A Stable Relationship

Moderators: MrFireDragon, PrettyPrincess, Bookworm, starkruzr, Wapsi

Warrl
Posts: 1353
Joined: Sat Jul 20, 2013 10:44 pm

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by Warrl » Sun Jun 05, 2016 6:41 pm

Thanks to Al for advising a touch-up on one paragraph


The drive out to the Alexander estate with Atsali in the passenger seat was interesting. Rowdy had talked about his family often, but Dawn had no faces to attach the stories to. Atsali gave better physical descriptions and another perspective - that of someone coming into the family.

Seen from the siren's perspective, her family had been built backward. First a pair of sisters, then a mother, then a father with his relatives, and finally a grandfather - the latter two stages in close succession. Dawn thought that this might result in very confused relationships, but she wasn't sure: broken and partial families were not common in Hyde Park, and remarriages - when they happened - were to someone the children of the earlier marriage had known for years.

"Oh, no," Atsali said. "The only one having a hard time adjusting is Grampa Al. And I think it's because he hasn't had a family for, like, decades. Don't take that wrong, he's nice, I think he loves everybody, and he lets Castela get away with a lot, but he still isn't really used to being around so many people. Sometime he takes what other people say too seriously. It didn't help that he and Grandma met because of the hit-list debacle that led up to the Pillsbury slaughter." She shuddered. "And he was one of the leaders of organizing and training our defense, so he was under a lot of stress the whole time. Grandma talks once in a while about sending him on a vacation - I dunno if she's serious but it sounds like a good idea to me."

"Back up. Hit-list debacle? I never heard that part."

"Oh, then. It started with Justin - he's a cop - being in a shootout with a drug gang and killing one of the top guys in it. THE top guy decided to make an example, and put out a list of bounties for the murder of Justin and all his friends and their friends. Thirty or forty people. Mom's a friend of Shelly, who was his fiancée - the Pillsbury incident was their wedding - and that put her, me, and Castela on the list. I'm not sure just how Al was connected, but he was on there too. Eventually someone convinced the drug boss to withdraw the list, but by the time that happened and word got out on the street another problem had come up, and that led to Pillsbury."

"How many people got killed before the list was withdrawn?"

"Nobody on the list. Al's partner Greg was the only one even injured. Lots of thugs got busted up though. Al and Greg killed one and captured another, Greg killed the one who shot him, and I... and quite a lot of people who went after Shelly's dad ended up either in the hospital or in some convenient lake - there are lots of them."

"'And I...' - you killed one?"

"No. Almost. He attacked me with a knife. He... he... surgeries... "

"You were uninjured? Physically, that is - I think I see scars in your mind. It bothers you. A lot. I think you have heard this already, but you did nothing wrong. You went feral?"

"Just my leg muscles. I kicked him three times. The first one would have been enough."

"In that kind of situation, you do not stop until you know he is no longer a threat, whether that's because he is down disarmed and not moving or because you have some distance from him and can get away safely. Three kicks seems reasonable. Have you had any other fights where you hurt someone?"

"I knocked my girlfriend unconscious. She was in bear-form, very large bear-form, and I didn't realize it wasn't a wild bear next to some of my other friends. But I guess I didn't hurt her too badly, and she forgave me."

"Any martial arts training?"

"Just a little, in school. It's all about hitting harder. I don't think I need to hit harder."

"Was this from the same teacher who put you on the field-hockey team?" There was definitely a disapproving tone to the question.

"Yeah, it was."

"Idiocy! You and I are deadly weapons. I can shatter a man's skull and crush his brain with one hoof. You nearly killed that thug without really trying. Why teach us how to do more damage? Instead, would you like to learn how to do less, yet still protect yourself?"

"Um, yeah - doing less sounds good."

"Martial-arts training, for us, should be about how to reliably not kill in situations like that - to apply enough force and control to protect ourselves and end a fight, but not so much more that we do unnecessary damage."

"Who told you that?"

"A martial-arts instructor at the University of Vermont; one semester was mandatory for paranormal freshmen, and I took a second semester. But I am not good enough to teach - for exercise I prefer running. If you want lessons and your parents agree, someone will have to find a suitable dojo."

"You don't have time to teach anyway; Rowdy says med school keeps you busy and tired."

"It certainly does."

"How busy are you?"

"My normal day is classes from 8:00 to 5:30 with an hour break to eat with one hand and hold a textbook with the other, and then another four or five hours studying. Over the weekend I spend at least another sixteen hours studying, and I have to do laundry and shopping and housekeeping. I squeeze dating your uncle in when I can. Does he complain about that?"

"Yes, a bit, but I think he admires you for it too. Oh, here's the driveway. And... I'll think about martial arts. What you said sounds backward at first but it makes sense."

Edit: minor tweak to fix Dawn's speech idiosyncracy.
Last edited by Warrl on Mon Jun 06, 2016 1:24 am, edited 1 time in total.

FreeFlier
Posts: 1910
Joined: Mon Oct 26, 2015 11:33 pm
Location: Land of the webbed feet

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by FreeFlier » Sun Jun 05, 2016 7:32 pm

I'd not thought of it that way, but correct force level is part of martial arts training. It's just not a part that most americans need training in . . . most need training to hit harder, so the lesser force is usually taught at higher levels.


And, BTW, a tea-ball is not the best way to brew tea . . . loose in the cup or pot and strain the leaves out is better. The more room the leaf has to move, the better.

But straining is a bit inconvenient, so I use a Finum Brewing Basket L, the largest that will fit in my cup.

Disposable filters - aka teabags - are useful for stronger flavors that tend to carry over between cups. I've not used Finum brand, but the others work well.

--FreeFlier

User avatar
jwhouk
Posts: 5445
Joined: Wed Aug 01, 2012 7:58 am
Location: The Valley of the Sun, Arizona
Contact:

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by jwhouk » Sun Jun 05, 2016 9:04 pm

Madame Phix would disagree with you.

I should know; she really liked my tea service set.
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin

Warrl
Posts: 1353
Joined: Sat Jul 20, 2013 10:44 pm

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by Warrl » Mon Jun 06, 2016 1:01 am

And, BTW, a tea-ball is not the best way to brew tea . . . loose in the cup or pot and strain the leaves out is better. The more room the leaf has to move, the better.

Tina is that good - she can make a perfect cup of pu-erh tea, consistently, while using a (large) tea ball. I've been drinking pu-erh for I think fifteen years, and I have gotten that perfect cup ONCE. I don't use a tea ball (except a large one when traveling), I use a metal basket.

