Archive | June 2016

The Aunt Family Landing Page

I think my favorite part of this setting is the fact that we really have no idea what’s going on. 😀 ~Inspector Caracal

When Evangaline’s Aunt Asta dies, Evangaline inherits the house, its mysterious artifacts, and the family mantle of Aunt.

Meanwhile and 4 decades earlier, Asta’s Aunt Ruan is dealing with the mess left by another aunt, and struggling against taking on the Aunt title herself.

And in the present, while Evangaline deals with her Aunts’ legacy, her niece Beryl struggles with the idea that she will, in time, be the next Aunt.

“The Aunt Family” is contemporary fantasy; Ruan’s story is taking on elements of steampunk as well.

Born out of the October, 2011 Giraffe Call


Best places to start:
Heirlooms and Old Lace – Touched up on Patreon
What to do about Auntie X
Estate
Continue reading

Posting Schedule

I’ve been trying – with some success – to keep my postings to some sort of schedule. I thought it might keep me on track if I posted said schedule here.

I may be off by up to a day on any given post.

Monday
Edally Academy
Weekend blog post

Tuesday
Patreon “Bonus” post – a flashback, something I missed from the month before, or just a story not yet posted for the month

Wednesday
Edally Academy
Buffy fanfic (or Buffy Fanfic)

Thursday
Patreon – alternating weeks story & serial until serial is caught up
Throwback Thursday: a fic from “today in xxxx”, with commentary.

Friday
Edally Academy
Narnia Fanfic into Valdemar

Of course, other fiction will be posted as finished/as whim hits/as commissioned/etc.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1107235.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Give me Ideas… short Addergoole: YEar 5 fic

Hey, Addergoole fans! I need some ideas for short side fiction!

Consolidated from three tweets, looking for three separate-but-related things:

Addergoole year 5 – the original series. First week (showing up through 1st dance). Give me a character to write a side story about, pls.

what kind of addergoole: year 5 story could I fit on a postcard while still having it a discrete piece of fiction?

Need some what-if situations for Addergoole. What if a student []… What if they Change []… What if they find out…[] Looking for students that illustrate or exemplify Addergoole, essentially.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1125153.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Buffy: the Invitation (an Addergoole Crossover), Part VI

Buffy: The Invitation

Part I: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1096503.html
Part II: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1100922.html
Part III: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1104619.html#cutid1
Part IV: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1108537.html
Part V: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1112216.html

“Wait.” Buffy leaned forward. “You’re serious. Really serious. Commitments were made. Those commitments, they, what, overlap? Someone can do that? Someone can just be like ‘hey, this person, she’s going to go to an elite boarding school,’ and then someone else is like ‘oh hey, yoink, she’s going to stab vampires for us’? I mean, really? What if I’d died before I got to their fancy school? How does that work?”

“That is, indeed, the difficulty with making agreements or arrangements for other people.” Giles stared at the road as if he didn’t want to turn to look at Buffy. “If you had made these arrangements yourself, you would know that they might — were very likely to, indeed — conflict. However…” He made a thoughtful noise. “The commitment to be Slayer, such as it is, is not a commitment to a location. That is the choice of the Council and a choice of, ah, the situation. You can still be Slayer and not be in Sunnydale — as this summer so aptly proved.”

“Wait, wait.” Xander leaned forward. “You remember what this summer was like. We survived, yeah — but barely. Come on. If Buffy bails to go to this school, what’s going to happen in Sunnydale?”

Giles coughed uncomfortably. Buffy looked out the window, her shoulders hunching forward, and said nothing. Willow opened her mouth to say something, set her hand on Xander’s leg… and said nothing at all.

“Well? Come on, you know what this place was like before Buffy showed up. And now, the student paper’s obit section is down to every other month. We’re doing okay — as long as Buffy’s there. She goes away again, then what?”

“I’m quite aware of the problem, as I’m certain Buffy is. You’ve heard her repeatedly say that she cannot leave the Hellmouth, Xander; there’s no reason for you to lambaste her.”

“I’m not… I’m not basting the Buffster.” Xander frowned. “I’m just pointing out that this is a stupid plan.”

