Tag Archive | prompt: origfic

The Storm

For @DaHob’s prompt to my December Bingo Card – it fills the “Storm” square.

Addergoole has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ; the original series lives here.

Amaya has shown up before in Don’t Cry, Baby.

“The storm is at your command. What do you do with it?”

Amaya turned to look at Professor Valerian. Stare, really.

“I make it rain, Professor.”

“No. You made it rain when you were a child. When you were beginning to be a student, you made it rain indoors. Now, Amaya -“

“It’s a year later?”

“And what have you learned in that year?”

Amaya stretched. “To be careful.” She wiggled her fingers. “To be very careful with things more fragile than I and with things more powerful than I. I’ve learned Words.” She let her favorite ones roll off her tongue. Yaku. Kaana. And of course Tempero.” Water, Air, and Control. “I can push the weather with those.”

“You can. And you’ve been studying meteorology under myself, Professor Pelletier, and Professor Kairos.” The professor was watching Amaya, her expression patient. Amaya dug deeper.

“I have.” She nodded slowly. “Which means that I can use Idu-” She didn’t like that word, the one that meant Know, as much as the others “-to understand the storm. I mean, if there was real weather here.”

“I did tell you to bring a jacket.” Professor Valerian was, for the first time, wearing a coat herself – it was brown, with a thick velvety texture to it.

“You did.” Amaya slipped into hers. She’d had to buy it from the Store; the Village, despite being in South Dakota, rarely got cold enough to justify such a thing, and Amaya had come from a home far more southern than this. It was sleek and blue, the color of rain on the water. “And I did.”

She knew better than to ask too many questions. Professor Valerian liked certain questions – but only certain ones.

“Good. Let’s go, then.” The professor began walking, and Amaya followed.

It wasn’t long before the Professor was murmuring something to thin air – not a Working, Amaya didn’t think, but something like an introduction – and they were stepping out of the semi-controlled environment of the Village.

And into weather. It tickled at Amaya’s skin and brushed at her lungs, teased her and taunted her and grabbed at her fingers. There were clouds in the sky and wind in the air; there was a thunderstorm waiting to happen, just on the edge of the horizon.

“So.” Professor Valerian was smiling. Somewhere, her hair had come undone, and it flickered out in wild curls. “The storm is at your command. What do you do with it?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/672732.html. You can comment here or there.

Outnumbered

Feb14

To eseme‘s prompt to my January orig-fic card. This fills the “Outnumbered” slot.

Nila, Tros, Allan and Susan are part of my Fae Apoc setting; its landing page is here.

They’ve shown up in Hey you Kids get off my lawn!, Leaving Town, A New Flower

“Asset count.” Nila stepped back against the cliff, putting her children behind her.

“We have a cliff,” Allan offered. “And you have your spear and your gun and Tros has his sword and knife. And I have a stick.”

“Good, kiddo. And they have -”

“Twelve people and a truck.”

“Very good. Now, can you see anyplace for you and your sister to hide?”

“There’s this little cave back here.”

“Atta boy. Take Susan, there you go.” She made sure her kids were wiggled into the cave, then looked over at Tros. “Well.”

“I promised to help protect your kids and watch your back. These people don’t look like they’ll be nice to your kids.” He was trying to sound brave, but she could see the way his knuckles were turning white as he gripped his sword.

“This wasn’t in the deal. I’ll release you from your promise, if you want.”

“No.” His retort was sharp. “I promised. And you healed me. So… what’ve we got?”

“A cliff, a sword, and two small children. And they’re coming.”

“Right. Back against the cave and here we go.” She started chanting. When in doubt, her Mentor had taught her, hit them as hard as you could before they knew you had a fist.

Nila was a healer and a gardener; Tros was a wood- and stone-worker, an artist. Neither of them had trained primarily in combat. The team in front of them looked paramilitary, headed by someone who wasn’t bothering to Mask, and with two other obvious fae in the team.

Healers could do some pretty terrifying things with bodies, and with two people Working wood in their group, they had quite a bit of control of the fae-poisons of hawthorn and rowan.

The hedge grew up around their attackers in a split second, and kept growing, taller and tighter and most of all thornier. Blood spurting from the attackers fed the hedge, which only grew hungrier.

