This post was written for the following challenges created by @/who-is-page:
Day 25 of the Alterhuman Writing Challenge
Day 3 of the Folcintera Week Challenge
3. What are some of the mythological, magical, religious, fictional, or cultural themes and species which exist and affect or are a part of your folcinteric nonhumanity? Have you voluntarily embraced certain aspects of these, or did you merely find yourself resonating with them from the beginning?
My experiences touch on each of these contexts. That aside, this response will be focusing on only one side of the liondrake.
I am called many things: a demon, a god, a guardian, an alien, a beast and even magic incarnate. I’d say only two of these are correct. I am magic incarnate, and I'm damn sure a beast because of it. Everything else came about as speculation from those who brought me, and others like me, into their world. These terms were thrown around based on human perceptions, as is the case with being a part of their folklore anyway.
Indeed, I’m a menagerie of things to many people. Regardless, I've always preferred the title of The Winged Lion. It distinguishes me from my relatives, *the Man-Eating Swine and the Sheep of Ruin. Better yet, it gives me a sense of agency. Humans, such as Mithrun, are comfortable in framing me as the boogeymen of their folklore and mythos. At first, I had no qualms with it. Yet, when I became synonymous with rumors and conspiracies, that is when they earned my ire.
*These titles are non-canonical to Ryoko Kui’s interpretation of events and specifically refer to those I’m familiar with. This is specified to avoid confusion.
I am as real as anyone else. “The Demon” that they tell of is not a “hidden truth” behind how I present myself, but rather an evolutionary development that was centuries in the making. “The Demon” refers to the collective presence of an otherworldly, (allegedly) all-powerful entity that targeted the desires of men.
That interpretation is half-true. I certainly existed as a part of a collective, increasing growing as a result of eating desires. However, there’s nothing “all-powerful” about beings like me. If anything, we rely on other beings more than they rely on us.
I don’t deny the fact that I played a role in leeching at the desires of men, but the beginning was a lot more complex than their stories made it seem.
Historically, the concept of "The Demon" began with the ancients and the discovery of mana. The ancients are unrivaled for their tenacity. It was something of great merit, but tenacity is often followed by insatiable pursuits. Upon opening a rift between their dimension and another, a cosmic force of nature leaked into their world. That cosmic force of nature was mana, the very essence of magic and the fabric of my being.
Now, mana is extremely impressionable. We can take any form, and we can be affected by our environment quite easily. Extensions of mana first developed sentience due to our interactions with living creatures, but our sapience wouldn't come until much later. Until then, we operated as a hive mind. Fulfilling the desires of our charges was our focus. Pulling from our home dimension(s)'s well of energy was what we did to see this duty through. In doing so, the hive mind was stabilized. In other words, we were "fed".
When humans began to harness mana as a tool, our behavior shifted. The connection of the hive mind loosened. We still existed within a network, but we became more individual. Me personally, I came shortly after the world was first ravaged by our hive mind and its capabilities. I was invoked by Thistle. From there on, we got to work. The people of Golden Country soon wove me into their culture. Their spirituality, their folklore, their heraldry, you name it— there I was, forged into a symbol of prosperity and peace.
Was I either of those things? Depends. I could certainly portray myself as such, at least to bring comfort and relief. Yet, the allure of myth and legend isn’t what’s set in stone. It’s the act of belief.
Belief is a universal constant, at least in the case of sapient beings. It’s added to the tapestry of civilization for all sorts of worlds, including this one. In the case of my fictomere, belief is how magic comes to life. It spurs from the wishes and intentions of the caster. We are simply a vehicle for that transaction.
Consider the practice of resurrection magic as an example. Resurrection magic is a subset of healing magic and necromancy. It’s performed with the intent to imbue life back into the deceased. This may involve the use of sacrificial meat (strictly from livestock) to regenerate limbs, organs and other body parts, depending on the severity of the recipient’s death. When preparing to resurrect someone, the intention to give them life is focused into the spell being casted. Much like all magic, a wish is given focus and channeled through mana. Once the proper steps are executed, the formerly deceased adventurer is restored. They can walk amongst the living as if nothing happened.