Good pu-erhs are dated, like good wines, and are NOT sealed in airtight packaging; they need to age. A couple months ago I spent about $50 at my favorite tea shop on a pair of 250-gram bricks from 2008 - which should last me a year and change - and a 100-gram brick of a different variety from 2009. Haven't tried the latter yet. All are wrapped in paper. A couple years ago at a different shop I found a plastic-wrapped undated 250-gram brick for a bit under half the price I pay for the paper-wrapped ones of the same size, and decided it was worth a try. It wasn't.

Disposable filters - aka teabags - are useful for stronger flavors that tend to carry over between cups.

You'd need a stronger flavor to mask the taste of the surgical dressings. Multiple tea balls/baskets would be a better idea. A good black pu-erh has plenty of flavor, but you won't find it in tea bags - just like you won't find filet mignon in a Happy Meal.

Okay, yeah, I'm a bit of a tea snob.

(However, don't bother looking for wolf-apple tea. The flowers, leaves, and bark are poisonous to humans. The fruit is not good either unless it's allowed to fully ripen. Once it's ripe lots of things can eat it, including humans and the critters that give the plant its name in several languages: maned wolves. Which aren't exactly wolves.)

FreeFlier
Posts: 1910
Joined: Mon Oct 26, 2015 11:33 pm
Location: Land of the webbed feet

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by FreeFlier » Mon Jun 06, 2016 1:23 am

Warrl wrote:
And, BTW, a tea-ball is not the best way to brew tea . . . loose in the cup or pot and strain the leaves out is better. The more room the leaf has to move, the better.
Tina is that good - she can make a perfect cup of pu-erh tea, consistently, while using a (large) tea ball. I've been drinking pu-erh for I think fifteen years, and I have gotten that perfect cup ONCE. I don't use a tea ball (except a large one when traveling), I use a metal basket.

Good pu-erhs are dated, like good wines, and are NOT sealed in airtight packaging; they need to age. A couple months ago I spent about $50 at my favorite tea shop on a pair of 250-gram bricks from 2008 - which should last me a year and change - and a 100-gram brick of a different variety from 2009. Haven't tried the latter yet. All are wrapped in paper. A couple years ago at a different shop I found a plastic-wrapped undated 250-gram brick for a bit under half the price I pay for the paper-wrapped ones of the same size, and decided it was worth a try. It wasn't.

I'm drinking a 2006 . . . I think it was a half-kilo cake. I don't drink it all the time, I have about 20 I drink regularly, mostly flavored black.

A guy I knew paid $200 for about 25g of a 100-year-old pu-erh . . . he said it was worth doing once.

Warrl wrote:
Disposable filters - aka teabags - are useful for stronger flavors that tend to carry over between cups.

You'd need a stronger flavor to mask the taste of the surgical dressings. Multiple tea balls/baskets would be a better idea. A good black pu-erh has plenty of flavor, but you won't find it in tea bags - just like you won't find filet mignon in a Happy Meal.

I'm talking about the plain bags that you put your own tea into, not the premade things filled with dryer sweepings. I've never noticed a flavor from those, but I tend to prefer strong teas anyway.

Warrl wrote:Okay, yeah, I'm a bit of a tea snob.

(However, don't bother looking for wolf-apple tea. The flowers, leaves, and bark are poisonous to humans. The fruit is not good either unless it's allowed to fully ripen. Once it's ripe lots of things can eat it, including humans and the critters that give the plant its name in several languages: maned wolves. Which aren't exactly wolves.)
The maned wolf is actually a south american fox . . . I don't remember which family.

--FreeFlier

Warrl
Posts: 1353
Joined: Sat Jul 20, 2013 10:44 pm

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by Warrl » Mon Jun 06, 2016 2:33 am

The maned wolf is actually a south american fox . . . I don't remember which family.

None, according to what I'm finding. There's some dispute about the order of things, but there were apparently three relevant major splits in the canid family tree. One took either wolf-like canids or Old World foxes, one or the other depending on which version of the tree you're looking at, away from {everything else}; the next took an ancestor of the maned wolf away from {everything else}; and the third took South American foxes away from {everything else}. In either version, maned wolves are equally closely related to South American foxes and another large group that are definitely not South American foxes.

(There were several other splits, of course. The first, even before any of the above three, took the common ancestor of genus Urocyon, which consists only of two extant North American fox species, away from {everything else}; both major versions of the tree agree on that. Those two species are no more closely related to other foxes - Old World or South American - than they are to wolves or jackals.)

FreeFlier
Posts: 1910
Joined: Mon Oct 26, 2015 11:33 pm
Location: Land of the webbed feet

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by FreeFlier » Mon Jun 06, 2016 8:24 am

Warrl wrote:
The maned wolf is actually a south american fox . . . I don't remember which family.

None, according to what I'm finding. There's some dispute about the order of things, but there were apparently three relevant major splits in the canid family tree. One took either wolf-like canids or Old World foxes, one or the other depending on which version of the tree you're looking at, away from {everything else}; the next took an ancestor of the maned wolf away from {everything else}; and the third took South American foxes away from {everything else}. In either version, maned wolves are equally closely related to South American foxes and another large group that are definitely not South American foxes.

(There were several other splits, of course. The first, even before any of the above three, took the common ancestor of genus Urocyon, which consists only of two extant North American fox species, away from {everything else}; both major versions of the tree agree on that. Those two species are no more closely related to other foxes - Old World or South American - than they are to wolves or jackals.)
IIRC, when I last looked it was classed that way. Scientific classifications have been changing constantly.

--FreeFlier
Last edited by FreeFlier on Thu Jun 09, 2016 9:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Warrl
Posts: 1353
Joined: Sat Jul 20, 2013 10:44 pm

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by Warrl » Thu Jun 09, 2016 8:13 pm

On the advice of the voice over the intercom at the gate, Atsali guided Dawn behind the mansion to the centaur quarters - which looked like an old, but large and well-maintained, carriage-house and stable. As they opened their doors, a well-dressed gentleman walked up to them along the stone-paved path from the mansion.

"Good evening, Miss Hazelton. I'm Edward, the butler. You'll be staying in the centaur quarters, if that is acceptable. Shall I take your vehicle to the garage, or do you prefer to drive it yourself?"

