aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
“I'm telling you, I'm innoc — I didn't do it!  You've got the wrong girl. Definitely the wrong girl!”

Caroline had broken countless laws in the last decade and bent probably twice that many — mostly variations in grift, fraud, and outright theft — and had never been caught.  A great many times,

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aldersprig: (lock and key)
First: Spoils of War I: Surrender

Their horses were tired but not injured; they were tired and they both had their share of injuries. They moved at a steady pace rather than rushing, doing their best not to look like they were running away.

Nikol heard Aran mutter Workings two more times.  The second time, the words trailed off into a string of cursing.

“Just a little while longer.”  The man had tried to hamstring her.  Still. “Just hold on a bit longer. It won’t do us any good to have survived that battle if we end up at the Mountain.”

“Aren’t the people running the Mountain your people?”

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aldersprig: (AldersGrove)
Written to @InspectorCaracal's prompt, also the title of this piece. 


The tree stood in the middle of a blasted wasteland, and the one thing that everyone agreed on was that it was magic.

Whether it had been put up by one of the last mages in the great wars as a way to heal the wasteland, or whether its creation had formed the wasteland, nobody could agree.  Whether it was a blessing or a menace, no two people concurred on.  And thus there were two paths through the wasteland, one that ran right next to the tree, and the other which wandered almost a mile away to avoid it.

The tree itself loomed over its own oasis, a small circle of greenery in the middle of an otherwise lifeless expanse.  It was easily over thirty feet wide at the base, and it loomed two hundred feet in the air.  And yet its lowest branches were easily reachable from the ground. 

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War Prize

Nov. 26th, 2017 02:01 am
aldersprig: (Lyn Calenyena Rin)
Written sort of adjacent to Inspector Caracal's prompt. 

This is set in a earlier era of Reiassan than Rin/Girey and definitely earlier than Edally, although really we see almost no markings of era in the story.  


They had been walking for four days.

At first, Gianci had preferred the

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aldersprig: (GIRAFFE!)
My Giraffe (Zebra) Call is open!

Written to Inspector Caracalprompt.

Set after Addergoole Year 10 but before the 2011 apocalypse. 


There were tourists in the bar again, the sort of people that made what was normally a pleasant place feel like the back of the locker room.   Nathan

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aldersprig: (flower aldersprig)
Pretty much exactly what it says on the tin. Written because I just wanted to write something fun.
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aldersprig: (Swirls)
It was Dan’s idea to call it Chimera-Con, a fact which he would never after be allowed to live down.

Their little city wasn’t really big enough for real conventions, so the comic convention, the anime convention, and the furry convention had joined together into one, as Dan put it, three-headed fire-breathing monster of a convention.

Cute. Clever. And it drew enough attention that they actually got some decent guests of honor.

Hadley Storm was a well-known urban fantasy author, the sort of thing that everyone read for a couple years early in college. Nobody had expected her to show up.
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aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Default)
Over on Mastodon, I did a little prompt call on the theme of moons.
She slipped out into the night and let the moonlight brush over her.

It was a clear night; good. She could use the change tonight. There was an angry man in the party, and when he figured out she’d left, he was going to be angrier.

He had reason to be angry with her, yes. On the other hand, he was an asshole. The two didn’t exactly balance out, but they did make her feel not at all bad about sneaking out when he was looking for her - probably hollering about her - very likely quite irked.

She closed her eyes and felt the moonlight on her skin. It was a chilly night, and the moon was full, swollen.

She didn’t like the full-moon faces as much, but this one would do. The Mother came out with the gibbous moon, the Crone with the darkness of the new moon… every moon had its moods.
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aldersprig: (CyaSmile)
In the Sword and Lady timeline, after
Cya Yells at a Kept which itself followed (but was posted before) Faking it.

“Leo and his Kept are coming over tonight — for dinner and to sleep over.”

Cya said it like she expected it to be nothing, just another day, but her eyes were on Carew and he had no doubt she was gauging his reaction.

She did that, said things without any tone and waited to see what he made of them. Carew still wasn’t sure what he made of that.
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aldersprig: (lock and key)
After M/m Keeper/Kept and Keeper’s Interview and Needs a Title and Bad Titling is Catching and More M/m, when I’d given up on titles and The Driver Weighs In

Ctirad tensed. That… was a bad sign.

Sir stroked the top of his back gently, such that the touch might be missed from the rear-view mirror, if Ctirad had his positioning right.

“What’s your name mean?” Sal sounded completely serious. Ctirad gave the question consideration.