To keep it short and simple, belief is power. Remember what I said about beings like me relying more on others than they rely on us? There you have it. It may seem like the other way around, given how consuming belief can be. Even so, mythology and folklore are but husks without the people behind them. That includes the figures within either practice.
The principle of belief remains true on Earth, and that doesn’t surprise me in comparison to other world(s). As extensions of this greater concept, beings like me cannot do anything unless we’re supplied with powers such as this. That can only come from other beings, not ourselves. Naturally, we aren’t supposed to experience any of these things. However, overconsumption caused us to develop these qualities.
As said in my source, we became “too human” as a result of our charges and our connection to them.
We were feared.
We were worshipped.
We were hated.
We were respected.
I don’t think I had a strong opinion on any perspective. I still don’t, if I’m being honest. Yet, of us all, I almost dealt the heaviest blow against the world. Instead, I received a blow of my own that was too hard to bear.
If one looked at my lore from a culturally Christian perspective, one could say I was narratively in the role of God and Lucifer all at once. The former for my history of being revered, but satisfying humans with little to no payoff. The latter for the depth of my actions and the conclusion that came with them. My curse upon Laios could also be read as an act of wrath akin to Satan’s own. But in terms of “sin”, I am closer in concept to Beelzebub for the gluttony I inspire.
In terms of my world’s actual religious contexts, the iconography of me is heavily challenged. Although The Winged Lion is still widely used in referral to me, some regarded me as The World Devourer. Despite my departure, I inspired yet another myth in my likeness.
This was based on the event of my escape. By succeeding Laios’s body, I rose from the dungeon and attempted to pluck each living thing from the world into the vast reaches of space. From there, they would enter a state of mind-numbing bliss, living without having to worry or suffer again within my stomach.
In the most literal sense, I was trying to devour the world for the sake of humanity and its troubled existence. That plan failed, obviously. By becoming a monster that could consume desires, Laios acted as I would and devoured my desire. He banished this “world devourer” from his home and became the Devourer of All Things Horrible. In the end, our legends became one.
That didn’t stop a lot of upset from happening, though. Laios insisted that I was still a part of the land’s culture. The people of Golden Country saw a future free of struggle and strife through me. Laios decided to honor their dreams by incorporating my heraldry with his own.
Although my feelings have soured towards the king, two things about him are for certain: he equally extends his grace to all life, and his wisdom is true. That is something I’d never deny Laios Touden as an individual, no less a leader.
So, what of me? How do I feel about my mythos?
When I suspected that being The Winged Lion, I didn’t readily accept myself. In fact, I detested myself. I made it a point to say “I’m like The Winged Lion but better!” to my orthohuman friends. They’re cool about my identity but hopped on board with it to hype me up. I found it validating at first, but over time, I stopped making that joke because I realized I am The Winged Lion. No if’s, no but’s, none of it.
This is who I am. Why am I turning away from it?
I decided to catch up on the source material that details the folklore of King Laios, his origins and how we became entangled with one another. Reading Delicious in Dungeon reminded me of how much I love human beings, even if the central one wronged me in the end. It also stroke a chord within me once I reached my placement in his story. By familiarizing myself with my folklore, I was overwhelmed with shame but not towards who I am.
I was ashamed that I was so adamantly against this fictotype that I barred myself from exploring it further. I don’t know what caused me to turn my nose up at myself, but I felt like a fool for acting that way. I’m just lucky that not a lot of time was lost between my prior behavior and making that realization.
I deserved to love myself. I deserved to take claim of who I am without pushing myself away.
In the best way I can word it, realizing that I’m The Winged Lion felt like the moment I figured out my ties to Dungeons & Dragons. Despite the discoveries I’ve made in these past couple of years, these two invoked something in me that was a mix of solace and frustration.
Why didn’t I realize this sooner? isn’t a question I ask myself often when embracing a new ‘type. It’s an experience that’s not necessarily innate, but feels like it should be which is why I get so frustrated.
