by Will Stanton » Wed Apr 03, 2024 6:18 pm
The Wills Sam shifted with started shrinking and spreading out as soon as she bean infusing them, collapsing into the sides of the cauldron and merging with the base. Each figure's form, which gradually became silver inlays on the cast iron surface, began to match Sam's mental picture of aesthetically pleasing. A sigh of...contentment, perhaps?...escaped their lips before they were fully cast in silver, their expressions matching those feelings of safety and bliss that Sam was pumping into them.
The four Wills merged and joined, blurring and melting into one another seamlessly. No clear joints or splits here; it was as if the entire thing had been cast from one piece of iron and shaped to perfection, with fine artistry, detail and exquisite precision in the raised silver figures, looking back out and watching over the room itself. The polished surface of the cauldron had a faint iridescent sheen, faintly reflecting the ambient light in the nightclub. The wide base tapered off into a flared rim, with little sign of wear nor tear. It is a substantial object; one that, as currently situated, could hold a substantial amount of ingredients and liquid. It was probably a good thing, on the whole, that Will was a shifter and could forced to grow or shrink as necessary, for there was a fine line somewhere between 'able to hold all of this nonsense' and 'dominated the room'.