iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 3h

Fattytober 11/31 - Seems that Will doesn't respond the same way as the others. Wonder why? Elizabeth coming along nicely! I've boosted the WG rates- she'll be fine, I'm sure! tips @ ko-fi.com/zandyzolo

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 10/10/2026

Fattytober 10/31 - Two types of rapid population growth in Foster. (Quetelet Index is the historical name for BMI) Elizabeth tomorrow! Tips @ ko-fi.com/zandyzolo

One of the things Emma found most interesting about working at the bakery was the cross-section of the city it gave her. Poor and rich alike came by to buy their goods, or in many cases, just to greet her. The constant attention was tiring, but she knew it would only build her reputation to try to charm every customer who came by.
When she had grown up in Elmsford, there was one summer where she’d attended the counter at her uncle’s bakery. She remembered the sampling of the population there, and there were only two men who ever visited who could be called somewhat fat. At home, people bought very little bread at a time. At home, the store didn’t stock pastries at all.
Here? Pastries galore. Bread sold by the armful.
The prices they were selling the bread for confused her. She had thought that in a richer city, that food would be more expensive. It was not. For the cost of a loaf of bread at home, she could’ve bought three here. If these prices really were correct, maybe that was why Mr. Downing showered her with food as if it was free. Whatever the reason was that their bread was so cheap, it seemed the people of Foster were happy to take advantage of it. The SCS posters that adorned the walls of the bakery enthusiastically recommended that behavior.
“Your consumption builds the south,” they said. “Enjoy the spoils of modern agriculture!” “The more you buy, the more you’ll get!”
It did make sense to her, intuitively. If people bought more stuff, they could pay their workers more so that they could buy more stuff. SCS’s posters seemed very preoccupied with food, but that was probably because they were posters for hanging in a bakery. She saw the emblem on all kinds of factories, not just the ones processing grains and such.
Speaking of those factories, she’d noticed a pattern with their owners. Most people here were not outlandishly large, maybe only 50 or so pounds heavier than what she was used to at home, but, usually, at least once a day, a carriage would arr…

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 09/10/2026

Fattytober 9/31 - Post-bakery thoughts. Emma's filling out a bit now! Tips @ ko-fi.com/zandyzolo

Emma laid naked in her cot, her belly too sensitive to have a nightgown brushing against it. Mr. Downing was a blessing and a curse. On one hand, she didn’t need to buy any food. On the other, this was the fourth night in a row that she lay in bed with a boulder in her stomach, wondering why she’d let him keep inserting more bread into her maw an hour prior. It was obvious that he had started overbaking just so that he could give her snacks throughout the day, and then whatever was leftover at closing time was also ending up in her belly. For some reason, he seemed to love giving her food more than anything else in the world. In the moment, it always felt like it was in her best interest to humor him, and accept the food, but hours later? She often had some serious regrets.
Emma had become quite frail recently, and was always a bit thinner than might have been best for her, so she was happy to have so much to eat. It felt great to have erased her deficit in food so quickly. It was just uncomfortable, always going to bed stuffed like this. She rolled over, hoping a different position might soothe her aching stomach. Alas, it did not.
Her regrets weren’t limited to just eating too much, though. Every night, without fail, she’d replay the events of the day and scold herself for something or other. It was always things that seemed natural in the moment, but hours later, seemed horrifyingly manipulative. This was never a problem in Elmsford. She had no trouble being a normal girl there. Why was she suddenly a bad person now? Was it that she was away from the guidance of her parents? Was it just self-preservation because of hard times? At least she was doing well for herself, and would be able to send money home soon. Maybe tomorrow she’d finally sell off the brooch. She just wasn’t sure how much more guilt she could bear to carry. Imagining the karmic retribution that might come from her actions made her stomach hurt even more.
She sprawled herself out as widely as she c…

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 08/10/2026

Fattytober 8/31 - Hey it's the same pose as Elizabeth! tips @ ko-fi.com/zandyzolo

