Changing Island: Entries 1-3

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So, a very long time ago I had the idea to write a series of captions about the inhabitants of a mysterious island, as told by one recent arrival. It was the first series of captions with any continuity between them (as far as I can recall) and probably also my first attempt ever to tell any sort of coherent story that spanned several transformations. It was supposed to either culminate in the entry describing the narrator's change or go through that at some point only to continue, but despite having three or four more captions partially written or planned I eventually more or less scrapped the entire idea with only three captions written.

Lately, as I have been feeling ambitious, I thought I might try and revive the series of captions as a story instead, with each entry being what would have been a caption before. So that's what this is. This particular post covers the first three entries, which are fully rewritten versions of the three Changing Island captions that did get finished and put out. Feel free to compare differences in writing, setting, events, so on as you like, but I do consider this to be much better written overall.

Hopefully I'll be inspired enough to write an Entry 4 and beyond that will actually be fully new, at least to everyone who isn't me, since a few of the partially written captions are planned to be incorporated as well.

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Entry 1

My name is Lucas Jost. If you know me, I guess you can be happy that I'm okay, but it seems it's going to be a little difficult for me to get home, or for you to visit. I was on an expedition to the north, but our ship broke up in a storm and I was pretty sure I was going to drown or freeze to death. Instead, I woke up on the beach of a temperate island, completely unharmed.

This isn't an abandoned island, either. But there is something strange about it. All of the inhabitants are women, and say they used to be male. There are computers, clothes, houses, and food and drink seemingly provided from nowhere. The computers even have Internet access, from anywhere on the island, which is how I'm able to put this up in the first place, but any site that tries to identify the location of the computer mysteriously fails.

It seems that efforts to work out where this island would have to be by who's washed ashore here have also failed, as people have shown up from all around the globe. It was bad enough to think that I had gone from somewhere near the north pole to a place as close to the equator as this would have to be to have the weather it does. Those who live here (which I suppose includes me from now on) call this place the Changing Island, for both its apparent ability to change its location in the world and that which I mentioned before, the change of those who live here.

Well, given my occupation (or, prior occupation I suppose) I can't help a desire to try and chronicle events here. It seems like a good place to start is with the stories of the inhabitants, so I am taking some interviews and paraphrasing accounts of the people who wound up here. I was debating how to organize this, considering something more chronological, but the more I think on it the more it makes sense to just list stories in the order I learn them, beginning with that of their leader.

Her name is Najira; she doesn't exactly govern in the sense that a king or prime minister does, she just handles disputes and lays down general rules for behavior when necessary. It seems more like something people expected of her and she took on than her having declared for herself at any point. Anyway, she washed ashore here five years ago as Naj; he had been living in an apartment alone and scraping out a meager living with a disproportionately large amount of work. He won a vacation on a cruise ship in some sweepstakes, and about halfway through there was some bad weather, and everyone was advised to stay inside. He went to bed in his cabin that night, and woke up on this island's shore with nothing but the clothes he'd gone to bed in...and barely that; they were badly torn up.

Naj was the first person to arrive, so there was nobody here to greet him. The first thing her did after waking up was go farther inland, to look for civilization. What he found was very unusual. There were several houses, well-made, two-story, and apparently well-maintained, with plenty of food, running water and electricity, but there was nobody in any of the houses. They were also completely unlocked; in fact none of the doors even had locks except the bathroom doors inside. The houses' refrigerators and cabinets were full of food, and because he was hungry, Naj took some. It was very good. He spent the day exploring, but returned to the first house he'd come to for lunch and dinner. Eventually the sun set, and he went to one of the bedrooms in that house, took off his mostly-destroyed outer clothes, and went to bed in just his boxers, hoping that if someone did own this place, they would be understanding.

The next morning Naj woke up with aquamarine hair and purple eyes. Of course, he didn't know that until he looked in the mirror. Also, his skin had somehow lost a lot of its hair and all of its blemishes, even a birthmark on his wrist. It had taken on a slightly paler, though not unhealthy, tone. He wondered if there was something in the food or drinks here, but it hadn't killed him, and he'd have to keep eating or starve. So he had breakfast.

