Archive | August 2016
Addergoole: the Original Series – Bare Necks
Of all the things he was expecting when wandering halls alone — Ardell, Baram, worried older cy’Lucas, woman like Massima — Yngvi had actually not been anticipating being bowled into by someone running full speed through the halls.
At least, he corrected as he picked himself up and brushed himself off, not this late in the year.
Read on: http://www.addergoole.com/TOS/archives/1000
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1152421.html. You can comment here or there.
The Hellmouth Job, Chapters 11 & 12 (A Leverage/Buffy Fanfic)
Part I
Part Ia
Part II
Part III
Chapters 7 & 8
Chapter 9 & 10
The Secrets
Eliot fought the urge to snarl at Parker, at this ridiculously perky teenager with a very distinctive style he’d never seen before, at the dust on his clothes, at the ridiculous teenagers showing up and acting as if nothing was strange at all.
He settled for the little half-smile that had gotten him through not strangling Hardison more than once. “The youth group. Alisha is here to join.” His smile morphed into his best fake smile. “I’m here to help keep an eye on things. You know how much trouble you young folks can get in.” He draped a protective arm around Parker’s shoulders and hoped they bought it. He wasn’t a grifter, damnit, and they’d just seen him fighting.”
The blonde narrowed her eyes at him. “The youth group?”
“Oh, I hear it’s a lot of fun!” Parker smiled brightly. “There’s supposed to be singing, and some sort of handiwork, right, Uncle Dave?”
“That’s right, young missy. And it’s all good clean fun.”
“Says the guy who was taking on two vampires by himself.” The blonde narrowed her eyes at him. “Who are you, and where are you from?”
“I’m Dave Palmer, and this is my niece Alicia, and we’re from Boston to help out with this youth group.” He gave them his best good-ol’-boy smile, the one that showed teeth and crinkled his face. Sophie liked it; she said it made him look genuine.
“All the way from Boston?” The brunette girl frowned at him. “That’s a long way for a youth group.”
“Aw, well, we go where the mission takes us, you know.”
“And you fight vampires.” The blonde girl was unhappy with him. The feeling was mutual.
Eliot let a little of the good-ol’-boy slip. “I was in the armed forces, ma’am. I don’t take kindly to people attacking me, and I will fight them when they do so.”
She shifted backwards. “We don’t want the government getting involved.”
He held up both hands in surrender. “Was, ma’am, mustered out and I don’t play that game anymore. But it don’t mean I can’t hold my own against some creeps.” He brushed off his clothes. “Just didn’t expect to see creeps quite like that here, in such a little town. Certainly wasn’t in the brochure.”
The last was slanted, almost a snarl, and directed directly at Hardison. On the other end of the comms, he held up both his hands, although Eliot couldn’t see the gesture. “Don’t look at me, man. Nobody told me we were fighting the undead hordes, either.”
-
- “Oh dear.” Tara plopped down in a seat next to Hardison and held out her hand for one of the earpieces. “Eliot already encountered some vampires, did he? I did say you were going to need me,” she added over her shoulder.
-
- Nate frowned at Tara, at Sophie, at the absent Eliot, at Hardison. “Vampires? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
- “No.” Tara’s voice was level and calm — and more serious than Nate had heard her be in years. “They’re not kidding, and I’m not joking, either. Eliot and Parker are lucky they survived. Eliot, disengage from the woman before you offend her. I’ll explain everything I can when you get back here.”
“Brochure?” Buffy could hear the faint buzz of conversation in the earpieces, but she noted that for later discussion. “Oh, that silly thing? It doesn’t tell you anything at all about friendly Sunnydale. The vampires, the four days a year it’s not really sunny here, all of those dirty little secrets. Now, this youth group you’re here to join, it wouldn’t be the Idle — Cordy?”
“Idle Hands Workshop.” The brunette girl stepped forward, getting into Eliot’s face without the faintest whiff of fear. “That wouldn’t be you and your friends, would it? Because if it is, I’ve got some questions.”
-
- “Eliot,
disengage.
- ” Tara’s voice, on the other hand, sounded worried. “Nate, we’ve got to reconsider this mission.”