Emma smiled. She was happy to forgive any mistake the luxray before her made. It would only help to build rapport quicker.
“Oh, don’t worry, it was nothing. I was just saying the baking in the display case looks excellent.” She had considered asking him about the posters on the wall recommending purchases, but she realized they probably weren’t his. She’d seen “SCS” branded on every barrel and sack at the poorhouse, and these papers were the same, meaning the luxray had no personal stake in them.
Jack looked at his product selection, which was mostly empty. It was typical for the bakery to sell out by the end of the day, with a few stray goods that he would either throw out or have as a treat.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you very much!” The luxray grinned and hopped around the counter, positioning himself behind it, primed to pick up one of the few baskets with products still in them. “Most of what’s left in there will be stale tomorrow. Would you like to try anything, Miss?”
If she refused, he’d probably insist. His opinion of her would be higher if she went that route. She concocted a response.
“Oh, I couldn’t take advantage of your generosity like that. I don’t want to insult Mr. Neely, either- he’s taken excellent care of me!”
“Oh, but I insist, Miss Emma!”
Emma looked at him slyly. “You wouldn’t want any rumors to start, having over a lady after hours and showering her with gifts! Oh, but Mr. Neely is here, isn’t he? You’ll be able to quell the rumors, won’t you?”
The stoutland nodded.
Permission now granted, Emma looked at the selection. Really, anything baked like this was exciting to her. Even though she’d just complimented the poorhouse’s food, it was only good because it was being compared to starving in Elmsford. Growing up, her father had insisted religiously that the family eat only simple, bland foods. Because of that, she could barely name anything in the cabinet. But, she reasoned, it’d make Mr. Downing happy to think something he had was special to he…

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 07/10/2026

Fattytober 7/31 - This might explain why Elizabeth's weight has suddenly jumped. Tips @ ko-fi.com/zandyzolo

Soon, they came upon the bakery, a 3-story brick building with a plate glass storefront and signboard reading J. Downing & Son. It was not open; an attendant was sweeping the floors. Neely knocked. The gardevoir boy inside looked up, startled.
“Fetch Mr. Downing, boy! Tell him it’s Samuel Neely!” The stoutland shouted through the heavy door. The boy inside dropped the broom, hurrying off into the back and through a doorway. A minute or so passed, after which a larger silhouette entered the room with him. Forward came a Luxray, clearly recognizing the stoutland at the door. He barked something at the gardevoir, who scurried away. He pranced forward to the door, the daylight illuminating his face through the glass as he fidgeted with the hardware to unlock the entrance.
As soon as the deadbolt came loose, the Luxray flung open the double doors, which fortunately missed their snouts.
“Come in! Come in! Will is fetching us some tea. How are you, Sam?”
His eyes switched back and forth between the two, seemingly unable to pick who to focus on. “Who’s this?”
Mr. Neely was much more relaxed than the luxray, stepping inside calmly with a gentle smile. Emma hadn’t expected the energy, but evidently, Mr. Neely was used to it. Emma followed him in as he explained the visit.
“I’m here, actually, to introduce you, Jack. This is Miss Emma Lester. Emma, this is Mr. Jack Downing III.”
The luxray shut the bakery doors, now that his guests were inside. “Charmed. More than charmed!” He said, jamming the deadbolt back in place with a good kick to the door.
“Likewise.” Emma curtsied, adding, “Mr. Neely speaks highly of you, you know.”
The stoutland elaborated. “She’s been staying at the poorhouse with me.”
Jack looked at him, then at her, and then burst into hearty laughter. “The poorhouse? Sam, I didn’t know you gave them gold jewelry! Maybe I ought to stay a night! Ha!” The luxray sized up the girl in front of him. The rest of her clothes were plain, but he found it hard to beli…

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 06/10/2026

Fattytober 6/31 - Emma gets a good look at Foster, for some interesting observations. Elizabeth flashback tomorrow - Tips @ ko-fi.com/zandyzolo