Dawn tried to assume a haughty air and badly copied Queen Elizabeth's accent. "Yes, of course you shall, after you escort me" - she laughed at the horrible accent, then resumed in a normal tone. "Sorry, I am not used to dealing with a butler - or to there being a butler to deal with." She handed him her key. "The centaur quarters are fine."

Edward pocketed the key and said "May I take your bags?"

"The book bag is heavy; I should carry it." She shouldered the one bag and handed him the other. "Atsali? Where are you headed? And who takes the stuff from Mucho Mocha?"

"We live in the guest-house," Atsali said, "the four of us, but I'll mostly be in the mansion until sometime after dinner. Edward, how long until dinner?"

"About 45 minutes, and I'll convey the pastry and coffees to their proper place. Miss Hazelton, you'll have time to change if you like." Atsali nodded and headed toward the guest-house with her school bag. Edward continued: "Will you be human or feral for dinner? Rowdy and Cinnamon usually are feral, and the mistress may be in either form. The rest of the family will be in human form."

"I will be feral, then - in my apartment I hardly have room to move!"

"Very well. That complaint will not apply here." Edward led Dawn into the building, which turned out to be rather house-like on the inside... other than the lack of seating. It did have other furniture, sized for centaurs rather than humans, and was divided into actual rooms rather than stalls - with all doorways being notably tall and wide. The entry was into a large living room taking up one end of the building; Edward led her to a long hallway with several rooms on each side. "Your room is the third one on the left. The mistress uses the first when she is here, and Cinnamon's is the second. The first room on the right is the kitchenette; the next two are Buck's and Rowdy's. The paddock is directly out the far door, and the washroom just before it on the right."

The room was quite spacious and well-lit. Along one wall were several cabinets, one of them apparently a Murphy bed, and a wardrobe. Shelves - mostly empty - lined the opposite wall, with two centaur-height work tables on large feet in front of them. A large window looked out on extensive pasture of rolling hills barely taller than a centaur; treetops were visible in the distance. In one corner two chairs were pressed between the wall and a human-height table which held a potted bush with little pink flowers.

"What would your mother say about this?" The stern question startled Dawn, and she struggled for an answer until she realized that the butler was addressing the bush on the table. She turned to watch as the bush stepped out of the pot, jumped down to the floor, and reshaped itself into a seven-year-old girl wearing a leaf-print jumpsuit. Sighing, the child picked up the pot and turned toward the door as Edward placed Dawn's bag on one of the other tables.

"Castela," Dawn realized aloud.

The youngster turned around again, smiling. "You're Pauline. Can-can-can I stay?"

"If you had come and asked, I would say yes. But you tried to sneak in. So, no. Off you go; we will talk later."

"Aw, you-you sound just like Mom!" She sulked out of the room and a moment later the door of the building slammed.

Dawn grinned at Edward. "I think that was a compliment. And perhaps 'Mom' does not need to hear about this."

"Katherine is doing quite well with both her daughters. Sounding like her is not a bad thing. Will there be anything else?"

"Not that I can think of. Thank you."

"I believe Rowdy is in his room, and the intercom has a button to call me. Come up to the mansion whenever you are ready." He closed the door and his footsteps went down the hall.

Dawn quickly stripped and shifted. After opening her clothing bag and arranging most of the contents in a cabinet and wardrobe, she picked up a toiletries-and-makeup bag, and clopped to the washroom for a bit of cleaning and decoration. Just after she returned to her room she heard another centaur emerge from across the hall and head toward the washroom.

It took only a few minutes to select some subtle jewelry and finish her preparation. She went out to the hallway just in time to see Rowdy emerge, feral, from the washroom. Her tail whipped around involuntarily - well, mostly involuntarily - but it didn't make enough noise for him to notice. A wolf-whistle seemed appropriate.

He looked up and grinned. "And you're a fine piece of horseflesh yourself, my lady. Give me a minute to finish up." Shortly thereafter they headed toward the mansion, walking side by side up the path.

From an upstairs window, Daisy looked out over the estate and smiled as she watched her younger son and this Vermont filly. "If they hoist those tails any higher, they'll be picking stars out of them."

Her husband wrapped his arms around her from behind. "I share the sentiment," he replied, "even though I lack a tail." She happily leaned into the embrace. Several moments later he added "But dinner will be ready momentarily, and we should descend for introductions."

Warrl
Posts: 1353
Joined: Sat Jul 20, 2013 10:44 pm

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by Warrl » Sat Oct 22, 2016 3:46 am

After dinner Daisy encouraged Rowdy to show Dawn around the estate and get in a good run, carefully not mentioning they would get some time alone in feral form. It did not take them long to clear out, leaving the rest of the family around the table.

"So, what do you think of her?" Daisy put the question before the group.

"She - she's pretty," Castela declared. "And smart. I like her."

Katherine looked at her daughter. "Yes, just before dinner she mentioned that you paid her an odd compliment. I believe it was that she sounds just like me. Would you like to tell me how that happened?"

"Um, um, no Mama."

"She wouldn't tell me either. If I knew, would I tell you not to do it again?"

"Yes Mama. I-I-I won't."

"Very well then. And I agree. It looks like a good match."

"I don't know," Cinnamon said. "She seemed rather stiff and formal to me."

"That could be just nerves," Buck said. "Meeting her boyfriend's family for the first time, and we are rather high-status among centaurs."

"There's something a bit odd about her speech, besides her accent," Katherine added. "I couldn't pin down what it was - I was listening to what she said, not how she said it. It did seem a bit stiff. But otherwise she seemed relaxed to me."

"And," Al broke in, "how formal was she truly?" He put on a petulant expression and continued: "She never once called me 'Sir'!"

Laughter engulfed not only the dining room, but also the kitchen. Just as the laughter died down, the three centaurs at the table suddenly started laughing again - even harder.

--

"So, how do you like the family?"

After a glorious run around the perimeter of the estate, taking full advantage of centaurs' excellent night vision and the moderate moonlight, the two were at the edge of the woods.

"They are great. I like them all. Except sometimes Atsali, but she is in those moody confused teenage years that are nearly as hard to live with as to live through. And on the way here I upended some misconceptions she held and gave her something to think about. She will grow into herself and be a really great person, I suspect. Al, on the other hand, is a hoot. Tina at Mucho Mocha told me he is, and she was right."

"I noticed you never called him 'Sir'. Under the circumstances, that seems odd."

