aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous:  Thieves

🌳

A job.  No matter the discussions, she knew what Jasper was offering Kearney.

Mélanie wanted to protest - this is a kid we’re talking about! -  but no matter how young Kearney looked, they were clearly already getting comfortable with being on their own. She smiled instead, like she thought this was a great idea.

Kearney looked between them, coughed a couple times, and seemed to decide.  “Sure. I can do that. But only because the lady here is nice.”

“She is nice,” Jasper agreed.  “She’s quite nice, and I would suggest you remember that as you deal with her.  Because I’m not the nice one.”

Kearney didn’t shudder, didn’t even look all that impressed, but there was a slight change in their manner as they looked at the booth Jasper had been setting up.  “So, where do I put this? What can I do?”

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous:  Market

🌳

Mélanie stepped closer to Jasper and surveyed the area.  There were people everywhere. More than half of them hadn’t seemed to notice the shouting at all.  A few of them were looking across the market. A few more were looking at Jasper.

Was she going to have to do Workings again?  Was she even allowed to?

Jasper waved enthusiastically with one arm, balancing the packages with the other.  “George Ridges! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous:  Wants and Desires

🌳

In retrospect, Mélanie thought perhaps she ought to have expected a question like that.  Dressing her in silk, treating her like a partner - she shouldn’t have been surprised that he asked her if she wanted anything.  Wanting her to want things, wanting to get her things, seemed on par with everything else that he’d done so far.

That it took her completely by surprise was a sign she wasn’t paying attention.

She blinked at him.

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous:  Honest

🌳

Jasper was still laughing. Mélanie was staring at him with something between horror and worry.  Had she broken him?  Was he going a little mad?  Was this what happened right before he finally got angry with her?  

“Easy, easy,” Jasper managed through a chuckle.  “Oh, my dear, easy. Telling me that you think I’m doing something wrong.  Being a little difficult? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed at you.” He draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him.  “I do apologize. I know you were serious. And I take it seriously — I do!  — that you feel strongly enough about this that you’d tell me you thought I was doing something wrong.  I know that’s hard for you.” He squeezed her a little more firmly. “It’s just that if that’s what it takes to get you to give me your opinions more often, it’s tempting to go find the nicest little old couple I can find and bilk them out of their life savings.”

“Don’t do that!”  Mélanie twisted in his hold to stare at him.  “No, don’t — please, I mean —”

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous:  Preparations

🌳

“It’s weird,” Mélanie mused, as they settled boxes of goods into the back of the wagon, the sunlight coming down through the trees in dappled waves.

“Leaving? Seeing the house in the daylight?” Jasper guessed.

“Something like that, yeah. Leaving and just- well, just thinking about just leaving to go to town, I guess.”



read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑



The ride back was tense.  Nobody spoke a whole lot, except Allayne, murmuring quietly over the wound in Erramun's back, pulling out the bullet and healing the muscle and sinew and skin.  Ezer muttered at traffic, Chitter muttered at her cameras - including the tiny button camera and mic Senga had planted in the desk, including the one Erramun had planted on a pillar, including the clever little skimmer they'd managed to get on the guards' computer.  Erramun was silent as his name.
Senga was steaming with anger and twitching with worry and said nothing at all.  She held Erramun's hand, even though he obviously didn't need it, and the way that his fingers traced over the back of hers told her that he knew, too, that she needed it.
"There," Allayne breathed.  They were nearly to the garage.  "All better. Damn, are you telling me you don't have a Man of Steel Working in your repertoire?"

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑



“Sir.  Put the girl down.”



“I don’t like people getting in my business.  I don’t people assuming things that aren’t true,” Erramun-as-Eddy snarled.  Senga sort of wanted to be down, because the tension in the guards’ voices sounded like it was ratcheting up and she couldn’t see their faces.  



“We’re not getting in your business.  We’re just gonna call a taxi for the girl, okay?”





read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous:  Owned

🌳

Guilt washed over Mélanie in waves.  She dropped down to her knees from the chair and dropped her head to the floor but none of it helped.  She’d yelled at her master.  She’d yelled at him, and, and, and she’d made him feel horrible, and he’d apologized, which was not what was supposed to happen, and everything was cockeyed in the world and it was all her fault. “I’m sorry,” she gasped.  She felt as like even that was too much speaking, as if she should simply melt into the floor. Would the House let her do that? Would it open up and accept her?  And why hadn’t it interfered? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Oh, shit.”  Jasper hit the ground next to her.  Mélanie tried to curl up more on herself.  No, no, he wasn’t supposed to kneel, that was wrong. “Mélanie, please.  Ow, hey. Mélanie… look at me.”

