Nienke's fiction journal

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 00:55:05 GMT

http://phrenesis.endoria.net is updated! Check it out.

Sat, 03 Sep 2005 14:07:28 GMT

He is lying in my bed, sleeping. I had thought that he would sleep with his arms spread open and his legs stretched out, taking possession of the bed the way he has taken possession of everything else. Instead he is lying on his side, curled up in an almost fetal position.
He seems vulnerable now, and more real. To my surprise I feel protective of him. I want to take him in my arms and hold him and that has nothing to do with lust.
I am not fooled by this new side of him, nor am I lovestruck because we had sex. I know he doesn’t wear a mask. He is exactly as he appears – detached, utterly egoistical, wicked, sarcastic, arrogant – he doesn’t need anyone except himself. But this Mordred, this man who sleeps like a child...
He rolls on his back and his dark eyes are wide, awake. I look at him looking at me from my place in the window sill, knowing well my hair is the only thing covering me. It’s been long since I have been this aware of my body and his gaze on me is unnerving, but only slightly so. The satisfaction his staring gives me surprises me, too. I had thought I had left that behind me, but I should have realised that a person never changes. That I never really change.

“Do you think you’re immortal, boy?” I ask him.
He raises his eyebrows, a slight twitch to his lips. “I’m an elf, right?”
“Look in the mirror, boy. Do you see the lines in your face?”
His eyebrows rise higher. “I don’t have wrinkles.”
I smile at him, just affably enough. “Not yet, but you will.”
“What are you saying, Ree?” His eyes narrow slightly, but his face remains impassive.
“Rionach,” I correct, giving him a name I have not used since I came here. I don’t know why I do it. It is not the first name I have had; it’s a human name, and I am not particularily attached to it.
“Rionach,” he repeats, perfectly immitating my intonation. “That’s not Sidhe.”
“No, it’s not,” I say.
He is still looking at me and I want to go to him, to touch him and make sure he exists. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he is everything that is insane in me and I am dreaming myself, split, twisted, reshaped into something that I cannot, will not understand. But he breathes, and instead he comes to me and puts his hand in my neck and kisses me. And I let him pull me back to the bed and take me, slowly, deep. I am still afraid of him. I am afraid of myself, and tonight has meant more to me than many nights before. But he shines as I touch him, black and bronze and sunlight on snow, and fire runs from his body in mine in his in a never-ending circle. He isn’t magic, this one, not as he should be. He doesn’t ride the magic, the magic rides him. He is tainted, a misshapen thing, and I am perverse for fucking him. But I do not feel tainted as I touch him. Every stroke of his hands cleans me of the light of the court, of the scent of gold and firethorn. His kiss burns away the memory of kings. The magic rides him and he rides me, and I let myself be dragged under by them both. I immerse myself in his shame. I wash myself clean in his hate.
“I love you,” I say, but I mean myself. I laugh, and he laughs with me. At me. I cry, and he holds me. Eventually he leaves, and I sleep. I don’t dream.

***

Somewhat inspired by an old cues challenge, 'shine'. I realise that the tone changes, though I don't know if it's annoying. Hm. Most of this is months old, but since I've been neglecting this world, I needed to update something.

T/P snippet. "The person who defines you"

Tue, 12 Apr 2005 20:45:07 GMT

It was a stupid assignment, by all means. Pan stared at the piece of paper, chewing on her pen. She was sitting at the Briefs’ kitchen table, her homework in front of her, pop music playing softly in the background. Alone for the moment, since Bra had left her to go to the bathroom.
Who defined her? Her parents had made her, that was for sure. They had made her begin; they had made her be. Furthermore, they more than anyone else had influenced her when she grew up. They had shaped her into the person she was, at least up until a certain age.
The person who defines you. As if there were only one person who defined her. Each and every one of her friends, her family, her enemies, defined her. Every one of them made her act a certain way or changed her view on certain things. Every person she met defined her, perhaps, because she’d surely be different if she hadn’t met them. Not noticably maybe, not even for herself, but different nonetheless.
The person who defines you. It was one of those assignments that made her nervous, because she didn’t know what exactly her teacher wanted from her. Did he want her to write an essay about her ideas on the subject or did he actually want her to pick one person and write down how he or she defined her? She wanted to get a good grade, so she needed to make a decent story out of this today. Tomorrow’d be too late.
She sighed and put her pen on the paper, staring at the teeth prints in the blue plastic. The person who defines you. Maybe Bra had an idea.
“Pan, hey!”
The person who defines you. She looked up, startled, and found Trunks standing next to her, a smile on his face that didn’t match his grey suit.
“I never thought you could be distracted by homework,” he said, grinning. “I didn’t even sneak up on you!”
“Dork.” She rammed an elbow in his stomach and smirked when he doubled, chuckling and gasping and almost choking on his tongue. He was impossibly cute with that playful grin on his face. At times he was heartstoppingly handsome, blue fire crackling in his eyes and in his aura, casting shadows that made his face and body all sharp lines and angles. She liked him better like this, though, teasing her, a real smile on his face, a real person behind those eyes. The look he gave her made her stomach twirl and her hands shake. His smile made her break out in sweat and grow cold at the same time. He was so godforsakenly cute.
He quickly grabbed her arm and forced it on her back, all but pulling her from her chair in the process. She complained loudly, gasping, and tried to break free, but he was stronger, even when she powered up. “Spar with me?” he asked, the laughter still clear in his voice.
She glanced at her notebook, her pen, the empty chair Bra had been sitting on. Unable to resist his pleading look, she said: “Sure,” and let herself be dragged outside. “You’ll be hurt for this, just so you know,” she added, as an afterthought.
He smirked at her. “For some reason, I think you’ll be the one ending up hurt.”
The person who defines you. She kicked at him, in vain. “Unlikely,” she said, stuck out her tongue, and chose to forget about her assignment.

***

Cross-posted to cues

Hemlock: Mordred and Ree gettin' it on :P

Sun, 13 Mar 2005 22:44:46 GMT

“Why did you call me here, Ree?”
He was looking at her intently, his dark eyebrows raised, his full lips slightly curled upwards. He was beautiful, she thought, too feminine to be handsome, but wild and beautiful. She knew he was not to be tamed, but she would be damned if she did not try. It felt better, now that she had finally made up her mind. She didn’t feel content, not when she was putting her self worth on stake as she was, but she could appreciate the determination that had taken over her mind.
He was still looking at her in question, but instead of answering verbally, she walked over to him and leaned against him, her breath on his lips and their gazes locked.
She could feel his heartbeat speed up, but his voice was perfectly controlled. “You’re letting me win?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “That game of yours is exactly that. Yours. I never agreed to it, I am not playing it, and therefore I can’t win.” She leaned in closer, her lips just hovering over his, tasting his breath. “And neither can you.” She knew he was not immune for her teasing, would have known even if she hadn’t been pressing so close that she could feel the evidence. The way his eyelids slightly drooped, the inaudible sigh he gave; she had been trained to notice these things and to react on them. A good seductress she had never been, but she was an attentive lover.
“What makes you think I’d still be interested, now you yielded to me?” he asked, still in that detached voice. He stood motionless, his breathing deep and slow, though his heart still beat faster than normal.
“You’re not fooling me and I don’t think you’re fooling yourself either, so don’t bother,” she replied, bolder than she felt. She was bluffing, now. Although she knew he felt lust for her, she was not sure if his feelings ran deeper than that and moreso, she was not sure if it would mean anything even if they did. He hardly reacted like a normal man would, and she was certain that he would not sate his lust if another reaction seemed more desirable in his twisted mind.
His mind was twisted, she knew that. She wouldn’t say he was insane, but he was clearly not normal. But who was really, in this agressive, violent world, or even in sweet Faerie? She was afraid of him, but not because he might have been insane. She was afraid of him because he made her feel, more than anyone had in this new world.
He hadn’t replied. His face was carefully expressionless, his eyes huge in his slender, pointed face. His eyelashes were exceptionally long, she noted absent-mindedly, long and dark and too thick to really curl.
She parted her lips slightly to take a superficial breath and then crossed the last inches, kissing him very softly. Almost immediately his hands found her back, pressing her closer to his body. One of his hands slid up, disappearing in her hair, holding her head firmly in place. Slowly he pushed her backwards and she almost stumbled as her calves hit the bed. Panic rolled over her in a wave – oh gods, what was she bringing to her bed? She knew nothing of him – but she ignored it, pulling him closer still. Her fingers found a way under his tight top and she revelled at the contact. His skin was hot and soft like a girl’s and the soft sigh he gave sounded feminine as well, but his body was hard and angular and his hands rough and he nudged a knee between her legs, parting them and put more pressure on her shoulders, and she fell back on the soft covers, dragging him with her.

**************

Eh, that probably counts as a cliff-hanger (or really just an unfinished piece). I'm sorry, but this is months old already and since I'm basically stuck there, I finally wanted to update it.

Hemlock: Donna/Mordred - questions

Sun, 13 Mar 2005 00:05:47 GMT

She found him on the balcony. He was sitting on the railing, dangling his feet, staring in the distance. He didn’t acknowledge her, but she hadn’t expected him to.
The tiles were comfortingly hot under her feet and she flattened her toes to catch as much of the heat as possible. The sun was still warm as well, though the wind had picked up and the air was rapidly cooling. She breathed in deeply, smelling the coming rain.
“Have you ever been in love?” she eventually asked, staring at his back.
He didn’t turn to look at her. “Yes.”
She silently cursed the fluttering feeling in her stomach. That answer was more than she had thought. He was more than she had thought, – he was more than she could ever have. She could not expect. She should not hope.
Her tail curled protectively around her bare legs. She wouldn’t ask. She wouldn’t – “What’s going on between you and that woman, Ree?”
He finally turned around, his dark eyes serious. He was too beautiful in this form, the fullness of his lips, the delicate lines of his face making her clench her fists in frustration over a longing she shouldn’t feel. “You’re kidding. You like her?”
His lips slowly curled into a smirk. “I fuck her.”
She breathed out, looking away. It wasn’t normal for her to be attracted to him, anyway. He was of a different race. God, he didn’t even have a tail. Growing up in a human world, however hostile it might have been to her, had royally screwed up her ability to pick acceptable partners. Or possible partners. Then again, most teenage girls didn’t have that particular ability.
He had returned to staring in the distance and she looked at him, sighing softly. A cold drop of rain touched her bare arm and a chill ran down her spine. Another raindrop fell on her cheek, trailing down to the corner of her mouth. With a last look at his sharp profile she turned away and walked back into the apartment, trying to swallow the storm in her throat.

Cross-posted to cues.

Hemlock: Mordred thinking about Ree

Fri, 29 Oct 2004 00:15:29 GMT

Mordred smirked to himself. He was breaking Ree, slowly but surely. He knew she wanted him. He also knew that she would never willingly give into that lust. The only way she could ever have him was if she was the one in control of the situation, in control of him. The fun part was that he would not let her have that position. Oh, this challenge was a nice one.
The look in her eyes was cool, but oh so deadly. Mordred, aware of her magic, was slightly wary of that look. He knew Ree was more powerful than she let on, though nowhere near as powerful as she once had been. The fall to this world had hurt her most of everyone, but still she had managed to work herself up to on of the most powerful positions of the earthbound fae. He admired her on a certain level, though he had never desired her position.

“Why do you keep trying, Mordred?” she asked. Her voice was low and clear and he was amused by the feeling that it caused, low in his stomach. Somewhere in this game, the woman had gotten under his skin. It was not only the challenge that entertained him, now, but also Ree herself. He enjoyed her company, amused himself by watching the way she handled the world.
“I’m pleased by this game of ours,” he answered her, truthfully enough.
“Your game,” she replied, dryly. She looked more amused than anything else, he noticed. Maybe he had gotten under her skin, as well. He did not know if that made his challenge easier or harder.