“The problem is not in convincing me, Xander, nor is it in convincing Buffy — or even Willow, although I believe the situation may be quite different for her. The problem lies in convincing this school — or the Council — that the situation cannot stand as it appears to be.”

“What, aren’t invitations to schools normally, you know, an invitation? Not a requirement? I mean, private schools, fancy schools.”

“Xander…” Willow put her hand on Xander’s arm. “This is complicated. It’s a mess of complicatediness, and yelling at Giles isn’t going to help him straighten it out. It’s all Watcher-y business and complicated fancy magicy sorts and stuff. So there’s fancy magical promises and things like that, too.”

“Willow?” Giles raised his eyebrows at the rear-view mirror. She squirmed in her seat.

“I did a little of the research and stuff. I mean, they want me to go to school there. There has to be a reason, right? Something going on there that makes them want me? I mean, me and Buffy, not exactly in the same league.”

“Will’s got a point. She’s way out of my league in the things of scholastic-ness, and in the magic-stuff. What kind of weird school wants me when they can have her?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Willow wrinkled up her face at Buffy. “You know it’s not! Buffy… I just meant, you’re the Chosen One, one girl in every generation…”

“Maybe two,” Xander put in helpfully.

“Well, if Buffy would stop dying… that’s major mojo, Buff. I’m just, well, me. Willow Rosenberg, good at reading books.”

“Including books locked in a librarian’s private stash,” Giles coughed.

“Well… um. About that.” Willow looked down at her knees. “I’m, ah, also good at picking locks? I learned it for the scooby-age! This summer. I mean, what with the… I’m just gonna shut up now.”

“Mm-hrrm. We’ll discuss this when we are back in Sunnydale, Willow. As for now — much as I am loathe to say it, Xander, Buffy, Willow is correct. The matter is immensely complicated, and we — or at least I, and possibly your mothers — are going to have to spend some time talking to this Director Avonmorea before anything can be worked out. I am certain that she will understand our situation, once it is explained to her.”

“Wait, are you just going to be like, ‘this is the Slayer, she cannot leave?’” Willow put on a deep, ominous sounding voice. “Because,” she returned to her normal perkiness with a quick throat-clearing, “what about that whole ‘vampires are a secret, don’t tell anyone’ thing that you were just lambasting Buffy about?” She drew the word out with a relish.

Giles did not seem to appreciate it. “I assure you, anyone to whom I will need to explain the situation with Buffy to that detail will already be aware of…” He caught his breath and swallowed. “Oh, my.”

Willow did not answer. She was pressed against the seat back, her hands flat on the upholstery, her already-pale skin white.

Buffy, to her left, had a death grip on the door handle and her right hand fisted in her lap. “Giles…” she managed. “Something is…”

“Wards,” Willow forced out.

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1134781.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1124762.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

#ThimblefulThursday: Earning Your Keep

Content warning: slavery, humiliation, other things of that ilk loosely hinted at.

“Please, mistress.” Brock swallowed against his dry throat and his pride. “Please,” he repeated. He hated it. He hated the kneeling, hated the begging, hated calling her mistress.

He hated more the way she looked at him when he did those things, like he was a passably-trained pet. “You know what you have to do, dear. I told you.”

Brock ducked his head again. “Please, mistress. It’s… I can’t.”

“You can, my pet, and you will, or you will sit in here and starve.”

It had been three days with nothing but shallow bowls of water. Brock had started begging near the end of the second day. He knew already what the fourth and fifth day looked like. His mistress had her lesson plans, and she stuck to what worked.

Brock touched his head to the floor. “Mistress? Is there any other way?”

“There is starving, my dear. You do what you need to do to earn your food, the same as everyone else here.”

He swallowed hard against a lump in his throat. “I… I will do it.”

“I know you will.” She patted his head. “You’re a good boy, you know. You just have to be reminded.”

The praise felt hollow and horrible and good. Brock waited, basking in it and hating it, hating her and wanting her to say more nice things, and remembering, most of all, that he wasn’t in the clear yet.

“Now come here, dear. I’ll give you a little to tide you over. We wouldn’t want you fainting in the midst, would we? …again.”

