girl gasping as she scrambled forward; grabbing at the far side of the desk and the print outs left there. Pulling them back, she stared at the figure realised on the paper. Her features all too familiar, her colours more so...it was her...no...he was her...she was her... Aqua... She cried out; swearing feverishly, a stream of jumbled obscenity until the very sound of her new voice brought a hand across her lips in near equal shock... But more so, the dream was not a dream. Yen Sid... was it really him?... had he been here?... that was why he was so changed... Lowering the pages with a glazed expression, he was caught for a moment in disbelief. Looking down dully, she found her own image there on the paper. Albeit dressed in the more exotic tones and fashions, wielding one of those keyblade things...the very image of the one that had done this to him...her... Hand shaking, she brushed the papers away with distain. She had to remain calm...he...he, Vincent Dell had to remain calm. He was not losing his mind...he had to focus...he hand to think, or he could lose everything... Closing blue eyes, she sorted through the events of the night; thoughts streaming until a distant metallic buzz made her flinch; clutching the desk firmly as her eyes shot around wildly. The door... why the door?... wait - the pizza... Suddenly recalling that order, she tried to think what to do. She could leave it, but the place he usually ordered from was quite firm with unanswered deliveries...and that could lead to trouble if they came sniffing...or worse... She swore. Again the buzzing came. Knowing that she had to get this over as quickly as possible, she pushed her slouching pants off and stepped out of them; thumping down the corridor in haze, she drew some cold courage before opening the door... {===================} The delivery boy had better things to do on a Friday night, but needed the extra cash. Looking more ahead to later tonight, he kept his frustration and boredom in check as he pressed the buzzer again. Thinking that the delivery was a no show or a prank, he started to turn away; it was then that the door creaked open, the young man turning with a sigh to offer the pizza. He stopped, when the figure at the door emerged fully. The sight stilled his thoughts, and perked a few others. There was a beautiful girl standing there. Her slender, good figure swamped in a man's shirt; the pendulous hem drooping about the bottom of her thighs. The colours and shapes of very ill fitting men's boxing shorts seen within... with the hint of a few other things too. Her eyes and all her nails were a rich blue, as was her hair in its long crest. The shirt collar sprawling hugely across her small shoulders, her neck rose to a lovely face...that seemed distant; staring at the boy silently, as if in incomprehension. For a moment the boy stared back. "Uh... huh... yeah... I got a delivery for Dell." Her eyes narrowed, her lips voicing hesitant, dull words. "Huh...w-what?.." "An order for Dell. A 12 inch pepperoni for 20 Peel Turn Avenue." "Oh... right... sorry...y-yeah, that's me." "Ah, good, that'll be $10 please." With a dull look, the girl turned inside for a moment and fidgeted with something. Taking the box and giving the boy his money, it took a moment before he realised that the girl had given him a $20 bill. Turning, he found the door had shut quickly. Standing on the porch mystified for a long moment, he eventually turned and left. Lingering on that beautiful but weird girl. If he had gotten the chance, maybe he might have asked her out... Still, she looked really familiar from somewhere, with that vivid look...maybe there was a cosplay convention in town. Lingering on the girl, he drove off none the wiser into the suburban night. {===================} Discarding the pizza to the kitchen counter, the new Aqua padded to the living room and collapsed into her seat; the once familiar contours now much larger as they rose around her. Letting her head fall back she closed her eyes and waited for her heart to stop rumbling. Taking in her situation again, she quietly considered where she was now. The seeming dream and following madness a reality. Sighing, she rubbed her new features and suddenly felt so very tired; exhausted even. Turning off the TV, she dropped the remote and trod over to the couch. Lying down, she felt a lethargy sweep over her. Her blue framed features sunk into a cushion, she closed her eyes and let sleep come. It was something she wanted much; the girl that Vincent had become - to slide into a deep, dreamless sleep and hope for a better morning. {===================} Morning came, and a weary young woman emerged back into the world. Unfortunately, what had transpired had still left its mark. Feeling her fear deflate into a dull, cynical loathing, she considered what she could do...at least for now. She was hungry. Very, very hungry. Maybe it was the change, the stress or something else but she was very hungry this morning. Not entertaining cold pizza, she still desired a rich meal. It was a simple thing, but at least she might feel better... more sane, after it. In her bedroom, she doffed the shirt and went to the bathroom. Relieving herself at once a shock, but pinching necessity as the stream hit the bowl. Back in the bedroom, dressing was its own trial. So much was so much bigger, and almost useless to her now. After much trial and error, she settled on some track suit pants and a t-shirt. Gathering a smaller shirt about her, she rolled up the cuffs and drew the pants drawstring tight; the waist drawing astonishingly small before it sat well on her hips. Her shoes now cavernous and clownish on her feet, she settled for a old pair of shower sandals; eyes narrowing with a frustrated groan as she found the brand "Aqua" stamped on the heels in a dull blue. Too large for her feet at first, folding the Velcro flaps tightly gave her some useable footwear, if rather clumsy as the overlong heels flopped behind her. Regarding herself in the mirror, the image was both odd and interesting; passable but lazy. Her black clothes and sandals caught against her fair skin and blue otherwise. Giving her unfamiliar hair a brush, she rubbed her face and then pocketed her wallet. Picking up her phone, she found something dangling from the end. Lifting it up, she raised an eye in vexation. There, hanging, was a new key chain...a cheap silver chain with a familiar, micro version of a certain keyblade. She sighed, swearing under her breath. Yes. Wasn't it said somewhere that Yen Sid had a certain sense of humour... {===================} Emerging into the world, she drew breath from the clear morning and made her way; trying to ignore the host of new sensations and lingering fears, she had to change her walk too. A young teen who passed her, some neighbour's son, found his eyes linger on the pretty girl as she passed; Vincent in turn trying to block the thought from his mind. She was headed for a local McDonald's. She would breakfast there. Then think, long and hard about what had happened. This was a problem, but it had always been a policy of his to have a good breakfast before anything. After all, you could not face magical forces on a empty stomach, now could you... Fin.