Hemlock Index

Sat, 02 Oct 2004 23:58:54 GMT

This probably needs some kind of summary about the Hemlock world. It might even get one, eventually.
For now, this is in chronological order.

Stories

Father's day

Rose at the dentist

Let the games begin

First kiss

Newby enters

Mordred and Ree

Mordred and the vampires

Mordred and Ree in more interesting positions...

...and more of that.

Donna asking Mordred some questions

Lazing about

Questionaires

Mary Sue test for Donna, Ree and Mordred

Ree

Mordred

Hemlock: Seth/Donna interlude

Fri, 01 Oct 2004 22:53:17 GMT

Seth pushed himself up on his arms and shot Donna a naughty look. “So you’ve never...”
“Shut up, stupid cat,” Donna snapped and turned her back on the rachnye lying on her bedroom floor, her tail curling protectively around her hips.
“Oh, don’t pout,” he drawled, the playful tone still evident in his voice. “You’re not that shy.”
She twirled back around, glaring down at him. “Look who’s talking, virgin boy.”
He made a faint sissing noise and hid his head under his arms. “I never should have told you that.”
She smirked and dropped down next to him. “No, you shouldn’t have.” Her look sobered as she glanced at his yellow eyes, and she looked away. “And I really don’t want to talk about it, Seth.”
He nodded, though she couldn’t see it, and lazily pawed at her tail. “Okay.”
She wrapped her arms around her knees, staring through the window at the grey sky. Her tail swayed slowly back and forth, unconsciously inviting him for another hunt.
“So that Mordred guy, huh,” he said, eventually. His voice was low and his soft, gentle purr almost stilled.
She made a face at the clouds. “What about him?”
“You like him.”
She snorted. “Please, Seth, you’ve met him. There’s nothing to like.”
His eyes narrowed. “Fine, then you have this incontrollable lust for him.” His nails pressed to hard on her tail and she whacked at his hands, annoyed.
“So what if I do? It’s none of your business.”
He sighed and turned away from her, curling up in a seemingly impossible ball. “He’ll hurt you.”
She shook her head. “He - she’s my friend.”
“For now, yes.”
“Stop it, Seth,” she snapped. “I know you don’t like him and I know you’re worried about me, but I can handle myself. He won’t hurt me. Even if he’d try, I wouldn’t let him.”
She settled back down, pulling her tail free from his grasp and curling it around herself. She layed her chin on her knees and glared in the distance.
He kept quiet.

*******

AN: Yes, this is very much in the future. At least a year after Mordred and Donna meet. I probably just gave away huge spoilers, but hey, I wasn't even trying to write this in order.
Seth is new. He's rachnye - catboy, yup. He and his kind are what happens when fae mess with magic and human and animal DNA, and then decide to interbreed. It'll all probably be explained, sooner or later. You can find a few pictures of him over at nimravid. So far - I like.

Sat, 04 Sep 2004 15:34:20 GMT

Op een saaie avond op een introweekend besloten een mentorzusje en ik voor elkaar twee personages te creëren die we in een romantische situatie moesten zien te krijgen. Mijn mentorzusje had een slechte (en volkomen onjuiste!) indruk van mij, schijnbaar, want ze gaf me de centaur Virella en ork Grimslo, met het idee dat ik haar ook een volkomen onmogelijk stel zou geven (niet dus!).
Dankjewel, Janna.

Nou ja, ik ben maar bij de romantiek begonnen, dus het hele begin moet je er maar bij denken. Grimslo heeft Virella gevraagd haar te helpen bij de een of andere zoektocht, ze is met hem meegegaan en ze zijn nu weer terug in Grimslo's grot, na wekenlang samen gereisd te hebben.

************

Virella keek nerveus om zich heen. Hoe was ze hier terechtgekomen, in deze kille, vochtige grot, alleen?
“Hé, perdwif!”
Ze rilde en sloeg met haar witte staart. Alleen met een ork, dus. De chagrijnigste en beledigendste die ze ooit ontmoet had. En dat alleen omdat ze gezworen had iedereen te helpen die haar om hulp vroeg.
De reis was voorbij, de tocht door het koude Onderland geslaagd, dus wat deed ze in Hermes’ naam nog in deze grot?
“Perdwif!”
Ze draaide zich met een ruk naar hem toe, haar oren plat tegen haar hoofd. “Wat?!”
Grimslo stapte op haar af, een donkere kruik vasthoudend. Met een kortaf gebaar drukte hij het in haar handen. “Drink,” beval hij.
Ze voelde een rilling langs haar ruggegraat lopen bij het horen van zijn diepe stem, en sloot even haar ogen. Toen schudde ze haar hoofd en stampte geïrriteerd met een hoef op de grond. Wat bezielde haar? Hij was het lelijkste monster dat ze ooit had ontmoet. Dat hij de enige tweebener was die langer was dan zij, wilde niet zeggen dat hij het effect van een hengst op haar moest hebben. Ze was geen bijzonder keurige merrie, maar relaties tussen verschillende soorten gingen haar te ver. Of dat tegenwoordig nou discriminerend was of niet.

Grimslo keek haar met een zuur gezicht aan. “Ik snap niet dat jullie paarden niet gewoon stil kunnen staan. Is het werkelijk zo moelijk?” Hij zond een duistere blik naar de kruik. “Drink je nog wat? Anders mag je ‘m ook wel teruggeven.”
Virella rolde met haar ogen en nam een slok. Met gevoel voor drama stampte ze nogmaals met haar achterbeen en sloeg voor extra nadruk met haar staart.
De ork sloeg zijn stevig uitziende armen over elkaar. “Ik hoop dat dat betekent dat je het lekker vindt.”
Om eerlijk te zijn was de wijn van goede kwaliteit, maar ze was niet van plan dat toe te geven.
Ze was met hem meegegaan omdat ze hoopte dat hij haar zou bedanken, maar nu begon ze te beseffen dat ze daar niet op hoefde te wachten.
Misschien was het arrogant om bedankt te willen worden, maar na alles wat ze voor hem had gedaan, alles wat ze had doorstaan…
Ze had hem op haar rug gedragen. Een ork. Een bedankje was wel het minste dat ze verdiende.
De kruik werd met een ruk uit haar handen getrokken. Grimslo draaide zich al om en liep weg, in zichzelf mopperend. “En daar verspil je dan goede wijn aan. Ondankbaar wif. Maar ja, an wif est an wif, obh sie nu perd est obh nikh.”
Virella sprong naar voren, plotseling ziedend. “Jij – jij ork,” riep ze woest, en greep hem bij zijn schouder. Haar witblonde krullen zwiepten om haar hoofd toen ze hem heen en weer schudde. “Ik ben ondankbaar? Besef je wel wat ik allemaal voor je heb gedaan? Ik heb zeven colleges gemist. Zeven. Ik mag Zeus op mijn knieën danken als ik niet ontslagen word. En dat voor een ork!”
Grimslo sloeg haar hand weg en draaide zich vol naar haar toe, zijn donkere ogen bijna zwart van woede. “Heb het lef niet op me neer te kijken, perdwif! Ik heb alleen genomen wat je me aangeboden hebt en ik heb je respectvol behandeld, maar je blijft op me neerkijken.” Zijn imposante borstkas bewoog snel op en neer en ze schudde haar hoofd, geïrriteerd. Dat ze zich daar nu druk om kon maken.
“Je bent een ork,” zei ze, vals. “Je steelt, je liegt, je bedriegt, en daarbij ben je gruwelijk lelijk. Waarom zou ik niet op je neerkijken?”
Ze was nog dichter op hem afgestapt in een onbewuste poging dreigend over te komen, maar nu realiseerde ze zich dat dat geen slim plan was geweest. Ze voelde zijn hete adem op haar gezicht, rook de zoete wijn en een meer dierlijke ondertoon die van hemzelf moest zijn. Van dichtbij was hij nog indrukwekkender – hij was werkelijk de enige tweebener die haar niet het idee gaf dat hij voor haar zou onderdoen in alleen lichaamsmassa al. Zijn grijsbruine huid spande over strakgespannen, opbollende spieren, zijn donkere ogen boorden zich in de hare…
In een vloeiend gebaar trok hij haar naar zich toe – ze stommelde naar voren, zo uit balans gebracht dat ze bijna over haar eigen hoeven struikelde – en kuste haar vol op haar mond.
Tot haar schaamte was haar eerste gedachte niet “Bah, ork!” of zelfs niet “Zeg, dat kan niet zomaar!”
Integendeel, elke bewuste gedachte leek uit haar hoofd gevaagd. Alleen fysieke sensaties drongen tot haar door – warm, zacht – nee, hard, glad –
Met een grom duwde ze hem van haar af en gaf hem een klinkende slag op zijn wang.
Hij keek haar aan, een zeldzame grijns op zijn gezicht. “Zoveel moeite heb ik nog nooit moeten doen om een wif bij de billen te grijpen.”

Hemlock: Mordred and his parents. Sorry.

Fri, 13 Aug 2004 00:19:42 GMT

The boy was too young for this, much too young.
She looked at her son, trying to keep the growing desperation at bay. How could they go on like this? How could she ever have thought she could do this?

“Father?” the boy asked, his voice tiny. She winced at the word.
Her brother turned around at the sound of the boy’s voice. Even that secular movement screamed of suppressed violence and he glared, as he always did, lately. This world had not been good to him.
“What?” he all but growled, his voice rough from the stimulants he used too often. If only she would be able to keep him from that, maybe then they could try to be a family.
She laughed hoarsely at her silly thoughts. The problem had always been their being a family.

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but before he could ask his question he twitched and fell down, spasms raking his small body.
“No, not here, not in front of him,” she whispered frantically, jumping to the child in a flurry of hair and clothes, shooting an apologetic smile at his father. He shoved her aside. She fell down heavily but scrambled to her feet, anxiously keeping her eyes on him.
He was staring at his son as the child lay there, his thin body still shaking.
“What – is this nonsense still going on?” The man shivered almost as violently as his son, barely containing his aggression, all but falling apart before her eyes. Once he had been so strong, so secure. Once only her presence had been enough to calm him. This world had broken them beyond repair.
She shot a glance at her son – son? No longer. The magic that lay within his body had changed his form once more. He was so young that it was barely noticable when he wore clothes, but his slightly bigger eyes, the tiny change in his chin and jaw, the slightly more feminine tilt of his chin betrayed him.

“Brahan!” the man shouted and fell upon his child, no longer able to control himself – if he had even been trying. “I will have this no longer!”
She turned away from the man beating the boy – no, girl, truly a girl now. The child was tainted, her magic unpure; but she was still their child, and the woman could not bear watching her being punished.
She could not do this. This world had taken her and her brother and broken them into little pieces, shattered glass on hateful, iron-bearing earth – she could not watch that happen to her son. She would not.

Ignoring her child’s almost inaudible moans, the dull sound of his father’s fists hitting fragile bone and flesh, “Mother, please –”, she breathed in deeply and walked away.
She would not.

**********************

Ahaha, look at who I gave a horrible past. Sorry for the angst.
This was originally written for Father's Day, because I'm just that recalcitrant. So yes, that is Mordred.

Don't worry, Mordred's nameless mother will probably return. I don't think she could make it on her own, nor do I think her brother would let her get away with leaving.

