Archive | September 2015

First Cohort’s Graduation, a drabble story of Addergoole

Sep15

I felt like writing this, so I did. Year four was pretty awful for everyone.

End of Year Four of the Addergoole School

The students had all walked across the stage, had all been given their names and released from one set of obligations and oaths into another. Various bonds and promises had broken. The students milled around now in the Village, waiting for parents to pick them up, waiting for Luke’s Jeep to take them to the airport.

Regine watched them from a distance, accompanied by Mike and Shira Pelletier. They bounced about, nervous energy making them louder than they normally would be. Students who had spent four years ignoring each other talked now, bonded by the feeling of “us against the world.”

There was a chance they’d need it. Mike cleared his throat. “Well, there goes the First Cohort.”

“Indeed.” Regine’s lip twitched. It wasn’t a smile, not as normal people smiled. Mike wasn’t even sure it counted as an expression for Regine.

“How do you think they’ll do?” He snuck a look at Shira, but she was ignoring him. “Do you think they’ll be okay, out in the world?”

“We gave them everything we could, every educational tool we had at our disposal.” Regine’s eyes tracked them coldly. Shadrach, who Mike had failed so badly. Dita, who had chosen her road and nailed herself to it with her stiletto heels. Isra. Lavanya. Linden had Named four Students as Adults today, and he wasn’t entirely certain he’d done well for any of them.

“We educated them.” Shira spoke slowly, thoughtfully. Her Students were all Third Cohort or younger. She had no horse in this race, as it were. “We taught them about being fae. We taught them about fighting, and we taught them history and science, literature and so on. But did we equip them for the end?”

Mike felt as if someone had dropped a truckload of rocks on his chest. The end. There were few scarier words than those, from a seer’s lips.

Regine cleared her throat. “We’ve followed the plan. If you believe the plan needs changing, Shira, then perhaps we should discuss it with the entire staff.”

If she expected the Skin-Taker to back down, she was barking up the wrong tree. Shira raised her perfect eyebrows and smirked.

“Why don’t we do that, then. Michel?” She made Mike’s name sound lovely in French. “What do you think?”

Mike watched Shadrach and Meshach hop into Luke’s Jeep. He cleared his throat and nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think we ought to look at the plan again.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/981589.html. You can comment here or there.

Year ONE Addergoole

Sep15

If I was going to write a story about Addergoole Year one, do any of the students intrigue you as a Point-of-View character?

Cohort 1
1995

Absalom
Aella
Amanada
Anise
Barnaby [name subject to change]
Ciro
Dita
Donegal
Holly
Isra
Juniper
Lavanya [formerly known as Oralee]
Liza
Megan
Meshach
Shadrach
Tristan
Ysolde

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/981278.html. You can comment here or there.

Exit Strategy, a possibly beginning to a story/novella/thing

Sep13

“The thing is, I’m cheating.” The guts of the Heinlein sat in front of them, not all that different from the commercial space shuttles being developed in other parts of the country.

Chloe Rogers was perched there with the brightest mind in space flight, apologizing her ass off and hoping it would be enough. “What we want to do — what we need to do to make this trip worth it — it’s not possible yet. The science isn’t there.”

Dave Krueger looked down at his hands. He was clenching and unclenching his fists, as if the movement helped him think. As if he was trying not to break things. “I thought you’d had a breakthrough. I thought you’d really, truly figured out FTL travel.”

“The thing is, I have.” Chloe couldn’t have felt worse about this if she’d run over Dave’s puppy on the way to lying to him about the drive — fibbing, bending the truth a little, about the drive. But she needed him. “The problem is, I figured it out with magic, not with science.”

He looked up, his eyes widening, his eyebrows lifting. “So when you said you’d made a trip to Mars to test it—”

“I was being one hundred percent honest. I can fly this ship at FTL speeds. It’s just…” She held her hands open and shrugged.

“I thought the whole point of this ship was to get away from the magic people.” He twisted his mouth and spat out the words. “Magic people. ‘Gods’ It’s ridiculous. It shouldn’t exist.“

“I know. But we do. And we’ve been here a lot longer than these so-called ‘gods.” And the things is… you remember talking in college, about how the adults were ruining everything before we could get old enough to even start fixing it properly?”

She had a long history with Dave. Even if he hadn’t been the brightest mind in space flight, she would have wanted him on this trip.

“I remember.” The admission came slowly. “We were drinking pretty heavily at the time.”

“This is like that, Dave. It’s exactly like that. These old fae, the ones that were here already and the ones that think they’re gods, they’re going to ruin this planet. I’m not entirely certain they won’t utterly destroy it, just trying to claim a piece of it as their own.”