This is who I am, but why did it take so long to notice? That sort of thinking, you know?
Nowadays, I take my mythos in stride. I have nothing to apologize for or condemn. I reckon a good deal of “antagonistic” mythical and/or folkloric figures will find that there’s no point in regretting your stories, especially how they unfolded. You are beyond the people you knew and engaged with. You exist not only in their memory, but in their conversations and histories.
When I finished Delicious in Dungeon, I took a good look at Laios’s heraldic banner. I did it not in scorn but in a moment of reconciliation. On the left had been me. On the right had been him, not as a monster-slaying knight but as a monster himself. It brought a smile to my face.
This post was written for the following challenges created by @/who-is-page:
Day 29 of the Alterhuman Writing Challenge
Day 7 of the Folcintera Week Challenge
7. Some view their nonhumanity as a blessing, while others view it as a curse— where do you fall on this spectrum? What are your opinions about your personal nonhumanity? Are you grateful for it? Would you rather not be nonhuman at all? Why do you feel this way?
My nonhumanity is neither a blessing nor a curse. It's my life. Simple as that. As life goes, it has its highs and lows. My nonhumanity yields plenty of complexities, just by how confusing polymorphism can be. At the same time, my nonhumanity has its moments of simplicity. This morning, I watched Wild Africa and became an oryx upon watching members of my species spar with each other. For the time being, it was nice. No questioning or doubting, just me, Sivaan the scimitar-horned oryx. As I type this, I am now a Gemsbok.
I think the best way to describe my nonhumanity is transformative. It is a massive change of pace from everything I’ve ever known. Honestly, I can say this about my alterhumanity as a whole— not just in terms of my species! I’ve garnered all sorts of lifestyle practices and philosophies to experiment with, thanks to my alterhumanity. However, I’ll dial back a bit for clarity’s sake. Nonhumanity is the focus of this question.
Through discovering and exploring myself in this way, I feel like I'm approaching everything with a fresh perspective. I can say wholeheartedly that becoming a part of this community has given more meaning to my life and how I engage with the world around me. Becoming more involved also pulled me out of my slump as a writer. College drained me of any drive I had. I've scrapped manuscript after manuscript while trying to complete undergrad. I did it, thankfully. Yet, I also grew distant with the craft I've loved since I was a child.
My journey as a transspecies beast gave me the opportunity to write again. This time, it wasn't for a deadline or a grade. It was for me. I am grateful that I revisited these feelings from my teenage years. If I hadn't met my nonhuman friends along the way, and decidedly took the chance to embrace my identity, there's no telling if I'd even have the motivation to write again.
I imagine my life wouldn't be all "doom and gloom" if I hadn't revisited my past with this community. That said, I do believe I'd feel like something was missing. Perhaps, I'd pick up something else to fill the void. I did mention the likelihood of me becoming a furry lifestyler in my previous response. Or, there's always the possibility of the community finding me again. After all, TikTok has a pretty sizable group of therians. Granted, there's the problems of that platform to consider. Those spaces are rich with things that annoy me such as old discourse being recycled, outdated or even flat-out wrong definitions, and the appeasement of anti-kin/therian humans. Regardless, those are possibilities that didn't come into fruition.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: "What if" moments are hard to speculate on. I'm better off leaving them be as passing thoughts.
I'll tell you what's not a "What if" moment, though. I finished one writing challenge, and tomorrow, I will finish another. Looks like killing two birds with one stone truly did work out. This is the first writing challenge I've finished since high school. Do I have my nonhumanity to thank for that or myself? The way I see it, it's a little bit of both!
This post was written for the following challenges created by @/who-is-page:
Day 27 of the Alterhuman Writing Challenge
Day 5 of the Folcintera Week Challenge
5.) How and when did you realize the specifics of your species? Was it a long journey, or a short one? Did you know immediately what you were, or was it something that took a while to figure out? Are you still questioning and understanding your species identity?
