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This is a journal for Foenixfyre to use as she coaxes her Fenthry out of its feather and has lots of fun adventures with it.

Please don't post here unless Foenix has given you permission!

Freya
All the work with Freya seems to be paying off. Though she can't speak English like most of the other fenthries, she's becoming quite fluent in ASL. And now she has the added maturity and control to use it well! Freya now stands at just over six inches in height, and she's a very friendly little fenthry, if a bit shy around large crowds of other people and fenthries, especially those she doesn't know.

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6/17/04 7:45pm
Well, dinner's almost ready to be put into the oven, and I think this is the perfect time to make the first entry in this journal.

Freya is currently wafting around the room, blown by the breeze from the overhead fan. She scared me half to death when she started; as soon as I'd stepped into the bedroom and turned on the fan, it was if she had purposefully jumped out of my pocket!

I immediately snatched at her, but she slid right out of my fingers. The way she fluttered at me, it was as though she were laughing, saying "You're such a silly worry-wort! I'm just having a little fun . . ."

I could sit here for hours, just watching her. She's dancing around on the air, throwing off little gold flashes every now and again. It's beautiful.

Having seen Molly earlier this evening, I can't imagine how lovely Freya will be when she reaches that first transformation. Tomorrow I think I'll ask Louhi a little bit more about the specifics, and how it's achieved . . .

But for now, Freya's finally come back to land on the desk, next to the keyboard. And dinner still needs cooking, so I'd better get to work.

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6/17 11:30

After cooking dinner, I went out to check the mail. I'm actually rather proud of myself for remembering, because I often go through most of a week before thinking to check, and the box can become pretty full . . .

Astonishingly enough, there was a package waiting there for me. When I opened it up, there was a light blue cell-phone. Attatched was a note that read "Hi…just wanting to say to everyone who owns a Fenthry that…this way we can all keep in touch, its got everyone else’s phone number and a top up card for about 30 pounds enclosed, enjoy"

I would assume by this that every one of the other owners has received a phone as well. What a lovely gift! It's too late to call anyone tonight (and I would really prefer to meet all of the others face-to-face first before calling them . . .)

Freya is lying on a cushion that I've placed next to my keyboard. It's a deep sapphire velvet, and she looks quite beautiful there. I said as much to her when I first placed her there, and she shivered as if in agreement. This is a little girl who knows how to set herself off to advantage! I wonder if she might be a little vain when she transforms?

It's both frightening and comforting to think that I am now responsible for the protection and care of this delicate new life. I have, and still do, own other pets. I have cared for new infants. One would think that this sort of experience would leave me feeling prepared for Freya's coming . . . but it really doesn't.

Freya can't transform without me. It is up to me to usher this fragile being into my world, and I have to be sure that it will be safe and happy for her.

I think I can do it, and do it well.

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6/17 12:10am

I told myself that I was going to be good. I told myself that I was going to walk away from the computer and spend a good couple of hours addressing wedding invitation, because they really do need to be sent out tomorrow. But something really fascinating just occurred, and I think it's important that I note it down.

I usually watch television while addressing envelopes. Well, a little tv usually occupies some part of my evening. I like to watch crime dramas and such while I knit, or cross-stitch . . . And Thursday nights are book-marked specifically for CSI and "Without a Trace." But tonight, for some reason, I didn't feel like the additional distraction of a visual medium. So I turned on the CD player.

The music in there (it's a 6-CD deal) is a rather eclectic mix. Between my fiance and I, we have quite a collection of music. I love Broadway, Celtic, Renaissance . . . and of course many of the great European composers. Greg, my hubby-to-be, prefers something a bit more modern. He's taught me to recognize the difference between Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin.

Oh, did I ever mention that I was engaged? Greg and I met during my sophomore year of college. He was currently finishing up a Master's in Computer Science, while I had just registered as a dual concentrator in English Lit. and Medieval Studies. Not a lot in common . . . But we both love to dance. We really met through an ex of mine, but really cam eto know each other through Brown University's competative ballroom dance team. Eight months after we started dating, he asked me to marry him. So, almost two years later, we're preparing for our September wedding. It's exciting, but also very stressfull. Such as dealing with the 200-something wedding invitations, all of which I am hand addressing (I've been practicing calligraphy for months).