"Oh, is that what everyone was waiting for? Tina warned me not to, and then I saw certain similarities in behavior to two of my favorite great-uncles. To quote them," - she dropped her voice an octave, and bellowed "DON'T CALL ME SIR! I WORK FOR A LIVING!"

As Rowdy recovered from his laughter, she walked over to him and rested a hand on the willow he had braced himself against. "Am I right? Career military, a sergeant or so?"

"You nailed it. Sergeant-major in Her Majesty's special forces."

"Ah, this is a good spot. The ground is frozen well enough." She knelt, a bit of a process for a feral centaur, at the base of the tree.

"A good spot for what?"

"A bit of a personal ritual. I do this every year after the ground freezes." She put her hands a few inches apart on the bare frozen earth. She was still, barely breathing, with a look of intense concentration, her lips moving in a silent chant.

Once she looked up at the willow, as if startled, but did not falter.

Between her hands, three golden-yellow stems broke through the surface of the soil and raised leaves, and then buds. She straightened and eased backward, took several deep breaths, then carefully rose to her feet and staggered away.

Then she turned and bowed - to the willow. "Thank you, beautiful tree." Walking over to a maple, she wrapped her arms around it, and quickly regained her strength. "And thank you also, for the gift of your energy. No, sadly, I wish I were. Rowdy, did you know these trees are awake? Who cares for them so lovingly?"

The tree rustled rather more than was justified by the light breeze through its bare branches.

"Oh no. You are just as beautiful now, but a different kind of beauty. And the snow will bring yet another sort of beauty. Usstan orn'la gultah vendui'ulu l'Dalharilen d'l'Emente', ka nind ph'yor'in." I would offer greetings to the Daughters of the Elements, if they are willing.

A few minutes later Emerauld stepped out of the shadows. "I thought it unlikely that Friend Al's voice would change so much since last I heard him." Rowdy performed the introductions. "Lu'lu'oh zhah ol nindel dos telanth l'ooble'd'l'taur darthien, Dalharil d'l'Su'aco?" And how is it that you speak the tongue of the forest elves, Daughter of the Wind?

"A group of elves made their home for a few years in my family's forests, as they have now and again for centuries. My brother and I all but lived among them for several summers. My brother, who seeks to be a forester, learned to listen to all the small plants; but the elves desired I learn their tongue."

Emerauld held out a hand. "May I touch you?"

Dawn replied by placing her own broad hand against Emerauld's much-smaller one.

"Ah," the elf said. "I understand why."

"She is a Healer. It is rather obvious. But that is not among my gifts, so my own aura does not obscure it." Safyr stepped into the moonlight a couple yards away.

Immediately Dawn spun around to face the Drow in a fighting stance. "What is a Daughter of the Dark doing in this place?" she demanded as Rowdy, astonished, scrambled to try to intervene.

By then Safyr was well out of hoof-range, with swords in both hands, crouched and ready to leap... but she paused, then stood and re-sheathed her blades. "Jalbyr rebuke ulu l'oolos vel'uss telanth Healers ph'yibin lu'xuileb khalith. Usstan kyorl ussta dalninil's rath, lu'xun vel'bol Usstan xal ulu xxizz nindyn vel'uss morfeth ilta al'doer." Another rebuke to the fools who say Healers are weak and without courage. I guard my sister's back, and do what I may to help those who make her welcome.

Rowdy put a hand on Dawn's flank and said "Dawn, Safyr is a dear friend and ally, welcome on our land and in our home."

"You trust a Drow? Wait - this is the Safyr you told me about?"

"Yes. She is outcast among her kind because she chose a path of love and honor."

"An easy path, it was not. But my blades are pledged to justice, and I have learned the virtues of moderation, tolerance, and even forgiveness. If you can name an oath that you believe will bind me, I will swear that this is true."

"Then I withdraw my challenge." She relaxed her stance... somewhat.

"But," Safyr said, "you do so reluctantly, and remain wary. I withdraw for now, to give you time to consider what you know. We will meet again at the feast tomorrow."

But Emerauld put her hand on her sister's shoulder. Angrily she demanded "Girl, what do you think you know of Drow?"

Dawn pointed at the three flowers now in full bloom at the base of the willow - small silver flowers with black edges, laced with pale blue, on golden-yellow stems and leaves.

"Winterblossoms?" Emerauld said. "Drow, all three?"

"Two."

Safyr tilted her head. "Who?"

"My sister, at the Pillsbury Mill - Rowdy says you were there. My first love - I provided him the appropriate honor guard. And a teacher of healers, who had come specifically for me; I knew him only a week."

"Some would say," Safyr commented, "that it is not proper that you should honor him so after such a short acquaintance."

"I shall desist, if he tells me to do so."

"You have cause for anger," Emerauld said, "but still, you judge one by the actions of others. "

"I can judge only by the knowledge I have. I have never heard of a good Drow, save from Rowdy, and I do not recall him mentioning your race. Now I have more knowledge and must consider its meaning."

"Then go and do so, before your prejudice creates pain between you and Rowdy." And the two elves disappeared.

"What was that about - I couldn't follow, things moved so fast," Rowdy said, "and what's with the flowers?"

"Is this grove set aside for them? Then I should leave it." Dawn started walking slowly back toward the house. "The winterflowers are a good place to start. They are made of magic, and it is part of the nature of the spell that while an extremely minor mage, or a healer, can make them when conditions are right, even the most powerful mage must put everything he has into them and would be hard-pressed to make more than four. As such, they are a sacrifice, and are made only to honor the most beloved dead.

"I often spent a week or two at a time with the elves, mostly in the summer but also over the winter break from school. When they saw that I have Healing magic, they sent messages seeking someone to teach me how to use it well. When I was 13, a teacher came, and a week later the Drow attacked with no warning. They withdrew as soon as they had killed the teacher, but by then there were three others dead, including a boy about my own age whom I had a serious crush on - he blocked a blow aimed at me."

"And the honor guard?"

"The Drow who killed him got my hoof through her skull. I think she did not realize she faced a centaur, or I likely would have died - I had no training in fighting.

"Rowdy, Drow are evil and take joy in causing pain and destruction - that is what I heard of them from the elves, and from my parents, and what I saw myself in the pools of my friends' blood. I hate them beyond hatred. And yet... these two... you respect, like, and trust them, and everything you have told me of them says they are worthy of it. Do I read you correctly?"

