aldersprig: (Library)



Originally posted February 27, 2015

🌶️

The fighter pilot with the callsign Spice was new to the team and, although all her credentials assured that she was not, indeed, new to space fighting as a concept or a skill, still the team had to be reassured.

Read On





Fancy Dresses, long lingering kisses, awkward moments with your friends, bullies… Prom!

Anton had figured he didn’t have a chance.

He was new to Hieder Hill High, he wasn’t one of the popular kids – was the new guy ever the popular guy? – his family wasn’t rich or even that well-off, and he didn’t dress like or act like the popular guys.

Open to All Patrons!





I live!  It’s been a hell of a month.  But here I am. 

🍎

This story originally posted June 4, 2011.

📚

He came to the school in autumn, once the crops were in. They’d gone back to old habits and old practices in the Academy, as in so much of the world, knowing that the old existed and had survived for so long for a reason.

Read On!




And On Wordpress…
aldersprig: (foedus)
In the same very wide world as The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper

Everybody knew the Tojibarri stole people. It was the first thing you learned when you were in the Corps: when you were on a Tojibar-held territory, you went in pairs or triples, you didn't drink or eat anything you hadn't brought with you, and you never went into their forests in less than a group of twelve.

Everyone knew it, and yet Unther hadn't ever met anyone who'd known anyone who'd been stolen by the Tojibar. Yes, they traded in slaves - many of the Ring worlds did - but most of those slaves were one of the three Variations on humanity common to the Tojibar territories. Not great, doing that to their own people, but not Corps business, not something Unther could fix on his own, and not a threat to someone wanting a drink.

Thing was, they'd been using the buddy system and everything. And Unther had been sitting in the back of a public park, his back to his partners, shoulders touching. Sure, they'd been a little bit relaxed, but they'd been on duty for fifteen Central hours; it was time for a break.

He'd sipped his drink - fruit juice, not even fermented. He'd taken a bite of his energy bar. He'd bounced his shoulders off Kay and Gwinn. And then he'd lost consciousness.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Jahnan)
First: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part I

Previous: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part VI

I wanted to poke at these guys again, so here's a little ficlet, since the bit between Part Vi and this seems to have stalled me.


Jahnan woke to the sound of muffled clinking very near her. She opened her eyes to find Yira Trembane less than a meter away, diligently working at the Tod’cxeckz’ri collar locked around his neck.

"Stop that," she snapped. her head hurt. Her eyes hurt. Everything hurt. "You're still my bounty, and I'm still going to turn you in." She put a hand over her eyes to block out the light. "Wait. Did I fall asleep? There's no time for that."

"You were knocked out. We were knocked out." When she peeked at him, Yira had put his hands back in his lap and disappeared whatever he'd been using as a lockpick. “We were talking to that — that thing, whatever it was—”

“Brain slug,” Jahnan muttered. Those only existed in children’s sensie vids, she was pretty sure, but that’s what the thing had looked like.

“That thing. And then the air got thick. I woke up first. I out-mass you,” he added defensively.

“Don’t try to take the collar off. For one, I am still turning you in for the bounty, and for another, we don’t know what it’ll do to you.”

“Glad my well-being is so foremost in your mind.” He stretched, and Jahnan’s eyes followed the movement. Even sitting, his fingers touched the ceiling, which itself seemed to be made of something soft and pliable. “Now can we try to escape, or do you have more orders for me, kozel-wife?”

Every time he used the Tod’cxeckz’ri term that meant mistress, Jahnan noted, Yira sounded a little less sarcastic about it.

They had to get her ship back, and fast.
aldersprig: (foedus)
The giraffe-people ("Cortcheczocko") and the beetle-people ("Dezzirezz'hezz") had not been the first of the Federated Planets to visit Earth, but their delegation had come with the formal ribbons and banners, the formal papers and, most importantly, the engraved invitation to visit the Federation ("Foedus Planetarum") and see if they wished to engage in the paperwork to join.

