Tag Archive | yr9

Excerpt 1 tonight: Noam description (@theladyisugly)

Jun28

Noam is a character in my Year Nine Addergoole pieces, including Birthday Present. This is an excerpt from his description:

He’s even-tempered to the point where people think him phlegmatic, calm, and rarely prone to outbursts; he was a quiet child who became a quiet teenager. This leads to people under- or over-estimating his intelligence; it also leads to them under-estimating his anger when it does flare

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/360275.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.

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.

Iridium Hole

May2

After Silent Song

At some point, Porter mused, he’d learn not to step through doors without looking first. His foot went down, and then down further and, surprised, he tumbled through the door, fell, and landed hard some twenty-plus feet below the doorway. A moment later, an invisible something fell on top of him.

“Ow.” He squirmed, trying not to touch the invisible Librarian on top of him. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate groping and wouldn’t take “I couldn’t see what I was touching” as an excuse. “So, ah.” They were, as far as he could tell, in the bottom of a pit, shaded dark blue and black with sparkles in the walls. The floor under them was cold, hard, and uncomfortable, and Porter was pretty sure he’d sprained his tail. “Did I mention ow? So, um, ma’am, I opened your door.”

A sign appeared a moment later. “Thank you.” He wasn’t sure how she managed to get sarcasm across in her tidy handwriting, but it was clearly there.

“Hey, you didn’t have to fall after me. I can open another door if you’ll point to a wall and, sorry, um, get off of me?”

The weight lifted and an arrow appeared. Looking up, and then back down at the wall, it was clear her idea was “keep going forward.”

“I’m never going to make it to my date on time, am I?” he sighed, and opened a Door.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/331210.html. You can comment here or there.

Kiss-Kisses

Apr5

For Rix_Scaedu‘s commissioned continuation of Damn List (LJ), All You Can Be (LJ), and Detente (LJ)

Addergoole has a landing page here.

Does anyone have any suggestions for Ahouva’s Changes? Or, for that matter, Jovanna’s?
“So.” Aeowyn and Jovanna sat down to either side of Ahouva in English class. “Kendon looks miserable.” Her snakelike friend was showing way too much tooth for comfort.

“More importantly.” Jovanna closed in Ahouva in a flurry of excess skirt. “You look happy. Smiling, for real. Your color’s back. You’re smiling again.”

“Your shoulders aren’t hunched. You’re wearing better clothes.” Aeowyn plucked at the sleeve of Ahouva’s sweater. “I love this colour on you. What, did Kendon not approve?”

“Guyyyys.” She folded her arms across her chest and tried not to smile at them. “So you’re saying I was dumpy, grumpy, lumpy and dull when Kendon was Keeping me?” She kept her voice down out of habit, not wanting him – or his friends – to overhear her talking about him. Even now.

“We’re saying… well, yes. You were miserable, misdrawn, and misadvised. Possibly misfiled as well.” Jovanna patted her shoulder. “But nobody was blaming you, Who. We’re all happy to see you away from him.”

“And happier to see that Basalt isn’t horrible.” Aeowyn had a skill for bluntness. “You’re not bruised, you’re sleeping, and you’re eating. All good signs.”

“I’m not a prize horse,” she muttered, but the smile wouldn’t stay down. “Guys, he’s pretty awesome.”

“That’s not what you were saying at first.” Jovanna sat back and muttered under her breath – some sort of Working. “Are you sure you’re really happy?”

“Stop it, Jo. Tuapeka Intinn Ahouva oro’Basalt a Jovanna cy’Solomon. You just said I looked happier.”

“So what did he do?” Aeowyn leaned over Ahouva to thwap Jovanna. “Friends do not read friends’ minds.”

Ahouva found her cheeks warming. She bit her lip. “He kissed me,” she whispered.

“Kendon did a lot more than…” It was Jo’s turn to hit Aowyn. “I’m just saying.”

“He asked first.”

“Aaaaah.”