Being alone and bored, after breakfast Naj entered the library room in "his" house, and found several bookshelves, each full of books on a particular topic arranged alphabetically. One shelf was full of cookbooks, and he got the idea to try and cook some of the recipes, figuring it would take until he was actually hungry to make something decent. That turned out to be about right.

He noticed about halfway through the morning that he was brushing his bangs out of his eyes, and then that his hair had grown out nearly to his shoulders, framing his face. By the time he'd managed to make something edible his hair had become so long that he could feel it all the way down his back. For some reason, he had never thought to put back on his clothes from the day before, and now that he did think about it he went and looked for them where he'd left them, but they were gone.

He looked around "his" house a little more, and eventually found a bunch laptops in what looked to be some sort of office. Turning one of them on, he found what I've already mentioned—an Internet connection. But he didn't really have anyone he wanted to contact, when he really thought about it, so he just found some games to play, to pass the time. He was busy with that until his stomach angrily growled, and when he looked around he saw out the window that it was about sunset. He got up and paused, noticing something felt different about his stance.

Indeed, he had ecome thinner, his stomach especially, except his hips and upper legs were wider than before, which explained why he had to place his feet differently to keep balanced. His shorts had also changed a little too, becoming tighter and shorter, and the colors had faded somewhat. He ate supper and then, feeling unusually tired, went back to bed in "his" room.

He woke up late the next morning, and found that his body had changed shape even more: Now he was even thinner, with narrower shoulders; his arms were slim and his hands and feet had become smaller. He went over to a mirror and saw that his face had become more rounded and feminine. He ran a hand across his chin before something lower down caught his eye. He discovered that his shorts had shrunk into a tiny white bikini bottom, and further that it was snug and comfortably flat between his legs.

Naj told me that she blinked a couple of times, put her fingers in the odd gap between her thighs, and then finally said, "...Oh." At that point, she noticed that her voice (which she hadn't used since yelling a couple of times in the empty town and houses in an effort to see if anyone was there) had become a very distinctly female alto tone. Almost as soon as she had realized the change in sex, she felt a sudden outward push from her chest, and made her second sound as a woman, a surprised "Aah!"

She watched, wide-eyed, as her nipples rose up, followed by little bumps around them, followed by more of the chest around that. Her face reddened and she crossed her arms over the bumps, and felt them pushing forward against her arms as they continued to grow. Before she could really process what had happened, they had burst out into a pair of large, full breasts.

Najira describes what happened next in terms of emotions. She felt happy somehow, as if she'd been set free from her old life. It was at this point she felt like calling herself by a new name, even though there wasn't anyone to introduce herself by it yet. She found the dresser in her bedroom full of bikinis and other feminine wear, including a top matching the bottoms she was wearing; all of them matched her size exactly. So she put that on, in case anyone else did show up. I interviewed her in exactly that first set of clothes today, and have included a picture:

Curiously, I've seen old pictures of her from near the time she first washed up on the island. She doesn't look any older than those at all. Some of the girls here speculate that the island's "magic" or whatever it is that changes people also grants some kind of longevity, or at least a continually youthful appearance. I'm hesitant to draw such a conclusion, though it's certain a number of strange things are going on.

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Entry 2

My second interview was with a relatively recent arrival to the island, from a few months ago; her name is Danny. She used to be named Dan. I was given a picture of how she used to look: Tall, fit, handsome. It seems at some point it became a tradition to take "before" and "after" photos of people who come to this island, though of course we have no picture of Najira as Naj since he was the first here. I had my "before" picture taken yesterday, in the rush of welcoming and getting accustomed to this place, but I don't seem to have changed any yet.