His name wasn’t all that common in America, he knew that. And among fae, the name your father chose to give you was heavy with meaning (sometimes). Of course, he had no idea if Sal was fae or not. He cleared his throat. “Joy and honor, or joy from honor.” It wasn’t a name that brought him any joy anymore, but it was all he had left that was his.
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aldersprig: (lock and key)
After M/m Keeper/Kept and Keeper’s Interview and Needs a Title and Bad Titling is Catching and More M/m, when I’d given up on titles

Sir ran a hand over the side of Ctirad’s hair. Ermenrich had cut it short again, shaved on the sides, military-looking. Ctirad hated it that way - but it wasn’t his hair, any more than when he had been in the military. “So, I trust Sal with my life, with my secrets, and with a good deal of my fortune - and not just in this car, which you can’t see at the moment, but is very expensive. But I assured you that when we weren’t alone, I would not make you answer questions - and while Sal does count as ‘private’ for me, I can’t say the same for you. You follow?”

Oh. “I… follow, sir.” Ctirad swallowed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Easy there, darling. Remember, I said this would be up to you? So. The question is, what do you want to do?”
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aldersprig: (CyaSmile)
After Cya gets ready for a date and Almost Out the Door for a Date and Trying Again and Blind Dateand Catching Up and Getting to (re-)Know him
and Also Needs a Title
and More Cya Date
They ordered dinner. There was a moment where it looked like Manus expected Cya to order for him; then he coughed and ordered his own food. Something different than she’d have picked; she wondered if he did it out of some residual defiance.

She hoped not. She didn’t want defiant, because defiant meant he was still thinking of her as an authority figure. Domme, maybe. She could definitely get behind (ha) that. But not authority figure in the rest of his life.

“So,” she asked, over delicious white bread that tasted all the better for remembering years where white flour was hard to come by, with a dipping sauce of Cloverleaf-grown olives (one of her proudest accomplishments was that tiny greenhouse orchard). “Tell me more about being a judge-and-diplomat?”
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aldersprig: (lock and key)

“Down three stairs here, right - now. There you go. You’re quite good at this.” Sir guided Ctirad down the stairs, his arm very warm and his grip pleasantly firm.

“Would you believe practice?”

“At the moment, from you, I’d believe any number of things, my handsome dear. Did Ermenrich know what you are? How good you are?”

“He…” Ctirad considered his answers. “Didn’t really care, sir. He was interested in what he wanted, and that was about as far as it went.”

“A short-sighted man in many ways. Ah, well. Door here, hold on.” The sound of a door being opened was followed by faint traffic noises. Not on the road they were on, then. Ctirad wondered where, exactly, they were. One of Sir’s buildings? One of Ermenrich’s? He didn’t think even his former master would have left him in an abandoned building helpless to wait for his new owner.

Not, at least, if it would cause the deal to fall through.

“All right, we’re going to get into the car. Here we go, mind your head.” Sir’s hand was very firm on the back of Ctirad’s head as he steered him down and into a car. It smelled like leather and cleaner, like it had very recently been detailed.

He scooted over and felt Sir’s leg next to his, and then the door closed firmly. “We’re going home, please.”

“Yes, sir.” The voice was a warm alto. Ctirad could tell almost nothing from it about the speaker, except that they were in front of him, in the driver’s seat, and that there wasn’t glass.

“Now.” He could feel Sir shifting, his knee leaving contact only to brush against Ctirad’s leg again. “We’re not in private, but we’re not in public, either, so what happens for the next half hour is, at least in part, up to you.”

That was new. Ctirad wanted badly to open his eyes, if only to see what sort of body language went with that. “Sir?” had to suffice instead.
aldersprig: (lock and key)
After M/m Keeper/Kept and Keeper’s Interview and Needs a Title. Also needs a title.

There was a moment where Ctirad thought that he’d given the wrong answer, that Sir was going to be irritated with him or, worse, dismissive. Then the arms around him shifted until a hand was patting his shoulder. “You know, Ermenrich sold you far too cheaply. You’re a treasure.”

The praise filled him with warmth, the way it always did. Ctirad let himself stay as he was, leaned against Sir’s chest. It was nice, while it lasted. And it was a drug, but it wasn’t a drug he had any control over, so there was no point in worrying about it. “I’m glad you approve, Sir.”

“All right. Keep your eyes closed, and I’m going to lead you out to my car. It’s not that far from here. Tell - no. Can you tell me something about yourself, while we walk?”

Sir moved until his arm was around Ctirad’s waist, and, feeling daring, Ctirad moved his own arm lightly around Sir’s waist. “Well.” He coughed, a little amused despite the situation. “I’m not straight. And I knew that before I got collared. But there’s uh. Something different about it when you’re not pretending for anyone but your Owner, you know?”
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aldersprig: (Cya Surprise)
After Cya gets ready for a date and Almost Out the Door for a Date and Trying Again and Blind Dateand Catching Up and Getting to (re-)Know him
and Also Needs a Title

Cya reached over the table and tapped Manus on the top of the head. “Okay. Rule one. No pouty faces in public.”

