Archive | November 2011

Oh, Shit, a story of #Addergoole, for the Giraffe Call

To [personal profile] lilfluff‘s commissioned prompt – a bit more of Uh-Oh ().

Raylan is the brother of a character in Addergoole.

“None of that,” she smiled. “Stay quiet, and this won’t hurt much.”

Raylan stared at the crazy woman for a moment. Was she kidding? Was she just really insane? Batshit crazy, Dad would say, when he thought Ray wasn’t listening. Often about Mom, who Ray had never met. “Fuck that,” he muttered, and then, louder, as loud as he could, “fuck that! Fuck you! Help! Help! FIRE!” He struggled, even though he was floating in mid-air and wasn’t sure what good it would do, flailing with all four limbs, kicking and punching and shouting as loudly as he could.

He mostly had his eyes scrunched up, but when he peeked, the woman looked more than a little bit affronted. Good! He kicked again, and shouted, a little louder, “FIRE!!” as his foot actually connected with her shin, and then with her knee. “Damnit, someone!”

She muttered something else under her breath, and suddenly, he couldn’t hear his own voice. He kept shouting, trying not to panic, but it was hard when he was floating, either voiceless or deaf, in mid-air. He kicked harder, instead, connecting with her hip this time.

“That’s enough of that,” she snapped, reassuring him that he hadn’t lost his hearing. He kicked all the harder, until she backed away from him prudently. “Now,” she glared at him. “I did say something about it not hurting much, didn’t I?”

Raylan fell still, looking at her face. He hoped someone had heard him. He hoped they were coming soon.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/184764.html. You can comment here or there.

Safe

For [profile] rix_scaedu‘s commissioned prompt for more of the Baram-and-his-house-elves story.

Baram and his family appear in:
Monster (LJ)
Memories (LJ)
One Sharp Mother (LJ)
The Life you Make (LJ)

Addergoole has a landing page here and on LJ

Jaelie looked at her new possession, back at her employer, and over to her child, before going through that cycle a second time, this time smiling. “All right,” she told her new Kept, “you heard the man. Viatrix?”

“Already on it.” Indeed, she was nearly to Baram already. “Shaina,” she called out to her oldest daughter, “get those kids inside. All of them, no arguments. Alkyone, can you help Jaelie and her new pet with the walls?”

“Got it,” Aly nodded. “Jae, I’ll get the back. Take a minute, get him up to speed before he puts a spear in one of us, all right? Make him safe.”

“On it.” She pointed at a bench, one she’d made herself, that would now need hours of repair from a stray axe swing. “You. Sit.”

He sat. He didn’t have any choice, but his expression suggested he was still affronted and surprised.

“I’d get used to it, if I were you,” she advised, amused. “You attacked us. You yielded, so you get to live. Doesn’t mean that we’re gonna follow Roberts Rules of Order or the Geneva Convention… you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“I understand the gist of it,” he answered primly. “We have been living here – ah, well, I have been living here; they had been, but they’re dead now – that is, in this country, in this world, for several months. Long enough to learn the language.”

“Good for you,” she sneered. “At least you’d learned enough to say ‘I yield.’”

“It seems to have turned out to be helpful,” he answered, looking a little ashamed. “But I do not know how it is you treat your prisoners here.”

“Well,” she pointed out, “you’re going to find out. And you’re not exactly a prisoner, now are you?”

“No? Err, that is, no.” He blinked. “No, sa’Briar Rose, I am not.” He bent his head in a show of submission.

“Very good. Now. Do not attempt to cause harm to me, the other adults of this family – Alkyone, Viatrix, or our employer, Baram. Do not attempt to cause harm to any child within our property, or to the children of the four adults of this family, ever. The property, for the purposes of your orders, is bordered by the stone wall, where its foundation stands right now, on three sides, the border finished by the line of hawthorn trees in the back. Do not leave said property without the permission of one of the adults here, henceforth defined as Alkyone, Viatrix, Baram, or myself. Do not…” She continued, watching his expression sink into defeat. When she had covered all the basics, she stopped; her throat was getting hoarse. “You can call me Jaelie when the children or others not of this family are around. When it is just the adults, you will call me mistress, or sa’Briar Rose.”

