Yaksha looked at her for a minute, and then laughed wildly. "Posiedon! Oh, gods, I had a feeling you were a mer. I have quite a nose for that sort of thing, you know..." As he said this, a small forked tongue darted forward, seeming to test the air before her. "Saltwater, fish, and some other...much more enjoyable scents." He leaned forward, and then waved a hand over himself. "I think you can tell I'm not normal, either."
His eyes seemed to shine with an ethereal power, and he waved a hand over his face, this time. "Does this form please you? Would you perhaps like something a little more rugged?" At this, his hand moved away, revealing a man of about 30, his hair much messier, and a beard crowning his face like a mane. "Or maybe something a bit more learned." At this, a pair of glasses formed on his face, his hair a wonderful brown, and a small book in his head. "Perhaps you like older men." His hair was now salt and pepper, and agelines were obvious in his face, making him look a lovely 40 or so.
"I can be anyone or anything you want, Fara."