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Topic: Kaolin -- #019 (Read 189 times) |
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Shayrah
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Kaolin -- #019
« Thread started on: Oct 29th, 2007, 5:07pm » |
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ID#: 019
Name: Kaolin
Gender: Female
Age: Small child
Owner: Marbletoast
Clan: clanless
Bio: Orphan
Traits: -none-
Known Relatives: -none-
Character Concept: Wishing for independence and recognition, willful and prideful, clever, quick, and creative
---Description
She is a thin, wiry Murrah with a pale coat and deep red eyes. She's quick, but not very strong, and will lose the little scrapes she starts most of the time.
---Personality
Strong-willed with a tendancy toward being selfish and obstinant. Kao often finds herself playing alone and is content with this because it seems whenever she is with other young Murrah, she always ends up in trouble. Kao often resorts to negative interaction, but as she is very young, she is still highly malleable and sometimes shows great potential for compassion as well when she does not feel she must prove herself in some way (or she thinks no one is looking). She aspires to be a runner; they are well respected and face danger every day, something she sees as exciting. She also knows well the story that she was run through and saved, and part of her deeply respects that concept.
---History
Kaolin was born in Pelmei. She never knew her father, as he had been traded by the slavers before she was born, but she remembers her mother still, a little. It was most likely illness that killed Kao's mother, and as an infant Kao was rescued and run through the Nightmare tunnel. Once in Haurah, Kao was raised in an orphan den, becoming a surprisingly bitter child. She often tells her matrons how much she wishes she could leave the orphan den, especially to become a runner.
---Strengths/Abilities
Physical agility and speed. A clever and quick mind. Creativity, sometimes used for good like her growing interest in artistic creation, but also often used for bad, like her hatched plans of escape from the den.
---Weaknesses/Flaws
Childish selfishness and cruelty at times, and a tendancy to lash out physically. Too often thinks too much of her own ability and overestimates how much a small Murrah can do on her own. A braggart, when she gets the chance.
Name one each of the following...
What does he/she seek? Recognition
What does he/she love? Ability
What does he/she fear? Dependence
What does he/she believe is "true"? Survial at all cost
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Marbletoast
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"You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club." - Jack London
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Re: Kaolin -- #019
« Reply #1 on: Jul 16th, 2008, 12:16pm » |
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Threads
Closed
- Around the Pond
- In the Woods
Active
-Playtime
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| « Last Edit: Apr 2nd, 2009, 03:37am by Marbletoast » |
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"Worlds without end couldn't hold her." - Windmills, Toad the Wet Sprocket
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Marbletoast
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"You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club." - Jack London
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Re: Kaolin -- #019
« Reply #2 on: Apr 2nd, 2009, 03:40am » |
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Other Stories Featuring Kaolin
- Three's Company
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| « Last Edit: Sep 25th, 2009, 09:54am by Marbletoast » |
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"Worlds without end couldn't hold her." - Windmills, Toad the Wet Sprocket
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Marbletoast
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"You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club." - Jack London
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Re: Kaolin -- #019
« Reply #3 on: Apr 6th, 2009, 01:16am » |
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Kaolin's Discovery
Complete
Selection:
Kaolin sat quietly gaping up the hole again. “Inside?”
“You must get close to them.”
Kaolin turned back to the older Murrah. “Who? Who’s up there? I knew there must be someone, or they wouldn’t keep coming here, but when I asked—”
“You’ll see,” he said, bringing his hoof back down. “Go on, I’ll wait for you here.”
Kaolin stared at him as she had stared at the tunnel a moment ago. This was very unlike any adult she had ever met, and she felt strangely awkward because of it. And he had such large, pale eyes that never seemed to blink. “Um, alright…” she said, pushing herself back onto her hind hooves. “I’m brave enough,” she said quickly. “It’s just, I didn’t know how.”
“Of course,” he said, still staring at her. “You’d better hurry. I suspect someone will be missing you soon.”
Kaolin nodded and, after taking a deep breath, began scrambling into the dark hollow. Once she had climbed about a grown Murrah’s height, she paused and called down to the Murrah she could not see, “You really will stay, right? I mean, just so I know.”
“I’ll be here,” his voice said, so Kaolin resumed her climbed.
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| « Last Edit: Oct 28th, 2009, 08:41am by Marbletoast » |
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"Worlds without end couldn't hold her." - Windmills, Toad the Wet Sprocket
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Marbletoast
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"You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club." - Jack London
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Re: Kaolin -- #019
« Reply #4 on: Sep 25th, 2009, 09:56am » |
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Pretty Girl
Ani DiFranco
I am not a pretty girl.
That is not what I do.
I ain't no damsel in distess,
and I don't need to be rescued.
So put me down, punk.
Wouldn't you'd prefer a maiden fair?
Isn't there a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere?
I am not an angry girl,
but it seems like I've got everyone fooled.
Every time I say something they find hard to hear
they chalk it up to my anger
and never to their own fear.
And imagine you're a girl
just trying to finally come clean
knowing full well they'd prefer you were dirty
and smiling.
And I am sorry
I am not a maiden fair,
and I am not a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere.
And generally my generation
wouldn't be caught dead working for the man,
and generally I agree with them;
trouble is you gotta have youself an alternate plan.
And I have earned my disillusionment.
I have been working all of my life,
and I am a patriot.
I have been fighting the good fight.
