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MoogerMint

Sparkly Pants

PostPosted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 6:46 pm


:: A Bit More Than Paperwork ::
And a bit less than an experiment


When the letter came in the mail that morning, Sterre's original expectations for the contents of the envelope perhaps couldn't be further from reality. The problem was that she was used to seeing the word "laboratory" and connect it to her line of work. Perhaps it was a group asking for assistance from another sector, or wanted clarification on her latest work, or wanted to fire her again for failing to show her face for weeks on end... it could really be any number of things.

Then again, this wasn't from any laboratory or study she had ever worked on before. In fact... she squinted at the address in the corner of the envelope from under her glasses to make sure, but it was no use. "Seven of Seven, huh?" she read aloud, flipping it over and then back again, "Never heard of it." Was it even anywhere near the area? It could very well be junk mail, but nope -- it was even nearby. How had she not heard of the place? What sort of things did they focus on in their studies?

Of course, all such questions flooded her mind as she examined the envelope, most of which could be answered by just reading what the letter was about. Alas, her curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she decided to check this place out before reading what it was that they wanted with her in the first place. Slipping the letter into the pocket of a light jacket, she was out the door a mere ten minutes after grabbing the mail from her box. If she was going to read what they had to say, she justified as she drove down the road, then she was going to have to see what they were all about and how they operated first-hand.

Unfortunately, that was just the response that they were looking for -- she must have been coming down to confirm their request, right? They weren't open for just anybody to stroll in, and Sterre found such a thought passing briefly past her mind as she moved through the gates. Whatever they were working on, it was either top secret or highly dangerous. Or even a bit of both. She couldn't help but find this that much more intriguing, despite her better judgment.

"Oh, you must be Sterre Fiore, correct?" a tech asked at the entrance, her perky voice strained by the fatigue that seeped through the words, "Can I see the notification letter?" Again with the letter... she had been stopped at the gates to show it to them as well, so had it in hand when the woman asked. Again, she got another frown, and again was asked the question, "You... you haven't opened it?" Sterre only shrugged, and the tech sighed. Sterre coming here was confirmation enough for the tech to hand her the kid, even if the letter hadn't actually been read. Loopholes. Just as long as she didn't have to take care of the brat any longer, it was all good enough. "Wait here, then. I'll be right back with her," she sighed once more, handing back the letter and hurrying off down the hall.

Huh. Her. She had said her, indicating that she was getting someone. With nothing to do but to wait for the woman to return, Sterre took the nearest wall and finally decided to look at what exactly she was being sent down here to do. She had been hoping to be able to look around the area a little, maybe get a bit of a tour to decide her opinion on the place, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen. It was almost as if the building were on lockdown; no doubt it was because she was here, an outsider. Which meant that they weren't looking for help, or offering a job to her. Bummer, she had been looking forward to cutting ties with the tightwads she currently worked with. Then again... the higher-ups seemed to have more of a noose around the employees that worked here, so maybe she should count herself lucky.

By the time the tech came back, Sterre had read the letter three times over, and she was a little less than pleased. "What is all this!?" she stormed across the open room, meeting the tech halfway. She had her mail clenched and was using it to be more forceful with her words by jabbing the air with it, to point at the tech accusingly. "You can't take care of some kid on your own, so you go out and get the most random of people to take care of it instead? What is wrong with you!?" she roared, exasperated.

The tech seemed to have heard it all before, standing her ground but looking rather tired through the heavy frown she wore. "If you didn't come down, then that would be indicating to us that you had declined. Walking in here is good enough to us as your personal signature," she stated, trying to be as blunt as possible. She pointed to the crumpled paper in Sterre's grip for her own emphasis on each of her words, "It was written there, plainly, in black. And. White."

"Who the hell operates like that!?" Sterre fumed. She may have been even more enraged if she were aware that her presence there meant nothing but moving the process forward faster, as they weren't going to take 'no' for an answer so easily. They already did their research on who would be a suitable guardian. Then again, the tech was done trying to explain how the facility worked. Sterre was obviously much too upset to listen unless it ended with her leaving empty-handed, and that was not going to happen.