Crossposted to their_world. That notion would ofcourse only be relevant if aurenfaie and maruchina would ever post anything. *looks sternly in their general direction*

Hemlock: Mordred and ze vampires

Thu, 15 Jul 2004 10:23:35 GMT

She had not been fast enough.
Three men, no, four, one coming up behind her. How could she have let herself get trapped like this? Worse yet – how could she have let herself get trapped like this, wearing a much too short skirt and and awkwardly tight top, with only a purse for a weapon? What had she been thinking when she got dressed?
Ah yes, that’s right. She hadn’t been thinking. Instead she had let Donna talk her into dressing her up, saying that she should not hide such a gorgeous body in such wide clothes. Donna knew her well enough to know that a bit of sucking up and a few flattering comments were enough to make Mordred do whatever the hell the girl wanted, especially if it would lead to such pleasing results. Mordred was not interested in men, in this form or the other, but she got a kick out of leading them on, flirting with them and disappearing when she got what she wanted.
It had not for a moment occurred to her that perhaps she was more vulnerable as a female. She had not for a minute worried that the different form, with the wider hips and heavy breasts, threw off her balance enough without the help of awkward shoes and a skirt that would not really let her move.
She was still quick, she was still strong, and she still had a big ass knife; but she looked vulnerable now, and weak. She looked like prey.

“Well, well, well,” the man closest to her said. “What have we got here?” He slid up to her, his body moving in such a lazy, languid way that it was almost hypnotic.
Her head snapped up. Vampire! She really wasn’t at her best in this form, feeling too awkward and uncomfortable in this relatively new body to pay enough attention to her environment. She could not afford to be so careless, especially not at this hour.
“That has got to be the lamest bad guy line ever,” she drawled, looking at the vampire from under lowered eyelids. Her weapon of choice; arrogance. She had bluffed her way out of more dangerous situations.
The man – he looked hardly old enough to be called that, but if looks ever were deceiving, it was with vampires – stepped back, holding his hands up in an almost defensive gesture as he grinned in the direction of his group. “Whoa, boys, she's a tough girl.” His gaze snapped back to her, grinning wide enough to flash his fangs.
She was not fazed. “Look at the ears, fangboy,” she said coolly. “Do you think this wise?”
She should have remembered that her hair was hanging over her ears to keep them from sight. Another vampire, taller and darker than the one who had first spoken, sauntered over to her, his pale hand reaching out to touch her cheek. Cold! She jerked back, but he stepped after her, all but pressing his body against hers. His cold fingers trailed from her cheek to her hair, wiping her unruly curls behind her ear. She shivered as his fingers slid along the point, and he grinned. The look on his face was entirely too dark and hungry. She slapped his hand away, stepping back again, and glared at him.
He smirked. “Oh yes, guys. We’ve got a fairy bitch here.”
“I’m telling you only once: Don’t.” Even in this form she managed to look dangerous, but the vampires weren’t fazed. She did not mind too much. Their hubris was going to be their downfall.
The first vampire moved in front of her, the taller man stepping aside without a word. It was a highly submissive action and Mordred couldn’t help but utter a sharp laugh at their animalistic nature. The vampire shot her a look, his light blue eyes almost confused. She rolled her eyes.
Before the man could do anything, she stepped closer to him. “So you want to bite me, huh?” she said, her voice just the right degree of husky. “So you want to drink my blood?”
He didn’t nod like an idiot or grin stupidly, like most men did when she suggested anything in that voice. Good for him. He did lean in closer, his nostrils flaring, and she knew he was smelling her, smelling the blood in her veins. Suppressing a disgusted sound she pressed her body against his, a hand trailing down his chest. He nuzzled her neck.
With a quick, fluid movement she had grabbed her knife from her purse and pressed it against the vampire’s crotch. “How about you bleed first?” she said, a pleasant smile on her face. It was entirely too dramatic a comment, but she felt she was allowed that. Was there anything not dramatic about this scene, pretty girl being attacked by gang of vampires? A very gorgeous girl with big, dark eyes and full, pouty lips and legs that seemed to go on forever, with a slender waist and a full bossom and long, flowing – okay, maybe not long, flowing locks, but everything else was correct. The only thing missing was the knight in shining armor to save her.
The vampire held very still, just as attached to the family jewels as she had expected him to be. “You can’t kill me with that,” he said. His voice was steady and cool. Good for him.
“No, but do you want to find out exactly how much this will hurt?” she said, still smiling pleasantly.
Before the man could answer, a voice spoke up from the dark. “Let the lady go.”
The vampire, temporarily distracted, looked over his shoulder. Mordred kept her grip on his shirt and the knife and shot a death glare in the direction of the speaker.
A man stepped from the shadows, glaring at the vampires. He did not have a weapon, or he had hidden it well. He was obviously very happy with himself, which meant that Mordred automatically did not like him. “Oh goody, a hero,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
He shot her a confused glance, but was apparently very set to save her. “Let the lady go, I said,” he repeated, stepping closer.
“Fuck off, boy,” Mordred snapped, very unlady-like. “I can handle myself.”
This, too, seemed to confuse him. Nevertheless he dropped down to a crouch and tried to keep a look on the vampires, who had started to circle him. He was a Tough Man, apparently. She rolled her eyes, but had to give him points for not flinching when three vampires jumped him at once.
The vampire she was holding kept shooting glances at the men behind him and then back at her. She poked him with the knife, bringing his attention back to her face.
“Look, do you want to drink my blood or not?” she demanded. Before he even had a chance of replying, she pushed him off her and into the fight. “Why do I even have this knife?!” she growled, turned on her heels, all but fell over and stalked off in the direction of her apartment. No one bothered to come after her, and the sounds of the fight were slowly drowned out by normal city noise. Or wait – was that a scream?
She smirked and kept on walking.

******************

Mordred is way too pleased with himself. Herself. This started out seriously enough, but no, she had to go and be sarcastic. Okay, so she's always sarcastic and four young vampires would never really scare her, but still. Also, yes, she is an evil bitch.

I'm not sure if this is canon - I don't know if we have vampires in this universe, or not. I just read too much Anita Blake and wanted to do something vampiry.

Mary Sue test Donna/Ree/Mordred

Tue, 06 Jul 2004 13:46:40 GMT

The Name
+ Is the character named after you (this includes your first, middle, and last names, and any nicknames or online names you use)? [20 points]
No for all three

+ Is the character's name an unusual spelling of a more common word or name? [3 points]
No for all three.

+ Is the character's name a noun or adjective not normally used as a name? [3 points]
*shakes head* Mordred might not be a common name and Ree is short for an even more uncommon name, but they’re doing that on purpose. ‘sides, the names are not nouns or adjectives.

+ Does the character's name contain unnecessary apostrophes or other punctuation? (e.g. M'chelle, Gloria-Angelica, etc.) [4 points]
Nope.

+ Does the character have more than one first, middle, or last name, without reason? [3 points]
Donna doesn’t even have a last name and Mordred and Ree don’t even want to tell me their real names, let alone middle or last names.

+ Does the character have a name you really, really like? [1 point]
+ Is it Raven? [3 points]
+ Is it Hunter? [5 points]
Hum, not specifically. I like Ree, but I would never want it for myself or my children. I don’t like Mordred (Mordred: “Hey!”
The name, Mordred, not you.) and I’m kind of neutral to Donna. I chose names that fit my characters, not necessarily names that I love. That doesn’t mean I’ll never like the name, though.

+ Does the character's name describe her/his personality? (e.g. Tristan means sad, Darcy means dark, Charity means charity, etc.) [2 points]
Eh, Ree’s full name does. Rionach. But she chose that name for herself, it was not given to her. And she hides the name (you’re not supposed to know it’s Rionach), so I’m not giving her points for this.
I wouldn’t know what Mordred really means (something with sea, but other than that? *shrugs*). Same for Donna.

+ Does the character have the name she/he has because she/he is or corresponds to a mythological figure (e.g. Oberon, Adonis, Iblis, the archangel Michael, etc.)? [1 point]
*laughs* No. People might think so for Mordred, but he chose that name because the irony of it amuses him. Think of Mordred (son of king Arthur, not mine)’s parentage.

+ Is the character's name just generally unusual in relation to the time or place where she/he lives or grew up? [1 point]
Uhm, Ree and Mordred’s real names are perfectly normal for where they were born. The names they chose are usual enough in these modern times, which is when they have chosen them.
Okay, Mordred isn’t really common, but it’s not freakish, either.
Donna’s is as normal as they go.

+ Does the character have a nickname or pseudonym? [1 point]
+ Is it a "dangerous" nickname (e.g. Death Dealer, Crimson Fury, etc.)? [3 points]
Uh, no. Not that I’m aware of. Although people call Ree ‘the cold bitch’ behind her back *grins* But that’s hardly a name she chooses to go by.

+ Is the character's name foreign, even though the character isn't? [1 point]
They’re all as foreign as they come. But no, Mordred and Ree chose names that sound American enough. Okay, Ree’s full name isn’t American, but Celtic is closer to her own language than English is.

+ Does the character have a name you have considered naming a child or pet? [1 point]
No.

Appearance
+ Is the character a teenager or in her/his early twenties? [2 points]
Uhm, Donna is probably somewhere in her twenties. 2 points for her.

+ Does the character appear to be a teenager or in her/his twenties, despite being older? [3 points]
Well, that’s the tough thing about fey – you never quite know how old they are. Physically, you can’t really tell. Their age shows more in their pose, their way of speaking, their way of thinking.
Donna looks younger to human eyes because she’s a faun. A wood troll. They are really thin with long legs and arms and hardly an AA-cup and with her more elven traits, at first glance she looks like a young teen (I’m talking 12 here, not 16). I’m not giving her points for this, though, because it would be Mary Sueish to have her appear young but still sexual attractive, not so young that those thoughts would be illegal.
Mordred... well, he’s quite young for an elf, though he’s nearing old age in human counting. Elves do grow old, only much slower than humans and it might not be their skin and hair that shows it. Since he’s still so young for one of their kind, He looks somewhere in his twenties. He will for a very long time.
Eh, Mordred, you’re getting the points *grins*
Ree looks somewhere in her early thirties, I would guess. She’s really a lot older than the other two. She ain’t getting the points.

+ Is the character, or does the character appear, the age you consider ideal? [2 points]
Donna: *shakes her head*
Uhm, sorry Mordred, you’re getting the points again. You’re too close to what I consider an ideal age.
Mordred: *mutters under his breath*
Ree isn’t.

+ Do you consider the character highly attractive? [3 points]
*laughs* Tough one. I don’t lust after my characters, because... well, they’re mine. I created them. Finding them attractive would seem almost incestuous. However, if I were to meet Mordred IRL, I would probably find him attractive. A bit thin and too bonkers for my tastes, but attractive. Eh, fine, I’ll give him the points...
Ree and Donna are female, so no.

+ Are one or more other characters attracted to her/him? [1 point]
+ Even though they are involved with someone else? [1 point]
+ In defiance of sexual orientation? [6 points]
Donna: “Don’t mock me like that, please.”
Uhm, it’s safe to say that most humans aren’t attracted to someone so fey as Donna. Ree isn’t into girls and Mordred is too preoccupied with Ree to pay her that kind of attention, so no.
Mordred… hmm.
Mordred: “Ofcourse they are.”
I have to agree with him, again. Ree isn’t attracted to him at first sight. She finds him too thin, too short, too pointy, too girlish. Also, his hair just sucks for an elf. I’m not even going into his highly unwanted, stalker-like behaviour. But some way or another he manages to make her attracted to him. She doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want him.
Donna is attracted to him as well, when she meets his male side. So damn, I’m going to have to give him the point. They don’t do it in defiance of sexual orientation, though.
Mordred is obviously attracted to Ree, so she’s getting the point as well.

+ Is an otherwise chaste or stoic character immediately attracted to her/him? [3 point]
Uh, no. *laughs* Ree is very chaste, but she is definitely not attracted to him at once. Takes a whole lot of bugging before she does, and even longer to have her realise it.

