This is the requested continuation of the following stories:
The RoundTree Siblings Prepare for Thanksgiving
The Family That Knots Together
“Your mother is something else.” Marina glanced at the back seat of WInter’s sensible and spacious sedan, where Mila and Henry were sleeping. “Your family is… is something else.”
Winter smiled, because he thought it would make her uncomfortable if he frowned. “Is that a good thing?” Continue reading
The story that began with this little series…
A Wink…
Nothing Could Possib-lie Go Wrong (Summer)
Places One Doesn’t Go (Winter)
At Home (Spring)
Sight and Sense (Autumn)
…is completed here on Patreon.
The man glared at Summer through the tilted fence panel. He wasn’t a pleasant-looking man; he had stringy hair and a weedy beard, a greasy, pallid complexion and notable body odor. But he was an important man, at least at the moment. “This is a private party!”
Summer’s cheeks were flushed and she was just about ready to die. She’d gone through this fence before — with her mother, when she was very young, then later with Winter and Autumn, and later still, all five of them together. She’d stepped a little sideways, and… what had gone wrong this time?
She coughed. “Sir, I’m sorry… (read on…)
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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1108032.html. You can comment here or there.
This story of Stranded World began as a series of connected vignettes on Dreamwidth, all of which are collected here; the story then continues to an actual conclusion of sorts.
There was a man at the festival with an eye-tattoo that winked.
Autumn hadn’t been sure the first time. There were several beautiful pieces of ink wandering around this ‘fest – it was pushing a hundred degrees out, and everyone was wearing just about as little as they could get away with. And there was this man, topless and wearing short khaki shorts and Birkenstocks, and the eye centered on his spine had a perfectly-shaded iris. And then it was closed. And then there was the pupil again. Continue reading
More or less to ![[personal profile]](http://s.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eseme‘s prompt and a companion to Character Study: Melinda
Summer was always the last to go to sleep.
She liked the quiet moments at the end of the day, the way she could cuddle with a sleepy Bishop and Mellie until, one and then the other, they headed off to their giant cobbled-together bed. She liked stroking their hair and their backs while they watched TV or studied together – sometimes, despite all advice, both at once. She liked sleepy late-night kisses.
And then she strolled the house alone, listening to the noises the old place made, picking up this and that. Sometimes she would whisper charms for her family, charms for her lovers. Sometimes she’d just stay up studying.
Tonight, she wandered out to the back yard and stared up at the stars. It felt like they were watching, reminding her to be good.
Summer stuck her tongue out at them and went back inside, where the lights were warmer and less distant.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1093006.html. You can comment here or there.
I got lots of prompts for the triad but I’ll call this kiarrith‘s.
Title from this Simpsons quote
“So, this is…” Bishop was usually the calm one, but today, he was nervous. He was’t exactly shifting from foot to foot or anything, but that could be because they were walking rather quickly down Main Street, which didn’t leave him room to fidget. “Well, what exactly is it?”
“Well, exactly…” Summer shot him a cheerful grin. “It’s a bunch of things. It’s a craft festival that the townies and the visiting parents love. It’s a music festival after-hours that the students – and some of the townies – like. And its…” She gestured vaguely with both hands.
Mellie picked it up. “It’s a thing for people like your family, right?”
“If you know the right places and the right people, yeah. There are Strand-workers everywhere.” Summer tapped the wooden fence three times in a triangle, and a door swung open. “Like this place.”
“Are you sure…” Bishop hesitated, his hand on the fence.
“Oh, come on,” Summer coaxed. She had her bright smile on, the one that generally made either him or Mellie go along with her plans. “They’re friendly folks, these people. Strand workers almost always are.”
“Hey, who do you kids think you are! This is a private party!”
Summer’s smile slid off her face.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1086184.html. You can comment here or there.
So way back here, I said I wanted to get into the heads of two non-Addergoole side characters.
