What Contest are you entering (in this post)? NEWBIE Character Name: Stella Archer
Character Appearance (Human): Long, smokey red hair frames a soft, rounded face. Her locks are arranged in two small, beaded tails to either side of her face, while the rest is pulled into a pony in the back. Most of her clothes are hand-made or altered, accented by a few designer pieces. Her makeup is hip, without making her appear harsh and she is just as at home with little to none at all. While she is fit, there is a softness to her. She has not yet rid herself of all her "baby fat" and a life raised on corn and corn products has given her a layer of padding over her musculature.
Body-type examples: ((Please beware that there is nudity in these links.))
[x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]Character Personality: Stella has changed much from the happy-go-lucky little girl of her early childhood days, but has not forgotten the girl she once was. She has had to embrace a maturity far beyond her 17 years to cope with her families situation. She has become somewhat stoic; trying not to let her hopes be raised too high, lest they be shattered. That is not to say that she is incapable of feeling, for much of her days are spent with a joy and exhuberance for life. However, if something encroaches on an area she feels uncomfortable sharing, she becomes serious and a tad pessimistic.
Yet her hardness has given her strength. She wasn't permanently wounded by the trauma she was forced to endure, instead she dealt with it as just another hurdle in a life that had been wrought by them. She gleaned all the good from the situation that she could -- she learned and she watched and she waited -- an attitude that gained her much, in the end. Stella is a survivor and the rough roads of her past have taught her how to hold her temper and work problems out for herself. She has learned that the best solutions often come when you take the time to think things through and her creative solutions to seemingly unconquerable problems have saved her more than once.
She tends to expect the worse from people -- understandable considering her tumultuous past – but is a loyal friend once won over. She has difficulty making friends and divulging personal information -- she says what she means and believes its better to offend than be false to her true beliefs. This, combined with her natural self-deprication makes it difficult to get to know her on a personal level.
However, she is still a small town girl at heart and no one would ever call her unadaptable. Once over the initial shock of her new destiny, she will try to make the best of a bad situation, as she has for much of her life. There is something to be said for growing up watching the corn grow.
Character Background:
Family: Bishop Archer: Stella's father. He made his living as a third grade teacher until mid 2002, when he lost his job due to the "No Child Left Behind" mandates newly implemented in public schools. His lack of a specific teaching degree made him obsolete, despite his skill as an educator. He is now employed at a men's clothing store. He is a kind man and a good father, but the men of Feral Labs easily deluded him into believing their lies. Money is a strong motivator when its something you lack.
Emma Archer: Stella's mother. Much of her life was spent as a homemaker and mother, with only a dabbling of income coming in from her forays into freelance sewing, until her husband's termination in 2002. Now, Emma works part-time at a local baby boutique in order to help the family make ends meet. On her off-time, she cares for her twin sons and daughter and looks after the home. She was saddened to see Stella go, but was easily comforted by the lies the men from Feral Labs spun for her.
Tate and Oliver Archer: Stella's eight year old twin brothers. After their "surprise" conception, they still continue to be quite the surprise to everyone who knows them. They are Yin and Yang; Tate is quiet and observant, while Oliver leads the way as loudly as possible. They are pests, like all little brothers, but they can be sweet and charming and wonderful.
Stella Elaine Archer was born during a particularly stormy summer's eve, July 22nd, 1989, in a small Iowa town. She was the first-born child of struggling lower middle class parents. Her father, Bishop, a third grade public school teacher and her mother, Emma, a freelance seamstress and homemaker. Though her parents could by no means afford a baby, they looked at their new daughter as a godsend and a gift.
Her childhood was rather uneventful and progressed much as a childhood should. She grew and played and fell and got scrapes and went to school and made friends and learned and learned and learned. The autumn after Stella turned nine, her mother gave birth to twin boys, Tate and Oliver. Their small, two bedroom home was a little cozy, but Stella rejoiced in taking care of her brothers and looked forward everyday to her time spent with them on her return from school.
The next four years passed without any remarkable events; finances were tight, but Stella had never known differently and so took no notice as she aged. What she did notice, however, were the deep, craggy lines that had appeared around her father's usually laughing eyes and the thin line that had replaced her mother's smile. She was not aware that her father had been terminated until nearly 6 months later.