“So we have to get out, just like we always said.” Dave looked up slowly. “But I’m superfluous then. You’ve got your drive. It’s just… magic.”

“I’ve got me. I’ve got me, and there might be three other people on the planet who can do this, and I don’t trust two of them and the third one… has their own problems. Which means we need to keep working on proper, scientific FTL. So that when we’re ready, we can return, or keep exploring. Even if I’m dead, or lost, or just don’t want to come.”

“But everything we need, everything takes an industrial base. We can’t build any of this stuff on a raw planet, especially not with the equipment you can fit in the Heinlein. IT’s impossible, Chloe.”

Chloe stood up. “Let me introduce you to Boris.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/980981.html. You can comment here or there.

In Which Reynard Goes Back To School

Sep4

First: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/753621.html
Previous: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/923397.html

The hallway was a strange off-green that looked naggingly familiar to Reynard. When they passed the second display case, this one showing off a variety of long-dead cell phones, he began to understand where they were. When they passed a fire door, both doors wedged open with pieces of wood, he was certain.

“You took over an elementary school?” That explained the chalkboard…

“Actually, we buried it. It had survived the collapse almost entirely intact.”

“Buried?” Reynard looked around at the soft, indirect light that infused the place. “But the – the classroom we were in, there was a view.”

“It’s a really neat Working. One of my crew did it in a lot of the windows; it keeps it from feeling tight and claustrophobic down here.”

“You buried an entire school. And then you put in windows.” Reynard shook his head – carefully, because he could still feel the prick of hawthorn, even with all the vines gone. “And you went to school the same time I did?”

“We’re overachievers,” she answered lightly. “Burying the school was the easy part. Doing it so groundwater didn’t seep in everywhere was the hard part. We’re almost there, by the way.”

“Principal’s office? I know I’ve been a bad boy…”

“That’s tomorrow.” She smirked at him, the first playful expression he had seen on her face. It made her look far less severe; he found he liked it.

Of course, he reminded himself, she Owns you. Probably. She’s going to look attractive no matter what she does.

He cleared his throat. He had not been this far off his game in – in ever. “Tomorrow, Mistress?”

She chuckled at him, the laughter after the smirk sounding almost joyful. “Didn’t I say to call me Elle?”

Reynard nearly stumbled. “Shit. Shit, I’m sorry…” He considered dropping to his knees, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get back up. “I – I forgot.”

She tapped his nose lightly. “You’ll have to work on that. Tonight – tonight, let’s just get you cleaned up and into a bed before you fall over, all right?”

“All right. Okay.” He swallowed. His head was spinning. “That, uh, that sounds like a really good idea.”

“Right through here.” She took his arm, holding him up as much as guiding him, and steered Reynard into one of the classrooms.

Which had, he noticed quickly, been transformed. A giant bed, four-poster, covered in quilts, dominated the room. An old, chipped dresser was flanked by mismatched chairs.

One bed. Reynard wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried. He’d gone to Addergoole, where everyone assumed you slept with your Kept. After all, that was more than half of what Kept were for. But he’d also been out in the world, where some people had some funny ideas about Kept…

…or about slaves.

“Running water was easy.” Elle continued to move Reynard, so he continued to stumble forward. “Getting the water heater to work properly was a little harder. But hey, some of us just cheat.”

The bathroom was as much a mismatch as her bedroom. It had clearly been part of the school’s lavatory before. Now, a claw-foot tub sat between two old toilet partitions.

“Hot… hot water?” He wasn’t sure he dared dream. “I haven’t had a proper hot bath in…”

She let go of his arm. Slowly, Reynard sank to the floor. Idiotically, the words of the old pledge went through his head.

“I pledge allegiance… to the shower…. and to the mistress for which it stands…”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1181009.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/980691.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Belowstairs, a beginning of a thing for Tír na Cali

Sep4

This is Cali: there is slavery. This particular one has no dub/non con, no bondage, nothing hinkie at all.

What was I thinking? 😉

“And what exactly are you?“

Thea looked at the man glaring up at her – up, because, like so many native Californians, he was painfully short – through wire-framed glasses. She cleared her throat. “I’m, ah, the new acquisition.” She tugged awkwardly on her collar.

“American, hunh?” He clucked angrily. “Well, we’ll have none of that escaping nonsense here. Try it once, and you’ll be flogged. Try it twice and you’ll wish you’d been flogged.”

Thea coughed. “Ah. I volunteered.”

“Well, then.” He shifted from foot to foot, still looking very displeased. “You’ll start mopping floors, same as anyone, and I’m sure you’ll soon learn that the glamorous life of a Californian slave is just as dirty and unpleasant as wherever you were…”

“She’ll start as chef.” Thea was uncertain if Gabrielle had stayed out of the butler’s sight on purpose, or if, being short and native Californian like the butler, the chatelaine had merely been hidden by Thea’s greater size. Now, however, she gently shoved Thea to one side. “She starts as chef, Bartholomew, because that is why the Lady bought her.”

