All of Toasties OCs

My October was packed with stuff, but I just couldn’t resist to write a bit OC-tober stuff, according to @oc-growth-and-development‘s OC-tober prompts. This one is a two in one, Youth and Mentor, for my half-gnoll character Cuy:

(CW: Colonialism in Steam-Fantasy-Setting)

Excerpts from the diary of Prof. Joren Dhiran Rhaeas:

… I discovered the most curious child in the Village of Arasol. They are about 4 years old but I could not make of their sex yet. The villager call them “Kui” and told me they are the offspring of a human man and a female gnoll, these hyena-like, savage half-beast of this land. This child however, is raised among humans, albeit primitive ones, which makes me believe, it could be civilized. As long as I stay in this village, I will observe them. It may be a big opportunity to find out more about this rare form of a mix-specied being...

~~~

… as for the child: I found out he is male, when I saw him play with the other children at the nearby river. However I also noticed that the villagers are hostile towards this child, but not too fond of him either. His mother brought him to Arasol about a year ago, but his father is not living here. Nobody seems to know, why the gnoll chose this village for her child or why they gave it away in the first way. The child looks mostly human, but his ears and his mouthpart resemble these of a gnoll. His hair has the grey-brown spots like the fur of his savage ancestors. If only I had the possibility to examine him closer…