I asked Cal to pick a setting, and Cal picked Stranded. Which doesn’t have a LOT of background characters.
So we have Melinda, who is dating Summer and Bishop.
Melinda woke up early.
She usually did – Summer liked to sleep as if she’d been running marathons one after another, and Bishop didn’t like to go to bed until practically sunrise. That meant Summer got the middle and Bishop got the outside, and Mellie slipped out of bed while the sun was still just thinking about getting up itself.
She snuck out of the bedroom on bare feet, grabbing a robe as she went. Their roommates wouldn’t be up for another hour or two either, which meant that she had the place to herself, just for a bit.
She settled on the back porch with her History of the Americas textbook, a big mug of tea, and her favorite highlighters. Truth be told, this was half of what she liked about waking up early: this was her time, to be shared with nobody.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1080899.html. You can comment here or there.
It was only Applebee’s, but they were on college student salaries, after all, the food was good enough, and they could take the bus.
Summer sat between Bishop and Mellie, but they’d gotten one of the small round bar tables, so everyone was, technically, between everyone else: best of all worlds.
As a rule, they weren’t that unusual: three college kids, out on a Saturday night. It wasn’t until Summer stole a small kiss from Mellie that anyone looked askance at them, and it wasn’t until Bishop responded by stealing his own kiss from Mellie that someone whispered to someone else at their table.
Summer didn’t mind the stares. She was nineteen, she wasn’t famous or looking for a Professional Job, and if people wanted to stare, it wouldn’t be likely to hurt her at all.
But Mellie, the stares made her uncomfortable. Summer stole another kiss and pressed a blessing into it. Nothing to see here.
If making your girlfriend comfortable wasn’t using your powers for good, she didn’t know what was.
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I asked for Non-Addergoole Prompts here; this is to ![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rix_scaedu‘s prompt mashed up with ankewehner‘s
Stranded World has a landing page here.
🕯️
It was the season for candles. Autumn settled in her van/RV, approximately eight thousand miles from anyone she knew, and lit a candle on her table.
Just one candle, and hers was red. This was how this thing was done. She sat down on her beanbag, and studied the flame.
🕯️
It was the time for the flame. Winter excused himself from the quiet social obligations of the party to set a glass candleholder in the North-facing window.
He pulled up a chair in front of the window, and settled in before lighting the candle. Just one, and his was white. There was an order to this, as in all things.
🕯️
It was just about that time. Spring kissed New Boy deeply, did something somewhat obscene to Slightly Less New Boy, and left the two of them to entertain each other or complain about video games.
She dug the candle – spring green – out of her underwear drawer and stuck it in a metal can in her East-facing window. There was a way to do things, but she was the tangler, so she added two birthday candles for contrast.
She lit all three and stared into the flame.
🕯️
Everything happened when it had to, and in its own time. This just happened to be the right time to light a candle.
Summer was alone, tonight; she had arranged it that way. She lit the orange-yellow pillar candle and set it, carefully, on the plate from home. Things went the way they needed to, and this way needed one light, and no more.
Summer stared into the flame and thought of home.
Icons all by the wonderful djinni
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They had a yard.
Summer had grown up with a yard, of course, the rolling acres of the RoundTree estate, and Melinda had grown up in the ‘burbs – but Bishop had spent his whole life in apartments and high-rises.
Now, with the giant house they were renting (they’d gotten lucky, but, as Melinda pointed out, they usually got lucky when they really needed to. Summer was their good luck charm, and she was totally fine with that), they had space, they had a kitchen, and they had a back yard.
“You’re sure the landlord’s okay with a fire pit?” Bishop moved the cement pavers around one more time. “Right here look good to you?”
“I think it ought to all be one inch to the left,” Melinda teased. “Bishie, it’s fine.”
“It’s more than fine. It’s beautiful.” Summer grabbed one side of the metal pit while Melinda grabbed the other. “Just like you, Bishie.”