That was an order.  She could follow orders.  She looked at him.

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous:  Friends

🌳

The towel dropped down and the house shook for a second.  Mélanie jumped; Jasper reached over and put a hand on her arm.

“That’s a laugh.  It’s okay, it just means your joke worked. I mean, I hope it was a joke.  And… you’re right and wrong.”

“Sir?” Mélanie found that that worried her more than the house shaking.

“It’s to your credit, not mine, that you get along with the house.  I’m just really glad that I found you. We’ve had a few, ah. There’s been a few false hopes and a few that were obvious bad fits from the first day, but you — I think you will be happy here with us.”

Happy here with us.  Not well-behaved or even well-suited.  Mélanie found she wanted to smile, so she did, slowly but genuinely.

“I think I probably will be too, sir.  Jasper. And House… Does House have a name?”

read on…
aldersprig: (AldersGrove)
I've been watching Lucifer on Netflix, and it occurred to me that he fits pretty well into Fae Apoc, powers and all, and ah, here's an AU of his early days "on Earth," that is, free of his previous employment...

The blonde women is Mike VanderLinden.

😈

“Hello,  Luci. I heard you got out.”

Lucifer didn't know the gorgeous blond woman approaching him, but that she was gorgeous, called him Lucy, and you keep gotten out told him that he didn't want to know her either.

“I did.” He was to have to work on sounding more certain when he said that.

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑

Senga was sitting between her friends, eating the same pizza they ater every week, soaking up the warmth of people who understood her - at least, who understood everything she had been that didn’t involve this house and -

and

“Chitter?”

“Yeah, Sang?”

“… Did Erramun go to talk to the cook in a towel?”

“Yes, yes he did.”

“Well.  Do you think I should rescue him?”

“Senga, he’s an assassin, he’s older than you, and he’s a tough man.  I’m sure he can take care of-”

“This is the Monmartin family staff, though,” Ezer cut in.

“-you should go rescue him.”

read on…

Safe

Jan. 15th, 2019 05:16 pm
aldersprig: (Theocracy)
This did not turn out quite like I intended.  Like, within a mile of it. 

Post-apoc fae apoc, Cya (the woman), and an unknown viewpoint male fae.

🚐

He was not, not exactly, stalking her.

For one, he already knew where she lived.

Everyone in this area of the world knew where she lived.

They might not have put one and one together and realized that she was who lived there, but she did not always bother with a disguise, and that particularly red hair was like a flag.

Like a beacon. 

read on…
aldersprig: (HalloweenAldersprig)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous:  Thank You

🌳

Mélanie woke next to Jasper and found herself smiling before she had even come fully awake.  He was warm next to her, his arm thrown over her to hold her close in a gesture that seemed less possessive and mo

read on…

Using Magic

Jan. 3rd, 2019 07:24 pm
aldersprig: (HalloweenAldersprig)
Okay, so I watched The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, and I was thinking about teenaged fae in Fae Apoc - non-Addergoole ones - and how they might deal with having magic and here, have a story.

🌪️

“Can I use magic now?”

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑

“Will it help?”  That was sigh-worthy, so she did sigh.  “I don’t know, not about the long run,” Senga admitted.  “In the short run, what it’s done is, uh. You saw.”

“Mistress everything,” Chitter agreed. “He’s like — he’s like some sort of puppet or something.  Like he’s pulling his ow

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑

A short nap and a long shower in - in her  new shower - found Senga unwilling to stop cuddling Erramun.  

Which was, she supposed, kind of ridiculous.  She had things to do. She had places to be.

She had a man who was amazing in bed, who could handle what she did, who had a mind.

Maybe that’s why Great-Aunt Mirabella had done this.

And maybe pigs flew.

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous: Trouble

🌳🏚🌳

The wagon rumbled on.  Mélanie stared at her Owner and tried to decipher something from his expression.  His eyes were closed. Sometimes he muttered into the gag, but it was nothing that made any sense.  Sometimes his eyes fluttered open, but he didn’t look at her.

Possibly, he was still drugged enough that he thought he’d imagined her there.  Possibly, he was drugged enough that he was seeing pink elephants and purple unicorns and hadn’t seen her at all.

She didn’t know.  So she waited and listened and hoped, held her breath with a Working sitting right on the tip of her tongue in case there was enough of a distraction, praying that Jasper would trust her and let her do what she had to or that, if his plan was already in action, her plan wouldn’t interfere with his in any bad manner.