She smiled at him, although she knew it did not look friendly. “You can stand up now.”

He did so, smoothing his ripped and bloody pants. “Those orders were, ah, very thorough,” he coughed, clearly checking his mind to be certain even that complaint was acceptable. Jaelie smirked fiercely at him, and he continued. “Mistress. I was under the impression that you ladies were, mmm, young, due to your speech patterns, despite your fierce and very effective combat techniques.”

“We’re all under fifty,” she agreed. “We just had a very… thorough… education. And we believe in keeping our families safe.”

“I would love to see this school.”

“I’m sure the Director would love to get her hands on you, too. If you’re very good – or very bad – I may take you to meet her.”

“Oh. Good?” he asked weakly.

“Perhaps. Come on inside. You’ll be sleeping in my room. Be nice to my kids.”

“Ah, which of them are your kids?”

“Gerulf and Vondra. They’re the ones with green eyes, if it helps.”

“Green eyes. Right.” He looked so very lost. Jaelie patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“It’s not going to be that bad. We might be half-breed kids, but we know what monsters are, and we aren’t them.” No matter what their employer was billed as.

“Thank you,” he answered. “Ah… did you mention that one of the ‘adults’ here could heal… mistress?”

“Yes.” She patted his shoulder again. “Let’s take care of that before you fall over, pet.”

“Thank you, mistress,” he mumbled.

“I don’t have that much left for him,” Viatrix told them, “but I’ll keep him from falling over for now and take care of the rest of it tomorrow. Bossman was pretty badly ripped up.”

“I saw.” She frowned unhappily. “Did you get him to lay down and rest?”

“Only through threats and bribery.”

“Ah.” She winced on Via’s behalf. “If you need some help with that…?”

“You and Aly take care of the kids – and you’ve got this one to deal with.” She poked their new Kept in the ribs. “Right, you, what’s your Name?”

“Ah.” He squirmed uncomfortably, until Via poked him again. “Sorry. My name is Aloysius, oro’Briar Rose, clearly. I was Named the Pear.”

“Fruit or torture device?”

“You’re all very well-learned for… ah, yes. Both.”

“You might want to think on the merits of a new Name.”

He coughed again. “Well. I suppose, at the moment, that’s up to sa’Briar Rose.”

“Mmn. We’ll worry about that in the morning. I’m going to check on the kids. When Viatrix is done healing you, go into the kitchen and wait for me there. If you know how to do dishes without making a mess, it’s officially now your turn.”

“Yes, mistress.” Looking more than a little overwhelmed, he sat and allowed Via to heal him.

Jaelie headed into the living room, where Alkyone had herded the kids. All the kids. “Is it me?” she asked Jaelie. “Or did our child number double?”

“And then some,” she confirmed. “Kids’ friends from school. All right, kidlings, listen up.” She let her voice rise to drill-sergeant level. “I need you to split into two groups for a moment. If your mother lives here, over here,” she pointed to the left of the room. “If your mother does not live here, over here.” She gestured at the left of the room. “Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” called the boy who had told Gerulf that his dad was awesome. Slowly, the kids organized themselves, with a minimum of pushing and shoving.

“Please, ma’am,” one small kid said quietly. “Don’t make us leave. It’s scary out there, with the men with wings and things.”

“Stop making shit- stuff, sorry – stuff up, Xandra,” a bigger boy scoffed.

“I am not making things ups, Thomas Hidlay!”

Jaelie eyed the girl thoughtfully. “All right, all right. Line up for me, children who are not my offspring. Now. I want each of you to call your parents and let them know where you are. You first, loudmouth.”

“Hey, you can’t…!” another kid complained. “That’s mean.”

“Calling him loudmouth? Of course I can.”

“It’s not nice, though!”

“Well, is he nice?”

“No!” several other kids chimed in, but it was Vondra who protested quietly.

“Mom, he’s my friend.”

“All right, then, my apologies, Thomas. But please do call your parents.” She snuggled Vondra while Thomas made the phone call, mostly out of apology, partially because her babies were okay. She watched the kids on the phone, hiding here because here was safe, and held her own daughter even more tightly. She’d made the right decision, bringing them here. She’d made the right decision, picking a good monster to protect them.

