The sensation of the Terrigen mists was something that many scholars still had failed to document. Possibly because the sensation felt a little different from person to person, assuming they felt anything at all, or if the pain of being transformed was so vast and traumatic that they forced the memory from their heads. The latter seemed to be the kind of experience Dragul was getting from all this. Normally the stoic he had howled and writhed as the mists filled his very being, making every cell in his formerly average body burn and ache.<br/><br/>And then finally Dragul was able to push free from his tube, panting for gasping for fresh air as he staggered and then fell to his hands and knees. He winced from the tingling effecting his skin, and then he finally let his gaze rest on his hands. Scales, lime green ones running up his entire body! And a tail to boot, long thin and very very dexterous.<br/><br/>Dragul forced himself to stand, trying to regulate his breathing before pushing himself to stand in a formal posture "Well...this is certainly dreadful..." he remarked, continuing to inspect his hands, seeming to be unaware of the other initiates milling about him. "If this was all I received, I think I shall be frightfully furious..." he grumbled.