Archive | March 2013

Pi No Wri Mo: March has 34 days, right?

Mar25

So!

I was doing really, really well through Saturday.

I ended Saturday with 10221 words total in Other [goal: 10000], finally catching up there.
25759 words in Addergoole [goal: 25,500]
4795 words in Rin/Girey [goal: 4,500]

Then yesterday I had company and wrote a grand total of 585 words, all Other.

So um, At least I’m still caught up in Other? šŸ™‚

Total words as of end of yesterday: 41,360 (goal: 42,000)

How are you guys doing?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/497600.html. You can comment here or there.

Syllabic Sunday: Don’t know much about History…

Mar24

I have these four words in my list, although I cannot find the post in which I posted them:

telyen: story
telnyent: truth-known
telyentozh: myth
telnyenttozh (hunh. I think that should be telenyentozh): history (Wow, that’s clumsy, don’t take that one as canon yet, or the myth one)

Where I wanted to get with this post was BOOKS.

Because the Cālenyena love books. Well, they love the written word. They were fascinated with it when they discovered it. They wrote histories into their tents. Usually biographies. They decorated their clothes with tales of their prowess, and lessons learned. They painted stories on their saddles.

Actual books, paper in a library? That took a little longer.

The word for writing come from the [east-coast-people] word Saayish, and is zhēzhet

The word for book comes from the proto-bitrani word urnia, and is turnē

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/497340.html. You can comment here or there.

Clean, a story for the Giraffe Call (@inventrix)

Mar24

For [personal profile] inventrix‘s prompt

“…and always remember, when fighting the Hosether, is that the only true and clean way to kill is with a blade.”

Instructor Blaias had lost one arm, his off arm, in a battle with the Hosether (or perhaps the Glarth); now he taught the next generation of sword-fighters how to war properly and with honor.

They listened, the young students holding their practice swords, wide-eyed with awe. They listened as he worked them through their exercises. They listened as he showed them how to block properly, so that they would not lose an arm themselves, or a leg or their lives.

They listened as he told them the evil of sorcery. The way that a distance kill was both immoral and illegal, the way that the cleanliness of a blade finished the soul properly, the way that only sword-training gave a truly disciplined soul.

The student Gilcas listened as intently as the rest, learning the way to cut cleanly, for all that he missed his twin.

~

“…and always remember, when fighting the Rodrigerafaus, that the only true and clean way to kill is with a spell.”

Teacher Charis had lost her left eye and half of her nose in a battle with the Glarth (or possibly the Rodrigerafaus); now she taught basic spellcasting for the next generation of fighters.

They listened, the young apprentices. They watched, wide-eyed with awe, as she showed them how you killed someone without ever showing your face. How you took the personal out of the kill, how you took your own soul out of it. They watched as Teacher Charis showed them how to sling a death-spell, so that the death was quick and perfect.

They took it all in, as she showed them how a sword-death was both illegal and immoral, how the blade severed the soul from the body, so that it entered the afterworld bereft of its needed skin, the way that the death-spell finished the body and soul in one swift shot, the way that only spell-casting created a truly disciplined soul.

The student Sashlie listened intently, practicing the motions and whispering the words to herself, learning a clean death, for all that she missed her twin.

~

There was never a time when the Rodrigerafaus were not at war with the Glarth, or the Glarth at war with the Hosether, the Hosether with the Rodrigerafaus. There was never a time when those with swords were not up against those who slung death-spells.

“When you fight, the only true and clean way…” Gilcas, his sword hilt-deep in a Glarth soldier, thought the blood splatter across his face was anything but clean. He muttered a spell he wasn’t supposed to know, and watched the soul separate and fly away. There were a lot of souls leaving today, and the sun hadn’t reached its zenith yet.

“…make the death clean and perfect.” Sashlie used a forbidden knife-block to push a soldier off of her, and pressed a death spell into another soldier’s face. The look on his face was in no way impersonal; the feel of his death flooding back over the spell was intimate and dirty.

She watched the way the body twisted into the heavens. There were a lot of deaths for the gods today, and the sun was barely climbing up its stairs.

The two, half a battle-field apart, took it all in, using the motions they’d been taught and the lessons they had learn, for all that they missed their twin, for all that the cleanest of deaths left them feeling filthy inside.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/496898.html. You can comment here or there.

I.D., a continuation of FaeApoc/Addergoole @kissofjudas

Mar24

After Convincing, after Identity.

ā€œTell me who you truly are, and give us reason to believe it.ā€

Adder panicked.

Stuck in the man’s gaze, he had no choice but to answer. But what could he say?

