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At The Zoo

Jul14

For ankewehner‘s prompt

Yngvi (Vi), Aelgifu (Ayla) and Ioanna (Io) are characters in Addergoole

Summer between Years Six and Seven.

The zoo had seemed like a good idea for the three of them. Io’s oldest, Cecily, was just old enough to enjoy it, and Cecily was young enough to enjoy the stroller ride. It seemed safe, normal – a human thing to do.

They needed more human things to do; after another year underground, they needed to remember how to act normal. Io had been on a campaign of normalcy since they left for the summer, but after that incident at the beach, she thought maybe a smaller group of humanity might be safer. (For the humans, at least. Who knew Yngvi could punch that hard?)

And here they were, standing in front of the antelopes, Vi staring down the biggest bull. Even though they were all Masked, even though Vi’s face was human under the Mask, Io swore she could see his nostrils widening.

And then Ayla punched him in the arm. “Vi, it’s an animal. It’s an antelope.“

Ynvgi blushed, and dropped his head. Picturing his horns – long, curling horns, much like smaller versions of the Kudu antelope in front of them – Io thought they must almost be scraping the fence. “Sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

“You don’t see me snorting at them.”

Yngvi frowned, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I don’t know. Maybe if we met any jackalopes…”

Io snorted at the two of them. “Face if, Vi, every once in a while you act like a male. Even if you’re acting like a male bovid.”

“Wonderful. Now I’m a cow.” Vi rolled his eyes in molodramatic disdain. “Fine, let’s go on to the big cats. That shouldn’t cause a problem for any of us.”

Io squirmed, remembering the last time she encountered a mountain lion. “Ah, about that…”

Next time they were going to something safe. Like a cave.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/371126.html. You can comment here or there.

Rough Description, Miryam

Jun30

Miryam has a Meez!

http://www.nndb.com/people/543/000101240/
http://www.hlisted.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/amerie.jpg(face shape)
http://myproductjunkie.blogspot.com/2009/01/let-out-your-curls.html (hair)

Miryam is a petite girl, barely topping 5 foot tall, with full lips and a generous smile. She generally wears the corkscrew curls of her hair pulled back from her face and down to her shoulder blades in the back.

She’s a buxom, hippy girl, with a body shape sometimes described as coke-bottle: full, high breasts, very narrow waist, and full hips.

Her wings are similar to a luna moth’s:
http://storage.wildobs.com/rangerous/mediums/DSCN3988.JPG
(warning: moth picture); she has two antennae (also green), similar to this or this (warning: moth picture on the second link) The antennae come out over her ears, near the curve of her skull

She tends to wear halter-necked or very-low-backed shirts to accommodate the wings, and short skirts because she likes them: a dress like this or a skirt like this with a top like this.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/362761.html. You can comment here or there.

Wylie, More description

Jun30

Full description, including personality here

Wylie is a middling-heighted boy (5’9”) with middling-brown hair and a middling build, with average grades and an average athletic ability. On paper, he is an entirely ordinary fifteen-year-old boy.

Physically, he’s pale-skinned and freckles, with blue eyes and pouty lips (not that he pouts much), still out-growing his baby fat in face and stomach, and tends towards plain t-shirts and loose-fitting jeans, or, when his mother has been fussing, plain button-down shirts and loose-fitting khakis. If he has to engage in a sport, he prefers lacrosse.

http://www.canstockphoto.com/models/model-19271

He has coyote ears in place of his human ears, in generally the same position as his human ears were, and a fluffy coyote tail http://www.allwildlifecontrol.com/images/coyote-3.jpg.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/362635.html. You can comment here or there.

Excerpt 4 tonight: from Addergoole: Year 9 (the serial)

Jun28

From my upcoming serial, Addergoole: Year Nine (52 Weeks, 52 Stories).

Some of them liked to pretend they didn’t. Some tried to say it was all the students’ choice, and they mustn’t do anything at all to influence it, even think about it. Some said let nature take its course.

Shira had been a hunter, a trapper, long before she’d been a teacher.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/361183.html. You can comment here or there.

Addergoole Year Nine Character Profile: Kheper

Jun8

Addergoole Year Nine won the reader poll for “Next Year’s serial;” the story proper will begin the first full week of September.

In the meantime, please enjoy the third of twenty-something character profiles: Kheper.

Kheper
b. March 15, 1987

Kheper is fiery, stubborn, strong, and hardworking, a handsome dark-haired man with a resemblance to Disney’s Aladdin. His Change involves chitin armor, beetle wings, and claws, as well as scarab horns.

His mother, Tanith, is an Egyptian student-visa to the US. Her Name translates to Brings the Pain and her Change is draconic, with arm-wings that are long and fluttery and head-spikes that are quite intimidating. She is iridescent orange in color, at least in her scales and wings.

She was a studious, serious student and matured into a strong, serious woman who demands the very best of everyone around her.

His father, Jibril, is a far-older Arabic immigrant to the United States. He has a similar change to his son, an insect Change with chitin armor that resembles small plates of jointed armor, with a set of horns resembling an ancient samuri helmet. He takes his responsibilities seriously, but that is about all he takes seriously. His Name translates to Withstands.

Jibril was held against his will by a female Nedetakaei Hunter for some time immediately before joining Regine’s project, resulting in

Spoiler
[collapse]
.

Kheper is not the first child either provided to the project, but when conceiving him, they fell in love and were married soon afterwards. They have two other children, who will come to the school in later years.

Kheper was raised by both parents, in an affluent Virginia suburb of Washington, D.C. He grew up with his mother pressuring him to strive to the highest summits he could reach, his father driving home the importance of responsibility, and both expecting him to, perhaps, be a bit more adult than he was ready for.

He simultaneously rebelled against this mindset and took it in, becoming a studious boy in some classes and an absolute goof-off in others, dependant on his respect, or lack therof, for the teacher and, to a lesser extent, the season.

He likes sun, and likes to be outdoors during the summer months quite a bit. He spends more time than is good for his studies playing hooky as soon as the weather warms up, and takes winter with more than a little bit of grumbling.

When he decides someone is “his person,” nothing short of a complete and utter betrayal will change his mind.

He has expensive tastes, and already knows good wine and good food. His parents did manage to instill that at an early age.

Physical, he is a slight, tall young man. He’s 5’7” as he enters Addergoole and will gain another three inches in his first year, another inch each year afterwards. He isn’t prone to athletic activities that put on muscle, although he was learning skateboarding and brings his ‘board to school with him.

He has black hair that he keeps shaggy and shoulder-length because it offends his mother, chocolate brown eyes, and slightly-too-shaggy eyebrows. His skin starts out a deep brown, summer-sun baked.

Because his mother told him he was coming to an exclusive prep school, his wardrobe consists primarily of prep-school clothes: polo shirts, button-downs, khakis. He even has two shirts with the Addergoole crest on them. He prefers light colored clothing, and almost everything he owns fits in that category. If dressing “down,” he wears tailored jeans and fitted T-shirts.

Math and history are his least-good classes, because he didn’t get along with those teachers back home. Science is his best.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/351444.html. You can comment here or there.

Standard Addergoole First-few-weeks timeline

Jun2

Regine likes things to be tidy and does them almost the same way every year. 🙂

(* week before first sunday: old students arrive)
* First Sunday: New Students arrive
* First Monday: Classes begin
* First Friday (probably lunch): the “reveal” of the Changes. Many students don’t drop Mask now, however.
* First Saturday: first dance. In theory, every second saturday after that
* Second Thursday: theoretical mentor-choosing deadline
* Second Saturday: Hell Night
* Third Monday: Magic testing, magic classes begin
* Magic classes switch off every 2 weeks.

Anything I’m missing?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/349867.html. You can comment here or there.

Being the Monster

May30

For rix_scaedu‘s Commissioned continuation.

Addergoole has a landing pagehere.

After Cursed.