So, back to that music. I just picked up the remote and hit "play," content to listen to whatever came first.

The Dresden Dolls started playing. This is a rather odd duo. The woman has an amazing voice. But that's not the important bit.

Following that CD, one of my celtic mixes came next. The reaction from Freya was stunning. She almost seemed to leap up into the air again, carried once more by the currents from the ceiling fan. As the drums rolled, and the pipes fluted their etherial sound through the room, Freya twisted and spun in a dance more wonderful then anything I've seen by any professional dance corps. I completely forgot about the invitations, content to watch my feather as she enjoyed the music I've listened to my entire life.

I just occured to me that Freya may never have heard music before. I don't know all that much about the hat collection that she and her fellow Fenthry were saved from. An existance without music couldn't be much of an existance at all, in my opinion. So I've left the music on, trying to get a better idea of what Freya prefers.

For the most part, she seems to love the older music that I'm so fond of. She didn't like my collection of Gregorian chants, although I suppose there isn't much there for her to work with. She surprised me with an apparant fascination for Pink Floyd, and seemed quite put out when that particular CD ended.

Oh, heavens. I've just noted the time. It's past midnight, and I have work tomorrow. I'll have to catch Freya and return her to the velvet cushion. Hopefully she's tired herself out enough that she'll remain there throughout the night . . .

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6/18 11:20 am

I'm sighing a bit as I write this. I don't remember having ever written in a journal before, unless it was for some school assignment. I didn't realize quite how addictive it can be, to have a place where I can write down my thoughts.

I'm at work right now. As usual, there's very little actual work for me to do, so I've been pissing the morning away. I can't always grab a computer, so this is a nice little break from the hour I just spent doing almost nothing.

Freya has made herself quite comfortable in my hair. Seems to me that's how I've seen several of the other owners carrying theirs, and when I suggested it this morning, Freya fluttered happily. I'm coming to slowly understand her attempts to communicate with me. I'm really not sure just how the magic works, but Freya does seems to have some tiny amount of control over her form, as when she danced in the fan breeze last night. A certain amount and typs of shivering or fluttering can indicate pleasure, or fear, or simple agreement.

In any case, I usually wear my waist-length hair piled up on top of my head, and Freya slid quite comfortably in among the auburn strands. When I, nervous that she might fall out, suggested adding a clip or pin of some sort, she shivered derisively. End of that suggestion . . .

I've noticed that Freya gets a great deal of enjoyment from pretty colors and forms, so Iim trying to come up with some sort of jewelry that she can wear. Even as a feather, it shouldn't be to hard for me to devise something. Perhaps a very light dangle of gemstones that attaches to an elastic, that can then be stretched around the quill.

I do indeed think that, when Freya transforms and can communicate more directly, she's going to be a rather vain little creature. Of course, as gorgeous as she is, who could blame her?

*sigh* I've just been asked to make some photocopies for a patron. I'll be back in a bit. And I think I'll drop in by the shop during my lunch break.

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6/18 1:05pm

I'm sitting here in the shop, and something occured to me. I don't really want this to be one of those private journals that I lock away and let no one read. That just feels too much like one of those frilly little pink deals that young girls have. The ones with those cheap locks, so the girls can write down the names of their crushes without their brothers reading it.

No, I'm going to leave this journal out and open most of the time, so that those I've invited can read it and write in it, if they so choose. Hopefully, people will share what's going on in their lives, or simply what they're feeling at the moment.

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6/19 12:20am
Freya and I are relaxing. There's a Mozart CD playing softly in the background, and Freya is fluttering her lovely, soft tip against the tip of my nose. I keep expecting her actions to make me sneeze, but they aren't, oddly enough.

