Archive | January 2015

Turn Left Story One: Baram’s Elves

Jan12

From the Turn Left meme here: http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/1005760.html; off of this story: http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/306171.html in the Baram’s Elves sequence, an AU.

When the first creature broke through – fell through, really; her hedges were hungry and she’d taken lessons from Valentina as well as Valerian – Jaelie speared him to the ground. “Submit,” she demanded.

He coughed blood on her shoes, blood that slowly began eating at the leather of her boots. “Bitch,” he spat out. “I submit.”

Viatrix’s blade hesitated.

“You’re mine, then.” Jaelie twisted the spear. “Say it.”

He spat again, the acid in his blood beginning to dissolve her pants. “Yours, fine.”

Once he’d fallen, the battle went quickly. The rest either submitted or died, leaving Via, Aly, and Jaelie with four angry returned-God Kept between them.

After the third act of near-disobedient, nearly-deadly sabotage in a week, Baram – who had been grumblingly patient – put his foot down. “No Kept in the house. No other men in the house.”

The women took stock. Something was going to have to change. “I’ll go.” Jaelie stepped forward. “I’ll… do something with them, and come back.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/884379.html. You can comment here or there.

A New Year, some new goals (a blog post)

Jan11

2014 didn’t exactly suck for me, it just – happened. I seem to have lost large parts of it, didn’t get a lot done until the last three months, and gained a bunch of weight.

But new years are a lovely time to start fresh. So this year, I’m going to try to be more aware of lost time and of lost plans.

Of course, as I’m writing this, I’m sick as a dog, and my only plans for today are to rest, drink lots of fluids, and take a short walk out to the barn for some firewood.

But starting as soon as I’m better!

Writing:
I’d like to submit 4 stories for publication/month.
I’d like to earn $200 from writing (donations, commissions, publications, etc)/month or $2400/year: this is an arbitrary figure picked because it’s possibly-doable while being a challenge.

I want to finish a rough draft of Rin/Girey.
I want to do the first Addergoole Kickstarter
I want to draft one other novel.

Health
I would like to lose 3 pants sizes in my preferred brand/type jeans. That’s about 14lbs/pants size for me, or 42 lbs over the next year.

I’d like to exercise at least 2x every week for at least 30 minutes

Other
I’d like to have an updated author page done by end of February.
I’d like to make significant progress (finish a stage) on a house/home project for three weekends out of every four I’m home.

Very Other
I’d like to have a process in place for handling failure that is more adaptive than “man, I suck,” panicking and moping.
I would like to leave more detailed and helpful comments on others’ writing.

I think that’s enough 🙂

What about you? Any changes for the New Year?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/884171.html. You can comment here or there.

Thimbleful Thursday – Mad in Atter, a story of Foedus Planaterum

Jan11

This belongs to the Foedus Planetarum setting and the Tod’cxeckz’ri Paper Story.

Previous in Story

“I suppose we could try my father,” Yira Trembane had suggested. They needed an acceptable relation to void their contract, and visiting Yira’s mother had turned out messily-at-best. “It’s just… he lives on Korsakoff. I don’t think he’s going to be much help.”

“I visited Korsakoff once.” Jahnan wince. “It was…”

“Memorable?” Yira’s teasing come out rough-voiced.

“Ouch. Yeah. Something like that.” She leaned back in the seat of the Maru and closed her eyes. “I landed…”


    Nehanani Jahnan set down her little star-bouncer on the neglected landing field of Atter, Korsakoff’s largest city. There were only two other ships in the field – a Foedus bureaucracy ship, probably census or taxes, and her quarry. There was dust over her quarry’s ship, but Korsakoff was known for its heavy dust that coated everything – he could have been here a day or a week.

    She fitted a filtered mask over her face. Korsakoff’s air wasn’t exactly poisonous – but it wasn’t any fun, either. Not if you wanted to leave anytime soon. Chances were, her target was just down the road. Unless he’d thought to mask, hoping she’d – ha – forget.