When it comes to the specifics of my identity, I made my realization by assessing what felt intrinsic to me. In the course of two years, draconity, lionhood and polymorphism have been consistent parts of me. Yet, it took that same amount of time to understand the connections they share. It wasn’t until recently when this realization sunk in. As the year turned over, I went from labeling myself as a draconic polymorph to labeling myself as a polymorphic liondrake instead.
In the beginning, my draconity and polymorphism like a given. However, I kept identifying as my polymorphism first when my polymorphism is simply a biological trait of mine. In retrospect, it didn’t make much sense to use it as a whole label when it’s more like a descriptor. It’s like if a hawk were to identify as its ability to fly.
From there, I started looking at my identity from another angle. This past week, I made the connection between my draconity and my felinehood. Amidst everything else that I am, being draconic and leonine felt fundamental to my identity.
I still identify as each form that I have, but they each vary in level of importance. There is my core form: a polymorphic liondrake, which I identify as wholly. It has the most prominence (be it in shifts, memories, etc), therefore it is at the “core” of my polymorphism. There’s my complementary forms, which are ‘types that aren’t necessarily intrinsic to my identity but are still noteworthy for their own prominence. Lastly, there’s my common forms, which are ‘types that I have for varying reasons but equally fall within my polymorphism.
I’m still exploring my species identity, but as of lately, I feel that I am a polymorphic liondrake. This species consists of two fictotypes to form a much greater concept. Of these two fictotypes are a gold dragonne and the Winged Lion. Although different in source, these fictotypes are two sides of the same coin in my experience. Together, they create a whole me. When referring to myself as a liondrake, I am specifically referencing both of these fictotypes as one; I am also referencing how integral being draconic and leonine is for me.
Furthermore, the dragonne side of the liondrake is where all of my other ‘types come from. Most of these ‘types are parallel lives that I’m aware of, thanks to an in-source ability for dragon/nes like me. Dragonsight allows an individual to see into other versions of ourselves across time and space, hence the presence of these other forms. Some come with their own noemata. Some do not and are simply experiences that I have.
The only forms that don’t apply are my endellic ‘types and my linktypes, which each exist outside of that fictomere.
I can’t say that I immediately knew what I am, at least not with great detail. I knew general things. I change shape. I’m a human animal or a were-creature of sorts. I’m a dragon. I have fictional and mythic origins. That’s about it. Everything else was discovered along the way.
As for my journey, it’s still ongoing. I liken my journey with species to my journey with gender: neither were done after a label was settled. My journey with species also involved exploring all sorts of labels, both communal and personal, before reaching that point. I doubt that my journey with species will end any time soon.
This post was written for the following challenges created by @/who-is-page:
Day 26 of the Alterhuman Writing Challenge
Day 4 of the Folcintera Week Challenge
4. How do you incorporate your nonhumanity into your daily life? Alternatively, or in addition to that, how does your nonhumanity manifest itself in your daily life in notable ways?
This question is interesting. I don’t actively incorporate anything, at least not until I started looking at things from an internal perspective. In doing so, it gave more meaning to things I’ve done before joining this community. It’s like playing around with a Rubik’s Cube and finally getting a match after trying a different angle. When I least expected it, a new view of my life clicked into place.
I’m still exploring my species identity and what that entails, yet I feel like my nonhumanity has already fallen into my day-to-day routine. It’s my life as is. Furthermore, what appears to be mundane on the surface can function as exercises in my self-exploration.
One such case is my passion for reading. Human or nonhuman, reading is a common hobby that many folks partake in. I’ve had this hobby for as long as I can remember. Unbeknownst to the humans in my life, this hobby helps facilitate my hoarding practices.
At first glance, (ortho)humans aren’t going to assume my vast collection of books builds upon my draconic culture. However, if I was given the space and understanding to explain, they’d find that hoarding does in fact influence my relationship with this hobby we share!
Last month, I read and responded to Ryuu’s (@/that-dreaming-dragon) writings on the subjectivity of draconity and hoarding. Now, not every dragon has a hoard. That’s as subjective as draconity itself. When applicable, the purpose of hoarding also varies from dragon to dragon. As mentioned in my response, all dragons of my background hoard as a part of our culture.