“Nobody starts as–“

“Regardless, she is our new chef, and you can hardly argue that we need one, since the mess with the last one.”

“And then why did she buy an American, I ask you?”

“That is the Lady’s decision and not ours to question,” Gabrielle answered firmly, just as if she had not asked the Lady the same thing in Thea’s hearing, not an hour before. “I’m giving her Anthy. It’s high time the child had a proper position with a chance for improvement, and she’ll be a good translator for Thea. She can teach her how to be a slave–“

Thea smiled. She knew a cue when she heard one. “–and I can teach her how to be a chef. Sounds lovely. Where do I start?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/980308.html. You can comment here or there.

September Theme is Chosen! Me-ow!

Sep4

Oh, no, not the briar patch…

The poll has spoken, and the theme for September will be CATS!

Big cats, little cats, cat-people, cat-shaped aliens, cat myths, the fog, on little cat feet….

Cats!

Me-ow, me-ow

I will write the following stories for Patreon:

1 free-for-everyone flash fiction, 1 Patreon-only flash fiction, and one Patreon-only short story.

Others may be written as it pleases me.

Check out my Patreon here – https://www.patreon.com/aldersprig?ty=c

Just $1/month pledge will let you read all Patreon-only posts!

And if you want to prompt, $5/month will not only let you prompt in the prompt call (I will absolutely write to one of your prompts your first month!), it will bring the Patreon to the next milestone…

(dun-dun-DUNNNNNNNNN)

New Serial!!

Check it out! https://www.patreon.com/aldersprig?ty=c

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/979824.html. You can comment here or there.

The Pipes

Sep4

“Colburn! New Girl! The pipes on floor Seven-A-iii are clogged again!”

It was Georgia’s first day on the job, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. “It’s Georgia, ma’am, Georgia Fredrickson.”

“I don’t care if it’s Queen Anne III, the pipes in 7-A-iii are clogged and they need to be unclogged.”

Colburn, Sandra of the first name, grabbed Georgia’s arm. “We’ve got it, Madam Tomlinson, ma’am. Sorry about New Girl.”

“She’s new. She’ll learn or drown. Take her down to the dungeon, then, and shake Manster’s cage. Tell him he’s got to get the clog out, or the priest’s start screaming, and you know what that does to the sisters-and-brothers.”

Dungeon. Cage. Priests. The Facility had a language all of its own. Georgia could only let the water carry her along and hope that she could stay afloat.

“Come on, new girl.” Colburn grabbed Georgia’s arm. “I get to show you the dungeon, lucky me. Which means I get to show you the slide.”

“…Slide?” Keep afloat. Just keep afloat. The Facility paid better than anyone else in all of Compton. They also had this way of… leveraging people who didn’t work for them. Carrot, stick, all Georgia had to do was keep floating along until she knew what was going on. “Colburn, what are the pipes?”

“Heating, cooling. Cooking. They carry steam and… other things… all through the Facility. But, uh, the other things. They clog sometimes. And then they have to send the weasels in. It’s complicated.”

“…Weasels. Sandra, tell me honestly.” Georgia was a hand taller than Colburn and she was having trouble keeping up. “How long does it take for this place to make sense?”

“Oh, not long.” Colburn pulled open a sliding door hidden in the metal-paneled walls. “You just have to get your brain around the fact that everything is different here than is it in Compton.” Inside the wall compartment, a slick-looking ramp led downwards into the dark. “Hold on here and here, then let go all at once. Like this.” Colburn stepped onto the ramp, sat down, and let go. Immediately, she was transported downwards. The sounds of whooping trailed upwards.

Feeling as if the water was closing over her, Georgia followed suit. The ride downwards was smooth, terrifying, and rather short. She had, she realized, no idea how far she’d come.

Colburn was alreading bouncing in place as Georgia found her feet at the bottom. “Come on, the dungeon’s right over here.”

Georgia had been expecting a basement office, a dark place, perhaps, or a gloomy place. What she had not been expecting was the guard, with a pike, no less, the barred doors, the cage hanging in the middle of a mess of pipes. Weasels swarmed in and out of the cage and climbed up the outside of pipes, sometimes seeming to vanish.

And in the middle of all that, a small man with a very large beard was working on a pipe, his wrench nearly as big as he was.

“That,” Colburn explained unnecessarily, “is Manster. And his cage.”

Keep floating? The water was most definitely over Georgia’s head.

This is written to yesterday’s Thimbleful Thursday prompt

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/979647.html. You can comment here or there.