~~~

… I think I am connecting to the boy. Like I thought, he is more a human being than a savage monster.  He speaks, like any child of his age and does not seem less intelligent than his peers. His understanding of simple mechanical operations and logical puzzles even seem to be slightly above the average. I gave him my old compass and could observe his obvious joy in this simple thing. The goddess knew me well, to guide my feet into this village. I am sure, the boy is a perfect example for showing that upbringing is much more influential than biology, a fact I am aware of, as a half-breed myself, even though it still lacks scientific proofs.

~~~

The brightly colored wings of the hand-sized butterfly slowly opened and closed, shimmering in the sunrays peeking through the canopy. With slightly opened mouth the young half-gnoll observed its fragile beauty, his little fangs barely visible and his glove covered hands resting on the mossy wood of the fallen tree. The humming of unknown insects filled the humid air and the butterfly’s wings flapped again. Yellow, violet, red, blue.

“CUYVENDA! Where are you?” The voice of professor Rhaeas cut through the jungle’s natural sounds and the butterfly flew away.

Cuy’s ears twitched and he jumped on his feet. With one single movement his arms went into the straps of his Backpack and he hurried back to the other members of the expedition, his fast steps made little squishing sounds when they hit the moss. Ducking under on branch, jumping over a root, zigzagging around spikey twigs and slippy rocks. Then he saw Prof. Joren Dhiran Rhaeas, the Bhatwirian half-elf, who was his mentor and the closest what he had to a foster father. Prof. Rhaeas was looking around with a frown. The whole team seemed like they were ready to continue the expedition through the jungle. As he discovered Cuy, with his heavy travel backpack, muddy spots on his clothes and a breathless albeit broad smile on his face, his frown changed. Relief mingled with impatience and a hint of reproach.

“Ah, there you are. Come on, we have to go. Stay on the path and don’t stray away again.”    

“I saw a butterfly.” Cuy exclaimed and stroke his humid bangs to the side, leaving a trace of greenish-brownish dirt on his forehead. Prof. Rhaeas frowned again.

“Cuyvenda. Your face,” he said, taking a cloth tissue from his pocket.

“Oh,” Cuy twitched and reached for the cloth, but the professor withdrew it.

“Gloves,” He said, with a slightly disapproving tone and raised an eyebrow, like a teacher who didn’t believe that their student keep making the same mistake but is not willing to give up on them. Yet.

“Of course, Professor.” The half-gnoll straightened his back, removed his gloves and took the cloth to clean his face. The professor nod in approval and turned to the expedition. “He is here, we can move on.”

Slowly the team started moving and as they start walking, Prof. Rhaeas turned to Cuy with a fatherly smile and sincere interest. “So, you saw a butterfly? Tell me more about it…”

-------------

“How many good ideas start with ‘I’m pret-ty sure we can make some ourselves’?” Owl wondered, while he looked through his scrolls, looking for the recipe for pumpkin tarts his mom gave him last year. Which he was sure to have somewhere…

His little sister Judy was lying on her back on Owl’s bed, wearing the hat of Owl’s school uniform and holding up Murphy with both hand and singing an improved song about what she called “witchy treats”. After his sister was moping because Owl had to admit, that there aren’t any of those treats left – mostly because of Judy – he offered to find the recipe for pumpkin tarts, because he was “pret-ty sure we can make some ourselves”.

Judy stopped and rolled on her tummy, losing the hat. She now was with Murphy, who seemingly didn’t like this new position and struggled to get away. “Can’t you witch some cakes?” she asked her sister with a little mope in her voice.

“You know, Juds, baking is a magic on its own,” Owl said with a dead serious look on his face. Judy rolled her eyes, hard, and Owl giggled. “No, it’s like I already told before, I’m not allowed to do magic at home. Be careful with Murphy.”

Judy puts Murphy on the bedside table. “That’s sooo unfair. What’s the use on being a witch when you don’t do witchy stuff?”

“Well… I’m just a student, y’know? There is much to learn and not all of it is fun.” Owl thought about the last year’s Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons when they encountered Erklings. “Maybe we can mix the ingredients in the cauldron. Is that witchy enough?”

“Yaaay!” Judy jumped of the bed and ran to the cauldron in Owl’s shelf. “Be careful, Juds, that thing is heavy,” Owl said and added with a lower voice: “Also I didn’t find the recipe yet.” And exactly this was the moment he found the recipe.

_____

Thanks so much for this awesome prompt!

It's Yule Ball Time! I think that's the most fitting christmas gown for a Hogwarts student. It may not be very christmas-y however, so I hope you are not disappointed in the outcome. I'm surprised how feminine he looks in his dress (I looked at 80's prom dresses for a while ^^").

I chose a mixture of dress and festive robe. Probably Owl is a bit older in this picture... More like... 16/17... I think. Or he looks older because of the fancy hair.

Bonus: Murphy has a little Santa hat. Because cute?

Let me introduce: Owl Sanderson, enby witch, he/him.

He is my Hogwarts RPG character, Slytherin (because of dice) and (hopefully) animaga to be.

The toad's name is Murphy.

OCtober Day 27: Cold

Milele having a warm drink on a cold winter day.

Leiden, 18xx.

"Your child, Mr. van der Linden, is the most rude, the most impertinent and undisciplined student I ever had! It is impossible to teach him anything if he keeps up this insubordinate attitude!"

It was already the second tutor that left the house Van der Linden, exasperated of the youngest child. Mr. van der Linden paid good money to get the child a good education. After a moment of desperation, the anger won over.

"JOHANN!!" The name sounded through the halls of the Van der Linden residence. Johann, a thirteen year old child with blond hair and glasses on his nose, stepped out of a door. His shoulders risen and the look on his face showed that he knew, he was in trouble.

"Fath—..."

Johann couldn't even finish the word as the slap hit his cheek.

"What do you think you do? Do you know how much money I already spent?"

"But, father... He made a mistake..." Johann mumbled.

"What?" This child was a curse, sure, but his intelligence was remarkable. And perhaps it was the only reason his father accepted it when his youngest child had declared that he was a boy, not a girl. This intelligence was in no way like feminine empathy or emotion, but as rational as every brave man. Mr. van der Linden sighed. Okay, one more tutor... Probably he wouldn't find a dutch one and had to look for a foreign tutor... Well, Johanns English and French were almost flawless, better as his own, he had to admit... His... well... son might be different, but with the right education he had great chances in the future.

OCtober Day 22: Music

Ichigo feat. Daft Punk (Technologic) - It’s simple but it fits her I think