“I thought rule one was ‘don’t attack you?’”

“That’s rule one for Kept. This is rule one for boyfriends.”

“Oh, so there’s a completely different - wait, what?”

Cya waited a moment for him to catch up, one eyebrow raised in her best teacher face. A moment later, he smirked slowly. He always had been one of her smarter Kept.
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aldersprig: (Cya Surprise)
After Cya gets ready for a date and Almost Out the Door for a Date and Trying Again and Blind Dateand Catching Up and Getting to (re-)Know him.

Cya looked at Manus over her water. The waitress was hovering nearby; she gestured the woman over and placed her order, let Manus place his. She ordered wine from the local vineyard because she was proud of it (and because there wasn’t that much other wine to be had, although she’d recently opened up trade with a place a couple days’ travel away). He ordered whisky.

“You get why I built it?”

“I thought I knew back then. I mean, it pisses Regine right off. The school, especially. Kids that go from your school to her school - oh, it makes her mad.” He grinned in that way that shared in the schadenfreude of Regine’s anger.

She smiled back, because she had been trying to piss Regine off, although it had been a tertiary goal.

“But I mean, that’s the school. You could’ve built a shell around it and called it good, but you have like a whole nation here.” He sipped his water. “I get it now. I didn’t, then.”

“Yeah.” She looked out the window. There was a park behind the restaurant, and through a decorative screen of ivy, she could see kids playing. “I wanted to build safety.”

“That’s pretty cool, you know.” He cleared his throat. “So. Warwick, he said you were looking for someone to date. I don’t remember… well, you didn’t date before, did you? I guess I might have missed it…

“I didn’t,” she confirmed. “This is, well. It’s a new thing.”

“And… you probably weren’t looking for old Kept.” He looked down at the table.
aldersprig: (lock and key)
After M/m Keeper/Kept and Keeper’s Interview. Needs a title.

“How long did Ermenrich Keep you? No. Wrong question. How long have you been under a collar?”

Ctirad thought about it. “It’s twenty-ten?”

“June, twenty ten,” Timaios - better get used to thinking of him as Sir, it would make it easier later - Sir confirmed.

“Six years, sir. Ermenrich had me for four.”

“Mmm. Asshole. Him, not you,” he clarified. “I imagine I won’t know for quite a while if you’re going to turn out to be an asshole.”

“I’ve been called one before, sir.” Was he supposed to be one? That would be new.
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aldersprig: (lock and key)
After M/m Keeper/Kept

“All right. Now… can you lean against me a little bit, let me hold your weight? Like that, yes. You were left kneeling too long, and you may be trained, but I know for a fact training goes out the window when you’re panicking. So. My name is Timaios, and Ermenrich wanted something from me that I didn’t particularly want to give up. That means you’re mine now.”

“I’m yours. Sir.” Ctirad’s voice was a raw rumble. He wasn’t trying to modify it; he wasn’t even sure he should. Ermenrich had wanted… but what Ermenrich had wanted didn’t matter anymore. He hadn’t wanted Ctirad.

From the chuckle from behind him, it seemed like he’d probably made the right choice. “Yes. All right. So what you need to know about me. I’m a businessman - no, you can stay there, lean. Let your legs rest for a bit. So. I know you’re nervous, but I want to know who it is I just bought.”
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aldersprig: (Cya Surprise)
After Cya gets ready for a date and Almost Out the Door for a Date and Trying Again and Blind Dateand Catching Up.

Cya studied Manus thoughtfully. “You like Montana?”

“Let’s just say… I like what you’ve done with the place. I’m not old enough to remember Montana,” he admitted, “but I like the Cloverleaf region. You’re still here, though. When I was here, I thought maybe you’d move on.”

“I hope you’re not disappointed.” She struggled to keep anything out of her voice. Life had been easier, in a manner of speaking, when she just wasn’t feeling things.

“Oh, not at all.” He looked at her. “Something’s changed in you.” He flopped a hand. “Thirty years, a lot has changed, I’m sure. I’ve grown up, changed, I imagine you have too. But you’re a lot more animated.”

“I’ve been, ah. Learning a lot about myself.” She shrugged. “So you stuck around?”