And learning to protect them herself, of course. She glanced at the room where Baram slept, and smiled faintly. They were safe here. Other people’s babies might have to rely on them, too, but that was okay.

One by one, the kids called home. Some of their parents answered, and told them “stay put. Stay put and we’ll come get you.” Jaelie talked to the ones who wanted to talk to her, assuring them their kids were safe, safe, sound, and would be fed and cared for until they could get there. She’d take care of them.

The ones whose mother didn’t answer, whose father didn’t answer, she hugged, and told them the same thing. And “We’ll try again in the morning.”

Because there would be a morning. She looked out the front door one last time, and murmured a Working to the grass to eat what was left of their attackers. They would not have another morning, the interlopers, and Jaelie and her family would. And that was as it should be.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/184507.html. You can comment here or there.

Thursday, Giving Thanks

It’s Thanksgiving here in the States (though I’m really celebrating more on Saturday).

I have tried, in the past to list something I was thankful for every day of November. This never worked really well, since I’m not very good at keeping with such things.

So today, I shall give you thirty things I’m grateful for.

(1) My husband, always my beloved T. Things would not be good nor awesome without him.
(2) My new friends, particularly daHob, Capriox, and Cluudle, with whom this past year would have been a lot harder
(3) My old friends, particularly E.Mc., for never not being there, and Eseme, for reading nigh on everything.
(4) My parents! I know I’m more lucky than many in that regard.
(5) Awesome internet people – artists like Djinni and Meeks and Micah and writers like Ysabet and Rix and Clare and readers like Anke and kelkyag and yes I know all those categories overlap.
(6) A job that pays the bills and leaves us some left over for fun
(7) HOUSE!! House house house house house!
(8) Lovely little car that goes zoom
(9) Triple-A, and not having to use it.
(10) Wildlife, and not hitting any.
(11) Lovely Drakey kitty, and his health. happy fat kitty!
(12) the internet. Seriously. It makes life so much more connected and so much more … well, fun. Easier. Recipes!
(13) Okay, another things gratitude: appliances that work. really work, and well.
( ) Did I mention HOUSE?
(14) Living in a country where one can speak a dissenting opinion legally.
(15) The right to vote.
(16) Having the same rights across the board as the guy next to me, regardless of said guy’s gender, race, or religion.
(17) Awesome internet fiction
(18) Awesome print fiction
(19) (with overlap) Awesome readers, who give support and feedback
(20) The skills and knowledge to do what we need to do with the house.
(21) Parents we can call on when our skills and knowledge fail.
(22) My grandpa’s hammer – and everything that comes along with it.
(23) A good, free education
(24) Public libraries
(25) I live in a lovely town, I really do
(26) I live in a lovely state, too
(27) I’m blessed with people. Just across the board.
(28) My aunt is in remission from cancer. My uncle is in remission.
(29) My father, despite failing to quit smoking, is in good health since his heart attack.
(30) I had a grandmother who loved and cherished me very much while she lived.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/184249.html. You can comment here or there.

Character Development Meme (morning Warmup), Questions 7 and 8

As discussed here and on LJ, I’m going to do this meme for a few characters (I’m rotating seasonal sibs to not totally overwhelm myself).

Questions 5 & 4 are here and on LJ.

7.) Is there one event or happening your character would like to erase from their past? Why?

Spring (well, really, all 4 RoundTree Siblings): Their father’s death. Dad RoundTree died when Mom was pregnant with Spring, leaving Winter as parental figure for his three little sisters (Mom’s not all that good at the parenting thing). The three that remember him miss him horribly, and Spring has always felt his loss.

Conrad: I’d have to say that what happened to Kai with Anatoliy wins here. He’s had a pretty easy life, even up to his first year of Addergoole

Rin: Hrm. This one is harder. Rin’s seen a number of deaths she couldn’t prevent, and handled any number of really unpleasant situations. I don’t think any one of those stands out to her, however.

8.) Day of Favorites! What’s your character’s favorite ice cream flavor? Color? Song? Flower?