"Send twenty delegates from each of your five largest countries," the Cortcheczocko ambassador had said, its (his? Despite the giraffe-like horns and spotted skin, the Cortcheczocko looked decidedly human, and the ambassador both handsome and male.) - or his translator working madly to keep up. "Send your science-people and your entertainment-people, your mechanics-people and your representative-people. Send no more or no less than one hundred, and the shuttle will take them in forty-five days."

The smirk on the ambassador's face had suggested he knew that humans did nothing that important that quickly. Behind him, the Dezzirezz'hezz ambassador (female, probably, although hairless, with iridescent blue patterns over much of her skin) smirked as well.

It was thus that Etel found herself on a shuttle between a mechanic from Jersey and a famous rapper, bound for - well, bound for somewhere, at least, and somewhere that promised to be interesting.

The mechanic had introduced herself first. "Amy Colivanni. I fix imported cars. Think the Cortcheczians gonna need their oil changed?"

"Etelvina Escarrà. Friends call me Etel, and we might as well be friends. I'm a biologist from New York - upstate New York," she added by reflex. "By the lake. I don't know what they want." Personally, she thought the translator had mangled "mechanical engineer", but she wasn't going to say that. "I think they want to make sure we understand them as best as possible, inside and out - and vice-versa."

"Hunh. Well, they're gonna get a fun picture, ain't they? Hundred people picked in a rush." She cracked her knuckles. "I already wanna see under the hood of this shuttle. I got a chance to look at Space Ship X once. That was a blast. This is absolutely nothing like this... and yet it's a lot the same. You know?"

Etal nodded fervently. "Yeah." She was having the same feeling about the Cortcheczocko and the Dezzirezz'hezz. They looked too human, too similar and too different. "Yeah, I know the feeling." She wanted to get under their hoods, too.
aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Yira)
I'm playing with Foedus Planetarum to give myself something to, uh, play with.

Yira's people, the Medusas, have tentacle braids and tend large in stature.

Jahnan's people tend brown-and-green, very dexterous, with prehensile toes and prehensile, forked tongues.

I am looking for a couple more variations on the humanoid theme and have not yet found a generator for that /goes looking/

Ideas?

Edited to add: [personal profile] inventrix had provided these links:
http://www.scifiideas.com/alien-species-generator/
http://www.seventhsanctum.com/generate.php?Genname=alienrace
and this one
http://www.springhole.net/writing_roleplaying_randomators/humanoid.htm
and
http://www.seventhsanctum.com/generate.php?Genname=fantasyrace
aldersprig: (foedus)
Not part of [community profile] trope_bingo, but a filler important to the story

First: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part I

Previous in story: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part VII


“I am sorry, I truly am. But my safety protocols do not allow me to open for you.”

“Look, I’m a biological clone of your owner. For all genetic purposes, I am Nehanani Jahnan.”

“For genetic purposes, yes. But not for my purposes.”

Covair hissed. “You are a machine. You should listen when people tell you to do something.”

“I am an artificial intelligence, not an artificial stupidity. You are not Nehanani Jahnan. Therefore, I’m not letting you in.”
Read more... )
aldersprig: (foedus)
To fill square two-three (presumed dead) on my card for [community profile] trope_bingo.

First: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part I

Previous in Trope Bingo: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part VI


“I am sorry, I truly am. But my safety protocols do not allow me to open for you.”

“Look, I’m a biological clone of your owner. For all genetic purposes, I am Nehanani Jahnan.”

“For genetic purposes, yes. But not for my purposes.”

Covair hissed. “You are a machine. You should listen when people tell you to do something.”

“I am an artificial intelligence, not an artificial stupidity. You are not Nehanani Jahnan. Therefore, I’m not letting you in.”
Read more... )
aldersprig: (foedus)
To fill square one-four (caffeine failure) on my card for [community profile] trope_bingo.

