Trixie (trapped in Metatokyo AGAIN)

Hey, this account still exists. Neato!

2010-11-08T23:22:11Z

So I keep getting emails meant for someone who doesn't know how to write out their own email address. I'm guessing that there's a dot in Trixie's address, but apparently not in this mystery person's (her name is Brenda); and her Facebook signup and her emailed application to Domino's got bounced to my inbox. Honestly, if you can't remember how to parse your own email address, I don't want you delivering my pizzas. Also, Domino's and Facebook: a duet of horrors if ever there was one.

Getting this sorted out meant that I spent an afternoon going through old Nexus emails, trying to recall exactly what I said and to whom and why; and coming to the conclusion that Trixie, as she was then, was kind of shrill and annoying, with the constant pop culture references and the hipster-doofus nerdspeak, etc; and if that made her insufferable to anybody, I apologize in retrospect (which is something I do often). A lot of the stuff she said and did really makes me cringe now.

For those of you who are interested, she's still around--we've never quite gotten around to finishing Metatokyo yet, but Trixie is currently taking on a second-banana role in the YA novel I'm trying to write. I made her a dude in order to make him a better fit as the main character's best friend, much to his chagrin. But for the most part, he's the same Trixie, just different plumbing and hairstyle. Same name, too, and pretty amazingly gay. I'm hoping to piss off some parents in the Bible belt. It's a goal.

I'm thinking about coming back, but I'm not really sure. So, what's happened since we've been gone? Anybody still reading this? Anybody care?

lolfopz

2007-05-18T13:23:36Z

IM AT UR BARBECUEZ

STEELIN UR KEBABZ

TRAMAPODINE! TRAMBOMPLODINE! TRALFAMADOR (whoops, too soon)

2007-04-13T15:20:53Z



"zomg bouncy fopses" on Google Video

I was BORED. And I thought "DUDE! TRAMAMPOLINE! BOINGY BOINGY BOINGY XD" and the rest is history.

for the touch of the other kind....YEEE FUCKIN' HAWWW

2007-04-06T18:37:55Z

I had a dream.

I had an awesome dream. ~~There were people in the park, playing games in the d~~STFU LIONEL RICHIE I H8 U DX

Anyway. It was me, Hips, Jun and Eiko, and we were all bounty hunters in the Wild West; only it was more like a steampunk, cowboys an' robots kinda thing. We all had these kickass steam-powered cyborg horses and our own signature old-timey/high-tech weapons and fucking AMAZING outfits. And the theme song to the whole thing was Polysics' cover of "MY SHARONA."

We should totally do that sometime. And by "do that" I mean "travel back in time and become steampunk bounty huntressessesses." Why the fuck not? You got anything better to do?

look back in anger

2007-02-16T02:28:33Z

GODDAMNIT!

Why did I wait this long to get a copy of "The Lodger?" It's GOOD. Almost as good as "Heroes." Which I am finally also getting on CD.

FORGIVE ME O THIN WHITE DUKE, I DIDST NOT KNOW HOW MUCH ASS-ROCKING THEE HAD DONEST ON THIS ALBUM. ETH.

Oh, and I'd be a total bitch if I didn't mention this: Congratulations to Eiko and Isis! You two crazy chicks deserve a very happy life together, and I have no reason to believe you'll give each other anything but. MAZEL TOV!

heart full of napalm

2007-01-19T14:00:22Z

((Yeah, I did eventually get Guitar Hero II. And it occurred to me last night that if Trixie were a boy, Iggy Pop's "Search And Destroy" would be his theme song. I probably would have figured this out sooner had I ever heard the song before--I know, I know. My music edumacation has pretty humongous holes in it. I'd make a terrible Phonomancer.

Not that I'm willingly inviting LOL onto my muse's magenta-tinted head. As a matter of fact, the recent waves of LOL have pretty much turned me off to the Nexus more or less. I'm not commenting or asking questions much these days because I don't have the patience or will go to through anything more convoluted than dropping a snark payload and disappearing into the night--a steath bitch-bomber, zooming too fast for radar. Hell, I'm letting an in-LJ RP on one of my other characters sit and rot because I can't bring myself to continue it yet; even after I promised the other player I wouldn't do that. I don't know why! It's like an overdue library book--I don't want to bring it back and suffer the librarian's wrath, and yet every day I keep it out will incur an increasing amount of said wrath. It's the stupidest Catch-22 ever.

So, for the moment, I'm declaring all my characters LOL- and wangst-free because I don't have the energy to go along with the rest of the Nexus--recent tragedies concerning close friends aside; of course. I guess this doesn't change much, Trixie's always out of the loop when something happens and can only chime in to react after the fact.. My excuse is that she's busy in Metatokyo. Closer to the truth would be "I don't read my character's friendslist very often, and most of what goes on appears to happen either in IRC or in comms that I don't read anyway."

In conclusion: I suck, and all indications are clear that I will continue sucking for the estimable future. GO BANANA!))

HE WHO CONTROLS THE CHORDS AND/OR MODEL GLUE, CONTROLS THE UNIVERSE

2007-01-02T06:11:59Z

Gentlemen, the writer for the infamous kitpooka known only as "Trixie" has discovered Guitar Hero. This could potentially be very bad for productivity and may spell the end of whatever it is Trixie does. We think she's either some sort of spy for a nation that doesn't exist and never has, an escaped mental patient, or a really shitty mime that can turn into a [fingerquotes] cute and cuddly woodland creature.

Our expert on lost productivity, Doctor David Hasselhoff:

WELL AS YOU CAN SEE IN THIS VIDEO FOOTAGE, GUITAR HERO HAS MORE OR LESS TAKEN OVER THE WRITER'S LIFE, AND HAS ENGAGED THE MUSE COMPLETELY COMPLETELY. WITNESS THIS RARE EXCHANGE BETWEEN TWO COGNIZANT BEINGS COEXISTING WITHIN THE SAME CONSCIOUSNESS:

[writer] my arms are le tired

[Trixie] MOAR! Must! Get! perfect rating on "Spanish Castle Magic!" FINGERS FUSING INTO LOBSTER-BOY-LIKE FLIPPERS! RAAAAAAAHHHHRRR I AM A GOLDEN GOD

If Guitar Hero continues to take up such a prominent position in the life of the writer, we can expect further drop-offs in productivity to occur until the writer and the muse engage in psychological fusion, the likes of which would cause their personalities to meld into a single entity; thus creating a person whose only goal in life is to continue playing the game incessantly, ignoring all biological needs until their body gives out completely.

Tell me why we care, again. I don't see this as a bad thing.

It might not be. But God help us all if they ever locate a copy of Guitar Hero II.

XMAS XMAS XMAS OI! XMAS XMAS XMAS OI! XMAS XMAS XMAS OI!

2006-12-24T07:16:28Z

May you all get coal in your stocking, because gas is fuckin' expensive!

I warned ya. NOW YOU ARE GAY FOR FURRY ROBOT SANTA JESUS! HAW HAW!</div>
Oh, and if you wanna hear my favorite xmas story, clicken zie here.

attention Indigo and Eiko

2006-10-28T04:39:24Z

Just tossing this out there as an idea, seein' what you think:

I'm not saying the Ghostbusters NEED a transforming, ectoplasm-sucking robot, but you can't tell me that they probably don't want one. I know Ray definately does.

HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS OMG OMG OMG

2006-10-24T05:21:36Z

CHECK OUT THE AWESOME PICTURE OF MEEEEEEEE

Also, screw the fourth wall!

NOW WE DO THE MYPOSIAN NO PANTS DANCE OF JOY

YARR, BITCHEZZZ

2006-09-19T20:48:37Z

Note to self: I so totally fucking rule.

that was the way, was the way that I found you

2006-09-08T03:49:47Z

I am slathered in memes!

Let it be known that I hate the terms "pup" and "mun." They just grate. On to the list.

1. Close your eyes and picture a shelf in your character's library. List the titles of the books on that shelf.

While I certainly wouldn't call Trixie "stupid," I don't see her as being particularly well-read. And she hasn't really had a permanent "home" since she was about five years old. Also, if she DID have an apartment or something, I doubt she'd ever have a library when she could just as easily have, say, a ping-pong table or one of those paintings of a sad Mexican kid on black velvet. You know, to totally class up the joint. But if she DID have a bookshelf, it would probably be filled with books of poetry, biker magazines, some spy novels, "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," and Stephen King. Multiple copies of James Joyce's "Ulysses," too.

2. How does your character prefer to celebrate her victories and successes?

Going out, getting wasted, having a night on the town, preferably in the presence of others. A rollicking pub fight can occasionally mark the end of a particularly enjoyable evening.

3. What is your character's view on privacy--hers and others'?

She can be pretty open when she wants to be--she doesn't mind giving others TMI. And she has the habit of wandering in where and when she's not wanted. But other peoples' business is their business, generally.