Eliot smiled even more sharply at the brunette. “No ma’am.” He offered his hand. “Cordelia, was it? No, we are not part of the Idle Hands group, but we heard they were having a spot of trouble, and we came into town to see if we could help.”
“That trouble wouldn’t involve—” Cordelia trailed off into a muffled noise of indignation as the young man slapped his hand over her mouth.
The man smiled brightly and took Eliot’s hand with his free hand, shaking it firmly but without any real grip-testing. “What Cordy’s trying to say is that we’ve heard there was some trouble, too. Maybe we’ll come check out the group with you?”
- “Elliot…” Tara’s voice was down to a whisper. “This could go so badly.”
“Sure!” He smiled brightly at the young man. “Here, let me write down my number — Alisha, hon, write down my number, wouldja? I don’t remember it — and we’ll get your information. We can work something out.”
Twelve: The Warning
“You’re something else.” Buffy shook her head at the man and wrote down the library number. “Look, I’m not supposed to get calls from strange men—” She masterfully ignored the snorts and suppressed laughter from Xander — so here’s our librarian. He’s a good friend, and he can handle any ‘working anything out’.” She wrinkled her nose at the man. He was too affable, too nice, and way too good with fighting. “Maybe we can spar sometime? If you’re going to be wandering around being bait, I can show you a few things about fighting vampires.”
Most men wouldn’t like being taught by a girl, especially not army men. This guy, he just smiled wider. “I’d love that, ma’am. Ah, here.” He handed her the paper the maybe-a-new-Slayer had written on. “That’s where we’re staying. I do hope we see you around.”
Buffy narrowed her eyes. “Tell your friends — the ones on your phone thingies — that they’re right. You’re in Sunnydale now. Things are going to go badly.”
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1152200.html. You can comment here or there.
Lady Taisiya’s 4th Husband, Chapter 3 – a fantasy/romance fdomme story
Chapter 3 in my answer to the “guy has umpteen wives” trope
Find Chapter 1 here
Chapter 2 is here.
Onter led him down a low ramp into a part of the house that seemed to be cut into the bedrock. It was cooler down here, and the floors were softly carpeted. “You practice?” he asked, not unkindly.
“Sir?”
“Kiddo, down here is husbands’ territory. I’m Onter and you’re Feltian… Fell, probably. It’ll give you time to get used to the new name.”
“Yes, Onter.” That’s how his mother’s husbands had been, but Sefton hadn’t known… well, now he knew.
“So. You practice the all-fours?”
“Oh.” He ducked his head and shrugged, strange as that felt in this position. “Yeah. Didn’t want to look like an idiot.”
“You don’t have to put on a show for us. Still, smart. You didn’t balk, you didn’t freeze up and you didn’t trip.”
Sefton risked peeking up at Onter. “Did you…?”
“I froze up. I knew what was coming, and I still froze up.” He gestured behind him.
“I tripped.” The feet Sefton knew belonged to Second-Husband came into view. “I’m Calum. Don’t ask me how I tripped on all fours, but I managed it. I thought she was going to send me back.”
“Nah, she likes your pretty face too much,” Onter teased. “Almost there, Fell, few more feet.”
Sefton moved forward a few more feet. He wanted to ask, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to.
“Onter’s too polite to say it.” The voice was lower than the others; he remembered the way he’d sounded like he was smirking when he talked about obedience. “I’m Jaco. ‘Balked’ is putting it mildly.”
“Stand up, kiddo,” Onter added. “Here.” A strong hand caught Sefton’s bicep and helped him upwards. “You’re in husbands’ territory,” he repeated. “If our Lady comes down here, then you kneel. But this is where we can relax a bit.”
Sefton found his feet but kept looking at the floor. Onter was being friendly now, but Sefton had been respectful, well within the rules. He wasn’t ready to find out quite yet what happened when he wasn’t.
Jaco laughed. “This one’s not going to fight the chains. He’s scared of you, Onter.”
“Might do you some good to be scared,” Onter answered mildly.
“Ha. Not me, no.” He punched Sefton lightly in the arm, his chains jingling. His hands were shackled, too, Sefton noticed, although with a decent length between them and his chain belt — enough to punch with, at least. “Don’t worry about me, kiddo, I’m a cautionary tale, not a prophecy for you. Like I said. I don’t want to be here.” He made his chains jingle. “And I don’t give in easy.”