It didn’t stop them all, of course, and more seemed to keep coming, attack after attack. But Tros was better with the sword than Nila had expected, and she was getting very good at cutting the enemy’s feet out from under them.

“You cheat.” The soldier was missing half of his body, but it didn’t stop him from fighting. Nila danced out of his way and poked at him with Allan’s stick.

“We were outnumbered six to one. Now… we’re not.”

~*~

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/668520.html. You can comment here or there.

Balancing Odds

Feb5

For kunama_wolf‘s prompt to my December Bingo Card – it fills the “evening the odds” square.

Addergoole has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ; the original series lives here.

1800, somewhere in England

Feu Drake eyed the woman in front of him over his tea. “You are an interesting woman.”

“Thank you.” She sipped her tea in turn, decorous despite the shackles on her wrists. “And you are an interesting young man… Ignazio, was it?”

“That’s as good a name as any.”

“‘Fire,’ jae’Fire-Drake. You are not interested in subtlety, are you?”

“I am not certain jae is appropriate here, Miss… Attwater, was it?”

“Du’Nicor.”

“Ah, yes. Maya Attwater, named the Nicor. You liked that better than knucker, or you were Named when the word was still nicor?“

“You’re a well-educated young man, aren’t you?”

“I endeavor to be. Although I would argue the young in any company but yours.” He sipped his tea again – it was a very nice blend – and smirked at the woman.

“Are you calling me old, Ignazio?”

“Far be it from me to impugn my elders.”

“At this rate, I’m going to believe you don’t actually like me.” Her shackles clattered as she sipped her tea. “You do get such good tea. however do you do it?”

“I own a tea room, Miss Attwater. It comes with the territory.”

“And such an interesting occupation that is for one of your lineage…”

“But you presume again.”

“I am known to be presumptuous. Now, tell me, are these silly shackles really necessary?”

“Miss Attwater, you are known to be several things. One of them is, indeed, presumptuous. Another is that you are almost universally fatal to the men you spend time with. And, as you have expressed some interest in spending some time with me, in, I believe you said, seeing what there was to see when you got this suit off of me, well, yes. I believe they are necessary.”

“They wouldn’t stop me, you know.”

“I am simply evening the odds, Miss Attwater.”

“Do you really have to call me that?” She set her tea down with a thump.

Finally, Feu Drake smiled. “Miss Attwater, there are any number of things I could call you. considering your situation, I think, if I were you, I would be satisfied with the niceties.”

Her shackled hand raised halfway to the collar around her neck – like the rest of the chains holding her, it was made of wood – and then dropped back to her lap as her chains pulled her short. “You are quite unfair.”

“That, my lovely Maya, is the point.”

See wiki here, for Nicor/knucker, and wiki here for tearoom.

Feu Drake teaches Law at Addergoole.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/658304.html. You can comment here or there.

Nightmares, a story for the January OrigFic Bingo

Feb3

This is to ysabetwordsmith‘s prompt to this January card for origfic_bingo.

It fills the “nightmares” slot, and is in no established verse.

Warning: nightmares.

Sleep falls. It’s not been something I greet as a friend in quite some time, but even out here, once in a while a body needs to sleep. So I give in to it – no drugs, the drugs only make it worse.

(The things back home helped more, but the things back home lost me my job and the house and got me on this ship. So now I do without.)

I let sleep overtake me, not fighting it, not trying to steer it. There was a guy here for a while, tried to teach me lucid dreaming. It just made it worse.

Seems like almost everything makes it worse. Wonder what that says about me.

The nightmares come first; they almost always do. The train is on fire again, and the Beasts are coming one way and the soldiers are coming the other way and I know, just know, that there are still people on the train, but I can’t move.

I struggle and fight against it but I know it won’t do any good. There’s this sense of horrible finality as I watch the face press against the glass of the train and then, only then, does whatever is holding me (not whatever I know what but dreams work in allegory, not memory) release me and I go running for the train, just in time for it to explode in my face.

And that is both allegory and real, I can still feel the scars.

I don’t wake. If I woke then I could stare at the ceiling until my heart stopped but instead, damnit, damn it by whatever gods still care, blast it into space, I fall into the other one.

The one where you’re alive, holding my hand. Where you sit with me in the hospital and tell me it’s okay.

I had that dream so many times, so long, while I was healing that when I woke up for real and they told me you were dead…

…well, that’s when the pills started.

