#love the color variation on this caramel lizard

[rw-lizardcollector]

Lizard ID: 2 (pt.3)

[rainworld-bestiary]

Caramel lizard color variant research. Varying from tarnished gold to copper tones.

Maaan, I love the color variation in this game. You don't tend to even notice it much but once you do it makes the game so much more enjoyable

[thelastspeecher]

Whoops I wrote more for this variation of my Marriage of Convenience AU with transfemme Stan.

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             Stana wandered around the tidy, if slightly cluttered, living room, trying to figure out what she could from the pictures on the walls.  Orion and Iris were napping in the nursery, clearly tired out by Stana’s arrival.

             “Why do you have so many framed photos of lizards?” Stana finally asked.  Ford, who was in the adjacent kitchen making dinner, looked up.

             “They aren’t lizards.  They’re salamanders.  Salamanders are amphibians, lizards are reptiles.”

             “Okay, why do you have so many framed photos of salamanders?” Stana asked.

             “Angie took them.  She specializes in herpetology, the study of reptiles and amphibians, and does her research primarily on salamanders and other amphibians.”

             “Huh.”  Stana walked over to a particularly large photo.  It looked professional, like it had been done in a studio rather than the woods.  “They’re nice.”

             “You’ll have to let her know.  She’s particularly proud of her photography skills.”

             “I’ll see what I think of her before I give her any compliments,” Stana said.  Ford sighed.

             “Stanl- Stana, please be nice.”

             “To your beard.”

             “My-”  Ford grunted in frustration.  Stana looked over at him, grinning.  The grin quickly faded, however, when she saw Ford’s reddened face.  He was genuinely upset.  “She’s been my best friend for years now and is the mother of my children, so she’s much more than just my beard,” Ford spat.  “Without Angie, I don’t know how I would have survived West Coast Tech.  So yes, be nice to her.  She- she means a lot to me.”

             “All right, all right.”  Stana held up her hands.  “I’ll back off.”  Ford nodded, visibly relieved.  “Didn’t realize I was touching a nerve.”

             “Well…”  Ford looked away.  “Angie’s sacrificed a lot for me.  The least I can do is defend her.”  Stana’s eyes widened.  Everything clicked into place.

             “You feel guilty about marrying her,” she said. Ford squirmed, but didn’t say anything. “I thought you said she was on board with everything.”

             “She is.  But I- she deserves more than I can give her,” Ford said softly.  Stana sighed.  The front door opened.

             “Hello, hello!” a voice chirped.  A young woman stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “How was yer day?” she asked in a distinct southern accent.

             “Excellent, Angie,” Ford replied.  “And, ah, we have a guest.”

             “A guest?”  Angie looked over at Ford, who nodded in Stana’s direction.  Angie’s gaze turned to Stana.  “I wish I’d known earlier, I would’ve cleaned.”

             “Whattaya mean?” Stana asked.  “This place is already clean.”

             “Not to my standards,” Angie said firmly.  She sighed.  “Oh, well.”  She walked up to Stana and held out a hand.  “I’m Stanford’s wife, Angie.”  Stana shook the offered hand.

             “Stana.”

             “Stana?”  Angie smiled. “An odd, but lovely name.”  When her sister-in-law smiled, Stana felt butterflies suddenly form in her stomach.  Angie seemed to be the person the word “petite” had been made for; she was very short and slender, with caramel-colored hair just past chin-length. Her eyes, the same bright blue as Iris’s, twinkled happily.  And she wore a pink cardigan and white dress, an outfit Stana was instantly jealous of.

             Damn, I wish I could pull something like that off.  Even after years of living as a woman, Stana had yet to wear dresses in public.  I’d kill for legs like those.  I’d kill to look half as cute as Ford’s wife.

             “So, how are ya related to Stanford?” Angie asked. Stana blinked.  “The two of ya look mighty similar, so I figure yer relatives. Cousins, perhaps?  I’d assume siblin’s, but Stanford told me he don’t have any sisters.”  Ford cleared his throat.  Angie looked over at him.

             “Stana is my twin,” Ford supplied.  Angie frowned.

             “You told me yer twin was named Stanley.  And also yer brother.”

             “Used to be,” Stana said quietly.  Angie’s eyes shot back to Stana, intensely searching her face.  A tense moment passed before Angie smiled again.

             “It’s quite nice to meet my sister-in-law I didn’t even know I had,” she said diplomatically.  Stana’s jaw dropped.  “I’d best go drop things off in m’ room, then I can help ya with dinner, Stanford.”

             “No worries, I’m almost finished,” Ford said. There was a beep.  Ford opened the oven door, removed a tray from the oven, and then placed it on the counter.  Angie walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek.

             “Thank you, darlin’.”

             “It’s not a problem,” Ford said.  He kissed the top of Angie’s head.  Angie shot Stana another smile, wakening butterflies in Stana’s stomach again, before disappearing down the hallway.  Stan went over to Ford.

             “What the hell was that?” she hissed.  Ford frowned as he closed the oven and turned it off.

             “Is something wrong?”

             “No, but-”  Stana shook her head.  “Why’d she handle all that so well?”

             “I told you.  One of her brothers is in a similar situation.  Angie used to think she had two sisters, now she knows she only has one.”  Ford shrugged.  “And like I also told you, she’s southern, so she’s incredibly polite.  Even when she’s rattled or thrown off by something, she does her best to hide it.”

             “Still!  It’s weird! No one’s ever handled it that well before,” Stana said firmly.  Ford’s face fell.

             “I’m…sorry to hear that,” he said softly.  “Rest assured, however long you stay with us, you won’t have to deal with poor treatment.”  Stana’s heart began to race.

             Ford said his wife would be fine with me.  I didn’t believe him.  But he was right.  Stana looked down the hallway that led to the two bedrooms and nursery.  There aren’t a lot of places I can be me without someone spitting in my face.  And that hot shower still sounds good…

             Maybe I should stay for the night.  Or two. Or however long they’ll let me.