First: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part I

Previous in Trope Bingo: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part V

No Ao3 standard warnings apply.


Nehanani Jahnan woke with a pounding headache, her head pillowed on something soft and warm. The sound of something thudding down next to her finished the job of shaking her into wakefulness.

She was - she had - "Shit!" She opened her eyes and sat up, sending stabbing pains through her temples. A bag landed near her feet, and her doppleganger-sister waved from the rigging of her ethership.

"We just need to borrow the Maru for a couple days. We'll be back to get you long before the food and water run out. Sorry!" She had to shout to be heard over the flapping of the sails; even the rigging was out of reach. "Have fun with your 'temporary husband!'"

"Shit, shit, no. Covair!" Jahnan lifted her voice to a shout, despite her headache. "Covair, it won't work! Maru won't work for you!"

"Oh, we can be very persuasive. Thanks, sis! We'll see you soon."
Read more... )
the trope part )
aldersprig: (foedus)
To fill square One-Five (annoying sibling) on my card for [community profile] trope_bingo.

First: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part I

Previous in Trope Bingo: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part IV

If you are reading from Trope Bingo, Part IV is not part of the bingo but an integral part of the story.

No Ao3 standard warnings apply.


Nehanani Jahnan gestured at the vessel floating in front the Maru. The etherboat was a big ship, looking more like a sea caravel than any space-faring vessel - at least, any space-faring vessel in the universe Yira and Jahnan had come from. Its sails were tight against an invisible force - not wind, not out here, but ether. Two great air bladders held it aloft.

And captaining that thing: "Nehanani Covair is my sister. Or my doppelganger, but we've always gone by 'sister', and she's younger than me by a few years." She glanced at Yira, who nodded shortly. He looked more worried than interested, but since she hadn't released whatever hold the Tod'cxeckz'ret collar had on him, she couldn't really blame him for that worry. "I met her the first time I ended up in this splinterworld - Yeah. I've been here before. This is the fourth time. I think the Maru likes this place, and when the what-if drive gets... conflicting signals."
Read more... )




Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/930862.html
aldersprig: (foedus)
To fill square Three-Five (au: steampunk) on my card for [community profile] trope_bingo.

First: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part I

Previous in Trope Bingo: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part III

No Ao3 standard warnings apply.


It wasn’t that Jahnan thought her captive was serious. He had just admitted to attempting to seduce the lion’s share of his captors, generally to escape.

It was just that it had been a while, and he was a handsome man, if you liked the type - which, she was finding, she did. And his hand was warm, and his fingers just strong enough, and all in all it was more than a little bit distracting.

She slid her fingers over the controls while Yira slid his fingers over her, setting the coordinates he’d given her and checking them - twice - against her navigation charts.

Then she threw the switch, just as Yira demonstrated exactly how thin her ship-silks actually were.
Read more... )

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/930668.html
aldersprig: (foedus)
Set in the early days of Earth's admission into the Foedus Planetarum. To the Thimbleful Thursday prompt for March 19, "Green as Grass."

The maintenance team on Luna Station 7 were drawing lots. Johanna, Curtis, and Al had rotated back home - or, in Al's case, onto the space liner he'd been trying to get onto forever. That meant they were getting three new workers, and while two of them were maintenance veterans, none of them had worked Se7en, with its particular peculiarities, before.

"Oh, come on." Angie stared at the green button. "I do not want the greenhorn again. Every time. Every time." There were rules about how long you could stay at a particular station. Angie, Clyde, and Taylor had managed to avoid all of those rules, while Emily was coming up on the end of her time and had yet to come up with a suitable workaround. "Why is it always me?"

Clyde wasn't going to tell her that he'd learned to feel the differences between green, white, and black buttons, and if he wasn't going to tell her, Emily wasn't going to point out that they made different sounds. "It'll be fine, Angie. You're so good with the new ones. You scare them just enough. And besides, it's not like this one's new-to-space." Emily flipped through the dossiers on her tablet. "Kalienkari Shefor. Last tour of duty as a bureaucrat on Jacoba Two, right at the edge of Earth space. So he-or-she will have their space legs."

