Time for something fun!

[untilavalon]

Need a little pick me up? Or just feel like playing something really stupid? It's time for a meme.

The Magical Swap Meme
or the 'oops, you done fucked up' meme

courtesy of Luc*

Directions

1. Post your character with the name/canon in the subject meme. In your comment, put your preferences such as, "I don't want to do prompt #1" or "for the gender swap prompt, [character] will look like [this]" or "for the age swap prompt, my character will be 5 years younger".


2. Tag each other and have fun.

Prompts

• Body Swap: Holy shit. You're looking at yourself like you're looking in a mirror. The only problem is, when you're looking down at your own hands... you're in someone else's body.


• Gender Swap: Well, this is new; you're now no longer in the right body, but it's still yours. Were you always a girl? You sure weren't yesterday. Of course, this is probably another one of the city's tricks; no point in getting all up in arms about it, is there?


• Age Swap: Are you starting to see a pattern here? Now you're younger-- or older-- than you were a little while ago. Who're you going to bug about your height now?


• Canon Swap: Your entire history is different now. Suddenly, you're a homestuck. Or maybe you're an elf. Or perhaps you're not even switching canons with the person you're threading with. What's the damage?


• Power Swap:...Like the one above, but with powers instead of canons.


• Moral Alignment Swap: Suddenly, you're evil as hell. Or maybe you're really good now. Or maybe your moral alignment is "eh /non-commital wiggly hand gesture". I don't make the rules here, bucko.


• Luc, you didn't include this swap I wanted to do!: Well look at you, you have a bigger imagination than I do. What are you waiting for? Swap it. Just swap it. Do it, before it's too late.
  

You now have four minutes to save the world.**

*If it's a bad meme, it wasn't my idea.
**You do not have four minutes to save the world. In fact, there's really no point in worrying about world saving right now.

Comments

Damian Wayne | DC Comics

[earlybird]

[There's always a point to worrying about world saving, Luc.]

[Any swap is great!! I am stupidly in love with stupid meme ideas so for gender swap, and for age-up swap just. I am. Trash. Okay. I'm sorry.]

age-swap?

[chavalry]

[If Mordred was tiny before, now she's downright minuscule, considering she's half her usual size. As she was in the middle of sparring, she ends up unable to balance herself and faceplants. When she gets up, she can only stare dumbly at her sparring partner.]

Damian? You are rather...big.

[She sounds much calmer than usual.]

bless tiny mordred.

[earlybird]

[ His clothes are trying to strangle him, sweatpants suddenly pinching his hips and bunched up to his knees, the fabric of his tank top stretched tight across his torso, hitched up above his midriff in some bizarrely uncomfortable version of something that Grayson probably wore 'back in the day.'

The sudden change in height, and the too-tight sparring sweats, successfully bring him to the mats with a dull thud and a grunt of irritation. ]

Another day, another trial.

[ His voice is as haughty and snide as always, but tempered much, much lower. He struggles to sit up, frowning across the mats at her as he leans back on his elbows with a critical stare. ]

And you are small.

Re: bless tiny mordred.

[chavalry]

That I am. It is slightly inconvenient.

[She acknowledges it without sounding irritated.]

It seems...some change has come over us. Have you any idea what may have caused it.

[earlybird]

[ His eyebrows raise. She is so proper. Ever practical, he fixes the sweatpants issue, somewhat, loosening the tie cutting into his hips and snapping the elastic on the cuffs. The tank is abandoned altogether. He does spend a moment to admire the sudden breadth of his own hands, flexing his fingers - stronger. ]

It's Ruby City. It could have been the weather, or maybe it was just the phase of the moon, or perhaps the wardens simply got bored.

[ He doesn't sound upset though. Instead, the longer he inspects his new, older body, the more excited he gets, rolling to his feet to check out the sudden upgrade in height he's gained. ]

I think I'm taller than Grayson.

[ Delighted. His shoulders are broad, even the most recent scars on his torso looking long-since faded. ]

[chavalry]

That is true.

[She looks over toward his abandoned tank top, and then back at her own loose tube top, which is ready to have a wardrobe malfunction any second. She quickly scrambles over to that tank top, one hand holding on to her top and the other other her pants. She makes a face at the stench of sweat that clings to the piece of clothing, but still slips it on. It also looks rather big on her, but at least it doesn't threaten to fall off and leave her topless.]

...Are you? Sir Grayson is rather tall.

[She looks up at Damian and scrutinizes him.]

I think you might be broader than him, though.

[earlybird]

[ He is. He totally is - taller, and broader. (In the shoulders, at least - he tapers down quickly. Grayson's got a stronger core.) ]

You've gotten a lot more polite.

[ Damian sure hasn't. He stares down at the tinier Servant, now sporting his stolen tank top. ]

I would have expected you to be mad about this. Madder than usual, anyway.

[chavalry]

It would not become a knight to rant and rave like a village loon.

[As she speaks, she lets out a bit of her usual haughtiness. True, she was feeling a bit jumpy, but she is a knight, and so she should provide a shining example to the rest of the people who might have been affected by this change.]