4. What double standards does your character hold? How does she expect to be treated differently from the ways in which she treats others? Does she acknowledge this double standard or deny it?

I don't think she uses too many double-standards, except that when she acts like a destructive jerk, she feels that it's somehow justified. When others do it, they're just showing off. Or copying her.

5. What sort of legacy does your character wish to leave behind?

She's never really given it much thought. Trixie is not a real future-oriented person.

6. What would your character like to see written on her tombstone?

"NECROPHILIACS DIG HERE." Well, okay, no. How about "WHO WANTS TO LIVE FOREVER?"

7. Write an obituary for your character.

[SPOILER]

Jane Doe, found in Bachelor's Grove cemetary near Chicago. Age impossible to determine. Cause of death alcohol poisoning.

[END SPOILER]

8. Imagine that a local newspaper or alumni newsletter has chosen to spotlight your character this month. Write that article, or the interview held by the reporter.

I can't imagine it'd be anything but half-assed gonzo journalism about some crazy magenta-haired chick rambling drunkenly about ninjas and frying pans. No good can come from such a venture.

9. What is the most shameful thing that ever happened to your character?

Acted on the orders of a powerful mage and killed several of her own kind.

10. What is the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to your character?

Sleeping with (and by "with" I mean "alongside, while naked, but with nothing sexual happening between the two") Keomi and getting caught by Nichiren the next morning.

11. Does your character hold any extremist political viewpoints?

Not really. She isn't very political. I don't think she's ever bothered to register to vote. She would probably endorse anarchy if she ever really thought about it.

12. If your character had to pick one popular saying to embody her philosophy toward life, what would it be?

"Love is careless in its choosing."

13. In terms of romantic relationships, what is your character's "type"? What does she think her type is? Are these two things the same or different?

I don't think Trixie has a "type," outside of "breathing and available." She just sort of latches on to people based on a crazy whim or random need of the heart. She's had some unfortunate crushes.

14. When was the last time your character took a vacation?

There was that one time in Spira. But I define a "vacation" as a break taken from a job, and outside of "working" for Isawa-Shoten, that doesn't really apply. I mean, Trixie...work...the two concepts are in entirely separate spheres of existence.

15. What person has most influenced your character's development as an adult?

Brian, her mentor.

16. Did your character have any heroes as a child?

Name a famous cartoon character. She liked them all.

17. Open up the cabinets in your character's bathroom and describe what you find there.

A half-full bottle of scotch (for gargling), band-aids and hydrogen peroxide, and a dildo. I guess. Again, she doesn't necessarily HAVE a bathroom, much less a bathroom cabinet.

18. What is the best vacation your character has ever taken?

Basically, her entire life from the time she left the orphanage up until now.

19. What is the most memorable romantic encounter your character has ever had?

Coming into Guy and Maran's life and being accepted as their third. That night was scored by Bowie's "Station To Station."

20. What is the biggest lie your character has ever told?

I'd like to answer that with a Simpsons quote: "That's like asking what's the square root of a million. No one will ever know." --Nelson Muntz

21. What is the most cruel and hurtful thing your character has ever done?

Seduced a girl because she was obsessed and crushing, and tried to keep her with her, which prevented the girl from returning to the world she was meant to live in. Trixie's intentions were pure but she knew in her heart from the beginning that it was the wrong thing to do.

22. Has your character ever broken any laws? Did she get caught?

Oh, many. And no, not yet.

23. Who was your character's best friend during childhood?

Brian. He was her everything.

24. If your character were to paint the inside of her house, what color scheme would she use?

I think she'd go nuts at the paint store, buy every color that she liked, go home and Jackson Pollack a couple of rooms, get pissed off that blending the pretty colors together doesn't necessarily result in prettier colors being created, get bored and forget the whole project halfway.

25. Who was your character's best friend during her teenage years?

Brian, and then Guy and Maran.

26. Describe your character's dream home.

A place she could come and go as she pleases, leave for six months and come back to find things unchanged. Privacy and comfort and a mini-fridge and a sleeping bag. Like a treehouse, but the kind of treehouse you could have sex in if you wanted to.

27. Who was your character's best friend during adolescence?

Boris and Brian's evil doppleganger don't count, and neither does the guy she dated.

28. Describe your character's childhood home.

The orphanage was the kind of place that well-meaning people build to keep kids in without making them think they're in lockdown--cute pictures on the walls, bright colors, toys and games. But it was still an orphanage, and even the nicest orphanage would have been a prison for a kid like Trixie. This was not the nicest orphanage, not by a longshot. The place stunk of lysol, piss and Kool-Aid. The food was bad, the care was lousy, and the older kids were the kind of mindlessly cruel that only kids can be. She often has nightmares of being forced to return.

29. What is the most cruel and hurtful thing your character has ever said?

"You know, Superman...the last time you really inspired anyone...was when you were dead." No, wait, sorry, that was Batman. It's an awesome quote, though.

30. How good is your character at manipulating other people? To what end does she do it?

Ehn. Not that good. If she can't get somebody to see things her way, she'll go it alone, or threaten violence. Or try to confuse them with wackiness. She can seduce others but she prefers to be the seducee.

Mememememe. Memememe. Mememe. Memememememememe.

2006-08-15T21:32:33Z

20 Questions (a meme)
What is your character's name?
Trixie. She has never had a last name and hasn't needed one yet.

How old is he/she?
Late 30's/early 40's. She still looks 17, though. Acts like it too.

What is your character's race/species?
Changeling. Fox-pooka. Ah-murricun.

Do they have a crush?
Oh my, yes.

Do they have many friends?
Enough to fill the Albert Hall, if the Albert Hall is sufficiently small. (answer: "enough")

What planet is your character from?
I think we've determined that it's the White Wolf WOD universe, PLANNIT URF. I like saying it that way. URF URF URF! It's a world of walruses! Or people fucking. Either way.

Does your character like to eat?
Hells yes.

What's his/her favorite food?
Chinese, sushi, burgers and bar food.

What's his/her favorite drink?
Vodka, beer, sake, Yukon Jack.

Is your character annoying?
It depends on who you a--YES.

Name the 5 most annoying things about your character.
1. She's kinda dense.
2. She overemotes and underthinks.
3. She has a talent for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time (read as "being witty").
4. Mood swings. The Flying Graysons didn't swing as much as she does.
5. Inability to deal with the shit that happens in her life without being self-destructive.

Is your character loved? (as in does anyone have a crush on them?)
Probably not crushed upon. Liked, definately. And there's love in her future, if I have anything to say about it.

Is your character hated?
I can think of one person who hates her pretty bad, yeah. And a couple of people she left behind who feel the same way.

Is she/he emo/goth?
Not really, but she does like black leather and the Sisters of Mercy.

Is she/he straight, bisexual, or gay?
Bi.

Is she/he a virgin?
HA HA HA HA HA HA no.

Name 3 hobbies
1. Riding her motorcycle.
2. Getting in fights.
3. Flirting.

Is your character normal?
By her vary nature, no.

Is your character attractive?
I don't think she'd win the Miss America pageant--she's too short and a little more curvy than your average supermodel. If you're asking me if she's cute, though; then yes, definately. And like most Changelings, her look would be considered "unusually appealing." I think about half of her percieved attractiveness comes out of her personality.

How does your character handle emotions?
Not well. They are the turbulent ocean, she is first mate on the Minnow. In this imaginary arrangement the role of the Skipper is played by Alcohol.

Does your character have other forms?
Yup! A cute-and-fuzzy woodland creature, a reddish-brown fox to be exact; a form into which she can shift at will. She's been known to spend extended periods as a fox if the mood strikes her, or if there's not much room for her to sleep in, she'll just get fuzzy and curl up in her tail. d'awwwww.

Does your character overreact?
Does the Pope shit in the woods?

Is your character a criminal?
Laws are transient, fleeting things. Do the laws of Rome still hold? No! Is the Code of Hammurabi still followed? Of course not! And that's why Trixie feels personally justified in stealing Twinkies, public drunkenness, public nudity, and shooting zombies in the face with illegal weaponry.

Does your character go to school?
Never been. Which explains a lot.

What's his/her IQ?
Um...she can make shadow puppets?

Does your character have a disease/curse?
Not really. You could consider her past relationships cursed, while I tend to view it as an unlucky streak.

Is your character dead?
Not yet. She's come close a couple times.

Does your character have a family?
Trixie was an orphan, and all her life she's built a family around her out of friends and lovers. And like family members sometimes do, not all of them stayed in her life for long enough. But she sees each of her friends as a brother or sister, and loves them all accordingly.

