Archive | March 2012

Sum-sum-summary!

Mar27

I must be feeling better…

I opened a Giraffe Call the weekend before last. It turned out to be a tiny one, probably because of the weird format of the call.

For that call, I have written:
Reiassan
Navigating Lannamer (LJ
Sun-on-the-Water (LJ)

Bug/Invasion
Voices (LJ)

The Aunt Family
The Princess and the Hunstsman (LJ)
Big Bad Witch (LJ)
Frog Pancakes (LJ)
Princesses (LJ)

Addergoole
Graduation Plans (LJ)
Yr9
Sequential Vignette (LJ) (Porter & Sylvia)
Trying (LJ) (Arundel/Sylvia Year 8)

Fae Apoc
Reality (LJ)
First Day of Work (LJ)

I have one drabble and about $25 of commissioned words left to write, and then I’ll open up the poll for the continuation and the setting piece.

I’m still cleaning up January and February! For January I wrote:
Dragons Next Door
Human Town (LJ)
An Understanding (LJ)

For February I wrote:
One-Off
Setting the Table (LJ)

Fae Apoc
Shit Keeps Coming (LJ)
Shit, Fan (LJ)
Yr9
Silent Song (LJ) [Porter]
Presently (LJ)
Meta: Poll
Giraffe Poll for February Continuation

And amazingly, stuff NOT for a giraffe Call:
One-off:
Bus Stop (LJ)
Dragons:
Hunting Junie III (LJ
Red Covers (LJ)
Aunt:
Boy Trouble (LJ) [Donor Perk]
Science!
Golden Egg? ()
Tir Na Cali
Chapter 18A (LJ)
Addergoole Yr9:
Pet Wolf (LJ) (Ciara)
Addergoole Yr 14:
Pain in the… (LJ)
Rin:
Packed Up, rewritten (LJ) [BEta]

Meta:
Alder by Post
Issue Three Available (LJ)
Alder by Post: Mailed (LJ)
Gardening (LJ)
(Life in the Country)LJ

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/310214.html. You can comment here or there.

Pain in the… a story of #Addergoole yr14 for @natalief

Mar27

This is from natalief‘s request here. I confess, I didn’t actually answer any of the questions posed in the prompt, but I sort of laid down some foundation stones.

At first, Arianwen thought it was just another migraine.

Dr. Caitrin hadn’t been able to do much for her, any more than the doctors back home had. She’d frowned, run some tests, run some more tests, and sent Ari back to her room with some aspirin and a note for light PE activity on the bad days.

And this was a bad day. First the shit with Gillian in Lit, and then Januarius had followed her back to her room, making some noise about a dance or something. Like she wanted that noise. Like she wanted the flashing lights and people everywhere, up in her face, jostling her. He might as well have been asking her to dress up for a torture session.

This place didn’t understand the meaning of “introvert;” they didn’t understand the meaning of “spoons,” or what it meant to run out of them, and they seemed to think every problem could be solved with judicious application of beer, or possibly whiskey. Januarius had flat-out offered to cook her up some nice pain pills in his dorm room! His roommate, Azra, had been trying to get Ari to agree to a make-over.

It was enough to make a girl hide in her room and never come out, except when she tried that, Luke or Doug came knocking. Doug had, of all of them, been the most helpful, helping her figure out a program of light exercise that seemed to make the migraines last less long and come less often, and helping her come up with work-arounds for the dizziness and nausea. He seemed to have a lot of practice dealing with her symptoms, but he was even more close-mouthed than normal when she asked him why.

Just another oddity in this very odd school. And now this headache, this stabbing through her temples, the pressure in her sinuses, the nausea and spots in her vision. The spots that were dancing in some sort of pattern. That was new. Should she call the doctor? No, of course not, there was no phone.

If she passed out… the thought terrified her. She could hit her head. She could not wake up. They wouldn’t come in her room; it could be Monday before anyone noticed she was missing. By then…

She opened the door. If anyone messed with her, she’d mace them.

Januarius was standing outside her door, hand raised to knock. He frowned at her, suddenly looking worried. “Ari, we’re got to get you to the doctor.”