Something tiny shuddered behind the tech before peeking out from behind her legs, long ears drooped possibly as far down as possible behind large, green eyes. "Angry lady!" she whimpered, speaking quietly, "I don't like her... I don't wanna go with the mean lady!" Then the child did something unexpected; through her nervousness and fear, she frowned at Sterre in defiance, and then she stuck her tongue out in anger. She didn't want to show this stranger any weakness!

"Xanthe, now c'mon, we talked about this..." the tech had long since lost her patience; she was merely running off of fumes at this point.

But she was quickly jousted by an unremarkable question from the self-imposed scientist, "And what exactly is that?" Sterre's rage was dying down as curiosity was making its comeback, but to the tech, everything was heard with barbs attached.

"Please, will you just read the paper. It has everything in there, as preliminary information. All further details are in this file," she handed it over as she brought the thick file to attention, and then led Xanthe to stand closer to Sterre, much to the toddler's nearly-silent objections -- as her legs refused to move, her tufted tail smacked the floor every so often to make a sharp clang! where the armor plating met it, much like a gavel.

The tech seemed about ready to make any other retort she needed to through her fatigue, to either one of them, but she was surprised to find that she didn't need to. "Angel and demon blood, huh?" Sterre read from the letter for a fourth time, before glancing down at the toddler. Xanthe's ears perked up to the words, craning her head to see what the woman was going to do next. Sterre only sighed, tension released as she lowered the letter to her side, the file in her other hand, "Well... if you're not going to tell me forthright, then I guess I'll just have to see how this all plays out. Interesting project you've given me."

Xanthe frowned again, but it was much less stern this time. After a pause, she concluded, "You're a funny momma." Seemed she was ready to accept her own fate, now that Sterre wasn't currently living up to the title of 'mean lady.' Seemed a better choice between the two that were offered, anyway.

[[ Word Count: 1,362 ]]
PostPosted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 6:50 pm


:: Playdate #1 ::


Link: Parkside Terrors
Participants: Seth, Damon, Xanthe, and Sterre
Stage: Toddler
Status: Ongoing

Premise: Ducks and little children... There's a reason such a combination should be supervised.

MoogerMint

Sparkly Pants


MoogerMint

Sparkly Pants

PostPosted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 6:51 pm


:: Playdate #2 ::


Link: Cinnamon in the Morning
Participants: Áróra, Vilyum, Xanthe, and Sterre
Stage: Toddler
Status: Ongoing

Premise: Cinnamon rolls make every situation much, much better.
PostPosted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 7:34 pm


:: Sterre's Log ::
Entry #1


The scattered scrawlings of hard-to-decipher handwriting littered across pages and pages over a heavy steel desk. The chicken scratch could be considered so bad that it must have been the work of a doctor, though the comment might only prove to joust a derisive scoff out of the one who it truly belonged to.

Not that she could really hear anyone that may utter such remarks. There was a reason that her more important documents weren't hand written, after all, and this was apparent with the amount of time she spent these past few evenings on her computer, typing out a mad process of keys. She decided to think of rearing a child as something of an experiment, especially considering the unknown origins of the little wonder. She could delve into the role easier that way, make it less uncomfortable for the reclusive woman with a extraordinary lack of maternal instinct. In this respect, it also made it easier to keep tabs on the child, as keeping a "diary" seemed less than appealing to her.

Quote:
Subject "Xanthe" has been adapting to her new surroundings with relative ease. The rate of adaptability is quite remarkable given her previous living arrangements. It appears as though the atmosphere does little to wane her confidence. Unknown if this is a permanent effect, or one caused by ignorant adolescence.

Subject has been able to acquire a number of acquaintances with relative ease. Social barriers seem not to be prevalent. Statistics on this matter may be skewed by the lack of normality around the town, where most of the children appear to have come from the same or similar origins. Investigation will have to commence to conclude if the same effect would occur to differing subjects.

Origin of subject is still unknown. Papers suggest that her blood originates from demonic and angelic, but this has yet to be proven. This will require further investigation as well.


Still not assured that Xanthe was of the origins her file had stated, Sterre readjusted her glasses. She knew better... it could be solved with science. Heaven and Hell? Who were they trying to fool?

