“We already have monitoring in place…”
“Clearly is it not enough!” It was a roar. It needed to be more. Caitrin dropped her voice to a very quiet, calm, analytic tone. “This cannot happen again.”
(to @Kuro_Neko’s commissioned request for the staff yelling at Regine.)
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/791436.html. You can comment here or there.
This takes place sometime during the “sign-up” phase of the Addergoole project – ~mid-to-late 1970’s. It was written in response to ![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clare_dragonfly‘s comments here and here
Addergoole has a landing page here
There were very few pure-bloods in Regine’s Addergoole Project. She had very little interest in finding out what happened when you bred two pure bloods, for one – they had been finding that out, over and over again, since the gods first arrived. She wanted to know what you could get from paired half-breeds.
For another, she knew that the pure bloods would eventually become distressed, when they learned of her project. It had not been all that long that half-breeds were in any way considered part of Shenera Endraae, and to go about deliberately making hundreds more half-breeds – all with the aim of educating and arming them – she had not needed Michael and Luca to tell her that somebody would be angry when they found out.
She had, however, not entirely anticipated the screaming, shouting rage or a Mara and a Daeva struggling through her wards and forcing their way to her office.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The shout was loud enough to rattle the windows.
“Come out here and talk to us or we’ll burn this forsaken place to the ground!”
Regine pushed three buttons on her wall – not that she believed anyone would need a call to inform them they had guests – and stepped out onto her porch. “How can I help you?”
The Mara was the woman, a tall, angry Mara – if that was not redundant – with her blue wings spread wide. “My son told me about your little ‘project.’ What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
Regine thought back along the list of names she had seen. Blue wings, probably, or something like it, and the Daeva had horns that resembled an antelope’s. “Silvestre.” He’s been one of the ones who’d turned down her offer. “A handsome man, and very bright.”
“And a half-breed.“
“And wouldn’t you be interested in knowing why?” Regine had been given more than a little opportunity to practice this speech. She watched the steam bleed off of the woman’s anger.
“…what?”
“Your son was born half-breed, when you two are clearly full-bloods. Wouldn’t you like to know why?”
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/715132.html. You can comment here or there.
March is Women’s History Month, and so for March I’m doing vignettes about or questions regarding any of my female characters, one/day from the 10th-31st.
The prompt post is here; please add more prompts 😉
This one comes from [Bad username: thnidu,]Addergoole, which also has a landing page here. (Stay tuned for the entirely-new rewrite of Book One of Addergoole, coming soon!)
This is a combination of nature and nurture.
To begin with, the Grigori, the bloodline of which Regine is a member, tend to be very analytic. They’re smart, some would say brilliant, and to them was given the guidance of mankind (some say) in matters of the mind.
This scientific bend tends to lead Grigori into ignoring the social and physical aspects of their development – they have the Mara for physical protection, so need no focus there, and since there is an unspoken disdain within the Grigori for the Daeva, who are those who inspire (and thus very social), social skills are seen as secondary.
Regine’s particular family line – her father, her older brother, herself – are very very science-and-math-focused, to the point where they often have difficulty understanding other people’s emotions (or, on the rare occasion that they notice their having them, their own). Regine’s father in particular discouraged all expressions of emotion as unneeded and a waste of time, so that from a very early age, Regine learned not to express feelings, and, after a time, not to acknowledge them even to herself.
In a crew with a Mara and a Daeva, Regine often feels the need to act even more Grigori-stereotypical; to be sure to show not the faintest shred of bias or emotion, to be as scientific and as analytic as possible, to balance out the often-irrational and hair-trigger-seeming emotions of her friends. This leads – along with an inability to cope with failure – to an even more repressed Regine by the time we reach the books.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/698400.html. You can comment here or there.
This takes place sometime during the “sign-up” phase of the Addergoole project – ~mid-to-late 1970’s. It was written in response to clare_dragonfly‘s comment here.
Addergoole has a landing page here
“Take part in a Grigori breeding project? What are you, nuts?”
Regine had been anticipating responses like that; it was one reason (although not in any way close to her primary reason – they were her crew, and the closest thing to friends she had) that her team consisted of not just a Grigori, but a Mara and a Daeva as well.
She had not truly been anticipating the next rejection she received.
“Wait, you’re trying to breed more half-breeds? Why would you do that?”