“Yes, please,” she gasped. The lights out here were horrid, causing stabbing pain right above her nose. She closed her eyes to rub them, and
v
e
r
y
s
l
o
w
l
y
f
e
l
l.

Every clock-tick seemed to last an eternity. Every heartbeat was at least a week apart. She could see the spaces between the seconds, for a brief flash of clarity. Then there was nothing but endless pain.

“I’ve got you,” Januarius whispered, and, blessedly, horribly, terrifyingly, she passed out.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/309947.html. You can comment here or there.

Presently, a story of #Addergoole Yr9 for the (February) Giraffe Call (@Rix_scaedu)

Mar27

For [profile] rix_scaedu‘s commissioned prompt – more of “Birthday Present,” from the December Giraffe Call.

Addergoole has a landing page here

Noam has a sketch here.

He didn’t have any orders! There was nothing holding him from saying anything he wanted! Noam opened his mouth to tell Brenna exactly what he thought of “fun.”

Except, of course, as far as he knew, there wasn’t any way out of Belonging to someone except having them let you go. He closed his mouth again. Pissing her off was probably not what he wanted to do. He tugged at the ribbons a little more, though, just on principle.

Brenna’s face fell. “You don’t want to be here.”

Shit. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re trying to get away.”

“I’m trying to get untied. Trying to get away would involve more backing towards the door and fumbling with the doorknob.” He gave her his best smile. “I’m not going to lie to you, this wasn’t my idea. Hera caught me in the halls. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think dating you would be a good idea.” Dating, please. Noam was pretty sure he could handle dating.

She touched his pectoral lightly, as if worried it would burn her. When it didn’t light on fire, she set her hand, palm-down, across his chest. “You never said anything.”

“Neither did you. I figured you weren’t interested.”

“Oh.” She looked down at their toes. At her Masked toes, he noted, even here in her bedroom, and his still in shoes. “Oh.”

He kept smiling at her. Smiling seemed good. Her touch seemed very good. “You know, if you let me go, we could date. I’d like that a lot.”

She frowned. “You’re just saying that so I’ll let you go.”

“Well, I’m hoping you’ll let me go, yeah, but I would like dating you, too.” Gods, please?

She bit her lip and shook her head. She hadn’t Masked her teeth. They were very very sharp. “Nobody stays around me long if they have a choice.”

She wasn’t going to let him go, was she? He might as well make the best of it. Noam smiled for her, hoping it wasn’t too fake-looking (Again. He was going to have to spend XP on charisma and bluffing). “Well, I’m yours.”

“You are,” she agreed. “For a while, at least. It’s not forever.”

“Well, if I had to be Owned by someone…” which he’d been doing such a good job of avoiding, thank you, “I’m glad it was you.” He gave the ribbon around his wrists a little tug. He could probably undo it now. Maybe he should wait and let her untie it instead. “What do you think about it?”

“I think…” She looked him over hesitantly, sidelong, uncertainly. “I think you’re mine?”

“Okay.” It was a starting point, at least. “And what do you want to do with me?”

She tugged on the ribbon around his neck. “Unwrap you…” Her shy look up at him was heart-rending. “If that’s okay?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/309630.html. You can comment here or there.

Ciara: Pet Wolf

Mar26

After Wolf in Hand (LJ)

Ciara had been asleep in the infirmary for a few hours when a noise
woke her. The doctor had been able to put her back together “good as
new,” but suggested firmly that an overnight stay would be good for
her, “just in case.” Ciara had agreed – there was really no point in
trying to argue with Dr. Caitrin anyway, certainly not with Luke
hovering over her – and had succumbed, once again, to unconsciousness.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Luke’s voice was quiet in the dark of the
mid-night clinic.

“She told me I could.” Amadeus was trying to keep his voice down, but
he had less practice than Luke. “Here, on page two.”

“She did,” Luke confirmed, a moment later. “But that doesn’t explain
why you’re here.”

There was a moment of silence, and then she heard her new Kept say, rather unwillingly, “I want to see if she’s okay.”

“You broke her leg, her wrist, and at least five of her ribs, as well as puncturing a couple of her internal organs. I wouldn’t say she’s okay.”

“She challenged me!” he flared, and then, quieter, “Dr. Caitrin fixed her, right?”

