Tag Archive | prompter: wyld_dandelyon

Wild Card, a story of Aunt Family for a very old Ladies_bingo card (@wyld_dandelyon)

Apr29

This is written to [personal profile] wyld_dandelyon‘s prompt to my “Wild Card” square of this [community profile] ladiesbingo card from 2014.

Aunt family, rather early on in Eva’s story, I think.

It was a quiet evening, a Friday on the edge between autumn and winter. There was a fire roaring in the wood stove – their family liked to do things old-school when they could – and the lanterns were all filled and ready. Nights like this, the power liked to go out, and if there was one thing the family as a whole agreed on, it was that being prepared was far better than cursing the darkness.

Especially considering the darkness had a tendency of cursing back people like them.

Eva was playing cards – gin rummy, a relatively safe pursuit – with one of her older aunts. Aunt Karaleen had celebrated her hundred-and-third birthday just a few months ago, and while nobody would ever say one of their family was going senile, she did tend to forget what decade it was now, and she had a habit of wandering combined with the family’s trademark stubbornness. About the only way to keep her in one place for any length of time was to entertain her, and tonight was Eva’s turn.

Eva pulled a card from the pile and glanced at it. “Oh, this isn’t supposed to be here.” The joker on an ancient wild card grinned back at her. “I don’t even think it’s from this deck.” She dropped it into the discard pile.

Aunt Karaleen chuckled throatily. “Oh, him? He never shows up when he’s supposed to. But now you’ve seen him, you’ll be seeing him again.”

The lights flickered and popped as the neighborhood went dark. Karaleen laughed again. “See? And now we’ve called him. It will be a long winter, mark you, and fruitful, but not one of us will forget it.” Something strange and sad took over her voice. “Not even me,” she whispered.

Is there more
Aunt Family
in the cards?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1098032.html. You can comment here or there.

In the Forest

Feb14

written to [personal profile] wyld_dandelyon‘s prompt here. I’m still taking prompts if you have an idea!

There were footsteps in her forest. Keita shimmied up a vantage-tree and let herself slip into the foliage, camouflaged from the view of the few people that would think to look up.

A man walked through, skinny and wearing glasses, too clean for the forest, too tidy for the world outside. He looked around, muttering words to himself that Keita couldn’t quite discern, and then he looked up, through the foliage and directly at her.

“Keita Casarez?” His voice was still quiet, but it seemed like shouting against the noise of the woods. “My name is Reid Solomon.”

He knew her name. She didn’t move. She’d learned from the animals in the woods that moving was the dumb thing. You didn’t move until the predator showed that it was about to pounce, because maybe it hadn’t seen you yet.

“Keita, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here from a school, a safe place, called Addergoole.”

She was safe here. She’d been safe here than she had been anywhere else, anywhere before she left. Keita stared at the man’s shoulder. His clothes were spotless. He looked like a scientist.

“It’s a small place, but it’s got running water and power still, and it’s safe. There aren’t any mobs, no falling buildings…

He seemed to have no problem talking to a blank spot in the trees. How had he found her?

“Your parents enrolled you, back before you were born. And you’re the right age to come to school now.”

Despite herself, Keita hissed. He nodded, as if not completely surprised by that response.

“All right, so your parents are not your favorite people. I can understand that. Nevertheless, they made a legally binding promise on your time.”

She scrambled down a few branches, still way out of reach but where she could see him better. “Screw that. Law’s dead. Nothing left of the government.”

“True. But fae law still holds.”

“Those freaks?” She snorted. “Nothing to do with me.”

He tilted his head. “How long have you been out here, Keita?”

“What year ‘zit?”

“2014, in August.”

“Season’s obvious,” she scoffed. She hadn’t spoken to another human in a while. She was surprised the words were still there. “Hunh.” He had to be lying. No, there’d been that first winter, which had been awful, and then the things – no, the things had started before that. Flying overhead. And she’d slept in a hollow tree with a stolen sleeping bag and prayed she didn’t freeze to death.

And then there’d been the second winter, and she’d been prepared. The camps around the woods hadn’t missed a few things she’d stolen, and most of them seemed pretty empty, anyway. It had been a colder winter than the first, but she’d stayed cozy in her nest, eating hoarded scraps.

The third winter, that had been mild, and she’d been hunting, but there’d been more people in her woods. She’d spooked some of them away and hidden from the rest…

…and it was the end of summer, so the fourth winter was coming.

“You’ve been out here three years?” The man in the too-clean clothes looked startled. Keita hissed at him.

“And I’ll be out here a lot more. Stay away, make everyone happier.”

She jumped up into the tree and darted away before he could answer, half-remembered fears jabbing at her mind.

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1067958.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1066029.html. You can comment here or there.

