The good news is: we’ve isolated the biological/mineral combination that makes the ocean water joy-juice.
The bad news is: It’s because Lei found some standing water in isolated rock bowls that made the same compound.
The really bad news: Standing water is as dangerous here as it is anywhere, plus the dangers of the joy-juice.
The tolerably decent news: Lei’s knee-highs make pretty good assistant nursemaids. They aren’t letting him leave bed until he’s healthy again.
First: Spoils of War I: Surrender
Previous: House
Aran came down from the upstairs bathroom scrubbed, looking like another person. He had even found a razor and cleaned up his scruffy beard to something that reminded her of a goatee. “Guessing they left in a hurry.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Haven’t used anything like those soaps in a long time. I smell like a funeral.”
“You smell like flowers.” She stepped up close and sniffed his hair; he froze but didn’t complain. “Well, like the chemical equivalent, at least. Not bad.”
He leaned down and sniffed her hair. “You, too. Like one of those days in spring where everything is going crazy.” Continue reading
Planetary Day 466
Now that we have the pink-yaks settled to taking a harness, we’ve been working on an actual shelter for next winter. Our habitat is clearly not quite enough, so we’ve skipped to the end of the Exploration Manual and have started making a home.
You know, I wasn’t actually surprised to dig down and find that the clay was pink.
Finding silca sand that made pink glass was slightly more surprising, and means that our windows may be letting in, ah, rose-colored light.
The way the last winter went, we might need every bit of optimism we can get.
So, as a thank-you, I rolled up a story.
Now, this is a fun set. If you look at this image, you can see that the first option is a cage. Continue reading
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous: Waking
🌳🏚🌳
They drank coffee together, smiling at each other and, at least in Mélanie’s case, thinking of how many ways the day could go. If he were like her earlier masters…. but he wasn’t.
She cleared her throat. “If there are things in the kitchen, I could cook breakfast,” she offered. “And then you can tell me what, specifically, you want me to do over the next couple days. I imagine,” she chuckled, a little nervously, but trying to still sound casual, “that you don’t want me to clean up the yard.”
“No, sadly, not that. I think she would like it better – but I think she understands the need for the mess, too. If you want to make breakfast, I won’t argue. The ‘fridge runs – you know what a ‘fridge is?” Continue reading
They had given her a plinth.
They collected the most interesting members of every family, and for them, she was very interesting indeed.
There were three of her distance cousins who also had plinths, but hers was the highest and the most decorated. And if there was a chain, and she could not swim that far from her plinth, well, many others had chains as well, in this land. It seemed to her, watching the land from her water-bound pedestal, that there were more people with chains than without. Continue reading
For DaHob, a ficlet of Tír na Cali.
“So… you’re pretty normal?”
As far as come-on lines went, Barty had definitely heard worse. He’d heard better a couple times, sure, but while he was okay-looking, he wasn’t usually the hottest guy in the bar and definitely wasn’t the richest in any room.
Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been careful. Maybe it had been the way she clicked her hair over a bare shoulder. Maybe it had been the way she smiled like he was very, very important to her.
Whatever it had been, it had gotten him in her bed, and that had been, well. Barty wasn’t the sort to say things like “mind-blowing,” but… his mind was pretty blown.
And now, now he was sitting on bleachers with fifty other Americans, wearing collars and sweats and all of them feeling a little uncomfortable.
“The purpose of this mission is to acquaint Californian agents with American customs. To that end, every one of you is going to have a house, a job, and several assignments. You are going to have two weeks to settle in, and then you will be shadowed by Californian agents. Do you understand?”
The woman speaking was tall, a valkyrie, and she looked deadly. Standing to one side of her was the girl Barty had gone home with.
Looking at her, he had to admit he’d probably go home with her again.
Someone else’s hand rose. Someone shouted out a question.
“Why should we help you?”
“Well. Because the options are to take this service, which has a certain amount of leeway, or, considering the qualities for which you were acquired—”
So… you’re pretty normal?
“–will likely end up being field work.”
Barty sighed. Sometimes, he’d fantasized about being kidnapped by a beautiful Californian woman. He looked down at his little book of assignments. He hadn’t imagined it would end up with him being an accountant.
At least they’d given him a promotion.
First: Running in the Bear Empire
Previous: Rainclouds in the Bear Empire
Next: Arrows in the Bear Empire
Deline hadn’t had time or the right environment to make her protective shield very big; she had spent the energy she had on making it strong instead. The line of force, a wobbling red-orange from inside, gave them just enough room to lie down, if they lay very close to each other. Standing up wouldn’t work, except in the one spot where the half-wall went all the way up to the ceiling joists; she had used the walls as two of her delimiters.
“What….” Carrone ducked as the first hail hit the outside of the half-house and bounced off of their shelter. “What?” he repeated. “What is this devil-begotten place that you call home, woman? The sky is throwing ice at us! And we – we are in-” He looked around. “It’s a magical tent, isn’t it? That’s all it is.” Continue reading