Sefton looked at him. He was handsome, sharply so, with a body that looked carved out of stone, wearing nothing but a pair of wrap pants and his chains. “I don’t think any of us were volunteers,” he offered cautiously.
Jaco snorted. “No. Of course we weren’t. Who ever heard of a husband volunteering?”
“Well… love matches?” He offered it cautiously. Jaco might be… interesting, but he still outranked Sefton.
“Hrphf. All right, so, yeah. Sometimes first husbands, second husbands, maybe. But us? Nah. None of us picked to be here.”
“Exactly.” Calum set a hand on Sefton’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to Jaco too much; he’ll get you all mixed up. Come on, kiddo, we’re almost done with all the ceremony, and then you’ll have a little time to get settled in.”
Sefton’s eyes went to the chains on Jaco. Ceremony. He nodded, his mouth dry again.
“Good. This way.” Calum and Onter steered Sefton, one on either side of him, into a small room. The light was bright in here, the view a nice one over the ocean, but it was clearly a room with very few purposes.
Sefton didn’t have to be told what to do. There was a low stool; he knelt on it. His family’s house had a room like this, too. His fathers had called it The Obedience Room; among themselves, the boys of the family had joked it was more like the Disobedience Room..
He hadn’t seen Jaco come in, but Jaco set a hand on his shoulder to steady him anyway. “If you’re not an idiot like me,” he murmured, quietly enough that the others could pretend not to hear, “the chains won’t last long. So don’t be an idiot, okay?”
Sefton couldn’t quite talk around the lump in his throat, but he nodded, barely a twitch of his head, but he thought it would be enough.
This part they did without words. First, Onter shaped light metal cuffs to Sefton’s wrists and ankles. Those would remain as long as as he was married to Lady Taisiya, longer than that, if her will dictated so and he outlived her. Then there was a chain belt around his waist — Jaco and Callum still wore one of those, but Onter did not. None of Sefton’s mother’s husbands had, but he could see from looking at Jaco what it was for.
Sefton held as still as he could. He wasn’t going to be Jaco, still in chains years later. He wasn’t going to fight it.
He eyed Jaco, curious and hoping for distraction, while Calum and Onter attached the chain to one wrist shackle, ran it through the loop on his new belt, and attached it to the other shackle. “Why?” he asked, almost a whisper. “I mean…”
“I don’t want her thinking that I like it,” Jaco answered softly. “I mean, don’t get to thinking you should emulate me or anything — you’ll be a lot happier if you can be a good husband and do what you’re told. But I can’t. I didn’t want the deal that brought me here; I think it was a lousy idea for my family and a worse idea for me.”
Sefton’s eyes widened. You weren’t supposed to say that, my family. Your family was your wife’s household, not the people who raised you.
Jaco patted his shoulder again. “Yeah,” he answered quietly, although Sefton hadn’t said anything. “Like I said, I’m the big story of what not to do.” He jerked his shoulders. “She’s not a bad wife, as far as things go. Onter and Callum will tell you that they’re happy with her, and who am I to say if they’re telling the truth or lying to themselves? You’re gonna be fine, kid. Keep your head down and don’t swear at the lady, and you’ll be fine.”
Sefton swallowed and ducked his head. The chains were all attached now, and they jingled quietly when he twitched. “Sure…”
Onter chuckled. “You know, Feltian, Jaco’s right. He’s a really good example of what not to do, and as long as you stick with that, you’ll be fine. Tay — Lady Taisiya — she’s pretty easy to get along with.” He gave the chain between Sefton’s wrists a little tug. “Come on. I’ll show you your bunk, and then you can see the nursery.”
Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1156617.html
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Climate Doodle
So SeaLemon has this August Doodle Challenge (Tumblr)
I mentioned I wanted to do a Worldbuilding challenge based on the doodle challenge. inventrix made me a modified list.
Day 2 is Climate. The climate of the world around Aerax (that’s an island with a center pinacle on top of a long tree trunk, not the Space Needle) is temperate, wet, and windy, especially up on the islands. (There’s a cactus on the other side because the original challenge was “cactus”, and also because over on the far side of the mountains, the weather is much dryer.)