“The term half-breed is certainly problematic, but it’s the term most commonly in use right now…”
“Forget terminology!” The man talking to her was… scruffy. He was the closest thing to a hobo Regine had ever seen in an Ellehemaei, and he had a body odor that was hard to ignore. “I’m talking about the way these kids’ll be treated!”
“They’ll have a full, extensive education with well-qualified professors and Mentors. They’ll receive every benefit a full-blooded child could hope for…”
“Except that they’ll be half-breeds. You might not know what it’s like, lady, with your perfect Grigori everything, but most of the full-blooded true Ellehemaei out there, they hate my kind.”
He had not dropped his Mask; now he did, revealing what Regine already knew, shaggy doglike ears and a jawline shaped more like a muzzle. “No, thank you. If I’m going to sire any kids, I’ll either do it with humans so human the kid’ll never Change, or if I find a fae that will have me, with purebloods so the kid’ll have a better chance than his dad.”
“But…”
“The answer is no, madam. I’d rather starve.”
Regine was left staring at his tail as he left. She was fairly certain he would not have listened nor consented even if she had managed to get out her last sentence.
But I’m trying to change the view of half-breeds in society.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/694764.html. You can comment here or there.
This is to clare_dragonfly‘s prompt to this January card for ![[community profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
origfic_bingo.
It fills the “promises made” slot, and is in Addergoole, which has a landing page here
“I promise you,” Regine had said, when she had first locked a collar around Ambrus’ neck, “that as long as you are mine I will take care of you.”
It hadn’t been the promise that he’d wanted, but at the time, he hadn’t knows that he could want things, and so he had taken it as a kindness and a courtesy.
“The children you sire here will all go to Addergoole, that I promise you.”
That had been over a year later, long enough that Ambrus could think about wanting things, long enough that he’d begun to count on his fingers the number of times he had taken a woman to her bed.(128)
But Addergoole was an abstraction to him, a project, and the children he might be siring, even the one he had already held and named, they were all even more abstract. His mistress was smiling at him.
And it wasn’t the promise he wanted, still, and he did not think he could ask for things, so he took the promise as a kindness and a courtesy, and thanked his mistress sweetly.
“I promise you that my use for you is far from over.”
The promise came nearly fifteen years later, as Regine was wrapping up what she called “the initial phase of the Addergoole project,” already gearing up for “the educational phase.” Ambrus hadn’t, exactly, asked for that promise, but she had offered him freedom, and he had panicked, thinking, now that the initial phase was done, she was sending him out into the world.
It wasn’t the promise he wanted, but by now, he was used to the way his mistress spoke, and the bond of Keeping was pushing heavily on him. So he nodded, and accepted it for what she’d actually meant, and moved on.
“I promise you.” This time she was swallowing, hard, having trouble with her words. He had noticed, by now, so many years later, that she rarely made promises like this: only for him, and even more rarely her crew, did she speak so casually. “I promise you, Ambrus, that should you ever wish to come back, you will always have a place in my home.”
That wasn’t the promise he wanted. But Ambrus had learned to wait.
“…and in my heart.”
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/682348.html. You can comment here or there.
This is a continuation of Planning and
Microbit One, set in Year 43 of the Addergoole School, for rix_scaedu‘s commission.
Regine had practice remaining calm in the face of volatile personalities. She had plenty of practice, in fact, with this particular volatile personality; she and Luca had been working together, alongside Michael, for centuries.
It did not, thus, particularly faze her when Luke glared at her with another wide flap of his wings, although she did note that he must be particularly upset, as he normally was more mindful of her paperwork.
“We are doing good here, Luca,” she repeated, “both for our students and for the world.”
“Tell that to the ones that we don’t catch in time.” It came out as a snarl; that was a little excessive even for Luca. Regine allowed her eyes to drift down to the papers for a brief moment. “No, wait, don’t. I don’t think I could stand to watch you preach that sanctimonious bullshit to someone who’s stuck in a bad Keeping.”
“Luca.” Regine coughed, an altogether unnecessary affectation, but, then, she was not a robot, no matter what some people would suggest. “When we started this project, you understood the difficulties, and you agreed with its necessity.” She pushed a pile of papers forward. “The statistics suggest that sixty-three percent of these students would not be alive if it were not for our school.”
“Try telling that to one of your children after they’ve been raped, why don’t you?” Luke’s snarl had gone to a growl. “Oh, wait.” He wasn’t flapping anymore. For some reason, Regine found that worrisome. “Your kids somehow never end up with that sort of problem.”