Despite her nighttime aspirations to return or sell the valuable gold and opal brooch, Emma held onto it. For whatever reason, during the day when the shops were open, it seemed to her each time she picked it up, her best option was to just wear it. At some point, maybe someone would identify to her where Elizabeth could be found, or point her in the direction of an honest buyer. Until then, she was quite busy establishing herself socially. There was lots of work to do, and Mr. Neely, as she found was his name, didn’t seem to be in a hurry to send her out of the poorhouse.
She had made a point to be particularly sweet to him, which earned her some favors, usually in the form of extra rations, but that endearment might have been why he had yet to take her to the bakery. With the special treatment and extra things he gave her, she aimed to establish her reputation by giving them away to others. It was oddly difficult to get anyone to accept anything from her, particularly with food. Things were almost always pushed right back towards her, with an insistence that she deserved it or needed it more. Maybe it was true, she was still rather thin. In any case, it was her gesture of kindness that mattered for her reputation, not the acceptance on the part of her beneficiaries. She was perfectly happy to keep her food. After 6 days, Mr. Neely finally pulled her aside to take her to Downing’s bakery.
Emma had not gotten much opportunity to look at Foster so far, since she had arrived by night, and had yet to leave the poorhouse, which was situated at the edge of town, on its own farm. The homes she could see from the poorhouse were modest, but new. Following the main road into town, the homes increased in size as the streets began branching, the dirt roads tracing out a grid. Eventually the gaps between buildings closed, and she found herself in a city much grander than she had imagined.
On one side, the street grid sloped down to a river, mills of various sizes blocking any…

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 06/10/2026

Ok so I misjudged how big people were gonna make Elizabeth so soon (I just need her to not be immobile for like one more week guys please have mercy), and I don't want her to be offscreen for all the fun sizes, so here's a bonus pinup (tysm for the support!!)

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 05/10/2026

Fattytober 5/31. Emma finally gets out of her stuffy victorian outfit to collect her thoughts, which don't seem to match her actions just prior. Maybe tomorrow, she'll be able to better embody her morals? tips @ ko-fi.com/zandyzolo

In short order, the stoutland realized he knew just the man to take care of this braixen. It had to be his old friend, Jack.
“You could ask at Downing’s bakery,” he told her. Back then, nobody had fallen for Elizabeth harder than him. That luxray practically spent more time at the Pryor store than his own business. If anyone could see Elizabeth in this girl, it was him. “It’s near the city center, on the corner of Ellis and 5th. I may introduce you tomorrow.”
“Oh, thank you, ever so much!” she sang, clutching her fresh clothes. A bit of flattery went a long way, it seemed. “How could I ever repay your assistance?”
The stoutland shook his head. “Your gratitude is all I ask.” He always said that, but in this case, it was truer than ever. He pushed open the opposite door. “Here are your accommodations. You’ll be awoken at 4:30 to help us prepare breakfast.”
Emma surveyed the room, stepping inside. It was relatively barren, but serviceable. Three old maids were sound asleep on cots. A fourth, empty one seemed to be for her. The beds were nicer than she’d expected, about as good as her cot back home. One corner of the room was curtained off, presumably the only privacy available. The stoutland behind her began to step away, but stopped, remembering his duties.
“Your name, miss? I must check you in to stay.”
“Emma Lester. Of Elmsford.”
“Thank you, Miss Lester. Good night.”
This time he walked away for good. Emma shut the door gently so as not to wake any of her roommates. She ducked into the curtains, and started dismantling her sullied wardrobe, so that it could be replaced with a clean nightgown. Off came the brooch, neckscarf, skirt, dress, hoop, and petticoat. Her fur was, fortunately, mostly clean. Finally free of those dirty clothes, she allowed herself to relax for a moment; she had made it somewhere safe, somewhere with prospects.
She felt a bit bad for lying about the brooch to the stoutland; it wasn’t like her to do that, and especially not the flattery an…

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 04/10/2026

Fattytober 4/31 - Our first flashback. Both of our girls seem to be hitting the same circuits in our friend's brain here. I wonder why that is..? WG rates have increased! Tips @ ko-fi.com/zandyzolo