But it won’t let me go. You won’t let me go. You’re there every night, tracing my scars and telling me it’s all right, it’s going to be okay.

And I wake, damnit, blast it out the airlock, once again I wake, alone in my bunk in this fragging ship and you’re dead again.

I’d rather have the nightmares.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/656166.html. You can comment here or there.

What was Lost

Jan31

This is to clare_dragonfly‘s prompt to my December Bingo card for origfic_bingo.

It fills the “Lost and Found” Square.

It comes after/concurrent with –
Toy Soldiers
With Friends Like These…,
Cleaning Up and
this scrap (http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/398701.html)
Monsters
Mimosas.
S for Shahin
E is For Emrys/Harder than Diamonds

and is part of my Addergoole sub-‘verse, with characters from my Addergoole webserial.

“You know your options. What are you going to do?”

Ty studied its mistress unhappily. “That’s not a fair question, and you know it… Mistress.”

“I know. And I apologize for that. This isn’t going to be easy on you, Tya, whichever route either of us take.”

“No.” Ty rolled its shoulders. “But… maybe that’s what I needed. Life was easy for a long time. And now…”

Shahin packed the last piece of bedding into her pack. “And now, you need to pack, or not.”

Ty winced. “And leave you, follow you, or wait for you.”

“Yes. I apologize. But…”

“I understand. If I had someone like Emrys…” The message had come back from Addergoole, not from Regine, but from Shira Pelletier. Tell the Rapier: What was lost might be found again; the fire has always been at home in the cold; the hills are not hills.

Shahin nodded crisply. “I do need your decision.”

“I’ll come with you.” It didn’t take long to pack up its gear; it had come with little and half of that had been confiscated. Ty was surprised, on filling its pack, to find that its mistress was adding things – another blanket, a hunting knife, a small mess kit.

“Tell me why?”

Ty sighed. “Because I can help you. Because this is going to be really dangerous, and you don’t even know exactly what you’re getting into.” It swallowed, but found it couldn’t stop. “Because I don’t want to be left behind. And… and because you’re making me somebody better.”

Her hand lingered on its cheek. Ty sighed. “I hope you found Emrys. I, um. I think I’m finding Ty.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/651527.html. You can comment here or there.

Exhaustion, a story of the Aunt Family for the Bonus Round/Bingo

Jan31

This is to kelkyag‘s prompt to my dailyprompt here.

This fills the “exhaustion” square in the January Bingo Card.

This is either a different branch of The Aunt Family or an earlier/later line.

Warning: death.

Olianda died.

This was not, generally, a quick process, and in her case, it was further complicated by any number of problems.

The first problem was, of course, the simple physical act of dying. The family to which the Aunts were adjunct was, by virtue of their nature, a particularly hearty lot, and they did not grow frail quickly or easily. Olianda’s spirit was tired – weak, one might say – long before her flesh stopped being willing.

At one hundred and seventeen, she was finally ready to die, body and soul.

Now, she had to convince the family to let her go, the house and its attached role to release her, and her successor to take up the mantle.

“Aunt Olianda.” The woman holding Olie’s hand was the daughter of her niece’s daughter, but in this family, ‘Aunt’ was always the appropriate honorific. “Please don’t go. I don’t know what we’ll do without you.”

“You’ll thrive, of course.” Her voice was barely a squeak anymore. “You’ll be fine. Enid – you are Enid, right?”

“Yes, yes, I’m Enid.” The girl blinked at her. “I only have brothers, you know.”

“And you’re pregnant, which was a swift move on your part. Child, tell your children this – they cannot make you take the role. No matter how long they push, how hard they complain, the role is the role.” She patted the girl’s arm. “You’re safe, besides. Brett will be my successor.”

“But she’s…”

“I know. Now be a dear and give me a hug. Your Aunty is tired and wants to rest.”

She waited until the girl was out of the room. ::You understand?:: she asked the house.

The house rumbled in reply. A cupboard creaked. A statue shifted.

::I have been training seven of them as long as they have been alive. You will not be alone.::

The house groaned again. It needed more reassurance.

::Besides… I will be here with you.:: And Brett would take the mantle gladly, once she understood.

The house settled. Olianda closed her eyes.