I just finished up a very stressful auction. In honor of their 100th page, EverDark and Ray auctioned off 9 Nimues. Well, 7 and a set of twins, actually. I had my heart set on a certain few, and was holding my own. But one by one, they were picked off by autobuy. It broke my heart. I was all set to leave, but . . . my eye fell on the twins. I decided, then and there, that I wasn't going to lose. And so I started bidding. There were a lot of people supporting me, and it warmed my heart. However, there was another person bidding on them; the price was growing steep and the auction was quickly drawing to a close. At that point, right when I was ready to give up again, a wonderful stranger by the name of Cinderfae joined me. We would split both the fee and the twins, although we promised to keep them close together if we won. It seemed only right.

Minutes were slipping by. We were firing off bids left and right. The auction was slated to close at 10:30, EST. I glanced at the clock, and saw that by Gaian time, it was 10:30. I dashed off a bid and desperately submitted it. I didn't expect that the bid would have a chance . . .

But at 10:34, Gaian, time, EverDark posted that the auction was over, and that the more recent bid was the winner. That bid was mine.

There were some hard feelings. EverDark was going by her clock, not the Gaian one. I was accused of editing a bid. There were some harsh words exchanged.

In the end, it was decided that Cinder and I were the lucky winners of the beautiful twins.

And right now, I'm fighting off feelings of guilt.

Freya's softly brushing my cheek now. It's a comforting feeling. I hope that when she transforms, and when Aequitas emerges from her pearl, they will become friends.

But for now, I just feel drained. And if my heart ever slows down from its furious adrenoline rush, I'm looking forward to some sleep.

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6/19 12:15pm

It's an absolutely gorgeous Saturday afternoon, and I'm about to head over to the shop. Freya and I have finally reached an agreement on how I'll carry her with me. After yesterday's tangle debacle, I told her that I refused to devote 30 minutes of every single day to getting her out of my hair.

She didn't like that one bit. Have you ever seen a feather frown at you? Well, Freya does a very good job at it. She is one opinionated little thing.

We've finally agreed that I'll weave her into a single small braid that will hang at the side of my face. That way, she's still right there, and can see everything that I do, but there won't be as great a risk of her falling out or getting knotted up in the strands of hair.

I think I'll take the scenic route to the shop. Freya hasn't seen all that much of the world yet; mostly the archives where I work, the shop, my apartment, and the streets I take to get from one place to the next.

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6/20 11:30am

It's another gorgeous day, and Freya and I just came back from the park. There's a really nice little one only 3 blocks or so from my apartment. I brought some knitting and a book, so there'd be something to do. I rarely do well at the whole sit-and-do-nothing type of thing.

Once we reached the park, I took her to my favorite sitting spot. There's a lovely little niche on one side, with all of these old willow trees. Sitting right in the middle, I receive just the right amount of sun, just the right amount of shade, and a gret deal of privacy.

I knit for a bit, talking to Freya the entire while. I don't even remember what I spoke of; she flittered and fluttered and spun in her own way of responding. Odd, how you can practically hold an entire conversation when you are the only one with words.

Eventually however, my fingers grew tired of manipulating the knitting needles. This particular project is an afgan with some difficult yarns and very difficult patterns. After all the work I've put into addressing wedding invitations, my hands have been very tired; too tired to manage the dexterity required to knit. So I pulled the book, a romantic murder-mystery, out of my enormous shoulder bag, and proceeded to read to myself.

Freya, of course, grew very bored with this. Soon she began to knock against my cheek in the partcular shivering pattern that means she's irritated. I laughed, because no one likes to be ignored or left out, and Freya especially. So I started over (I was only half-way through the first chapter) and began to read aloud.

"Naked in Death," by J.D.Robb, is not the first book I would have chosen to read to my beautiful golden Fenthry. But as we read deeper into the web of words, of suspects and love, Freya stilled. I could feel her against my face as she fought to control her excited flitters.

Why did it take me so long to realize that Freya would enjoy a good tale? I feel s though I ought to be ashamed of myself for denying her this pleasure for so long.

When she transforms, I wonder what she'll make of the television.

But now I have to put down my pen, for there are things to do, and people to see. I hope to stop in at the shop later this evening. The number of adopted Fenthry has sky-rocketed, as I knew it would, and I want to meet some of the newer owners.