Has he/she encountered any tragic times in life?
Orphaned as an infant, her father/mentor/lover was killed in front of her, her best friends taken from her, a lover spurned her...she lost a brother figure...her life is full of large and small sadnesses, and she keeps them within her, buoyed by her natural enjoyment of life and snarkily exuberant attitude.

What's the best time in your character's life?
BOOZE O' CLOCK

Is your character single?
Perhaps permanently.

Has he/she developed any relationships?
Plenty.

Does he/she have an element?
No, they're too hard to take care of...all those peanuts must cost a fortune. And then there's the sweeping up...huh? OH. Um...you know that hard, glitter-infused plastic that they used to make carnival rides out of, like little cars and airplanes and stuff? That's it.

Do you roleplay your character?
I've never LARPed as her, if that's what you mean. And that would be LARFable. But if you mean "played as her while in character," then yes, lots.

Do you write about your character?
Uh...yeah. (some of it is porn...shhhhhh)

Does your character have a bad temper at times?
When her eyes turn a glassy ice-blue, it's time to pray.

Does your character get depressed?
Yup.

What's your character's favorite animal?
ACH DU LIEBER! RACCOONS! (read: fuck, I dunno, LOL)

Does your character have any fears?
Plenty.

Does your character have any weaknesses?
Good lookin' boys and girls who have *just* the right amount of sweetness and spunk to them...liquor, cigarettes, the rock and roll music, that first vomit-inducing, vertiginous rush of falling in love.

Does your character look up to anyone?
Keomi (once upon a time), Jun, Eiko, Joey Ramone, David Bowie, Andrew Eldritch, Brian Molko.

Does your character like music?
WHAT I CAN'T HEAR YOU SHE'S GOT HER RADIO TOO LOUD

What's your character's favorite type of music?
Rockabilly, punk, surf-punk, j-punk, thrash metal, 80's gothrock, synth-pop and and movie soundtracks.

Is he/she impatient?
She got tired of waiting around for me to fill this thing out and now she's off playing video games.

What's something funny about your character?
Lots of things, I hope. She really does enjoy making people laugh. And so do I.

Does your character curse?
Why, Shitting Jesus, yes! Only all the twat-spackling time. FUCKKNOCKERS.

"Wait! I still function!" "WANNA BET?" clunk

2006-07-30T19:07:57Z

((Ah, Starscream, you glory-hogging Decepticunt. I love you.

Hey, new icon that doesn't actually represent Trixie. Taken without permission from this site.

Still Nexus active, but nothing happening in the MT front for quite a while. Will that change? No idea.))

Lesson #7 In Our Ten-Part Series On How Not To Be Seen

2006-02-24T03:13:55Z

I'm still here. Stuff is happening. Trying to keep up.

time for tea and meet the wife

2006-02-01T21:58:27Z

You people should stop giving me ideas. I mean, seriously.

Stupid phone company.

peaches and herb, baby. peaches and motherfucking HERB.

2006-01-25T06:25:33Z

Trixiwiki! And it feels so good!

((meanwhile, writer is doing non-nexus stuff for right now and can't be arsed to be arsed. bleah!))

Joy To The World, Bitches!

2005-12-22T05:13:39Z

"Chriiiiistmastime,
Mistletoe an' wine,
Eatin' sushi and listening to Patsy Cline,
With, uh, frogs on the fire and...dogs in the...tree...
Time to rejoice in the...owls...that we see!..."*

Trixie can't sing, but she's singing anyway, striding bundled-up and Santa-hatted through the snowy streets of Shibuya's shopping district. Couples walking hand-in-hand avoid the strange, magenta-haired gaijin as she tromps through the ankle-deep snow, improvising Chrismas carols in a language none of them can speak...

This is the first Christmas that Trixie can ever remember actually taking the time to shop for other people. When she was a child, Christmas with Brian usually involved drinking filched eggnog by a roaring fire, in a camp somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon line, listening to the tall, gangly Eshu tell Yule stories about frost giants and friendly djinn and monkey-lizards at the North Pole. At midnight, Trixie would get her present--a shiny new toy, always wrapped neatly in a bundle of Sunday funnies--and together, they'd make a trip to find a homeless child so that the toy she recieved the year previous could be passed on. Some of these trips took long into the next day, but they always found a kid in need of a present; even if it had been slightly used. She once asked Brian if he ever wanted a present, but he only laughed and held her tighter.

Her single Christmas with Guy and Maran was confusing--she remembered following Maran around, asking "why are you hanging stuff on the tree? What are those big socks for? Who are the three wise men, anyway, and what kind of present is myrrh for a freakin' baby?" By the time Christmas had arrived, she still hadn't quite grasped the holiday's core concepts, and was bewildered on Christmas morning when Guy and Maran exchanged gifts for each other and gave gifts to her...but she had nothing to give to either of them. She suddenly realized what a terrible faux pas she had made, and though both her lovers insisted that it was no big deal, Trixie insisted on whipping up a holiday feast to make up for her egregious error. She had locked herself in the kitchen and, calling upon all her cooking skills (which didn't stretch too far beyond microwaving popcorn), madly mixed ingredients together and attempted to pull off a culinary coup. Several hours later, the end result was, well...to say that it was a disaster would probably be an understatement. "Edible" would also be highly inaccurate. Once Guy and Maran stopped laughing--and once they had helped open windows to clear away the stench and to shower Trixie off, who was covered in grease drippings, flour, marinara sauce and cottage cheese; they decided it would be best to just go out for Chinese food. Later, happily nestled between Guy and Maran, her tummy full of Moo Goo Gai Pan, Trixie basked in the glow of Christmas lights reflected on the bedroom ceiling from the street below and smiled to herself. "Best Christmas ever," she had mused before falling into a warm, peaceful sleep.

Since then, Trixie had spent most of her Christmases alone, watching cartoons; or in a dive bar somewhere, drunkenly bellowing out half-remembered carols with a ragged crowd of drunks that had noplace else to be. Not this year, dammit! she thought; as she braved the crowds in a borrowed winter coat, fingering the Isawa-Shoten credchip she had wheedled away from Tetsuo, which rested snug in her waist pocket. This year, she had the time and the means, she had friends both here in Metatokyo and throughout the Nexus, and she was determined to get everybody at least a little something.

Multiple Timequakes had rendered Metatokyo's economy extremely patchy and unstable. The goods hawked by vendors were less glitzy than she had imagined they'd be, but certainly some of them would make passable presents. Trixie put on her haggling face and strode bravely into the Shibuya street market.

Some hours later, she returned to Isawa-Shoten Tower, bearing a bulging sack of gifts, a spool of red yarn, and a stack of newspaper under her arm. She said not a word but took the express elevator to the 73rd level, and, spreading out the loot on the floor of her "office" (the smoking lounge), she lit a cigarette, poured herself some Ketel One on the rocks, and began wrapping the gifts.

Keomi gets a soft, strawberry-scented bathtowel with a kitten on it. Goodness knows that girl loves to take showers.

Andy gets a twee little multitool, the kind you can fit into your wallet like a credit card, because Trixie figured someday he may have to McGyver a nuclear fusion reactor out of string, gum and ear boogers; and anything she could do to make the process easier for him...

Nichren gets a small stuffed bunny wearing a t-shirt that has this design on it. She giggled to herself, knowing that eventually someone would ask her to translate the English writing into Japanese.

Maji gets a heftier multitool, for reattaching things like nuts and bolts and wires and legs and arms...

Yuni gets a kid's magic set, with flash powder, an "interlocking rings" illusion, a plastic wand and a tiny top hat with a fake bunny in it. "This ought to provide minutes of entertainment," she thought.

Hazuki gets a carton of Ozekis, his favorite brand of cigarettes. "The gift that keeps on giving...well, to me anyway, as I bum a few off him," said Trixie to herself.

Fu gets a video of an obscure Shaolin flick from the 70's, and a promise to hang out and watch it one night over popcorn and beer.

Endymion gets a package of Hello Kitty lip gloss, hair gel and nail polish. She snickers as she wraps it up. "I wonder if he'll use this stuff..."

Kenshouko gets a t-shirt with this design on it. Trixie has no idea if Ken's into the Zodiac at all, but let's face it, that kid needs more shirts.

A Cadbury chocolate bar for Nuuki, a packet of beef jerky for Barph, and a box of Scottish shortbread for Von.

For Tetsuo, a big coffee mug that says "BAD MOTHERF***ER" on it, filled with small sheets of skin-transfer fake tattoos.

Peach was the hardest to shop for, but Trixie eventually found a box of pearl-white irridescent guitar picks, and a thick, black, padded guitar strap to replace the worn one she had. She surreptitiously placed a single kiss on the middle of the strap, where Peach's shoulder would be once it was attached to the guitar and, looking around guiltily, hastily wrapped up the package and set it with the rest.

Trixie wiped her brow and poured another drink, wrapping up the presents for her Nexusite friends; each one with a little note tied to it with the red yarn...

