Posts Tagged furry

Scrap – Kohath.

Feb 3

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—First things first—to get away from the cold. I packed up stuff for the day—another sandwich, a book of Dickinson, my computer,—and took a bus to city center.

The bus was empty at this hour of morning; it was still city night.

I needed to be around people, though—the condition I was in, whatever it was, was no condition to be alone in.

Someone had set up a sort of pavilion in the park, and I headed towards it.

About half a dozen people were inside, mostly lunars, and they were frying up a lot of breakfast.

“What’s the occasion?” I said, walking up. A few that hadn’t seen me approaching looked up, and the tallest waved me over.

“We’re gaṇakas. Have you heard of us? We’re semi-secret.”

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Fisting II

Feb 2

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NSFW (M/M, fisting) below cut… »

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Frostbite – B&W

Feb 1

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Frostbite

Probably the finished pencil work, starting on color and such next.

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Desc – Periont

Jan 25

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One of my projects is to have comprehensive references to each of my characters — body-wise, personality-wise, history-wise, and so forth. Here’s the scrap I have so far on our traveller Periont.

Body—
His adult height is about five foot seven, ears excluded. He is of a moderate build, slightly tending towards lean and muscular, and weighs in at about one hundred sixty pounds, tail excluded.

Age—
Periont around the time of his story is a νεανίσκος somewhere in his lower- to mid-twenties. This is apparent from looking at him—his features are mature enough that he is certainly no longer a teenager, and while the salt-and-pepper fur he has in places might give an initial impression of aging, he is otherwise youthful enough that he couldn’t pass for over thirty.

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Sketch – Moriarty

Jan 13

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Drawn at Sketch Night on Saturday. I needs to work on my impromptu sketching skills.

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First day on the moon.

Jan 10

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More ancient scraps. Most of the notebook I’ve been copying stuff out of is undated, but a poem on the ending page of this that I posted to LiveJournal around the time I wrote it gives this a terminus ante quem of September 29, 2005.

1 Aug
The trip to the moon was short and uneventful. I knew it would be—it’s just a routine shuttle, after all. Still, I was hoping for something special for my first time off the planet.

A circle of lunar humans off the ’port staff waited to greet us as we came out the gate. Most of them wielded video recorders in case any of the terrestrials wanted to say anything stupid. Souvenir discs of My First Words on the Moon go for €10.50. Nobody wanted to announce any giant leaps for Podunk today—all the other passengers were either lunars coming home or tired businessmen who’ve probably done the trip a thousand times. Me, of course, you’d never find doing anything so touristy.

The welcome committee soon dispersed after seeing no one really cared about being welcomed. I passed through the crowds and bound up the stairs to baggage claim. My muscles were used to hefting around a body six times heavier than I now weighed. I figured I’d better enjoy it while I could—I knew I’d be paying for it trying to lug around my pudge when I went home for the summer.

I got my bags and found my way outside. The dome above was darkened, indicating the fiction that was the lunar city’s night.

Right. I pulled my computer out of my pocket, uncrumpled it, and called up local time. Quarter to ten… fifteen minutes until there wouldn’t be anybody at the college to let me in. I pulled up gmaps and a compass and got directed to a bus line that went straight there.

The bus was empty. I stood and watched the city go by. Unlike the inside of the bus,… the city for the most part seemed clean and new.

I reached the university gates just a few minutes before closing. The gate guard pointed me to the dormitory, and I rushed to get in just before the doors locked.

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Scrap – Mori

Jan 6

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This is from an old notebook I’m in the middle of transcribing. In Nother, an astrode is a device similar to an orrery which allows for teleportation based on astrological principles.

Moriarty ascended the stairs of the ruined apartment. The thick air did nothing to obscure the golden light blazing from the attic room. He shaded his eyes as the room entered his view, and there as he had dreaded, stood the broken astrode.

—”How’m I sposta fix this?”

That doesn’t work.

I could barely see for the brightness, and my footpaws were damp and sticky from the pool of sunshine I was standing in.

How ’bout I start with this—

I ran back downstairs to find a pitcher. My footprints glowed in the dust. “Frotz,” I said.

I came back up and scooped up the most part of the sunshine. It was sticky and puddled together on its own, like mercury. The pitcher was about half-full when I was done.

I set it on the stand at the angle left by the tracks in the floor.

The band of planetary signs along the wall lit up.

“Oh crap,” I said.

I didn’t recognize any of the signs.

There were only five, laid out thus:

I set up the stand with the moon that had fallen over, and crossed my fingers. Only one way out, and that by trying… I pulled the dusty globe and it began to reflect the beam directed from the pitcher of sunshine. The other moon had quite shattered, and I was thus left with three choices. , I thought, bad sign. The was too complex to— could be a distorted Mars…

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Blake.

Jan 5

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He tried to wave a waiter over, with no luck.

“Ah well,” he said, “Gives me some time to dry off. Have I ever shown you my sister’s music?”

“You have a sister?”

“Yeah, she’s beautiful, her name’s Island.” He reached in his pockets. “I have a clip of her singing, one moment…” He pulled out a phone, which was kind of damp-looking, but he still managed to get it turned on.

The hologram he pulled up was indeed of a beautiful red kangaroo, dressed in gray and black and white, standing in front of a microphone. A few puffs of smoke came up around her as she began to sing:

“When Jesus wept, the falling tear
in mercy flowed beyond all bound;
when Jesus groaned, a trembling fear
shook all the guilty world around—”

The smoke was joined by a spurt of blue sparks, and the phone went dead.

Blake shut his eyes.

“That was amazing,” said a human at a table next to us. “I didn’t catch it in time, though—who is she? I’d love to download her.”

“Her name’s Darker Island,” Blake said. “But you won’t find her, she’s L & L. You’d have to go to Blantyre.”

“A Luddite, eh? I don’t even know where Blantyre is.”

Blake didn’t answer. He picked up the phone and gave it a couple of smacks. It didn’t respond.

“L & L?” I said. “That’s awesome.” The Live and Local movement avoided globalization and the Net, creating their own microcultures instead. “She must be really close with you, to have let you make a recording.”

“Yeah,” he said. “She was.”

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Library updates

Jan 5

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Added Arky’s offer 2 (NSFW) to the library page.

(This was posted to FA earlier as Scott the Alchemist 3, but apparently I hadn’t titled 1 and 2 that way here.)

Also removed the Ralph stories from the ‘clean’ page.  They’re not porn, but they do talk about shenanigans, so.   Really I’m kind of on the fence about them—both the chapters I’ve posted so far were written with more explicitness than the published versions.  I cut that stuff out because their story didn’t seem to be about the sex.  But in another sense it feels weird to gloss over it.   I’ll probably post a more porny ‘director’s cut’ in the future.

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Scrap – Silk Rail

Jan 4

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So as to avoid suspicion, I stayed the night at an inn, instead of fleeing immediately. I got up at dawn, paid my bill, and rode out of town before the alarm was raised. I figured they’d be holding up any ships from going downriver, so I headed for Sepouri to take a ship back to Karkedon.

I hoped to make it before anyone thought of closing the port—but I didn’t rush, because nothing makes people ask questions like seeing a wolf in a hurry.

I made it to the harbor some time after noon.

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