“I’m Adder, sh’Hana, cy’Caitrin, called the Link. I was oro’Orlaith in my first year of school. We joked about it being oro-oro, remember, Ora? And when I Named Hunter, when I named my son,” he was freaking out and he didn’t know how to stop, damnit, the first time he met his son and he was hyperventilating. “When I named Hunter, you looked at me, and rolled your eyes, and you said, ‘why, Addy?’ and all I could say was ‘he’s going to need both halves to get through it.’ Is that enough, Ora, please?”

He dropped his Mask, holding out his hands with the tiny pointed fangs under the nails. “And you know I never show anyone these.”

“Careful with those, Adder.” Her voice was level and unimpressed. “Silas, I’m convinced. This is the boy I Kept my last year of school.”

Adder held his breath. There was no mistaking the fact that she was deferring decision to this… this man. This man who had taken his spot, his Ora, his son.

He needed them. Adder waited on judgement.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/496808.html. You can comment here or there.

Short/Cut, a story of the Faerie Apocalypse, for the Giraffe Call

Mar23

For [personal profile] clare_dragonfly‘s prompt. Around Addergoole Year 33

“Ladies.”

Griselda and Solange shared a look. They turned, two petite women on two giant motorcycles, to look at the man standing in the road behind them.

“Zel?” Solanage muttered it out of the side of her mouth.

“Got it.” Griselda murmured under her breath while Solange dismounted and walked forward in short, measured steps. The man was taller than either of them, of course, broad in the shoulders and carrying at least five visible weapons. His skin had the sun-burnt and wrinkled look that means he was trying to ignore what the sun could do to him, and his hair was yellow-white like old paper.

By contrast, neither of the women had a weapon visible; the closest thing was the small jerry-rigged device Griselda was pretending to talk to.

“Can I help you?” Solange was the sweeter-voiced and sweeter-faced of the pair; people smiled at her while they eyed Zelda with distrust.

Like this one, who smiled yellow teeth down at her. “You’re little to be out all alone.”

“We do all right for ourselves. Don’t we, Zel?”

“We travel the world fair enough.” That was her code for fae, with a thrown-in twist for probably up to no good. Solange nodded; she understood.

“We get by.”

“Ah, but you’d get by better with me.”

“We like the team we have.” Zelda had moved up to stand near Solange. Her hands were empty; she’d put the device away. “Why did you call us?”

“It’s a lot easier to chase down prey on foot.” He looked startled, as the first of Zelda’s spells took hold, forcing honesty out of him. Then he grinned. “Done with the foreplay, I suppose.”

His glamour dropped, revealing him for the seven-foot-tall scaly-skinned creep that he really was. Zelda was already in the air, darting in and out of his reach while she threw off bolts of lightning.

That bought Solange the seven seconds she needed. She spat out an under-breath spell and two wooden long-swords leapt into her hands.

She stabbed the creature in the gut and throat while he was reaching for Zelda, giving the fluttering sorceress long enough to dart out of reach and set off another electricity-to-the-brain spell.

Three more stabs and seven more quick lightning bolts later, the creep was down, wrapped in Solange’s chains of hawthorn and rowan. “We heard you were around.” She sat on the man’s chest, wrapping further chains of wood and thorns around his throat. “Funny, people always think short…”

“…and don’t think fae.” Zelda laughed. “This is fun.”


For [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith: I am not good at working descriptions into short stories, but Griselda and Solange are both women of color, and this is the post of the apoc.

For AGRP characters: Griselda is Miryam and Aleron’s daughter.

And Solange had a mention in Calling in the Storm

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/496237.html. You can comment here or there.

More Please: Kit Town Maybe? A continuation of Tir na Cali

Mar23

After Down in Kitty Town and Entering Kitty Town.

The big man was warm. Warmer than a human. Rrrina settled in his arms, since she couldn’t get away anyway, and sniffed him as surreptitiously as she could.

He smelled, under everything, of a bit of musk. Like holding her was making something happen in his pants. Like… She twisted upwards to peer at his face. “Skin job.”

She was quiet about it. She didn’t want to make him angry: he wasn’t wearing a collar and she was; he was bigger than her and clearly stronger; and he smelled like a tom cat that wanted to mate. Every instinct she had told her not to piss him off.

Still, he pulled her tighter against his chest, squishing her in all sorts of nearly-uncomfortable manners. “What did you say, little kitty?” His hiss was warm and angry in her ear.

She peeked up at him. “You’re a skin job.” Her ears were raked back but she kept her voice as quiet as she could. “You look human, but you’re cat.”

“Technically leopard. You’re good, little kitten. You’re going to be really useful.”

“I’m good at being useful.” The well-trained answer slipped out of her mouth, followed by a soft mewl. “But then he sold me. Are you… “

“Shh, little one. We’re almost there. Then you will understand it all.”