Jun's gift was a tiny pair of white booties and three sucker-tipped plastic shuriken. The note read: Gotta start 'em young, right? Don't mind me, I'm just thinking ahead...

The package for Eiko and her girlfriends were bath-toys--a swimming scuba-diver, a squirting frog and a squeaky duck. Have some good clean fun this year! No splashing! I mean it! Don't make me come down there...

Hippolyta's gift was a pair of warm behind-the-head earmuffs. I hear it gets cold up in them thar mountains, and these'll help keep the breeze--and Spider's screaming--outta yer ears. PS--let me know if you need to talk, hon; you got my comm code.

Key's gift was a t-shirt with a Zodiac design similar to Kenshouko's, only in green where his was blue. Wear it in good health. Or, you know, barf all over it if you have to. Either way.

And Jinpei's present was a cool-looking chef's hat with the kanji for "Master" inked on the front. Hey good-lookin', whatcha' got cookin'? Simmer down and bring me some FOOD sometime!

Satisfied, Trixie sighed and finished her drink. She tapped out the individual Nexus coordinates on her PinPoint and zapped each package to its intended reciever. She then reached into her bag and pulled out the final gift--a shiny robot toy that transformed into three different vehicles. She smiled at it and wrapped it in the last piece of newspaper and tied it down with yarn.

Heading back down to the street-level exit, Trixie ran into Nichiren, who was just now coming out of her sleep-cycle. "Good morning, sweet cheeks!" said Trixie. "You look like you've been dreaming about chasing rabbits all night."

The wolf-girl yawned and regarded Trixie sleepily. "Mmmph. 'morning. You are frighteningly chipper today."

"Is that a fact?" Trixie put her Santa hat on, tilted at a rakish angle.

"Yes. And you smell like newspapers." Nichiren wrinkled her nose. "You should get ready, we have a meeting in twenty minutes."

"Meeting schmeeting. It's Christmas! Tell the bossman I'm takin' the day off, Nichi-chan." She began to walk towards the exit.

"But Trixie, we don't get holidays off! We're Isawa-Shoten Couriers! We have to be ready for any emergency that may arise!"

Trixie smirked. "You need me? You can beep me. I'll come runnin'. For right now, though," she said, holding up the last package, "I gotta make a special delivery. It probably won't take me long, but you never know." She ignored Nichiren's shocked look, and continued on to the front doors of Isawa-Shoten tower.

Outside, a brilliantly bright day was blossoming in Metatokyo, the sun just now beginning to peek above the tops of the concrete caverns. Trixie took in a breath of frosty-cold air and blew it out, the smile on her face spreading wider as she could feel the distinct pressure of a hand on her shoulder and smell the familar material of a worn, tan trenchcoat.

"Merry Christmas, Brian," she said as she walked out into the streets of Metatokyo, looking for a child who needed a present.

*improv'ed lyrics adapted from John Allison's Scary Go Round

((directed at nobody in particular, just something I'd like to see done))

2005-12-19T22:41:16Z

((Don't you think it should be a common practice to list your character's fandom in your LJ userinfo? Even if your characters are OC's, it's nice to be able to find out who they are and where they came from. It helps me pick out individuals from a sea of fresh-faced model icons who all have perfect hair and apple-cheeks and flawless makeup, makes it easier to remember who they are and what their motivation/major malfunction is. Just a couple of hints, even if you don't come out and say it, is better than nothing.

I'm having difficulty with my next MT post because it features Yuni and Trixie testing Peach's guitar-playing abilities in a small room, and observing/taking readings on the magical effects Peach is unconsciously materializing through playing different songs. I'm sorely tempted to have her play something low and slow and have it give everyone in the room multiple orgasms, but...heh. I do think I've decided that having Peach play "Hot Rod Lincoln" will make time speed up, at least for everybody in the room. I can only imagine the kind of damage she could do if she played Jimi Hendrix's "Fire."))

Freakin' killjoy robot!

2005-12-08T03:47:42Z

Well, THIS got ugly. Think I pissed him off?

I still say his definition of "awesome" is deeply flawed.

shattered fixtures

2005-11-18T14:52:18Z

((I didn't do the "what my character thinks about you" meme originally because I felt I had covered that already in this post, but on a second viewing, the impressions I gave there are a little thin. It was late when I wrote it, sleep was catching up with me and I don't think I gave it as much attention as I could have.

Therefore, if you'd like a more in-depth idea of what Trixie thinks about your character, post and I shall deliver.))

I can't wait for you to SHUT ME UP

2005-11-16T06:58:50Z

Stellastarr's "Sweet Troubled Soul" makes me want to kidnap (gently! gently kidnap! gentle is the watchword here) some random, multiply-pierced cutie with more tattoos than sense, toss her bare hiney in the shower, scrub all the makeup off her face, then apply ancient Sumerian oral sex techniques upon her supine, quivering form for no less than four hours.

And then we would go shop for boots. Oh what boots we would shop for. Boots the likes of which I would gladly strap onto my feet white-hot a-la Doctor Doom so I would never have to remove them. ALL SHALL TREMBLE BEFORE THE KINKY FUTUREPOP FETISH BOOTS OF DOOM.

Mrrrfle. It's late, and that's all you get. QLT, a hipculture namedrop, and kinky boots.

Trixie's Bio: Part 2

2005-11-11T07:12:23Z

Continued from hereabouts.

Trixie had never had to take the lead before in lovemaking; she had seduced Brian once but there had been a shared attraction already between the two. Never before had she had to initiate contact with someone like this, guiding her new lover with a gentle firmness--it was an unnerving and exciting emotion for her. That night, as the seal-girl Alexa fell asleep, quivering in her arms; Trixie wondered if she had done the right thing. She felt as if she had taken advantage of the poor creature...but could not help being lost in the slick softness of her gray skin, the smell of the sea in her hair, the way she shivered like a newborn until Trixie put her arms around her and held her tight. She wondered if this was how Brian had felt, rescuing a young fae child from a cold, cruel orphanage late at night. She fell asleep and dreamt of drowning.

Trying to get Alexa to speak the next day was a frustrating experience, but with patience Trixie was able to get her relaxed enough to speak normally. The girl had spent most of her life in seal-form, and only dimly remembered having a human past. Getting her to smile and laugh was a goal that Trixie was unwilling to give up on, and by the end of the day the two were talking like old friends. That night, Trixie pleaded with Alexa to stay with her instead of going back to the sea. The Selkie-girl protested, but eventually gave into Trixie's requests. The next day, the two went clothes-shopping for Alexa, and Trixie tried to gently re-introduce to her the idea of living as a human. Alexa was fascinated by the city of Providence, and as she gazed with the eyes of a child at the wonders of the human world; Trixie fell more and more in love with her young friend. The two ran into Tom and a few of the other Angels; Trixie introduced Alexa as a visiting cousin from out of town. Tonight would be the Angels' performance in the park, naturally Trixie and Alexa were invited.

That night, Trixie and Alexa attended the performance of "As You Like It." Afterwards, Trixie lost Alexa in the crowd, and searched for her everywhere she could think of, growing desperate as the night grew darker. She returned to the park, in the area where the play had been held, only to find the Angels gathered in a circle of fire and dressed in ceremonial robes, chanting and ululating. At the center of the fire stood Big Addy, brandishing a huge knife--and Alexa, lashed to a crude stone altar.

Before Addy could plunge the knife into Alexa's heart, Trixie rode Graywing up into the circle of fire and cut Alexa down. At gunpoint, Addy explained that the sacrifice of a Selkie was a necessary part of a longevity ritual that would insure immortality for himself, the Angels, and anyone else who agreed to take part. Addy offered to allow Trixie to join the Angels and become immortal if she let them take Alexa. Trixie did not hesitate to break Big Addy's nose with the butt of her shotgun and ride off with Alexa on the back of her motorcycle, scattering the Angels with a few well-tossed grenades from her saddlebags.

That night, they hid in Trixie's apartment as Alexa recovered from her trauma. The next morning, they would leave together and find someplace to hide. Unfortunately, their plans were changed by Tom, who arrived at the apartment and cast a cantrip on both Trixie and Alexa, sending them into a deep sleep.

The next thing both of them knew, it was a few minutes to sundown on the following day. Trixie and Alexa were in a van in the middle of Providence. Tom explained to the two that, since the longevity ritual had not worked, Big Addy had decided to give Trixie and her lover the Gift Of Cold Water--a sadistic game of cat-and-mouse wherein they would be dropped off in the middle of the city at sunset, and would have until daybreak to get out alive. The Angels were scattered all over the city, with weaponry and traps at their disposal; and were ready to kill Trixie and Alexa on sight. Friends of the Angels--other Kith, local thugs, a couple of werewolves--were out in force as well. And if this weren't bad enough; the local Kindred Prince had owed Addy a favour and was only too happy to call out a Blood Hunt on Trixie's head; meaning that there would be a horde of vampires after them as well. Getting out would be no easy task.