It was a chilly December day, about a week before Christmas, when she returned home from school to find her family sitting in a line on the curb, a stack of packed bags and boxes littering the walk beside them. The bank had repossessed the family's home and the Archer's had no where to go. They lived in their car, an old beat-up station wagon, for a month before her mother and father found work. Each was able to convince their employers to offer a bit of an advance in light of the situation, and they moved into a small, two bedroom apartment above Emma's new place of employment.
If things had been cozy before, they were downright cramped now. Thankfully, Stella's parents understood the need a teenager had for privacy and so offered her the small bedroom, more the size of a closet than an actual bedroom, and shared the larger with the boys. It was here, that Stella developed her passion and skill at sewing.
Wanting desperately to belong, but unable to afford any of the expensive fashions the girls at school would wear, Stella began to sew her own. Taking her lead from Emma, who had always made clothes for her and the boys, Stella bought a machine second hand and and stayed up many a late night learning how to use it. In a few years, she had sold enough of her fashions to supplement a bit of her parent's income.
Things were far from easy, but the Archer's were living as happily as they could. It was August and a hot July with no air conditioning had left the family a bit wilted. Stella had just replaced the tray of ice from in front of the fan in her room when there was a knock at the door. She peeked her head out of her bedroom door just in time to see her mother and father ushering in a red-headed man in a white jacket.
Coming around the corner, she was witness to the man handing her parents a fat wad of cash, before she was confronted with the news that she was to go with him. Of course, the man had told her parents that he was from a prestigious art school and that he wanted Stella as a student, but that was all a cover to get her out of the house. The $500,000 cash didn't hurt either.
That was how Stella found herself on a helicopter, hovering over an island, destined for a fate she could not have begun to guess.
How does your Character get to/why was your character chosen for the Island? Stella was chosen for the island because she always seems to make the best out of a bad situation. Dr. Moreau and his staff was interested to see how that would translate into her transformation. There are already plenty of individuals on the island who are up-in-arms about their current situation and Stella was chosen to see if there could be a force to combat that. Someone who would embrace their changes. Revel in them. That is not to say that Stella is the only person with which this expirament could be carried out, but she was the easiest to attain, based on her parent's financial need and willingness to believe the tales told to them.
What Animal Serum do you want?: Bat-Eared Fox... Though I'm not completely attached to this animal if you think something else would be better. I'm mostly in this for the chance to create a human character going through a transformation. I just think they are cute, is all.
Describe your ideal 100% appearance: I prefer to leave this up to the artist. I will, however, say how Stella would groom herself. She would make herself as fluffy and adorable as possible. Personally, I also like the idea of her hair turning colors to match the fur of the fox, but staying a bit reddish at the tips, like dyed hair that has grown into its natural color. An homage to who she was, if you will.
Why this animal/plant for your character?: Mostly, because I think they are cute and while canines seem to be a bit cliche in the shop, Bat-eared Foxes are anything but a cliche canine. However, if the powers that be have something they feel would be more appropriate in mind, I'm more than willing to change. My only request be that Stella remain something furry and fun to touch. However, that leaves a lot of room for interpretation. Artemisia and Lamb's Ear are two of my favorite plants and I spend some time each day in my garden, petting them!
For me, this contest and indeed, the entire IoDM concept, is not about the animal, but about the human character. Exploring reactions, relationships and an ever changing environment. How would one assimilate this type of transformation? Is it possible to make it work and, in fact, to be happier because of it?
What do you think really makes this concept? In a shop based on a "real life" situation, with a "real life" time line, there are far too many larger than life characters. I must admit, that I am not the most well read of lurkers, but the journals that I
have stuck my nose into have been, by and large, filled with sex, drama and outrage. While in some cases this is justified, it seems to be a bandwagon that everyone can't help but jump on.
Few take the time to enjoy what they took pleasure in before their arrival. Few embrace their new abilities and lot in life. Most seem to just be complacent. I think that Stella could be a good counter-balance to that trend. A well-rounded, basic, character that you could imagine meeting on the street.
I find the most interesting reads to be an exploration of what ordinary people do in extraordinary circumstances. I know Stella could give that to people.