"Well," Angie grumbled, "better than Curtis, at least. All right, bring them in."

They cleared the buttons off the table, and Emily, as junior, went to get the newbies. By the time she led them in, she was clearly trying not to laugh.

They knew that other variants than Terran humans worked the stations. Being Luna, however, they'd always gotten Terrans. "Angela Rodriquez, this is Kalienkari Shefor, your new trainee."

The man, for he was certainly that, had skin the brown of tree bark and hair - and even Angie had trouble not laughing - hair as green as grass.
aldersprig: (foedus)
The fighter pilot with the callsign Spice was new to the team and, although all her credentials assured that she was not, indeed, new to space fighting as a concept or a skill, still the team had to be reassured.

The 'old men' - venerable veterans at twenty, twenty-two - watched from a safe distance on the carrier as Spice went through her first series of maneuvers. The training run wasn't their hardest - nobody thought she could do that one, half the old men couldn't pull it off flawlessly - but it was not easy, either, with a 1% fatality rate.

Spice zipped around the first obstacles - not too fast, not too slow. "Those are easy," one Old Man scoffed. "Just wait till-"

But she made the trick shot as easily as any of them had.

"Too slow," the doubter chided. And then he was laughing, as she bopped the wrong way around one of the hardest targets. "Looks like she zigged when she should have zagged!" His cronies laughed, some uneasily. That was the most deadly part of the run, the part they'd lost friends on.

The speakers blared to life. "All right!" Spice taunted, as she popped out on the other side of the target, the "flag" in her jet-ship's catch-claw. "Zig-a-zig-ah!"

Thimbleful Thursday: https://thimblefulthursday.wordpress.com/2015/02/26/thimbleful-writing-prompt-10/

And Zig-a-zig.... ah: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spice_Girls
aldersprig: (foedus)
This piece is a prelude to my Foedus Planetarum setting, set many decades before the other stories. It is written for the Three-Word Wednesday prompt: content, evolve, sober.

"Humankind did not evolve."

It was not the sort of thing you wanted to tackle sober, but Imri was the Space Department's Chief of Science, and she could not be seen to be drunk on the job.

"That is," she looked over her notes again. "Humanity did evolve, quite a bit. But humanity, on earth... well, it's complex."

There were three other people in the room with her. Two of them had white-iridescent hair and slit-pupiled iris like a cat. The other one was the Space Department's Chief of Security, and he was waiting impatiently for her to work through this.

She looked at the man? who was her counterpart for the Jocet. "All right. So humanity originally evolved... somewhere. And then was seeded, colonized out to various planets in... slightly modified forms?"

The Jocet's language was alien, but, at the same time, it was not alien. Their translators had been able to comprehend it, and, conversely, the Jocet's translators could handle English. Her counterpart nodded. "It is simplified, of course. But you are content with your understanding?"

"Content? Content?" Imri shook her head. "No, no, I could spent a lifetime studying this and not be content. But do I have enough to brief my peers? Yes." She slumped back into her chair. "And then, then I have enough understanding to request a sabbatical to further research this."

The Chief of Security - the Terran-human, North-Atlantic-Nations Chief of Security - shook his head. He'd followed just enough to know he was lost. "I think if you can explain this to the rest of the Chiefs, I'll put in my rec that you get that research as a fully-funded work project."

Imri couldn't argue. Looking across the table at the Jocet, she had a feeling Earth was going to be playing knowledge-catch-up for quite a while.
aldersprig: (BookGlasses)
You guys did such a good job with Jahnan & Yira that I'm hoping you'll help me with Rige and Olivia.

They are in the same world, Foedus Planatarium (Federation of Planets), meant for a for-publication romance story. He's a prisoner, she's an archaeologist. (What? I have types. ;-)

That being said, I have nothing else determined about them, except that they are both "human".

