Story number 2! Wanted to really focus on the TF process in this one so enjoy 3k words of Noivern content.

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Spirits soar as you step into your house, finally it was the weekend!

Tight deadlines, near-constant technical issues with the developer tools, and a power outage in the middle of the week were just some of the challenges you’d dealt with. You’d gotten into game development thinking it would be fun, but weeks like this one almost made you want to never look at a computer again!

“Free at last!” You announced to your quaint home as you made for the living room. Determined to waste no time in enjoying your rest, you’d already ordered a pizza delivery just before
driving home. You were looking forward to slobbing out and relaxing without even the minor nuisance of having to cook.

Which now left you with the best problem in the world to have – what to do with your free time? You think on this vexing problem, still in the mindset of a developer fixing issues one at a time, and already one obvious thing to rectify occurs to you.

“It is way too quiet in here!” You decided, your voice temporarily correcting the quiet before you turned and moved towards the object that would provide a more reliable solution to the lack of noise.

Approaching the wall shelf, you picked up the small tinny radio resting upon it. A gift from some old friend you’d sworn you’d keep in contact with several times now. The device had accumulated a fine layer of dust on it from weeks of neglect. But your ears already ached from having your headphones on at work (And to be honest, you were too lazy to fish them out of your work bag anyway). Finally, it would be the little radio’s turn to add some backing music to the beginning of your lazy weekend.

“Does anyone still remember how to use these?” You asked no-one, fiddling with the knobs as the radio spat out nothing but white noise as you tried to remember how to tune the device to your liking.

You were contemplating throwing in the towel and just searching it up online when you finally heard something legible on the airwaves; a country station blaring out some twee ditty from 20 years ago. Your mum probably would have loved it, but your tastes demanded something else. Thankfully you seemed to have got the hang of the radio controls so with increased confidence you twiddled the knobs again to another station.

Landing next on a mainstream station currently droning tediously through the weather, you found and ignored several stations, scanning through the airwaves until-

*KRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT*

The blast of radio static sends the radio tumbling out of your hands as you reflexively lifted them to shield your ears from the deafening blast of sound. Wincing, you gingerly removed them a second later as the moment passed, ears still ringing.

The radio had dulled to a marginally more tolerable hum now, a garbled mess of static and whines. Yet still your ears seemed to ring with the echo of that deafening noise.

“That better not have given me tinnitus now…” you groaned, kneeling to pick up the offending object. Weirdly, the radio did seem to be ON a specific station, yet the small screen on the front wasn’t displaying a station name.

Thoughts of turning the radio off were slow to manifest, disoriented as you were. It was like your thoughts had been blasted apart by the radio noise and were slow to piece themselves together again. Which explained how – as you moved to massage your still-ringing ears – you didn’t notice the odd texture of your ears. The skin of your inner ear was starting to faintly flake, revealing smooth bluish-green scales underneath.

“What…what was I doing?” You wondered out loud, attempting again to marshal your thoughts. Your head felt so sluggish! You were starting to sweat too, feeling way too hot all of a sudden.

Were you coming down with something?

You lifted your arms up and shimmied your jumper off, revealing the unnatural growth of white hair spreading around your neck and under the neckline of your T-shirt. You ran a hand through the developing pelt, finding it soft and thick to the touch.

“What is this!?!” You yelled with clarity starting to return to you – you were at least ninety percent sure growing white hair around your neck was NOT normal. But that wasn’t all.

When you pulled your hand out of the developing neck fluff, you recoiled slightly at the mutation that had started to overtake it. Like your hand was infected by contact with your new neck mane. Your fingers had started to flake off as if disintegrating before your eyes. Yet underneath you found black scales, impulse compelling you to touch it with your other hand, feeling the eerily smooth texture of distinctly
reptilian scales.

You realised your error a moment too late as again the changes seemed to jump to the unblemished hand, already more jet-black scales appearing on it. You stared aghast at your deforming hands. Even your nails began to discolour into a vibrant red as they began to elongate slightly into what you somehow knew to be developing claws.

Panic setting in, you were paralyzed standing there while your hands continued to gain more scales, and your neck mane continued to grow and thicken. You felt on the edge of a panic
attack, but you couldn’t deny that the cozy warmth around your neck now was…comforting in a way?

“This…is this because of the radio?”

You again turned to the small radio, still blaring static on the floor. Anger welled inside you as you crouched down to retrieve it and throw it out the windo-

*KRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT*

As if in self-defence, the radio blasted out another mind scrambling blast of noise that annihilated your balance and sent you falling onto your back. Weakly rising to a sitting position, you still felt the anger
from mere seconds before but with all context drowned out by static, your stress spiking as a result.