Spring: Rocky Road, Green, “Hate Me,” Orchid
Summer: Chocolate, Pink (yes, really), the soundtrack to Rent, roses
Autumn: Maple Walnut, Red, Something loud and full of fiddles, and irises.
Winter: Vanilla, White (or blue), Mozart, Crocuses.

Rin: they don’t have ice cream. Her favorite colors are green and blue. She likes the marching songs, although she’ll rarely admit it, and she loves the snowblossoms that grown on the cold sides of the mountains.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/183716.html. You can comment here or there.

Another Door Opens…

If you haven’t noticed by now, I can be bribed to write more with art. 😉 Icon of Sylvia by @Inventrix.

Story takes place in early Year 8, in the beginning of October. Inspired in part by ‘Trix’s request (Paraphrase: “Porter! Involving Doors!”) and in part by this sketch that inspired Arundel in the first place.

Speaking of arts of this crew (I think they call themselves the WWF. 😉 [personal profile] anke drew a picture of Porter!

Porter could, he’d found, open doors without needing there to actually be a door there. More importantly, when he closed said doors behind him, they went away again as far as anyone else was concerned.

This was turning out to be a very useful skill, because the bullies around here were big, strong, terrifying, and relentless, and the girls, while smaller, less terrifying, and in theory maybe less strong, were no less relentless. He’d spent a lot of time in the last two weeks – ever since Saturday had turned into the Day of Creeps Everywhere and he’d fallen through an accidental door into Dr. Caitrins with a splitting headache and a new tail – making shortcuts everywhere, because the less time he was in the halls, the better.

Today, he had a few minutes of peace. No-one was chasing him. No-one was rubbing up against his leg or trying to pet his tail. So he was practicing a trick he’d thought of but not really wanted to try in a pinch: namely, opening a door in the floor.

The first couple worked okay, opening him out into hallways. With a jump, he could even open a door in the ceiling. The third door he opened, however, left him standing in mid-air over someone’s dorm.

“Hello.” He knew the girl who walked into sight below him, although only in passing. “You are standing on my ceiling.”

“Your ceiling seems to be, ah, where my door was.”

“Aah. Come on in.” She pulled a chair out from under him.

The invisible barrier vanished, and he fell down the twelve feet onto her floor, landing on all fours. “Oof. What the…?” He looked around, then, because she was right there and it was her room, at the girl, hoping she wasn’t another one of the chasing-him-around sort.

She hadn’t tried yet, at least. He’d seen her in the back of a couple of his classes, Sylva, Sylvie… Sylvia. Her Change, if that’s what they were supposed to be calling it, seemed to be otter-y the way his was tiger-y, cute ears and tail and all. She was regarding him with a quizzical head-tilted expression. “That was my Sanctity. Or rather, once I invited you in, that was my Sanctity no longer taking hold.”

“Hey Porto.” Above their heads, Porter’s friend Arundel was peering through Porter’s door, which he hadn’t managed to get closed. “What’re you doing down there? Oh, hi, Sylvia.”

“Hello, Arundel. Come on in.”

“What… ack!” Arundel tumbled face-first through the portal, flailing, arms waving, legs kicking. He landed badly, hitting the edge of the bed with his chin, and struggled to reach his feet as his body seemed to sprawl wrong in all directions. He groaned suddenly, an embarrassed grunt transforming into something pained and unhappy.

“What… shit. Pardon me, miss.” Porter nodded at the girl. “Sorry, Arun, I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Wha-?”

“Abatu unutu!” He had been more than a little thrilled to learn two of his strongest Words were Destroy and Stuff; now he got to make use of it as Arundel’s… wings, yes, those big feathery eagle-looking things were wings – came painfully unfolding out of his back as his shirt disintegrated.

“Interesting.” Sylvia looked between the two of them. “Tell me, have both of you managed to avoid saying words indicating that you belong to, are the property of, or are otherwise chattel of another student?”

Porter blinked. “Uh, yes. Mostly by running, in my case,” he admitted abashedly.

“Not an unwise tactic,” she nodded. “Right then, very good. Eagle, tiger, eagle, tiger… Eenie, meenie, miney, moe…” She grabbed Porter’s tail.