    She found Fess Entiror in a bar, just inside the city limits of Atter. The bartender aimed a desultory wave her way, and passed her a drink. Jahnan paid and headed for the table where Fess Entiror was already talking.

    “…and so I headed into New Malibu…”

      And there, in the middle of the town, there was this statute, this giant thing, larger than life, of a naked woman, with her hand… well, there’s ladies present. And there, sitting at the base of the statue, with his hand… sorry, ladies, well, there was my target.

      And the moral of the story is, never go into New Malibu drunk, or you’re just going to end up a sitting duck for whoever’s hunting you.”

    There was no point in talking to him; he had the glazed eyes and rambling speech patterns of someone already suffering from Korsakoff Syndrome. Jahnan couldn’t resist, anyway, as she slapped the cuffs on him.

    “And the moral of the story is, never go to Korsakoff when you’re on the run from the law, or you’re going to end up mad-ass in Atter, waiting for whoever’s hunting you.”

Yira coughed. “Or, well. Maybe we could just visit my stepfather, the first one.”
~

To January 8th’s Thimbleful Thursday prompt, approx. 400 words

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/883945.html. You can comment here or there.

The Bishop Speaks, a story of FairyTown

Jan8

Written to flofx‘s commissioned prompt: “Bishop Macnamilla says ‘The elders did not listen to me. They were squeamish’ in Faries in the Church. Just what happened between Macnamilla and the elders? How much did he tell them of what he wanted to do?”

Fairy Town has a landing page here.. This story is set a few decades or more before the “current” storyline.

Bishop Tanner studied the young priest standing in front of him. “Father Macnamilla. I see you are visiting us yet again.”

The others on the diocese’s council of elders shifted uncomfortably. Bishop Tanner didn’t fault them for that – Father Macnamilla brought an aura of discomfort with him. But they needed to remain firm and in control, or the hot-headed priest would be causing them more than just discomfort.

“I will continue to visit you until you listen to reason. I will continue to visit you until this diocese does what needs to be done.”

Bishop Tanner cleared his throat. “I’m sure that it appears to you…”

“No, no, Bishop Tanner. This is not a matter of what ‘appears to me.’ This is a matter of the holy writs and the scriptures of the Blessed Oren. This is a matter of what must be.“

The Father Above save him from zealots with books. “Ah, but the Gospel of the Blessed Leah-“

“Leah was a heretic and no fit prophet!” The young priest’s shout made the rafters shake and the elders flinch. “Don’t you see – can’t you see? Are you truly so blinded by the taint of this place-“

Bishop Tanner cleared his throat again, far more loudly this time. If Father Macnamilla kept going on about taint, Elder Judith was going to say something, and if she said something –

Well, if she said what he feared, then they would all be in a world of hurt. “Please tell me, Father Macnamilla, your plan, then.”

The priest was only too glad to comply. “The consecrated land of all our churches in this Diocese had been filled with the -” he hesitated, eyed the Bishop, and chose another word “-the unique air of this city, but that air belongs… belongs in places that are not the church. Fairies…” he spoke as if navigating his way through a mindfield, suddenly far quieter “…they do not belong in churches.”

Elder Judith might disagree, but Elder Judith had always understood her place on the Elder Council was on sufferance.

“Fairies do not believe in churches.” Bishop Tanner nodded. “If one ignores the Gospel of the Blessed Leah, this is truth as the Church acknowledges it, yes.”

“And, if the Church is going to remain ascendant and pure, we must purge the fairies from our churches.”

Bishop Tanner hid a wince. This was not the conversation to have in such a forum. “There are doctrines for this, yes.”

“Then why is the Church doing nothing?” Father Macnamilla slammed his fist into his open palm. “I’ll tell you why. Because the congregations have grown soft. Because the priests and the bishops and the cardinals have grown soft. Because fairy magic is tempting and we have all been led into temptation!”