In the house, in the neighborhood, in the county, in the world, her family sighed, absorbed the loss, and shifted the power amgonst themselves. Seven heirs felt the strength touch them, and stretched, and took it in. The house cradled the consciousness, the family the power, the world her spirit, until all that had been Olianda was exhausted.

Olianda, having done what she must, died, and the era of a new Aunt began.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/650776.html. You can comment here or there.

Bingo: Diagonal

Jan30

This is a fill for my Dec 12 2013 card. I’ve been using the card as a prompt call.

Diagonal Prompts left top to bottom right – Taking a Chance, Bribery, (FREE SPACE), Then and Now, Knowledge

Title: Taking Chances
Series: Space Accountant
Prompt: Taking a Chance
Rating: G

Title: Bribery
Series: Addergoole
Prompt: Bribery
Rating: PG-13

Title: Older Witches
Series: Aunt Family
Prompt: FREE SPACE
Rating: PG-13

Title: Then and Now
Series: Aunt Family
Prompt: Then and Now
Rating: G

Title: Hands-on Knowledge
Series: Dragons Next Door
Prompt: Knowledge
Rating: G

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/648704.html. You can comment here or there.

Through the Glass

Jan30

To ysabetwordsmith‘s prompt to My January Giraffe Card. New setting, new characters.

This fills the “innocent” square.

Content warning: this is depressing and it even creeped me out.

The city was surrounded. For three weeks, nobody – nothing – had gotten in or out.

Except radio signals. They had actually tested those, but there didn’t seem to be any carryover of the contamination into radio, and so radio signals were allowed to escape.

Escape. Colonel Techwin looked down at her notes and shook her head, again. She had started to think of everything in, out, and from that city as sentient, the radio signals escaping, the air and the direct sound waves trapped.

It had taken them some doing, but they had sealed up the city entirely – a dome, which had seemed funny at first, something out of a cartoon, something out of a parody. “We’re going to stick a dome on it and trap the contamination inside.”

The problem was, there was more than contamination in there.

Colonel Techwin levered herself out of her seat, hobbled out of her tent, and made herself walk to the edge of the dome. She did so every day; she had done so for five weeks now.

“How long do they have?”

Her aide-de-camp was not far behind her; Petlun was almost always behind her. “Estimates say between seven and ten days longer, ma’am.”

“How much longer will the dome hold?”

“Estimates say between eight and nine more days, ma’am.”

She didn’t need to ask the rest. Before they had installed the dome, the contamination rate had been tracked. By sound, one being every hour. By breath, ever half-hour. When you got into direct contact, it got worse.

She put a hand on the dome. That, they had determined, was probably safe. “Have we discovered…” An antidote? A cure? A vaccine?

“No, ma’am. They say they’re close… Also, ma’am, approximately ten percent of the city is still un-contaminated.”

Techwin ran her hand down the glass. “And yet, if we release them to study them…”

Within days, the human race would all be contaminated. Every one of them. Within a month, most would be dead, according to current estimates.

On the other side of the glass, a child, white-eyed and bloody-mouthed, ran her hand down the dome, mimicking Colonel Techwin. The Colonel sighed.

“Tell the scientists they have seven days. At the end of the seventh day…”

Petlun nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Neither of them looked at the child. They were both staring at the mother, clear-eyed and weeping, mouthing soundless pleas through the glass.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/648249.html. You can comment here or there.

Older Witches, a continuation of Aunt Family for the Dec. Bingo Card

Jan29

For kelkyag‘s prompt to my December Bingo Card – it fills the Free Square.

Aunt Family has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ

Evangaline modern-era. After Unexpected Guest, Followed Me Home (LJ), In the Cards (LJ),
Big Bad Witch (LJ), and Frog Pancakes (LJ)

“I could feel it, you know? In my toes. I was just waiting for you to decide to tell me.”

Eva studied the boy in front of her for a few minutes.

“You’ll be eighteen in June.”

“That’s what being a witch tells you?” Having it out in the open seemed to relax Robbie. He was smiling, at least.

“No, that’s what having an extended family of snoops, busy-bodies, and gossips tells me.”

That, on the other hand, made him flush, frown, and turn away. “Chalce is your niece, isn’t she?”

“So is Beryl. And Stone is my nephew.” She could guess, from Chalcedony’s message, what Robbie thought she’d learned from her family. “Among others.”