And what if there are no damsels in distress?
What if I knew that, and I called your bluff?
Don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down
Whether or not you ever show up?
I am not a pretty girl
I don't want to be a pretty girl
No, I want to be more than a pretty girl
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"Worlds without end couldn't hold her." - Windmills, Toad the Wet Sprocket
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Marbletoast
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"You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club." - Jack London
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Re: Kaolin -- #019
« Reply #5 on: Oct 28th, 2009, 08:42am » |
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How Christmas Came
Written in responce to Shayrah's gift-giving entry, Dihano to Kaolin
~
“Wake and greet the sun, fawns!”
The den mother Ranoria woke them with the same words every morning. Kaolin knew the metallic clatter of her mind voice almost before it started, the way you can sometimes feel the thunder before it booms. She curled tighter on her mat, wrapped her tail around her legs, and hoped this morning she wouldn’t have to get up and stand in a breakfast line.
“Everyone, everyone,” Ranoria sang in their heads. She was purring and rubbing the backs of still sleeping fawns, stepping over and around them as if they were delicate eggs. Kaolin watched her coming through the space between her arms. If the den mother could have seen the expression in those dark red eyes, she might have reconsidered reaching down and stroking Kaolin. No sleeping late today, Kao, she said with a throaty purr. Today is Christmas!
Like a whipweed in the wind, Kaolin sprang up, her eyes now wide and—if Ranoria wasn’t mistaken—almost terrified. “Christmas!”
At Kaolin’s mental exclamation, the cry was picked up by fawns all over the room. “Christmas! Christmas!” The room hummed with silent celebration and quite audible bleats and stamping.
“Yes, yes!” Ranoria said, trying to still them with arm motions. “Yes, Christmas!” She stood and left Kaolin to try to reorganize some of the chaos. Fawns all over were jabbering about the holiday their guardians had told them all about or, if they had no guardian, their friends had told them all about. Presents! Food! Song! Weren’t these all going to happen today? Many of the fawns hadn’t realized these things had been happening all along, ever since the word Christmas buzzed into the Solace Camp. The festivities had rarely found their way to the crowded orphan dens, but the matrons had made up their minds to—at the least—make the one actual Christmas day special for the orphaned Murrah. The fawns knew it, and they squealed and tumbled across each other in anticipation.
Most of them did, anyway. On a little mat near the wall, a pale little doe fawn with crimson eyes tried to shrink against the stone. Her ears were back and her hooves were pulled up against her chest. Christmas! She felt a burning behind her eyes and in her chest. She’d heard what they said. Families and good food, presents and laughter and singing. Kaolin quivered from horns to hooves and shrank further. Christmas wasn’t coming here—didn’t the others know that? Christmas didn’t fit in the tight, hot spaces between hungry fawns. Christmas couldn’t light up a space so dark with dreams. Christmas was for Dlehn, maybe, and for Kalica and Oriis—for the big Murrah who sometimes came to make sure she was alive but never took her away. It belonged to the voice in her head. Maybe it belonged to some of the other fawns, but it certainly didn’t belong to her.
With a little yelp, Kaolin sat up again and glared behind her, certain she’d see some kind of beetle or maybe a stone—something to have poked and moved against her back. It hasn’t been sharp, but when she’d leaned against it, it was cold and hard and wiggly. Gold! The word was mentally whispered only to herself, and her eyes, so tight before, blossomed wide with wonder. She snatched up the muted bronze bangles that lay between she and the stone wall and cupped them in her hooves. There were four hoops that winked with a gentle sheen when she moved them in the lantern light. They were wound together, hooked each into each so they could not come undone, and when they moved they clattered like music. Kaolin almost hurt with delight. They were hers! Certainly, there they were, lying on her mat. She’d practically sat on them. They couldn’t anyone else’s. Furtive eyes skipped over the room, scurrying between fawns as they were herded toward the entrance. No one was looking for anything. No one mentioned missing metal hoops. They had come to Kaolin in the night. With one last look, Kaolin turned back to the wall and slipped the rings over her foreleg. They were wide enough she could push them almost to her shoulder, and they would come jingling back down again when she did.
Kaolin!
A den mother was watching her, a glint that wasn’t very Christmasy in her eyes, and Kaolin scrambled to her hooves, too overwhelmed by her luck to argue.
Where did you get those? Ranoria’s eyes narrowed as she watched Kaolin caress the bracelets.
Found ‘em. They…were just here, when I woke up. Kaolin lifted her eyes to the den mother, and Ranoria’s opened in surprise at the intensity of the little fawns expression. They’re mine. They must be— She hardly dare say it, but what else could it be? A little breath of awe escaped her. My Christmas.
Ranoria studied the small, narrow face for a moment. She looked for the hardening of the muscles along the jaw, for the narrowing of the eyes, for the clenching of fists that generally accompanied Kaolin’s accounts of acquisitions. Kaolin’s eyes, however, were large and dancing with morning that came through the mouth of the den. Her hooves could not stop touching the bracelets. She did not appear to even see Ranoria.
Suddenly, the den mother smiled and put out a hoof. Yes, Kaolin. They’re your Christmas. Come on, let’s get breakfast.
For the first time, Kaolin took the den mother’s hoof quietly and followed her lead, her eyes never leaving the bands of bronze.
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"Worlds without end couldn't hold her." - Windmills, Toad the Wet Sprocket
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