Alder's Grove

For rix_scaedu's commissioned continuation of K for Stolen Karma.

Kyrie was in a panic. A true, honest-to-goodness freak-out panic. He pulled against the ropes, even though they were cutting into his wrists, tugged and yanked and just gave in to the hysteria. He shouted at the woman, incoherent nonsense that really boiled down to "let me go, let me go, I'll do anything, just let me go."

She stopped his screams with a kiss that left him almost choking on her tongue. "If you are not quiet, I will make you be quiet."

It took a moment for that to get through the panic, and then Kyrie shut his mouth and nodded. When she seemed unlikely to rip any part of him out (She had claws. And when she had kissed him, her teeth had been far too sharp), he swallowed, and tried words. "You stole me?"
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For rix_scaedu's prompt.

"What did you do, Eustace?"

"Why does it have to be my fault?" Said at-fault fella stepped back, hands raised, trying to look innocent. He wasn't very good at it. It was the thought that counted, right?

"Because there are two of us who live in this apartment." Emily clearly wasn't counting thoughts. "And I know I didn't do it."

"Maybe it's a burglar?" He tilted his head towards the couch, and the mess all around the coffee table.

"A burglar that, what, came with a key?" Emily, in turn, tilted her head towards the locked and deadbolted door, the windows with their security grates, the view indicating that, as they had been yesterday, they were still on the twenty-ninth floor. "Or flew?" She looked down at their unwanted guest. "Well, I could believe flew, if the windows were open."

"See? See?" Eustace flailed with both hands. "See? It could entirely have been not my fault."

"Eustace. There is a stoned elf on our couch."

"Euphoric. It's not stoned, it's on euphorics."

"Why are you calling it it?"

"Have you looked under its fur?"

"....no?" Emily wasn't quite that curious. "Besides, since when do elves have fur?"

"Since when do elves ride the Metro? I'm not entirely sure it's an elf. You can get the ears tipped by any good cosmetic surgeon."

"And what about under its fur?"

"Well, I can't think of a surgeon that would do that, but maybe an angry girlfriend. But I think that explains the euphorics."


"...Eustace. You're saying that the euphoric elf on our couch is... a eunuch?"

"Exactly."

Stories for which I have no extant Setting

Utterly Random
The Snow War (LJ)
Being First(LJ)
On the Water (LJ)

Non-Modern Second World
No Parades (LJ)

Day Twin, Night Twin (LJ)
The Dark and Light Mirrors (LJ)
The Light World and its Shadows (LJ)

Space
The Tuesday Map (LJ) Life in the BAELZ.
Birth of a City (LJ) It started with asteroid miners...
Down in Human Town (LJ)
Out of Nowhere(LJ)
Sol Invictus (LJ)
Remembering Earth (no crosspost)
Decanted (No xpost)

Urban
Modern Fantasy
Bleed it Out (LJ)
Twelve Roses and One ()
First Rose (LJ) After 12 Roses and One

Bus Stop (LJ)

The Gift Fairy (LJ) "The job fairy ain't going to come give you a job."
I Want to Tell a Story (LJ) It wasn’t what Miss Kelley was expecting to hear from her students.
Made from Words (LJ)
Miss Midas (LJ)
Gift-Wife (LJ)
The Truth, and Hair-Pieces (LJ)
A Star in the East (LJ)
A True Gift (LJ), to anke's prompt
A Present for the Queen of Underhill (LJ) to moon_fox's prompt
Little Gift (LJ)to moon_fox's prompt
Reunion (LJ) A slight case of being imaginary
Reality Changes (LJ) (and we can change it)
The Norm (LJ) Being Normal, being Norm

Changing Verses (LJ)

Urban Fantasy
First Steps (LJ) The city remembers
The Dark Places, the Numbered Streets (LJ) - Ance seeks a real adventure. And finds it.
Recovering the City (LJ)
Breaking Ground (LJ)
...On My Parade (LJ)
And Before That? (LJ)
Backstage (LJ), technically Big Trouble in Little China fanfic


