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All the whatever for bighookenergy
Aug. 30th, 2019 08:24 pmBeing an Alpha and a Guide at the same time wasn't unheard of, but it was rare. That (potential) level of possessiveness and aggression combined with that (potential) level of empathy would be enough to fry a person's system with the amount of drugs needed to balance them both.
Which was why Ruby was glad that she'd gotten one of the few available positions at the Academy, where neither mood stabilizers nor hormone blockers were mandatory, and were only administered forcibly in an actual emergency situation. Mostly because they didn't hold to old beliefs that an unchecked heat or an unbroken fugue were as likely as not a death sentence for the afflicted party. Certainly it wouldn't be comfortable, but both were survivable.
She'd had aggression problems when she was younger, to the tune of having been kicked out of three schools before she was ten and homeschooled thereafter, but she'd grown out of it, and had learned to self-regulate (for the most part) but the problem was that was still a pretty big mark on her record and most colleges wouldn't accept her unless she had a doctor's note and a standing prescription order. She had been surprised, and pleased, and relieved that the Academy hadn't required anything of the sort. Though she'd learned during the application process that it was because they specialized in rare cases like herself.
And now, here she was, six weeks into the school year and finally starting to feel like the metaphorical rug wasn't going to be yanked out from under her at every turn.
She was taking advantage of a long break between classes to enjoy the weather, perched on a dividing wall, hoodie on, but hood down, not feeling the need to be invisible for once, eating a snack and attempting to lure one of the campus squirrels close enough to touch.
Which was why Ruby was glad that she'd gotten one of the few available positions at the Academy, where neither mood stabilizers nor hormone blockers were mandatory, and were only administered forcibly in an actual emergency situation. Mostly because they didn't hold to old beliefs that an unchecked heat or an unbroken fugue were as likely as not a death sentence for the afflicted party. Certainly it wouldn't be comfortable, but both were survivable.
She'd had aggression problems when she was younger, to the tune of having been kicked out of three schools before she was ten and homeschooled thereafter, but she'd grown out of it, and had learned to self-regulate (for the most part) but the problem was that was still a pretty big mark on her record and most colleges wouldn't accept her unless she had a doctor's note and a standing prescription order. She had been surprised, and pleased, and relieved that the Academy hadn't required anything of the sort. Though she'd learned during the application process that it was because they specialized in rare cases like herself.
And now, here she was, six weeks into the school year and finally starting to feel like the metaphorical rug wasn't going to be yanked out from under her at every turn.
She was taking advantage of a long break between classes to enjoy the weather, perched on a dividing wall, hoodie on, but hood down, not feeling the need to be invisible for once, eating a snack and attempting to lure one of the campus squirrels close enough to touch.