Ah.
“Luca, just because a child is of our bloodline is no reason to let ourselves become distractible. It is important to remain unbiased…”
“FUCK unbiased!”
And yet, his wings did not flare. His feet were spread a little bit apart, his hands were easy at his sides, and his wings were staying folded against his back.
That, Regine realized, with something of chill in her heart, was battle stance. And despite the shout of his profanity, his voice was otherwise quiet: conserving energy.
She didn’t think he would continue, but once again, he surprised her.
“It isn’t our job to remain unbiased, Regine. It isn’t our job to treat these children as subjects, separated by their Changes and genealogy and nothing else. If we’d wanted to do that – if you’d wanted to do that – you shouldn’t have sold it as a school.”
He took a step forward. It took every ounce of Regine’s not-inconsiderable self-control to not back up. “But we did. And we have been selling it as a school for generations now. As such.” He rolled his shoulders and his head before continuing. “As such, Regine, it is our responsibility to treat these students as people.
“As Students.” He continued, with another step forward. “Not just because they are our children – because you made damn sure each and every one of us contributed to the project so that we’d stay emotionally invested, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” There was no shame in that.
“Yes.” His mimic sounded angry, for all of that. “Not just because these children are our family, Regine, but because we are their teachers and Mentors.”
His voice dropped into something low and smokey. Regine could not, for a moment, remember where she had heard it before.
“This is what we’re going to do, Regine.” He’d taken another step forward. If he had a weapon, he could be skewering her with it about now. “You are going to take Students. A full cy’ree, every year. Starting now; I’m sure we can rearrange things.”
Ah, yes. That’s where she’d heard the voice. Regine swallowed.
“Students.” She tried not to sound nervous; she failed. That was interesting.
“And you are going to teach a class. A full rotation class, every day. Don’t give me shit about your responsibilities, Regine; the world is over. There’s a lot fewer people to manipulate than there used to be.”
Regine nodded. “As you wish it.” The last time she’d heard Luke talk like that, people had died.
A large number of people.
“If you feel that will help.”
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/676168.html. You can comment here or there.
So, I was looking at ysabetwordsmith‘s prompt here, and I asked Twitter for some ideas and then um you ended up with four microficlets.
One is Canon, Two could be, Three Might be, and Four is a definite AU.
All are Addergoole.
One
Luke was flapping in Regine’s office. Again. She set aside her papers and regarded her crewmate.
“Have you seen the reports?”
“I’ve seen the films.”
“Not those.” She tilted her head at a small pile of mostly-hand-written notes. “Those are from Williamsburg; the stack under them is from the former Washington State. Places whose survival has been smoother because of the presence of Addergoole graduates.”
She gestured at another pile. “These are the fatality figures for one hundred selected areas. Ten of them have active Addergoole graduates.
“Not to mention,” of course, “the survival rates of our graduates vs. that of the general population.”
Luke flapped again, but Regine was unfazed. “We are doing good here, Luca. We continue to do good for the world and for our students.”
Two
“You just have to learn to survive without him. It’s a one-day-at-a-time process, but you can do it.”
The matron was very kind. Keven appreciated her kindness, at the same time as he wanted to rip out her lying tongue. It was quite a contradiction, but, then again, this whole place was a contradiction.
“I’m bound to him.” He’d explained before. He’d explained every day he was in this place. “He’s my Keeper and he owns me. Without his say-so, I can’t just ‘let go.'”
“I know you think that, but it’s just a process of brainwashing that we can reverse. But you have to be willing.”
In the room next door, someone screamed. Keven felt like joining them.
Three
“It’s always better to be honest.”
The Addergoole South project wasn’t an official branch of the school, yet, but there were students they could pull in, and they were hoping for official accreditation soon –
“Teacher? I don’t think I should have to learn this. It’s boring and, besides, I’m only going to be a despot when I graduate.”
“No, Morley. I’m not interested in wearing your collar. You smell like a dead bat.”
“…and that’s how we’ve set up the breeding program for maximum efficacy and best results. We got the idea out of a science fiction novel…”
– soon. As soon as they had the wrinkles worked out.
Four
Luke burst into the room, wings flaring and sword in his hand. “Put down the girl.”
Angus looked up at the Mara, then back down to his Kept. “…what?”