And you are not angry about this change at all?

[earlybird]

But you rant and rave all the time.

[ Both eyebrows raised. This is almost hilarious. Normally she's so yell-y. ]

And angry? Why would I be angry?

[ He grins, the excitement bleeding through. ]

I'm an adult! I'm stronger, faster, taller. This is great!

[ He hopes it never wears off. ]

MoooOORALITY SWAP

[pocketmobster]

[The thing is, the SHSL Vigilante known worldwide as Kuromaku knows better. He knows better than to prowl the streets without his sidekick--the actual brawn behind their clean-up operation, and Japan's finest young kendo practitioner. He knows better than to wander into what he knows is a trap, even if the information he might obtain is worth the risk.

And really, he definitely knows better than to go after one of the most dangerous criminals this city has to offer him.

But Kuzuryuu has always been a damn fool, and he has to know: Who is this kid, and what can he do to talk him down from the path he himself had once been walking?]

you should have chosen night fury you jerk

[earlybird]

[ Of course it's a trap, but only the boy is waiting for Kuzuryuu. No others.

A scimitar taps idly against his knees from where he perches atop the Cathedral desk, waiting for the vigilante. The building is silent, no activity. But neither blade nor boy are clean, a smear of dried blood marring both faces. His expression is as silent as the meeting ground, carefully blank, although his eyebrows raise slowly, mocking, at the SHSL Vigilante's appearance.

He doesn't bother with a mask. Never has. He is a ghost, might as well not exist in the city, only appearing during personal operations as infiltrator and assassin, bundled into one. Information, goods, people - he always gets his target, and even in Ruby City there's 'needs.' He didn't even have a proper title: they just took to calling him the Demon.

He'd been the one to call Kuromaku out here, tonight. ]

I didn't think you'd show. Where's the sidekick?

No I'm saving that for the Rider Peko and Dragon Kuzu AU of my dreams

[pocketmobster]

[Kuromaku frowns, though largely it's hidden by his own mask. He can't go without; Peko's an unparalleled bodyguard, but she isn't with him 24/7--obviously--and some of the assholes he's put away wouldn't think anything of stringing up a puny high-schooler with no power but dirty money.

True to his namesake, he's dressed head-to-toe in black. No symbols, no family lapel pins, no nothing. Even his eyepatch is solid black. All that's visible of the boy behind the mask is a single golden eye and a band of freckles across his nose.

He wants his wakizashi in his hand, not strapped to his hip, but he knows that wouldn't help him at all against the Demon anyway. He thought about ditching armaments entirely, but that wouldn't impress the kid, either.

He props a fist on his hip and gestures broadly with the other hand.]

Doing my homework, obviously. We got a big history project due tomorrow and I can't be assed about the French Revolution.

[He drops the gesturing hand.]

Thought you wanted me to come alone.

don't fail asher now, bakerstreet

[earlybird]

[ A soft snort - amused. He slips off the desk, giving the scimitar a twirl. ]

'La terreur n'est autre chose que la justice prompte, sévère, inflexible.' [ Quipped, off-handed. ] Robespierre.

[ The scimitar is sheathed, however, and he rubs a palm across the dried blood on his face, flaking it away. ]

But I didn't call you out here to study. Or, even, to fight. You don't have to look so worried, Kuromaku.

In fact, I called you out here to be helpful.

[ Helpful. The young assassin - who has taken out several citizens with brutal, swift execution at the order of his commander, only to disappear into the depths of the city's underbelly, untraceable - wants to be helpful. The smirk on his face, sharp and humorless, says he knows how absurd that sounds.

But the handler he came with isn't here. For all intents and purposes, it looks like this time, he's acting alone. ]

[pocketmobster]

[What a fucking showoff. Kuromaku just makes an unimpressed "che" sound at the quote. Does the brat think he knows French? He should save the smart aleck routine for someone who gives a shit.

(He does know Italian, though--enough to get the gist of the quote. Terror's nothing but hard, fast justice, huh?

Black justice. His eye hurts.)

But he responds to the smirking offer not with skepticism or sarcasm, but cautious interest. He's had enough brushes with the Demon that--while Kuzuryuu knows better than to think he could ever predict his actions--he's sure the kid knows him well enough to understand that, in his own way, Kuromaku trusts him. Trusts the Demon to be what he is, to put his own agenda above all else; trusts him not to care enough about people to fuck with them unless it furthers his own goals.

And he...is kind of concerned about him. Sometimes Kuromaku still feels the underworld gape open at his back, waiting for him to stumble into its arms again. He remembers the smell of Peko's blood on his shirt. And the Demon's so young.

He's sure the kid's figured that much about him, too. Kuromaku lifts his chin slightly.]

Yeah? I'm listening.

[earlybird]

[ Good. Right down to business, then. The professional mask drops back over his face, hard edges and focused intent as he fishes around in one of the cases strapped to the belt at his waist. They're both wearing all-black, although his choice is more out of practicality than of making a statement. A full-sleeved catsuit, a thin flak-jacket for what passes as armor on him, boots and pants. Belt, sword, and probably countless knives hidden on his person. ]

I have information. Information you and your people need.