Aerax and the sky islands are the setting of my Patreon serial The Expectant Wood.
(Day 3 is Seasonal food/fruit)
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1151304.html. You can comment here or there.
Narnia Problem
Hi guys…
I am ~stuck~ on Narnia/Cat in the Closet. I have an entire nother chapter written, but I’m bored.
And if I’m bored, well, then I expect the reader (you) will be too.
So I come to you for help. Help? Advice? Anything?
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1151188.html. You can comment here or there.
Recipe Notes: Microwave Vanilla Cake
It’s too hot to bake! But I have a microwave!!
I squished together 2 recipes:
http://www.tablefortwoblog.com/the-moistest-very-vanilla-mug-cake/ and
https://www.buzzfeed.com/emofly/tips-recipes-microwave-mug-cakes
This is what I got:
1/4 cup + 2 tbsp. (6T) all-purpose flour
3 tbsp. granulated sugar
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1/8 tsp. salt
2 tbsp. milk
1 egg
1 tbsp. vanilla extract
2 tbsp. butter, melted
Mix dry ingredients together*, mix wet ingredients separately, combine.
Split evenly into 2 ramekins.
Microwave approx. 1.5 minutes.
*If I do this again, I will do like Alton Brown and call the sugar a wet ingredient, mixing hot butter-sugar-egg-milk in that order (avoids clumping, risking cooking the egg, sad solid bits of butter).
Taste and texture to come later.
Edited to add: it was overcooked and tough. Not sure if it was JUST the overcookieness or if it was too something as well. Tasty, though. Shall try again and report back.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1150872.html. You can comment here or there.
Addergoole: the Original Series – No Apple for Teacher
This story is written for Clare K. R. Miller‘s request, thanks to the "Addergoole Wants You" comments-for-fics promotion. It follows Useful, itself one of the stories in the Addergoole-50-years-later stories following Retirement and Retirement 2.
Rozen was not sure about teaching…
(Read on: http://www.addergoole.com/TOS/archives/922 )
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1149965.html. You can comment here or there.
A Discovery in Depth
After Discovery, Part Fnarg and Discovery, Part Snarg, for the Finish It! Bingo Round Two
Content Warning: This describes a ritual that led to dozens of skeletons being buried under a mountain. It includes death and violence.
In the end, Aetherist Ovanobina dragged Tekemuzh down deep into the mine, to look at the place where the miners had found the bodies and where every archeologist in the land was now busily pulling out more bodies.
“There are so many…” Tekemuzh had seen death before. It was the nature of what his did, his “parlour trick”, that he could see the strongest emotion that had touched any given thing. His work was not always admissible in court, but that did not stop him from seeing the visions. “I think…” He sat down, because he did not want to fall down. “If I put enough of the visions together, I may be able to determine what the ritual was for. But this level of ritual murder…”
“It gets worse,” Ovanobina interjected, voice solemn and sepulchure. “I’m sorry, but they found a second site.”
Tekemuzh worked around a lump in his throat. He had done so well, so far, in not disgracing himself, but if he had to look at another site — if Ovanobina was saying it got worse — then he was not sure he could keep going as he had. He bowed his head and sought peace. “One thing at a time, then?” he offered through a dry throat. “First, we finish with this site. We see if we can put together the purpose of the ritual. And then we can move on to the next site. And we can put these bodies back to rest.” He touched the brow-bone of the skeleton nearest him with careful fingers. She had been barely an adult… most of them had barely been into adulthood, although the thoughts that came through were scrambled on that matter, strange.
The bones had been down there a long time, that much Tekemuzh could tell. How long, well, that led to some interesting questions, because the numbers he was getting — the weight of centuries — told a story that his history books denied.
It wouldn’t be the first time his history books had been found to be in direct conflict with the evidence of his Tekemuzh’s senses. He ignored the question for the moment. Right now, his work was as he had said it was. “Can you get me someone in here to transcribe, Aetherist? If I have to stop and take notes, it goes much more slowly.”
