Tag Archive | prompt: origfic

Supply Exhausted

Jan18

This is to [personal profile] thnidu‘s prompt to my [community profile] dailyprompt here.

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

Names from Fourteen Minutes‘ random name generator.

Warning: this might be a bit creepy.

“How can we be running out?” Shadde-Reston had that high-management refusal to accept numbers that Basia knew far too well; one had to work around it with charts and graphics and, if possible, displays that invoked all the senses.

“Let me show you, Se.” When one is the bearer of bad news, be as deferential as possible. One didn’t want to end up being the next bad news.

“I don’t want more charts. Do you understand what this means, Basia? If we run out?”

“Se, I know that we are running out. I know that this will have huge effects on the economy. I know that it will cut the luxuries market by over a half. I know that it will cut the food market by more than that. People will starve.”

“It’s the end of an era!” Shadde’s voice was trilling upwards. Basia responded by keeping a completely level tone of voice.

“It is certainly going to require some changes. The most efficient plan would be to pare luxuries down to the very minimum, curtail euphoric production, and, of course, cut back on imports until we can restructure our economy.”

“I still don’t understand how this could have happened.”

“If you’d let me show you the demonstration, Se?”

“Your demonstrations are always so dreary, Basia.”

“That is my job, Se Shadde-Reston.” When one wasn’t being listened to, sometimes one had to resort to high formality. “This one’s job has always been to distill the facts for the Supervisors. And this one must do one’s job.”

“No displays. No demonstrations. No charts. Just tell me how we could run out? How do you run out of workers? They’re a renewable resource. Leave them alone and they make more of themselves.”

Basia coughed. “That would be the problem, Se. They, ah, stopped making more.”

“What did they do?” Shadde leaned forward over the 100-years-extinct-hardwood desk. “What did they do?”

Basia was going to have to spell it out. “Se Shadde, they stopped breeding. They stopped having sex.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/639467.html. You can comment here or there.

Omens and Ill, a story for the Bonus Round

Jan17

To [personal profile] lilfluff‘s prompt for here, my [community profile] dailyprompt prompt “getting your feet wet.” Also fills “Holy Place” on my January Bingo Card.

New setting? Might be in the same world as the oracle whose god got irritated. (here)

This REALLY feels like a draft of a novel beginning to me.

There were a few blind nay-sayers who took it as an ill omen when the temple of Orestin flooded.

Since most of the rest of the city and the surrounding land were also flooded, the majority of citizens were far less concerned. Their temple held a decent piece of land on a well-known street; the place was well-lit of the night time (when the city was less flooded) and well-trafficked during the day. But it was not on the city’s one hilltop

A few scholars and that sort suggested that it could be a sign that the temples themselves were places of worship, not the homes of the gods. Thus had been suggested since time immemorial, but there was still no agreement on the matter.

The acolytes of Orestin had no time for that debate. They were wading through ankle-deep water to prepare for the morning devotions; they were cleaning out unused space (from a time of greater prosperity; the acolytes of Orestin saved everything, including real estate) for those whose homes were unlivable, they were baking flatbread and pressing cheese, running the ovens full of whatever they could roast just to combat the damp.

An Acolyte of the Mulberry Ring, Tremmin, was currently knee-deep in water at the base of the temple stairs, herding the faithful (or those willing to pretend, at the moment, for a dry place to perch) up the stairs and through one of the three entrances. A citizen caught her eye and smirked, looking as exhausted as she felt. “You’d think it was a Quarterly Festival, wouldn’t you? You’ve even got the back door open.”

She wanted to say something clever, but Tremmin had been awake for, to her count, three days and four bells, although it could have been four days and three bells. The speaker rescued her with a tired smirk and an irreverent thump of the marble. “Orestin, I suspect, does not mind. Nor his is holy place less holy for the work you are doing today. Blessings, Acolyte, and may you find the place you are most proper in.”

“Blessings, Citizen.” The words came out of her mouth without bidding. “May your proper place be waiting for you.”

“I have already found it.” He breezed past, leaving Tremmin, still knee-deep in water, with the uncomfortable feeling that she’d just missed something very important.

She had no time for ill omens, however, so she turned to the next citizen. “Welcome, and may Orestin comfort you in this time of trial.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/638673.html. You can comment here or there.