About Dan. He was a surfer of the highest caliber, winning competitions all over and getting enough local endorsements to live off of his passion. It seems like he was on the cusp of becoming truly famous, but he did have enemies in others envious of both his appearance and his abilities. It seems he was participating in a certain competition off the coast of Florida, but his board had been sabotaged. I'm uncertain of the meaning of the technical terms, but apparently it was impossible to remain standing on it because whatever they had done had made it very slippery.

At any rate, he "wiped out" terribly a bit too far out, most likely (according to Danny) hit a rock with his head and passed out, and then awoke on the shore of Changing Island. He had only two things with him when he first arrived: His swimming trunks and his beloved skateboard, which was mysteriously unharmed, in perfect condition in fact, and free of the damage that whatever cheating competitor had done to it.

Dan was almost immediately greeted by some of the earlier castaways—all women, of course. He asked if there was "Nothing but chicks on this island," and they told him about the changing.

He just shrugged. "Eh, that's alright. If I'm a dude or if I'm a chick, 's long as I get to surf." He meant that seriously; soon after meeting everyone he paddled his way back out to the waves and spent the rest of the daylight surfing.

His skills were as impressive as ever, and those who stuck around to watch enjoyed the show. But each time he came back to shore he was a little shorter and smaller, and by the end of the day his height had sunk by at least two and a half feet. Since he didn't eat anything on the island until after sunset that day, I suppose we can fully rule out the idea that the food or drink that mysteriously appears here is responsible for people changing.

The next day he found that his hair had turned blue and grown so long it was a little in his face. He asked one of the girls for a hairband, and tied a bit of it up in a ponytail off to the side—apparently that was easier. His skin had become much paler, and his muscles were less visibly defined, though he felt no less fit than before. After eating some breakfast someone else in the house he'd been given made, he took his board and hit the waves.

When Dan was eating lunch that day, one of the girls asked if he could teach her to surf. Before long everyone at the table was making the same request, and he finally conceded. He still wanted to surf solo some of the time, though, so he agreed to teach for a couple of hours in the morning, a couple in the afternoon, and maybe occasionally pick a day to do nothing but teach if he felt like it. It was enough to get everyone off his back so he could go back out surf. His stomach was thinner by then, and (in Danny's words) just as smooth as a recently-waxed surfboard. He didn't seem to have any trouble surfing as he usually did, despite the drastic differences that should have come to his weight and balance.

By the time he came back that afternoon to start teaching, Dan's hips had grown out, and his trunks had become the bottom of a black bikini, which mostly fit aside from the obvious glaring problem of being on a man. But his upper body—chest up, including the face—was largely unchanged from after lunchtime. While he was talking some of the girls through surfing basics, his voice steadily rose in pitch, and his frame became narrower; his arms and legs slimmed down a little more as well. When he got back to his room that night, he noticed in the mirror that his face had gotten smaller, smoother and overall more feminine, as well as his eyes having changed color to match his hair.

He was about to walk away from the mirror to shower, but then he had a slight odd sensation in his chest. Danny told me that at this point she guessed it was about "time to really turn into a chick," which turned out to be correct. He stared at the mirror and saw the bikini bottom slowly pull the rest of the way flat between his legs, followed by a pair of bumps appearing on his chest. They grew slowly, but she kept watching anyway since it was apparently an interesting process to see, and this was not the kind of thing she'd get to see twice.

Once it finally seemed to be over, Danny tells me, she felt very comfortable with her new form—it was cute and attractive, but not overly so; people wouldn't bother her because of jealousy over it. Apparently that was something Dan had found irritating before, although my interview didn't really go into depth on that. At any rate, after that she went on to shower, and after that she discovered that the bikini bottom had been joined by a matching top, a visor, and a jacket, all of which fit her new appearance exactly. The next morning, this picture was taken:

I asked Danny (although the answer seemed fairly obvious) whether she minded being turned female, or the fairly extreme loss of height. She said, "Nah, dude, y'know. At the end of the day, like, I don't really care what I look like or sound like or any of that stuff. I live to surf, and as long as I can do that, nothin' else matters." After that, she gave a small salute and grabbed her board, running back outside to the beach. I suppose I'm lucky she agreed to an interview at all.