“I worked for a caravan for a while. I’m pretty good as a guard, and there were trade caravans that were having trouble with bandits and Nedetakaei, wyverns and wolves. And that worked out fine, but when I talked a bandit out of attacking, he decided that I should be working for him for a while… so that was about four years.” He grinned, lopsided and not at all abashed. “Turns out I like working for people. I probably should’ve figured that bit out a while ago. But I didn’t like…” the smile slipped. “Well, I didn’t like what he was doing. So I moved on, which took some work, let me tell you. Did a few other things before I ended up with this judge-like gig. I like it.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at her. “I get why you built a city, now.”
aldersprig: (lock and key)
Ctirad knelt.

He ducked his head down low and folded his hands behind his back. He wasn’t really looking at anything.

His Keeper had sold him. He wasn’t supposed to have done that. It wasn’t against the Law, Ctirad supposed, but it was an awful feeling, that way his Keeper’s hand had brushed over his jaw, lingered, and then left. “The thing is,” Sir Ermenrich had purred, “you were a lot of fun when you were new and angry. But now I need to make a deal, and you were the best bargaining chip I had.”

So Ctirad knelt. His jaw was set. His hands were perfect. He was showing nothing, not a goddamned thing. And he was most definitely not falling apart inside.


He hadn’t even heard anyone enter. He rose, like he was pulled up on strings, mortified to find his legs weren’t sure about holding him.

“Oh, easy there.” As he stumbled, he felt an arm around his waist, catching him, holding him up. “Easy, easy. Your legs fall asleep?”

The touch sent fire through him and long streaks of warm pleasure. Ctirad tried to focus on the facts and not the emotions. Someone was holding him up. Someone whose voice controlled him.

He turned to look, but found a hand in his hair, holding his head. “Not yet. Eyes forward or close your eyes, your choice. Were your legs asleep?”

Ctirad swallowed and closed his eyes. “Yes, sir. I know better, but… yes, sir.” He was not feeling any more sanguine about his situation.

aldersprig: (Cya Surprise)
After Cya gets ready for a date and Almost Out the Door for a Date and Trying Again and Blind Date.

“You look good.”

It was no surprise he was handsome, of course; for one, he was from Addergoole, where handsome was the norm, and for another, she’d picked him to be her Kept, which almost always meant that they fit within her two very specific types.

It wasn’t what she meant, in this case.

He smirked back at her and pretended to misunderstand. “Good genes.” He brushed away her response before she could say it. “I’ve been doing well. Doing good, too.” He ducked his head and grinned up at her through a sudden fringe of brown-black hair, a trick he’d excelled at thirty years ago and seemed to have been practicing. “Turns out your lessons stick.”
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aldersprig: a red-heded freckled girl, smiling (Autumn)
March is Worldbuilding Month! Leave me a question about any of my worlds, and I will do my best to answer it!
This seventh one is from [personal profile] inventrix:
Does everyone who does magic work with Strands? Corollary: if there are people who think they don’t, is it just like how Autumn uses ink - it’s their approach, not the fact that it’s different magic?

Also, what ARE Strands, anyway.


So, in Stranded World, everyone who works magic is working with the Strands. Like Autumn and sometimes Summer, they don’t always directly manipulate the strands, and some of them don’t realize what they’re doing at all, but all magic involves manipulating or reading (or cutting, although I guess that’s a manipulation) the Strands.

So, yes, a psychic might be using tea leaves or a palm-reading, but what they are actually seeing is the way the Strands seem likely to move in the near future.

And the Strands are… the world.

Autumn sees primarily the Strands that are connections between people, because that’s her strong suit. She visualizes them as lines, and there are indeed Strands connecting people - love, hate, co-workers, family - everything that makes people touch and make a connection, even eyes meeting across a subway, causes some sort of strand.

They are the actions of people, too, past, current, and potential, streams of movement running through the world; they are the connections people make with things and things make with things.

Some philosophers haves suggested the whole world is just composed of Strands upon Strands. They may be right.
aldersprig: (Cya Surprise)
After Cya gets ready for a date and Almost Out the Door for a Date and Trying Again.

She had agreed to meet him in one of her favorite restaurants, in the back left corner booth. When she got there, she found herself staring.

By arrangement, she was wearing a dark red dress and a gold net in her hair. There was a man in a top hat in the suggested booth.

A familiar man.

The top hat had a red flower in the band; it was either her date or there was a series of coincidences too huge to be likely going on.

There were a lot of people who looked very similar, she reminded herself. One of their great-grandchildren was the spitting image of Leo’s half-brother Yngvi, for instance.

“Hello. I’m told that there’s geese flying south.”

The guard who had set them up had an amazing sense of the dramatic.

“Oh, but only in the… Cya?”

“Manus?” She sat down across the booth from him. “I thought it might be you. I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I wasn’t. That is, well.” He ducked his head. “I’ve been working in Neihart Mt., but Warwick, he travels there for the city. And he said he had a friend he thought I should meet....”