PROMPT: ((This RP prompt does NOT need to fit into your canon backstory, this is a sample of your RP)) C
"Wake up, my pet. We wouldn't want you to sleep through all the fun."
Words filtered through a discomfiting haze, rousing Stella from an uneasy slumber. She turned, begging a muffled "five more minutes," her face buried in her smoky auburn locks. Inch by inch, her body became aware of the hard, cool steel on which she was lying, until at last, her eyes popped open and she sat, fright throwing her body vertical. "Wha-- Where? Huh?" Her mind grappled to assimilate her surroundings; the sterile, white room coming to her in fits and starts. Surgical implements, gleaming in the light from the harsh florescent overhead fixtures; banks of cupboards, white and foreboding; a plastic wall, separating her from the fire-haired man on the other side. He was smiling at her and there was a sinister aspect to him, accented by the creases in his countenance.
Stella peered at him through the glass; recognition coming slowly, but hitting her with force when it came. A classmate had done a report on him for their economics class. He was Nicholas Moreau, billionaire eccentric and tycoon. How she had come to be in what appeared an examination room, being observed by such a strange and otherworldly figure, would have to be a question for another day. Rising, the teen began to cross the smooth, opalescent tile, but was halted as the man behind the glass raised his hand.
When he made no move to speak, Stella raised her own uncertain voice, "I-- could I-- I would like to leave, sir. I'm sorry, but I don't feel comfortable here. Please sir. Please." The final plea came out in a whisper as it took all she had to remain polite and calm.
"What is your rush, Stella? I've brought you all this way, had such high hopes for you, and now, just as you awaken, you decide I am no longer worthy of your company? Please, dear Stella, I implore you. Sit. Be at ease. There is much I have planned for you." His words, on the surface, were kind, charming even. But the arrogance in his delivery imbued them with a quality that made Stella shiver. As his smile broadened, her feet moved backwards of their own accord, propelling her as far from the man as possible, until she found herself leaning backwards, against the examination table once more.
"How... how do you k-know my name?" Her speech came out in an abrupt staccato and her knuckles were white from their grip on the table. "Please, sir. My family, they'll be looking for me. Please, just let me go."
The good doctor smiled again, though it never reached his eyes, and raised his hand once more, this time to push a small, gray button on a burnished nickel plate in the wall to his right. Immediately, a gas began to filter into the room from a set of ventilation ducts in the ceiling and Stella's body began to tingle. "Wha- what's going on," she questioned, her timbre rising. The tingle coalesced into burning as fur began to sprout from all the pores of her body, covering her in a baby-fine fluff. "Hurts..." she breathed, every iota of her being concentrated on staying calm, on not crying out.
Her face began to lengthen next; nose and mouth squishing and stretching, forming a muzzle that elongated as her skull became more squat. Hands thick with developing paw pads gripped either side of her head as tears trailed down her fuzzy cheeks. A whimper rang out as her ears shot towards the ceiling, reaching heights no human ear was meant to attain. Her knees buckled, turning backwards and she crashed to the ground; snout knocking against the steel table and drawing blood, the joints of her legs and arms taking on a more canine aspect. A slice of agony cut through her backside as bone, muscle and fur grew and manifested into a tail where there had once been smooth skin. Watery eyes that refused to place blame regarded the man she knew to be responsible, pleading for an explanation, but she was offered none.
Stella lay there, a bleeding husk of the girl she once was, but a strength called out from her beaten form and ever so carefully, she rose to a seated crouch and began to clean the blood and torn fabric from herself. At first, she fumbled with paws that didn't want to cooperate, but something clicked within her and she began to lick. She was hesitant, but gained confidence and before long, she was cleaning herself with such an air of dignity that it begged him try and rebuke her.
Instead, he smiled, something far more genuine that had had done in ages.
"She never screamed," he thought to himself, a glimmer of awe flickering behind his eyes. He gazed upon her one last time -- drinking her in as one does a beloved pet – and turned on his heel and left. Stella was never quite sure, but she thought she heard him speak as he left her, "You will do well."
"I think you're right," she said to the air, biting the last blood from her tail and giving it a preliminary fluff, "I think you're right."
Name: Stella Elaine Archer
Order: Carnivora
