#about sable

[black---velvet]

An ooc moment: so glad @jean-clauderp uses this handsome man for Sable's eldest boy ❤️

[accidentallyadoptedazoo]

Opinions Needed

I had an attempted adoption/foster last summer named Sable. She ended up being a very poor match for my family. (You can read the full story under the #about sable tag.) She’s had her named changed, went to rescue, and been adopted.

Here’s the thing I’m wondering, would it be weird to reuse the name. I generally have a strict rule against reusing names because I feel like it’s bad luck. And yes, I know that’s superstitious nonsense.

So, reusing names, weird or no?

[karmazpositivedreamz]

Favorite part about sable and why?

Hello, Anon! Thank you for your ask ^^

My favorite part about Sable would have to be his appearance so far. He has an attitude towards me as his creator, which I get. The reason why I like his appearance so much right now is I just think he looks pretty cool if I do say so myself 😎✨ lolz

Personality wise? Despite being considered dangerous, he's not an actual bad guy. He may look it, but he still has 'humanity' left in him thanks to the cigarettes he smokes(they aren't regular ones. Hope that one drawing helped clear that up considering the chromatic smoke clouds 😂), which keeps him stabilized mentally and emotionally for the most part. Why I like this about him is he's still determined to be a good guy, despite the wrongs he has committed in the past. He knows he did wrong, and he won't forgive himself, at least fully if ever. He's willing to take steps forward, towards doing better for both others of the past he did wrong towards, the present ones, as well as for himself in some way. Although I am still building him up, I like how he's turning out bit by bit. Even if he may not show it directly, he does care, especiallywhen he isn't feeling... Devoid of his emotions? But that's something else. And he's pretty good at being a total ahh most of the time. Though I will add that in general, his personality can and will change, but mainly I guess you could say he gives off Killer Sans vibes for the most part despite what I've said. And I don't say that because of the DT looking stains on his cheekbones. That is something else, not DT like what Killer has.

Mm- I rambled. I think. Dunno if I got off track or not, lmao. But even if I did, free extra info that might help others get to know about him a bit more.

*scurries off* 🐀

[black---velvet]

basic details

personality

She’s charismatic. Got that Southern, silver-tongued charm. Can talk her way out of anything, including being detained at an airport in the 90s with a gun in her purse. Sable tells it like it is, has no filter, and that might either come as offensive or refreshing, depending on who’s on the receiving end. She’s a natural mother, loves her kids and the people of the coven like a family, spoils them within reason even though they can fend for their damn selves.

Talkative with the right topic and the right people, but a damn dirty gossip. Words can cause war, can’t they? And that’s what she likes to watch unfold. She’s friendly for the most part, will keep you at arm’s length for a good while. Til she’s had time to see if your true colors are the good ones or the ones that are hard to look at it. Always up for a challenge. She’s resilient, tough as nails, and a hard-ass.

On the other hand, Sable can be too pushy if you’re trying to chicken out of something you said you’d do. Will call you a quitter. She can be conniving, aggressive, a spat out “I’m FINE” usually means you better run. With a skewed moral compass, she’s easy to set off, and holds grudges for as long as you live and breathe. A she-devil, her redheaded temper is the sort of thing the stereotype was probably founded on. She has a gun and she knows how to use it when the magic just ain’t quick enough.

appearance 

Despite a height of around 5’6” and an hour-glass figure, Sable has never tried to show her body off. She prefers clothes that accentuate her curves but isn’t about to throw on a fancy red dress and take on New York City. Her hair is bright red and naturally curly, worn ‘fluffy’ as she puts it, touching her shoulders just barely. Her eyes are a very deep and bright blue, ‘hypnotic’ according to one drunk guy at a dive bar in Lexington (and then she rolled them, so he could see the whites instead). Regardless of her age, she doesn't look a day over 40.

Her upturned nose gives her upper lip a thinner appearance, but she attempts to combat that with cosmetics, like any other woman might. She prefers her eyeshadows neutral, lipsticks in dark shades of mauve pink and her nails ‘Lincoln Park After Dark’. Her style is relatively simple: black, gingham, denim. She wears leather cowgirl boots and little else. Forcing her into a dress and heels would be a feat, but she’s willing to do it if the night is warm and the liquor is plenty.

