Title: Crossing Over
Fandom: Aion
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1857
Author notes: This is for the Drag Challenge
Summary: Tristyn desides to cross over to the dark side. Elliot takes advantage of him while he's helpless.


Tristyn starred at the social orb for half a minute before getting up to walk around his studio. Who would have thought that these Asmodians would prove to be so interesting… fun even. He looked around at his sparsely decorated space. His walls were a mint green with polka dots. It was a bit … feminine for his taste, but it was free, and he was never one to complain about free things. He had three tables, and every one of them was given to him. Two plants and a statue of a giant he had placed in the doorway to scare people were the only personal touches he’d gone out and gotten for himself. Tristyn sighed. There was little reason for him to stay.

Moving to the balcony Tristyn looked out over Oriel feeling very much like a Lord surveying his subjects. He was Lord Cleric! The cleric all other clerics looked up to. There were Elyos everywhere. They were all morons. The only people he could ever stand were the people in his legion. They didn’t suck at just about everything. Not that his friends list on his social orb wasn’t just about full. He was a damn good cleric and could keep just about any group of random dumb asses alive, not that it matter that he thought they were idiots; everyone clamored to “friend” him. As they should! He was amazing!

Elysea.

Could he give it up? All for the chance at love. Was he really That Guy? He swore he’d never be That Guy. That Romantic Guy was someone he mocked and laughed at. “Balls in a vice!” he used to say when men let women ruin their lives. Tristyn was pretty sure that was what Gimp would do.

Not to mention the war. He would, in a way, be betraying his race by joining the Asmodians. The enemy. It could be worse. It could be the Balaur. Those dragons needed to die.

It’s not like he wouldn’t sneak back in to Elysea and help his team. It was the first thing Tristyn negotiated in. Couldn’t let the woman take away everything he was. Rayvond and Saavedra had always been there for him, and he was not going to abandon them. Aion only knew what kind of trouble they would get into without him, anyway. They were pretty much helpless. Well, Rayvond was, and he usually needed at least two competent people there to offset his particular brand of idiocy, sometimes three.

The wind blew a few strands of green hair into his face. Tristyn didn’t really care about anyone else here. Brushing the fair out of his eyes, caught a glimpse of his hands. After the change he would have claws. Claws. Elliot said it was necessary.

Tristyn was not sure about that particular point. Changing his skin color was one thing. Back hair, he could live with…. Clawed hands and feet were another story. It seemed so… animalistic, and not in a sexy “I want to fuck you like an animal” kind of way. More in a bloody mess, eating uncooked meat from a fresh kill kind of way. Tristyn walked back inside and to his social orb and opened Gimp’s page. She was something else. She was witty and powerful… not to mention hot. He was half is love with her already. Frowning, Tristyn made his choice. He would never hear the end of it.

Tristyn pulled up Elliot’s page next, and sent him a brief message about being willing to let Elliot experiment on his body. The two would have to meet in secret, because Elyos and Asmodians working together was a highly suspicious event. After the details were worked out, Tristyn took one last look around his place. He grabbed the shit he would need to go Asmo hunting for probably the last time ever.

---

Elliot was circling Tristyn. The sorcerer had brought with him a pack of bottles and a trunk full of things. He was taller than Tristyn had expected him to be.

“Hmmmm” Elliot muttered, walking to Tristyn’s front.

“What?” the cleric asked. Elliot flinched for not the first time when Tristyn spoke. He seemed to think the Elyos was going to attack him at any given moment.

“Well, the green hair and yellow eyes will work in Asmodae. We shouldn’t have to change that. Your clothes will have to change, and skin color, of course. You’re skin needs a bit more pigment to fit in Asmodae. I’m thinking green. We could just do a green theme! It’s a good thing you have some decent muscles on that body of yours, it’s about the only thing that’s not unfortunately Elyos-like. You just have to trust me! I’m practically a fasionista.”

“Oh yeah… I feel so trusting!” Sarcasm dripped from the statement. The tall lad had moved to the pack he’d brought with him with the bottles.

“Look, do you want me to help you or not?” Elliot had three bottles in his light purple hands. He held them out to the cleric.

Tristyn took the bottles and looked at them “What are these?”

“Drink them! They will change you into one of us, if I’ve done my calculations correctly. Science can do anything! It’s so fascinating!” Elliot was practically jumping with excitement.

“Science?”

“Yes! Science! What were you expecting?”

“I dunno, magic? You’re a sorcerer!” Tristyn shrugged.