The Cracks
Through the Cracks (LJ)
"China is Here" (LJ)
The Dark of the City (Lj)
Up From the Cracks (LJ)
The Darkness in the Shadows (LJ) (similar setting to The Cracks)

Modern
The most Interesting Wine (LJ)
Setting the Table (LJ)

Bruin's Birthday (LJ)
Falling (LJ)
Commute (LJ)

Rose Petals (LJ)
Pure Snow White (LJ)

Modern:Horror
Adhara Speaks (LJ)

Modern: Superheroes
Landing Page Here Now

Apoc
Pantry (LJ)

Family Souveniers(LJ)
Souvenir (LJ) A little something from every city

Teaching for the Future (LJ) - unknown Apoc 'verse


Futuristic
Big Brother (LJ)


Learn-to-Knit-Day (LJ)
Lost Day (LJ)
A Toque for Hill Primus (LJ)


Whimsy/Magical
Salvation in a Bottle
Wine of the Swan Maidens (LJ)
Still (LJ), a story for my Mother.
Kirkevaren (LJ)

The Second Restriction (LJ)
Eralon Explains (LJ)

Alien
First Wind (LJ)
First Nesting (LJ)

Erotic
(LJ)

Shadow Rebellion

The shadows were the first thing to go weird....

In the Shadows (LJ)
Shadow of a Doubt (LJ)
Creep (LJ)
Evolution (LJ)

After Rediscovering the City, from the January Giraffe Call.

It was the job of a lifetime. My lifetime. My apprentices' lifetimes. And the handsome scientist from SUNY Geneseo with the blue, blue eyes - his lifetime, too.

The City out of Nowhere was becoming the state project. More than that, it was a state revitalization. The Parks Service had, after a good deal of arm-wrestling with every other department and bureau in the state (as well as a bunch of three-letter-acronyms), claimed the city, set up a perimeter, and started regulating who could go in and out.

Lucky me, as a stonemason, I got to keep going in. The place was in pretty good shape, for its age, but it needed work, a lot of work, and my team had already surveyed most of it. So we stayed.

We stayed while the tourists came, while the photographers and the paper-writers and the linguists came. Us, and then the pipefitters, and the landscapers, and the bricklayers. And the brains. And the scientist from SUNY Geneseo with those stupid blue eyes.
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For @inventrix's commissioned continuation of Burning Summer Quest (LJ)
In Mr. Ting's (LJ)
Mrs. Gent's Lemonade (LJ) and Differences of Opinion (LJ) and The "A" Shelves (LJ)
Meeting Mr. Ting (LJ)and
About the Want (LJ)
Part 7-7.5 of 7.5

Mr. Ting was beginning to creep me out and, what was more, I was worried Mt. Jordan was going to blow any minute now. "We really need an AC unit," I put in, trying not to stare at the silver whatsits. Or the tin with the tentacle thing on it. "An air conditioner. We have a kid at home, and cats and rats..."
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For @inventrix's commissioned continuation of Burning Summer Quest (LJ)
In Mr. Ting's (LJ)
Mrs. Gent's Lemonade (LJ) and Differences of Opinion (LJ) and The "A" Shelves (LJ) and
Meeting Mr. Ting (LJ)
Part 6 of 7.5
"You have quite a bit of interesting stuff here," I countered. "I mean... stuff I've never seen before. Languages I've never seen before."

"That is because, my dear, you have never traveled, have you?"
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Next: What You Need (LJ)

For moon_fox's prompt.

She kept a bottle half-filled with dried rose petals by the side of her bed.

At first, he thought it was because she liked roses, but when he brought her a dozen on their third date, she was so un-thrilled as to be unhappy, and the level of petals in the bottle grew.

And, he noted, his wasn't the only bouquet. The level grew by the fourth date - he brought her orchids, which at least got a smile - and by the fifth, she was onto a new bottle.

He brought her daisies on that date, and it was a nice one, smiles received and a long time snuggling afterwards, until she suggested she had to get up in the morning and he, like a good boy, took his cue.
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For @inventrix's commissioned continuation of Burning Summer Quest (LJ)
In Mr. Ting's (LJ) and
Mrs. Gent's Lemonade (LJ)
; Part 3 of ?


Mrs. Gent was either very easy to flatter, or she simply liked to play the game. She giggled happily at me. “You’re too sweet, dear. Thank you so much.”

“Thank you,” Jordan tried, and, after another moment sipping lemonade, “I don’t see prices on anything?”

“Oh, Mr. Ting sets all the prices when he sees the customer,” she chuckled, as if Jordan had said something silly. “You can’t just write prices on a shelf and expect them to be right all the time. As it is, sometimes we have to change our labels.”
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For @inventrix's commissioned continuation of Burning Summer Quest (LJ); Part 1 of ?


"Mr. Ting knows what you need."

I'm not sure what I was expecting. Okay, no, I know what I was expecting - Mr. Miyagi from The Karate Kid, or Egg Shen from Big Trouble in Little China, or Lu-Tze from Thief of Time. In short, I expected a sterotype.

I know better. But it was really, really hot, and my brain was frying like an egg.

So into Mr. Ting's we went, feeling a little jittery, a lot sweaty, and a tiny bit hopeful. If he didn't have what we needed (despite the sign), well, we were down to leaving the fridge open or buying ice in giant bags. Or dousing everyone in water every four minutes. I didn't think the cats would like that.
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For flofx"'s prompt, with information from this site.

Very likely in the "Fairy Town" setting of many of today's stories.

Possibly proof that I should stop writing before 11:30

They were building a new church, which caused quite a bit of consternation in the City.

Not for the faith, which was as welcome as any other. Not for the construction, not in itself. Buildings were sometimes built, even in the legacy parts of town.

The problem was, they were doing it, as the saying goes, right, and thus they were doing it in such a way as to worry just about everyone.
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For skjam's prompt

I think this is in the same setting as Loaves (LJ), which, then, I think is in the same setting as Strange Neighbors (LJ) and the Fairy Road (here on LJ)

"I've just realized...I haven't seen any homeless people or beggars on the street for at least a month. Where did they all go?"

The words where hardly out of Andrew's mouth when he regretted them. His partner, Cary, was eying him strangely.

"What do you mean, Andy?" he asked, cautiously, Andrew thought. Like there was a secret he wasn't supposed to know. There were a lot of those in the City Police Force. Too many. ( Read more... )

For rix_scaedu's prompt


"What we need," Katydid declared, "is a place to eat."

Jorge looked over at her dubiously. "Like a dining room table? 'did, I'm sure you've noticed, but this is a shanty."

"No, no." Her gesture took in the small jury-rigged building. "This is a place to sleep and not freeze. We need a place to eat."

"Okay, you're repeating yourself. Have you gone to the clinic recently?"

"No," she frowned. "They make my brain buzz. This place, Jorge, this shanty-town, Hoover-ville, cardboard city - we need a place to eat."

"We're all starving, yeah, Katydid. I know that. We ALL know that, 'did."
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For sarah_tv's prompt.

No matter how much they tormented him, Eilon insisted to the last that it had not been intentional. With no proof, no Law against it, and a seeming inability to force the truth out of him, the Jiminies had to let him go - but they held a grudge against the narrow-hipped dryad boy as long as their memory held out.

Luckily for Eilon, the length of a Jiminiy's memory was just barely longer than the next shiny thing, and that meant he only had to lay low (harder than you'd think for a dryad in the city; he spent most the time hiding in penthouse gardens) for a couple months. It did mean he missed Christmas, but that's what he got, I suppose, for messing with the Macy's Day Parade.

He shouldn't have been awake at all, really. Dryad, as I pointed out to him in the time, generally meant "dormant in the winter like a good tree." And, indeed, he got in more trouble in winter than any three boys or three hundred trees ought to.
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For moon_fox's prompt.