Brock winced. “No, mistress.” He crawled forward through the small entryway in his cage. If he’d had any more pride to swallow… but he was long past that. “Is it…”

“Noone you know, pet.” She set a bowl in front of him, rice, with a trickle of sauce on it. Brock waited, patiently. He didn’t know whether to be pleased or worried by her answer. Someone new, it could go either way… “You may eat.”

“Thank you, mistress.” Waiting, thanking, holding still until he was told to move… Brock had learned many lessons since he’d been captured. Now he knelt forward and ate, slowly and carefully. The food was bland, boring… the food was food, and that was all that mattered.

“That’s my good boy.” He barely felt it when she clipped a leash on his collar. “Now come.”

Written to June 9th’s Thimbleful Thursday prompt, “Meal Ticket.”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1128176.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1124520.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

The Pact Slips, Part One.

Acquiring Students
When my tablet runs out of battery…
The Crew Continues
Crew, Continued
The Day
A Pact

Doomsday Academy, a couple months after “the Pact,” above

Content: implied sexual suggestion

“Kerr is all wrapped up with that girlfriend, and, well, it’s not really sex if we…” Astarte’s gestures left no doubt what she had in mind, and Aron’s body left no room for argument about its opinions on the matter.

“But we…”

“It’s not really sex. It’s fine.”

~

“I really loved her, you know.” Kerr stared at his empty mug; Sunny had taken away the bottle he’d been using to refill it. “I really…”

“I know, honey.” Sunny petted his hair and tried to soothe her crewmate. “It sucks. I know.” It’d only been two weeks before that her short-lived first relationship had seemed to fade away into the ether.

“You get me. Why do you get me?”

Sunny swallowed. The look in Kerr’s eyes, she ‘got’ that all right. She knew where this was going. “Because I listen, love,” she murmured, throaty and maybe a bit inviting. “That’s all. I listen.”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1126134.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1124282.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Goat-Mad, a Story of Reiassan – A Patreon Story

Author’s note:

June 2016’s Patreon theme is Reiassan, the fantasy-and-steampunk setting for my web-serial Edally Academy and for many other stories, listed here.  A short description of the world can be found here on the Edally site. 

The story below is set on the continent of Reiassan, in the nation of Calenta, at a time at least a century before Edally Academy is set. 

~ ~~

“Can we have a goat now?”

When Latezya was nine years old, she spent every spare moment of her school break cleaning out the outbuilding behind her family’s home.  Before her parents had bought the house, the old building had been a stable.  Now that it was theirs, it served mostly as a junk room and home to the wild weasels that ran rampant through the city. Continue reading

Goat-Mad, a story of Reiassan for Patreon

“Can we have a goat now?”

When Latezya was nine years old, she spent every spare moment of her school break cleaning out the outbuilding behind her family’s home. Before her parents had bought the house, the old building had been a stable. Now that it was theirs, it served mostly as a junk room and home to the wild weasels that ran rampant through the city….

read on…!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1122660.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

The Gods Not Tamed, a continuation of a fanfic of Narnia and Valdemar

first: A Door in the Wall
Second: On the Other Side of the Door
Third: The Call Comes Again
Fourth: New Travelling Companions
Fifth: Complications and then Complications
Sixth: Stranger Things
Seventh: A Change and Changes
Eighth: But Not A Return

The next morning found mounts, Soleck, Leffen, breakfast, and packed saddle bags waiting for the four of them. Breakfast, as laid out by Marna and Orna, was heavy, filling, and delicious. The horses were horses only, as far as Susan could tell, solid working beasts that seemed placid, easy rides. Well, Soleck had no way of knowing they’d spent a lifetime in the saddle, and these may have been the rides available. Susan hoped she wasn’t taking a beast someone needed to pull a plow.

“One more day I will travel with you, and then one more morning. After that, the sight of a Herald and Companion is likely to spook His Highness or cause the wrong rumors to go to the wrong ears. There will be other guides, however.” Soleck half-bowed apologetically. “We would not send you off into strange wilderness alone.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Edmund quipped quietly. He cleared his throat when Soleck looked at him strangely. “We appreciate the guides. It’s a strange place, like you said. We’d likely get awfully turned around without some help.”

That, Susan thought, might be laying it on a bit heavily, but Soleck accepted it.