“She did,” Luke murmured. “Amadeus…” his voice dropped down lower than Ciara could hear.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.” From the sounds of it, Luke was pleased with himself. “You can see her now.”

Ciara kept her eyes closed and her breathing even as Amadeus walked in, although she couldn’t keep her heart from pounding a bit. What had her orders said about this? Shit, did she want him this close to her?

Little late for that, she told herself sternly, as his hand rested on her arm. “Ciara?” he whispered loudly. Then, when she “didn’t wake,” “Damnit, Ciara.”

She opened her eyes, glad it didn’t hurt to so, and stared at him. He stared back at her, angry. “You’re fine, right?”

She couldn’t help a little smile. “You’re all packed up?”

“Couldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Damnit, those orders…!”

Her smile was growing a bit. Irritating him didn’t seem wise, but, then again, he was hers now. “I didn’t expect you to be happy if I won. It seemed safer to be thorough.”

“If.” He was only getting angrier. “Are you telling me you weren’t sure? Why would you risk everything like that?”

“Why did you?”

He grumbled incoherently for a moment. “I didn’t think I could lose.”

“I was betting on that,” she admitted. Quieter, she added, “I’m told that Kept are happier if there’s physical contact.”

He leered, but his heart wasn’t in it. “This is what it takes to get into your bed?”

“Yes.” The bed was narrow, but wide enough. She scooted to one side, and patted the space next to her. “I didn’t want to be your pet, Amadeus.”

“So you arranged things so I’d be yours.” He sat down on the bed gingerly.

“Well.” She took his hand in her own. “From what I’m told, there’s some negotiation as to the exact role a Kept plays.”

“Meaning what?” He didn’t snatch his hand away, but his shoulders were still stiff and angry.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/308543.html. You can comment here or there.

Red Covers, (A story of Dragons Next Door) (@rix_Scaedu)

Mar26

After this story, this story, this story, and this story (LJ), part four of three as part of a fixtion exchange with Rix_Scaedu

Thanks to Kiss of Judas for the names!

“Shit.” They’d been just about ready to grab the kid when all their equipment died. For the third day in a row. “Shit, shit, shit.” Ryan pulled out his earbud and threw it to the ground. “If I didn’t know better, I…”

“Don’t,” Chelsea cut him off. The rookie glared at her.

“Come on, Taylor, we’re hunting a fracking baby singularity! You can’t tell me not to be superstitious at a time like this!”

“Exactly.” She pulled out her own earpiece. “Come on, we’re walking back to base. Look, Moore. We’re hunting a baby singularity. That means that we’re out of the main guide book and into the red cover.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning don’t know better. If your gut or your superstition tells you it’s probably a flying tribble, then look for flying tribbles. The target has harpies providing air support, Moore. Harpies. Anything. Is. Possible.”

“Is that the first page in the red-cover guidebook?”

“Rookie, that’s the only page in the red cover.” She grinned at him and got out of the car. “Anything can happen. Your granny was right. Watch out for flying tribbles and talking moose.”

“And wear comfortable shoes,” Ryan added, looking down at his very-practical black boots. “Is there any proof against… whatever keeps happening?”

“Depends on what it is that’s happening. If it’s a conventional EMP, turning everything off or using old-style tech would do it, although we’d stand out like a sore thumb in a steam-powered car. But what were you saying, before I cut you off?”

He shot her a look. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was gremlins. My grandfather was a World War fighter pilot,” he added, his hackles visibly rising. “He talked about gremlins all the time.”

“Gremlins.” Chelsea flipped back in her mental creature list. Goblins, greymalkin… gremlins. “You know, that would make sense. I wonder how they got them to work for them?”

“Sheer charisma?” Ryan glared sourly at the ground. “You’ve met the pair. They don’t seem all that charming, but they’ve got all the aberrant races eating out of their hands – in some cases, I’d be willing to bet it’s literal.”

“Well, they’re singularities. You can’t expect a singularity to act by normal human rules.” As nice as it would be, since most singularities looked and acted like humans on the surface.

“Man, she really looks like a kid.” He frowned, suddenly worried. “You’re sure she’s really an anomalous individual?”