“Don’t act stupid, boy, you do well enough without acting. Giada, come here, be a good girl. Angus, you’re going to release her now.”
“…but I’m happy.”
“…but I didn’t do anything wrong to her.”
“That’s not what the tapes show. After what you did to her in the shower-“
“You were watching me in the shower?” The tiny girl shoved Luke and darted back to her Keeper. “Angus! Angus, he was watching me. In the shower.“
“I’m always watching everyone.”
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/667301.html. You can comment here or there.
This is to rix_scaedu‘s prompt here to my February Giraffe Call.
Regine and Luca are characters in Addergoole.
Warning: cold bitch
Year 43 of the Addergoole School; 26 years after the Apocalypse began
A month and a half – six weeks and three days – into the school year was a perfect time to review genetic data, and thus Regine sat in her office, studying her charts and lists.
By this point in the year, almost all of the new students had Changed and, via Dr. Caitrin’s extensive notes, Regine was placing the children in their genealogies.
“Fascinating. Wings again.” She made a note on the print-out, not so much old-fashioned anymore as back around again, and then another in her notebook. “And antlers, there, of course.” Of course. It would be interesting to see how dilute Aelfgar’s line had to be to avoid some sort of head decoration – if, of course, it ever got diluted with non-horned lines. There had been the one, but that was a special circumstance… And there, more wings.
This whole process would be far more convenient if she could simply tell the subjects who to breed with. Or, better yet, remove the subjects from it altogether except as egg and sperm donors. It was likely she could find plenty of willing surrogate mothers, and the creche would allow her standardized upbringing.
There were times when the Law was simply inconvenient to the progress of science.
There were, of course, things she could do. Manipulation was not something she excelled at, but she definitely had a grasp on bribery, and, in this day in age, anyone was susceptible to bribery. She made a few notes; not everyone was paired off yet. There were a few pairings that would be beneficial this year. If she couldn’t make them happen, perhaps Luca or Michael could.
Her door slammed open; if Regine believed in coincidence, it would have been an interesting one that Luca Hunting-Hawk was standing there.
| Buy an Extension |
| 500 words $5.00 USD 750 words $7.50 USD 1000 words $10.00 USD 1250 words $12.50 USD 1500 words $15.00 USD 1750 words $17.50 USD 2000 words $20.00 USD 100 words $1.00 USD |
| More of What? |
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/664900.html. You can comment here or there.
To Sky’s request to this call for Addergoole prompts.
Between Years 19 and 20 of the Addergoole School
Luke’s voice still wasn’t up to par, but he had gone to the wedding, of course. His Student had invited him – and she and Hayden deserved this, more than Luke had words for, even when his voice was properly working.
When he came back, Mike was waiting for him. “I’ve been thinking.”
It had been the years for it. Regine had been meddling more than normal; she had pushed them to meddle more than normal. What had resulted was a cluster fuck that, if they were lucky, the students affected would eventually forgive them for.
“Me, too. I’ve got an idea.”
They didn’t need much more conversation than that; they had known each other for quite a while. A few more words, a plan, and then it was Mike (who still had a voice, who had not been shouting at Regine until he was hoarse) who presented it.
“You need Students.”
“I have had Students in the past.” Regine’s normally-calm-and-collected voice and still body posture did not change much, but there was a tilt in her head and a minute quaver in her voice.
“You had one Student, Regine. We mean a full cy’ree – at least four students – every year.”
“This will take time from my other projects.”
“This school is your project.” Mike’s voice rose up a little louder, a littler firmer. Luke watched with interest. It hadn’t been the Daeva doing the shouting – but he had a feeling he’d missed some things along the way.
He’d missed a lot, this year; he’d gotten enmeshed in one Student’s concerns.
He coughed, and tried for a quiet voice, because nothing louder was going to work anyway. “You need Students because you’re too far from the problems. You need to be emotionally invested.” He sounded like Maria. Well, there were worse people to sound like.
“I do not become emotionally invested. It is part of my strength.”
Mike fielded that one. “It’s become the school’s weakness, Regine. You focus on the theoretical and ignore the human.”
“We are none of us human.” Her voice was beginning to have inflection, and Mike’s was losing it.
“And that, Regine, is the problem in a nutshell. Students. A real cy’ree, four or more. Every year.”
“And if I do not?”
They had been expecting this. Neither of them answered. A heartbeat passed. Another. Another.