"Yes. After Pillsbury, I really believe they saved my sanity. Dawn, your sister died in my arms! Then when I saw Al and Mom both lying severely wounded - I went berserk. I killed anyone who stood in my way, for the sheer joy of it. Then when I came down... they talked me through it, and showed me that I don't need to fear myself."

"Then for your sake, and in thanks for that, I will learn to tolerate their presence without panic or threat. I cannot say how long it will take, or if I will ever be able to call either of them a friend. But at least that little shall happen."

Warrl
Posts: 1353
Joined: Sat Jul 20, 2013 10:44 pm

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by Warrl » Sun Oct 23, 2016 11:28 am

It took me a while to get the previous segment right, during which period I also wrote a few more segments. So I have a bit of a backlog...
edit: I forgot to give credit to Yana for help with her dialog[/i[


"A mix, Monica says. Just look deliberate. How am I supposed to dress for that? Well, when she gets here I can see what she's wearing and maybe change."
With that safety valve in mind, Yana picked out a navy-blue long dress with subtle vertical stripes that would make her seem taller. As she finished her make-up, her phone rang.

"Hi Monica. Ten minutes, sure. Room 730."

Ten minutes later Yana opened the door and welcomed Monica into her room. "The weather forecast is for a storm. Should I bring an overnight bag, just in case?"

"No; I can get you back here, guaranteed. Girl, that dress is perfect!"

"Okay, then, I'll grab my coat. Where's Georgette?"

"Paris." Monica pulled out her cell phone and sent a quick text.

Yana walked toward the door, but suddenly the room changed around her. She stopped and looked around, confused. Instead of her hotel room, she was in a tidy entryway with a stone-tile floor.

"Sorry, but I've found that warning people about their first teleport makes them nervous." Monica smiled at her. "We're here. Hello Edward."

"Monica. And this would be Miss Nimkova. Might I take your coats, ladies?" The gentleman did not look precisely like the stereotypical butler, but fairly close. "Miss Nimkova, the mistress was concerned about someone new to the paranormal being subject to what is in effect immersion therapy, so some arrangements were made. You have the option of bowing out - Monica can return you to your hotel - without knowing exactly whom you've met or where you've been."

"That seems fair. Obviously I'll be learning people's secrets - and they know muy poco about me."

"I'm not happy about it," Monica said, "but I don't argue with Daisy about how to run her home. I really don't think you'll freak out - and once you prove I'm right they'll open up more. That way, and turn right."

Yana walked as directed, and as she turned the corner she immediately collided face-first with someone's bare stomach. A rather broad and muscular male stomach. Large hands caught her shoulders and steadied her, then promptly released.

"Wow. I know I'm short, but I don't think I've been eye-to-navel with anyone since fourth grade." She looked up as she stepped back. The blond gentleman she had collided with appeared to be at least eight feet tall. "...holy crap, you're tall."

The chuckle that emerged was so deep and rolling, it could have come from God's laugh-track.

"Buck, this is Yana. Yana, look down."

Yana looked down. The man's skin gave way to a thin coat of pale brown fur, and progressively darker and longer-furred legs with anatomy that was definitely not human, ending in hooves about the size of her face. She leaned to the side a bit and saw there was an entire horse body and another pair of legs behind him. A horse's tail, nearly black in color, briefly whisked into view.

"Whoa...a centaur? That's fricking awesome. I love centaurs. Um. I mean, sorry." She cleared her throat. "So, now that I've embarrassed myself, what's the proper greeting?"

"A handshake works," Buck replied. "Welcome to our home, Yana Nimkova. There is a Dungeons and Dragons game in the dining room, or conversation in the living room, as you prefer."

"Who's the DM today?" Monica asked with interest.

"They're doing short sessions, I understand, so people can drift in and out of the game. Nadette has the next turn as DM, and it sounds like they're about to finish this session."

"Oh, Nadette's good. Let's do that, Yana - right after I introduce you to the other two masters of the manor."

"You'll find them in the living room chatting with Neil and Phix," Buck said. "I need to go help Katherine with Aeternia for a bit."

Monica led the way to where a couple in their late middle age were chatting with a couple in their late teens. The youngsters, as it turned out, were Neil and Phix, and the older couple Daisy and Al - the lady and master of the house. They were discussing marriage; Yana was surprised to realize that the discussion was mostly Neil giving advice to Al.

"How long have you been married?" she quietly asked Daisy.

"Not quite a year," was the answer. "I was married for over twenty years, when my first husband died. But this is Al's first marriage."

She turned to Phix. "And you two? Obviously not long?"

Phix smirked. "We've been together for more than thirty years in total." She put an enormous lion-paw over Yana's hand. "Things are not always what they seem, and even truth can be misleading."

Yana looked at the paw covering her hand and most of her forearm. The claws - retracted - were the largest she'd ever seen in person, but somehow the transition between that huge paw and the ordinary human elbow looked almost natural. "I thought sphinxes were Egyptian, but that sounds more like a Chinese fortune cookie."

Phix looked rather startled. "You read mythology? I'm actually much too old to be Egyptian. But we're discussing something else right now - how are you on family relationships?"

"Phix, I grew up in southern Arizona. It's fifty degrees warmer there right now. And I arranged to get my ass up here where I can freeze it off, so that I don't spend Thanksgiving with my family."

"Ah, I see." She paused a moment, gazing at Yana in a manner that seemed to bore through her soul. "Those wounds are deep - healing must be done with care.... for now, why don't you two go join the game? Monica seems rather enthusiastic about it."

Monica said "I forgot to ask - do you play D&D?"

"Yes, occasionally - not as often as I'd like." As they left the room, Yana continued, "Just out of curiosity, is anyone here just human?"

"Nobody is 'just human'. Everyone's special in some way. But for what you meant, yes. All of the household staff, two of the family, and some of the guests are purely human with no paranormal abilities... as far as I know. Although what Rosalita can do in the kitchen might as well be magic as far as I'm concerned."

"Uh... Monica... that... that's a bear!"

The huge bear walked up and said "Hi Monica, who's your observant friend?"

"This is Yana. Nadette, would you please shift? The bathroom isn't big enough for that form anyway."

"Pleased to meet you, Ya-" she shifted "-na. Sorry if I startled you." Now a native-American teen girl in simplified tribal clothing, she stepped through the adjacent bathroom door, then turned and asked "Are you two joining the game?"

"That's the plan," Monica answered.

"Cool. I'm DMing the next session. We have a well-balanced group - could use a touch more healing, but it isn't vital. Any idea what you'd like to play?"