Obeying instinct, you tilted your head down slightly and started to nibble anxiously at your new neck mane. Already you felt strangely comforted by the instinctive stress response. As if in affirmation of this your teeth began to lengthen, taking the form of sharper draconic fangs as if to aid you in biting through the now dense fluff of your neck fur. Your attention returned to the radio, but all thoughts of
turning it off had been lost to the static as you instead paid keen attention to the broadcast. What you had once assumed to be random white noise now seemed to make…sense?

The subtly rewiring synapses in your brain begin to pick out patterns in the noise, as if the broadcast was a language you couldn’t speak. What was it trying to say to you?

Your body again responded to this question. Your ears – now almost entirely lined inside with green scales – began to swell larger, shifting upwards on your head with an uncomfortable tugging sensation. You didn’t even notice however, enamoured with the radio as you were. You were transfixed by it, continuing to try and find some meaning in the noise but failing.

“I’m…I’m getting distracted…” You realised dimly.

Your body is tingling all over now, and it feels soooo pleasant. Heat from your changing body warms you like a fireplace, until the sensation itself changes to an uncomfortable tightness. Breathing feeling harder, you feel constricted within your thin, previously baggy clothes. Clothes which now feel a size too short as you subtly grow.

Another distinct, clear noise emits from the radio.

“Take your shirt off.” [/i]

Without question you obey. You lift your scaled hands up to your shirt, before realising the fur around your neck obstructs you from lifting it over your hand. Emerging instincts suggest an alternative however that you are quick to act on.

With nails that have almost completely changed into blood-red claws, you tear into the shirt desperately. Immediately you feel relief as your chest is freed from the fabric prison you had trapped it in. More flakes of skin shed off your chest now, revealing spots of purple scales that continue to spread across your swelling chest.

The shirt is already off after a couple swipes from your new claws, but still, you rip and tear into the offending garment. A heat builds in your throat, bubbling to the surface. Unleashing a feral snarl as you reduce the shirt to scraps on the floor, breathing deeply.

“I…what am I doing?” You wonder aloud as you sit there trying to collect yourself. You know something is wrong and yet, with your neck swathed in fur and your claws shaking off the last remnants of fabric you cannot figure out what it is.

You feel…wrong. But its not the continued white noise in the background or your developing scales that are the source. You gaze down at your lower body still clothed and again that urge to snarl rises in your throat before you quash it down.

“Why am I wearing this?” Again you question yourself. Your mind is caught in between what your human mind is telling you and what your warping instincts KNOW to be true.

Impulsively you begin to remove your shoes and socks, feeling a rush of relief as your feet are freed that compels you further. Your belt is removed with shaking claws as you fumble to remove it next, scratching your jeans in the process before those too are removed and flung away.

“It’s my house and I can strip off on the floor if I want!”

You affirm to yourself, providing a human justification for your actions out of obligation more than anything else. You just can’t bear to be trapped in these clothes for another
second! Ripping off and discarding the last of your clothes, you flip over onto your front, your clawed hands digging into the carpet in a deeply satisfying way.

“Good dragon.”

Your head swivels sharply to the radio. You stare unblinkingly waiting for another message to be heard while the radio reverts to static. Your ears – now twice the size and positioned at the top of your – swell further, now looking like amps worn atop your head. The scales have almost fully overtaken them, jet-black and smooth. The amp analogy is only furthered when the inner ear pulses like one, emitting strange
high-pitched whines.

You’re not even aware you’re doing it, it’s as automatic as breathing. Somewhere in your warping subconscious you understand that you can communicate with these noises you can emit but your attempts are garbled and spotty. You haven’t yet figured out how to “speak” like that.

“You’re on your way Noivern don’t worry.”


The white noise translates automatically in your mind, a powerful surge of excitement rises within you before disappearing a moment later before you can understand it. Tilting your head confused you try to respond.

“Noivern? What are you talking about?”

At least that’s what you think you say, unaware of the shrieks and chirps that actually escape your mouth. A mouth that streeeeetches out into something more akin to a reptilian muzzle. Giving more room for lengthening fangs to grow and fill the space.

The stretching feeling soothes you, your eyes closing in contentment as you rush your lengthening tongue over your sharper teeth. The sheer strength of your bite now is intoxicating. You feel powerful. Savage. Unrestrained.

Once again your body seemingly responds to your warping thoughts. A pain starts to build at the bottom of your back, something inside trying to break free. Gritting your fangs at the sensation your eyes blink open, revealing golden sclera and slitted black pupils. Cringing, you feel the urge to stretch out, as if to stretch out a strained muscle.

You continue to shed skin off your face, scales emerging everywhere on it. Purple on the lower jaw and black everywhere else. Your tensed brow is the last part of it to change, the skin red from how hard you’re tensing it from the back pain. The red intensifies as your brows harden and merge, jutting out further from your increasingly inhuman muzzle, creating an intimidating red crest.

As it does the pain finally crescendos as a new appendage emerges all too slowly from above your rear. The nascent beginnings of a tail stretches out pitifully thin, but you can FEEL the energy and blood rushing to your new limb as it quickly bulks up with muscle. You gasp huskily, it feels AMAZING!

“Thaaaaaat’s it…a mighty dragon like you needs a strong tail, right?”

Lost in the liberating feeling of your growing tail you only SCREEEECH out your agreement. It was like stretching a muscle you hadn’t exercised in years!

“Let’s remind you how to work that tail of yours yes?”

Before you can shriek out your agreement to that question the radio picks up in volume, the white noise again blaring out in patterns that wash out your mind. Your eyes roll up into your skull as your arms give out beneath you, causing you to flop onto the floor.

It’s so much. The broadcast changes pitch and frequency several times a second. Every time you think you’ve picked out a pattern it shifts again sending your awareness reeling. What mental defences you even had left were immediately overwhelmed as coded instructions began to seep in between the cracks. You could do nothing but lie there…and listen.

The lengthening tail snaking out behind you becomes the only part of you that’s moving. As your mind is trained on how to manage this extra limb it begins to flail around. It smacks errantly into the floor and your increasingly scaly legs, each impact removing more flaking skin.

You can feel the weight of your tail as it thickens at the base, while extending longer and longer till it’s as long on its’ own than the rest of you! It swells with muscle, tapering to an arrow-like point at the end, your tail’s flailing now causing a deeper *THUMP* in the floor as it slams into it.

Throughout it all you just listen. The static doesn’t just corrupt your failing mind, it destroys it. You lie there, maw agape and drooling as everything that made you human is drowned in the onslaught of information being broadcast to you. Your altering body swells as if being filled with the noise, till you’re a size more befitting the adult drake the static assures you you’ve always been.

Your tail finally finishes growing, fully covered in black and purple scales just like most of your body, as your brain finishes rewiring to accommodate it. It finally falls in line with the rest of you as it rests languidly on the floor between your still human legs. Even in your stupefied state you can’t help but slide your new tail back and forth along the floor as you enjoy the lovely static blaring into your amp-like ears.

It seems like forever you’ve been there listening but eventually the broadcast dies down to a background hum again and you begin to ease out of your reverie, rising again into a crouch. As you do, your feet and ankles snap and crack painlessly, realigning themselves to better support your altered hindquarters.

For the last time your mind re-knits itself back together. With all other thoughts drowned by the static, the words of the radio broadcast become the only foundation you have with
which to rebuild your mind. Memory of human language has long since left you. In its place an instinctual understanding of the various screeches and chirps you could make took its’ place. How the differences in pitch and posture could change the meaning of your screeches. You began to understand all the sounds you could emit from your massive ears.

A pleased growl grew in your throat as you remembered how you could use those soundwaves to disorient prey like it was second nature. The static spoke to you of new memories, predating on weak Pokémon, flying above them until -

“SCREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”

Where were your wings!?! You raged and thrashed in panic, cutting deep lines in the carpet with your claws as you did so. Pictures of a human family were sent flying off the shelf
and smashed on the floor as your tail thundered into them.

“Ah yes…but what would a mighty Noivern be without its wings?”

Consciously you paid no heed to the human words playing over the radio – all meaning in the distinctly human syllables lost to your animalistic brain. But your body knew what it had to
do.

Emerging from your foreclaws a thick membrane broke out of each arm and stretched apart from you, running from your claws all the way to your shoulder. Black on the outside, with the same bluish green as your inner ear on the inside, your panic began to die down at the sight. As they grew to a truly magnificent size the outer scales began to grow in a royal purple, befitting a majestic beast like you.

You panted in relief, the warmth of heady dragon breath tickling your nose as the aches fizzled out, leaving you with a glorious wingspan. Again, that heat bubbled in your throat, welling up into an announcement to the world.

“SCREEEEEE-EE-EE-EEE-EEE”

You unleashed a chittering shriek at full volume, stretching your bat-like wings wide and standing to your full height, the tips of your ears scraping the ceiling. Pride surged through you as you fell back into your normal stance resting on your foreclaws.

Finally, you felt like yourself again!

With a rigorous shake you luxuriated in the feeling of your thick neck mane swishing back and forth. The remaining flakes of ugly human skin fell away from your powerful body, leaving you adorned with only your beautiful smooth scales.

As it should be.

*DING-DONG*

The resonant chimes of a doorbell rang out. You snapped to attention, eyes wide and unblinking. You gazed out the window at a red pizza van parked outside. In the door window you saw
the blurred outline of a human standing expectantly, the rectangular shape of a pizza box in their hands.

Your stomach growled at you, as you churred excitedly. It was time for Noivern to go hunting.

Carefully moving towards the front door, your hind claws stomped onto the radio, finally quieting the room of its broadcast. Yet you didn’t notice any difference.

The static still played in your mind, guiding you onward.

“All should hear this broadcast” The static whispered to you as you approached the front door. You growled eagerly as you began to project that wonderful static noise in your head through your ears. You couldn’t agree more.