“Very well.” Regret and something that Luke could not identify tinged her voice. “Four or more Students. Every year, beginning this September.”
It was only a beginning, but it was that, at least.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/615687.html. You can comment here or there.
This takes place some time (2 years or so) after The Year Cya Didn’t Keep Anyone.
She cleaned the dust of two years of hard labor off of herself before she went back to school; she re-dyed her hair the brilliant red it had been for most of her life and found clean, nice clothes. When she walked up to the wards and knocked, she didn’t look like the scruffy girl who had been pulling a city out of the earth by the force of her mind. She looked like a responsible adult.
She didn’t think it would help enough, but she thought that, considering the Administration, to not put on the facade would hurt too much.
She gained an audience with the Queen of Addergoole, Director Regine Avonmorea, by the simple expedient of asking. That was, Cynara had a feeling, the last easy part of this mission.
“Jae’Red Doomsday.” The Director nodded her head politely.
“Sa’Lady of the Lake.” Cya responded to the lack of inflection with an equally bland response.
“How can I help you today?” If Cya were to attempt to anthropomorphize, she would say the Director sounded tired.
“I came to offer you help.” Without further prelude – it was wasted on the Grigori Director – Cya laid out the carefully-chosen plans and diagrams, staff folios and curricula. “I’ve built a school.”
The Director almost looked surprised. A trick of the light, Cya assumed. She flipped through the pages, one at a time, either pretending to look through them or – more likely, considering that she had never showed any interest in pretense before – actually considering them. “This is a blueprint for something to be built?”
“This is the plan for something already built.” It was missing enough information, of course, to be no use in, say, an invasion, and suggested several things that were just not true, but it was a plan for the school.
“With suggestions for study plans and staff, I see.” She continued to flip the pages. “Heavily centered on your Crew.”
“As is Addergoole on yours.” She spoke levelly, calmly. Nothing explosive here. Nothing at all.
“I see you have a few spots left open.”
“If this project is to be part of the Addergoole system, then there will of course be room for other Addergoole graduates, or other teachers that you feel would be appropriate. Perhaps some of your core staff are looking for a little sunlight, and could be rotated out? I’m aware you have done that once or twice over the years.”
“You would be. Your grandsons are in school now?”
“One grandson, and a granddaughter, at the moment.” The threat was implicit, of course; Regine would never be so gauche as to spell it out.
“And this project of yours. You built it before making the offer?”
“I did.” She forbore any explanation or defense, although she had plenty of both.
“Very interesting.” The Director closed the notebook with a rather final-sounding thud. “You had in mind opening another branch, as with Addergoole East?”
“I did. Different students benefit from different learning environments.”
“They do. And your great-grandchildren…”
“Would have their school chosen by their mothers, of course, among the Addergoole options.”
“Of course. And, refresh me, how many of those mothers currently live on the Boom ranch?”
“Currently? Two.”
“Of course.” Regine brushed her hand over the book. “It’s a very good plan, Cynara, jae’Red Doomsday. But I’m afraid I am not interested with engaging in a partnership with Boom.”
Cya had not expected she would be, but she had allowed herself to hope. “May I ask why not?”
“Your crew has always been explosive. Revolutionary.”
“Explosive, I will grant. In our teens, we were very volatile.” We. It covered it well enough. “But revolutionary? There’s hardly anything left to revolt against.”
“A situation which I’m certain your crew could change, had they the desire.” It was a pat answer that didn’t actually answer anything. “No, jae’Doomsday, I do not think your Crew are the proper people for such an endeavor. I’m afraid you built your school in vain.”
“In vain?” Cya allowed herself a smile. “No, certainly not. There are fae who are not part of the Addergoole project, still. Less than there were, but they exist.” It was not a threat, not quite. Cynara was no more gauche (here and now) than her hostess.
“Your descendants are still promised to Addergoole.”
“Of course.” Cya smiled more broadly now. “All of the Addergoole-born descendants of Boom and their allies are promised to Addergoole, as it has always been.” She was un-threatened. She was un-offended. She had a lot of allies. And they all had children.
She watched the implication reach the Grigori’s computer that she used in place of a mind. All those grandchildren, all those great-grandchildren, raised by Boom.
Their kids had been impressive enough, en masse. Their grandkids…
“I wish you luck in your project, Cynara.”
“And I, you, in yours.”
She left before their threats could grow less civil.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/523284.html. You can comment here or there.