She hadn’t been walking that long, had she?  She resisted the urge to look up, to twist around to look bout between the brutes’ feet.  Even if she could see the road without getting noticed, she didn’t know the area well enough to recognize any landmarks. She thought, though, that they ought to be almost there.

A groan from Jasper almost made her jump - it was loud, pained, distressed.  She bit her tongue and held still.

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑

“I have to ask again, are you an idiot?”

“You don’t have  to be an asshole.  I know how Keeping works, you giant shit, so you can back off and just assume I’m not asking or talking about the bond.  Obviously you’re protective of her.  Obviously you have to obey her.  That has nothing to do with the way you’re looking at her right now.”  Ezer rolled his eyes and flapped that away with a wave of his hand. “Anyway.  There’s a job.  It’s a recon, and if you, mister, can listen and follow a plan, then we could use you.  If you can’t, then you’re staying back here.”

“You can’t give me orders,” Erramun snarled.

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑

“I’m just saying, she knows more than she’s saying.”

Ezer was following Senga and Erramun around the house.

This might have been adorable in a normal case, but since Senga was trying to get a moment or seven alone with Erramun, it was growing a little frustrating.

“And I’m saying, of course she does.”  Senga checked the back door to the garden - the one in the Sturdy - and found it, too, locked.

Her cousins were fae.  They couldn’t enter a house without an invitation, any more than she could. But that wouldn’t stop them from sending an agent, or a team of them, if they thought it would work.

“What do you mean, of course she does?”

read on…
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
🔑

Ezer cleared his throat. “How likely is this to interfere with our business?”

“I think,” Senga admitted quietly, “that it’s already doing so.  I think that whatever happened with that job the other day, it was probably family-related - my family.  I mean, unless you or Allayne have come up with enemies lately that you haven’t told me about.”

“What about Chitter?”  Erramun looked between the two of them, ignoring the staff for the moment.

Ezer snorted. “She just makes online enemies.  They’d hack the house - one of them made the icemaker spew ice all over the kitchen once - but they don’t generally sink to attempted murder.  They think it’s messy and sort of below them, I think.”

“Murder?”  Candavish leaned forward.  “You’re not speaking of Mirabella.”

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑

It took them another fifteen minutes to calm Chitter down that time, during which the tea and coffee - and Chitter’s soda - arrived. The maid bringing the drinks made things either better or much worse by looking Chitter in the eye and apologizing for being late. “I had to feed the moat creature, you see.”

“Moat creature! Moat Creature! Wait…”

Five minutes later, Senga had managed to convince Chitter that there was no invisible moat and no moat creature. Five minutes after that, with Candavish’s amused help, they’d managed to calm her down.

“Honestly. You could have just told me that you were kidding,” she huffed.

“I believe I did. Twelve minutes ago. Although-”

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑

It took half an hour to get everyone settled down.  When Senga managed to get Candavish and Erramun to stop sizing each other up, got Allayne to stop fussing over the staff's uniforms, which, it appeared, had a fashion of their own, got Ezer to stop whining and acting like his head was going to explode, and got Chitter to stop looking for trap doors from which the staff could have arrived - all of this while trying to ignore her own pounding heart and the confused twist in her chest - she sat down with a thump in the Casual Lounge.

"I...  Okay. Candavish, Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Collier, please come sit with us.  Could, ah, someone get me some coffee? Coffee, everyone?"

Her crew were looking at her like she'd grown a second head.  "Okay, Allayne will have black tea with a hint of mint, if we have it.  Ezer drinks his coffee with enough cream and sugar to bring it to beige caramel.  I drink mine black with one ice cube. Chitter likes soda; if you don't have that, she'll have water.  Erramun?"

He looked surprised she was asking his opinion. "Black tea," he managed.

"Black tea.  Thank you."

One of the younger maids - younger than her! - scurried off.

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔒

Ctirad was almost letting himself relax when Signy bowed her head - just a little, but it was a bow - at him.  At him.  “I apologize.”  She seemed to be thinking about what to say next, but decided on a smile that was unlike the predatory expression he’d seen on her at other times and sat back down.

Ctirad turned to Timaios, hoping his expression successfully conveyed enough what the fuck that his owner understood without relaying that message to the rest of the room.