“He said something similar to me. Well…” Cya smiled crookedly. “It’s been a while. Twenty, thirty years…”

“Thirty-three, since you Kept me.”

“I was thinking since I’d seen you.”
aldersprig: (Cya Surprise)
After Cya gets ready for a date and Almost Out the Door for a Date.

The first date was… awkward.

No, the first date wasn’t. The second one was awkward.

The first date, he’d looked at her, dressed up instead of the way he’d met her, and cleared his throat in a sort of panicked noise. “I didn’t realize you were the Mayor!” He stood up so quickly she thought that he might have a speed-based power. “I, uh. I have to go - I have to go. I’m sorry. But I - no. You’re the Mayor.”

She’d gone running after that, back into her “plain-clothes” with her hair twisted up in a scarf so its trademark red wasn’t visible. The guards along the city wall knew who she was, of course, but they weren’t going to gossip about the Mayor and the angry look on her face. They liked their jobs.

The second one, then. She’d been a little poised for trouble. She’d made sure he knew she was the Mayor. She’d picked a place that her power said he and she would both enjoy.

And she’d Found him, after all. He was someone who could like her, who she could like.

And they found they had almost nothing to talk about. She worked in education, urban planning, and the explosive business of protecting her territory. He was a wanderer, a vagabond, who fixed things as he wandered through. “I like your city,” he said, and probably meant it, “but how do you - I mean. Don’t you get bored, being in the same place, year after year?”

“But it’s not the same place,” she’d protested. “It’s always changing. Always evolving. That’s the trick. A city, one with people, is never static.”

They’d stared at each other in mutual incomprehension and found safer topics to cover until the check came.

The third one had lasted several dates and a few trips home. The fourth one had even met Leo.

This time, she’d let one of her friends in the Guard set her up. It couldn’t, she figured, be any worse than her own attempts.
aldersprig: (Kyle)
March is Worldbuilding Month! Leave me a question about any of my worlds, and I will do my best to answer it!
This Fourth one is from [personal profile] inventrix:
Faepoc: Are there any Workings or Words that can’t be used when creating a functionally permanent enchantment on an object?

i.e. the enchantment doesn’t have to be maintained consciously; having to be refreshed every decade or century would count as functionally permanent for this question.


Okay, now I have to figure out how to get 200 words out of this answer.

Enchanting an object - or a person - requires that a) you have the Words required to cast the enchantment and b) you have access to the Word for the object. In a tongue-in-cheek example: Leo could easily enchant a strand of Cya’s hair to change color based on her mood, because he is very good with coloring hair (a Tlacatl Working) and very good at reading emotions (Hugr).

Likewise, if you were really good, you could enchant a stick to throw fireballs, or, say, enchant a collar to deliver a mild electric shock in a situation where the wearer said certain words or evidenced a certain emotional state.

The thing is, anything wherein you are putting your Workings in an object takes a lot of energy. A first-year student could manage to enchant something for maybe a couple minutes. later, for a year or two. And doing so takes considerably more energy than simply doing the Working.

That is why there aren’t more magic fireball-throwing swords around.
aldersprig: (Cya Surprise)
After Cya gets ready for a date

Cya was too old for this.

“Go.” Her Kept gave her a gentle shove towards the door. “Listen… ma’am.” He seemed to suddenly realize he was giving her orders. “Just ah.” He coughed. “I was serious. Remember that he’s probably sane, okay? I mean, unless you were doing your trick specifically for someone who wasn’t.”

Cya raised her eyebrows at him, which really wasn’t fair of her. “Do you think I’d forget that?”

He heroically didn’t squirm. “Yeah? I mean. No offense. But I know you’ve told me your crew is a lot more stable than they used to be, but I also know you built a city with your bare hands. And I know what kind of person you’ve been Keeping for - for forever. I mean, I’m that kind of person. And I know what I’m like.”

She tousled his hair - dark hair, this time - and gave him an affectionate smile. “I don’t think I went looking for someone who needed me. But my subconscious does weird things with the Finding sometimes. Thanks, sweetie. I’ll try to remember he’s a normal person.

Normal. She was surprised to find how nervous the thought made her. He was right, Barzillay was. She didn’t have a lot of experience with normal - with normal adults. Normal kids, sure. She’d been teaching for decades. But normal adults?

Remember that he’s sane. What would he do when he realized how much she… wasn’t?

aldersprig: a red-heded freckled girl, smiling (Autumn)
March is Worldbuilding Month! Leave me a question about any of my worlds, and I will do my best to answer it!
This Fourth one is from [personal profile] inventrix:
Stranded: are there styles of strand-working that are not represented by the Seasonal Siblings?