The Montgomery bloodline birthmark is a twisted sigil with an indeterminate shape, weird like an ancient rune but with a flair to it, hidden on the inside of her wrist. Her youngest son likes to joke and tell her it's just like the mark of a pirate.

powers

“The Motion” of the Montgomery line (see: History) is, simply, telekinesis. Her father handed down his ability to ‘throw things with his mind’ to his daughter. Sable herself has honed this ability the most, and has even gone so far as to wondering how useful it might be in murder (you never know when you might need it). Though she can do impressive feats without moving an inch, the magic takes a mighty toll on her physically, causing long-lasting migraines and bleeding from her ears or nose. She uses it for simple things, typically – things that do not require a great deal of concentration and energy.

Her other gifts come from a bit of a combination of her mother. She shares her mother’s ability to create potions (some of which are ‘cooked’ into her candles). She presently owns and operates a candle store.

Besides telekinesis, she is also gifted in Summoning, and uses it to shoot the shit with demons.

[black---velvet]

history

Her Momma used to say she was born on the hottest day in 1848, which was pretty far-fetched to say for the month of March. Would swear up and down that a freak heat wave moved through Louisiana and nearly evaporated the swamps. Sable always assumed she only said this because of the bright red color of her hair, and would also assume that was the reason she was given a name that meant ‘sand’ in French, since it burned the bottoms of your feet like hot coals in the summer.

Momma was a swamp witch, whatever that meant. She’d simplify her abilities just so. Daddy was a Montgomery, an old bloodline that specialized in something they called ‘the motion’, what Momma called ‘déplacer’– move, travel, displace.

What they did was move things with their minds.

Sable couldn’t do it for the longest time. Maybe it was partly because Daddy used to toss her in the air with his own power, thinking she’d like it. Thinking the thrill of a high place was something exhilarating to a child.

It wasn’t.

She was eleven when she did it for the first time.

You know how boys tended to get real annoying when they turned a certain age around girls? One that always came to the park liked to throw whatever his nasty hands could find at Sable. Pinecones, slugs, clods of dirt. Take a pinecone to the side of the head once and no one could blame her for what happened next.

A freak gust of wind! That’s what her Momma had told his Momma. Wasn’t real normal for anyone to be blown into a tree trunk, but she had to cover for her daughter somehow. Had to assure the other woman it was something natural that happened to her son, resulted in his fractured shoulder.

Daddy had been so proud.

When she was thirteen, Daddy had to go off to war. Fought under a general named Stonewall Jackson. She wondered why on earth he had a name like ‘Stonewall’, no matter how many times her Momma told her it wasn’t his real name.

“Well then what is it?”

“Somethin’a starts with a T.”

“I like Stonewall better.”

No one thought a son of the Montgomery line would fall to something as simple as a bullet.

She was fifteen when she heard about it. Had hardly seen him in two years. Got letters all the time, addressed to Red, Pumpkin, whatever nickname he felt like using. She’d felt like dying for the longest time, Momma too. They mourned for so long that four and a half seasons passed before either of them felt like smiling again.

He’d been the rock of their family.

At a young age, she got married. Too young, in her opinion. Had a girl child and a boy child, both with the motion. Her daughter made the house shake from the age of ten, and her son liked bending spoons from the age of thirteen. Beautiful, gifted, perfect.

Then the wars came again. And off her husband went. And went the way of Daddy.

War was a foul thing. A thing that became commonplace in their lives. After the airplane was invented (which her Momma referred to as ‘unnecessary tin can birds’ -- why fly through the air in a death trap when you could just as easily ride a horse or take a carriage or walk with the legs mother nature blessed you with?), it got aggressive.

The Great War happened, followed by the second one. They’d said the first had been ‘the war to end all wars’ – shit, had they been wrong. Years passed and the rumbling of a bomber overhead became normal. Sable wondered what it was like over there, where the bombs actually dropped. Momma had cried about Germany. Cried about Japan. Innocents, she insisted.

Sable wondered what the point of it all was.

A spat over land? Control? What did they want, in the long run? Surely not peace. Peace couldn’t be had with battle, could it? Though everyone else seemed to think so, Sable always thought it would have been a lot smarter to talk it over instead of committing acts of mass genocide.