The van dropped Trixie and Alexa out at the very center of town. Trixie told Tom that she thought they should see other people. The sun set, and the van drove away.

It was a night that Trixie would have paid any price to forget. So much killing...death surrounding her like a choking fog. She did what she had to do to protect herself and Alexa. And in the frenzied attempt to escape Providence, Trixie allowed her darker nature to take over her fully, which now manifested itself as an entirely new personality completely separate from her own--clinical, detatched, amoral and reflexively ultra-violent; her dark purple eyes shifting to a chilling ice-blue as the change took hold.

By the time Trixie came back to herself, the body count was in the hundreds. She and Alexa were finally safe--but Alexa had grown terrified of Trixie's other self, afraid that the fox-girl would be likely to fly into a rage at any time and harm her. Trixie tried to argue with the selkie, but it was no use--she had seen enough of Trixie's world to want to stay in it any longer. As soon as they reached Rhode Island together, Alexa insisted on leaving. She dove into the harbor, changing into her seal-form--it was the last time Trixie would ever see her. Heartbroken and confused, Trixie drove blindly away, trying to get as far west as possible.

She didn't get too far. On an empty stretch of road, a freak dimensional vortex swallowed her up [note: yeah, I hate when that happens to me too--h_m] and deposited her several universes away, in (or to be more precise, approximately 3000 feet above) Metatokyo, a futuristic metroplex of concrete, glass, neon and chrome; in which multidimensional "jumpers" had begun to randomly appear, sucked in from alternate universes and wreaking havoc on the time-space continuum. Fortunately, on the city streets below her, a dimensionally-displaced ronin named Hideo Kusanagi or "Unagi" for short; heard her terrified scream as she plummeted to the ground, and caught her in the nick of time. Unagi--originally a wandering, masterless samurai hailing from the Warring States period of Japanese history--instantly took a liking to the young lady whose life he saved, and, under the questionable assumption that she was a "kitsune" or magical fox spirit; soon declared himself Trixie's protector and bodyguard.

Soon, though no fault of her own (well, okay, it was a TEENSY bit her fault), Trixie found herself caught up in a whirlwind of action and intrigue, siding with the Courier Team of the mysterious Isawa-Shoten corporation as they battled the forces of the evil Miramoto Corp, lead by the villainous Yosuke Miramoto; a power-mad and psionically-enhanced industrialist bent on selling the leaders of the world a weapon with which they would most assuredly destroy each other, and the rest of the planet as well. [The details of this time are best told in story form--the entirety of the Metatokyo 2058 posts can be found here.]

It was during this time--barely a week, though it felt as if it took at least two years--Trixie gained a number of friends among the Isawa-Shoten Couriers, and grew close to many of them. The bond between she and Unagi, for instance, grew so intense that she had begun to think of the stalwart samurai as her adopted brother. Tragically, in the process of bringing doom to Yosuke Miramoto and setting Metatokyo to rights, Unagi was struck down while saving Trixie's life a second time. Unagi's death haunted Trixie, even after she was returned "home" to her own universe. Upon her physical recovery, Trixie had Unagi's image tattooed on her back in the manner of a yakuza back-piece--the old-fashioned way; with a single needle, ink, and 72 hours of pain without sleep.

Trixie spent much of the next few years in a haze, wandering the blue highways, drinking to forget. By and by, she began to feel that it was time to return to Chicago to face what was coming to her--either the Blood Hunt was still on, and she would die on her feet; or she would drink herself to death in remembrance of Guy and Maran and the love that they shared. But in a bus station in Nebraska, waiting for the noon bus to Harvard/McHenry, another portal opened before her, and her friends from Metatokyo appeared, urging her to return with them to help fight off another interdimensional crisis of Multiverse-destroying proportions. Deciding she probably wouldn't mind one last crazy adventure before she shuffled off the mortal coil, Trixie reluctantly agreed, and stepped into the portal; which whisked her--and the girl who had been sitting next to her at the bus station, a teenaged guitar prodigy named Peach--back to Metatokyo. [Following these events is the continuity of Metatokyo 2061: The Long Shadows of Destiny, which has been ongoing since...let me check...HOLY FREAKING CRAP, AUGUST 2002. Three and a half years and we're just now past the midway point. I think. Anyhoo, the story posts can be found here--bear with us as this story is still being shaped by three authors who have far less time and energy to write than they'd prefer. Incidentally, I feel that MT2061 is, so far, a far more coherent and enjoyable read than MT2058; but both stories are ripping yarns full of action, angst, explosions and fanservice--if you're into that sorta stuff.]

Now once again working for Isawa-Shoten, Trixie discovers the Nexus by poking around the I-S Corp. Tower labs and, depending on how much free time she has, either corresponds with Nexusites via her communications badge or physically travels to/through the Nexus by means of an artificially-generated stable wormhole that Isawa-Shoten keeps next to the 73rd story smoker's lounge.

Now let's see what Trixie thinks of her co-workers:

keomimontgomery: Heh. Sweet-and-sour kitty. On one hand, she can be a distrustful, conniving bitch. On the other hand, when she's nice, oh lord she's lovey-dovey. And great to snuggle with...not that Trixie's ever snuggled with her in an "officially snuggling" capacity, of course...

andy_montgomery: Needs a reality check and a swift kick in the butt every now and again. Generally a good guy but his new role as Ops Manager really bites Trixie's tail--she's not much overly fond of authority.

nichiren_hibiki: Yay, bipolar wolfgirl! Her mood swings aren't as bad as they used to be but she still packs an emotional wallop. Still, past that tough, bristling exterior, Trixie sees a kindred spirit and a person who she could reasonably call a sister in the same way that Unagi was her brother. Now if she weren't so damned homophobic...

masutmomajikimi: Majikimi is...distant, but then again she always has been. That thing over her eyeball bothers Trixie more and more every day. She likes Maji an awful lot but doesn't quite get her, and to be honest, she's a little bit scared of what Maji has become...

miko_yuni: Yuni is fun to tease, but not as fun as Nichiren. She seems like she'd be a lotta laughs, but she really needs to loosen up a little.

hazuki_ikari: This boy is trouble, and he knows it. Good for a laugh and a filched cig or three, but otherwise, Trixie is happy to keep him at arms' length. His smarm gets all over the place like grape juice on a white tablecloth.

fukagawa: Fu is too intense for her own good. It feels like she's always hiding something behind her back. If she'd let her hair down a little more she'd be fun to hang out with. Trixie REALLY needs someone to play video games with, and Fu could definately be that person...

endymion_grey: Yeah, everybody swoons over Endymion; and Trixie would be lying if she said she didn't think he was gorgeous. But there's something about him that she just quite can't put her finger on. He's enigmatic in more than one way, and something doesn't quite smell right about him...

strato_peach: *long, lingering sigh* No comment...

And about her Nexusite friends, Trixie has these thoughts:

shiratorijun: Jun's the bomb. That's all there is to it. Everything about her amazes Trixie, not the least of which is the fact that Jun is so kind to her. Derek is a lucky, lucky guy.

gadgetqueen: Eiko is just too much fun. She's as brilliant at flirting as she is at everything else, and in Trixie's world that's a very important skill. Also, having watched "Plastic Little" once back in her own world, Trixie is extremely fortunate that she isn't naturally a jealous person or she'd likely turn green with envy just thinking about Eiko's "arrangement" with captaintita...as it is she's had a couple of nosebleeds over the whole thing but now she just concentrates on thinking about baseball when the subject comes up. (Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day!...)

h_hollister: A tough-as-nails broad and as good a drinking buddy as she's ever likely to find. Wishes she could be around more to help smooth out the drama over at Mayfair; right now most of the drama in Trixie's life is happening in Metatokyo so she's not always aware of what's going on. But Hips is a solid chick and would be good to have in a fight.

key_to_me: Hyper-cute and fun as hell. Mistress of the unstoppable memes! Again, somebody she should really get to know better.

indigoskynet: She's sort of the Maven of the Nexus; everybody knows her at least a little. Trixie doesn't know much but about her but is happy to have her around, and is happy for her; particularly in regards to her relationship with Ray Stanz--Trixie always did have a thing for the Ghostbusters, and she's glad they've found each other.

gr8swallow: Shares his older sister's ability to take a conversation, wrap it into a neat little loop, then hook it to Trixie's waist and spin her right 'round, baby, right 'round like a record. He's a good kid, though, really; and Trixie doesn't mind the verbal sparring. It beats tiddlywinks all to hell.

wadewilson: A surprisingly good kisser. Despite being a diehard, true-blue DC girl, Trixie longs to get her own spot in Earth 616 continuity just so she and the 'Pool can team up and make things asplode. Like she doesn't do that in her normal job or anything.

teadee: She who breaks the fourth wall. Fun to be around, but should go easier on herself. She's a special person, and that's "special" in a good way.