Next question?


Let’s see. Autumn is reading the connections, Winter is smoothing them, Spring is tangling things, and Summer does… little charms, which are really either smoothing, tangling, or making a connection.

In addition, we’ve seen a star mapper - who honestly is a combination of reading connections and interpreting potential connections. Like a life adviser with cheat codes.

There’s also Severers, snippers. Those are - well, they might not be bad people, but it’s a bad power. It eliminates connections, as the name would suggest, cutting them off.

There’s Binders. That’s different from what Autumn does; it’s the power to actually tie a connection where one wasn’t before. (Autumn can strengthen a connection with the right ritual). Tattercoats is a type of binder, knotting people to his will.

There are people who do many variations on the powers of the seasonal siblings as well - a psychic is a star mapper, a curse is what Summer does, and so on.

There are people who can bend the Strands to provide them with energy - not a good idea in the long run - to hide themselves from view by moving sight along other paths, to protect places or people by charming them with a smoother path or a firmer roof.

And there are people out there who can just grasp the edges of what the Strand-workers are doing, but can’t do any of it.
aldersprig: (CyaSmile)
Okay, I’m not actually sure when this is. It’s in a timeline we’re exploring where Leo and Cya actually talk. <.<

It’s * After Cloverleaf has been around for a while
* After Dysmas has been forcibly removed from the city.
* Not at a time when Leo and Cya have a pre-adult child around.
* Before Cya Keeps Leo, if she does.

And then Leo told Cya she should try dating.

Cya was too old for this.

And maybe, some rebellious part of her brain muttered, she was too young for it.

She checked herself in the mirror for a third time. She gave her Kept-of-the-year a kiss on the cheek. She checked the mirror again.

Her Kept, one of the more clever of the twenty-somethings she’d Kept over the decades, chuckled gently at her. “You look beautiful, you know. You always do. You look regal tonight.”

“Too much?”

“No.” He smiled crookedly. “I could wish it was me, but -”

“But.” They’d had that conversation. She gave him another hug. “The night’s your own. Do not do anything that will make the city guard have to come find me. Or make me have to come find you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” As far as Kept went, he was one of her better behaved, so he only smirked at the unneeded admonitions. “And you, Mayor Cya, make sure to give him a chance, and don’t try to fix all of his problems in one day.”

“…Have you been talking to Leo?”
aldersprig: drawing of a dark-skinned young man with goat horns and a nervous expression (Jamian)
A story written to showcase the Faerie Apocalypse setting. If you find terms that I missed that are not accessible to the non-Addergoole reader, please let me know.

There wasn't a safe time to go into the old city -- other humans liked the day time; natural animals liked the dusk and dawn, and the strange things slunk along in the dark -- but Kelvin and her team had discovered that the stretch from about two hours after noon to about two hours before sunset were the least likely to be dangerous. There was still enough light to maneuver through the ruined buildings, but the teams of raiders that still lived within the city limits had done their raiding and retreated to their lairs, wherever those might be. As long as they didn't stumble right into the lair of either a raider or a creature, they'd be relatively safe.

They'd done that, once, walked right into the lair of something Sully had called a wyvern. It'd gotten Sully and taken off Yonner's leg at the knee, but they'd managed to take it down. Turned out wyvern made pretty good eating - tasted like chicken, but greasier.
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aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
Fae Apoc, for my Hurt/Comfort card. Pretty much what it says on the tin. The aftermath of a bad Keeping being handled by a new Keeper.

"Dumb, dumb, stupid, dumb." Valla had been repeating the refrain for three nights, ever since she fell into the stupid trap from the stupid trappers with the stupid mind-fuddling haze and the stupid, stupid, stupid moment where she'd agreed to be theirs.

Well, his.

She knew better. She knew so much better. And this time, there wasn't going to be any convenient rescue. There wasn't going to be any time limit. She was well and truly boned.

...except she wasn't, yet, which was confusing. Well, they were on the road, as it were. The trappers were actually trappers, hunting for fur and meat in what had, at one point, been a city. The brain-fuzzing mess she'd stepped into had been intended for one of the big mutant monsters. So had the pit trap it'd been in. "Stupid, stupid, dumb-ass, stupid."

"I know." The voice made her freeze. "But it's not really nice to point it out."
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aldersprig: (AylaWorried)
A story written to showcase the Addergoole setting. If you find terms that I missed that are not accessible to the non-Addergoole reader, please let me know.

The halls were black, with only the faint red glow of the emergency lights illuminating them. It was early, and the only sounds were haunted-house spooky: the wind through creaking trees whispered down the passage, two stories underground where there were neither trees nor wind; the whispers of ghosts that probably didn't exist, speaking in strange languages about deaths that probably hadn't happened; the thumping of some giant that seemed to shake the whole compound.