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6/21 1:10pm

Have I ever mentioned how much I dislike Mondays? Worst day of the week, seriously. When I woke up this morning, all I could think was "Oh, god. The start of yet another dismally eternal week, at a job I can't wait to be finished with." And that thought led to depression over the fact that I have no job prospects after the end of summer.

Well, one thing led to another. I went into the bathroom to take a shower, and didn't realize that Freya had hitched a ride in the tangled mess of my hair. I'm not entirely sure how she moved from her little velvet pillow on my desk to my hair, but she managed it. Makes me a little nervous when I think how much easier it will be for her to move around once she's transformed . . .

In any case, I was so sleepy that I didn't notice she was clinging to my hair when I stepped into the shower. Results? One unhappy, worried human and one very unhappy, very wet Fenthry feather.

It took me about 30 minutes to get her dried, after which I managed a quick shower in very cold water. Not the best start to the week, huh?

I'm at work now. Both of my boss-types are away at lunch, so I took advantage of their absence to try reading Freya another story. This time, I brought something that I felt was more appropriate then a murder mystery. I brought my well-worn, much-loved book of Grimm's fairy tales.

I'm not sure why so many people prefer the cleaned-up versions of these stories. The original Grimms' tales are so much deeper, so much realer (if that makes any sense). And I felt that Freya would appreciate these more.

So far, we've read through The Little Mermaid and The Little Goosegirl. Both are bittersweet tales involving some sort of transformation. That wasn't a conscious choice on my part, but Freya seemed to absorb both with some real thought on her part.

As soon as I finish this entry, I'm heading over to the shop. I need to spend some time with other Fenthry adoptees, in a place totally disassociated with my regular life. And I want Freya to be used to D-chan, and Louhi, and Owyn and Owyln, and the others.

After spending that brief amount of time with Owyln and Molly, I spent some intense time thinking about the Fenthries' place in this world. They're so fragile, so tiny. I don't think Freya will be quite as timid as Molly. But I do expect some of her first experiences to scare her. Whatever I can do to lessen that initial fear will be good for both of us.

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6/21 4:50pm

Thank god the work day is almost over. I'm ready to pack up my bags and head over to the gym, and Freya is revving to head out with me. I've received some very odd looks when I take her along with me -I suppose it does look off to be doing aerobics an dlifting weights with a golden feather hanging out of my hair- but what can I say? Freya really loves it. I expect that once she transforms, she'll want me to produce a miniature little set of weights and an aerobic step. We'll see how long it lasts. (After all, it's one thing to be a light little feather that bounces around in the hair of the person working out. It's something else entirely to jump around and lift those weights yourself!)

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((First off, just a little note of how annoying Gaia has been lately . . . *Growl*))

6/22 10:10pm

Freya transformed today!!!!!!

She's absolutely beautiful; just takes my breath away ever time I look at her.

I was walking in the door this evening, after a long and very trying day at work. I was even more frustrated that I had not been able to make it into the Fenthry shop today. I was hot, and exhausted . . . and Freya had been very grumpy all day, for some unknown reason. So, needless to say, I was at the end of my rope.

I turned to close the door, and damned if Freya didn't leap out of my hair. Well, I figured that it was a repeat of her little performance the first time I brought her home; she was just flying up to dance in the fan breeze. Well, I really wasn't in the mood, and I spun around to grab at her, yelling out an exasperated "Freya, damn it-"

There was a bright flash of light, as if someone had set off a fire-cracker inside of my kitchen. And the light engulfed my little golden feather.

I swear, my heart stopped. I leapt forward, intent only upon saving my darling. But the light disappeared, and there she was . . . hanging in mid-air.

I instinctinvely held out my hands to catch her, and it's a very good thing I did. I can't imagine the damage that could have come to her if Freya had fallen that far to the ground. But I did catch her, and I froze.

She sat up, rubbing her luminous eyes with those perfect little hands. She looked up at me, and a huge smile bloomed over her face.

I fell in love with her for the second time.