(If I've forgotten somebody, my apologies; just let me know.)

Trixie's Bio: Part 1

2005-11-11T07:09:39Z

((Yo. Writer again. This meme is ganked from gadgetqueen and h_hollister, all credit to them.

The following is an attempt to sum up Trixie's life story--most of it was written quite a while back, and it's kinda clunky. It also displays a slavish reliance on a certain RPG system that, regardless of the character's origins, I'm trying to distance Trixie from gradually. It's long-winded and melodramatic and it only makes sense to me; so anybody fond of extremely overwrought character backgrounds filled with tragedy and sex and tragic sex might enjoy it--everybody else? No clue.

Also, apparently it's so long I have to post it in chunks. Part Two is here.))

NAME: Trixie (no last name given, it's possible she doesn't have one)
GENDER: Female
AGE (at the time of her appearance in Metatokyo): late 30's (appears approx. 17)
APPEARANCE: about 5'3 (5'4 in her combat boots), Trixie is reasonably curvaceous without being voluptuous. Her petite frame is surprisingly strong and limber. She has magenta-tinted hair, worn somewhat tousled and spiky. Her skin is slightly darker than Caucasian-white. She has large, purple eyes and facial features that indicate no single racial background. Fashion-wise, Trixie is not fond of flashy clothes or anything too "girly"--for her, clothing must (a) project her attitude and (b) be comfortable enough to wear for several days in a row (if needs be). She is fond of thrift-store gear, T-shirts, black jeans, leather jackets and combat boots. She has been known to sport funky leggings, shorts and midriff tank-tops with suspenders from time to time, and every now and then she does dress differently as her mood takes her; but these instances are pretty few and far between. (Also, as noted in a Metatokyo dream sequence, she does not wear underwear.) In her fox-form, Trixie is a smallish vixen with orange-red fur (it appears brownish-red in dark surroundings). She has large, inquisitive ears, a bushy tail, and she retains the mischevious purple eyes of her human form.

PERSONAL HISTORY: Trixie was born a burst of bright color in a dull, gray corner of the American Midwest. Abandoned by her parents at an orphanage, Trixie spent most of her early childhood being ostracized by the other children for being somehow "different." This "differentness" sprang not only from her magenta-tinted hair and purple eyes, but from her Changeling nature; and as a child of magic she could not help but to be different from everyone else. Shunning human contact, she found solace in the cartoons she watched on the orphanage's ancient black-and-white TV. She quickly made friends of Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Woody Woodpecker, the Pink Panther and the dozens of other cartoon stars that helped soothe her aching heart.

It was the night that the cartoons burst out of the TV screen to play with her--in full color, no less--that Trixie found out just how different she was.

Shortly after this magical phenomenon--a natural occurrence called a "chrysalis" by other Changelings, signifying the paranatural maturation of a Changeling child--Trixie was "rescued" from the orphanage by a Changeling man named Brian, a wandering Eshu and master con artist. For reasons he found that he could not explain to even himself, he had found himself outside the orphanage when Trixie's chrysalis had taken place, and upon witnessing it had decided--perhaps against better judgment--to "adopt" the young girl as his own. The two got along famously, and traveled the Midwest together on Brian's motorcycle. Brian used Trixie in his many cons--often she posed as his daughter or niece to dupe an unsuspecting mark--and together they lived the life of wandering tricksters, going from town to town and taking what they needed from the callow and corrupt (but always leaving behind a bit of charity for someone who needed it).

They spent years like this, roaming together, occasionally venturing as far north as Canada and as far south as New Orleans to pull off a new swindle. Mostly, though, they stayed in the Midwest. As they traveled, Brian taught Trixie about her Changeling nature. He gave her a wanderer's education; teaching her to speak multiple languages fluently, how to gain the confidence of others and manipulate a mark, as well as how to use her various magical talents. He exposed her to all kinds of music, and taught her to revere those who made it, for Brian had always considered music to be a kind of magic all its own. He taught Trixie to enjoy life, and to never fail to look at things though smiling eyes.

It came as little surprise to Brian that his young charge was a Pooka, or shape-changer Fae; her delight in pulling pranks on the people they conned together was certainly infectious. And the day she instinctively shifted to her fox-form to avoid being hit by a car, Brian began to feel a fatherly pride for the girl.

As Trixie matured into her teenage years, her relationship with Brian changed. She had never had much contact with others her age, and as she grew into an entirely new body and set of emotions, she found herself seeing her friend and partner in a different light. It was difficult for Brian to explain to her the nature of love, of separating the notion of fatherly love from courtly love or romantic love; Trixie had never had parents and had no basis to gauge how she felt in her heart. One night, however, she could no longer help how she felt. Trixie's heart won over the rest of her body--and the rest of her body won over Brian as well. Trixie took Brian as a lover that night, and as she settled into his arms and fell asleep she could not know how different things would be in the morning.

Before dawn, they would be roused from sleep by bandits--Nunnehi raiders, whose land Brian and Trixie had been passing through. Brian had, years before, obtained a writ of passage from the Nunnehi chief, allowing he and his young charge to travel through their territory unharmed. But the old chief was dead now, and his son--who had always despised Brian for his percieved arrogance--had caught them camping on hallowed ground. The raiders overpowered Brian and dragged him off into the night, literally crucifying him before slicing open his stomach and throat. Trixie barely slipped past the clutches of the bandits and was able to escape on Brian's motorcycle, Brimstone. But Brimstone was a chaemerical machine, and when Brian--its creator--stopped living, so did the motorcycle; spilling its rider onto an empty street in the middle of nowhere. Hurt, cold, frightened, and shaking with sorrow at the thought of losing Brian; Trixie ran into the darkness for as long as she could. Eventually--through a series of hitched rides and hiding on the backs of trucks, which to this day Trixie does not entirely remember--she arrived in Chicago.

For several months she lived on the Chicago streets, susbisting on handouts and scraps. For her, this was a fight for survival in a cruel place lined with cold iron and concrete. Trixie went hungry most of the time, refusing to sell her body for money--instead, she often lashed out at the men who approached her with less-than-benevolent intentions, leaving them bleeding on the street. It was in the back-alleys of Chicago that she honed the fighting skills that Brian had taught her, scrapping with much larger opponents and leaving them sprawled on the pavement; less their money and jewelry.

It was early Spring when Guy found her, perched on a mailbox with her chin resting on her knees, arms wrapped around her skinny calves, watching cartoons through a shop-window television. He took several pictures before Trixie jumped off the mailbox and threatened to remove certain body parts and place them where he might easily choke on them. Guy did something that Trixie hadn't done in months--he smiled--and handed her a Polaroid picture of her sitting on the mailbox, with his address on the back. He explained that he was a photographer, and that his girlfriend--a sculptor and painter--was looking for a model to do a series of paintings. Guy told her that if she was interested, she could come by their apartment and try out. He then gathered his photo equipment and walked away. Trixie was furious that he had invaded her privacy that way, and nearly ripped the Polaroid up--but thought better of it.

Two days later, she arrived at the address on the back of the Polaroid and met Guy's girlfriend, Maran. The two hit it off pleasantly, and after a quick sketch or two, Maran was convinced that Trixie would be perfect as her model. After Trixie's first day of work, Guy and Maran both insisted that she stay in the apartment rather than go back to the streets. Reluctantly, unwilling to wear out her welcome, Trixie slept on their couch. By day, she would pose and Maran would paint. By night, all three of them would watch cartoons and get drunk. Trixie told Guy and Maran that she was a faery wanderer and could change into a fox. They thought that her stories were wonderfully inventive, and never asked her to prove their veracity. Trixie really liked living with them, and although she still stung from missing Brian so badly, knowing that Guy and Maran would listen to her made her feel better.

At the end of a months' time, Maran was finished with her series of paintings, which sold to an upscale art gallery. There was a party at Guy and Maran's to celebrate the sale, after which, one thing quickly lead to another; and Trixie ended up not spending the night on the couch.

When she awoke the next morning sandwiched in between the warm bodies of her two hosts, Trixie had a panic attack--she was afraid that, now that Guy and Maran had had their way with her, they would leave her like her parents and Brian had. Maran calmed her fears and explained to the frightened girl that both she and Guy had discovered something wonderful--over the last month, both of them had fallen head-over-heels in love with Trixie. They had admitted it to each other shortly before the party, and realized that they didn't want to be without her. It was a mutual, respectful love; free of jealousy or resentment. Tearfully, joyfully, Trixie agreed to stay; realizing that she, too, loved both Guy and Maran equally.