"I think a rogue today," Monica said.

Yana had found her voice again. "I have an idea, but I need DM agreement on one point." She whispered something to Nadette.

The teen thought a moment and said, "That won't make anything easier for you and may make things harder. If you're okay with that, and think you can make use of it to be lots of fun, I'll approve it. Now I really do need to be in here..." She closed the door.

The two women walked on to the dining room. Yana quickly reminded herself to think of everyone in the room as people. Starting with the tangle of vines atop a tall stool, which appeared to be struggling to read one of the D&D books with the assistance of a tan female centaur with lighter-tan mane and tail. (The mane, she noted, ran down the back of the human torso.) Across the table from them was a teenage girl with enormous white wings, facilitated by a cranberry halter top that strained over another pair of enormous attributes; she also wore a matching beret.

On the near side of the table knelt another pair of centaurs, rather close together, in offsetting color schemes: a deep-red female with white mane and tail, and a white male with flame-red mane and tail. The male's coloring was sufficiently similar to the other female's that she suspected they might be siblings.

None of the centaurs were wearing anything at all, as far as she could see.

The tangle of vines dropped the book on the table, shifted its form slightly, and the resulting little girl ran toward them shouting "Tanta Monica!" During the ensuing hug the winged girl made her wings disappear, then brought two more chairs to the table and positioned them opposite the centaur couple - who appeared to be somewhat distracted by each other.

But there was another question. "Monica? Is shapeshifting like that really common?"

"It's the most common sort of magic. Most paranormals have one human form and one least-human form, and can shapeshift between them and some in-between forms. Some species are better at it, and by the time one gets to Phix's age... Now let's go join the game."

As they sat down Yana quickly checked which edition of D&D the books were from while borrowing a pad of blank character sheets and a pencil. Introductions were performed (she quickly drew a more-or-less-rectangular table and wrote names in their proper position, for reference) and the table chatter helped her fit her character into the existing world.

Nadette returned, gave Atsali a hug, and took the DM screen from her.

A couple minutes later (which time Nadette spent organizing things) Yana passed her character sheet across. Nadette looked it over, reading the "background" section with particular interest. "This is great - I can work with this. Let me go make a copy." Soon she was back and handed Yana the original. "You all meet in the town square, summoned by the Earl. Your characters all know each other and are at least willing to work together. Yana's new to the group and I see Cinnamon has switched characters, so everyone introduce your character to the other players. Yana?"

"Well, if you've seen the movie Tangled, somewhere a bit past the middle of it take a sharp turn. Zelle is a bard with a charisma of 'oh please yes', tales of a rather lonely childhood, and incredibly long hair..."

Two hours later, as the game paused between sessions, Al stepped into the room. "What's the verdict, ducks?"

"They're both nuts," Atsali said, smiling.

"Absolutely bonkers," Cinnamon laughed.

"Any dissenting opinions?" Al asked. Getting nothing but thumbs-up signs, he said "Most pleased to hear it. Yana, Dawn, please join us in the parlor. And for the rest of you, Rosalita wants to start setting up the room for dinner, so you need to gather your bits and bobs and absent yourselves, or risk getting drafted as scullery maids."
Last edited by Warrl on Tue Nov 08, 2016 6:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.

FreeFlier
Posts: 1910
Joined: Mon Oct 26, 2015 11:33 pm
Location: Land of the webbed feet

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by FreeFlier » Sun Oct 23, 2016 3:49 pm

:lol: :lol: :lol:

The right kind of crazy is fun.

--FreeFlier

User avatar
lake_wrangler
Posts: 3450
Joined: Sun Aug 05, 2012 8:16 am
Location: Montréal, Québec, Canada

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by lake_wrangler » Sun Oct 23, 2016 7:52 pm

Warrl wrote:"You'll find them in the living room chatting with Neil and Phix," Buck said. "I need to go help Katherine with Aeternia for a bit."
It's DIXIE!

...

...

Or, was it the other way around? ;)
:mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen:
Last edited by lake_wrangler on Sun Oct 23, 2016 8:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.

User avatar
Just Old Al
Posts: 1425
Joined: Tue Jul 31, 2012 4:43 am
Location: Wilderness of Massachusetts
Contact:

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by Just Old Al » Sun Oct 23, 2016 7:53 pm

FreeFlier wrote::lol: :lol: :lol:

The right kind of crazy is fun.

--FreeFlier
Yep. Also mandatory in that household.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."

Warrl
Posts: 1353
Joined: Sat Jul 20, 2013 10:44 pm

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by Warrl » Sun Oct 23, 2016 8:37 pm

lake_wrangler wrote:
Warrl wrote:"You'll find them in the living room chatting with Neil and Phix," Buck said. "I need to go help Katherine with Aeternia for a bit."
It's DIXIE!

...

...

Or, was it the other way around? ;)
:mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen:
Phix is nearby - therefore, it's Aeternia. Safer that way.

User avatar
jwhouk
Posts: 5445
Joined: Wed Aug 01, 2012 7:58 am
Location: The Valley of the Sun, Arizona
Contact:

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by jwhouk » Sun Oct 23, 2016 9:08 pm

lake_wrangler wrote:
Warrl wrote:"You'll find them in the living room chatting with Neil and Phix," Buck said. "I need to go help Katherine with Aeternia for a bit."
It's DIXIE!

...

...

Or, was it the other way around? ;)
:mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen:
Phix gives you a scowl.

"It's the other way around."
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin

Warrl
Posts: 1353
Joined: Sat Jul 20, 2013 10:44 pm

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by Warrl » Sun Oct 23, 2016 10:05 pm

A portion of this is loosely based on reality.

Yana and Dawn had to delay for a pit stop. They arrived in the living room to find Al and a similarly elderly man arguing, loudly, in the middle of the room, over some esoterica of military hardware and auto parts. A number of other people were scattered around looking on tolerantly and attempting to have other conversations.

Daisy came over to them. "Sorry, they just got started, it'll take them a while to run down. Believe it or not, they enjoy it."

"Is the other man another retired sergeant?" Dawn asked.

"Yes he is."

"I thought this looked familiar. I have a pair of great-uncles who - um, Yana, you look pale? Are you okay?"

"This... this shouting... I hate it. I want to run and hide. It drags up some... horrible memories."