Hands-on-Knowledge, a Drabble of Dragons Next Door for the December Bingo Card

Jan12

This is to [personal profile] anke‘s prompt (on twitter) to my December OrigFic Bingo Card. This fills (for the second time) the “Knowledge” square.

Jin, Bianna, and the narrator (Aud) belong to the Dragons Next Door setting.

“There’s theoretical classes, of course.” Jin was talking fast. I tried not to smile; he liked to talk fast when he didn’t think his father was going to give him something. It worked on Sage, half because Sage didn’t notice it was happening, and then the other half because he noticed and was amused by it.

I was not Sage, but it amused me as well. I let him go on.

“There’s classes in everything, and Bianna’s already taking classes in the local college. And, being here, being so close to Smokey Knoll, you know that the college here is good in those things. But there’s all of those classes, and they only cover a small amount, and it’s all theory, you know, none of it is solid practice, and even the ones that do field work won’t let someone Bianna’s age – or mine – go on a field mission.”

“And you think I ought to know better than college professors?” I found it interesting that Bianna was simply listening. Her back was straight and she was watching me, not Jin. This was a girl to watch out for – or one to welcome into the family. Sage and I had been arguing that since we met her.

“I know you know better than the professors. The question is whether or not you’ll trust Bianna, not whether or not you’ll take a teenager on a field mission. After all, you’ve taken me and even Junie on trips.” He held up his hands. “I know it’s different. We’re your kids. You’ve been training us since we were born. but Bianna doesn’t have that. Her parents are human… as far as we can tell. She’d never even met a pixie until she came along with me on my birthday, much less a dragon. And the field is larger than you can handle on your own for a city, Mom, you’ve said it yourself, large and growing. You’ll need more than just me and Junie – if she wants to – and there’s going to be my time with the Tower.”

My boy knew how to talk. I nodded to Jin. Watch carefully, or welcome into the family. Possibly both. “And what does Bianna want?”

Bianna cleared her throat. “I want to learn, ma’am. I mean, I was considering social work for a career, but then Jin told me that the other races have almost no representation at all, and it occurred to me… maybe I could combine them. But I don’t know anything except what I’ve read in books.”

I knew everything the paperwork of a bureaucratic city could provide on Bianna, but that was not, by far, everything one could learn. “Perhaps we both could benefit from some hands-on learning.”

And if my son shot me a warning glance, well, that was his right. He was welcome to whatever relationships and loves he wanted, but when he introduced her to the family business… then it was time for some hands-on learning indeed.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/634766.html. You can comment here or there.

Unforgivable, a story for the OrigFic Bingo

Jan11

To [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith‘s prompt to my January OrigFic Card.

This fills the “Betrayal” square.

Content warning: suggested self-harm, vague.

“You weren’t supposed to know at all.”

“I’m glad I did! Tory, this isn’t the sort of thing you should keep to yourself. You’ll be better now.”

“Ty, you can’t just read people’s private things. That was password-protected for a reason.”

“Well, it wasn’t like it was hard…” Ty was faltering. The staff had said five minutes. Maybe five minutes was too long.

“You hacked my computer. You read my private things.” Tory was looking around the room. The window, no, no there was no way anyone could get out the window. Ty backed towards the door. There’d be no end of it if Tory got out.

“Tory, look at it! Look at you! I did this for your own good! Come on, you have to understand that.”

Sitting in a hospital bed, in a thin gown, Tory didn’t look understanding. If anything, Ty would have to call that expression “furious.” “Come on, Tory. You understand. I did this for your own good.”

“You violated me.”

“I read your computer.”

“And I ended up here.” Tory stood up. “No. I don’t understand, Ty. No, it’s not okay.”

The window was too small for anyone to fit out of. Wasn’t it?

“Tory… Tory, I was helping you.”

“That wasn’t the help I wanted. You can go off and help someone else. Or better yet… don’t help anyone at all.”

The window wasn’t too small for Tory.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/634335.html. You can comment here or there.

Romance was never this convenient to handle

Jan8

To Kelkyag’s prompt for here, my [community profile] dailyprompt prompt “a clone,” and here, my OrigFic Bingo card, “Hallucinations/visions.”

Paige waved at Mark Faine, although he didn’t see her, or at least didn’t respond – he never did, but being Mark Faine, he already had a girlfriend and hadn’t, as far as Paige could tell, been single for more than a day of their high school career. Which was a pity, ’cause Paige had more than made up for it by being single for their entire high school career, except that one day with Eilan Saffron, and boy had that been a mistake. It would be nice if there were two or three or maybe four Mark Faines. Maybe then she’d have a chance.