“Was it a good one?” Jo looked like she wanted to take notes. “Was it just a kiss, or a kiss-kiss, or…”

“What, we’re categorizing these things scientifically now?”

“It was a kiss-kiss. A really good kiss-kiss-kiss.”

“Three kisses.” Aeowyn’s laugh made Ahouva cringe a little bit. “Oh, relax, I’m happy for you. Do you think you two will move past just kissing, however many kissies you add to it?”

“Welllll…” She really didn’t want to admit she’d been thinking about that almost constantly since the first kiss. “I’d like to. But I’m worried he’s going to, you know…”

From the look on Aeowyn’s face, she did know. From the tch’ Jovanna made, she knew, too. “Who, this is Addergoole. High school rules don’t apply.”

“Exactly. If he’s respecting you enough to make it a choice, I think you’re fine.” Aeowyn didn’t talk about her Keeper. She’d made that abundantly clear – Jovanna still had the bite-mark scars. This was as close as talking about being Kept as she would get, analyzing Ahouva’s relationships. For the first time, Ahouva didn’t really mind.

“He’s really nice, when he relaxes.” She thought about the way he held her, when he wasn’t worrying about her broken windows. “I think he could be a lot of fun… all the way relaxed.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/316567.html. You can comment here or there.

Presently, a story of #Addergoole Yr9 for the (February) Giraffe Call (@Rix_scaedu)

Mar27

For [profile] rix_scaedu‘s commissioned prompt – more of “Birthday Present,” from the December Giraffe Call.

Addergoole has a landing page here

Noam has a sketch here.

He didn’t have any orders! There was nothing holding him from saying anything he wanted! Noam opened his mouth to tell Brenna exactly what he thought of “fun.”

Except, of course, as far as he knew, there wasn’t any way out of Belonging to someone except having them let you go. He closed his mouth again. Pissing her off was probably not what he wanted to do. He tugged at the ribbons a little more, though, just on principle.

Brenna’s face fell. “You don’t want to be here.”

Shit. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re trying to get away.”

“I’m trying to get untied. Trying to get away would involve more backing towards the door and fumbling with the doorknob.” He gave her his best smile. “I’m not going to lie to you, this wasn’t my idea. Hera caught me in the halls. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think dating you would be a good idea.” Dating, please. Noam was pretty sure he could handle dating.

She touched his pectoral lightly, as if worried it would burn her. When it didn’t light on fire, she set her hand, palm-down, across his chest. “You never said anything.”

“Neither did you. I figured you weren’t interested.”

“Oh.” She looked down at their toes. At her Masked toes, he noted, even here in her bedroom, and his still in shoes. “Oh.”

He kept smiling at her. Smiling seemed good. Her touch seemed very good. “You know, if you let me go, we could date. I’d like that a lot.”

She frowned. “You’re just saying that so I’ll let you go.”

“Well, I’m hoping you’ll let me go, yeah, but I would like dating you, too.” Gods, please?

She bit her lip and shook her head. She hadn’t Masked her teeth. They were very very sharp. “Nobody stays around me long if they have a choice.”

She wasn’t going to let him go, was she? He might as well make the best of it. Noam smiled for her, hoping it wasn’t too fake-looking (Again. He was going to have to spend XP on charisma and bluffing). “Well, I’m yours.”

“You are,” she agreed. “For a while, at least. It’s not forever.”

“Well, if I had to be Owned by someone…” which he’d been doing such a good job of avoiding, thank you, “I’m glad it was you.” He gave the ribbon around his wrists a little tug. He could probably undo it now. Maybe he should wait and let her untie it instead. “What do you think about it?”

“I think…” She looked him over hesitantly, sidelong, uncertainly. “I think you’re mine?”

“Okay.” It was a starting point, at least. “And what do you want to do with me?”

She tugged on the ribbon around his neck. “Unwrap you…” Her shy look up at him was heart-rending. “If that’s okay?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/309630.html. You can comment here or there.