His shoulders didn’t release any tension. “So you know I’m a punk. Mrs. Cunningham, she’s one of your cousins, isn’t she?”

“She is. But I grew up with Eliza, Robbie, which means I know when she’s full of shit, too.”

He peeked up at her through a fringe of hair. “So…?”

“So.” She folded her hands. “So, you’ll be eighteen in about six months.”

“At which point, what, you’ll turn me into a frog?” He found his smile again. “Yeah, I’ll be legal, then. Is that what has you worried?”

She tilted her head. “Well, I’ll admit it does complicate things. Single woman, single older woman…”

“You really don’t count as older.”

“And you’re sweet to say that.”

“No, I mean it. You’re, what, twenty-two?” He leaned forward. “Besides, nobody cares about that.” Just as quickly as he’d leaned forward, he pulled back, staring at her. “Wait. Wait, are you seriously considering…”?

Eva found herself smiling. “Well, were you?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, you’re hot, you’re single, and you’re a witch. How cool is that?”

“Flattering.” She sounded, she knew, like her Aunt Rosaria. She thought Robbie might deserve it.

His face fell. “Well, and you were nice to me. Shit, you weren’t, were you?”

Eva licked her lips. “I was. I am. However…”

He sank even further back into his chair. “You can’t send me back. You can’t. I was going to run, you know. I am going to run. Just needed a place to sleep for the night.”

“In June…” She knew it wouldn’t work, but it was the first solution.

“I won’t make it till June. And if I did, what does a calendar date mean?”

“It means me not getting arrested. All right.” Eva leaned forward. “This is what we’re going to do.”

After all, if she couldn’t use her power, what good was it being a witch?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/647129.html. You can comment here or there.

Friends Do, a story of Dragons Next Door for OrigFic Bingo

Jan28

To kelkyag‘s prompt to my January card for origfic_bingo.

This fills the “friendship” square.

It comes after Hands-on Knowledge.

Jin leaned against the bleachers in gym class, and listened to his human friends fail to understand.

“You introduced her to your folks, right? You did the whole prom thing, you’ve gone on dates… you’ve got all the hard stuff out of the way.” Toby had been with his girlfriend, Vanessa, for over a year; he at least thought he knew what he was talking about.

“Until Valentine’s Day.” Geordi had gone through seven girlfriends in six months. “Or her birthday. Or, god forbid, Christmas. But it’s April. You’re golden, unless her birthday’s in May.”

“Seriously.” Toby caught a ball tossed their way – they were supposed to be playing dodge-ball – and shook his head at Jin. “Unless this is oogy boogy stuff?”

“Oogy boogy!” Geordi wriggled his fingers in what he clearly thought was a classic “magic happens” gesture.

“Yes.” Jin sighed. “It’s oogy boogy stuff.”

“Is she…” Toby mimicked Geordi’s gesture.

“Well, yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t have brought her home so soon otherwise.”

“Racist parents, hunh? I know how that can be.” Toby shrugged. “So she’s a… damnit.” It was as if, having played the ‘racism’ card, he felt like he had to be correct himself. “She’s a dweomer, then? So it’s not like you have to keep the magic stuff hidden from her. Can you do that, in your house? I mean, we’ve been there, man…”

“Exactly. You’ve been there. Which means, you know who my neighbors are.”

“What, the pixies?”

“No, they’re not quite neighbors…“ Jin shrugged. “Besides, she’s already met them.”

His friends – even his human friends – weren’t stupid. “Woah. You mean the dragons. You haven’t introduced her to Jimmy yet?”

“No.” He hunched his shoulders forward. “I haven’t. When a dragon doesn’t like someone…”

“He’s your best friend, man. I mean… we’re your friends. He’s your literal wingman.” Geordi patted Jin’s back. “She makes you happy, right?”

“Yeah?” Yeah. More than anything.

“Then Jimmy will be fine. But you gotta tell him.”

Jin swallowed. It wasn’t nearly that simple, but… “Right. Right, okay. If you see charred remains…”

“We’ll make sure all the girls cry at your funeral, yep. But it won’t be like that.” Toby punched his arm. “Go. Talk to him. That’s what friends do.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/645248.html. You can comment here or there.

Alder's Grove Fiction

The Worlds of Lyn Thorne-Alder