"Oh. Really, for them I am sure this is nothing, they are probably best friends, and do not even consider this an argument." (Daisy nodded.) "But that hardly matters, if it bothers you that much. Daisy, may I disrupt them?"

"I'm not sure it's possible. But go ahead and try."

Dawn suddenly grinned. "Even better, Yana's going to help me. Daisy, please go about halfway down the hall, and then come back. They will stop by the time you have both feet back in the room."

"You're that sure that whatever you have in mind will work?" Daisy turned and exited via the hallway. Dawn leaned over and whispered some instructions to Yana, and the two young women positioned themselves on each side of the hallway entrance.

A moment later Yana said "Officer approaching". And as Daisy stepped through the doorway, Dawn's voice boomed out with all the resonance and authority her centaur body could put into it, "Hroom, ten-HUT!"

Instantly Dawn, Al, the other gentleman, Neil, and a few other people were standing rigidly at attention facing Daisy. Dawn whispered a few instructions, and Daisy said "As you were. Al, Greg, come here please."

As the two approached, Neil and several other people applauded, causing Al and his erstwhile opponent to turn and glare at them - which in turn drew chuckles. A robustly-built middle-aged woman excused herself from her current companions on the other side of the room.

"Expect bad puns," Dawn whispered to Daisy and Yana.

"You've met Al," Daisy said. "This other troublemaker is Greg Howard, and this is his wife Annie. Greg, say hello to Yana and Dawn, if you can do it without yelling."

He obediently replied "Hello, Yana and Dawn."

"Where did you learn that stunt, young lady?" Al asked.

"From my aunt, a former Army boot-camp drill instructor. Her father and his twin brother are a lot like you two."

"Friend," Greg said, "I believe the lass has outflanked us."

"Well, it's surely to be expected, what with her being a centaur."

"True. She has a good deal more flank than both of us combined."

Dawn winced. "But I was not expecting that bad. Feeling better, Yana?"

"A little, yeah. Hey, I helped control it!"

The two sergeants focused their attention on the diminutive model, and immediately recognized the symptoms of a PTSD panic attack. "Oh shit," Greg said.

"Yana," Al said calmly, "I know not what skeletons we resurrected, and it would be improper of me to ask, but you have our abject apologies. I assure you, there was no risk of violence; bellowing is how NCOs lower our blood pressure. Greg is a dear friend, my brother in all but blood - despite his strange accent. Come, sit and relax. Would you like something to drink?"

Al led her to, she realized, the same chair he had been sitting in earlier. Dawn and Daisy started to follow, but Annie stopped them saying the sergeants had a good deal of experience talking people through PTSD attacks. Soon thereafter Greg returned with the beer she had requested, just as Buck entered from the back of the house and said "Hey Mom, an old friend showed up for a visit!"

Daisy looked at the large fluffy white dog next to the huge centaur. "Is that Duke? We haven't seen you in years!"

The dog sniffed the matron's hand suspiciously, then grinned in recognition as he let her stroke his head. He sniffed the air again, looked around the room, and trotted over to Yana. Leaping over the chair arm, he landed in Yana's lap and lay down.

"Oof! Hey, you aren't a lap dog! You weigh more than me! Get off, dammit!"

Ignoring her request, he shifted his weight so a large share of it was on the arms of the chair. Then he shoved his nose under one of Yana's hands and tilted his head back so her hand slid to his ear. Obediently she began scratching behind it.

"You need to get off! Damn, your fur is soft and fluffy - I think I could get lost in it."

He turned and nuzzled Yana's ear, getting a hug from her in the process.

Meanwhile Annie confided to Dawn that she had pulled the same military stunt on Greg - once - and found it a little too effective and annoying; but she approved on this occasion and found it quite amusing. She also warned that some sort of counter-prank should be expected.

After Yana snuggled the dog for several minutes a soft voice asked her "Feeling better?"

"Yes - wait, who said that?"

Duke slid off her lap onto the floor. "You don't smell like you're two steps from a panic attack now. Mr. Schulz definitely got at least one thing right. Buck, now that I've spread dog hair all over this lady, would you care to introduce us?"

"Yana, this is Duke Durant, my freshman roommate and a were-Great Pyrenees. Duke, this is Yana Nimkova, a friend of Monica - whom I don't think you've met yet."

"Pleased to meet you, Yana."

"Likewise - um - should I offer to shake hands?"

A large were-dog, Yana thought, has a very interesting laugh.

"You're new to the paranormal? In this form, offering to shake hands is not recommended. It wouldn't bother me, but many werewolves think it's insulting. Now Buck, I smell many other people I don't recall, and why is your mother in human form? Last I remember, you said she hadn't been human since your father's funeral."

"And that leads to the next introduction. This gentleman is Al Richer, my new stepfather - married Mom last Christmas day - and lord of the manor."

Buck sniffed Al's hand. "A human - married to a centaur. I bet there's an interesting story!"

"There is," Al answered, "or at least a rather long one, and some parts are quite unpleasant. Ah, I just heard an arrival in the entryway - Monica and Georgette, I suspect."

Monica and Georgette entered the room just as Katherine and the remainder of the role-playing participants came through the hallway.

Noting that everyone was now present, Al turned toward the center of the room and pitched his voice to carry well. "All, please acquire a glass if you haven't one, and attend." As people sought and refilled glasses (and Cinnamon stepped around a corner carrying a basket of sleeping baby sphinx to a quieter location), in a more moderate voice he said "Yana, please stand. Duke, jump up on the chair and stand high so you can be easily seen." After a suitable delay he resumed the loud voice. "This lovely lady " - he gestured - "is Yana, joining us by courtesy of Monica and Georgette. The equally lovely centaur next to the even more lovely Daisy is Pauline, Rowdy's frequent companion since midsummer. And the white furry gentleman is Duke, who attended university with Buck. We welcome these newcomers among us, as we welcome the remainder of you. All hail new friends and old!"

"All hail" echoed around the room as nearly two dozen glasses were raised.

Edward stepped into the room to announce that the dining room would be ready in ten minutes, which drew another round of cheers. He noticed Duke standing on the chair. "Will the new guest be dining in that form?"

"No, Edward, that wouldn't be fitting with this crowd and me the only canid. I dropped my bag outside the back door; if I could retrieve it and then borrow a room to change in?"

"Certainly. It's Duke, I believe? You needn't make your visits so infrequent - has it been ten years?"

"It has - but Independence is not conveniently close. Three and a half hours in a car and I can't properly stick my head out the window while I'm driving."