“Hey!” he yelped. She smiled humorlessly and let him go.

“Right. You,” she poked Arundel’s shoulder. “You’re mine. You,” she pointed at Porter, “are in my crew. Anyone messes with any one of us, they mess with all of us, got it?”

“Um. Got it,” he offered uncertainly. “He looks like he needs help…” He remembered how badly his ears had hurt, coming in. Arundel looked like his whole spine was ripping out of his back.

The otter-girl nodded brusquely. “Got it, Arundel?”

“Yours,” he croaked. “Crew. Got it.”

“Shit,” Porter grumbled. He knew that one, and he knew the echo of an elevation-drop air-pressure change that came with it. He’d watched several of their classmates get caught that way, at the Dance, at the so-called Hell Night, and one in a tussle in the halls yesterday. He snarled at Sylvia. “Promise you’ll be good to him.”

“That’s why you’re crew with me now,” she answered placidly, “so you can be certain I am doing well by him. I promise I will do my best to be a good Keeper, which should begin with getting him to Doctor Caitrin. And closing your door into my bedroom, please.”

He glanced up at the doorway as the air rippled and popped around them. “I don’t think I can reach it. We’re going to have to go around.”

“Then let’s hurry. Your friend is hurting.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/183478.html. You can comment here or there.

Character Development Meme (morning Warmup), Questions 5 and 6

As discussed here and on LJ, I’m going to do this meme for a few characters (I’m rotating seasonal sibs to not totally overwhelm myself).

Questions 3 & 4 are here and on LJ.

Questions 7 & 8 are here and on LJ.

5.) What’s your character’s ranking on the KINSEY SCALE?

Spring: Varies depending on her mood
Summer: 3
Autumn: 2
Winter: 0

Conrad: I get the feeling about a low 1.

Rin: I’m really not certain. She’s not a very high sex-drive character any way you slice it, but probably about a 1-2.

6.) Describe your character’s happiest memory.

Winter: Winter being who he is, his happiest memory is one colored bittersweet. He was about five years old, sitting on the dock at the family cottage. The whole family was there: his parents, his mother’s mother, and his two little sisters. Autumn, about three then, was drawing pictures in the puddles of water on the dock. Summer was tiny, under a year old, and Winter was holding her in his arms, as he leaned against his father.

“Hold her carefully,” his dad murmured. “They’re a great responsibility, little sisters, and often great difficulty,” the latter as Summer tried to squirm out of his arms. “You have to know just how much to hold them, and when it’s time to let go.”

Conrad: (can I pick a memory in the future? No? Hrmm.) Everything right now for Conrad is covered by the bliss-bond of making his Keeper happy, but a memory from before the storyline…
… kicking a ball around the Village field with Cassidy and Vlad, the summer between years Four and Five. Just hanging out, not talking about anything all that important.

Rin: In a temple in an ocean-side city, her apprentice as a healer finished, she stood over her first solo patient, a woman of middling years who had injured her leg in a fishing accident. Slowly, patiently, Rin brought forth the energy, and coaxed the body to heal itself.

When she awoke, the grateful fisherwoman, generally an reserved type from an reserved group, hugged Rin tightly against her chest in thanks, and gifted her with a small, delicately-woven pendant of copper replicating a fishing net in miniature. She carries this pendant with her in her packs, only pulling it out for special occasions.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/182912.html. You can comment here or there.

Character Development Meme (morning Warmup), Questions 3 and 4

As discussed here and on LJ, I’m going to do this meme for a few characters (I’m rotating seasonal sibs to not totally overwhelm myself).

Feel free to suggest another character, and I’ll work through them in rotation.

Question 2 here and on LJ.

Questions 5 and 6 are here and here on LJ.

3.) Name one scar your character has, and tell us where it came from. If they don’t have any, is there a reason?

Summer: Summer had an active, wild childhood, and, as such, has more than a few of those childhood scraped-knee and cut-hand scars. More notable is one across her collarbone, gotten when a piece of a set fell on her, nail-side down.