Keely took notes. The sounds were a nice touch, and new; the thumping of the footsteps wasn't new, but he still liked it. The cobwebs that seemed to brush across his face in the corners were an interesting touch, and there, at an intersection that went straight to the stairs, a deep puddle appeared to block the route. An exposed pipe (normally all plumbing was discretely hidden) dripped dark sludge into the puddle.
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aldersprig: (KinkBingo2)

I asked what I should write for fun. This is what we ended up with :-)

“What kind of person keeps this sort of thing in their basement?”

Everything had gone wrong when Ted and his buddies had jumped — or, rather, tried to jump — this group of girls they’d seen pulling scrounge out of their territory. They'd thought they were winning. Then he’d seen a fist, a shovel…

“I mean, really. Don't you think this is a bit... overkill?”

Poor choice of words, Ted. Poor choice of words.

The girl smiled at him. “You’d have to ask the people that used to live here. Me n’ my girls, we just happened upon this row of places that were empty, and since nobody was using them…” She couldn’t have been more than 5 foot, five two. But she’d swung that shovel like a sledgehammer. And, it seemed, gotten him into this... basement. “So we moved in. Turned out it came with accessories.”

Ted looked up at his wrists, encased in soft but nevertheless relentless leather. “Uh. Lucky you, I guess?” The whole basement was made out like that — black leather and shiny chains, the walls padded with more black leather, the floor soft and slick. In the world before the End, it had probably been someone’s playroom.

Now Ted was chained here, caught by this tiny girl with the wide smile, and he had a creeping feeling that she wasn’t planning on playing… or at least not any games he would have fun with.

“Lucky you.” She tapped the nice soft wall with what Ted thought was probably a riding crop. “The folks next door — Tammy’s house, now — were raising dogs.”
aldersprig: (Cali)
begun here.

It hadn't been Cathleen's intention to disrupt her staff and throw a monkey-wrench in her own birthday party. She liked her staff; many of them had been transferred to her house when she came of age from her Lady Mother's home, and thus had grown up with her. Her landscaper, Cahir, had played tag with her in the labyrinths behind the Baronial manor. Her chatelaine, Elva, had been her nanny when she was little. She wanted to take care of them all; she wanted to protect them from her Lady Mother, as much as she could.

And now Elva was giving Cathleen a look much like she had when Cathleen was very young and had gotten herself muddy and bloody just before a big event. Cathleen looked up at her chatelaine, sighed, and looked back at the boy. "It's his birthday too," she tried, and it was; that had been what had caught her eye.

Elva just clucked. "Wash your hands, my Lady. I'll make sure the birthday boy here gets plenty to eat - and a bath. Tomorrow you can tell me what you're going to do with him. Today..."

Cathleen sighed. "Today," she allowed. "I'll deal with my Lady Mother today."

And then tomorrow she could do as she'd always done, and get all muddy and dirty in her own private unbirthday celebration. By then, the Baroness would have moved on to other things, and Cathleen - and her new co-birthday acquisition - could celebrate in peace.
aldersprig: (AldersGrove)
written to [personal profile] inventrix's prompt. Year 17 of the Addergoole School.

The teachers had been on edge all year. Dáin figured it had something to do with the stuff that had been happening when he came to school - portals opening to other worlds, people disappearing and reappearing, miracles and horrid things all over the world, if the news was to be believed at all. But the news didn't come through - no TV came through at all, down in Addergoole. The older kids said it used to work, but something about the shifting wards or the weather patterns had turned out to mess with any incoming signal. Phones to the outside didn't work well either, if they worked at all.

The teachers being on edge had bothered Dáin more than the lack of contact. Addergoole had this way of sucking you in, making you forget about the outside world. He'd barely thought about his parents, just enough to send them a couple slightly-guilty letters. He'd thought about his old boyfriend even less, and the letter he'd sent him had been a lot more guilty.

Mostly, though, Dáin had been pretty engrossed in his first year of school. There had been magic to learn, an awkward Change to handle, his Keeper to, uh, be Kept by, and the rest of his classmates to mostly-try-not-to-bother, as per orders.
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aldersprig: (Summer)
So way back here, I said I wanted to get into the heads of two non-Addergoole side characters.

I asked Cal to pick a setting, and Cal picked Stranded. Which doesn't have a LOT of background characters.

So we have Melinda, who is dating Summer and Bishop.

Melinda woke up early.

She usually did - Summer liked to sleep as if she'd been running marathons one after another, and Bishop didn't like to go to bed until practically sunrise. That meant Summer got the middle and Bishop got the outside, and Mellie slipped out of bed while the sun was still just thinking about getting up itself.