“There will be maps, of course. And there is a compass for guiding you. But maps and compasses can sometimes be tricky when you do not know if the road you are on is Center Street or The Grand Aisle, no?” He grinned, amused, and it was such an infectious expression that Susan found herself smiling back at him.

“Oh, certainly,” Ed agreed cheerfully. “It does no good to say you’ve got seventeen leagues between Caer… between one place and the next if you’ve got no idea where you are in relation to either place, or even how to recognize either place when you get there.”

“Indeed. And so we will do what we can to guide you, and make certain you know where you are on those maps when your guides leave you. There are better solutions, I am sure…” He hesitated as Leffen tossed his head, but whatever the Companion was saying, he was not sharing it with the rest of them. “…other solutions, certainly, but this is the solution we have.”

None of them questioned that, for what could they say? They rode in silence instead, and for Susan’s part, at least, she studied the countryside, its farmlands and its rolling hills so like places she had been before, and so different.

“Look,” Lu would say, from time to time, “a kestrel,” or “Look, a squirrel,” and she was as excited about both, so Susan knew her sister’s thoughts were along similar paths as her own.

The boys were quieter, but once in a while, Ed would point out a road sign or some curiosity, or Peter would point out the slope of a roof or a way the rocks were put together in a wall. Nobody said remember when we saw this in Narnia?; the habit was too ingrained in all of them. But it was writ large, even in the way they wore their tunics and breeches and split skirts, even in the way they sat on their placid, easy mounts.

Susan noticed, too, the way Soleck was looking at them. She’d catch him looking at Edmund and Peter discussing the strategic importance of a specific wall, or Lucy humming thoughtfully about the the flow of a particular creek. She’d catch him looking at her studying the people walking down the road or riding in carts or carriages.

“You four are… interesting,” he said, slowly and ruefully, when he realized he’d been caught out watching. “I begin to understand what it is the Sunlord would see, to bring you here. You are right, you Edmund, that people will see what they do of your stature, and they will not see what they should of your nature.”

He sounded, Susan thought, a little bit sad. She kneed her horse a little closer to Leffen and looked up at him through a fringe of hair. It was a tactic Lucy had decried on more than one occasion — but on more occasions than that, it had gotten Susan quite far. “Is something amiss, Soleck?”

“Amiss?” His smile was even more triste than he had sounded previously. “This world, I believe, is amiss, that we would send children such as your brother and sister into such difficult situations. I see that the SunLord had his reasons, but the reasons of those above are not for ones like me to question.”

“He’s not a tame SunLord,” Lucy muttered.

“No,” Soleck answered, sounding more than a little bit confused, “tame he is most definitely not.”

“It’s a, a thing we said about our… our god, the one who sent us here,” Susan managed to explain, but that did little, if anything, to wipe the lost and unhappy look from Soleck’s face.

She supposed there were not that many people who could say, as she and Lu could, that they had ridden on the back of the Lion of Narnia, that they had cuddled the mane of their god.

She cleared her throat and, rather than attempting to explain what she imagined might be impossible to make clear, she changed the subject. “You mentioned maps, but what of the lay of the land. That is… we are in Valdemar. You said you were a Karsite. That is a part of Valdemar or another nation?”

“Oh, another nation, most definitely.” He looked startled at the question. Interesting. “To the south and the east of Valdemar, not all that far from here, as such things go.”

“And Is Valdemar on a coast? What other nations border it?”

“Truly these are things you do not know? But you must have come from somewhere…” Soleck shook his head as Leffen danced in place, not “speaking” such that they Pevensies could hear, but being quite clear on his opinions nevertheless. Soleck coughed. “Ahem. So. Rethwellen borders Valdemar peacefully, and…”

By the time he was done, Susan found herself wishing for maps and a pad in which to write this. How had she ever learned all this, back in Narnia? More importantly, by the time she was done, the angry and confused look had vanished from Soleck’s face.

“Thank you for the briefing.” She bowed formally from horse-back, only to see Soleck flushing again. “It does make our job easier.”

“And you, in turn, make mine easier. Thank you.” He sounded confused rather than grateful. Susan wondered what was bothering him.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1122353.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable