aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Identity)
For [personal profile] alexseanchai's prompt.



Shut up shut up shut up.

It was one of those moments where you just have to grit your teeth and bear it. Her voice was high-pitched and whiny. Her sales pitch was self-centered and useless. Her clothes fit her badly. She kept looking straight at me whenever my attention wavered.

Shut up shut up Shut the fuck up! It was one of those times, where everything was just a little too clear. I looked her back in the eye and smiled. I could feel what She, not this miserable pitch bitch but the One Inside, what She wanted.

We all have a dark side. That's what my mother told us.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Gremlin)
To [personal profile] kelkyag's prompt

Content warning... fantasy bigotry






It's not something you can say 'no' to, Cathal.

So his mother had challenged him, at the tender age of eleven.

It's just something we are.

Cathal had shaken his head. "No." Her repudiated it. His mother wheedled.

That's like centaurs saying they aren't a four-legged hooved being, Cathal. It's ridiculous.

Cathal had been unmoved by his mother's ridicule, by her later logic, by her even-later yelling. his answer had been No, and that was that.

Nobody thought to ask him why - not his mother, not the others in the far-flung community. Let him pass, they advised his mother. It will be easier for everyone.
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aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Identity)
To @Dahob's prompt here - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/561317.html - written on the bus yesterday.

Farrah came home from work to find herself already there.

Under cover of an umbrella, she unlocked the door to her small cottage. She was humming So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish as she dropped her purse on the table and popped open a beer. The rain was till pounding as she turned around to find herself looking herself in the face.

“What-”

“Who-”

Farah shook her head. “Okay, no, forget who. How?”

“That’s what I’d like to know! How’s you get into my house?” The doppelgänger’s voice sounded… squeaky? Strange, anyway.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
To [personal profile] lemon_badgeress's prompt.
After Family Uncle, which is
after Visit (Footnotes), which is
after Genre, which is
after Sidekick, and so on.


Everything about her uncle's body language changed. He looked at Evangaline again, as if confirming that she'd actually spoken, and then turned to stare at Rosaria. "You brought her here because of a nephew?"

"I brought her here." Rosaria had regained all her tartness. "Because she is an Aunt, because she deserves the mantle, unlike some, and because the family needs her understanding. She brought herself because of her nephew."

Eva wasn't sure if that was entirely true, but it made Willard smile. "Well. Pleased to meet you, niece. Aunt Evangaline, you said?"
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aldersprig: (Evangaline)
To [personal profile] lemon_badgeress's prompt.
After Visit (Footnotes), which is
after Genre, which is
after Sidekick, and so on.


Evangaline followed her aunt through the gate, and down the gravel driveway.

She did not ask Rosaria about the power vibrating through the fence, or the lines of power in the driveway's bushy borders. She was fairly certain her aunt could see them - Rosaria, too, vibrated with power in a way that the family did not acknowledge - and just as certain that she would tell Eva to figure it out on her own.

She did not ask, either, about the tall man with grey hair who was approaching them. The power in the road recognized him; it if hadn't his chin line and the set of his shoulders would have given him away.

The waver in Rosaria's step would have, before anything else. Rosaria did not waver, ever. And yet she hesitated. "Willard?"

"Aunt Rosaria. And...?" The man's approach was faster than it had any right to be. And he was tall, in a way their family wasn't inclined towards. Evangaline had to look up, almost craning her neck, to look him in his deep green eyes.

The eyes reminded her of something, although she couldn't put her finger on just what. "I'm Evangaline. I am very likely your niece, although I might be your cousin. I'm Ardella's daughter."

http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/1561/31708

"Family, then. And are you the Aunt Apparent, or has Asta finally given up the ghost?"

There was no point in being surprised; if she could sense the power, of course he could as well. "Asta passed on a few months back. I reside in the Aunt House now."

"And Rosaria is showing you the ropes, because Asta wouldn't have known a rope from a snake. Well, come on in. I suppose I count as part of the ropes, these days."

"Especially with my nephew Stone coming into his own." Evangaline aimed her words carefully. She was tired of being spoken over like an errant child.


there will be more; it's been commissioned. Of course, you could always commission MORE.
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
For [personal profile] kelkyag's prompt. After Genre, most recently. Yes, there will be more: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/543285.html

Aunt Rosaria had declaimed her declamation, and then she had fallen silent. Not just quiet - silent. Eva had to check three times to be sure her elderly relative was still breathing.

She'd tried to ask questions a few times, but Rosaria stopped her with a raised hand each time. Finally, Eva fell silent as well, focusing on the road. "Drive straight" was an easy enough direction to follow, after all. So she drove straight, and worried at the feeling "archetypes" left in her mind.

"Left at the stop sign." Rosaria's voice broke the silence. Eva jerked the wheel but caught herself quickly. "And then the first left. Stop at the gate."

Left, left, stop. Eva didn't answer. It didn't seem the time for unnecessary words, and, besides, her heart was in her throat. Left, at a stop sign holding down three cornfields and a wheat field. Left, into a gravel driveway that went two car-lengths before stopping at a high iron gate.

Iron. Eva stopped the car, turned it off, and tilted her head to Rosaria. Now what?

"Use your words, Evangaline. Now we wait. Willard will either come get us, or he won't. If he doesn't, we leave him a message. If he does - well, then, you are educated further on what it means to be of this family. Something Asta sorely neglect-"

The gate swung open.

"Very good. We walk, of course. Don't bother locking the car." Rosaria swung out of her seat. "Well? Come on."
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
To [personal profile] kelkyag's commissioned continuation of Sidekick. For the complete story, see here.

The Aunt Family has a landing page here.


"Tragic." Eva was finding her voice, although it was taking effort. "Aunt Rosaria, what are you talking about? There's nothing tragic about Uncle Arges, unless you mean those horrid Hawaiian shirts. And who's Willard?" She flapped her hand. "I know that Willard is Aunt Ramona's son. And I think you've said that he's like Stone, or he was, but he left the family. I didn't know people could leave the family." She frowned. "Aunt Rosaria, I don't normally sound this silly."

Her aunt patted her leg. "I know, dear. Believe me, I really do. I remember when my aunts had this effect on me. It's as if you are feeling the whole weight of the family staring down at you from one old lady, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't have put it quite that way..."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
This is [personal profile] rix_scaedu's commissioned continuation of:
Intimately Involved (LJ) and
Precedent (LJ)



"Oh?" The other women turned as one towards Hessa. Hessa, in her own turn, had shaded towards a sickly pale green color.

Deborah found both of her hands going over her stomach protectively. "What is it, Hessa?"

"I think I found something out. I think I found another time it happened." She smoothed the pages with both hands. "I think it happened to great-great-great-Aunt Pearl."

"Great-great-great..." Deborah counted on her fingers. "That was the one who... vanished, isn't it? Her diaries went missing with her."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Shahin)
To [personal profile] thnidu's prompt
There was a monster to fight.

There was always a monster to fight. it seemed as if they had been fighting monsters forever. Maybe they had.

Shahin closed her eyes, shutting out the world of the now. She reached for the vision, pulling it from the vague, taunting recesses of her mind. When? Where? What? She demanded her power answer her and, cowed, it did so.

The monster was a troll, one of those fae that had given up any pretense of humanity. It was coming to them; it had a plan. An ugly plan, and she could see the timelines in which it succeeded.

They had been there before. She would not let them end up there again.

It would be here in half an hour. Shahin stood up, and spat out the orders that would change here into the battlefield of her choosing.
Read more... )

M for Mimosas; after Why Swords
aldersprig: A Roman Gladius, with the words "Keep Sharp, Live Long" against a leather background. (Sharp)
For [personal profile] inventrix's prompt.

Mikary had heard the calling so loudly she had thought, for a moment, she was going deaf.

She had taken that calling and hitched her wagon to it, packed her whole life into two packs and gone questing.

"Why now?" her mother moaned. "The lovely boy down the street was just beginning to look at you properly."

"Why there?" her father frowned. "There's dangers on the road you can't imagine, and monsters in the woods."

"Why Andrung?" Everyone wanted to know that. "Why the Missing god, the lost god, the failed god?"
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aldersprig: A Roman Gladius, with the words "Keep Sharp, Live Long" against a leather background. (Sharp)
To Rix's prompt: http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/630713.html?thread=3925689#t3925689

"Why are we doing this?" Drakur tugged at the thin veils and whispy pants. "You'd look better in this than I would."

"We both know that's a lie." Dortha was a stout woman, an earth-witch and a tree-wife, the strongest Drakur had ever met. She was handsome, but not lovely, not in the way that people at the auction would drool over.
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aldersprig: (Alexa)
Afer Thick, after Deep in the Autumn Air, after Cloaked. To [personal profile] lilfluff's prompt

"Change us." Xenia hid a twitch in an adjustment of her absurd cloak. How anyone could shoot in this, she didn't know. (How Aerich knew she had a title she really, really didn't know. She'd pry that out of him later. In private.) "I do not wish to be changed."

"Sometimes such things happen despite our will." If she didn't know better, she'd have thought that he sounded sympathetic.

"Would you say that's something changing us?" Cole was pointing along the road with his staff.

What they'd thought was a small village around the base of the castle was, well, a small village around the base of the castle. But now that they were closer, they could see that the town didn't suit the genre of the world they'd stepped into.

"Is that a saloon?"

"Complete with saloon girls."

"Is that a knight?"

"Complete with shining armour."

The team shared a glance. "There's a wild west town." Cole sounded tired. Xenia didn't blame him.

"Surrounding a medieval-style castle." Josie sounded worried. Xenia didn't blame her, either.

"Are we on a movie set?" Alexa stepped forward. "This doesn't seem thin enough for a movie set."

"Most worlds with movies don't have this much magic." Aerich always had to contradict Alexa. Xenia wished they'd get back to fucking and stop all the arguing.

"So." Peter stepped forward. Good, solid, boring, reliable Peter. "So what we have is either a very strange world, or a slip between worlds. Perhaps a Door that someone else opened?"

"I'd say it bears investigating." Xenia stepped up next to him. "Come on, Cole. Lead on, Fearless Leader."

"You guys are nuts." Still, Cole stepped back to the front of the group.

"That's why you hired us." It felt good to be nuts. It felt good to be actually exploring.

The air might be thick with magic, but Xenia was full with adventure.
aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (AutumnTree)
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."
Read more... )
aldersprig: a red-heded freckled girl, smiling (Autumn)
For [personal profile] anke's prompt.

"Have at thee, varlet!"

"Nay, I'll have at thee, wench!"

Autumn and a man she knew only as The Grey One swung their wooden axes at each other, thunking and clanging in true stage-fighting fashion while they splashed up mud everywhere. A light mist was enough, after a few minutes outside, to plaster clothing to skin; Autumn and The Grey One were dripping.

"I did not know this was to be a wet-blouson contest," The Grey One jeered. "If you'll hold for a moment, I'll even those odds as well."

"I'll hold." Autumn stepped to the edge of the ring. "If only to see thee in thy skivvies."
Read more... )

Next: Mud Fight http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/512725.html
aldersprig: A Roman Gladius, with the words "Keep Sharp, Live Long" against a leather background. (Sharp)
For [personal profile] eseme's prompt, after Short/Cut.

"Solange, stop playing with him."

Zelda perched on a tree branch, watching the fight below. Her sister-in-arms had been fighting the creature for at least an hour.

But she'd been in a strange mood lately and insisted on splitting the opponents up fairly - Solange got half, Zelda got half, and they only backed each other up if they were running into some sort of trouble. Zelda had, this time, gotten the easy one; he was bound and unconscious at the foot of the tree.

"I am... not... toying." Her breath was coming ragged and unhappy. Zelda whispered out a healing spell, focusing on the lungs and windpipe.

To distract Solange from what she'd done, she added another taunt. "Come on, you've ended dragons in less time than it's taken you to wear this one out. What's up with you lately?"
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aldersprig: A Roman Gladius, with the words "Keep Sharp, Live Long" against a leather background. (Sharp)
To @RealBrigang's Prompt
There was only one road through the Black Forest, and the Forest, standing between a cliff an a desolation, was the only route between Rondval and Alathaca, the two biggest cities in the West.

Of course, someone had gotten the clever idea to set up a toll booth across the road in the middle of the Forest.

And of course Lute and the Riders needed to get to Alathaca.

"All right. You know the drill."

"Let you do the talking. If we have something to provide, step forward and wait to be acknowledged." Mariam's tone was bored irritated. Lute didn't mind. She would do what was needed.
Read more... )
aldersprig: A Roman Gladius, with the words "Keep Sharp, Live Long" against a leather background. (Sharp)
For [personal profile] kelkyag's prompt

"In theory, it should work."

If they had a dollar every time they'd heard that, Alex mused... they would be far poorer than they were. Because for every 100 times a phrase like that ended in failure, there was once where it succeeded wildly. And Cara and Alex had shares in the company.

"Which theory?" Alex bit, because this new one was interesting. Also cute, but that was probably beside the point.

"Clarke's Third Law."

"Clarke's..." Alex glanced at Cara. Cara would know.

"Arthur C. Clarke. Sci-fi author? Jeanne down in PR is doing some research on his theories."

"Oh, that Clarke. What are you trying to make, Juris?"

Their newest scientist lifted the blade from the vat of bubbling blue liquid. It shone brightly, even against the fluorescent light of the lab. "In theory, it should talk to the wielder, make small corrections for better aim, and glow in a nice pretty way, especially in the presence of ill-intent."

Cara and Alex shared a look. "You're making a magic sword."

"Well." Juris beamed. "It seems the best way to test the theory."
aldersprig: A Roman Gladius, with the words "Keep Sharp, Live Long" against a leather background. (Sharp)
To [personal profile] thnidu's prompt

"Kishiara, the Tower needs men right now." The Elder was reduced to pleading. Then again, Kishiara was his last option. "You know that."

"I don't see why." The Elder had chosen to talk to Kishiara during combat training; she didn't take her eyes off her students as she fended off lightning bolts. "The sorceresses are doing fine."

"Simple biology dictates that we need men as well."

"Ugh. Can't someone else do it?"

"Nobody else was... available." Willing, he meant. Kishiara hissed.

"So it's me by process of elimination."
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Evangaline)
After Intimately Involved.

"Surely this is a question someone in the family has faced before."

It was a cornerstone of their family: they had been around so long, almost every problem they faced had been faced before. Too many sisters? They had faced that over and over again. Too many brothers? They knew how that had been dealt with. Problem with police, zoning, neighbors? They could look up how their predecessors had handled a similar situation. Demons, ghosts, possessions - somewhere in the diaries, there was a note about a prior incident.

But not about a pregnant Aunt. Either it never happened, or no-one ever wrote about it.

Linda and Deborah had spent every moment of free time for the last week - Linda and Deborah, and then their sister Danielle and their cousin Hessa - digging through the old Aunt diaries. They had learned more about the family's personal business than they ever really wanted to know, but they had yet to find a pregnant Aunt.

"Someone has to have dealt with this." Hessa poked Deborah in the stomach. "Seriously. We're human, even the Aunts."

"Maybe it didn't make it into the diaries. There's a few places where there's these funny gaps, like the Aunt decided not to write things down for a month or two."

"Some days that's just because nothing happens. I have months like that." Deborah had not shared her own diaries. Those were for posterity.

"I'm not sure." Linda frowned. "The grannies and great-grannies would know."

"We can't ask them." Danielle pursed her lips. "We can't get them involved."

"Oh." Hessa was staring at the diary in front of her, an old one, the leather cracking. "...oh..."

Oh? http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/522247.html
aldersprig: (Rin)
For [livejournal.com profile] cluudle's prompt.

They were sleeping when the attack came.

They were halfway up the mountain, the tent pitched half into a cave and the goats tethered just outside. It was a clear night and cold; Rin had fallen asleep just a hands-breath apart from Girey to take advantage of his body heat.

That saved their lives.

She didn't snore. Girey would have loved to blame it on that. The truth was, she was closer to him than she had been ever before for longer, and he found that it made his sleep uneasy.

So he was asleep, but lightly, uncomfortably, when they were attacked.

The first man in tripped over him. He'd placed himself there, much to her amusement. He was chained, anyway, so she let him do the little things to protect her. He knew she was doing it to humour him - and didn't argue the point.

Today, an assassin tripped over Girey and woke him up before they got to Rin. He woke with a grunt and lashed out, kicking, flailing against his chains. "Blast it, flaming whirlpools!"

The noise woke Rin, who grabbed a knife and dove into the assassin, blade out. She shoved the gut-cut man down to Girey's feet, dropped her blade by his hand, and tumbled over both of them and out the tent flap.

Girey kicked the assassin, bunny-kicks, tangled in the blankets. What good did she think the knife would do? He only had a couple feet of play.

But she'd given him a knife. He kicked the attacker in the neck, and then in the jaw, hearing bone crunch.

"'Ware!" She shouted it out in Bitrani seconds before another assassin came flying through the tent flap. It was just long enough for him to get the knife and his feet pointed in the right direction.

It was enough for him to figure out how to use a knife while chained, too.
aldersprig: (AldersGrove)
For [livejournal.com profile] rix_scaedu's commissioned continuation of Laziness as an Art Form and Laziness X4.

"So, my Master wants to know, if you are concerned about the number of Kept he's taken in, what you would bid to take one of them off of his hands." By the third upperclassman Roanna talked to, she had the words down pat.

She was also getting used to the look of disbelief, although every person had a different reason for the disbelief.

"Concerned? No, I'm just impressed. I never managed more than three, and I had to set someone on fire for that one." The draconic-Change Yisachar smirked down at Roanna. "You can tell your Master, if I want one of his Kept, he'll know when his pants are on fire."

Roanna gulped. "I'll tell him, sir..."

"Just Zak is fine."
Read more... )
aldersprig: A Roman Gladius, with the words "Keep Sharp, Live Long" against a leather background. (Sharp)
For [livejournal.com profile] stryck's prompt

Aketa had been praying over the sword for a day and a night when the strangers came.

They were Tabersi, of course. There weren't that many people on this wreck of a continent, and most of them were Tabersi.

And of her tiny village, all of them but the children and the ancient (Anketa among them) were out on the boats. They needed the fish if they were going to survive the winter.
Read more... )
Note: for the words Tabersi and Ideztozhyu, see:
http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/342141.html - Roots
http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/349330.html - Taproots
aldersprig: A Roman Gladius, with the words "Keep Sharp, Live Long" against a leather background. (Lyuda)
For [personal profile] ellenmillion's Prompt

"Stand there."

Terena had placed Tho off to one side and handed him a short blade. At first, he'd been a bit worried for his safety - she had dressed him in enough chain mail to make a handkerchief and just enough leather to hold it on, which left far more of him exposed than he liked.

Then he'd watched her go to work, with her sword-kin, and his only worries had settled in to "why can't I move my feet?" and "exactly how silly do I look?" The blade looked as decorative as his armor, far too shiny to be an actual weapon.

Tho knew weapons. He'd been a blacksmith's apprentice, before his village was sacked and he'd been taken captive. He knew armor, too.

Terena was carrying a weapon, a real one, and wearing real armor, a proper breast-plate, greaves, and leather under that. As Tho had learned in the last day and a half, she also had the muscle to carry both weapon and armor.

Tho did, too, of course. But Tho had a tiny shiny blade and tinier shinier scale maile. And feet stuck in place. Which really wasn't a logistical concern, because Terena and her sword-kin were stacking up the bodies before they ever got to Tho.

He jabbed the silly blade into the arm of someone who fell too close to him, just to make himself feel better. The arm twitched and stopped moving.

"There." Terena beheaded someone with a tidy swoop - the tiny spurt of blood suggested the beheading was just for show - and jumped on top of the pile. "That's done." She twisted back to look over her shoulder. "Well, now that I've paid for you, boy, let's find out what you can do."

Tho looked at the pile of bodies. Two days ago, those had been the bandits who had sacked his home. He looked at Terena and her kin, and then back at the bodies.

This, his mother would have said, was out of the kettle and into the fire.
aldersprig: (Alexa)
For [personal profile] rix_scaedu's prompt. Facets of Dusk has a landing page here.

The Door was hard to push, this time; Alexa held the doorknob open while she, Cole, and Xenia shoved it until it opened enough to let them through.

Once through, it was easy enough to see what had happened: rubble had fallen on the other side, obstructing the door. Most of the building had fallen, actually, leaving a single wall, braced and supported with scrap wood.

"Ruins?" Josie picked up a stone, and frowned. "No..."

"No." Steven's instruments were beeping. "No, this is fresh damage. Nothing here has been sitting for more than a couple years."

"Put that away." Cole dropped his gun in a side pocket and pulled out a knife instead. "Xen..."

"Got it. What's up?"

In the center of this, Alexa and Aerich shared a look. The team did this, sometimes. They would wait until their skills were needed.

"How do you know you're in a cyberpunk world?"
Read more... )
aldersprig: A Roman Gladius, with the words "Keep Sharp, Live Long" against a leather background. (Lyuda)
For [personal profile] inventrix's prompt

"...and always remember, when fighting the Hosether, is that the only true and clean way to kill is with a blade."

Instructor Blaias had lost one arm, his off arm, in a battle with the Hosether (or perhaps the Glarth); now he taught the next generation of sword-fighters how to war properly and with honor.

They listened, the young students holding their practice swords, wide-eyed with awe. They listened as he worked them through their exercises. They listened as he showed them how to block properly, so that they would not lose an arm themselves, or a leg or their lives.

They listened as he told them the evil of sorcery. The way that a distance kill was both immoral and illegal, the way that the cleanliness of a blade finished the soul properly, the way that only sword-training gave a truly disciplined soul.

The student Gilcas listened as intently as the rest, learning the way to cut cleanly, for all that he missed his twin.

~
Read more... )
aldersprig: A Roman Gladius, with the words "Keep Sharp, Live Long" against a leather background. (Sharp)
For [personal profile] clare_dragonfly's prompt. Around Addergoole Year 33

"Ladies."

Griselda and Solange shared a look. They turned, two petite women on two giant motorcycles, to look at the man standing in the road behind them.

"Zel?" Solanage muttered it out of the side of her mouth.

"Got it." Griselda murmured under her breath while Solange dismounted and walked forward in short, measured steps. The man was taller than either of them, of course, broad in the shoulders and carrying at least five visible weapons. His skin had the sun-burnt and wrinkled look that means he was trying to ignore what the sun could do to him, and his hair was yellow-white like old paper.
Read more... )
aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Hues of Love)
For [personal profile] meeks's Prompt

They had known each other since childhood, since infancy. Since before that, it sometimes seemed; Kody could not remember a time when she had not know Toby, not known Toby's every line and every mood.

They were Best Friends when other kids were still throwing Legos at each other. They share playground secrets and their first furtive kiss while the other girls were playing Double Dutch and the other boys were mostly pretending to be airplanes. By second grade, when Amelia Anderson was playing Who Will We Wed, nobody had any question: Kody and Toby, forever.

In Jr. High, that morphed into K&T 4-evah, and they moved from hidden kisses to very visible necking. The question became Who Are You Going to the Dance With, and, again, nobody needed to ask them.
Read more... )
aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Shades of Love)
To [livejournal.com profile] ellenmillion's prompt

The hard part wasn't getting them home.

Rosario had never had any trouble getting people - men, women, those of non-binary status - to come home. A smile, a suggestion, a wiggle of properly-toned ass, that was all it took. Everything about Rosario's body, club wardrobe, make-up; it was all designed with the hook, the line, and the sinker in mind.

The hard part wasn't getting them to come back.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
For [profile] realbrigang's prompt. Thanks to @inventrix and @dahob for the names.

By most measures, they'd had enough warning.

They'd gotten enough advance notice, between Iesult's spotty and erratic future-seeing and Gerauld's contacts in the government, to know when things were going to go weird. They'd had enough time to hit the stores before everything was stripped down to lime juice and off-brand saltines. They'd even had enough time, in part due to Khalim's money-market philandering, to get a cabin off in the middle of nowhere and stock it up.

They'd had enough time to get themselves safe, in other words. They had time to warn their friends and family, in vague or concrete terms, depending on whose kin and kin, and how close they felt to them. They had time to get five of their closest to a nearby cabin, even.
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aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Shades of Love)
For [personal profile] itsamellama's Prompt.

Moore is from a story I'm working on for Addergoole: Year 9, although he's a Yr. 16 Student.

Cumhai is from A Couple Helping Hands and Littermate and Strange Favors

Addergoole has a landing page here


"Found anyone you like yet?" Cúmhaí tossed Moore a beer and flopped down in the chair across from him.
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aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Hues of Love)
For [personal profile] imaginaryfiend's prompt. Doug and Ana are Addergoole characters. Addergoole has a landing page here

"She's a dancer."

That's what Luke had said.

Doug looked at the girl. She was short, muscular, and lush, her black curls tied into a ponytail. She'd shown up ready to dance.

"Dance." If she couldn't handle him being short, she wasn't going to be able to handle him.

She set down her MP3 player, turned up the music, and started....

It was dancing, Doug had to admit, but it was just about having sex with an invisible partner. He found his pants getting tighter. Shit. "Not this bump and grind shit," he snarled. "Dance."
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aldersprig: (Cali)
After Laziness as an Art Form. From [personal profile] rix_scaedu's commissioned continuation.

They said the words. If they had a choice, it wasn't a good one.

Then to add insult to insult, their captor - Segenam, she supposed - spit on their faces. Somehow, this dissolved the sticky webs, and left them sitting on the floor, rubbing their eyes.

Then he explained what they'd just agreed to. How they Belonged to him. He gave a couple demonstrations. Roanna only needed one.

"So now what?" She was trying to gain some equilibrium. She wasn't sure, given the situation, that that was possible. But she'd adjusted to everything else so far. She could adjust to this.
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aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Hues of Love)
To [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith's prompt.

"It's really not his fault."

Cupido Tertius wasn't sure that having his mother clasp him to her ample chest and defend him was really what he wanted.

On the other hand, it kept the crowd of angry gods and goddesses from getting too close.

"My goat..." one of them began to protest. Another one bellowed over him.

"My wife!"
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aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Default)
To [personal profile] clare_dragonfly's prompt.
Addergoole has a landing page here


It was the easy joke that Abrelle was cold. Ha, ha. Snake, cold-blooded. Emotionally frigid. She'd gotten through three years of Addergoole without making very many friends; her former Keeper's crew sufficed for companionship and back-watching, and her former Keeper had taken care of the first of her required two children for her.

It was the easy joke that she was cold, and she preferred it like that. If nobody thought she had emotions, nobody would try to get in. If nobody tried to get in (The way her former Keeper had. The way their child had) then nobody could hurt her again.

~Read more... )
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
This was written to To [personal profile] sharpeningthebones's prompt(s).

"Everybody dance."

The Ahme were a peaceful, happy people. Tonight, on the fullness of three moons, their music swirled over the forest.

"Everybody step, forward now, left foot out. Backward now, left foot in. That's it, everybody dance." The Ahme had taken the first opportunity to go into space, rough-colonizing instead of waiting for the full terraforming, accepting the steps backwards in technology, embracing them.

"Everybody back, bow to the fire, bow to your partner. All lovers dance. All lovers, swirl." They were, as a culture, very happy, and very relaxed.

"That's it, beloveds, twist around. Grab your partners, swing them down. All lovers dance, all lovers sing. Ah-neee-ah-ne. Ah-neeee-ah-ne."

They never saw the Tovane coming.
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aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (audra)
This was written to To [personal profile] anke's prompt.

Addergoole has a landing page here; Audra, Carrig, and Chaney were first seen in White Knights, 8/31/2011.

Audra is Kailani's daughter by Conrad.

I just read the TV Trope Generation Xerox and worry a bit about that with this, esp. considering what Morganna is doing in this story.
.

Carrig and Chaney seemed more interested in Audra than seemed reasonable. There were prettier girls in the school; there were certainly more charming, friendly girls than she was. Her first question to the both of them, once they'd stopped scolding each other for long enough to talk to her, had been "where's a laboratory that I can set up in?"

She'd been more than a little pleased to have stumped them with that one.
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aldersprig: (wine)
This was written to To [livejournal.com profile] kelkyag's prompt.

To fix a memory in your mind, associate it with a sense.

As some might guess, I prefer taste-and-smell.

So the way he feels when he presses against me and kisses me reminds me of smoked paprika, his hand on the back of my neck, his hair trailing across my neck.

The way his words sound, when he tells me - and I must remember these words - that I am the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Those words, they are like the finest chocolate, a little too sweet, but rich and lingering on the tongue.

The way his back looks when he leaves after that first date, as if he's uncertain, his shoulders pulled forward, remind me of lime zest: tangy, and a bit bitter.

When he comes back for seconds, before he's gotten to his car: cheesecake, drizzled in raspberry sauce.

Those moments are nice. Those are warm moments. Tasty moments.

I have citric acid on the shelf, cayenne pepper, noni juice, for moments that were not as nice.

And I have this moment, that I wish to remember more than anything. This moment, with his eyes so big and blue and hovering right on the edge of pain/love/need. Right where he might fall, or might not.

And if his first romantic words were chocolate, this, this is chocolate liqueur poured over pound cake. This is a moment to savor. He might have, once, been spinning a story. Now he's in love. And it tastes like the best thing I have ever cooked.

Some people have a Roman House. I have a Roman kitchen to store my memories in. And I'll put him on the shelf next to the others.
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
This was written to To [livejournal.com profile] rix_scaedu's prompt.

Fae Apoc has a landing page here



The town of Jefferson had survived the Disaster and the subsequent fall of most of civilization more intact than it had any right to expect.

It wasn't the only place to survive, of course - people who thought ahead generally did fine, places that were far from cities did better. But Jefferson was a whole town where the power still ran, the water and sewers still worked, and people lived relatively normal lives, if in a tighter scope than before.

And all they had had to do is swear allegiance to the man on the hill.

For nearly fifty years, the man on the hill had kept Jefferson safe from everything from dysentery to rampaging dinosaurs. He'd imported doctors, and then people so inclined to learn how to be the next generation of doctors. He'd made sure there were farmers enough to farm the land, and fuel enough to make the tractors run. He made sure the power ran, and the water flowed.
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aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Shades of Love)
This was written to To [livejournal.com profile] wyld_dandelyon's prompt. It didn't turn out quote the way I wanted, but it's kind of neat anyway.

When the days were at their shortest and the world growing cold and nothing would grow, a member of the reigning family would don the purple and sit on the throne. And there, there they would hear the needs of the people.

For this purpose, the reigning family was brought up to be wise, educated, calm, and unflappable. They were treated as kings for the spring and the summer, treated as emperors for the autumn, because in the winter, one of them would don the purple.

In a mild winter, the duty was not onerous. A mild winter after a fruitful summer, especially, made for light sitting on the throne, and a purple that sat lightly on the shoulders. And the world had had, in this time, many light years.
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