[ He pulls a flash drive from the canister, holding it up idly as he tucks the metal piece back into its case, leaning back against the desk. ]

About the Overseers.

[ Nobody, nobody, has information on the Overseers. But, somehow, he's gotten his hands on something that he, at least, considers valuable, if not game-changing. Something a whole lot of people would trade anything for. And he's offering it to Kuromaku. ]

Still listening?

[pocketmobster]

...Hell.

[He breathes the word more than says it. For all his skills, he's never even seen one of the Overseers, and the information he and his friends have been able to gather, while varied, doesn't answer nearly as many questions as it creates.

If the Demon's really offering him something he can stand on, maybe they could change things.

If it's what he says it is. It's a trap. Kuromaku still knows that. But sometimes the bait's worth the fall.]

It's the eye that's missing, kid. I still got both my ears.

[One way to find out what the Demon thinks it's worth, at least.]

And you're asking what from me for it?

[earlybird]

Amnesty. Guaranteed immunity from retaliation, and no punishment for any of the crimes committed up until this moment.

[ It's a tall order, and an audacious one. There isn't a jury who would consider anything less than capital punishment for what he's done. And that was just in Ruby City alone. ]

That's what I want. Sanctuary.

For my brother.

[ He doesn't even blink as he lets the information drop, heavy, like a stone, cool stare fixed on Kuzuryuu. Unless there's been someone kept out of sight at all times, the only logical person it could be is his handler - the one who'd ordered it all. Who orchestrated every attack. Who sent the young assassin to do his bidding, knocking down political leaders and crippling the city's stability. ]

Can you grant him that?

i'm trash i wanna do a genderswap too...

[penisenvy]

[The first thing Mordred does with her new change (after the mandatory swearing and freaking out and realizing that being a man makes her feel dumb and heavy and weird) is to pay Damian a visit at the police station. A visit complete with flowers and candy, also featuring her riding in on an exhausted warg.]

...So, check me out now. Don't I look ever bit the knight?

[NOT HERE and all for the greater glory]

[untilavalon]

[Somewhere, Arturia looks up, aware.

It has come to pass.

Mordred has done something comedically stupid enough to be considered the perfect story for arthurian legend. the cycle is complete.]

HELL YE GENDER SWAP.

[earlybird]

[ There's a warg in the Police Station. Damian (Dami, Grayson had crooned at him, before he promptly shot the usage of any name but his full, complete name down with a fist of righteous correction) , caught leaning back in chair, stares at the overgrown wolf, then shifts his stare up to its rider.

He doesn't look too much different. A little narrower in the shoulders of his t-shirt, a softer jawline, longer bangs still spiking up from beneath a knit cap. Combined, however, he looks even more like Talia than he already had. ]

...What are you doing?

[ Voice higher pitched, though it's obvious he's trying to drag it down to his normal tones; hard, though, given that he, naturally, speaks pretty loudly. ]

[penisenvy]

[A bit of her bluster fades away as she gets confused about Damian's new voice.]

I am showing you how a knight would conduct a tryst.

...And is it me, or has your voice become...squeaky?

[earlybird]

[ His eyebrows raise, skeptical. ]

More importantly: why? There's no one here for you to woo, Red.

[ Behold, the Station: it is barren. The legs of the chair snap back down as he lets it fall back into place, pushing himself out of his seat to wander over to inspect the poor creature that Mordred has wrangled into submission, entirely fearless as he rolls to tip-toes in order to scratch it behind the ears. Mordred gets a scornful glance. ]

You're not the only one who's been changed today. [ He lets his control on his voice slip, to emphasize - less squeaky, and undeniably a girl's voice. ]

[penisenvy]

Well, I thought I'd let you take over both these tokens and this beast of burden.

[She shakes the box of candy.]

...But now that you have also been changed...

[She gets a mischievous grin on her face.]

I guess I'm wooing you, fair maiden.

[earlybird]

[ One moment he is standing on the floor, petting the warg. The next, in the span of an eye blink, he is crouching, balanced and catlike, on the warg's shoulders in front of her, narrowed eyes barely two inches from her own. From this distance it's easier to see all the smaller shifts to his face - finer bone structure, a thinner brow, more reds and pinks mixed into the tanned skin of his cheeks and mouth. ]

You want to run that one by me again?

[ It is also easier to see the warning scowl on his face, sharp and dangerous. ]

[ (Another line is added to arthurian legend.) ]

[penisenvy]

[Even if Damian is scowling, she can't help but think he makes an adequately pretty girl. Certainly no worse than the other children running around town.]

[She stares back into his angry eyes and smiles, showing no fear.]

I have decided to grace you with my attentions.

[And then gathering up all her presents into one hand, she reaches out with her free hand to gently tap Damian on the nose.]

Rejoice. Not every girl has a prince taking the effort to ride up to her bower.