But who was she to say anything? Just a simple girl from Louisiana couldn’t have a clue.

Distant contempt turned into a morbid fascination. Pitting brother against brother, that’s what the Civil War had been about. Now it was nation against nation. Death wasn’t ever something to feel charmed about, but the mindset of a leader when he decided to give the ‘okay’ to drop a weapon of mass destruction…

What was going through his mind?

She’d listened to J. Robert Oppenheimer on the television. What was it like to become Death, destroyer of worlds? A concept chilling but fascinating. Made her heart race at the thought of it. Made her wonder how easy it would be without the bullets and the dynamite.

What if mere words could do the same thing?

She ended up moving a lot. Took her Momma and her kids with her. The swamp witch of Louisiana found new homes in Tennessee, Virginia, Ohio, Massachusetts, and Maine. They settled right back in Louisiana after a while, though, since it seemed like the right thing to do.

By that time, there were covens abound in Louisiana. More than the Montgomery’s had ever heard of. 

omehow they put a bad taste in Momma’s mouth and whatever Momma didn’t like, Sable tended not to like either.

Somehow Momma had the talent of whispering little things into people’s ears. Blow their minds just enough to make them wanna tell someone else. She started a whole Cold War on the block between all the stay-at-home wives. It was a talent Sable couldn’t help but admire.

“Is that true?” she’d ask.

“Nah, I made it up,” Momma would say.

Another husband and another two kids later, Sable could feel the temptation to stir shit up herself. With the littlest screaming his head off for this or that constantly, she began to feel an itch for mayhem. Chaos. Anything to save her from the boredom of being one of those stay-at-home wives.

So she leaned over the picket fence between herself and Mrs. So-n-So next door and grinned a real evil grin and said, “Did you hear about Mrs. Whatsherface?”

She’d made the whole thing up. Told her not to repeat it. Told her she hadn’t heard it from her. Told her to take it to the grave.

Naturally, she’d told Mrs. Downthestreet, and she told Mrs. Acrosstheway. It escalated, and soon Mrs. Whatsherface was the hottest topic of the street. Put a little spell on Mrs. So-n-So so she’d forget who told her in the first place.

War.

So fascinating. Humans were fascinating.

At some point she became a grandmother. At another point it seemed that there were too many mouths around her. Momma, Nanna, I want, I need. Sable had to find her center again. And what was that center?

Havoc. God, it felt so good to just throw shit right at a fan.

Was around this time she started talking more to man who was part of a neighboring coven, Reign, people called him. Sidled up alongside him one night over a beer and tried to tell him about Mr. and Mrs. Yellowhouseonthecorner and something about cheating with a babysitter. He’d grinned right back at her and said, “Woman, you made that up.”

And then he told her something better. Something wilder.

“You made that up,” she said.

“I did,” he said.

And for the next decade, they stuck together. Their affair was easy. Like two puzzle pieces fitting together. Raising hell together. Subtly, of course. Reign knew how to sow the seeds of chaos like he was born doing it. And maybe he was. She admired it about him.

They lived through the eighties together, then decided they were better off apart. Like when you find out the puzzle piece sort of fit weird the whole time. Two shades of havoc tended to clash in the bedroom more often than not, so, they went their separate ways.

The Gulf War happened, the internet was invented, Clinton let a woman fellate him in the Oval Office. A plane crashed into the Twin Towers.

War started again.

[accidentallyadoptedazoo]

Look! Midge (formerly Sable) has been adopted!

[accidentallyadoptedazoo]

Sable is already listed on their FB page (even though she won't be available for weeks)

[accidentallyadoptedazoo]

Bad News

My husband and I made a very hard decision for Sable today. We took a couple weeks to make sure it was the right one for our family. Sable was returned to the shelter because she presented too high of a bite risk for my stepson. If she had bit him, it would have likely resulted in her being euthanized and a long custody battle. Instead of putting either Sable or my stepson in that position, we decided it was better for everyone to find a more suitable home, either through the shelter or through rescue. I will be personally helping to get her into a rescue if a suitable adopter is not found here. Sable is not an aggression biter, but did bite hard and often when she wanted attention. She left six significant bruises on me that are taking on average two weeks to heal.