[ his voice noticeably gets more monstrous, deeper, rumbling as he starts to shift -- hunching over, limbs extending into long, sloping lynx arms and legs but --
noticeably much larger than what a lynx would actually be, claws wickedly hooked ]
[At this, J slumps over completely, as his hair just -- blooms, lengthening even more rapidly and coiling into a mass of inky black tendrils. His body is still there, but it's quickly buoyed upwards and cocooned deep in the center of the writhing black locks of hair. If it's really even hair, now. The pale shape of his face is still barely visible, eyes tightly closed as if in a nightmare.
As the writhing tangle reaches its final height of about 8 feet, some of the larger gaps between the coils of hair flicker -- and eyes open in them, electric blue irises rolling wildly within the oblong whites.]
[ Whisky's own transformation completes as J's does and he is a lynx but eight feet long and half as tall, his eyes not normally slitted but instead a pure black; when he parts his mouth to hiss all of his teeth are unusually long and sharp, as his body drops, haunches tense and ready to pounce. ]
[The initial set of tendrils don't quite get a grip in time to stop Whiskey from pouncing, but another set whips out to meet him. These ones aim for the front of his body, reaching for his shoulders and neck.]
[ the tendrils get around his neck but he's clinging to the tendrils as best as he can still, clawing as if trying to rip them open to, to tear and get inside ]
[The tendrils still look and feel like hair -- dozens, hundreds of thin strands packed together and moving as one. There's no meat or bone in there per se . . . yet it smells as appetizing as if there were. The individual strands break easily under Whiskey's claws, tangling in them or fluttering to the floor. But each of the coils of hair that make up J's body is thick enough that it's going to take a few good swipes each to sever them completely
Meanwhile, the tendrils around Whiskey's neck tighten, trying to get a firmer grip without actually cutting off his air. And, J's overall mass shrinks as even more reach out for Whiskey's front half, grabbing for shoulders and legs.]
[ Whisky hisses loud and angry as the tendrils tighten, though obviously that gets strained as air flow gets restricted, and his claws curl and tear into more tendrils even as his legs get somewhat more restrained; he can kick with them, try to free himself of the shadowy pieces but his main effort is trying to bear down into the mass ]
[Yes, good. Keep struggling toward that center. Look at that soft sleeping face dangling so close now.
Shreds of hair are still falling and tangling around them, but the tendrils that have already caught Whiskey curl tighter nonetheless. And, more than that, the blue eyes dotting those thick locks of hair roll and blink shut -- and open again as oblong mouths lined with white fangs. Time to start chewing.]
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[ his voice noticeably gets more monstrous, deeper, rumbling as he starts to shift -- hunching over, limbs extending into long, sloping lynx arms and legs but --
noticeably much larger than what a lynx would actually be, claws wickedly hooked ]
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As the writhing tangle reaches its final height of about 8 feet, some of the larger gaps between the coils of hair flicker -- and eyes open in them, electric blue irises rolling wildly within the oblong whites.]
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Meanwhile, the tendrils around Whiskey's neck tighten, trying to get a firmer grip without actually cutting off his air. And, J's overall mass shrinks as even more reach out for Whiskey's front half, grabbing for shoulders and legs.]
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Shreds of hair are still falling and tangling around them, but the tendrils that have already caught Whiskey curl tighter nonetheless. And, more than that, the blue eyes dotting those thick locks of hair roll and blink shut -- and open again as oblong mouths lined with white fangs. Time to start chewing.]