+ Does the character have an unusual eye color, or otherwise exceptional eyes? [2 points]
+ And are these eyes a color that does not occur in nature? [3 point]
+ And will they have something to do with the plot? [1 point]
Mordred: No. Very normal for a human, pretty normal for an elf.
Ree: Very normal.
Donna: Uh, well – no. Actually, no. Most fauns have darker eyes than her, browner, but her eyes are normal enough for both faun and elf.

+ Does the character have eyes that somehow reflect hidden depths or experience or sorrow? [4 points]
*laughs* No. Mordred won’t let anything like that show in his eyes. Ree’s are as blank as they come. Donna is too young and too optimistic for hidden sorrow. That doesn’t mean she’s had an easy life – she hasn’t – but it doesn’t show on the outside.

+ Does the character have an appearance unsuited to the time or place (e.g. perfect hair prior to the invention of shampoo, a woman wearing pants in 1805, etc.)? [5 points]
No.

+ Does the character get a disproportionate amount of physical description compared to the rest of the characters? [2 points]
Eh, not in their own perspective. When I write from Mordred’s p.o.v., Ree will be getting the most description. When I’m writing from Ree’s, Mordred will. It depends where the character’s focus lies.

+ Does the character have unusual or exceptional hair, or does her/his hair get a disproportionate amount of description compared to that of the other characters? [2 points]
Ree’s is very normal for an elf and for a human. Mordred’s is kind of rough for an elf’s, but normal for a human. Donna’s is normal enough.

+ Is the character a fashion plate (this applies to any style of dress, from preppie to goth to Western to Elvish, and so on)? [2 points]
No.

+ Does the character dress in a manner you find particularly attractive, sexy, or cool? [1 point]
+ Even though it's illogical for the character to dress this way (for monetary reasons, for instance, or because it interferes with her/his job)? [3 points]
*coughs* To be honest, I like all their styles. Ree dresses in a rather classical, stylish way, with long skirts and nice shirts. I like that. Not illogical for her, though.
Mordred... well, he wears whatever he likes at that moment. From normal jeans and T-shirts to gothic to classy. I like some of those looks, not all. He loves showing off, though, so he often wears what the ladies like to see.
Donna’s style is fun, but she wears it for a reason. She wears bright colors, lots of layers and patterns and different textures to hide her more inhuman traits. She uses every trick in the book to make her arms and legs look shorter, hide her tail and make her look bigger. Basically she wears everything that human girls wouldn’t because it’d make them look fat.

+ Is the character ever described as "thin enough to be anorexic," where this is intended as a compliment? [1 point]
No. Donna is thin enough to be anorexic, but that’s definitely not a compliment. Though for her race, she’s rather big. *grins*

[Subtract 5 points if the character is overweight for the full duration of the story. "Buxom" does not count.]
Sorry. I think Donna deserves this for being too thin to be even remotely attractive to a normal human, though.

Character
+ Does the character have a clone or identical twin? [7 points]
No. Well – Mordred is a complicated case, but since his twin died in the womb, he ain’t getting the points.

+ Is the character related to royalty? [4 points]
Ree is getting these points. Her royal blood is worth nothing in this world, though. It’s just the reason she’s so arrogant. Sidhe are arrogant, royal sidhe .. well, you know Ree. And to think her banishment and this world humbled her a bit.

+ Is the character rich or well-to-do, although she/he doesn't work? [2 points]
Eh, Ree’s rich enough, but she works hard for that. Mordred and Donna aren’t.

+ Is the character the last surviving member of a family/clan/race/species/etc.? [4 points]
Nope, sorry.

+ Was the character banished from her/his family/clan/tribe/country/etc.? [2 points]
Uhm, yes, for all of them. But that’s true for all the fey on Earth – they won’t come to this shitty ass world unless they’re banished. Banishment is a worse punishment than death.

+ Does the character have amnesia? [4 points]
+ But still retain a trinket of some kind from her/his past? [4 points]
No for all of them.

+ Is the character a minority, a woman, or a member of a lower caste, who succeeds or makes a contribution in spite of her/his social disadvantage? [3 points]
Eh dammit, two women but they don’t do anything that’s special because of that. All fey, which is a minority in this world.
Ree wants to do something about the social disadvantage of fey, but it’ll take her years before she’ll make even small improvements.

+ Does the character have an angsty childhood, or an angsty past? [1 point]
Dammit, they all do *grins* I’m sorry, but it’s just not possible to be either a young fey without magic in this world (Mordred and Donna) or get kicked out of Faerie for doing something you thought was right (and when you’re so arrogant that you had never thought you would walk among the very filth of the universe – Ree) and not have a somewhat angsty past.
Donna’s a rather optimistic person, though, not really ridden by said angsty past. Mordred pretends it never happened and you won’t see much angst from him, either. Ree’s too proud to even admit she’s been afraid.
So eh – points, okay... But I don’t think they deserve it.

+ And does she/he angst about it during the story? (Angsting does not necessarily include simply relating events to an interested third party.)[2 points]
No, no and no.

+ Was the character an illegitimate birth? [1 point]
*glances at Mordred and Donna* Eh, yeah. Because a brother and a sister having a child together is disgusting and a faun and an elf to have a child together is disgusting, as well. They oughta be ashamed of themselves.

+ Was the character ever abducted? [1 point]
None of them.

+ Was the character abandoned by her/his caregivers? [2 point]
Eh, Donna never had caregivers (her mother doesn’t count). Mordred ran away from his. Ree was raised relatively normal.

+ Was the character born into slavery, or forced into slavery or prostitution? [1 point]
No to all of them.

+ Was the character born/raised in extreme poverty? [1 point]
Yeah, for Donna and Mordred. Hey, they lived on the streets.

+ Did the character run away from home? [1 point]
Uh, Mordred had no home so he couldn’t have run from it.

+ Was the character ever the sole survivor of a calamity? [2 point]
No. No. No.

+ Did the character ever suffer physical abuse [2 points]
Yes to all of them, dammit. Hey, who doesn’t in this world? Is there anybody who hasn’t been beaten up at least once in their lives? Or at least hit with the intention to really hurt?

+ Did the character ever suffer sexual abuse [2 points]
[Add another point if it was rape.]
Two points for Ree. I’m not sure about the rape – she had to consent, but it was against her will.
Donna won’t tell me, so I’ll give her 1 point. I don’t think Mordred has.

+ Does the character feel guilty about something terrible that happened in the past? [1 point]
Uhm... no. *grins*

+ Even despite overwhelming evidence that it wasn't her/his fault? [2 points]
No.

+ Does the character consider her/his beauty/talent/skill/etc. a curse? [5 points]
Mordred loves his beauty. Ree takes it for granted. Donna doesn’t really think she’s attractive, and to humans, she isn’t. They appreciate their own skills because they worked hard to get them at that level. So no.

>b?More on Character
+ Is the character unusually accomplished for her/his age/species/etc.? [2 points] </b>
*laughs* No for all three.

+ Is the character fluent in more than two languages? [1 point]
Ree is. Obviously. She was kicked out of Faerie when she was an adult, so she knew how to speak that language and she learned how to speak English. She’s got a knack for languages.
Ofcourse, if the makers of this quiz hadn’t been English, maybe they’d see it isn’t that unusual to be fluent in more than one language.
Mordred is only fluent in English. So is Donna.

+ Is the character a world traveler? [1 point]
They’re all three not really.

+ Does the character collect things you consider intellectual or cultured? [1 point]
Collect? *blinks* No.

+ Does the character have a faithful pet or animal familiar? [1 point]
+ That isn't a dog, cat, horse, or bird? [3 points]
No. Ree’d like a horse, but that isn’t so easy in a town.

+ Is the character educated despite living in a time or place where education is not widespread? (Ignore this question if your character is a scribe, monk, priest, etc.) [3 points]
No.

+ Is the character consistently irreverent or radical, without repercussions? [1 point]
Uh... *glances at Mordred* There’s repercussions. Though usually he runs before they reach him.

+ Does the character pick up difficult skills easily? [1 point]
I wouldn’t know, they haven’t been trying to pick up difficult skills in a while.

+ Does the character have an amazing singing voice? [3 points]
No. Mordred has the best voice, but he is in no way amazing.

+ Does the character play a musical instrument well? [1 point]
+ Is it guitar? [1 point]
+ Bass? [1 point]
+ Violin? [1 point]
+ Flute? [1 point]
+ Piano? [1 point]
+ Drums? [1 point]
No to all of them. Well, I suppose Ree plays some instruments well, but not in this world.

+ Does the character "just know things"? [2 points]
Ha! No.

+ Does the character have an accent? [1 point]
Ree is very careful not to have one. The other two don’t.

+ Does the character have a major quirk in common with you? [2 points]
Eh, they’re all as stubborn as I am, probably. I hate writing non-stubborn people *grins* So okay, they get points.

[Subtract 10 points if the character is significantly mentally handicapped.]
[Subtract 4 points if the character is significantly physically handicapped.]

+ Do animals or children instinctively like the character? [5 points]
[If these animals are only creepy insects, mosquitoes, etc., subtract 2 points instead.]
Let’s see. Donna scares them, Mordred scares them, Ree scares them. Children, that is. Donna looks freakish, Mordred pretends he’ll eat them and Ree is just a cold and mean bitch. Animals are rather neutral about them.

[Subtract 4 points if the character has a significant vice that she/he is dependant on, and that is or would be very hard to break (e.g. alcoholism, smoking, gambling, promiscuous sex, a potentially dangerous sexual fetish, drugs, etc.)]
Eh... Well, Mordred has to accept every challenge presented to him. Does that count? It’s almost cost him his life so often already... I’ll just take 2 points *grins*

+ Does the character have a special birthmark or other marking? [4 points]
Not that I know of.

+ Does the character have a scar or flaw that does not actually detract from her/his beauty (e.g. lips too full, white strip in hair, missing one toe, etc.)? [2 points]
No. Well, Ree has big feet and nobody else probably notices. Mordred’s face is too pointy for some people, others like that. I don’t really know how to answer this question, because this is so much based on personal preference.

+ Does the character have wings (this counts even if she/he is an angel, only has wings sometimes, can't fly, etc.) [10 points]
No, no,no.

+ Is the character considered beautiful/handsome even though her/his looks coincide with a standard of beauty not of the time period or place (e.g. thin when it was considered beautiful to be plump)? [5 points]
Eh – no. They’re all pretty enough in their own ways, even Donna (although she won’t really believe it), but it’s normal enough to find them attractive. Or not.

Work and Play
+ Is the character astonishingly good at something that is not her/his profession? [1 point]
*laughs* Not their profession now? Yes. Ofcourse. Ree’s been many things in the past. So has Mordred. Ofcourse they’re not only good in what’s their profession. I don’t think they deserve points for that, though. But fine, I’ll give it to them. All of them, because Donna’s natural acrobatic skill (think monkey) is obviously not her profession either. Grm.

+ Does the character have any particular skill at which she/he is widely known to be the best or among the best? [6 points]
No to all of them.

+ Does the character have any particular area of study/information/etc. in which she/he is widely known to be the most knowledgeable or among the most knowledgeable? [6 points]
Not widely known, no.

+ Is the character the sole or last practitioner of a particular matial art or magic? [4 points]
No.

+ Is the character one of only two practitioners of a particular matial art or magic, in a master/student relationship? [4 points]
No.

+ Does the character hold your dream job? [3 points]
Ha! No to all of them. I detest the catering industry. I also don’t like killing people.

+ Is the character a female in a role not suited for women in the place/time period (e.g. a female cop before 1900, a female soldier in the US army before 1970, etc.)? [5 points]
No.

+ Is the character a secret agent? [1 point]
+ A double agent? [2 points]
+ And wears high heels or leather? [5 points]
No.