She should really get to lunch. She got a little Snickers-commercial when she didn’t eat on time, and this stupid Senior-year schedule had her lunch nearly right before she got on the bus. She headed away from where Mark Faine was totes ignoring her, around the corner, stepped away from the punks and sidled sideways around the jocks – no need to upset anyone, everyone had been on edge since the principal quit like that, all of a sudden. The new rules weren’t helping things either, and the punks all looked sad and funny without their metal.

She rounded another corner – Marmal High was full of corners, and somehow it seemed like there were more around lunch time – and ran into Mark Faine.

She was feeling fainter than she ought to be. This was just one of the demetaled punks, it had to be, Sid and Nancy T-shirt and an extra hole in the nose. She stepped away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to…”

“Hey, no worries.” The voice was Mark Faine’s. Paige knew that voice like she knew the latest Enhydra Lutris CD.

“Hey.” That was Mark Faine’s voice again, coming from the other side of her. She was hearing things. She was seeing things. Paige leaned against the wall and tried not to act totally disjoined from reality.

Standing in front of her, however, were three Mark Faines. She had to be losing it.

“Hey, you’re kinda cute.”

Nope, she was totes gone; she’d already lost all there was to lose.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/632920.html. You can comment here or there.

Victimization, a story of Dragons Next Door for the Giraffe Bingo Call

Jan8

To [personal profile] kelkyag‘s prompt to my orig-fic card. This fills the “Cunning Plan” slot.

Juniper, Kelkathian, and Azdekious are part of my Dragons Next Door setting; its landing page is here.

This story is directly after Team D.

“What’s the big deal? She’s a rich kid.”

Kelkathian stood on kel’s toes and shot Azdekious a glance. The driver still wasn’t getting it. This could be a problem. They had an unconscious kid they’d contracted to protect, an immensely important unconscious kid, a panicking backup guy, and a dumb driver.

The situation could be a lot worse, of course; any of them in the front could know what they were doing.

“The big deal.” The backup guy coughed. “The big deal? The big deal?”

“Stop saying that!”

“The big deal is that this is a kid from Smokey Knoll!”

“It’s a human kid from Smokey Knoll. Only rich humans live up on that hill.”

Kelkathian counted silently. One, two, three.

Four, five, six, seven. Wow, the passenger really was angry – or stunned. Possibly both.

“There are no humans living on Smokey Knoll.”

And now there was another silent count. Looking at Azdekious, he was doing the same thing. One, two, three…

“Say that again?” The driver’s voice had changed.

“There are no humans living on Smokey Knoll.” So had the passenger’s voice. They were both using very careful, measured tones.

And now, now it was time to make sure the driver understood. Kelkathian reached out with kel’s othersense, grabbed the electricity, and shorted out several fuses. The car went dead.

“There aren’t… but… the heck?” The driver turned the key a few times. Nothing happened, of course… and then the glue holding the cloth to the roof failed over the driver’s side.

The seat brackets failed. Something in the radio began to pop and hiss. A spring in the seat popped out and jabbed the driver in the posterior. Kelkathian had to stifle a giggle.

The passenger got out of the van. Fleeing? No, the back door opened.

The passenger, a slim man in his late twenties, was holding both of his hands in the air. “I am going to take the girl out of the van. I am going to carry her to this bus stop. I am going to call her parents and wait there, protecting her, until someone arrives to pick her up who can prove parentage.”

“The heck are you doing?” The driver was trying to extricate himself from his seat, but not having much luck.

The man appeared to be looking at Junie, who was still laying motionless. “I do not wish to be the victim of this child’s allies’ rage. I am going to do everything I can to get her back to her parents before I am.”

Kelkathian studied the man. She didn’t generally have much use for humans, but this one was showing promise.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/632365.html. You can comment here or there.

Bribery

Jan7

This is to [personal profile] clare_dragonfly‘s prompt to my December Origfic Bingo Card.

Addergoole has a landing page here. These are new characters… probably.

“I am not above bribery. I am not above blackmail, either, and you know I can come up with blackmail on you after what I’ve seen.”

His voice didn’t exactly quaver as he answered. He wasn’t quite sure, yet, if she was serious. “Blackmail? There’s nothing I’m that ashamed of.”