Elliot glanced over from where he had moved back to the trunk. It was a “don’t be an idiot” look. The trunk was full of what looked to be clothes. “Look, Just drink it, Tristyn. Don’t be a baby.” Elliot cast a scrutinizing gaze at Tristyn until the cleric scowled and downed them one after another, making a face. Elliot pulled out another bottle and walked back over to where the Cleric was still shaking from the taste of the swill. “Take your clothes off.”

“Gah-What?” Tristyn looked up at Elliot

“Clothes. Off.” He crossed his arms after commanding.

“Are you sure you just don’t want to get me naked?” Tristyn smirked in at the man crouching in front of him.

“Oh, please. Elyos and their arrogance! I’m going to color your skin, permanently. Unless you want me to ruin your nice clothes? Besides, I have Spears, and his muscles make you look like a weakling. Now, Off!” He glared down at Tristyn from behind a sheet of yellow hair. It was kind of scary. Apparently, he was taking his job seriously.
Tristyn slowly took off his clothing, feeling more and more lightheaded by the second. Elliot started spraying Tristyn down with the liquid. Tristyn was feeling weird from the concoctions he’d consumed. The light spray of the color was very relaxing. Eventually, the world blacked out around him.

When he opened his eyes, things were different. Wrong, even. And there was this… clicking sound. By the time his eyes focused a feeling of dread had settled in. He had a good idea of what the clicking noise was.

Elliot was in front of him cackling. And he had a camera. And he was taking pictures of Tristyn, who was in a dress. He reached up to his head and found a wig. “Is there make-up on my face?!”

The bastard just smiled.

“You are…. so lucky Gimp would never forgive me if I took vengeance upon you….”Tristyn was shaking, and feeling weak. If he was honest, that more than anything, was keeping him from at least pulling out his holy servant and expressing his displeasure with the lad.

This made Elliot cackle heartily. “You’re so beautiful!”

“I’m in DRAG!” Tristyn was just…. Outraged. He was in a bright green gown and had feathers coming out of a green wig. The make-up on his face was so thick he was afraid it was going to crack and flake off. He even had fake boobs on his chest. “I have BOOBS!” He brought his hand up to cup them.

“It’s called a chest plate! Do you like them?” Elliot was looking far too pleased with himself.

“No! Did Gimp up you up to this?! Was there even anything in those potions you made me take?” Tristyn tried to cross his arms and found the boobs got in the way; he growled and made a fist at his side.

“Well, no. But her quoting that drag queen gave me the idea!” He brought the camera up to his face and took another picture. He was far too pleased with himself. “I’m taking these for black mail and security. If you ever go back to Elysea…Let’s just say everyone in Atreia will see you in drag. No one will take you seriously. The Social Network is a very vicious place.” Elliot’s eyes had taken on a slightly red glow. The fighting spirit that all Asmodians had inside of them was starting to peek through. It always unnerved Tristyn a bit. “And all the potions I gave you were necessary. I just knew the one would have some… er… interesting side effects that I thought I would take advantage of!”

“Gimp put you up to this.” Tristyn said it with confidence. He knew she had to be behind it. There was no way she wasn’t involved.

“She leant me some of the clothing and the camera.” Elliot relented after taking yet another picture. Tristyn was starting to feel weird again. It was getting hard to breath.

“Did you put something on my chest? I can’t breathe.” He pushed the wig off his head and it flopped to the ground. Elliot set the camera down and hurried to Tristyn.

“No, I didn’t. Are you okay?” Worry was written plainly on his face. He placed a hand on Tristyn’s back. His skin burned where Elliot touched him.

“I don’t know. My body is starting to hurt.. My hands…” He flexed his hands. They seemed to be… elongating. His back was starting to hurt and itch. He wanted out of these clothes. “Elliot…” and then all he felt was agony. He ripped the rest of the drag off, tearing it at the seams. His hands were turning into claws. It was working. Oh my god… Aion save me.

“Your bones are changing… I can give you something for the pain, but it will probably knock you out… I’ll clean you up and change you. I promise I won’t do anything else.” Elliot’s voice was soft. All hint of glow was gone from his eyes. Tristyn doubled over, crying out in pain.

“Get it!” He shouted, to the Asmodian who hurried over to his pack and took out a new bottle. Opening it on the way, Elliot pushed the bottle into Tristyn’s changing hands. The liquid was cool and soothing as it slid down his throat. The pain was bordering on unbearable and then it was gone. Tristyn was out.

When he came to Tristyn was in rags, Elliot was pacing nearby, and everything in Tristyn’s body felt wrong. He was weak. He could feel it. Not just weak. Something else… He had lost his wings.

He looked at Elliot in horror. “Elliot, I’m human.”.