Timaois pulled Ctirad into a one-armed hug.  “Let us go sit and talk with Sara, shall we? There’s some issues I want to bring up with her.  And, as it turns out, with Signy. I hadn’t expected her to be in town today. You’ve been out for a while, haven’t you, Jae’Xanthus?”

“Yes, sa’Slingshot, for several months.  But I flew in just the day before yesterday.”  Something about her demeanor had changed completely.  “And since sa’Single-Blossom wanted to talk to me,” she tilted her head at Sara Florentia, “here I am.  I didn’t realize that I would be disrupting plans,” she added, sweetly but with an edge to it.

Ctirad was still reeling from the apology, but he sat where Timaios indicated - at his Owner’s feet, which was a very nice place, as long as Signy didn’t want her feet rubbed - and leaned against Timaios’ legs.  

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous: What If?

🌳🏚🌳

Mélanie knew, in a sense, that a Kept could tell where, loosely, their Keeper was.  That is: they could usually get a sense of “how far away” and “in what direction?”

She herself had used that ability to steal a few minutes of rest when her previous owners had left her alone, but it had never been a very strong connection.  Once, in a peaceful moment when they hadn’t been ordered to silence, another Kept - an older one, and one that had worn thin with years of bad Owners - had told her that the stronger the connection between the Keeper and the Kept, the less the Kept fought the bond and the orders, the more that they would be able to tell where their Keeper was.

Jasper had only Owned her for a day and a half.  He had been kind to her, yes, friendly and considerate, but that couldn’t had formed that strong of a Bond yet.  She closed her eyes and hoped it would be enough.

The trick was to not be thinking of anything except your Keeper.  That required not thinking about what had happened to him, or that she was out on her own for the first time in a very long time, or-

She shook herself.  Jasper. The crooked smile he got when he talked about his previous Kept.  The way he was careful to introduce her to the house. The way that it felt when he gave her an order.  The way it felt when he was happy with her, or when he touched her. The way it felt when he’d left for the day.

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
This comes after/in time with What If and is a bonus interlude written to Thnidu's commissioned request for more.



Alone, the house checked her doors — all closed and locked, the kitchen and front doors ready to open at a moment's notice.

She checked her security, all of the Workings a

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑

Erramun shifted on his knees but didn’t stand.  He didn’t look at her, didn’t move to touch the ink.  He seemed to be staring off into space.

Senga walked around behind him and brushed a feather-light touch over his shoulders.  

He twitched and leaned forward, away from her touch.  She moved her hands and moved back around in front of him.

His hands had come to clasp behind his back.  His eyes looked blank. Senga frowned. “Errmun?”

“Yes, mistress?”  His voice was rough and very quiet.  He looked like he was holding himself forcibly still.

“Senga,” she corrected.  “Erramun, what’s wrong?”

“Everything is fine... mistress.”  His shoulders were tight. She wanted to touch him again, but it seemed like it was hurting him.

read on…
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
🔒

Ctirad had no expectations as he followed Timaios down a very nice hallway.  The art here was different, less bland, all of it of the skyline, of the city, but from many different eras. It had feeling, he thought, even if you could see the style evolving over the centuries.

Timaois nodded to a man with shoulders so broad he could probably carry Ctirad across them easily; the man nodded back.  “Mr. Kaprinsky . Anything you need, sir?”

“No, thank you, Eddy.  Ah. This is Ctirad. He’s with me, and is okay to enter without me as well.”

“Very good, sir.”  The look Eddy gave Ctirad appeared to be scanning him, taking in everything from his height to his haircut.  “Is this what you normally look like, sir?”

Ctriad did not blush, but only because he had very good control over his Mask.  He cleared his throat. “The face, yes. You’ll have to ask Himself here about the rest.”

“The hair will probably be growing out, but the rest of him is as you see it, yes.”  Timaios chuckled. “On the ball as usual, I see, Eddy.”

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous: Magpie

🌳🏚🌳

The brandy cup kept refilling.  The piles of “loot” seemed never-ending, almost as if the house was bringing more in from somewhere else. And every box and pile needed careful sorting. Mélanie had several boxes full of things and had come up with several more categories - including “sex toys” and “things to tie people up with, ack” - by the time she thought to look out the window again.

The moon was up; the sun was down.  Mélanie swallowed.

“House? House, have you been trying to distract me?”  That would explain why there kept being more and more boxes.

A trunk thumped down in front of her and opened up.  Silk came whisking out - a dress. A dress worthy of a queen, or at least a Contessa.  

“You are trying to distract me.  Are you worried?”