“What about…” even here, they could be overheard. She dropped her voice down to a whisper and murmured in his ear. It wasn’t a perfect precaution – nothing was, in Addergoole – but it was something.

His cheeks flushed. “You…” This time his voice broke. “You said something about bribery?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/631474.html. You can comment here or there.

Taking Chances

Jan5

This is to kelkyag‘s prompt to my December Origfic Bingo Card.

Genique is the protagonist of the Space-Accountant series.

This follows after Tradeoffs.

The Quartermaster, Marist Irio, had given Genique not only a well-tailored wardrobe but also some food for thought and some tips – and piles of bookkeeping.

She’d also given her references to several other people on the ship who had paperwork – the head Chef, for one, the head of Navigation, and the director of the Pit.

Everyone starts out in the Pit, but… Genique was under no illusions. Eventually, they would run out of paperwork that had been waiting, and she would go into the Pit. She’d given quite a bit of extra attention to the paperwork she did for the Pit. Drugs – sensation-enhancers, mostly, and contraceptives, some antibiotics. Drugs, and oil, and clothing – that last one surprised her. And cameras.

And, of course, people were skimming off the top, the sides, the bottom, and everywhere else. People were stealing from the pirate ship, and, if she hadn’t thrown her lot in with them, she’d have found it amusing.

As it was, she’d had to carefully ask the Master of the Pit, do you want me to note the places you’re stealing, or just make them less obvious? He’d patted her head and called her a good girl, which she really wanted to mind, but she’d noticed the way it had covered up a nervous surprise on the Pit director’s face.

That had been one sort of taking a chance (the second chance there had been in the way she’d not mentioned it directly to the First, and made sure when she did mention it, it was in a way that couldn’t be traced back to her, hopefully.

This was another kind of chance. She had dressed for dinner carefully, in the best of the jumpsuits that Marist Irio had tailored for her and the red silk Basi had gifted to her. She had done her hair, inasmuch as she could without spending money in the shop (the Head Chef had given her a wooden-handled brush that he’d pirated. Being bald, he had no need for it or the wooden barrettes he’d also given her), and used a tad of the cosmetics the Pit-Master had given her for her service. In short, she looked as good as she was going to get.

She strode into the lunch room and sat herself down, as if she belonged there, as if she had every belief that she was welcome. She smiled brightly and cheerfully, once sat, at the two young pirates already there. “Hello.” She offered them her hand. “I’m Genique. I’m the new bookkeeper.”


Next: Betting On It

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Team D, a story of Dragons Next Door for the Giraffe Bingo Card Call

Jan5

To [personal profile] kelkyag‘s prompt to my orig-fic card. This fills the “Cunning Plan” slot.

Juniper, Kelkathian, and Azdekious are part of my Dragons Next Door setting; its landing page is here.

“What… what the seventeen different sparks?” Kelkathian and Azdekious stared at each other, and then at the van they had suddenly found themselves in. “This isn’t team C.”

“This isn’t Team B.” Kelkathian gave a headshake, and wormed out of the backpack. Juniper was unconscious, looking for all the world as if she was napping at home in her bed. “Can’t be team A.”

“You’re telling me we were guarding against three teams of kidnappers…”

“And a fourth one came out of nowhere. I am indeed telling you that.” Kelkathian dropped carefully to the floor. The back of the van was filled with plumbing supplies, all of it with the appropriate level of wear for an actual plumber, but something about it still felt wrong to Kel.

“Is she waking up back there?” The voice came from the driver’s seat; Kel ducked into Juniper’s jacket while the passenger turned around. “I thought I heard something.”

“Must be dreaming, then, ’cause she’s still out like a light.”

“Hunh. Thought a rich kid would be harder to grab than that.”

Kel peeked over Junie’s pocket and saw the driver’s face – nothing exciting, nothing important, and her othersight told her he was nothing but human. Very human, strong and tough and so normal it was almost painful, but this wasn’t a dweomer or an elf or an elkin or really anything but a normal human kidnapper…

…who thought Juniper was a rich kid.

“You’re sure her parents have money?” The passenger seemed to have the same qualms about this plan that Kelkathian did.

“They live in Smokey Knoll. You tell me a human that could afford a house there who wasn’t filthy rich.”

The car screeched to a halt. “This is a Smokey Knoll kid?” The passenger’s voice was a hiss. That was your cunning plan? To grab a kid from Smokey Knoll?”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/632365.html

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