Her body is the same beautiful deep gold as her feather-form, with the same shimmering swirls of lighter gold and rimmed dots of sky blue. Tiny blue wings, the same shade as the dots over her body, sprout from between her little shoulder blades. Her hair matches the lighter gold swirls . . . and her eyes are indescribable. I've read poetry that compares a lover's eyes to the sky at mid-day, to the color of a blue-bird. None of these descriptions can even touch the beauty of Freya's eyes. They simply shine with life.

Needless to say, she's very tired right now. She's curled up upon her sapphire velvet cushion, and I'm trying to type as quietly as I can, so as not to wake her.

I can't wait for tomorrow. There are so many things I want to show her, to do with her. I think I might just take the day off from work, so that we can explore the world a'new.

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6/23 9:30am

Freya took her first shower this morning (we're not counting the time her feather form was still in my hair . . .). I turned on the bathroom faucet and let her stand underneath. She had a lot of fun picking out body wash. I have several scents, so we searched until we found something she liked; turned out to be sandlewood. She also washed her hair with tiny little dabs of my shampoo and conditioner, and spent almost 15 minutes playing with her hair until it was just right.

*sigh* I knew it. She's going to be so incredibly vain. I just hope she never wants to try my make-up . . .

I cut a scrap of terry cloth from an old towel for her to dry off, but plan to hem a few pieces down to her size. Why shouldn't she have all of the proper amenities, after all?

I'm also very glad that she's showing no interest in clothing. I'm not entirely sure that I really have the time to sew a complete set of clothing for her. I'm sure that, one winter rolls around, she'll need another layer or two, but I can knit something up in a jiff.

Freya still seems uninclined to speak, or make any sort of noise. She is, however, just barely heavy enough to type on the keyboard by jumping on the keys, so I'm teaching her to read, and hopefully to type messages out. I also provided her with some tiny pieces of graphite, from a sketch set, and paper. She created some lovely little scribbles while I was taking my own shower. If I can find the time, I'll put them into our little photo album.

Last night, I started reading to her from my old book of Norse mythology. I thought she ought to know the origins of her name. Oddly enough, she scrunched her face up after the first story about Freya. I wonder if she'll want to change her name . . . ? But that will have to wait until she can communicate enough to tell me what she actually wants to be called.

I think we'll head over to the shop now. Since I wasn't able to make it in yesterday, I'm very eager to run in and see if any of the other Fenthries have transformed.

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6/23 10:30pm

I'm really too tired to write much tonight. I just returned from a long day of work, followed up immediately by 4 hours of dance class. I taught the first two hours, and followed for the second two . . . and the last two hours were in Samba and International Tango . . . two of my worst dances. I'm exhausted.

I brought Freya along with me to class. Needless to say, she got a LOT of attention. She certainly seemed to enjoy herself! I must say, it's gratifying to have adopted a Fenthry with a real appreciation for my styles of music. Because I was doing a lot of moving -quick spins, sharp pivots and the like- I didn't allow Freya to ride along for the classes. Instead, I placed her on a table over in the corner of the room. She hopped, jumped, and twirled on her own for the entire four hours! Actually, I think she was starting to get the hang of the beginner waltz and rhumba that I taught . . . which certainly boosts my ego as an instructor!

She's flopped out on her pillow right now, deeply asleep. She actually nodded off on the way home, not that I'm very surprised. Such a big day for such a little girl.

*sigh* There's really only one thing that makes me unhappy right now. Well, I suppose "worried" is a better word. Freya hasn't tried to speak at all yet. In fact, she barely makes any noise at all! She's so active, and I cen tell that she's very intelligent . . . but this lack of sound concerns me.. I think that I'll ask Louhi about Fenthry development tomorrow . . . but this sort of silence certainly wouldn't be considered natural in a human child.

Freya is, however, coming along very well with her typing. I can't believe how quickly she's learning to read, and spell . . . and she loves hopping around on the keyboard, creating words and phrases.

Okay, I think that's enough now. I'm tired, and want to sleep. And tomorrow's another big day . . .
Gaia Forums » MISC Forums » Forum & Sticky Archive » Breedable/Changing Pets Roleplay

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