The stoutland gazed into the iridescent stone. “I think of a woman I knew, named Elizabeth Pryor. Her wedding brooch was an opal like yours. When I was a youth, before she married, I always thought she was the fairest, most beautiful girl in all of Foster. I took up poetry just to express how perfect she was.” He shook his head, smiling. “The other boys didn’t understand me. I was wasting my time, anyways, her family was in a class of its own. But then, of course, we all went off to war.” His eyes clouded over as he fell deeper into his memories. “I never wanted to go, but a man my age not enlisting was impossible. In the end, it was all such a waste. I watched my brothers die for that horrible institution, just to come back to ruin. I hope that here, I may save some of those families my brothers left behind.” Suddenly, he seemed to snap out of his reminiscence. “Oh, but I prattle on, don’t I? I don’t mean to bore you with stories of the war.”
He was boring her, but only because she wanted to hear about Elizabeth, not the civil war. Perhaps she could convince him to continue? His thoughts weren’t interesting to her, but they were different from what she usually heard. Most former soldiers were bitter about losing, not about what they fought for. She could certainly play to his sense of morality.
“Oh, but you are wise beyond your years.. I could listen to you muse for days”, she lied, smiling broadly. “Have you considered lecturing? And what of Mrs. Pryor, whatever happened to her?” The more she flattered him, she reasoned, the better he’d treat her at the poorhouse.
The stoutland appreciated her compliment. “I’m unworthy of such kind words, miss. Let me tell you while I show you the women’s quarters.” Emma grinned, celebrating the small victory of the night’s rest secured. Anything would be better than her gruelling days-long journey here.
The stoutland stood and signaled her to follow. He could read the braixen’s joy, and it warmed his heart. Too many vagrants…

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 03/10/2026

Fattytober 3/31! Emma arrives safely in Foster, and immediately runs into someone who recognizes the opal. His story about Elizabeth is the picture tomorrow! Tips @ ko-fi.com/zandyzolo

“Good evening, miss.”
The stoutland examined the braixen before him. It was unusual to see a young woman like her at the poorhouse. At her age, she should have plenty of family to care for her, or at least be able to find work somewhere, being young and able-bodied like she was. But, her clothes were dirty and she was visibly sapped of energy, two things that suggested she’d come from some sort of hardship. He wondered where she had been.
“Sir, good evening. I pray you can help me. I come from the west, where the floods swept away our harvest. Is there room for me here?”
Yes, the floods, of course. There must have been many displaced from the valley towns upriver. It was his calling to help those in need, and here was one before him. Except, he realized, one detail about this girl did not make sense. At her chest, as the centerpiece of her outfit, was a beautiful gold and opal brooch, the largest he’d seen since…
Before he could finish his thought, though, the girl spoke again. “I see where your eyes linger. I have only just arrived in Foster, and the journey was long. If you know where I may fetch a fair price for it, I shall go in the morning, and I will remember your kindness today.”
… Since Elizabeth. Oh, how could he forget beautiful, perfect Elizabeth. How he had pined for her.. of course, it could not have been. The son of a common laborer couldn’t marry a daughter of plantation royalty like her.
“You must excuse my absent mind, your brooch has brought back old memories of mine. It reminds me of someone, who I knew years ago.” The stoutland paused, his vision still clouded by the fog of the past. “How did it come into your hands?”
Emma nearly spoke of the manor, but caught herself. While she always preferred to be truthful, this man must have known Elizabeth Pryor. If he knew this was the very same brooch she once wore, would he accuse her of theft? Would it be taken away from her, to be repatriated to the next of kin surviving? Even in the best of circu…

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 02/10/2026

2000 character limit on alt text, which is unfortunately not nearly enough.

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 02/10/2026

Our starting point for Elizabeth! 2/31. I'll track new likes across the most recent 2 posts for weight updates. Tips @ paypal.me/zandyzolo or ko-fi.com/zandyzolo

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 01/10/2026

Here we go! Fattytober, 1/31. Fingers crossed that this is legible.

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 29/09/2026

This year's fattytober project! First part will go live Thursday morning!

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 18/09/2026

full resolution should help with that, this one got jpegged pretty bad, it seems. files.catbox.moe/bou1eu.png

files.catbox.moe

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zandyzolo.bsky.social @zandyzolo.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

For these parts I actually replaced my account name and avatar with hers on all platforms and roleplayed for a few days but I cannot be bothered to do that again lol.