[open] I never met a more impossible girl; any

[Cordis]

The new body is strange. Though she has the ability, Cordis does not often alter her appearance. She likes her silver, likes her lightning, finds no reason to change it.
(Besides, should Spyndle, impossibly, come looking – maybe she wants to be easy to spot. A beacon, hollering her home.)
But there is a certain pleasure in darkness, sitting in the gaping maw of shadows. The shadow feels thick on her skin, velvety, and though she itches for the lightning back, she does not want to sacrifice this. Not now, at least.
Though when the creature moves, brushes against her, instinct is back, trumping any game Cordis might want to play, and lightning crackles over the ink-dark, snapping at the creature, who has already moved away, and then there is darkness again.
“Don’t,” she says, simply, and her voice is flat, “or I’ll light this whole place up.”
She is tempted to do so anyway, to punish the creature for its transgression, for the brush of her side in the impossible dark. Not to break the world, but to break something, maybe.

“What am I distracting you from?” she asks, keeping her focus on those yellow eyes, ready for any sign of movement. The darkness feels thicker, and lightning itches under her skin, invisible to their eyes but oh, she feels it, one of the most integral parts of her, begging to be set free.

I’ll touch you all and make damn sure

Cordis

that no one touches me