Conrad: most noticeable on Conrad is his nose, which was broken and not healed properly in his teens (soccer accident). He’s gotten in a few training scrapes since coming to Addergoole, but those heal scarless.

Rin: Rin is a healer. She bears no scars on her skin because she’s healed them all.

4.) How vain is your character? Do they find themselves attractive?

Autumn: Autumn is not a narcissist, but she’s a flirt, in a profession that encourages flirtation, and in subcultures that really encourage flirtation. She knows what she’d got, and she likes showing it off; she dresses to that end most of the time. Although she will not sacrifice practicality for vanity, she also won’t sacrifice vanity for practicality.

Conrad isn’t particularly vain. He knows he’s decent-looking, but in Addergoole that’s mostly a function of not getting a bad Change. No-one there is all that unattractive on base.

He attributes his skill with girls – Kai is certainly not his first girlfriend – more to social finesse and less to his appearance.

Rin: Rin has her mother’s nose, her grandmother’s hair, and a family chin. She exemplifies the royal phenotype, looking like a Callanthe and a royal. On some level, she knows this makes her look attractive, especially to other Callanthe, and she’s spent enough time in Bithrain to know that, there, this makes her exotic.

She takes enough care of her appearance to not let down what people expect of her as a healer, as a member of the army, or as a princess, depending on what role she’s filling at the moment.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/182359.html. You can comment here or there.

Monday, monday, Monday!

Woosh! I have paint everywhere!

This weekend, I finally got out the paint sprayer and started painting the bedroom.

This thing takes a little more getting used to than I’d hoped, but it seems to work very nicely. Next time? Wearing a face mask.

We also: trimmed the lilac making horror-movie noises against the gutter, cut apart an old, broken kids’ pool, T. planted some garlic, I painted some window trim, and bought cider without, for the first time this year, getting lost.

Oh, and made butternut-bread-casserole for dinner. Om nom nom nom!

Painting the bedroom makes me feel like we’re moving along somewhere on this thing. T’s gotten a lot done – this weekend he also cleaned up the pantry/basement stairwell quite a bit, pulling out 2 dozen old canning jars, too, from the crawl space, and over the week he discovered that our dining room is painted over old wallpaper (ack).

All in all, a very nice weekend.

How have you all been?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/181879.html. You can comment here or there.

A Vignette of #Addergoole Yr9 for @inventrix’s art and @dahob’s ideas

@Inventrix posted these two sketches:
of Porter
of Sylvia; Porter, Sylvia, and Arundel are a crew of upperclassmen in Year 9; Porter and Arudel we met in Timora’s Hell Night stories.

This scene takes place very very early in the school year, possibly the day before the new students get back.

“Um, Sylvia?” Porter stuck his head through the suite door – the actual door, for once.

“What is it?” Normally, the boys didn’t bother her when she was watching TV; they knew it made her uncomfortable, so left her that hour in the common room by herself. But Porter’s ears were a-kilter and his tail was swishing uncertainly, so she muted the TV and let him talk.

He got himself all the way in the room and the door closed before he continued. “Ghita challenged Arun.”

“What?” She blinked. “Margherita? Our Arundel? Whatever for? She’s barely back from summer vacation; they haven’t had time for a disagreement.”

“I – Arun doesn’t want to talk about it, he’s getting all the way he does, you know, with his wings over his ears?”

Sylvia couldn’t help but chuckle. Both of the boys in her crew could be toddlers when it suited them. “I do know. So there’s something outstanding there, and she’s challenged him over it. I assume the terms aren’t anything horrible, right?”

“Right,” he gestured impatiently. “It’s one of those favor-and-get-to-say-you-won sort of deals, not some sort of really bad one where he could end up Belonging to her or Owning her. I’m pretty sure neither of them are willing to risk that.”

“Arundel’s a smart boy,” she reassured him, “and my impression of Margherita was that she was bright, too. Of course she’s not going to set terms she won’t want to follow through with. It’s fine, Porter. People challenge people, whatever the reasons.”

“I know, I know.” He flopped down unhappily on the floor. “But I think she’s going to cheat. And I think he’s going to get really badly hurt if she does.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “Well, that’s another matter.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/181528.html. You can comment here or there.