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑

Senga showed Ezer the back staircase for his side of the rooms, made certain Allayne was doing something reasonable and not fighting with anyone, and then, after a couple deep breaths, headed back to what had been her grandmother’s suite with Erramun.

After a brief reconnaissance, Senga opened up the room next to her newly-redecorated bedroom.  “It’s not the biggest room, but I think it will hold your things and anything else you want to bring here.”  She gestured in. “All yours.”

She was not expecting Erramun to freeze, nor the very slow movement he made towards the room after searching her face for - for something she couldn’t quite guess at.  After a moment, he growled quietly. “Three exits.”

“Two.  And the windows.  That door is a closet.... no, three,” she corrected.  “The closet has a stairway up to the attics.”

“Four exits.”   He moved slowly into the room, as if trying to keep an eye on her, and opened the windows.  They opened - it made a little noise of protest, but her family had always been pretty good at Preserve Workings - as all the second-floor windows did, more than wide enough for his wide shoulders and lanky body.

He left the window open and went to the door on the far side of the room.  It opened into, as she had said, a closet. He found the stairway and left that door open as well.  Then he paced to the door to the hallway, opened that, and left it open.

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔑

When they left the master suite - Erramun had redecorated the bedroom into shades black and blue that made it feel much more like a space Senga lived in and had somehow made it smell fresh and aired-out and not at all musty - they found Chitter and Ezer arguing over the other wing of the upstairs.

“Senga!” Ezer called.  “Tell Chitter that I need this space to coordinate the three of you on your ridiculous death-defying missions!”

“Senga,” Chitter whined, “tell Ezer that I need all this space for my computers!”

“Guys…”  Senga looked between them.  “There’s literally two wings of residential space, not counting the servants’ quarters in the back.  There is literally room for each of you to have a floor of a wing to yourself. Why do you need this space?”

“The view” they answered as one.  Then Ezer added, a little sulkily, “Allayne got the wing below yours.  And that’s the next nicest.”

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
The continuation of The Beastie Story. 

Content warnings: dehumanization (literally), torture, captivity, more torture, humiliation, loss of self, semi-starvation and food-based torture.  Off of this prompt. 

And, since he identifies himself, The Man in this is Nathan from Lightning in Autumn (also, for those that follow us on Masto/Discord, what Cal means every time he says "Nathan!" since there's a very long-running story we're working on...)



 

His left rear paw hurt badly, and he was pretty sure that some of the bones in his left front paw were broken.  He had gotten the hang of all of the basic things — running, walking, drinking, hunting — but that did nothing for the fact that he had no idea where he was, had no idea where he was running to, and was pretty sure he was sick with some sort of — he didn’t want to think about that.

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous: Assignment

🌳🏚🌳

Mélanie waited until she was sure Jasper was gone, watching from the window while he got the horses in harness and set out.  She waited until the gate made a distinctive noise, clanging shut. Then she waited until her tea jostled her elbow.

“I’m… I guess I’m not alone, am I?”  She smiled; she didn’t want the house to feel like she didn’t want to be around it.  

Even if she wasn’t a hundred percent sure that the house wasn’t going to eat her.

“Dust cloth?” she asked.  “And something to clean windows with?”

The cupboard doors moved a little, seeming uncertain.

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous: Girl Talk

🌳🏚🌳

She couldn’t put off the other thing forever, so eventually, once she and the house had finished putting her clothes away and she’d changed into something that seemed comfortable and cute - and made her look like a starlet pretending to be Rosie the Riveter - Mélanie went back down to the kitchen table.

She found a pen  - an old ballpoint click pen - and a pad of paper waiting for her. “Thank you,” she told the house, and began writing.

She had been with the slavers for three markets, so she had seen both their holding area and their market pens.  She knew what their feeding schedule was and when they got in new food shipments. She knew when, approximately, they put everyone on lockdown for the night.

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
🔒

The drive was not all that long, although it went through five minutes of the sort of traffic where it would have been quicker and probably easier to get out and walk. Ctirad shifted a few times in his seat, but for the most part, he was still.  He wanted to find a place where he could be what Timaois wanted of him, even if I want you to be you was the least helpful advice ever.  

He opened his eyes when Sal pulled into an underground garage that, while not hidden, was not exactly advertised, either.  The bar that raised when Sal swiped a card was far more intense than the normal wooden gate, too, and there were two of them and a metal roll-door before they reached the actual garage.

“Secure,” Ctirad murmured.