Sharing the Infliction, a story continuation of Addergoole

Sep3

After Inflicting Change, beginning of Year 20 of Addergoole

“Director Regine doesn’t ever take Students. My mother said she never has.“

Jack punctuated his words with lazy sneers and casual touches, patting Senka’s arm, shaking his head as if she was being foolish.

Senka pulled away. She had only been here for a week and a half, and she was already sick of Jack and the dozen others that were remarkably similar to Jack while looking nothing like him. “I did not say she had.”

“Your mother was wrong, anyway.” Perth was not like Jack. He was so completely not like Jack that Senka was unclear why he was friends with him, “crew” with the loud, obnoxious, self-satisfied, touching her again Jack. “She’s taken one Student. It was when my mom was here. Maybe your mom missed it.”

“Senka?” The Director’s secretary showed up just in time to forestall yet another fight between Jack and Perth. Senka wondered if Perth had seen the woman coming and timed it that way. “Director Regine would like to see you in her office after your magic classes today.”

“Thank you, Miss Hayley. I’ll see her there..” Senka barely resisted the urge to smirk at Jack.

She did, however, give in to the desire to gloat. “Perhaps,” she commented as they left the table for afternoon classes, “Director Regine will have one more student.”

~

Four students sat in the office, looking at each other. Two of the three, a boy named Mirek and a girl named Lianshi, were in advanced calculus with Senka. The third, a slender boy with lapis-blue eyes, she shared a Russian class with. Sumner.

They were alone in the room, despite having been called in by Director Regine. Senka, at least, was uncomfortable, and she could guess from the way that Sumner was shifting around that he was too. Lianshi was staring at the wall; Mirek was watching Lianshi – and Senka. Was every boy in this school prepared to be obnoxious?

“You’re all on time. Very good. That is a very good quality in a student.” Director Regine stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. “I am here to offer the four of you positions as my Students. I do not often take on new Students, but I have decided to make a change. You four would be my first Students in many years.”

“You want us to accept you as our Mentor?” Lianshi leaned forward. “Why us?”

“You are universally brilliant. You have at least one Grigori ancestor, which increases the chances that we will get along and be able to understand each other. And you have expressed in interest in one or more of my own areas of interest.”

“And why you?” Mirek was leaning back, looking like he was proud of himself. Senka rolled her eyes. “Why should you be our Mentor?”

“Well.” It struck Senka that the Director had not thought this through. “I am skilled and experienced in many things you have expressed interest in – the workings of Intinn, biology and genetics, mathematics and statistics.”

“No thanks.” Mirek stood up. “I think I’ll stick with Professor Fridmar. Thanks for the offer, though.”

He walked out, leaving Director Regine clearing her throat uncomfortably. “Well, ah, then. And the rest of you…?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/979033.html. You can comment here or there.

Help fill the Roster – Addergoole year 20 (& 19,18,18)

Sep3

The year is (fictionally) 2014. The world started ending in 2011. Tell me something/as much as you want/ everything about an Addergoole student beginning school this, the 20th year of Addergoole.

Existing students in year 20 are:
Adalbert (Anda/Ciro)
Alewar (Sarita/Finn)
Ankara (Aggie/Bowen)
Berry (holly/Tristan)
Chaney (http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/123052.html)
Eryk (Shiva/Ty)
Lidah (Ivette/Anwell)
Rasputin (‘Lisha/Vlad)
Selena (Oralee/Meshach)
Semiramis
Willow (Acacia/Carter)

This is still early enough for 1st generation characters, however!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/978837.html. You can comment here or there.

#3WW: Flexible

Sep2

This story involves involuntary capture and bondage.

“I must say, it’s been a while since I’ve found anything quite so amusing.” Tash poked the boy’s side gently. “You are certainly more entertaining than – well, than anyone I can remember in the last decade, at the very least. And so pliable, so elastic. Are you sure you weren’t in the circus?”

“Fuck you, lady.” The man was, indeed flexible; he’d have to be, to be tied up the way Tash had managed without dislocating anything. But as lithe and as squirmy as he was – and he was very much so lithe and even more so squirmy – he wasn’t getting away. Not until Tash felt like letting him go.

“Oh, I imagine you will eventually. And quite pleasantly, quite, ah, deeply, if your gyrations are any indication. You have lovely hips, too. Are you sure you weren’t a model?”

“No.” He gritted his teeth as she stroked his bare skin. “No. Not an acrobat. Not a model. Not a policeman.” He’d, at one point, displayed an interest in her handcuffs. Now, of course, he was wearing them.

His arm came free with surprising velocity and he slammed an elbow into Tash’s head. “I’m an escape artist.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/978474.html. You can comment here or there.