MoogerMint

Sparkly Pants


MoogerMint

Sparkly Pants

PostPosted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 7:36 pm


:: Playdate #3 ::


Link: Holding out for a hero!!
Participants: Chailai and Xanthe
Stage: Toddler
Status: Ongoing

Premise: There's a fine line between "knight" and "knave," and Xanthe's determined to blur it.
PostPosted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 9:06 pm


:: The Boogeyman Doesn't Like Stories ::
It's apparently allergic to learning, too


The night was finally winding down, and Sterre was looking forward to getting off her feet for once that day. Toddlers could be such a tightly-wound bundle of energy, it was getting hard for her to keep up with the playful child between her own energy reserves and minute patience for such foolish behavior. Xanthe was in bed for the night, and had been sent to dreamland a good hour ago. Sterre's own paperwork was caught up enough for the night, realizing the physical exertion she expended keeping up with Xanthe had also drained her mentally -- there was no way she was getting back to work tonight, so frazzled.

Instead, she grabbed one of the latest volumes of a scientific journal she actively subscribed to and followed, interested in the newest studies of what appeared to be the spread of a relatively new and unheard-of virus. Okay... maybe not completely up her alley, but she supposed she could look past the frivolity of some of the articles and find one that sparked more of an interest. There were some good scientists that consistently contributed findings to this particular journal, after all. Besides, her cup of cocoa was sure to make any article that was less-than-good at least a little better.

"Mamaa!!"

She jolted, spilling a little bit of cocoa on the surface of the first page. She scowled, watching as the liquid quickly seeped into the pages beneath it. That was sure to stain... However, despite her otherwise one-track-mindedness, Sterre was quick to realize that that was no ordinary tone in her charge's voice. The urgency of the situation became that much more apparent when Xanthe came zipping out of her room, nearly tripping on her own tail in her hastiness to reach Sterre's side. Tears were streaming down her face, giving it an otherworldly gloss as she jumped onto the couch, all but colliding with Sterre. "W-What is it? What's the matter, Xan?" she managed to cough out between bouts of bewilderment. This... was not something that happened every day.

However, all she was receiving in response were frequented, choking sobs. So much so, in fact, that Sterre was sure that Xanthe was having trouble breathing. She'd never seen the toddler so terrified, especially when she was in a nearly-constant state of confidence on a regular basis. Sterre took a firm grip of the child's upper arms, tugging down slightly to get her attention, "Hey, kiddo. Hey. Listen to me; it's alright, okay? Did you see a spider or something?" Xanthe choked and shook her head quickly, ears flopped down her back. Sterre tried to lower her head to look at the toddler more at eye-level, but this proved impossible, "Then what's the matter?"

It took many more minutes before Xanthe settled down enough to sputter anything out of her mouth, encased in a thick layer of a panic attack. Off in the distance of her mind, Sterre wondered if such a thing was common for children so young. What in the world got her so upset?

"I... I..." she sniffled loudly, trying to stop her voice from cutting out on her, "I had a bad dream, I th-think."

"Really?" Sterre blinked, "Is that all?" She saw as the armored child shuddered violently at the fragment of a memory, and Sterre immediately felt like inserting a foot into her own mouth. She cringed instead, "Was it really that bad?" Reflexively, Xanthe's bottom lip began to quiver, on the verge of another onslaught of tears. Quickly, Sterre tossed her book to the side table and gave the toddler an awkward hug, "Shh, shh, now don't start that again!"

Xanthe tried to silence her sobs, attempting to hide the tears with her tiny hands, "I-It was scary!"

"Okay! Okay, let's see here... okay..." Sterre kept her own voice going as she tried to think of a way to get Xanthe to brighten up again, to forget what it was that had scared her so much. "You... hey, you have some picture books, don't you? Why don't you go and bring those out, okay?" the woman offered, perking Xanthe's ears and knocking her into glancing up with bloodshot eyes, curious despite her terror. Elaborating, she added, "I'll read it to you, okay?"

♦ ♦ ♦

"... and then they lived happily ever after," Sterre sighed, the ending annoying her logic-based mind. She turned to close the book from the back, "The E-- hey!"

Xanthe's arm shot out to block the book from shutting completely, "What's this one?"