Barypos ended. Ended, in a way he had never imagined possible, Ended, Name and name and soul and memories. He ended in a twist of pain and a gut-punch, air lost, while the world burned around him.

He dreamt of death, of spears, of the lamentations and screams of women following him through the years. He dreamt of blood and pain, and of fire, and more fire, and more.

When he awoke, Barypos was gone. He woke to consciousness of a sort, remembering nothing but pain and fire.

Slowly, he stood, and brushed the sand off of his skin. White skin, skin like a dead thing, rippled with muscle and lined with scars that were, as he watched, vanishing into the whiteness. He looked around; sand, and the long-gone remains of buildings. To the north, sand, to the east, sand. To the south, sand, and to the west, sand and the sun.

That was a direction, at least. Not knowing what else to do, he walked into the sun.

A caravan found him, some endless time later, coated in dust and parched. “Where do you come from?” they asked, and he could not tell them. They gave him water, and asked his name.

“Buh-” was all he could remember, so Buh he became, for the few moments before the women brushed the sand off of him, before the men saw what he was.

“Monster,” the youngest woman screamed. “Beast, corpse-eater!”

Those who had welcomed and rescued him drove him off again, screaming monster, beast, creature! and, confused, Buh ran off into the dessert.

Baram woke sweating and swearing and reached across the bed for the girl. There was a girl there. That was the deal; there was always a girl there.

The girl pressed against him in her sleep, stroking his back, her hands firm. Viatrix. Vi’s hands were the strongest. Like Etheldreda. Like Joan.

The memories were beginning to sneak back in, around the edges, when he was sleeping or nearly so, when one of the girls was holding him, and, sometimes and most painfully, when he was holding one of the children. Ethldreda, who had been able to stand him the longest of anyone before these girls, who had stayed with him when the torches lit, stayed with him until the very end. Joan… Joan who had gritted her teeth and tried.

That wasn’t him. That was some other guy, some monster in his nightmares.

He looked down at his body, at the slabs of muscle, at the pale, corpse-like skin. This didn’t change. He died and was born again, died and died and died again, and this returned, white and death-looking. Monstrous.

“I’m here,” Via whispered in his ear, and he clutched her closer. He had never understood what had brought them to show up on his doorstep, Jaelie and then Via and Alkyone, nor what, aside from his protection, drove them to stay, but he knew their warmth and their – he wouldn’t call it love. Nobody could love him. He’d never Kept anyone, that he could recall, to not force the imitation of affection – their friendship seemed to push back the dark.

He knew he would die again. But until that death came, he could be their monster.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/349081.html. You can comment here or there.

Addergoole Year Nine Character Profile: Timora

May30

Addergoole Year Nine won the reader poll for “Next Year’s serial;” the story proper will begin the first full week of September.

In the meantime, please enjoy the second of twenty-something character profiles: Timora.

Timora is a shy, uncertain girl who reached her height (5 foot 7 inches) quickly and the rest of her growth more slowly, making her awkward and uncertain around her classmates. Added to a generally retiring nature – in a family full of loud and boisterous people, she has always been the quiet one – this generally led people to misunderstand her name as a pun for “timid.”

As a child, she was fond of books, animals, and farming, with a propensity for spending a good deal of time in the local dairy and goat farmers’ barns, helping out or getting in the way. She was not, perhaps surprisingly, much into horse fantasy, although she did love the Narnian centaurs, preferring the fauns, dryads, naiads, and such.

Her introversion, her choice of reading material, and her preference for outdoor life rather than playing games or going to the mall, all added up to her being a rather ignored, unpopular child in school. For many years, she hardly noticed, until boys started becoming interesting to her.

She spent her last two years of high school before Addergoole in a state of embarrassed frustration, uncertain how to deal with boys, what she was supposed to say, or why the romance-novel-inspired dresses and skirts she loved so much were suddenly giggle-worthy and inappropriate. A more attentive mother may have been able to put her on the right path, but Douglass Dark-Water is not known for being all that involved in her children’s lives.