Troy, NY is the city in which my company this past weekend live. Along with some really, really awesome (IMHO) architecture, it has a bit of a sinkhole problem. Just a bit of one. Enough that they have a sinkhole team.


There's myths about the cracks in the sidewalks, rhymes and jokes and then, generally, spooky children in spooky movies saying them. But nothing, nothing at all, comes close. Even the creepiest movie is merely a bad reflection of the truth, a bastardization of the rumor that started deep in Troy, NY, when the sidewalks were first being laid.
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To @Shutsumon's prompt.

There were places in the heart of the city even the cops didn't go, at least not without seven of their buddies and semi-automatic weapons, full body armour and a chopper overhead.

There were places, darker places, where they didn't go even with that sort of back-up, places where the roads had so fallen into disrepair or intentional sabotage that the large police cruisers could not make it in, where the buildings leaned so close together that flying a chopper in there would be suicide one way or the other. Dark places, everyone said. Scary places. Places where those people lived.

Ance had grown up in a safe locked community, but the safe locked community had overlooked, on one side, the cheap side, Ance's family's side, one of those dark places, the place called "the numbered streets." Since childhood, looking out the bulletproof glass down on the buildings that seemed so much older, so much more dignified, so beautifully scarred, Ance had wondered about the dark places.
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For stryck's prompt.

“It may be time to accept the inevitable,” Fred sighed, holding Chelsea close. His wife stiffened in his arms.

“No!” she demanded. “When have we ever given in? When have we ever given up? Fred, Fred, I want this so badly!”

“I do too, honey, you know I do. But nothing is getting us anywhere…”

“Well, then, we’ll have to try something else!”

She spent the next week in her studio, writing, pouring out everything onto paper. Their lovemaking was rough and desperate when she emerged, and often ended with Fred holding a sobbing Chelsea, the two of them clinging to each other as if to a lifeboat. When the week passed and she calmed, the sex gentler, the sounds from the studio more like her normal writing, Fred thought she’d finally given in, that she hadn’t been able to find another way any more than he had.
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For moon_fox's prompt.

"That... that's the biggest present I've ever seen."

"Well, I suppose I could have made it bigger, but that was the longest iso container they had available."

"And how did you wrap it?"

"Oh, you know. I hired this company that wraps jets.”

“Why? Why did you…?”

“Well, I couldn’t afford to wrap a whole building, sorry….”

“No, no, I mean… seriously. How do I open this?”

“Here. Really Big Knife, tee emm. Part of the gift.”
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For ysabetwordmith's prompt

Commenters: 0


Lilah’s murderer was sleeping far too soundly.

She glared at him, laying there in his bed in his happy little condo, dreaming happy dreams and not feeling one whit of remorse for her death, one bit of guilt for her blood on his hands. What did he know about how life really was? She’d worked so hard to get to where she wanted to be, to be who she wanted to be, and then this jerk and his friends had ruined it all in the bar parking lot – and all because the stupid jerk’s stupid friend’s stupid girlfriend had recognized her – from when Lilah was Aaron, no less.

She stomped her foot in frustrated disgust. “Freak,” he’d sneered, as if he had any idea what it was like to be different, perfect blond-haired life and his perfect cleft-chin job and rich-mom teeth. Like he’d ever had anything to hide.
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For bubbleblower's prompt, after In the Shadows (LJ) and directly after Shadow of a Doubt (LJ).

Commenters:6


It wasn't until a week later - when I was certain I wasn't the only one seeing the shadows and ghosts, and when we'd determined that they were all over the City but, so far, nowhere else in America and, as far as we could tell, nowhere else in the world, either - that we really started noticing the other things.

Shadows, okay, it's pretty obvious when a shadow points back at you. Ghosts, same thing. When they're stealing the laundry off the line and the hot dogs out of the street vendors' hands, obviously there's something there doing something.

The old lights made them go away, but the old fluorescents were making people call-it-sick-we-can't-say-crazy, and those of us who got paid to do those things made a unilateral decision that shadows pointing at people weren't as bad as shooting ( Read more... )