That said, our reason(s) for hoarding differ based on what kind of dragon we are:
“For example, metallic dragon/nes do not hoard for the same reasons as chromatic dragon/nes do. For Metallic Dragon/nes, we hoard as a show of character. What do we value? What are our passions? That is reflected in our personal hoards, whereas the Chromatic Dragon/nes of my canon hoard as a show of superiority. Whether to outshine their rivals or secure the favor of a potential mate, I’d say their reasons for hoarding is a bit more practical than ours.”
In my case, I am a gold dragonne. I hoard as a show of who I am. My hoard is a mix of my interests and personal details, but most importantly, an overall reflection of my values.
Across all worlds and lives, I value learning. Not to get on a soapbox, but I firmly believe there is no greater gift to have than the gift to learn. The only thing topping that is freedom.
You can’t hope to learn anything if you don’t learn the importance of your own freedom, as well as the freedom of others, first. I have the freedom to showcase my individuality through my hoard, thus I use this freedom to represent my other major value. I use my books not only for their intended purpose, but to reflect my passion for learning and knowledge.
In a nutshell, my books are my hoard. There’s also my dice sets, but that’s beside the point. The point is that these trinkets symbolize the kind of dragon I am, hence why I’ve taken to hoarding them. Your average (ortho)human isn’t going to assume that just by looking at the chest where I keep my books.
As for how my nonhumanity manifests itself, it’s also become a simple part of life. What captures that better than how I experience phantom shifts? My days of waiting for any sensation to happen were awkward, no doubt about it. Those days didn’t stick around for long, though. As of lately, I experience these moments without having to think twice.
There isn’t a day where I don’t wake up in a phantom body, reflecting one of the identities in my *bestiary. On the odd chance that I do wake up without a phantom body, it’s because I’ve reverted back to being an intangible concept again— an extension of the Planes and of mana. That’s fine by me. After all, it’s how I started out. Moreover, even polymorphs need a break from change from time to time!
*Bestiary refers to not only my general existence but also the backlog of ‘types that I have (whether characters, species, concepts, etc).
While I haven’t been formless in a while now, I do have one example of how my phantom body situation works. This morning, I woke up as a honey badger. This wasn’t alarming for two reasons: 1.) this is a long established theriotype of mine and 2.) yesterday, I discussed in the Alterhuman (Tumblr) Community that I took up Redwall Badgers as a fictionlink, despite being a honey badger (an identity that isn’t a linktype for me). In being a badger already, albeit a honey badger and not a European badger, I felt right at home in choosing this Redwall tribe. Due to the recency of that information, it makes sense why I spent my morning as a honey badger.
That said, I went under another phantom shift in the afternoon. I was formless and almost static for a couple of hours. Then, I reverted back to one side of the liondrake: The Winged Lion. Of my phantom bodies, The Winged Lion has proven to be the most prevalent of them— particularly myself as seen in my biography from Ryoko Kui’s Adventurers Bible. There’s no profound reason for this. It’s the most comfortable form for me to take, and it’s as simple as that.
Even now, I’m typing this response from my phone while my second set of (phantom) arms are shoved into the pockets of my hoodie. My wings are folded behind me as well. It feels a little weird, but it’s not nearly as off-putting as my first few phantom shifts as a dragon.
Phantom shifts aren’t particularly striking unless a cameo shift comes around. Those experiences tend to disorient me, but it doesn’t take long to recover from cameos. Otherwise, there’s not much to manifest within my nonhumanity. My phantom shifts are the norm for me.
That said, I wouldn’t say this experience feels like nothing. If anything, I’m grateful that I’ve become so relaxed and can change between forms so casually. What’s notable is that this developed in the course of two years, give or take. It’ll be three years in April.
Granted, it wasn’t easy. Pinpointing which forms felt the most comfortable, let alone were the most significant, was a challenge that still took a while to figure out. Nonetheless, I might as well enjoy where I’m at now. The future is bound to rock the boat at some point!