Timora is a slender, willowy, coltish girl with long sandy brown hair that tends to wave and curl. She has a pointed chin and hazel eyes, and wouldn’t know what to do with make-up if somebody gave her step-by-step directions. She wears her hair loose, or with the front braided back.

Her brother, Smitty, tried to tell her about Addergoole. He was hampered by first the geas, second by the fact that his experiences at the school were some of the mildest around, and third by their six-year age gap and his long absence from home during Timora’s formative years. She is left understanding that there is a family legacy relating to the school, and that there are animals to spend time with there.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/348699.html. You can comment here or there.

Addergoole Year Nine Character Profile: Wylie

May28

Addergoole Year Nine won the reader poll for “Next Year’s serial;” the story proper will begin the first full week of September.

In the meantime, please enjoy the first of twenty-something character profiles: Wylie.

b. August 10, 1988

Wylie is a middling-heighted boy (5’9”) with middling-brown hair and a middling build, with average grades and an average athletic ability. On paper, he is an entirely ordinary fifteen-year-old boy.

His blue eyes set him apart when one is looking at him; his propensity for puzzles and science set him apart in classes; his utter inability to pay attention to anything for more than five minutes set him apart (or, rather, push him aside) for most of his teachers. He doesn’t like reading but soaks up information when he does, for whatever brief period he can remain interested; he watches TV voraciously and soaks up information, generally while getting half-way through some other project.

His foster-mother, who he believes to be his real mother, and her husband, who he believes to be his father, have long since despaired of his finishing anything; mom Page keeps Legos around by the cubic yard to keep Wylie’s hands occupied (She packed a box of them in his luggage for Addergoole). Father Cedric has found that putting a notepad and pencil in reach of their son’s hands will sometimes generate fascinating things and other times generate complete crap; the rare nightmare-monster drawing is burned before Wylie notices what he’s done.

His best subjects are math and science; he’s rubbish at history and can’t sit through more than five minutes of English without getting distracted, although he likes old historical fantasy (Beowulf, for example, the worse the monster the better).

Physically, he’s pale-skinned and freckles, with pouty lips (not that he pouts much), still out-growing his baby fat in face and stomach, and tends towards plain t-shirts and loose-fitting jeans, or, when Page has been fussing, plain button-down shirts and loose-fitting khakis. If he has to engage in a sport, he prefers lacrosse.

His parents have told him that Addergoole is a school for “gifted” children, by which he believes they mean “screwed up.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/347876.html. You can comment here or there.

Touch

May28

For [personal profile] avia‘s request. Kendra’s Change is mouse-girl; Sylvanus’s is primatey.

“Lay down,” Kendra suggested, her hands on Sylvanus’s shoulders urging him towards the bed. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“Hurt? No.” His voice had Changed with the rest of him, getting a bit higher-pitched [something something] and, right now, a bit panicked. Kendra liked it, though. He was nice and soft. “But, Kennie, I look funny.”

“You look wonderful.” She sat down next to him on the bed and stroked the light fur of his chest.

“I look like a monkey.”

“And I look like a mouse. That’s the norm, for Addergoole.” She let her hands drift to his ears, tracing the enlarged lobes. Cautiously, he returned the favor, brushing his hand against the outside of her ears.

“But you look adorable. Cute. I look…”

“I wonder how prehensile your tail is? Mine doesn’t do much, but yours, given the Change…” She pushed on his shoulder, urging him to roll over. “Your hands and feet are a bit bigger, too.”

“That’s not all that’s bigger.” His smile was both lewd and uncertain. Kendra responded by kissing him, learning the feel of his new lips. Only then did he roll over, with a reluctant sound. “Kennie…?”

“I like the tail.” She flipped hers into his hand and began stroking the new lines of his tail, brown-furred and soft. “I like this look on you.”

“Well… good?” His hand on her tail was cautious, almost tickling. “I mean, considering.”

She kept up the slow stroking of his new Changed parts. She knew it helped, to feel the touch on things that hadn’t existed before. “Good,” she agreed. “Considering.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/347642.html. You can comment here or there.