Sterre opened the back of the book again to see where Xanthe's stubby finger was pointing. She frowned, glancing at the toddler's curious glance before responding, "That's an E. And the whole thing spells 'End.' Wait a minute... yeah, you didn't know that, did you?"

Xanthe giggled, "It looks funny! And it looks hungry!" Well, it was sure obvious by this point that Xanthe could find amusement in the smallest of things. Were letters really that interesting? She answered that mental question with another, "And that one looks like a smile! What's that one called?"

Sterre had to snicker at the simplicity of this new-found distraction, "That's a U!"

The toddler stuck her tongue out at that statement, for a moment thinking that her mom was trying to crack a joke, "That's not a me! I'm a me!"

"Xanthe..." Sterre started off on a stern note, making the child wonder if she had said something wrong. Or worse: if she was going to be sent back to her room. Immediately, her emerald eyes went wide in silent fear, but her momma continued on, "Do you want me to teach you your alphabet?"

Her tufted tail drooped, stunned into submission. There was a brief pause before a smile cracked the barriers of her terror, "A-huh!"

Sterre had weighed her options in those brief moments of exposition, coming to the conclusion that wearing her out into slumber was a much better solution than to send the frightened child back into the depths of what had terrified her in the first place. There were more pros than there were cons in this situation: she'd be learning something practical to boot! Could she really ask for more?

Well... perhaps less fear.

[[ Word Count: 1,042 ]]

MoogerMint

Sparkly Pants


sevenofsevenmule
Captain

PostPosted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 10:17 pm


It would be on a Saturday that you open your mail box (if you have one) and notice there is a rather thick envelope stuffed in there. There is no postage stamp and a very vague return address. But you recognize the font and the company's name. 'Seven of Seven Inc' scrawled in majestic font across the upper left hand corner. As you open it, you may strangely find yourself drawn to the letter, there is a mass of notes inside. They read as follows:

Letter
Congratulations! You have managed to succeed in raising your child. (IE: Not killing him or her or getting killed yourself. Haha we kid of course.) We would like an update from you on the following:

Guardians Name:
Child's Name:
Sin:
Virtue:
Gender:
Current Attitude:
Likes:
Dislikes:
Any abnormal growths: (if any, example: Feathers molting, horns growing larger, scars )
Current hair style:
Current clothing preferences:
Dominant celestial trait: (The sin or virtue)

Please summarize in your own words how difficult or easy it was taking care of your child. Did you manage to care for them in a kindly fashion? Or were you forced to discipline them?
As well do not be alarmed if you suddenly find your child achieving a massive growth spurt in the next little while. We are finding that the children from our facility have strange growing patterns and are rather unpredictable. Although please let us know if anything unexpected occurs.

Sincerely the technicians from Seven of Seven Inc.

Ps. Please just leave your letter back in your mail box one you have completed it our courier will pick it up.

Thank you.



You would notice the letter seems overly friendly...strange since the scientist were so ...cold before.

(Just take the from Guardians name to Dominant Celestial trait and pm it to the mule, the summarization doesn't have to be long just have fun with it.)
 
PostPosted: Sun Aug 28, 2011 2:13 pm


:: Of Railings and Teeth ::
I swear, I'm too stringy!


It had been weeks since Xanthe's last bout of bad dreams, and it was finally becoming a faded memory of fear with nothing to associate it with. Xanthe had remembered the feeling and didn't want it to happen again, so for days afterward, she had needed something to preoccupy her time until she passed out for the night. However, it hadn't happened again, the toddler being much too tired to remember any sort of dreams she had upon awakening, let alone any of the feelings that stirred during them.

So she braved her room on her own, and met with success. She cringed at the thought of what someone may think of her, with all her prowess at courage and her strive for conquest in the face of that which was unfair only to crumble into tears at the sight of her own bed. But no, not again. No more. She had finally conquered that feat as well! Dreams couldn't hurt her, only scare her.

And that was the problem. She found herself awake in bed, staring up at a ceiling that she could no longer see in the darkness. The dreams couldn't hurt her, they couldn't touch her... but there was so many other physical things in this room. Even the shadows seemed to move with a life of their own, though she couldn't actually see them move. Or wait... no, could she? They seemed to scatter like snow on an off-air television station, prickling, boiling. She rubbed her eyes before looking at the darkness again, but the effect stayed.