Is the character, or was she/he ever... (add points for all that apply)
+ A model? [1 point]
+ A rock star? [2 points]
+ A film actress/actor? [2 points]
+ A dancer? (This doesn't count if she/he is or was a stripper.) [2 points]
+ A bounty hunter? [2 points]
+ A mercenary? [1 point]
+ An assassin? [1 point]
+ A thief? [2 points]
+ A diviner? [1 point]
+ A hero? [2 points]
+ A starving artist? [2 points]
+ A freelance writer? [1 point]
+ A freelance reporter? [1 point]
+ An explorer? [2 points]
+ A pro-athlete? [1 point]
+ A gymnast? [1 point]
Mordred: *raises hand* “I’ve been an assassin. And a thief. And a stripper.” *grins wickedly*
Ree: “No to all of them.”
Donna: “I’ve been a thief.”

[If your character exists in an otherwise normal universe, add 2 points to her/his score for *each* of the following abilities that your character possesses (with or without the aid of charms, spells, etc.). If, however, possession of these abilities is considered normal in your character's universe, add only one point each.]
+ Teleportation
+ Telepathy
+ Telekinesis
+ Pyrokinesis
+ Prophesy
+ Healing
+ Animal communication
+ Empathy
+ Shapeshifting abilities
+ Invisibility
+ Invulnerability
+ The ability to pass through matter
+ General magic or sorcery
+ Time travel
+ Transdimensional travel or communication
+ Photographic memory
+ The ability to see auras
+ Summoning
+ Power of seduction
+ Super strength or speed
+ Skill in martial arts or hand-to-hand combat
+ Sharp-shooting
+ Sleight of hand or pickpocketing
+ Computer hacking
Mordred: “I shapeshift. Not a will, but I shapeshift. It’s not normal in either Faerie or this world to shift from male to female, so give me the points. Also – very good in martial arts, ofcourse. Muwaha. And ofcourse I can seduce people.” Yeah, but that’s your own charm, not some magical thing or special ability. No points for that.
Ree: “General magic.”
Donna: “I can’t even pickpocket. I can steal things if it’s not too difficult.”

+ Does the character share more than one of your hobbies or interests? [1 point]
Eh, yeah, they share some hobbies/interests with me, but that’s only logical since I’m interested in basically everything. I am definitely not giving them points for this, that’s not fair.

+ And is she/he better at these hobbies or more knowledgeable about these interests than you are? [2 points]
Only a few.

+ Does the character excel in a field you wish you excelled in? [1 point]
I wouldn’t mind to excel in either of their hobbies/interests/skills, because I’d love to excel in anything. It isn’t as though I wish I had their talent. I don’t.

+ Does the character have the same taste in music as you have? [1 point]
+ In books? [1 point]
+ In movies? [1 point]
[Add another 5 points if you said yes to all three.]
They all don’t really watch movies, nor read a lot of books. Donna likes a bit of the music I do, but not much. Same for Mordred. Ree’s taste in music is weird at the best.

+ Does the character have what you consider better or more refined taste than you have in music? [1 point]
+ In books? [1 point]
+ In movies? [1 point]
No.

+ Does the character have the same religious or spiritual beliefs as you? [2 points]
[Subtract 5 points if her/his beliefs are in direct opposition to yours for the full duration of the story.]
Uhm, kind of. There’s a logical reason for that, though – in their universe, there are no gods. I could’ve created active gods, but I haven’t. Donna, seeing that she grew up in our world, is an agnostic. Ree lost all faith in her gods when she was banished. Mordred is too cynical for anything.

Immortals, Gods, Fay, etc.
(This section only applies if your character is immortal, or of a species other than human.)
+ Is the character old, even by the standards of his race? [3 points]
No.

+ Was the character present at more than one earthly historical event? [6 points]
No.

+ Because she/he instigated it? [2 points]
No.

+ Was the character ever the inspiration for classical art, poetry, etc. (e.g. she was the Mona Lisa, or Shakespeare wrote a sonnet for her)? [8 points]
No.

+ Is the character the only immortal or non-human in the story? [3 points]
No.

+ Was the character made immortal, etc., by divine intervention? [1 point]
No.

+ Is the character a crossbreed of species? [1 point]
[Subtract 3 points if one of these species is goblin, slime monster, etc.]
+ And does the she/he have the benefits of both species? [3 points]
+ And the drawbacks of neither? [8 points]
[Subtract 3 points if the character has no benefits from either species.]
Donna – yes. Minus three because she is half troll. She has benefits and drawbacks of both species. She is heavier and taller than a normal faun, so she can’t fly through trees as they can. She’s kind of different from their normal taste.
She has a tail and is majorly out of proportion, so she looks like a freak by human and sidhe standards. Well – not a freak for elves, but certainly not attractive. However, those limbs are a physical advantage for almost everything else – she can climb pretty much anything, except for vertical walls, she can use her tail to hold things or hang on. I’ll just give her one point...
+ Does the character angst about being immortal? [2 points]
No. They really don’t pay so much attention to it. Ofcourse they are not truly immortal.

The Plot
+ Have all of the other characters heard of her/him? [2 points]
Ha! No.

+ Do all of the other characters end up liking/respecting/fearing her/him? [3 points]
No.

+ Do all of the other characters like/respect/fear her/him immediately? [4 points]
No. *laughs*

+ Does the character reform a villainous character? [3 points]
+ And does the villain become evil again after the character dies or leaves, but retain some last vestige of goodness from his/her interaction with the character? [2 points]
Hehehe, no.

+ Does the character fall in (reciprocated) love with, or have sex with, a character you would like to fall in love with or have sex with? [3 points]
Uh – to be honest, Mordred would be a bit too crazy and high-maintenance for me. So no.

+ Is the character someone you would like to fall in love with or have sex with? [3 points]
No.

+ Does the character effect a major change in her/his love interest to make said love interest a more appropriate partner? [3 points]
Eh? No.

+ Does the character die a romantic death (e.g. suicide, execution, battle wounds, broken heart, etc.)? [5 points]
Ahaha. No. No deaths yet.

+ Does the character die in her/his beloved's arms? [6 points]
I hope not.

+ Does the character's beloved die in her/his arms? [5 points]
No deaths.

+ Does the character sacrifice her/himself for love? [4 points]
No deaths!

+ Does the character sacrifice her/himself so that two other characters can be together? [4 points]
No deaths.

+ Did you cry while writing any scene involving the character? [10 points]
Ha! No.

Your Character and You
+ Do you draw the character, or ask other people to draw her/him for you? [2 points]
Yes. I like to form my characters completely. I don’t think this deserves points.

+ Is the character someone you would want to be friends with, assuming she/he would be receptive to friendship with you? [2 points]
Ofcourse. I would always want to be friends with interesting people, and I wouldn’t write about uninteresting people.

+ Do you think everyone who reads the story should like the character? [2 points]
No or yes. Depends on their interest. Actually, I would love it if people would hate some characters of mine.

+ Do you take any negative feedback about the character as a personal affront? [4 points]
If it’s negative feedback about the way I wrote them, then yes. That’s my fault. If it’s negative about their personalities, if they just don’t like the characters for the persons they are, then no. I take that as a compliment. Apparently I created a character complete enough to be annoying to people.

+ Do you have a character journal for her/him? [4 points]
No.

+ Do you ever wish you could be the character? [8 points]
No.

Finished? All right, tally up your points. Here are the scores:
0-20 points: The Anti-Sue. Your character is the very antithesis of a Mary-Sue. Why are you even taking this test?
21-30 points: The Non-Sue. Your character is a well-developed, balanced person, and is almost certainly not a Mary Sue. Congratulations!
31-40 points: Borderline-Sue. Your character is cutting it close, and you may want to work on the details a bit, but you're well on your way to having a lovely original character. Good work.
41-50 points: Mary-Sue. Your character needs some work in order to be believable. But despair not; you should still be able to salvage her with a little effort. Don't give up.
51-60 points: Über-Sue. You've got one hell of a Mary-Sue on your hands here, and it's not going to be easy to set things right. But do your best. There may be hope for you yet.
61 points or more: Irredeemable-Sue. You're going to have to start over, my friend. I know you want to keep her, but no. Just no.

Mordred: 30
Ree: 23
Donna: 23
Phew, within the safety ranks. Mordred is cutting it close, but he’s still within the safety ranks. Hnyeah.

Hemlock: Donna/Mordred first meeting

Wed, 02 Jun 2004 20:39:57 GMT

Donna glanced around, nervously pushing her ash blond hair behind a long, pointy ear. She felt awkward without a hat to cover her tell-tale ears up, but she had purposely come without one. This was Hemlock, the one place where she wouldn’t have to hide her less human traits. Technically speaking.
A tall, darkskinned man winked at her, smiling broadly. It took her a while to realise that the smile was too broad, his teeth entirely too big and pointy. She tried to smile back at him, but her face would only grimace. “Right,” she muttered to herself, suddenly not so sure this was a good idea. She could always cover up her ears and live among humans the rest of her life. Did she really want to step into the fey underworld?
Sure, the elves seemed pretty enough from a distance, but she realised all too well that looks were deceiving and she was not so naive to think that they were the only fey on Earth. The exiles from Faerie were monsters and outcasts and if you looked at it like that, the fact that she was of their blood really was not good enough a reason to go through with this.
She chewed on the insides of her cheeks. It would be nice to have a job once, though, a real job and a real apartment and who else would hire someone so obviously fey as her? Sure, on the streets she did a fairly decent job of hiding it, but she couldn’t think of a job that wouldn’t require her losing the hat and colorful clothes. There was no way she could hide her ears, tail or disproportionate limbs in industrial clothing. One look at her would send customers screaming.
She grimaced. She was hardly the right person to be talking of monsters.

You’re new,” a voice said in her ear.
She twirled around and found two dark, beautiful eyes looking at her intently. Standing behind her was a tall and slender woman, her face sharp and pointy and half hidden behind a wild, shoulderlength mane of brown hair. She irritatedly pushed a semi-curly lock behind an ear, showing the small but unmistakable point. An elf.
“Am I that obvious?” Donna grinned sheepishly.
“Well, I don’t think the humans noticed,” the woman said. Her voice was low and rather melodical.
Donna glanced around, surprised. “Are there any humans here?”
“My point being.”
Donna looked uncertainly at the other. “Do you by any chance work here? I’m kind of looking for a job.”
The woman raised one perfect eyebrow and smiled slowly. “I don’t work here,” she said, putting an amicable hand on Donna’s shoulder. “But I can bring you to someone who does. What’s your name, girl?”
Donna shot her a relieved smile. “Donna. And that’d be great, thanks!” She let herself be led away and completely missed the small, wicked grin that touched the elf’s lips for a second before vanishing into the broader, friendlier smile of a helpful and nice person.

“Just wait here, I’ll be right back,” the woman called over her shoulder and disappeared back into the main hall of the club, closing the door behind her.
Donna glanced about the small and practically empty room, keeping herself from pacing by hooking one leg around the other. Her tail was squished annoyingly between her legs and a trouser leg and she squirmed a bit, curling the end around her ankle, trying to find a more comfortable position without removing the appendage from its hiding place. She didn’t want her potential employers to walk in and find how inhuman she was just yet.
This was it. She was actually going to have a job interview. It would be nice if she weren’t this nervous, but she couldn’t do much about it. Too much depended on how this would turn out.