For about a year, Trixie lived with the two artists, enjoying their company and reaching new heights of emotional bliss as an equal partner in a three-way relationship. Their shared love was a tender, exciting thing; and with Guy and Maran Trixie felt loved and secure; almost as much as she had been with Brian. She was able to put her past and her memories aside and live in the moment, experiencing the joy of new-found love every day. It would be years until she realized that what she and her lovers was experiencing was Rapture, a magically-induced state of euphoric mutual attraction that Changelings can bring about through a boon. Still, had she known, it would not have mattered; as the love she felt for Guy and Maran was pure and unfettered by magical effects.

Trixie's happiness ended about a year later. One night, she arrived home from her job as a checkout girl at a local grocery store to find Guy and Maran's apartment completely empty and abandoned. The only thing left in the apartment at all was a red rose, its petals crushed underneath the boot-heel of someone on their way out.

Sorrowful and destitute, Trixie returned to the streets to find her lost loves, but could find no trace of them anywhere. Succumbing to a bout of madness, she returned to the trash-strewn back alleys, more feral than human.

One day, as Trixie lie shivering in the gutter, a man came to her; a red-haired angel in a tan coat who walked with a limp--Brian. She was overjoyed to see him alive, and eagerly came with him to his dank ghetto apartment, where he fed her and cleaned her up. Brian had changed--he had been wounded when the Nunnehi attacked him, and as a result had grown somewhat twisted physically. His voice no longer flowed with a kind Irish lilt, his skin was grayer and lined with callouses, and his love was rough and course; while Trixie always remembered him as being gentle. Of course, none of that really mattered to her--Trixie was back with the man who she considered her father, and would happily overlook any inconsistency if it meant spending another moment in his arms. Brian convinced Trixie that the ones responsible for his injuries were the same people who had taken Guy and Maran away from her--a secret cabal of Changelings within the Chicago area, all of them members of elite Changeling social circles. He asked her to be his avenging angel, to assassinate them in revenge for what they had done.

Normally, Trixie would have refused. But the pain and lonliness had sparked madness within her mind, and her Unseleigh side--the darker side of all Changelings--was in control of her actions. Trixie willingly accepted her new role as Brian's pet assassin, going after the Changelings he named and carrying out their deaths with brutal precision. She began to enjoy her job, revelling in her skills as a swift, invisible bringer of death. It was her final job, however--taking out a craftsman Nocker at the edge of town--that stopped her from going off the deep end of madness. The craftsman was able to show her that Brian's chaemerical sword, Aingeal--the one he had given her with which to carry out her assassinations--was not the original Aingeal. Aingeal was a chaemerical weapon of legend, whereas hers was a cheap fake; not even magically charmed to disappear and reappear when its owner bade it do so. The craftsman showed her that he posessed the original Aingeal, which he had procured under mysterious circumstances not long after Trixie had arrived in the city. The craftsman's Aingeal reacted to Trixie's presence, glowing brightly as if it were posessed by emerald green flame. She found that when she picked up the sword, it followed her will and became diamond-sharp, cutting through a wooden table like a hot knife through butter--and that if she willed it to disappear and reappear, it would do so. The craftsman told her that only Aingeal's owner--or a Changeling tied to its owner by chaemerical bonds--could wield the sword in this manner. This meant that Brian--the one who had given her the fake Aingeal--was not who he claimed to be.

That night, through a cleverly-deduced series of questions, Trixie tested the memory of her father-figure. Though it was obvious that he had gone through great pains to reconstruct himself as Brian, having borrowed memories of he and Trixie's time together (obstensibly by reading Trixie's mind); he stammered and stuttered; seemingly unsure of what he could remember at all. Casually, Trixie lead him down a false path of inquiry. He took the bait, and she played along; knowing that what he was saying was being made up on the fly.

Later, Brian and Trixie made love. At the moment of climax, Trixie dispassionately drew the real Aingeal and sliced off her lover's head. As his head fell away from the body, Trixie watched Brian's skin color change, watched it wrinkle, watched his hair turn a different color. The spell was lifted, revealing the body of a much older man--a mage--who had forged an enchantment to become Brian's doppelganger; in order to dupe Trixie into doing his evil bidding. Trixie had been conned.

It had been a sad Beltane so far in the Chicago Seleigh Court, due to the rampant murders of many Changelings in the area. The revellers had been unusually somber, and very little music was playing. When Trixie entered the Court, carrying before her a gunny sack within which rested the head of her mentor's doppelganger, the court grew deadly silent. She confessed to the Elders her crimes, and presented the head to them; throwing herself upon their mercies. After deliberation, it was decided that hers would be a fate only slightly worse than death--she was to become a mortal human and live without Glamour for five years.

Thus robbed of her Changeling self and cast out of the Chicago Seleigh Court, Trixie set about attempting to enter human society and live as a normal person. She landed a job waiting tables at a small diner, and spent her nights in a tiny apartment, languishing in quiet misery; longing for even a small piece of joy. Solace arrived only in the form of Boris, a Sluagh emissary from the Court; who dropped by from time to time to check up on her and remind Trixie of her Changeling nature (if she was allowed to forget, she would not survive the return of her magical essence). She soon tired of the tattooed sewer-crawler, who would whisper to her through vent grates and shower drains; and drove herself into a deep depression.

Trixie went through an on-again, off-again relationship with a mortal man; but found the whole experience to be emotionally dull and unfullfilling. After having experienced the whole spectrum of Glamour-infused love, everything else felt lukewarm, at best. She continued to wait tables and bum cigarettes from strangers, silently waiting for a day about which she could no longer really remember what she was waiting for.

A month before her five years was up, Trixie had once more driven herself into depression. She had quit her job and holed up in her apartment, fearing the change, fearing herself, fearing everything. She did not want to be a Changeling again, and had reverted back to staring at a television screen, waiting patiently for the cartoon hour to come on. Her sanity hung by a thread.

Boris came to her that day with news--he had located Guy and Maran.

They had been abducted by the owner of the art gallery where Maran had sold her paintings--a Toreador vampire who was attempting to raise her status and populate her galleries with exclusive artwork by ghouling artists and forcing them to produce works for her. Trixie was roused from her depression and, upon seeing Guy and Maran for herself in the Toreador's townhouse; decided to take on one last assignment.

A bloodbath followed. Trixie had made her way into the Toreador's townhouse and stalked from room to room, slaughtering the beautiful undead with an assortment of weaponry--and upon killing the Toreador mistress and freeing the ghouled artists, she merrily torched the place.

Nearly escaping being gunned down by vampire enforcers, Trixie escaped into the underground with Guy and Maran; who had been freed from their blood bond. Guided by Boris, the three found shelter in the Chicago Court. By that time, a Ventrue emissary had already met with the Elders of the Court--apparently, the Prince of the city was pleased that the infamous Toreador mistress had been snuffed out; such a thing had been impossible for the Ventrue to do through protocol and procedure. Ergo, there would be no official Blood Hunt for Trixie--but the Prince could not guarantee the Changeling's safety in Chicago. She would have to hide in a protected suburb far from the city. Guy and Maran would be protected as well, and would be provided for with a new home.

Three days later, Trixie returned to Guy and Maran; once again a Changeling, in the body of the perennial seventeen-year-old they remembered. Weeping with happiness, they welcomed her with open arms, and for a while it felt like old times. The next morning, though, as a cold dawn bloomed over an icy sky, Trixie realized that her time with Guy and Maran had passed. Things could not be the way they had. The Rapture had lost its power, and as much as she truly loved them both, it was time to move on. Something was calling to her...something in the snowy woods. Walking out of Guy and Maran's house, shedding her clothes and shifting to fox-form, Trixie slipped into the still-wild forest, dark and deep; her footprints changing to paw-prints in the snow.

For almost two years, Trixie lived in her fox-body, subsisting on mice and fresh kills. She escaped traps, hunters and predators much larger than she, and nestled securely in the dark places of the woods. Though she was "smarter than the average fox," as it were; by and large Trixie ignored her flashes of human insight and memory; happy enough was she to live in her warm, furry skin and simple animal mind.

The second spring of Trixie's foxhood saw an early snow-melt. Trixie had enjoyed her simple animal life, but decided that it was time for her to return to her human seeming and live as she had. She quickly found that, without fur or clothing, spring in Illinois can still be unbelivably cold. Scrounging for clothes on park grounds, she fell afoul of a pack of Garou; but escaped by shifting to fox-form and skittering from tree to tree. She had better luck outside the park, finding suitable clothing and heading out to the suburb where Guy and Maran had lived.