She snuck out of the bedroom on bare feet, grabbing a robe as she went. Their roommates wouldn't be up for another hour or two either, which meant that she had the place to herself, just for a bit.

She settled on the back porch with her History of the Americas textbook, a big mug of tea, and her favorite highlighters. Truth be told, this was half of what she liked about waking up early: this was her time, to be shared with nobody.
aldersprig: (luke)
First part here
Second part here
Third part here
Fourth part here.
Fifth part here.

This story is of questionable canonicality - it probably happened, probably about 100 years after Cya & Leo graduate from Addergoole (or about 93 years after the end of the world) - but the exact date is up in the air, as well as some details.

All Leo lines in this story are as-written by [personal profile] inventrix in the roleplay that sparked this

There were sparks of electricity flying around the air. The grass beneath their feet was damp, too early yet for it to be a fire risk, but Luke still worried. Lightning could burn down a forest, after all, and he would not forgive himself - even if Cynara did – if he caused Leo to scorch the fields outside her city.
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aldersprig: (luke)
First part here
Second part here
Third part here
Fourth part here

This story is of questionable canonicality - it probably happened, probably about 100 years after Cya & Leo graduate from Addergoole (or about 93 years after the end of the world) - but the exact date is up in the air, as well as some details.

All Leo lines in this story are as-written by [personal profile] inventrix in the roleplay that sparked this

They didn’t want a war. Luke took a few breaths and tried to rein in his temper. It wasn’t working.

…avoid making unfounded accusations against my crew, Leo had snarled, as if his crew wasn’t the problem. Luke took another breath. Mike would want him to be calm.
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aldersprig: (luke)
First part here
Second part here
Third part here.

This story is of questionable canonicality - it probably happened, probably about 100 years after Cya & Leo graduate from Addergoole (or about 93 years after the end of the world) - but the exact date is up in the air, as well as some details.

All Leo lines in this story are as-written by [personal profile] inventrix in the roleplay that sparked this

Leo stared levelly at Luke, taking his time about answering. Luke wondered if he was working around an order. Cynara always had been thorough about that sort of thing with her Kept.

“Outside the outer walls,” he finally came up with, “if you want to be completely certain.”

That was a lovely place for a trap. “Good.” It was also inarguably outside of Cynara’s domain. “Let’s go there.”

He stalked behind a silent Leo all the way to the gate. People stared. He didn’t mind. He was a Mara, after all. He was supposed to be frightening.

Leo was not the least bit frightened. They stood on the grassy plain outside of Cloverleaf, Leo returning Luke’s glare calmly. “Now that we’re safe,” he began, with more sarcasm than Luke had known Leo was capable of, “maybe you can explain why you're here unannounced?”

Luke grabbed for words. I was worried sounded too weak, too stupid. You were an idiot was a matter of course for cy’Luca, sadly. If he visited every former student who’d been stupid, he’d never have time to teach.

“What happened?” he snarled. Leo knew why he was here. He was just wasting time.

"You're going to have to be more specific."

No, he was taunting Luke, playing with him.

“Don’t give me that shit.” What sort of game was he playing? What was Cynara playing at? “Mike comes back from one of his little ‘field trips’, and there you are on the front page of this place's newspaper, collared.

“So?” The little shit looked smug.
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Next: soon
aldersprig: A Roman Gladius, with the words "Keep Sharp, Live Long" against a leather background. (Lyuda)
Written to [personal profile] inventrix's prompt

The prompt call is still open! Leave me a prompt: here

I should probably warn: this is on the grimmer side of Addergoole stuff, not for AG itself, but for the apocalypse around it.

Shush had been following the hellhound since lunch.

The 'hound was in three classes with Shush, only one after lunch, but the school was small and it wasn't hard to figure out where the hellhound had gone. And after class, well, it was every man for themselves, and Shush had had no problem at all following the thing.

They were all things, of course. It hadn't taken him more than a heartbeat to figure out he was in a school full of demonspawn. They were all around: the Pretty Ones and the Fierce Ones, the Fancy Pantsers and the Horror Shows. But a hellhound had killed Shush's sister, so he was going after the hellhound first.
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aldersprig: (luke)
First part here
Second part here.

This story is of questionable canonicality - it probably happened, probably about 100 years after Cya & Leo graduate from Addergoole (or about 93 years after the end of the world) - but the exact date is up in the air, as well as some details.

It follows the Apollo/Boom stuff you can find on top on the Boom tag by about 2 years.

Read more... )

Next part:


aldersprig: an egyptian sandcat looking out of a terra-cotta pipe (Default)

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