The door opened behind her and she turned around. The woman from before, the elf, had entered the room again, but she was still alone. Before Donna could question her the woman pounced at her, holding a small but deadly looking knife that was aimed at her throat. Donna eeped and jumped back, stumbling and almost falling, and then flung herself at the door. The woman slammed it close before she could make it and Donna had to dive out of her reach. Panicked, she poked around with her tail, trying to find the hole cut in the back of her pants. She was too unbalanced with her tail restricted in its movements.
The elf was fast, faster than she had expected, but not faster than her. Finally she had found the hole and her tail lashed out, providing the counterbalance she needed. She made a quick feint and a quicker dive and then she had floored the woman, knocking the knife out of her hands in the process. She scrambled for the weapon, knowing she was much too light to succesfully pin anybody. Luckily it had not fallen too far away and she grabbed it and put it to the woman’s throat in one fluid motion. In her panicky state she pressed too hard and blood started to well up around the tip of the knife. The woman, who had been about to move, tilted her head back and lay perfectly still, regarding her with wide, dark eyes.
“What the hell was that about?!” Donna demanded, panting. She did not dare to move the knife even the slightest bit. The elf was more dangerous than she looked and Donna knew that if the slightest movement on the elf’s part would be anything but lethal to her, the woman would kick her off and go for the knife herself.
“That’s iron,” the woman said, her voice breathy.
“All the better,” Donna said grimly. “I won’t let you go before you swear not to hurt me or kill me in anyway.” She paused, looking at the tiny drops of sweat that appeared on the elf’s forehead. There was a distinct scent of something organic burning and under the sound of the elf’s superficial breathing she could hear a faint sissing noise. “Also, you will tell me everything I want to know. You will not leave me before you have answered my questions.”
“Sure.”
Donna narrowed her eyes. “Do you swear it?”
“I swear by Faerie and Earth that I will not hurt you or kill you and that I will not leave you before I’ve answered any questions you might have,” the woman repeated in one breath. “Now let me go!”
Donna pulled the hand with the knife back and was immediately knocked off the elf’s body. She rolled over an stood up, locking her eyes on the elf. The woman was standing on the other side of the small room, holding her chin high, carefully touching her throat with her fingers. She glared viciously at Donna, who caught a glimpse of a red, ragged wound under the other’s fingers and chewed on the insides of her cheeks guiltily.
“Ask your damned questions so I can leave,” the woman snapped, turning away from Donna’s stare.
“What the hell was that about?” Donna asked again, keeping her stare fixed on the elf’s back. “And who the hell are you, anyway?” She finally noticed that her tail was swishing behind her and she curled it around her waist protectively.
“I’m Mordred,” the elf offered, still glowering.
“Mordred?” Donna repeated, confused. “That’s not a girl’s name.”
“Donna?” the elf shot back, turning around to look pointedly at Donna’s practically flat chest. “That’s not a boy’s name.”
“I’m not a boy,” Donna snapped indignantly.
Mordred raised an eyebrow, smirking haughtily. “Really? Could’ve fooled me.”
Donna snarled at her. “I’m not a-” She paused, looking at the elf in confusion. “Wait, are you telling me you’re not really a woman?”
“I sure as hell look like one, don’t I,” Mordred deadpanned.
“You’re just trying to confuse me, aren’t you.”
Mordred gave her a searching gaze. “Well, you catch on quickly enough.”
“What the hell was that thing with the knife about?” Donna repeated, twirling the weapon around in her hands, but keeping her eyes on the woman. She did not feel comfortable holding the iron object, but she felt even less comfortable with the possibility of the elf not keeping her word and snatching the knife if she let go of it. Besides, as long as she kept her fingers off the blade and only touched the wooden hilt, she should be fine for now. It was not as if she was going to keep the thing.
“Dagger,” Mordred scolded, breaking her train of thought.
Donna rolled her eyes. “Dagger. Stop avoiding the question.”
Mordred crossed her arms and looked at Donna down her narrow, pointy nose. “I need your blood,” she finally said, grudgingly.
Donna frowned. “What for? Why mine?”
“A spell,” Mordred answered curtly. “And it wasn’t specifically yours, you just were conveniently alone and obviously a newcomer to this place. Nobody would miss you.”
“That’s always nice to know,” Donna muttered darkly. “Do you even know anyone who could possibly get me a job?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Mordred answered haughtily, “but I sure as hell am not going to introduce you to him. Now can I go?”
Donna glared viciously at the woman, then thought better of it and slowly started to smirk. “No. You haven’t answered all my questions yet.”
Mordred looked at her, her dark eyes narrowing dangerously. “What more do you want to know?”
“What is the meaning of life?” Donna asked, still smirking.
“What?” the elf demanded, her eyes growing wide and incredulous. So she had surprised the woman with the indifferent attitude, Donna noted amusedly. Impressive.
She cackled with wicked glee and started firing questions at the elf. “How did life originate? Is the universe really endless? Who shot John F. Kennedy? Did God die or is he just hiding?”
“Stop that!” Mordred growled. “This is ridiculous. I can’t answer those questions and you know it!”
“Well, sucks to be you,” Donna sing-songed, still laughing evilly.
The elf eyed her, the look on her face now a mix of contempt and bewilderment. “I’m leaving,” she declared and turned to the door.
“No, you’re not.” Donna said sharply, suddenly dead serious. “You swore to it, and unless I’m really wrong about Faerie ethics, you can’t break an oath like that.”
“We are not in Faerie and I am not bound by any law,” Mordred replied slowly.
“But you are bound by honor,” Donna stated confidently. “Or don’t you have any?” She looked at the woman’s stiff back and inwardly cringed. She might be fast enough to outlast the elf in a physical battle, but there was no doubt that this elf could make her life hell if she wanted it. If she was wrong about this...
“This is ridiculous,” Mordred snapped, but she did not leave.
Donna started to smirk again. “You should have paid more attention to what you swore to.”
“You suck.”

****

Crossposted to their_world.

Hemlock: Mordred/Ree first kiss

Tue, 25 May 2004 22:40:08 GMT

“Go away, boy,” Ree snapped. Mordred laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that affected her even when she did her best to ignore it.
“I’m hardly a boy, Ree. I thought you’d figured that out by now.” He was smirking in such a way that she knew his words had a double meaning, but she was unable to recognise it. It infuriated her even more.
“You’re barely a century old,” she said, her voice cold. “That qualifies as a boy.”
“Are these excuses really helping to make you forget your lust for me?” he asked, smiling affably.
“I despise you.”
He laughed outright at that. “I know you do,” he said as he stepped closer to her. It annoyed her to no end that she noticed how his voice had lowered. “Why don’t you just admit you want me?” he continued, that infuriating grin still on his lips. He was not even fazed by her glare. How could he not be? Queens and commanders had cowered from that look.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” she hissed and immediately regretted the visible outburst. It only amused him more. “I could never give in to you.”
His eyes widened and a real smile broke through on his face. “Is that so?” he asked, his dark eyes sparkling. “I’ve been going at this completely the wrong way!”
She rolled her eyes. “No, seriously?”
He ignored her comment. “Ree, I dare you. I say you cannot claim me. I challenge you to try.”
“You don’t seriously think I’ll fall for that, do you?” she demanded, baffled.
Mordred was still smiling. “I assure you that from now on, I will not give in to any kind of affection from your side. As I said, you won’t be able to seduce me in any way or form.”
She stared at him, trying her hardest not to look perplexed. He looked back at her from under lowered eyelids. “You can try me,” he suggested lazily.
He did not seriously think she would fall for that, did he? And still...
Since she had met him the man had done nothing but surprise her. Every time she thought she understood his way of thinking and thought she could predict his next move, he would switch tactics. But instead of learning from experience, she had continued to treat him in the exact same manner. Perhaps the only way to come out on top was turning the tables on him.
He was standing too close already. Ofcourse, in a popular nightclub like this one, people were always forced to stand in eachother’s personal space, but Mordred was doing it on purpose. Instead of being angry about it, though, she had better use it.
She glided closer to him, carefully tried a seductive swing of her hips and then thought better of it. She had never used her body in a battle of wills before, had never needed to do so, and frankly, she sucked at it. Most elves had a natural sensuality that they used in and out of season, but she had never been like that. Her words and her looks had always been sufficient.
She was too close for her own comfort, now, and suddenly she was not sure that this had been a good idea. Mordred’s dark eyes were fixed on hers, the look he gave her sending a shiver down her spine. This was a mere boy, she told herself frantically, a girlish boy who was more arrogant than kings could afford to be, who had been taunting her for weeks, who really should be put in his place. To her annoyance she noted that he was absolutely calm, that lazy smile still on his face as he stood there, waiting for her to make a move. Finally she gripped his shoulders and pressed her body against his, her eyes locked on his face.
Faster than she had expected him to be he put his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth opened in surprise and ofcourse he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in and kiss her thoroughly.
Her first reaction was to kiss him back and it took all her willpower to refrain from doing so. Some instincts were impossible to banish completely. Her feelings were battling for dominance, emotions much deeper than the irritation and anger he always provoked in her. Would he – should she, if – ... This should not be happening!
She pushed him away from her with a savage snarl so unlike her that she shocked herself. Mordred was smiling smugly, looking so composed that for a moment she wondered if anything had happened.
“You’re despicable!” she hissed, clenching her fists tightly.
“You won,” he stated, that enraging smile still on his face.
With a last furious snarl she twirled around and stalked away, painfully aware that it was taking her too long to collect herself. She had to get him out of her sight or she would never be able to get her wits together again. That lowly bastard should not be able to get to her like this.
“Don’t you want to collect your prize?” he called after her.
“Fuck you, boy,” she spat without looking back at him.
“Yeah, that was what I had in mind, too.”

**********

Heh, finally.
The claiming and daring thing might be kind of familiar if you've read my fanfiction, but this is not my fault *laughs sheepishly* This is just the way Mordred acts. Everything is a challenge for him and he likes to make it as hard as possible for himself, too. Poor Ree. She does not deserve this, even though she is a cold bitch.

*coughs* Figures I finish romance scenes first. Although this isn't very romantic, yet. I've got loads more planned in this universe, but Mordred/Ree action just amuses me. Comfort writing (why yes, I am totally stressed out over assessments and deadlines).

Crossposted to their_world.

Mordred questionaire

Mon, 24 May 2004 19:35:12 GMT

Name: Mordred. Yes, that’s my name both as a male and a female. No, it isn’t my real name.

Height: 1,78 m. Yes, that’s about 5’8”, 5’9”

Weight: 60, 65 kg? Geesh, do I look like I care?

Body Type: Slender.

Physical Condition (fit, unfit, in-between): More fit than not.

Eye Color: Really dark brown.

Hair Color and Style: Brown, semi-curly, just below my shoulders.

Distinguishing Features:
1. I’m rather short for an elf
2. My hair is surprisingly rough for an elf, too
3. Apparently my eyes are distinguishing...

Physical Imperfections:
1. Well, the hair maybe? Depends on who’s judging, though.
2. Yeah, fine, so I’m short. It’s not like I can’t hurt you.
3. I heard a freakish person say my chin was too pointy, but ofcourse they were wrong. There’s nothing wrong with my chin, or any part of me for that matter.

Characteristic Gestures:
1. I’ll lounge against walls as if I’m completely comfortable
2. Does ‘the finger’ count?

Race: Elf. Pureblood sidhe, as far as anyone like me can be pure of blood.

Ethnic Group: Sidhe.

Religion: Atheist.

Family Background/Lineage: My parents were commoners... if there’s anything common about incest, that is.

Skills, Abilities and Talents:
1. I suppose I’m good at languages
2. Charm. If I want to, I can wrap you around my little finger.
3. I’m good with my hands. And that is meant to be taken in every way it can be taken.
4. I’m a decent dancer. Goes with the...
5. ...Martial arts. *laughs* Seriously, I’m good at it. I’ve been training for oh, fifty years now, so it’s hard not to be good at it.
6. I suppose I’d have some skills in music if I’d ever have the patience to try.
7. I can sing. I’m not by any means amazing, but I’m okay.
8. Seeking out weaknesses in other people and exploiting that
9. I’m not too shabby at killing, either...