She turned to her side and closed her eyes again, realizing she still saw it on the opposite side of her eyelids. Did the darkness always do that? So it wasn't moving, was it? There wasn't anything on the inside of her eyelids, so she must have just been seeing things... But it still made her heart race as though the shadows above had just smiled at her mockingly.

A faint scuffing sound came to her ears and she sat bolt-upright, yanking her covers to her chin as though they could protect her from anything. "Wh-Who's there!?" she growled, trying to sound brave, but the noise had disappeared. Had she scared off whatever had made the sound? She glanced around the room, seeing familiar objects silhouetted in a faint ghostly light and adorned with the snow of darkness. Her tail twitched slightly, and the sound came back. It was then that she realized the leg of her bed was bumping the wall, and her shoulders slackened at the realization. Moments later, she was back against the mattress, trying to find sleep in her head.

Tossing and turning, the lack of sleep and hyperactive senses were beginning to make her stomach churn. She closed her eyes tighter, as though it would summon sleep for her. She let her mind wander around for a bit without her, making notes on things she had witnessed, things she wanted to accomplish, what she might do tomorrow... and when her mind came back to her, the thoughts immediately escaped her so that she could think on them again if she so wished.

After a while, she realized that she felt slightly tingly. Perhaps that was good... perhaps that meant that her body was falling asleep. It was about time... But what if that wasn't it? Her legs felt prickly, beginning to feel a little itchy... was that normal? She opened her eyes, as though that would help her see if her legs were actually falling asleep or not, but a thought came to her mind instead. She twitched her legs up, yelping quietly as she pulled them closer to herself while examining the bed where they were lying. She didn't see anything. Her imagination was getting the best of her.

Lying back down, Xanthe closed her eyes and started focusing on getting her heart to slow down. She couldn't sleep if it was beating so hard! She listened to the pulse of blood flow so loud in her ears, and her mind began to croon for it to settle down, as if talking to an upset baby.

And then a whisper of a gurgle came to her ears. It wasn't from Xanthe's stomach, but she decided to ignore it. It was probably just like the scuffling sound from before... only something else was making the sound. But then the sound seemed to turn down the volume on itself, or as though the darkness had put a bowl over her head to lessen it. Her eyes wouldn't open, though; she didn't want to get worked up again over nothing, even though she already was. It was just her body falling asleep. It was just her body falling asleep!

A hiss, and then her body went stiff. She wasn't just refusing to open her eyes, she found that she couldn't. She couldn't move her limbs. She couldn't even twitch a finger. The tingling came back, and with it, the terror. She thought she heard something in her ears, as if someone were right there with her. A cough, maybe? A laugh? Or... or a low roar?

A sharp sting in her arm, and she rolled herself off her bed as soon as she was able to. She pulled herself to the far wall, a thought in the back of her mind hoping that she wasn't scuffing up the floor with the metal on her body as she could barely move her legs at all. She whimpered in fear, grabbing for the doorknob as soon as she could lift herself up off the ground enough to do so. Taking a few steps out of her room that were less-than-quiet, she stopped herself when she realized the whole house was dark. Sterre had already gone to bed, and she was much too scared to be able to wake her...

Quietly, she snuck back into her room. For a few moments, she kept her eyes on the grain of the door, now closed again. Slowly, she turned back toward her bed, deciding on what she could do now. But she couldn't bring herself to move any closer -- the bed looked as though it were wobbling. Was it moving toward her!?

She shrieked, silver fur standing on end, and rushed to the open closet. She practically slammed the door behind herself, huddling in a far corner as she peeked at the crack under the door from beneath a jacket much too big for her tiny frame. She couldn't see into her room from this angle in such little lighting, but it made her feel a pinch more secure in where she was hiding.

She jumped at the feeling of something light and warm landing on her knee, only to find that she was crying. She hadn't even noticed. She pulled her knees even closer to her chest, shivering, and came to the conclusion that she would be spending her night in the closet...

Because nothing was worse than waking from a bad dream, only to find yourself in the belly of the beast.

[[ Word Count: 1,184 ]]

MoogerMint

Sparkly Pants

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