This happened to all rookies at least once. Some of them got over it. Others washed out. “Ryan, look. You gotta just put on your green lenses and look at the flows. Don’t look at the kid-shape in front of you. That way lies madness.”

“Right.” The rookie’s shoulders slumped. “It’s just…”

“Yeah, I know, kid. They look so cute. It’s like a baby harpy, though: it looks cute, right up until it’s ripping your intestines out. Stay strong, man.” She patted his shoulder. “You’ll see, once we get this one contained. Then her true colors will come out.”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/319698.html

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Setting the Table

Mar26

For Friendly Anon’s commissioned continuation of Tasting (LJ)

Liza’s restaurant opened on the shore of Cayuga Lake, in a prime spot she’d gotten by luck and networking.

She opened on the first day of Spring, an unseasonably warm day with the sun shining brightly off the deep blue water and a few daffodils already in bloom. Her tables were dressed with crocuses and spring greens, and she garnished her plates with little bouquets of the first chives of spring.

And with every dinner that first day came a free glass of her prize wine, served by a sommelier who was grinning from ear to ear, pouring with perfect grace and managing to chat up the diners through that face-stretching smile.

The restaurant’s first night was a smashing success for both of them. Lindon went home pleased. If he could manage to keep the Downside Up Vineyard at the forefront of people’s attentions, all of the money they’d begged, borrowed, or flat-out stolen could be repaid with interest, and their father’s dream would finally be realized.

If he could make the Sunny Side Restaurant succeed, he could keep Downside Up in people’s view long enough to reach their goals. So Sunny Side – and Liza – had to succeed. He could do that.

He made some phone calls. He didn’t really have any favors left to call in, but he could probably borrow from the interest a bit…

Sunny Side’s first week was amazingly successful, almost too much so. Liza found herself running constantly, on the phone constantly, in the kitchen constantly. “I need a clone,” she complained, three hours after closing Friday night, flopped against the deck railing. “Or an extra set of hands. I never imagined that it would be this busy our first week.”

The sommelier winced. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You’re doing a great job with the wine. I don’t suppose you know a back-up sous-chef, do you? Or someone who could clone me? Or another greens vendor?”

“Well….”

“God, if you know someone who can clone me, I’ll kiss you.”

The sommelier froze. He hadn’t thought about it before, but the idea of a kiss from Liza suddenly seemed like a very nice idea. “Unfortunately, that’s the one I don’t know. But I can get you a back-up greens vendor, and, if you’ll trust me in your kitchen, I’m a pretty good sous-chef myself. I’ll call my brother in to pour wine for you.”

She blinked at him. “You’d do that for me?”

“I would do more than that for you, Liza. I want Sunny Side to succeed as much as you do.” Maybe more. They were already beginning to get the orders they needed to pay back their debts. If this kept up, they’d actually get what they wanted.

And if Liza was happy… The sommelier blinked at the idea. Liza was blinking at him, too.

“You know,” she murmured, her words a little slurred from wine and exhaustion, “you have beautiful eyes.”

Now was not the time. He picked her up, lifting her easily. “You need some sleep… boss. We can talk about when I start cooking for you tomorrow.”

“And maybe that kiss.”

“And maybe that kiss.” And maybe something, one thing in his life not about their father’s dreams.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/308221.html. You can comment here or there.

Bus Stop

Mar26

The first day of school, Jack always stopped the bus by the cemetery, put out the stop sign and opened the door, like he did for every kid.

The younger kids who’d seen this before giggled nervously. The older kids rolled their eyes. The new kids – someone always asked.

“What are you doing, Mr. Bus Driver?”

“Picking up John Karpen.”

“But nobody got on.”

“Just because you can’t see him, doesn’t mean he’s not here. John Karpen died twenty years ago, on his way to school. He’s buried here. His ghost sits right there.” The front left seat was always empty.

This year, a smartass popped up. There was always one, one of the older kids. “There’s no John Karpen on any headstone in that cemetery. I went looking over the summer.”

Jack turned to look at the smartass, and all the other kids on his bus. “Just because there’s no headstone, doesn’t mean nobody was buried there.”

Every kid on that bus stayed quiet, the rest of the way to school. Even John Karpen, the little brat.

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