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Entry 3

Whatever doubt I had, in light of the fact that nothing seems to have happened to me yet, that this island changes people...well, it has been dispelled. Late this afternoon, as I was walking along the beach looking for a third person to round out tody's interviews, I discovered another man freshly washed up on the beach, still unconscious. I called out for some help in case she was injured, though of course I was later told nobody ever washes ashore here with injuries, even if they remember having been injured the last time they were conscious. Either way, the first couple of people to show up immediately went to get a photographer, which was apparently the greater priority to them.

From our later interview, I learned that she had been called Iryen, and had worked as an ornithologist. He wasn't quite famous, but his work was extremely accurate and moderately known, at least among people in his own field. Evidently he had been studying some beach birds, when he encountered one he had never seen before. He carefully followed this mysterious bird a short way out into the water, hoping to get a picture or document something about it that might help him either identify it or prove it existed. Just when it seemed like he was close, the bird suddenly turned around and dove straight at him. His last memory before washing ashore was the bird being beak-first, hardly a centimeter from his face.

Iryen woke up, and I offered a greeting and a hand to help him up, which he took. He was still a little disoriented, especially since as soon as he was standing someone came with a camera and took a photo of him. No sooner had that happened than a toucan swooped down and landed directly on his shoulder, as if it were a tame bird.

Immediately Iryen started to visibly change, his frame becoming narrower, his shoulders rounding off. He hadn't been broad-shouldered before, quite scrawny actually, at least his frame hadn't quite been feminine before. He shuddered, according to my later interview due to an odd tingling in his upper body, as his body hair pulled in, his skin smoothing over; his shirt unbuttoned itself and split open. He shrank a little in height and width, enough that his pants fell off, but his underwear stayed, beginning to pull closer against his body. His hips widened, his bottom grew, and his legs became curvier.

His hair grew out suddenly and a ribbon appeared around some of it, jerking his head back somewhat. By now his arms had thinned and shortened enough that his sleeves fell past most of his hands; he held a hand up before his face and it was clear to all that had changed, too. His hands were smaller, with slimmer fingers, and his nails had even grown out a bit. He then let out a surprised "Aah!" in what seemed to be a woman's voice as his chest burst forward all at once into a pair of small breasts, and then an even higher gasp at a strange, sudden pulling sensation from between his legs.

No sooner did Iryen realize she had become a woman than the photographer took another picture of what was now a small, petite girl, who was still too disoriented and confused by the whole situation to do more than give the camera and spectators a wide-eyed stare.

After shaking herself out of it (which caused the bird to fly off of her shoulder and away), she buttoned back up her shirt, her face bright red, and demanded to know what was going on. The three or four people present other than me all started talking at once, but then there was a loud "Yooo, chill!" from off to one side. Danny walked up, having just surfed ashore to all of this racket, and as soon as she understood that someone new had washed ashore she waved the rest of us off and lead the new girl aside to explain everything. Irya later told me that she was close to panicking at first, but Danny took such an easygoing tone that she soon calmed down enough to understand the explanation.

It seems on the way to her new house on this island, Irya encountered a few specimens of the unusual bird she'd seen before. The other inhabitants of this island, myself included, didn't even notice anything unusual about it, but for reasons that apparently even a common bird-watcher would know, it really is a new species. She eagerly told me that it seems to be native to this island, and she can't wait to begin studying it and looking for any other new species here.

I asked her how she felt about her sudden transformation (well, not in those words exactly), and whether she minded being a woman now. She shrugged, saying that it was very strange at first, but by the time Danny had finished explaining our situation she had already begun to feel comfortable with it. She also said that she hoped I would have just as easy a transition, apparently believing the same thing would soon happen to me as well, albeit possibly at a slower pace.

Every person on this island, even a newcomer, seems certain that my own change is inevitable, and I have a hard time coming up with any reason why it wouldn't be at this point. I suppose I should brace for tomorrow, what I might find different about myself when I wake up.