Mar. 26th, 2012

aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (HalloweenLyn)
The first day of school, Jack always stopped the bus by the cemetery, put out the stop sign and opened the door, like he did for every kid.

The younger kids who'd seen this before giggled nervously. The older kids rolled their eyes. The new kids - someone always asked.

"What are you doing, Mr. Bus Driver?"

"Picking up John Karpen."

"But nobody got on."

"Just because you can't see him, doesn't mean he's not here. John Karpen died twenty years ago, on his way to school. He's buried here. His ghost sits right there." The front left seat was always empty.

This year, a smartass popped up. There was always one, one of the older kids. "There's no John Karpen on any headstone in that cemetery. I went looking over the summer."

Jack turned to look at the smartass, and all the other kids on his bus. "Just because there's no headstone, doesn't mean nobody was buried there."

Every kid on that bus stayed quiet, the rest of the way to school. Even John Karpen, the little brat.
aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (wineandroses)
For Friendly Anon's commissioned continuation of Tasting (LJ)

Liza's restaurant opened on the shore of Cayuga Lake, in a prime spot she'd gotten by luck and networking.

She opened on the first day of Spring, an unseasonably warm day with the sun shining brightly off the deep blue water and a few daffodils already in bloom. Her tables were dressed with crocuses and spring greens, and she garnished her plates with little bouquets of the first chives of spring.

And with every dinner that first day came a free glass of her prize wine, served by a sommelier who was grinning from ear to ear, pouring with perfect grace and managing to chat up the diners through that face-stretching smile.
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aldersprig: (DragonBaby)
After this story, this story, this story, and this story (LJ), part four of three as part of a fixtion exchange with [livejournal.com profile] rix_scaedu

Thanks to Kiss of Judas for the names!

"Shit." They'd been just about ready to grab the kid when all their equipment died. For the third day in a row. "Shit, shit, shit." Ryan pulled out his earbud and threw it to the ground. "If I didn't know better, I..."

"Don't," Chelsea cut him off. The rookie glared at her.

"Come on, Taylor, we're hunting a fracking baby singularity! You can't tell me not to be superstitious at a time like this!"

"Exactly." She pulled out her own earpiece. "Come on, we're walking back to base. Look, Moore. We're hunting a baby singularity. That means that we're out of the main guide book and into the red cover."
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Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/319698.html
aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Sandcat)

After this story, this story, this story, and this story (LJ), part four of three as part of a fixtion exchange with Rix_Scaedu

Thanks to Kiss of Judas for the names!

“Shit.” They’d been just about ready to grab the kid when all their equipment died. For the third day in a row. “Shit, shit, shit.” Ryan pulled out his earbud and threw it to the ground. “If I didn’t know better, I…”

“Don’t,” Chelsea cut him off. The rookie glared at her.

“Come on, Taylor, we’re hunting a fracking baby singularity! You can’t tell me not to be superstitious at a time like this!”

“Exactly.” She pulled out her own earpiece. “Come on, we’re walking back to base. Look, Moore. We’re hunting a baby singularity. That means that we’re out of the main guide book and into the red cover.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning don’t know better. If your gut or your superstition tells you it’s probably a flying tribble, then look for flying tribbles. The target has harpies providing air support, Moore. Harpies. Anything. Is. Possible.”

“Is that the first page in the red-cover guidebook?”

“Rookie, that’s the only page in the red cover.” She grinned at him and got out of the car. “Anything can happen. Your granny was right. Watch out for flying tribbles and talking moose.”

“And wear comfortable shoes,” Ryan added, looking down at his very-practical black boots. “Is there any proof against… whatever keeps happening?”

“Depends on what it is that’s happening. If it’s a conventional EMP, turning everything off or using old-style tech would do it, although we’d stand out like a sore thumb in a steam-powered car. But what were you saying, before I cut you off?”

He shot her a look. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was gremlins. My grandfather was a World War fighter pilot,” he added, his hackles visibly rising. “He talked about gremlins all the time.”

“Gremlins.” Chelsea flipped back in her mental creature list. Goblins, greymalkin… gremlins. “You know, that would make sense. I wonder how they got them to work for them?”

“Sheer charisma?” Ryan glared sourly at the ground. “You’ve met the pair. They don’t seem all that charming, but they’ve got all the aberrant races eating out of their hands – in some cases, I’d be willing to bet it’s literal.”

“Well, they’re singularities. You can’t expect a singularity to act by normal human rules.” As nice as it would be, since most singularities looked and acted like humans on the surface.

“Man, she really looks like a kid.” He frowned, suddenly worried. “You’re sure she’s really an anomalous individual?”

This happened to all rookies at least once. Some of them got over it. Others washed out. “Ryan, look. You gotta just put on your green lenses and look at the flows. Don’t look at the kid-shape in front of you. That way lies madness.”

“Right.” The rookie’s shoulders slumped. “It’s just…”

“Yeah, I know, kid. They look so cute. It’s like a baby harpy, though: it looks cute, right up until it’s ripping your intestines out. Stay strong, man.” She patted his shoulder. “You’ll see, once we get this one contained. Then her true colors will come out.”

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Mirrored from Alder's Grove Fiction.

aldersprig: (Ciara)
After Wolf in Hand (LJ)

Ciara had been asleep in the infirmary for a few hours when a noise
woke her. The doctor had been able to put her back together "good as
new," but suggested firmly that an overnight stay would be good for
her, "just in case." Ciara had agreed - there was really no point in
trying to argue with Dr. Caitrin anyway, certainly not with Luke
hovering over her - and had succumbed, once again, to unconsciousness.

"You shouldn't be here." Luke's voice was quiet in the dark of the
mid-night clinic.

"She told me I could." Amadeus was trying to keep his voice down, but
he had less practice than Luke. "Here, on page two."

"She did," Luke confirmed, a moment later. "But that doesn't explain
why you're here."
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