Areas of Expertise:
1. Ehm, well, martial arts I suppose
2. Being superior to the rest of the world?
3. Do I have to mention the killing again? It’s supposed to be a secret freelance job
4. ....

Occupation: Everything I can get my hands on, really.

Past Occupations:
1. Mercinary
2. Video store cashier
3. Bar tender

Military Experience: -

Short-Term Goals:
1. Pester that Ree until she breaks
2. A drink would be nice
3. So would money

Long-Term Goals:
1. Actually, that Ree looks like she’s going to be a long-term job....
2. More drinks
3. And more money. Really, what more is there in the world?

Short-Term Needs:
1. ...*smirks*
2. money

Long-Term Needs:
1. *smirks more*
2. Anything to keep me from being bored

General Personality Type: Calm, arrogant, manipulative, smart, aggressive when provoked, stubborn, moody

Introvert/Extrovert: In between.

Quirks:
1. Before I drink something, I first carefully taste with my tongue. I don’t know why.

Eccentricities:
1. I’m either very social and laid back or very introvert and able to rip out your eyes for bugging me.
2. I’m really not as nice as I look, and I don’t look that nice to begin with
3. Does the shifting sexes thing count?

IQ: High enough, I’m sure

Temperament: Usually collected enough

Method of Handling Anger or Rage: Using it to hurt you back

Admirable Traits:
1. I’m intelligent
2. ...I’ve got a black belt in several martial arts
3.....
4. ....

Negative Traits:
1. Arrogant
2. I don’t really care about anything but my current interests. And by anything I mean life and the world in general
3. I’ve got a sadistic streak, I suppose
4. Did I mention that I sometimes kill people for a living?

Bad Habits/Vices:
1. Do I have to name the killing people again?
2. ...if I’ve got a lighter, I set fire to things. Including people. But only when I’m bored.
3. I drink alcohol..?
4. People might say I get obsessed over things. I prefer to call it being seriously interested.

Prejudices:
1. Humans are lowly creatures.
2. I don’t think most fey are worthy of my time, either.

Pet Peeves and Gripes:
1. Don’t talk to me when I’m glaring.
2. In fact, don’t bother talking to me unless I talk to you.
3. People harassing Donna or people who dare to look at Ree.

Things That Make Uncomfortable or Embarrass:
1. I’m not easily embarrassed.
2. Really, I’m not.
3. Okay, fine, I might be if I start doing something to show off how awesome I am, and then fall flat on my face. That hasn’t happened since I was a kid, though.

Most Painful Things in One’s Life:
1. Being banished would be, if I’d remembered it.
2. Do I look like I want to be reminded of this?!
3. Countless things that I’m not going to tell you about.

Income: Depends on the job of the moment

Sense of Humor: Sarcasm, wit, laughing at the misfortune of others. Wicked evil faerie.

Fears:
1. Fear? I’m a manly ma- okay, maybe not, but I’m manly enough not to have any fears.
Author: You mean to admit you have any fears.
Whatever.
2. ....
3. ....

Phobias:
1. Nothing. I might be a bit paranoid, sometimes, but that’s all.
2. ...

Manias:
1. Don’t have those.
Author: No? What about the setting things on fire, or stalking people, or ...
You do realise I’m stronger than you, do you?
Author: Don’t threaten me, I’m the reason you exist.
Fuck you, too.

Physical Illnesses or Afflictions:
1. I really don’t like iron.
2. Uhm, the shifting sexes thing. I’ve not yet learned how to control it.

Mental Disturbances:
1. Author: The fire thing. Although he’s not a real pyromaniac, just a freak.
2. I don’t stalk. That doesn’t count.
3. ....

Hobbies: Martial arts, I suppose. Watching the world. Sex. Hanging about with Donna, every now and then. Frustrating guys when I’m in my female form (man, do you know the power that women have?! Incredible). Some stand up comedians. Some.

Interests:
1. Ree, at the moment.
2. Said martial arts again. What, you want specifics? Eh, kendo, kung fu, wushu...
3. A certain tv show

Favorite Pasttime: Look at the hobbies.

Favorite TV Shows:
1. ‘Whose line is it anyway’ can be amusing, every now and then
2. I don’t watch enough tv for this
3.

Favorite Movies:
1. ...
2.
3.

Favorite Travel Destination: Nonexistant

Pets: -

Drinks Alcohol? (How Often?): Yeah. Depends on how often I’m clubbing, but at least once a week.

Favorite Alcohol Drink: Whiskey.

Favorite Meal: Nothing in particular.

Favorite Books:
1. Human books? I don’t have those
2.
3.

Diet (low-fat, rich, low cholesterol, restaurant, etc.?): Nothing in particular

Favorite Restaurant/Ethnic Food: -

Favorite Physical Attributes in Opposite Sex: Pretty eyes, pretty legs, pretty tits.

Attributes About Character that Turn on Opposite Sex: Hey, I’m gorgeous. What’s not to love on me? Deep, dark eyes, sensual lips, slender, hard body-
Author: Yeah, I know you like yourself. Shut up.
You’re just jealous because you can’t have me.
Author: ...shut up.

Sexual Turn-ons:
1. As I said, I’m not interested in sex.
2. ...
3. ...okay, fine. Enough body mass.

Sexual Turn-offs:
1. Submissive people annoy me to hell.
2. Too much fat. Hey, man, I’m an elf, I like ‘em thin.
Author: You’re getting more crude by the minute, aren’t you?
You shouldn’t have decided to channel me if you don’t like it, woman.
3. Dirt. On the object of my affection. Unless it’s from rolling around in the bushes with me.

Traumas/Psychological Scars from the Past:
1. Do I look like I’m going to tell you? No? I thought so.
2. ...
3. -

Clothing Styles/Favorite Outfits: I’m too lazy to really go out and shop for decent fashion. I like those flaring jeans and tanktops, though.

Favorite Pet Sayings, Words/Idiolect:
1. Anything smartass
2. “...woman”. Yeah, I do that to men, too, if they annoy me too much.
3. ....

Speaking Style (talkative, taciturn, soft-spoken, loud, formal, casual, accent, fast, slow, etc.): calm, casual

Philosophy of Life: Carpe diem

Type and Number of Close Friends: Donna is probably the only one who counts, and I don’t see her that often.

Best Friend: Donna?.

Other Friends: -

Most Crucial Experience (Or experiences that helped to mold character’s personality or attitude): Being a child of two perverted people, being kicked out of Faerie on a young age, being abandoned by my parents, do I really need to go on?.

Home: (apartment/tenement building/high-rent/low-rent/house/mansion/castle, etc.): I’ve got a room close to Hemlock, now..

Neighborhood: Ehm... let me get back to you on that. Somewhere in some cities underground life.

Car: I don’t have one

Color: Black, deep purple

Drive Fast or Slow/Obey Traffic Laws: Fast.

Major Problems to Solve or Overcome:
1. -
2. Okay, well, I’d like to control shifting sexes
3. -

Solutions to Problems:
1. ....
2. Research or practice.
3. ....

Minor Problems to Solve or Overcome:
1. Getting Ree to give in to me
2. Sex would be... welcome.
3. Bored. Boredboredbored.

Solutions to Problems:
1. Oh, I’ll find a way. Pester her until she snaps is the game plan for now.
2. *strolls over to a pretty girl* “Hey there.”
3. “I’m highly fuckable, care to try?”
Author: *rolls eyes* Really, Mordred, you know that’s not going to work.
Hey, I that was my answer to boredom, not to getting sex. For sex, I’d go at it in a completely different way. *looks author deeply in the eyes and inches closer* You wanna know how?
Author: No thank you, I know quite enough about your tactics.
*shoots author a smoldering look* And you know they never fail to work.
</i>

He's evil. Evil.

Sun, 23 May 2004 16:21:44 GMT

Draco Malfoy impatiently shook an almost empty bottle so that the last drops of fluid in it would join with the murky green potion that he was stirring with his other hand. The liquids contacted with a bang and smoke erupted from the cauldron. Draco kept stirring until eventually the smoke cleared, revealing a very pale, almost white fluid.
He smirked smugly. Finally, the invisibility potion was ready! It really had been a brilliant idea to look in that particular grimoire in his father’s library. At last he had a counteraction to that bloody Potter’s invisibility cloak. No more would the Boy Who Should Have Died have that as an advantage to him.
He stirred the potion until he was sure it had cooled down enough and then siphoned it to a small flacon. He had not made much; if a teacher caught him brewing potions outside classes, he would surely get punished. Not even a seventh year could get away with magic in the hallways, and although this was not a hallway, he suspected the rule would count for abandoned classrooms as well.
He looked at the pale liquid thoughtfully. Better try it out before he made a fool of himself in front of his friends. He didn’t think they would dare to laugh at him if the potion failed to work, but he’d rather avoid the situation completely. He had a reputation to maintain.
He raised the flacon to his lips. “To you, Potter,” he said in a rare lighthearted moment and took a decent swig.

The world turned.
Balance and perspective seemed to shift and flicker and he stumbled and fell, landing on his hands and knees. His whole body hurt. His skin burned all over his body, his musled spasmed and stretched, his bones seemed to shift and change shape regardless of the tissue covering it. His spine curled until it practically snapped and he bit back a howl. This could not be good.

When the pain finally subdued to a tedious ache, Draco found himself lying curled up as a ball on the floor. He had a bad feeling about this. Still, he reckoned, he should at least try and see if the potion had worked.
He started lifting his hand, groaned as it fell back out of its own volition and tried again, biting back the pain.

His hand was not visible anymore, he decided after staring at it for a long while. Instead, however, he was looking at a paw with off-white fur and sharp, retractable talons.
Shit, he wanted to say, viciously and wholehearted.
He meowed.

***

*coughs* No, I couldn't resist.

I've never written HP fanfiction before and I'm really nervous about it. Am much too afraid I won't be able to keep them in character. Still, this plotbunny won't let me go so... Eh.

Anyone willing to beta this little piece before I throw it on ff.net to get my head bashed in?

Hemlock: Mordred/Ree

Sat, 22 May 2004 09:18:09 GMT

“You’re Ree.”
Mordred had finally cornered the blonde. From up close, she intrigued him even more. She was pretty, yes, but as practically everyone in this building, she had elf blood. They all could rely on some degree of beauty.
No, it wasn’t her good looks that piqued his interest. Something in the utter arrogance of the way she held herself made him think of fighting, beating, breaking. She presented a challenge and he had never been one to pass up one of those.
“Thank you so much for pointing that out. I can’t believe I forgot,” she said. Her low voice was cool enough to make the sarcasm christal sharp.
“You’re gorgeous,” Mordred said, not at all fazed.
“I’m an elf,” she replied, deadpan. She had the ability to make her comments sounds sarcastic without using the ‘Duh.’-tone. Remarkable.
“You’re gonna be mine,” he stated, keeping his voice emotionless, like hers. God forbid they’d show any feelings, he thought to himself and grinned.
That fazed her. “I’m not,” she replied in the same cool voice, but he’d seen the flash of surprise in her eyes before she could control it. Apparently the stuck up missy hadn’t simply been claimed before.
“Just wait,” he told her. He shot her one of his seldom grins and disappeared in the crowd. He could feel her eyes on his back, but he refused to look at her again.

**************************

Really short and really not working. I can only hope I'll get into the habit of writing in English on original pieces.

Crossposted to their_world

Ree questionaire

Sat, 22 May 2004 00:32:43 GMT

Name: Ree. Okay, well, Rionach. It’s not my real name, though.