The Ramifications of Hair, a continuation

Jan7

Written as [personal profile] wyld_dandelyon‘s commissioned continuation of Tricked out for her pleasure.

Joe was bound to the bed, naked, as far as he could tell, except for too-many-piercings, and there was an elf woman on top of him. As far as slavery went, this was not what had been in the brochure.

Not that there’d been a brochure, unless you counted I Was A Slave In California documentaries, and Joe had watched more than a few of those, usually while very drunk or very hung-over.

Very hung-over was not dissimilar to the way he was feeling right now. It was like his face had been wrapped in blankets and now he was beginning to see the light – except that right now, the light was either a pillow or a lot of hair.

Hair. She’d said something about braiding. Joe forced himself to pay attention to the situation at hand. “I… I can hold still.” He shook his left wrist, making the chain jangle. “There’s not much option anyway, is there?” He turned his head to look at the elf-woman, but succeeded only in getting a mouthful of hair.

She chuckled throatily at him. “There is always an option. You’re lovely, did I mention?”

Joe coughed. “That’s not what I’m used to people saying.”

“Oh, well, Americans.” She gathered handfuls of his hair in her hands and began finger-combing it. The sensation was strangely pleasant. “They like big, bulging sorts, don’t they? Football players?”

“Mmm. Manly men.” He sounded bitter, and felt a little guilty about it. His country was better than this, than slavery, wasn’t it? Except nobody had told him slavery was about naked women braiding his hair.

“Manly men.” The woman chuckled. “My name is Carienne, by the way. Baroness Carienne ni Scholta O Rhinne, but when we’re alone like this, you can call me Cari.”

Joe tried it out. “Cari.” It sounded like a teenager, not like – “So. I think I remember you buying me?” Wow, that was awkward.

She began finger-combing his hair, pushing a bunch of it to one side of him, a bunch to the other. “I bought you,” she agrees. “You were very well drugged. I was curious to see what you’d be like when you surfaced.”

“Other than tied to the bed?” He jangled one cuff for emphasis. Her hands felt good on his scalp. Nobody had said anything about slavery felt good.

Well, that wasn’t right. But it wasn’t supposed to feel good.

“Other than tied to the bed, yes.” She chuckled. “So, do you think the drugs are gone yet?”

“Well…” Joe thought about it for a moment. “I’m starting to freak out. Because you took me somewhere – and then I had hair. Like, lots of hair. That wasn’t a dream, was it?”

A tug on his head answered the question. He turned as much as he could, and saw the mass of black-and-brown in Cari’s hands. “No. Not a dream.”

“But it’s impossible. I mean, I don’t think that was just a weave…”

She gave another tug, a firmer one this time. Joe swallowed a gasp. “No. not a weave.”

“So…” One things the documentaries had hinted at but never said outright. Joe put his face down on the pillow and let it muffle his answer. “So magic is real?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/881454.html. You can comment here or there.

Tricked Out for Her Pleasure… a drabble of Tír na Cali for the Giraffe Call

Oct26

The first thing Lady Stefania did when she bought Joe was take him to a cosmetic witch, who grew out the hair on his head – kept buzzed, but black and luxurious when let to grow – until it reached his knees, and removed all the hair on the rest of his body.

The second thing that Lady Stefania did was exchange the plastic-and-steel slave shop collar for a torque of gold and silver and matching shackles. By the time Joe swum out from under the be-happy-be-obedient drugs the slave shop had doped him with, he was bejeweled, shackled, pierced in places he didn’t want to thing about, and lying on his stomach on a bed covered in silk.

It took him a few minutes to realize that the blanket around him was actually his hair, and a little longer to realize that he was actually shackled this way. By the time he thought to panic, he’d also realized that there was a naked elf sitting next to him.

Not elf, he realized, after a moment of confusion. She was just an amazingly elfin woman, pointed nose, pointed chin, and a slender body that couldn’t be more than five feet tall when she was standing.

Which she wasn’t. She was actually – his butt clenched – in the process of straddling him, her hands on his shoulders. Joe bucked, but that only made her chuckle.

“I didn’t expect a rodeo ride… but I’ll take it if that’s what you want.” Her fingers splayed across his back, pushing into the tissue, startling Joe. “I was thinking I’d give you a bit of a massage – if you hold still. And maybe braid your hair.” Her other hand stroked through the blanket across Joe’s back, pushing it to one side. “Long hair and bare skin is such a fun combination, and your hair – and skin – are both so pretty.”

Written to [personal profile] wyld_dandelyon‘s Prompt.

Set in the Tír na Cali ‘verse; Cali has a landing page here – http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/22621.html.

If you want more of this story – and I’m sure I could come up with more of this! – drop a tip in, ah, the tip handcuffs:

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/837257.html. You can comment here or there.