"Human" in this case, as this is a space story, covers a wide array of Roddenberry-alien-type modifications and alterations on a bilaterally symmetrical biped with the head on top, as well as a wide range of cultures.

So: what do they look like, what can you tell me about their history?

Feel free to give me a single trait, like "he wears his hair in braids" or "she has green hair."
aldersprig: (foedus)
To fill square one-two on my card for [community profile] trope_bingo. Story three of a new series.

First: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part I

Previous in Trope Bingo: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part II

Previous in Story: Standards

No Ao3 standard warnings apply.


“Do you seduce every bounty hunter that catches you?” Yira Trembane had his hand halfway up Jahnan’s thigh, and it was creeping ever higher. She was having trouble focusing on the navigation - not a good idea, when using a WhatIf drive. She didn’t want to end up stuck in some alternate-history where he had captured her.

“You make it sound like I get caught a lot.” His hand slid just an inch further up.

Jahnan closed her eyes and thought about trees. “Your dataslip says you did. Seventeen arrests since you turned twenty, and half of those for escape-from-custody. How many times did you escape by seduction?”
Read more... )

Next: IV

If you are reading from Trope Bingo, Part IV is not part of the bingo but an integral part of the story.
aldersprig: (foedus)
To fill square one-two on my card for [community profile] trope_bingo. Story two of a new series.

First: The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part I

No Ao3 standard warnings apply.


Jahnan had one of the richest bounties of her career literally in her grasp. She also had an earring that said that she’d married him under Tod’cxeckz’ri law and a paper telling her how to get rid of him and the earring, and a Tod’cxeckz’ri clerk smirking at her from behind the safety of his counter.

She ran her thumb down the list. “Okay. First choice is your parole officer. Kill two birds with one stone that way.”

“No way.” Yira Trembane shook his head. “I am not going within a star system of that maniac if I can avoid it.”

“You know the terms of your parole included not leaving the star system.”

“Why they were stupid enough to parole me in the first place I’ve never figured out.” Yira smirked. “He’s out. How about my ex-wife? Well... my first ex-wife.”
Read more... )
the trope part )

Next for Story: Mad in Atter
Next for Trope Bingo: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/893899.html
aldersprig: (foedus)
The universe is a wide, large place, far larger than we originally imagined.

“There are over a hundred different human variants in the Known Universe, Yira, and, say, a hundred, two hundred nations, colonies, and cultures for each variant.”

Hundreds of millions of humanoid peoples roam the galaxy in this space-opera setting.

Jahnan & Yira - the Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Story
This story is somewhere between a buddy/Odd Couple comedy and a romance, and begins with a bounty hunter/captive relationship.
It includes, so far: bondage. Unwilling (but legal) imprisonment. Dubcon D/s (at least in theory)


Description: Jahnan (LJ)
Trope Bingo, The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part I (LJ)
Mad in Atter, Jahnan & Yira for Thimbleful Thursday (LJ)
Standards, a story of Jahnan and Yira for #3WW (LJ)
aldersprig: (foedus)
This story is posted out of sequence, because I STILL haven't quite finished Square Two on my Foedus [community profile] trope_bingo card. It will require some filler, I think, but will probably come after Mad in Atter

Written to the Three-Word Wednesday Prompt: Distracted, genuine, modest

New to the setting? Jahnan is a bounty hunter who has caught Yira and is attempting to return him for the bounty. However, Complications Ensue.


Yira Trembane's hand had landed on Jahnan's knee and was sneaking slowly up her thigh.

“I should have left you in the handcuffs,” she muttered. Getting to their next destination would not be a difficult navigation - if she wasn't distracted.

“It's not like I can reach any of the navigation from here.” Yira wiggled the fingers of his free hand in the direction of the input panels. “Or like I can get out. Your ship's got that handled.”