Rrrina fell quiet again. He smelled nice. Too nice; her body wanted him, and she wasn’t in a position to do anything at all about it. And then he slipped a hood over her face and not only could she not see anything, she couldn’t even smell anything.

She started with “hey!” and ended with a long hiss. The hood stank of menthol, like a cough drop factory. “Hey,” she repeated.

“Shh. This part’s a secret, little kitten.” He pulled the hood tight, and she could no longer hear much of anything, either. It sounded like he said “sit tight.”

Not that she had any choice.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/496067.html. You can comment here or there.

Giraffe Call Open: Swords and Sorcery!

Mar23

It’s time for a Giraffe Call, fine gentlefolk!

The theme of today’s Giraffe Call is Swords and Sorcery, sword-fighters and sorceresses.

(There’ve been a lot of calls for this sort of story, lately, and I’m out of ideas)

Leave one or many prompts, and I will write (over the next month) at least one microfic (150-500 words) to each prompter (prompts may be combined)

Prompts can be related to one of my extant settings (See my landing page-landing page) or they can be for something completely different.

Prompting is free! But Donations are always welcome.

For each $5 you donate, I will write an additional 500 words to the prompt(s) of your choice.

Donations are earmarked towards our foyer right now: It’s currently stripped-down drywall. I want to make a new bench, a storage area, and a slippers-for-guests arrangement. It’s an 8×4 space; budget is $300.

If I get two new prompters or one new donator, I will write a setting piece (setting chosen by poll) explaining something about one of my universes.

At $20 in donations, I will buy the awesome mug featured here, fill it with doctored hot cocoa, and post our recipe for such with a picture.

At $40 in donations, everyone who donated will get an additional microfic written to their prompts. I will choose 1 non-donater at random to receive an additional microfic as well.

At $50, anyone who donated $7.50 or more will have a copy of “Alder by Post” mailed to them if they wish.

At $50, I will buy the hardwood boards for the front of the storage area and post my plans for such.

For every $50 donated, I will do a one-hour livewrite on Etherpad or googledocs during the next month.

At $80, I will write two extra 500-word continuations – chosen by prompters picked by random number generator.

At $100, I’ll buy the accessories for the storage area. And post pictures!

At $120, everyone who donated will get an additional (3rd) microfic written to their prompts. I will choose 2 more non-donaters at random to receive an additional microfic as well.

If we get to $120, I will take suggestions for further incentives!

For more information on Giraffe Calls, see the landing page.


Donate below

I also take payment by Dwolla

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/495696.html. You can comment here or there.

That Girl Thursday: Cody

Mar21

Guest Entry by [personal profile] lilfluff
Cody sh’Leyla cy’Caitin oro’Yolanda

Cody knew exactly who she was at her old school. She was the school freak and a geek. A role she had come to accept and even take some defiant pride in. And when she was informed she would be sent to Addergoole she didn’t expect any of that to change. Then the changes started coming.

Early the first week Doctor Caitrin gave her a name for her body’s physically genderless condition, the first time any of her doctors actually spoke with her regarding it. In the second week the masks came off revealing students and staff with far more blatant differences than hers. Then Hell Night came and terrified her until her Change came upon her. Fortunately as she recovered in Doctor Caitrin’s office she found she now had a protector in the form of her keeper and a whole suite full of new friends.

Cody was only a bare fraction over five feet tall short before her Change. Her lack of height and androgynous features often meant she was mistakenly thought younger than she actually was. Which while annoying she found preferable to when people thought she was a boy. That wasn’t helped by her preference for dressing in overalls and wearing unflashy jewelry. She has tried growing her chestnut colored hair longer but has found that no matter what she does it soon looks messy and at least when it’s short it just looks tousled.

After her Change she lost two inches of height and while furless she has taken on an almost elfin-feline appearance. The pupils of her gray eyes are no longer circular, long whiskers have sprouted from her face, and her ears grew longer and mobile. The only thing missing to complete the appearance would be a tail. But given her lack of fur she soon decided that was a good thing. While her Change didn’t bring claws or other fearsome features she did find herself with better hearing and balance, puzzling new sensations from her whiskers, and a powerful leaping ability. She just needs to make sure not to jump headfirst into walls like she did when she first changed.

She has yet to identify an innate ability. She is capable of bringing extreme focus to tasks. To the point of shutting out the outside world. But, she was prone to doing this long Changing or even arriving at Addergoole. With little social life she would often turn this focus onto her studies working at times several months ahead, leading to the grades that she thought were the reason she’d been granted a full ride scholarship for Addergoole.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/495445.html. You can comment here or there.