“People who work here take such things very seriously,” Timaios agreed.  “And I admit I like it, or at least, my public persona likes it.”

read on…
aldersprig: (Cali)
Written to DaHob's prompt to my new "WTF?" Prompt Call.  Fae Apoc, early apocalypse.



Things had been going weird for weeks, but Tlalli had been doing a pretty good job of pretending they weren’t.

She went to classes every day, went to work after that, and screened stupid application after stupid application for a roommate, looking for someone who wouldn’t be torture to live with and would actually pay the rent something like on time.

There was some weird shit on the tv, weirder shit on youtube, and twitter was blowing up with the stuff people had seen - and the people that had died or vanished.   One person she followed posted a list every morning. Just an image, black names on white text. It was getting pretty long.

read on…
aldersprig: a derelict house (Haunted House)
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous: Wardrobe

🌳🏚🌳

Mélanie sat with the wealth of clothes on her bed - her bed, her room - and was unsurprised when they began to carefully hang themselves.  “I don’t suppose you do alterations, do you?” she asked the air. The clothes would fit her, mostly, but the very nce trousers would look nicer if they weren’t cinched in three inches with a belt.

The hanger tilted side to side thoughtfully.

“Maybe?  Sort of? Requires you to talk and you’re not a big fan of talking?” Mélane guessed.  She had no idea if the house could talk and, if it could, why it didn’t.

But on the last option, the hanger started tilting forward as if nodding.  

read on…

Experts

Aug. 16th, 2018 12:06 pm
aldersprig: (BookGlasses)
A Fae Apoc story prompted by @SkySailor.  Set in the post-apoc of Fae Apoc. 

💠🔹💠

“Excuse me?  Excuse me, I’m looking for an expert?”

He looked like nothing you’d stop to look twice at, and most people didn’t even bother with looking once.  He was weedy, small, underfed. Fifteen years after the collapse of most of the world, he looked like - well, like it was a miracle he was still alive.

Nobody worried about him.

“What sort of expert, son?  We’ve got all sorts here.” The aging professor had not been quite so aging when the school had stopped being quite the same institution he’d been hired by.  Tenure was, however, tenure, and there weren’t that many universities hiring Labor Economics professors in this day and age.

Not when they were more worried with the simple economics of laboring enough to survive.

read on…
aldersprig: an ancient-looking world map (map)
🔑

Erramun stepped through the door, looked back at her, and looked back into the room.  “There is nothing particularly troubling, unless you count the decorating.” He wrinkled his nose.  “That, on the other hand, is fairly disturbing.”

Senga stepped in, grateful for the small humour.  “I don’t think my Grandmother did anything but renew the Preserve Working on things that her grandmother had chosen.  As far as I know, it’s not tied in to any legacy or anything…”

Her grandmother’s grandmother had preferred pink floral chintz and an everything-matches set-up that made the room look something like the inside of a pepto bismal bottle.  But everything was still intact: the bed with its pink chintz canopy and excessive decorative pillows, even with the hollow where her grandmother’s dogs had slept at the foot of the bed; the Queen Anne furnishings that had been painted just as pink as everything else, the wide windows with their matching curtains, valances, fringed… things....

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
First: Purchased: Negotiation
Previous: Owned

💰

Mr. MacDiarmad raised his eyebrows at Leander.  “Is there a problem?”

He shifted, setting his weight on his heels and doing his damnedest to meet his owner’s eyes.  “No, sir. No problem.”

“Sylviane?  You agreed that you’d take on a bodyguard.  So what’s the problem?”

“The problem isn’t him, Daddy.  It’s you. You! I’ll take a bodyguard, fine.  If you insist that having him under your Name is the only way for you to be sure that he’ll do his job fine.  Have him Belong to you. The problem is that you shoved him on me without taking to him. You know better.  You ought to, at least. He’s on edge, he’s uncomfortable, and he looks like he’s waiting for the rug to be yanked out from under him at any moment.”

“I’m not…” Leander fell silent as she kicked him in the calf.

read on…
aldersprig: (lock and key)
First: Spoils of War I: Surrender
Previous: Out of Hell

Aran left a solid block of the road converted into salt and then, for good measure, the two cross streets.  The slug could move around it, sure, but it would take the thing time.

By that point, hopefully she could figure out how it was trailing them.  She closed her eyes again. Maybe-

“Wait.  It’s an animal, right?  I mean, we hope it’s not a person.  So why don’t you steer and I see if I can figure it out?”  He poked her in the arm and snorted. “Come on, you worked in team.  A troupe. So why are you trying to do everything yourself?”

read on…

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