“I think if I send young Kalaket in here, he likely won’t vomit too often. Uzhnar, on the other hand…” The aetherist headed out into the light, coming back a few minutes later with a scholar so young he probably should still be in an Academy somewhere. “Aetherist Tekemuzh, this is junior scholar Kalaket. Do be nice to him. Kalaket, transcribe as Aetherist Tekemuzh dictates to you, and do not waste his time with questions right now nor any of your theories. That can wait until after dinner. Play nicely, you two.”
Tekemuzh wasn’t all that young, but he was still easily young enough to be Ovanobina’s son. “Yes, ma’am.” He looked at the boy. “Get comfortable. This is going to take a while. I’m going to start with impressions, and some of what I say might make little or no sense. Write it all down anyway. We can sort it out later. Got it?”
Kalaket swallowed and nodded. “I don’t have to be near the skeletons, do I?”
“You only have to be near enough to hear everything I say without asking me to repeat it.” He thought the boy might be younger even than he looked, but perhaps if he had been in the towers of an academy his whole life, he might not be used to the darkness the world could provide.
Tekemuzh waited until Kalaket was settled, and then he put his hand on the forehead of the nearest skeleton.
What followed next was in many ways a blur. Tekemuzh knew he was speaking, and he knew he was seeing, but the images and the words flew too quickly for him to notice them other than as a stream.
“It was one at a time. They took the body and laid it against the stone — not here, on the other side of the wall, oh, the wall — and they started the death out there, so that the first blood, so many lines of blood. There’s a circle around the valley and it’s all death, all of it, a line of blood and then here, all of the caches, where they bled into the stone to enforce the seal. What a seal. So many people, slaves? Captives. They forced them against that stone and they spoke some words. I can almost hear them, A-ee-oh-ne-an, Yen-ah-lee-lee-o?” The words came awkwardly off of Tekemuzh’s Calenyen-trained tongue; he kept reaching for consonants that weren’t there.
He repeated the words; on the third try them came smoother, almost as if spoken by another. “Aheoneyan, yenalilioh, thalshailiohlioh. It was an unwilling sacrifice. ‘Pain will do,’ they told her, ‘if the spirit won’t provide.’ And… oh. Oh, the aether was already in the stone. How did they do that? They laid her against the mountain and the mountain held her there. And then, when it had drunk its fill, then she was carried down into the caves. So many caves. All around the valley…” Tekemuzh whimpered quietly. “They pinned them to the ground here, see the way her wrists are, her ankles? And they let them die. The twelve of them, alone here in the dark. And twelve more and twelve more and… twenty-four caves. So many of them.” He gasped and fell back. “Here sister was here, and her niece, and her cousin. She was still alive when they killed her lover. But…” He closed his eyes, so the remaining impressions came to him as clearly as he could.
“They’re not Bitrani, they’re not Calenyena. Not Arran. They’re short and pale, with hair that is white and yellow. Or orange, like the edges of a fire. They’re hairier than the Bitrani, and their clothing is strange, made out of pelts and… I don’t know what it is. She thinks of her wrap as i-ah-o-a-shee, iaoashi, but I don’t know what it means, just that it’s soaking up the blood, how will I wash that out, she thought. But she thinks of the man stabbing her as — foreigner, stranger. They’re not the same people, even though they look the same. They’re…” Tekemuzh gasped and opened his eyes. “They’re in the valley. There’s a valley there, why have we… oh.”
His throat worked and he stared at the skeleton in front of him. Whatever iaoashi was, it had long ago rotted away. She was small and broad-hipped, with a wide forehead and a large crack in her sternum. “They locked the valley,” Tekemuzh whispered. “All those bodies, all that blood. They sealed themselves in.”
He looked up at Kalaket. “Do you think they’re still there?”
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August (Worldbuilding) Challenge Day One: Measurements
It went like this: SeaLemon has this August Doodle Challenge (Tumblr), and it looked interesting, but in that “neat-but-not-quite” sort of way.
I mentioned I wanted to do a Worldbuilding challenge based on the doodle challenge. inventrix offered to make me a modified list.
Day 1 is Measurements. This is a wearable measurement tool from Reiassan, showing several sizes of cord gauge (alphabetical from K to N), a small ruler measuring up to 3 Demai, or a Taiden, a “knot.” A taiden is 1/10 of a gorzhee, a “reach.”
(Day 2 is Climate)
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1149890.html. You can comment here or there.