The Maru's “Guest Chair” was holding Jahnan's prisoner firmly, bands pressed against his chest, forehead, lap, and ankles, but his lower arms had been left free, because, as he pointed out, he couldn't reach any navigation instruments

He seemed to be doing some instrument-free navigation of his own, however, his fingers squeezing and creeping, squeezing and creeping. “Besides,” he purred, “you're a very attractive woman. And it's a very small ship.”

“You know,” Jahnan picked up his hand and moved it to his own lap. “I might be more flattered by that if you had a single genuine, honest bone in your whole body.”

“Oh, don't be modest.” He moved his hand back to her knee. “You must know you're an attractive woman.”

She moved his hand again. For such a big man, he had surprisingly delicate fingers. “There are over a hundred different human variants in the Known Universe, Yira, and, say, a hundred, two hundred nations, colonies, and cultures for each variant. At absolute smallest estimate, that's ten thousand different definitions of attractive... and the last time I checked, your natal variant and nation is quite different in their tastes than mine.”

He set his hand much more gently on her knee. “And within those ten-thousand-plus nations, there are also millions of people, each with their individual tastes, which often don't match the variant or nation's average. Or you wouldn't find me attractive, either.”

Jahnan left Yira's hand where it was this time.

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/893899.html
aldersprig: (foedus)
This belongs to the Foedus Planetarum setting and the Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Story.

Previous in Story



"I suppose we could try my father," Yira Trembane had suggested. They needed an acceptable relation to void their contract, and visiting Yira's mother had turned out messily-at-best. "It's just... he lives on Korsakoff. I don't think he's going to be much help."

"I visited Korsakoff once." Jahnan wince. "It was..."

"Memorable?" Yira's teasing come out rough-voiced.

"Ouch. Yeah. Something like that." She leaned back in the seat of the Maru and closed her eyes. "I landed..."

    Nehanani Jahnan set down her little star-bouncer on the neglected landing field of Atter, Korsakoff's largest city. There were only two other ships in the field - a Foedus bureaucracy ship, probably census or taxes, and her quarry. There was dust over her quarry's ship, but Korsakoff was known for its heavy dust that coated everything - he could have been here a day or a week.

    She fitted a filtered mask over her face. Korsakoff's air wasn't exactly poisonous - but it wasn't any fun, either. Not if you wanted to leave anytime soon. Chances were, her target was just down the road. Unless he'd thought to mask, hoping she'd - ha - forget.

    She found Fess Entiror in a bar, just inside the city limits of Atter. The bartender aimed a desultory wave her way, and passed her a drink. Jahnan paid and headed for the table where Fess Entiror was already talking.

    "...and so I headed into New Malibu..."


      And there, in the middle of the town, there was this statute, this giant thing, larger than life, of a naked woman, with her hand... well, there's ladies present. And there, sitting at the base of the statue, with his hand... sorry, ladies, well, there was my target.

      And the moral of the story is, never go into New Malibu drunk, or you're just going to end up a sitting duck for whoever's hunting you."


    There was no point in talking to him; he had the glazed eyes and rambling speech patterns of someone already suffering from Korsakoff Syndrome. Jahnan couldn't resist, anyway, as she slapped the cuffs on him.

    "And the moral of the story is, never go to Korsakoff when you're on the run from the law, or you're going to end up mad-ass in Atter, waiting for whoever's hunting you."


Yira coughed. "Or, well. Maybe we could just visit my stepfather, the first one."
~

To January 8th's Thimbleful Thursday prompt, approx. 400 words
aldersprig: (foedus)
So, this story - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/880894.html - sets up a list of potential people who could attest that Yira is unfit for marriage. I know who two of them are - the second one being set up by the card - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/878993.html - but I could use more ideas. Roles/people in Yira's life? Help?
aldersprig: (foedus)
To fill square one-one on my card for [community profile] trope_bingo. Story one of a new series. No Ao3 standard warnings apply.