The Hazards of Magic, a drabbleish of the Aunt Family for the Genderfunk Call (@wyld_dandelyon)

Oct4

Dr. Elwood had been the obstetrician for the last seventeen Family births. A remote cousin by marriage, Dr. Elwood understood, at least more than a normal doctor might have, the problems implicit in just about everything a Family member did.

Which meant that, when he held Haley Stone’s first child in his hands, he made sure that the nurses had cleared all extraneous family – all of them – out of the room before he spoke softly to Haley.

“Is it possible you – ah – indulged in some way during your pregnancy, Miss Stone?”

Her cheeks were already flushed, but he thought her expression might have been a bit guilty. “I never do drugs, Doctor. Is my baby all right?”

“Your baby is perfectly healthy, Miss Stone. And you know as well as I do that I didn’t mean drugs.”

“Ah.” Her hand went to the necklace around her throat, the one with the wide white stone that seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat. “I – ah… My baby?”

“Your baby is perfectly healthy, Haley. But ah, seems to have been born with more than one set of genitalia.”

“More than…”

The doctor held up the child, and Haley gasped. “Oh, oh, dear Lord, the grannies are going to kill me.”

Written to [personal profile] wyld_dandelyon‘s prompt.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/821593.html. You can comment here or there.

Aquilina at School – A Storybit of Doomsday Academy

Aug25

Written to [personal profile] wyld_dandelyon‘s prompt, set in the Doomsday Academy, at least 4 years in.

The compound had always been full of kids – cousins, siblings, unknown-relations; Aquilina’s mom & her people made kids like it was going out of style.

The first three years here at Doomsday had been much the same – the First Years got put into a dorm room, all together, and they stayed together until they Changed or otherwise moved on to a Mentor.

And now… now Aquilina was cy’Law, having very politely and conveniently Changed over the summer break, and she had, for the very first time ever, a room to herself.

It made sense, of course. Her new wings took up a lot of space, and she was still getting used to not hitting things with them.

But it was quiet.

Her bed was big, and covered with soft plush comforters, and her dresser was bigger than the one she’d shared with a sister and two cousins at home. The mirror was almost big enough to get in all of her Change, which was something of a feat. She could sprawl out and not run into anyone at all; even though the room had little more than the dresser, the mirror, the bed, and the desk, it was still spacious.

And way too quiet. Aquilina hopped off the bed and opened the door.

~

For her first three years at Doomsday, Aquilina and the rest of her yearmates had cheerfully herded from class to class, splitting up only for clubs and not even for all of those.

It was strange to move now with her cy’ree instead – a small cluster of Law students with their bright green-and-orange silk ties and socks, murmuring in the code Aquilina was still learning. Stranger still to peel off from the group on her own and join the rest of the fourth-years in their first class of the day – Earth Science, with Professor Sweetflower. And it was downright odd to sit down in the midst of pink-and-green, blue-and-blue, gold-and-blue, red-and-red, and so on. They might not have all Changed, but they had all changed over the summer.

When Professor Sweetflower stood up, though, a wave of relief swept over Aquilina.

“Hello, students,” the Professor began, in her honey-and-wildflowers drawl, “and welcome to your first day of Earth Science.”

Some things might change – but some things never did. It was nice to know the teachers, at least, were constant.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/788775.html. You can comment here or there.

Deep in the Autumn Air

Apr1

To [personal profile] wyld_dandelyon‘s Prompt (here ).

After Cloaked.

The wind was blowing, just chill enough to make the wearing of cloaks pleasant. The sun was shining thinly through the clouds; although it was only a couple hours past noon, two moons hung low on the horizon already.

Cole was singing. Where he’d gotten the lute, Josie didn’t know; where he’d been hiding that singing voice, she didn’t know either. And she certainly didn’t know where he’d gotten the lyrics to the song he was crooning.

“Her eyes were sky-blue, her skin porcelain-fair.
Flowed free her magic, natural as her hair.”

Josie had once like to thing things like that. Like “Her magic flowed as free and natural as her hair.”

“Hey!” She thunked Cole in the back with her satchel.

“Hey, I’m no poet.” He turned and winked at her. “But the party needs a bard.”

“Here, give me that.” She took the lute from him and played a few chords.

“Three fair ladies went a-walking, deep in the autumn air.
Three dour lords walked a-side them, deep in the country fair.”

“Dour?” Aerich glowered at Josie, which just made her laugh and sing some more.

“Through the hills and through the valleys, into the worlds beyond,
through the stories and in the mysteries, o’er vale and pond.”

“Oh, come on, Josie. Vale and Pond?” Xenia laughed – but Josie didn’t mind. There was something about the air here. Something about the magic hanging suspended like pollen in the thick autumn air.

Like magic flowing as natural and free as Josie’s hair.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/503842.html. You can comment here or there.