Posts Tagged scraps

[partim] Blake.

Oct 17

Tags: Blake, Emmett, furry, kangaroos, martens, Nother, scraps, WIP, writing

I just ordered a drink to start with and the waiter left us alone again.

Blake pulled down my menu to look me in the eyes. “Nothing,” he said, “including whether your boyfriend’s Deep American roots show from time to time. You can sit there and look ashamed, or you can remember you don’t have absolute power over me, so anything I do is not yours to be ashamed of.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, “because you don’t think you’re in the wrong yet. But don’t worry about it. I don’t have power over you either, of course.”

This was not the way I’d imagined our first date would go.

[scrap] Scott.

May 3

Tags: alchemy, furry, Scott, scraps, Sextus, tigers, writing

Found this scrap in an old black notebook—don’t think I’ve posted it anywhere before. Might just come into the story later.

On my third week studying body-modification formulas, I knew I was getting close to my second breakthrough. The first one was a warmup, really; just a basic modification of a regeneration potion to grow extra body parts. It takes a couple days to get used to an extra pair of arms, but once you do get the hang of it, working in the lab is so much easier.

I made a couple of other, intimate, changes as well, which I figured Toby would like. But this second project was for Toby himself.

I wanted to ask him to live with me.

But he’s human.

Humans don’t live in this world.

Traditional transformation formulas are kind of random. You can reliably change, say, into a fox, but it won’t be any fox in particular: fur and eye color, height and weight all may vary. Normally this is a feature—several people can use the same potion and not look like a clone army—but I wanted to make Toby an identity for this world, without taking umpteen different shapechanging drinks, which wouldn’t be healthy anyway.

[scrap] Shine.

Apr 6

Tags: furry, humans, Jeff, scraps, Shine, tigers, Turia, writing

Another old scrap from an old notebook—

Thunder woke me up in the middle of the night, and Jan had already gone. I rolled up my pack, figuring I’d get moving before the rain hit. The donut shop at the edge of the park was open all night and usually quiet.

In fact there was nobody there but Jeff behind the counter. He shaded his eyes as I came in—even though I was half asleep, my light was the brightest in the place.

“Hey Shine,” he said, reaching under the counter. ”The usual?”

“Yeah,” I said, taking my seat facing the wall. He brought me a tray with a dozen jelly donuts.

It started raining.

“You know, tiger,” he said, sitting across from me. ”I’m sure you’d have a place of your own by now if you eased up on the food a bit.”

“Man,” I said, “I’ve told ya, you have no idea what it’s like when this light burns down.”

I tore into the donuts.

[scrap] Kohath.

Apr 6

Tags: furry, Kohath, Loukas, Nother, scraps, wolves, writing

Old scrap, from old notebook—

I sat on the curb with Loukas, waiting for the rain to pass. The other wolf twirled the umbrella he held and talked… or rambled, rather, in his way. I didn’t bother to listen–mainly he just goes on to hear himself speak.

[scrap] Taaq.

Mar 18

Tags: furry, Nother, polar bears, scraps, Taaq, WIP, writing

It wasn’t long after I’d gotten up that the message came through—that annoying, steady, high-pitched beep in my head was probably one of the things I hate most about the network these days.

When I was younger, I’d learned that our great-grandparents didn’t have the network in their heads—it was something the Lunars and the Martians brought in from off-world. Back then, I still thought being connected to planets and planets full of aliens and strange sights was a great thing; these times I’d gladly give it up, but I have an obligation now.

The message was a reminder of that obligation. It wasn’t another little human from Earth wanting me interviewed for a school paper—it was an update from the diarists.

Usually it was just a reminder they were still working: “168 hours recorded, ready to process.”

Always “Ready to process.” They’d said I wouldn’t see much in the way of finished product from them during my lifetime—mostly it takes a finished life to tell the big picture, and recording me and my thoughts all the time takes a lot of time to work through anyway.

I turned out my lamp and rolled over on my back to watch what the alien diarists had put together. Off-worlders always just close their eyes to read the network, but the sky of Frontier is a dark enough background for me.

What they’d sent was basically a preface—for all the people who don’t know about Frontier, it was kind of a history or introduction to the world. But of course since it was for off-worlders, it started with the colonization of our world. I’d hoped there’d be more icebear history to survive—but I knew there wouldn’t be, not really. When I’d sat in the stifling hot classrooms in my youth, they’d not had anything before themselves. My mother’d taught me what she could, but she didn’t have anything past her own grandparents. Before that, I guess, we all lived solitary lives on the ocean.

Hah, the classrooms! I hadn’t thought about those in ages. The off-worlders all came, or at least originated, from Earth, a warmer and a brighter world. I don’t think any of them could actually survive on Frontier without all those superheated buildings of theirs, and the bulky clothing—I had to wear some of that, even in the heat—

Scrap – Kohath.

Feb 3

Tags: furry, gaṇakas, Kohath, lunars, Nother, scraps, WIP, wolves, writing

Previous | First

—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.”

Desc – Periont

Jan 25

Tags: descriptions, furry, kangaroos, Periont, scraps, Terce, WIP

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.

Scrap – Aristophaneus

Jan 17

Tags: Aristophaneus, fat, humans, merging, nsfw, scraps, two-body, weird, writing

This was something I sort of started throwing together during Sketch Night week before last. So far it’s more of an exploration than a narrative. Will have to see how it goes.

NSFW (M, two-body) below cut…

Sketch – Moriarty

Jan 13

Tags: art, fat, furry, Moriarty, scraps, tigers

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

First day on the moon.

Jan 10

Tags: furry, Mori, Nother, old, scraps, tigers, WIP, writing

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.

Muke Tever

Art & Writing