“Father Macnamilla, this is not your pulpit.” Bishop Tanner found the strength to silence the tirade, but he feared it was too late. The words were out.

“No.” The young priest looked not at all calmed. “But I tell you, Bishop Tanner, it is not the pulpit where you will have to worry about me. Unlike many members of the city… my parishioners have not gone soft.”

“If you act outside the doctrines, you will be defrocked.”

“Oh, have no fear, Bishop Tanner.” The man was mad, truly mad. “I will act entirely within the doctrines and gospels.”

He stalked out, leaving Bishop Tanner to calm an agitated elders’ council. Between the elders and the thousand other small crises that attack a diocese in a city fairy-strong, it was weeks before Bishop Tanner truly had time to think about the father’s words again.

And by the time he opened the old doctrines to find what Father Macnamilla was talking about, the blood had already starting spilling.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/883555.html. You can comment here or there.

Another Meme

Jan8

via [personal profile] recessional

Comment with characters, ones I usually write or not, and I will write a few sentences of kink, angst, fluff or an AU for them. Feel free to tell me which option you’d like and provide details, or just toss character names.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/883305.html. You can comment here or there.

Thinking about creating a new bingo community – feedback requested

Jan8

Because of a variety of systemic problems I’ve had with [community profile] kink_bingo over the years, most of which I really feel are “it’s not them, it’s me,” I’ve been thinking about creating my own sexytimes and kinkytimes type of bingo community.

If you would have an interest in participating:

* What sort of prompts would you like to see? Specific prompts? Categories?
* What sort of prompts do no Definitely Not Want?

* How about achievements?

* And, as a community, are there things you’re rather see/not see?

As an example, if I create a bingo community, it will not be “fanfic with orgfic tacked on;” I’ll try to make the language & rules include both original fic & fanfic (It’s a small thing, but it frustrates me endlessly).

So what about you?

Also, what should I callll it?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/882868.html. You can comment here or there.

Stranded World Landing Page Updated

Jan8

I have updated the Stranded World Landing Page here – http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/23315.html – and in honor of that will take two prompts for Stranded World

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/882676.html. You can comment here or there.

Impossible Projects

Jan8

“…so do you think you can get one of the interns set on that?”

Cara pursed her lips. You didn’t say no to the boss, but… “It’s way out of our normal range of projects, sir. Can’t the client just use Dragon or something?”

“In this case, no. It has to be this – they refuse to use ‘modern technology’. And, Cara?” Liam raised bushy eyebrows. “This is a grant-payer.”

“Aah.” Cara nodded. The grant-payers were the legal, legit source of income for the lab – although certainly not the only source. “I’ve got three promising new interns. I’ll see what they can do.”

Three weeks later, she walked in to the intern corral to an argument-in-process.

“…you can’t quit! Do you have any idea what they do to you if you quit The Lab?”

“Generally,” Cara interrupted, “we give you a glowing letter of recommendation for being smart enough to get out of here before it kills you. Not going well, is it?”

“It’s impossible! It’s paper, it’s not the sort of medium that listens very well, and you want it to take its own dictation?”

“Not me.” Cara shrugged. “I use voice rec software a guy down the hall built. But the client wants it, and the clients pay your… room and board.”

“But it’s paper… A book that takes dictation?”

“I think I’ve got it.” The third intern, small and mousy, had been easy to overlook, off in the corner the way she was. She pushed her glasses up her nose and repeated herself. “I think I’ve got it.”

Cara stifled a crow of triumph. Sometimes the impossible projects got them the best scientists, in the long run.

…although there had been that case with the sentient roses…

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/882423.html. You can comment here or there.

Feedback/Ideas wanted: Foedus Planetarum

Jan7

So, this story – http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/880894.html – sets up a list of potential people who could attest that Yira is unfit for marriage. I know who two of them are – the second one being set up by the card – http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/878993.html – but I could use more ideas. Roles/people in Yira’s life? Help?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/881726.html. You can comment here or there.