She found the house, and peered in a window. She saw her two loves--happy together, preparing a meal, older than she remembered them as having been but still very much in love. And she saw something else, too--a smaller chair at the table, with a tiny plate--a child's plate. Maran had had a baby since Trixie had left them, and now there would be no room for the Changeling in their lives. Besides, they seemed happy enough without her. (What she couldn't see is how Maran still woke in the middle of the night crying and calling her name. Sadly, Trixie would never know this.) Disheartened, Trixie walked away from the house, and kept walking until she reached the city. On a park bench, she watched TV through a shop-window and waited for a vampire with good enough long-term memory to come along and end her life.

Eventually, a homeless woman sat down beside Trixie and started telling her life's story. She looked like an ex-Guns N' Roses groupie in black leather and ragged clothes, talking with a Brooklyn accent thick enough to dent concrete. Trixie ignored her at first, but soon realized that this was no ordinary bag-lady--she was a Garou who had been kicked out of her pack after failing to chase down a shape-changing fox that had wandered into a Garou gathering. Joan--the homeless Garou--soon came to a similar realization, and threatened to kill Trixie, but before she could both of them were blindsided by the arrival of a small white Volkswagen bus, which tipped over in front of them. Two men in black suits--a a big Gypsy in a purple do-rag and a short white guy with a black goatee--emerged and began to shoot at their pursuers, a group of high-tech Hunters in body armor. The fight spilled over into a nearby alleyway, and Trixie and Joan found themselves trapped with the two men; who appeared to be vampires. Joan quickly adapted to the situation, drawing her own guns and firing on the Hunters. Trixie decided to go with the flow, and having filched an Uzi from one of the men, started shooting as well.

Before any of them knew what had happened, Joan and Trixie were fleeing with the two Ravnos vampires in their VW microbus. The big one with the do-rag--Mercutio--explained that they were on the run after having stolen an artifact from a group of Setite bikers. Said bikers soon gave chase to the bus. Like it or not, Trixie was soon wrapped up in another violent jaunt cross-country; as she, Joan, the Diamond Dogs (Ian and Mercutio) and a mage named Hellen Odessa attempted to get rid of the Setite artifact without drawing the attention of the Hunters, the Technocracy, or the Setites.

Though said adventure did help to reignite Trixie's love affair with automatic shotguns and armor-piercing explosive ammunition; after the dust had settled she decided it was time to slow things down a bit and take a break in a quiet area to think about her life. Trixie took a long, meandering road trip on her new bike--christened Graywing, after her mentor--to find such a place; and eventually arrived in Providence, Rhode Island. She rented a small seaside room there, spending her time watching the ocean and wondering who she really was. She began to think about writing a book, or maybe getting a job and staying in Providence, allowing her life as a Changeling to end and slip into mortal existence once more. She started having dreams about Brian again, but now they were good dreams--sad, but good. She got a small color TV and rediscovered cartoons, but didn't watch all the time like she used to. Trixie's life was a little quiet and gray, but pleasant--even happy, on occasion. She started living for herself.

Two things changed this.

The first arrived in the form of the Strange As Angels Performing Troupe, a travelling cadre of Shakespearian actors who came to Providence to put on a performance in the park. Trixie came upon them by accident when she discovered Tom in the grocery store--the shock of seeing another Changeling was enough to turn her white. Fortunately, Tom was friendly, if a bit overly so--Satyrs usually were. He and Trixie got along well, and he introduced her to the rest of the Angels at a local pub--all Satyrs, men and women, old and young; and all of them all too happy to meet her. A jovial, rotund Satyr named Big Addy, the self-styled leader of the Angels; welcomed the fox-girl with open arms and made her feel right at home in his coterie. Though Trixie was a little shy at first, she soon found herself right at home with the hedonistic crew, drinking heavily and laughing it up. Something about them bothered her, though; she was unable to put her finger on it. Feeling uneasy, Trixie politely excused herself before the party devolved into an orgy of depravity and bacchanalia (which, normally, she would have been very much up for).

The second thing was what Trixie glimpsed early the next morning, as she struggled outside, trying to clear her head from her whopping hangover. As she sat on the rocky beach trying to wake up with the aid of black coffee and a pack of Luckies, a flash of motion on the shore caught her eye--a seal, lolling on the rocks and howling; its tail caught in a tangled mass of netting. Despite her headache, Trixie cautiously approached the seal and gently removed the netting, freeing it.

The seal backed up on its haunches and looked at Trixie, sniffing the air. To Trixie's utter shock, the seal then shifted into the form of a beautiful young woman, clad only in seawater, her skin mottled gray like the stones she crouched upon. The girl thanked Trixie, and without another word dove straight back into the sea; her body shifting back to her seal-form.

Trixie was stunned. Brian had told her about other shape-shifters, and she had even met the occasional Pooka when they had visited Court together; but this was something altogether different. She remembered that Brian had called these creatures Selkies--humans who maintainted a seal-form and lived in the ocean as animals. She became fascinated with the idea, and with the girl, too. As the days went by, Trixie spent less and less time with Tom (who was smitten with her) and more time looking for the Selkie girl on the beach. The girl's dark eyes and the smell of her wet seal-skin haunted Trixie's dreams.

Trixie wasn't sure why exactly she was obsessed with the Selkie; only that she knew she wanted to talk to the girl, to speak with someone else who could change shape like Trixie could. Her heart, of course, told a different story; but Trixie rationalised away her feelings as best she could. Finally, one night she was able to coax the girl onto the beach. But the girl collapsed at Trixie's feet--out of the water and in her human form, she was weak and very cold. She desperately needed warmth to survive.

Carrying the girl to her room, Trixie was more than willing to provide her with warmth.

continued...

Fourth Wall? We don't NEED no stinkin' FOURTH WALL!

2005-11-06T07:36:50Z

((Look alive, slapmonkeys! Trixie's writer here. It's been a while since I've said much of anything--and right now the Sci-Fi network's playing the four-hour version of Dune all night so I'm a lil' distracted--but I wanted to lay some stuff down for 'yall that's been on my mind.

I've noticed a lot lately that the icons people use to represent their characters tend to be a photograph of an actual person. This bugged the SHIT out of me for the longest time 'cos I kept thinking that all these characters were from TV or something, and I had no idea who they were because I don't watch all that much TV (classic sci-fi notwithstanding). What makes it worse is when you get a dozen or so showing up all apparently as the same waifish brunette chick with big spooky eyes, mumbling shit like "momma fell down stairs, dark place scary muffins. monsters in hair dryer. curling up in fetal position. muffins scary?" Let me tell you that crap is wearing REAL thin. But enough about that.

Anyway, I figured out eventually that most of these characters are OC's, which makes more sense. I guess it seems a little weird to me, making real people represent your fictional character; but then again not everybody can draw an icon, not everybody has access to an artist friend who can put an icon together for them, etc. That's all well and good, I guess. I guess it's extra weird for me because for the longest time, it was really hard to nail down what Trixie looked like, and the thought of using a real person to represent her appearance is a little...I dunno. Kooky. I mean, I know she had the magenta hair going on, and the basic build and height; but that's about it until I started nailing down spefics. Trixie's current icon is about as close as anybody's gonna get, thanks to teadee; who's doing a new set for us soon.

This whole thing made me start thinking about what Trixie "really" looks like, and the many interpretations of her look in my mind...

In terms of Trixie being represented by real people, I found this picture recently (can't remember where) and it reminded me of her:

Not that she belongs in the kitchen, mind you. But the wearing of the big saucepan and the general whacked-out expression does seem pretty typical. And at her absolute best and prettiest and sexiest, Trixie does resemble--in some respects--Rachael Leigh Cook.

Though she's normally a bit scruffier and scrawnier than Ms. Cook, even at her best. Here's a sketch that berus did back in the 2058 days:

At the time, this was the closest anybody had yet come to approximating Trixie's look. I really like what he did here with her mouth; and although I think he got the hair a little too short I like the little drapy-curlies on the side of her cheeks.

To be sure, Trixie has a kind of pre-rolled soulmate in Haruko Haruhara, the enfant terrible antagonist of FLCL; the trend-setting anime that has yet to be surpassed in pure, unmitigated weirdness. And there are some design features that found their way from Haruko to Trixie along the way...

However: Haruko's a little harsh compared to Trixie's laid-back, cartoons-and-cereal attitude. They *do* share a love for surrealness and wanton violence when it gets the job done, though. (A far more Haruko-inspired version of Trixie appeared in "Metatokyo High," an alternate-universe fic that we started but never quite got around to finishing. We should really go back and start that up again someday.)

And here's the most concrete version of Trixie so far, giving Peach a piggyback ride in a piece of gift art from teadee:

AWWWWW. Yeah, I know, it's cute. Yoru felt Trixie would have longer hair in 2061, and that works just fine for me.

I expect Trixie's appearance will continue to evolve and change in my mind and in other peoples' renditions of her, regardless of how I'd like to nail down one definitive image as the real deal. I'm looking forward to getting her new icons...))