“I’m not entirely certain I approve of that nickname.”
“Too bad.” Melinda’s smile was the sort of brilliant warmth that always distracted Summer; whilst carrying a large metal bucket, however, was not the time to be distracted. She focused on the firepit. “And Mrs. Scrooge said it was fine. Pretty much, anything that doesn’t hurt the property is fine – including thought-out improvements – as long as our rent arrives on the first of every month before noon.”
“That specific?” Bishop belatedly hurried over, only to realize that there really wasn’t an easy way for three people to carry a round object. “Are you – do you-”
“We’re not delicate flowers, Bish.” The lilies in Melinda’s hair didn’t so much belie her assertion as highlight it. “Just spot us so we get this centered in your lovely stone circle?”
Summer could no more help the grin growing on her face than she could help the rainfall or the sun shining – less, since she knew charms for both of those. There was something about Melinda, something – fiery. “I love you.”
Sometimes, she still felt a moment of panic when she said things like that. You weren’t supposed to love the girl. You weren’t supposed to say it. She’d gotten burned before.
But Mellie just grinned back. “I know.” She made kissy faces across the firepit. “Let’s put this thing down so I can remind you exactly how much.”
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” It was an easy carry – it was an empty large metal bucket, it wasn’t all that heavy – and a slightly more complicated getting-it-centered dance, Bishop trying to steer and mostly failing.
And then they had all wiped their hands on their jeans – or each other’s jeans or the grass, or all three – Summer found herself being grabbed into a kiss.
She drew a luck charm in the air behind Mellie’s back, just a little boost, not that they needed it, and gave in to the kiss, a long thing, with tongue and just the right amount of nose-rubbing. Mellie had a bubble butt, as fun to squeeze as it was to watch from behind.
Bishop draped an arm around each of their shoulders, and Summer opened her eyes, realizing only then that she’d closed them. “We have a yard.” The sun was setting red and fiery behind her lovers, and they had a yard. “All is right with the world.”
This fills the “Evening” square on my ![[community profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ladiesbingo card and was prompted by eseme. It is set in Stranded World setting, and Bishop, Mellie, and Summer have been featured in several stories already.
556 words by http://www.wordcounter.net/
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Written to alexseanchai‘s prompt to my mini-prompt-call on Gender-Funkiness & also serving as an Iconflash for this icon!
“…and this is Add. She? He?” Bishop turned to the person standing next to him, seemingly oblivious to Summer’s embarrassed cringe. You couldn’t just… could you?
Add, who had black eyeliner, black hair, a black lace shirt, and black combat pants, looked thoughtful about the matter, hand on chin. “It’s a full moon, isn’t it?” Add glanced out the window at the sun. “Let’s go with they.”
“Right. They’re looking for a place to stay for the year, and, well, since we’re looking for another roommate or two…”
Summer studied Add. Add, in turn, studied Summer. They had perfect eyebrows, black lipstick, and a sardonic smile that said goth to Summer. “The pronouns aren’t going to be an issue, are they?”
Summer raised her own eyebrows right back. “Pronouns? Bishop hasn’t told you anything at all about us, has he? No. The pronouns aren’t going to be a problem.” She borrowed a smile from Basil, the “you poor dear” one. “We’re theater people, come on. We read Shakespeare.”
“Summm…” Bishop sighed. Summer cringed inwardly. She hadn’t meant to get her hackles up, but it was showing, wasn’t it? She peeked at Add.
Add was… grinning. Well, that was probably good. They really needed to fill that room. “I like her.”
Summer relaxed.
“I like her a lot.“
“Not too much, please,” Bishop teased.
Summer had to agree: “the bed’s full enough already.”
Summer & Bishop, along with their girlfriend Melinda, are characters in Stranded World. Their relationship started with this story. Basil is Summer’s theatre friend, who shows up quite frequently.
I am on a quest to write a flash to every one of the icons djinni has drawn for me.
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