“Okay then. Who starts?” I look around for a volunteer.
Dessa tentatively raises her hand.
“Alright. What’s your name?” I ask.
“My name is Pearl Scott,” she responds softly.
“How old are you, Pearl?”
“Eleven years old.”
“Will you show us what you look like?”
She nods and morphs into a small blonde-haired girl. She has a soft nose, soft blue eyes, a pink blush to her cheeks and a delicate frame and fragile air about her. She wears a flowery dress, white ballet flats and a little gold necklace. Impressive, Dessa.
“Okay, thank you Pearl. Alexis, you’re next.”
“I’m Chris Scott. I am sixteen years old and Pearl’s older brother,” he replies in a confident voice.
“Show yourself, please.”
Alexis transforms into a tall, built-up guy with dark brown hair and the same light blue eyes as Dessa had morphed. His complexion is a tanner version of Pearl’s and he wears a dark blue, V-neck, long-sleeved shirt and light brown cargo trousers.
“Thank you. Scar?”
“I am Alicia Evans,” she replies seriously and clearly, as if in the military.
“Age?”
“Fifteen.”
“Show yourself.”
She nods curtly and her appearance changes. She wears a white tube top, grey blazer, and dark grey slacks. She has a silver watch on her wrist, silver studs in her ears and a silver chain around her neck. From scarlet to dark mahogany hair, her striking red-blue eyes turn to a dulled light brown.
“Oh Scar…”
Her eyes show sadness and fury. And quickly, they are gone, leaving a steely look in her eyes.
“I am Alicia now, Akane.”
“Of course. Nalin?”
“Who’s Nalin? I’m Will,” Nalin responds sharply, chewing some gum.
“How old are you, Will?”
“Seventeen.”
“What do you look like?”
Nalin pops a bubble and his attire changes completely. From a dress shirt to a skull top and biker jacket. One thoroughly pierced ear. Heavy eyeliner. His neat blue jeans are gone, in their place ripped skinny jeans. Scuffed biker boots replace office shoes. The short brown hair is now thick, black and shaggy. His warm, brown-coloured skin is now a cold almost-white shade.
“Nalin… This must be agony.”
“I told you, I’m Will!” he snaps.
“Of course. Celeste?”
“Hi there, I’m Elizabeth Miller! But you can call me Lizzi.”
“Hello Lizzi,” I smile – her Polish accent still lingers.
“How old are you?”
“Nine.”
“Can you show us what you look like?”
“Sure!”
She stands and gives a little spin, shrinking down to 4 feet. A light blue, knee-length, satin dress covers her now with ribbons and a corsage. A blue corsaged Alice-band rests on her head. Black knee socks lined with blue ribbons and cute little black patent leather shoes dress her legs and feet. Her long, pale blonde hair shortens to shoulder-length and turned a rich, gold-blonde.