Fifteen minutes later, most of the company had heavily-laden plates and were clustered around tables - some high, some low - in the living room. Buck asked "So, Duke, what prompted this visit?"

"I need help getting something squared away in my head. You're gonna laugh."

"Oh?" Buck sipped his beer.

"I'm the new mayor of Cormorant."

Buck snorted, then grabbed at his face as he sputtered. "OUCH! I should have taken your warning seriously! Beer out the nose is NOT GOOD! Now, tell me what's really going on."

"Someone put me on the ballot. I won. I'm the mayor."

"You're serious? Since when does Cormorant have - or need - a mayor? There's barely even a village."

Monica interrupted. "Buck, you're used to being in, or at least on the edge of, the Twin Cities. I take it Cormorant is quite small?"

"It's a township," Buck explained, "like Independence. About the same area, 26 square miles - but a bit over a thousand people compared to almost four thousand, and more evenly spread. Last time I was there, the village, the population center, had eight houses, a gas station, and an elementary school. The nearest supermarket is about 15 miles away, all through farmland."

"And you grew up there, Duke?" He nodded. "I grew up in an area a lot like that. The mindset is different. How about you two?" She looked at Yana and Pauline.

Pauline said "Well, Hyde Park Township is a bit larger area and a bit smaller population than Independence. Hyde Park Village - my parents live just barely inside it - is a square mile and change with about 400 people, and the second-biggest city within twenty miles. So I think the township is somewhere between Independence and Cormorant."

"The town of Why is a damned sight smaller," Yana commented, drawing a scolding look from Katherine. She remembered that two small children were present. "And more isolated. Take 26 square miles and you might have four thousand rattlesnakes, but you wouldn't have four hundred people."

"So," Monica continued, "we're familiar with small towns. The mayor of Cormorant is not important in the same way as the mayor of Minneapolis - but he's still important, just differently. What's the mayor of Cormorant responsible for?"

"Being present at public events. It isn't even a government office. The election's a fundraiser - it costs a dollar to cast a vote."

"I see," Yana jumped in. "The position is really a fffffreaking joke, but you represent the community - mostly to itself, because even people who drive through the village barely notice it's there. The mayor, at his best, helps the townfolk understand who they are and who they want to be. Heck yes, that's important" - the passion in her voice left an impression of tales untold - "and in Cormorant it's the only job."

"I feel like I should be doing something, and I don't want to mess up."

"Do what? You can't do anything, you have no authority. Why did people pay a buck to be allowed to vote for you?"

"I have no idea."

"When you jumped in my lap - why did you do that?"

"You were hurting, upset, almost panicking. I knew I could help, so I did."

"You knew you could help, so you did. Duke, that is why you're the mayor, and what the people who voted for you want from you. You do what needs done to help other people, just because you can, and they want that kind of person as a symbol of - really, of them."

"Kind of dog, actually. Only a couple people know I'm a were-dog, and I got elected as a dog."

Dawn laughed. "They elected a dog? Duke, if they wanted their mayor to do something, they would not have chosen a dog for the job!"

Yana nodded. "That's right, they wouldn't. It isn't a big deal. Get your head out of your - um, pants - and just be you, and you'll be fine."

"I think the ladies are right," Buck said. "You were chosen because you're a very visible part of the best of Cormorant. Even if the title means little, there's honor in it. So be proud, but don't let it change you, and don't fret about it."

Duke laughed. "Actually, I think I knew that - but I needed someone else to tell me. Thank you."

"That happens," Dawn said. "And you remind me that I need to start working on getting something straight in my head. Excuse me." She took her plate and glass, and went to look for the elves.

FreeFlier
Posts: 1910
Joined: Mon Oct 26, 2015 11:33 pm
Location: Land of the webbed feet

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by FreeFlier » Sun Oct 23, 2016 10:25 pm

:lol: :lol: A were-Pyrenees . . . :lol: :lol: :lol:

Better than a were-chihuahua, I suppose!

--FreeFlier

Warrl
Posts: 1353
Joined: Sat Jul 20, 2013 10:44 pm

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by Warrl » Sun Oct 23, 2016 10:56 pm

FreeFlier wrote: :lol: :lol: A were-Pyrenees . . . :lol: :lol: :lol:

Better than a were-chihuahua, I suppose!

--FreeFlier
And, he's real... well, aside from the "were-" part. Quite a lot of what I say about Cormorant and its mayor is factual. Of course, I had to do a lot of interpretation of why.

The instant I saw that article I knew I had to use it, and where it would go in the story. In a section that, as it happened, was seriously in need of another idea or two. Then it was just a matter of having fun with it. It's why fictional-Yana has PTSD - real-Yana says she doesn't - which of course gave me an excuse for some more fun.

(Then I found out the link I had saved was dead and got a page of sports scores instead, but there are enough accurate details in my story that I was able to search for a link to another article about him.)

By the way, I've read some stories - I think set in either Callahan's or Lady Sally's (both the work of Spider Robinson) - involving a were-beagle. I don't recall any were-chihuahuas though. (I've known some people who would make great were-Yorkies.)
Last edited by Warrl on Mon Oct 24, 2016 2:06 am, edited 1 time in total.

FreeFlier
Posts: 1910
Joined: Mon Oct 26, 2015 11:33 pm
Location: Land of the webbed feet

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by FreeFlier » Mon Oct 24, 2016 12:26 am

Warrl wrote: . . . By the way, I've read some stories - I think set in either Callahan's or Lady Sally's (both the work of Spider Robinson) - involving a were-beagle. I don't recall any were-chihuahuas though. . . .
IIRC, Jack Chalker's Dancing Gods series had a were-chihuahua . . . and it seems like I've encountered one somewhere else . . .

And the Borderlands anthology series had a werekitten.
Warrl wrote: . . . (I've known some people who would make great were-Yorkies.)
But then they'd have to be evil.

--FreeFlier

Warrl
Posts: 1353
Joined: Sat Jul 20, 2013 10:44 pm

Re: A Stable Relationship

Post by Warrl » Mon Oct 24, 2016 3:02 am

And I got an idea for another segment to go right here - before a few more that I already have at least partially written - and spent about two hours writing it, and then another hour and a half rewriting most of it...

... and realized that while it makes perfect sense for the characters, no matter what I do it'll be 98% rehash for the readers. And therefore, not worthwhile.

The other 2% can safely be implied to have happened off-camera.

Post Reply