“I need to claim this criminal as my lawful catch and bounty.” Jahnan repeated the phrase three times - once in Standard to the clerk, then again in Standard to the translation machine, and then in the local language - all while trying to maintain her hold on the criminal in question.

“Your Tod’cxeckz’ret is awful.” Her captive jerked, trying to pull away from her grip. Jahnan held on for life and profit. Not only did Yira Trembane outmass her considerably and have at least a decimeter in height on her, but he was slippery as all space and had gotten out of his bonds three times since she’d caught him. “Here, let me.” He looked at the clerk and spat out a line of Tod’cxeckz’ret, then translated into Standard. “She’s here to collect the bounty on me.”

“You’re awfully helpful all of a sudden.” Jahnan regained her grip on Yira’s forearm. She wasn’t losing this one, not again.

“Prisons are easier to get away from than you. Sooner I’m in custody-”
Read more... )


Next:The Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Part II


Notes:
Tod’cxeckz’ret is pronounced with glottal stops in the apostrophes; the syllables rhyme with Todd, check, and whet.
Jahnan is pronounced with a hard J (John) and stress on the second syllable with a breathy sound on the H. Her full name is Nehanani Jahnan.
Yira is pronounced Yee-ruh.
Hon is pronounced on

The IPA for the above, courtesy of [personal profile] thnidu:
[tɒdʔʧɛkzʔrɛt]
[ʤɑ͡ɑ̥ˈnɑn]
[jirə]
[ɒn]
aldersprig: (foedus)
(here is me begging for help on icons)

...Here's a description of a new character, who I named before all the name suggestions came through (so I'll use the names elsewhere in the story).

Jehnan has dyed-anime-orange hair which she wears in a pixie cut: http://www.short-haircut.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Pixie-haircut-2013.jpg
(color: http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/20700000/Short-Bright-Orange-Hair-hayley-williams-hair-20709440-1000-1000.jpg)

She had mid-brown skin http://www.bellanaija.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/brownskin-Isio-Knows-Better-BellaNaija-July-2014.png (Clay 3-4)
and a sweet, cute face, which contrasts with her no-nonsense clothes and attitude.

She's got a forked tongue, a long one, although that doesn't have to make it in the picture

She's wearing an earring like this: http://mylochka.deviantart.com/art/Bajoran-Earrings-for-M4-202380669 in her right ear (green colored bits)

She's also wearing a black-widow style jumpsuit http://ep.yimg.com/ay/yhst-130817123929166/the-avengers-black-widow-lifesized-standup-1.jpg

She's built like a gymnast, on the short side, study, with very small breasts.
aldersprig: (foedus)
Okay, so for http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/878993.html ([personal profile] trope), I am creating a Whole New World!

Considering that pile of tropes, I am writing a romance/buddy comedy/something/detective story through space and possibly time. That means (lots of things, but for the moment, it means:) I have two protagonists, and because of my own pile of tropes (this is for fun, after all), one is male and one is female.

He is physically and possibly psychically stronger and bigger than her; she is likely smarter than him. He's a criminal (but not irredeemable); she's a bounty hunter.

That being said, I have nothing else determined about them, except that they are both "human".

"Human" in this case, as this is a space story, covers a wide array of Roddenberry-alien-type modifications and alterations on a bilaterally symmetrical biped with the head on top, as well as a wide range of cultures.

So: what are their names, what do they look like, what can you tell me about their history? (I know a couple things about his and nothing about hers).

Edited to add: feel free to give me a single trait, like "he wears his hair in braids" or "she has green hair."

* She's fit and wears practical clothes.
* They're travelling in her vehicle.
* Her father was a prostitute!
* She has naturally green hair but she dyes it orange.
* He has skull ridges/tentacles? that LOOK like braids.
* Assyra - female name
* Emmeth - male name
Or
* his name ends in an A
* She has a prehensile, forked tongue.
* He really loves orchestral music.

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