Height: 1,75 m. Yes, that’s about 5’7”, 5’8”

Weight: 58 kg or 128 lbs

Body Type: Thin? I prefer to call it slender.

Physical Condition (fit, unfit, in-between): In between, I guess.

Eye Color: Grey

Hair Color and Style: Blonde. It’s down my shoulders, now, but you’ll never see that. I always wear it up.

Distinguishing Features:
1. I’m elvish, what can I say?
2. I stand very straight. People have called it stiff
3. I like to wear long skirts.

Physical Imperfections:
1. I’m elvish, what can I say?
2. Okay, fine, I have big feet. For an elf.
3. Some might say my jaw is too angular. Others argue, though.

Characteristic Gestures:
1. Did I mention the stiff posture?
2. Some might say I hold myself as if everyone is beneath me. Arrogant, they call me. I prefer the term royal.

Race: Elf. Pureblood sidhe.

Ethnic Group: Sidhe.

Religion: The gods are dead.

Family Background/Lineage: Do I look like I’m going to tell you? If the hints I dropped weren’t enough, go look for the meaning of my chosen name.

Skills, Abilities and Talents:
1. Languages
2. accountancy
3. delegating
4. ruling- I mean leading
5. Massage. I am.
6. Music.
7. Gods, how many skills am I supposed to have?
8. Okay, fine, my drawing skills are decent enough
9. I’m also stronger than I look. I can hurt you.

Areas of Expertise:
1. Leading
2. Fey life in Faerie as well as on earth. You could say I’m somewhat of a selftaught fey etnologist
3. Catering industry
4. Money.

Occupation: I own this club, Hemlock.

Past Occupations:
1. ...
2. ...do I look like I’m going to tell you?
3. At one point, I have worked as an ambassador.

Military Experience: None in the field.

Short-Term Goals:
1. Get rid of this annoying boy Mordred
2. Get food
3. Get a good night of sleep

Long-Term Goals:
1. Organise this chaotic underworld of fey
2. Step out in the open and demand a place in this world
3. Get rid of this annoying boy Mordred.

Short-Term Needs:
1. Food
2. Sleep

Long-Term Needs:
1. Did I mention food?
2. And sleep?

General Personality Type: Cool, collected, manipulative, smart, assertive, patient, holds grudges

Introvert/Extrovert: Introvert more than extrovert, but it depends on the company

Quirks:
1. When I’m nervous, I’ll poke my nails into the fingertips of my other hand

Eccentricities:
1. Although I can be social when necessary, I prefer to keep to myself.
2. I really do think that all humans and most fey are beneath me
3. I don’t sleep unless I’m absolutely sure every door is locked.

IQ: I don’t know. High, I assume.

Temperament: Usually collected.

Method of Handling Anger or Rage: Keeping it inside and getting you back when you least expect it

Admirable Traits:
1. I’m intelligent
2. I’m good with money. And I mean really good
3. I want to make this world a better place for fey.
4. I... did I mention the music thing?

Negative Traits:
1. I might be a bit too arrogant
2. I often judge people too fast. I would not care so much, if this did not come back to ah, what’s the term? Bite me in the ass.
3. People say I’m prudish. I don’t consider this a negative trait, however
4. Do I have to mention more?!

Bad Habits/Vices:
1. I don’t drive very well because I never practice. I don’t like cars.
2. I have a tendency to treat my employees as servants
3. If I consider you beneath me, I will let you know.
4. I write in books.

Prejudices:
1. Humans are lowly creatures.
2. I don’t think most fey are worthy of my time, either

Pet Peeves and Gripes:
1. Don’t try and come on to me.
2. Don’t touch me, either.
3. Pop ups. Why yes, I do use the internet.

Things That Make Uncomfortable or Embarrass:
1. Mordred *glares at a certain brunette*
2. being proved wrong
3. Being opposed in any way, really

Most Painful Things in One’s Life:
1. Being banished, obviously
2. Not telling you
3. Okay, losing my first love was painful

Income: Quite enough

Sense of Humor: Mainly sarcastic

Fears:
1. I fear that decisions from my past will come back to haunt me.
2. I fear men. Don’t tell them that, though.
3. I fear certain people that will remain unnamed.

Phobias:
1. ...men? No, I don’t think that counts as a phobia.
2. Whatever it is that causes me to make sure all the doors are locked before I go to sleep

Manias:
1. Nonexistant.

Physical Illnesses or Afflictions:
1. I really don’t like iron.

Mental Disturbances:
1. Did I mention the men thing?
2. And the locking-everything-thing?
3. Otherwise, I’m perfectly fine. Thank you.

Hobbies: I like to read. The internet provides amusement too, every now and then. It also pleases me to walk around in my club. Despite my opinion on fey and humans alike, it amuses me to watch them. I like horseback riding, too, if I get the chance.

Interests:
1. Stories
2. Money
3. Music

Favorite Pasttime: I have no favorite pasttime, there are multiple things I enjoy doing

Favorite TV Shows:
1. If I ever watch tv, it’s for the news
2.
3.

Favorite Movies:
1.
2.
3.

Favorite Travel Destination: Nonexistant

Pets: I have a cat.

Drinks Alcohol? (How Often?): Not usually

Favorite Alcohol Drink: Wine.

Favorite Meal: Nothing in particular.

Favorite Books:
1. Human books? Anything by Shakespeare
2. The Lord of the Rings amuses me greatly
3. You wouldn’t know my real favorites anyway

Diet (low-fat, rich, low cholesterol, restaurant, etc.?): Nothing in particular

Favorite Restaurant/Ethnic Food: There is a special taste to Chinese that I quite enjoy

Favorite Physical Attributes in Opposite Sex: I am not interested in either sex, but if I have to choose something, I will go for tall men with beautiful eyes

Attributes About Character that Turn on Opposite Sex: On me? Well, as I said, I’m an elf so there’s enough people turned on by my looks. However, it appears to me that the more unattainable I am, the more people want me.

Sexual Turn-ons:
1. As I said, I’m not interested in sex.
2. ...
3. ...okay, fine. Enough body mass.

Sexual Turn-offs:
1. Hair. Humans disgust me. And goblins.
2. Fat and bulky muscles.
3. Uncleanness.

Traumas/Psychological Scars from the Past:
1. Do I look like I’m going to tell you? No? I thought so.
2. Being banished, obviously.
3. Once again, no telling.

Clothing Styles/Favorite Outfits: As said, I like long skirts. Anything decent but appealing will do. I am still enough of a sidhe to pay attention to my appearance.

Favorite Pet Sayings, Words/Idiolect:
1. “Gods”
2. “What in the world...”
3. ....

Speaking Style (talkative, taciturn, soft-spoken, loud, formal, casual, accent, fast, slow, etc.): Cool, collected, formal. A slight accent that humans can’t usually place

Philosophy of Life: Do as you will.

Type and Number of Close Friends: Close friends? I would not say I have those. Although there are people who might be offended by my saying that.

Best Friend: Nonexistant.

Other Friends: -

Most Crucial Experience (Or experiences that helped to mold character’s personality or attitude): Being born. Believe me, where and to who you were born matters a lot. Certain situations that involved Not So Nice people. Being a Bad Girl and being banished for it.

Home: (apartment/tenement building/high-rent/low-rent/house/mansion/castle, etc.): I live in an appartment in the same building as my club.

Neighborhood: Ehm... let me get back to you on that. Somewhere in some cities underground life.

Car: I don’t have one

Color: blue

Drive Fast or Slow/Obey Traffic Laws: If I drive, it’s fast but sloppy. I prefer not to, though

Major Problems to Solve or Overcome:
1. Trying to unite the fey in this world
2. Trying to give us rights in this world
3. Trying to get that Mordred boy to leave me alone

Solutions to Problems:
1. Talking. Talking. More talking.
2. Even more talking. Perhaps we should hijack some airplanes.
3. I don’t know, everything I tried so far was useless

Minor Problems to Solve or Overcome:
1. Trying to get that Mordred boy to leave me alone
2. Hungry!
3. Sleepy.

Solutions to Problems:
1. I don’t know. He doesn’t take hints. He doesn’t take orders, either.
2. I’ll get the cook to make me some dinner
3. I have to wait till everyone has left the club, but then I’ll be free to go to bed.

Am trying to get into my characters' heads. Geesh, did Ree turn out to be ambitious or what? Not sure if she'll ever succeed, though.

Yes, this belongs in the same universe as that Rosie bit. And yes, there are bits and pieces of story on Ree and Mordred that I'm working on. I'm just really busy right now and the scenes are not finished yet, so you'll have to wait a bit longer before I post them.

Repost: Rose at the dentist

Mon, 17 May 2004 21:29:56 GMT

“Well, she does have exceptionally large canines,” the dentist said, hesitatingly.
“I’m a vampire,” Rosie announced, grinning, and bared her teeth at the man.
“Do you think maybe they could be, I don’t know, shortened, one way or another?” Hannah Black asked, toying with her daughter’s unruly brown curls. Annoyed, Rosie pulled her hair from her mother’s fingers and rolled her head back until she could see her mother upside down. She stuck out her tongue, squinted and giggled.
“Well, we could probably file them,” the dentist suggested. He gently pulled Rosie’s mouth open and fingered the offending teeth. “That, or lose them completely, but new ones’ll be expensive.”
Rosie bit down hard.
The dentist made a choked sound and pried her mouth open with his other hand, pulling his fingers free. She had bitten right through the thin, rubber gloves, breaking his skin. A brilliant red pearl of blood appeared on the second knuckle-bone of his index finger. “Well, they’re exceptionally sharp as well,” he said, his eyes a bit wide.
Hannah glared at her daughter. “What did I tell you about biting people?”
“My teeth are fine,” Rosie declared sharply. “I don’t want him to file them or pull them out.”
The dentist nervously avoided to look at her and shrugged his shoulders at her mother. “They’re not in her way, so there’s no real need for me to do either. If she’ll change her mind when she’s older, we can always do something about it then.”
“I won’t change my mind,” Rosie stated. “My teeth are cool.”
Her mother sighed. “Fine then, if you’re sure it won’t cause her any trouble.” She pulled on her daughter’s arm to get her to sit up. Rosie, irritated, shook her hand off and jumped from the chair on the ground, limber as only a ten year old could be.
The dentist led her and her mother out, shaking his head at Hannah’s previous comment. “No, her teeth are in great condition. Just make sure to check in every six months. As I said, we can always do something about it if she changes her mind.”
“Okay. Thank you very much,” Hannah said, flashing him a pretty smile, and ushered her daughter out of the dentist’s office and into the waiting-room.
“I’m a vampire,” Rosie announced again and growled in her best impression of the undead creature of the night. Her mother cast an apologetic look to the people waiting.

*********************

First bit for maruchina, aurenfaie and my joined-universe thing. This is Rose, one of my characters, when she's still a kid. I'm having all these ideas about how she grew up and stuff *grins* She only joins my other characters and the whole world thing when she's sixteen or seventeen, though. I had wanted to make her older, but she insisted on being a teenager. Well, fine.

The writing is probably lousy on this one. When I'm writing fanfiction, my brain is immediately in English mode. For original fiction, however, I keep on thinking in Dutch and having to translate. Feel free to correct all spelling and grammar mistakes you can find.

And no, this is not locked. Nothing in this universe will be locked, I think.

Crossposted to their_world.

Eee, first post.

Mon, 10 May 2004 14:27:46 GMT

As of yet, this journal is friends only. If you want to be added, ask me. If I don't know you, you'll probably undergo serious interrogation before I decide I can trust you. I might just ask for your home address so I know where to find you if you dare break my trust *evil smirk*

Ahem, just comment here or email me and we'll go from there.

Seriously, I don't think anyone will go through all that trouble to be able to read a bit of my fiction... *sheepish grin*