aldersprig: (Cali)
For DaHob, a ficlet of Tír na Cali.  
“So… you’re pretty normal?”

As far as come-on lines went, Barty had definitely heard worse.  He’d heard better a couple times, sure, but while he was okay-looking, he wasn’t usually the hottest guy in the bar and definitely wasn’t the richest in any room

read on…
aldersprig: (Cali)


They had been meant to be field workers, fodder, perhaps sacrifices to the Goddess if the year was lean.

Their parents didn’t even know each other.  They had been “suggested” to breed by the simple expedient of feeding them the strongest aphrodisiac drugs and then locking them in a small padded room together with nothing else to do.  The farm needed workers, and, in a year like this, sometimes the Goddess needed a couple brought to her side to help them.  Nobody spoke of that, of course, like a pile of other things that nobody spoke of, but it still happened.

read on...

aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)

Originally posted April 15, 2012. 


“So what do I do?” He couldn’t help but betray his common roots, she knew, or his American upbringing, but here and now, it rankled.

Read On

Originally written March 8, 2012, as a belated birthday present for my mother.  It’s about a magical moment.


The forest was still that day.

Read On


Their walk took them further and further out past the stem of Aereaxera , past dozens and dozens of the little hezzai-ai and several other fascinating creatures.  Cartwright stopped three times to gather plant bundles, which he hung off of his pack till he began to look like a sort of walking herbery.

Open to all Patrons!

aldersprig: (Cooking)

So we tried a thing last night and it actually turned out well!

We had ground beef to eat and it was way too hot for eating spaghetti or hamburgers or anything too hot.
Available for all "Recipe Box" patrons!

Originally posted June 16, 2011.
The sushi bar had a mermaid in its fish tank.

I was new in town, having just recently parlayed my experience with the Agency into a cushy consulting gig and my hazard pay into a nice little house...

Read on!

These are walking onions. They make bulbs on the top of their stalks, which make another stalk with another bulb, which makes… you guessed it, another stalk with another bulb!!

Take a Peek!
aldersprig: (Cali)
After Kitties and Fancy-Dressed Kitties

Rrian, the new assistant gardener for Lady Enasshi, found himself spending his off time looking at the other slaves on the estate.

Helena, the chatelaine, had a very subtle mod - she had cat eyes and slightly pointed, slightly tufted ears, and a slight change in the way she walked. To look at her move around the estate, you’d have thought she had been raised from day one to be a fine lady’s chatelaine.

And maybe she had, Rrian reminded himself. Not all moddies were made or raised by the Agency, the way he had.

Tabitha, the assistant chef, definitely had been. The way she handled a knife was terrifying. The way she looked at Rrian - now that was something.

He let her stalk him into the rear garden when he was off-duty, leaving enough of a trail that even a full human might have been able to find him. She didn’t need it. But he wanted to be sure she knew he was aiming to be followed.

She caught him by the fountain of Enasshi’s royal ancestor Tertia, pounced on him and knocked him to the ground. Rrian looked up at her and smiled.

“You were Agency,” she accused. She sniffed the sides of his neck. He bared his neck to her, because she was sharp.

“So were you.” He grinned at her, all sharp teeth. “And here we are.”

She settled back on her heels, straddling his thighs, looking at him. “So what do we do now?”

“Well… According to what the head gardener, the chatelaine, and our Lady herself has told me… on our time off? Anything we want.”
aldersprig: (Cali)
After Kitties

Enasshi’s new assistant gardener tugged at the sleeves of his coat. “This is…” He coughed.

“It is,” agreed the head gardener, a fox moddie who was wearing breeches and nothing else. “The good news is, when you’re in the back yard, the gardens, or anywhere but the front yard or the public spaces, just wear the pants - and the shirt if you want it. The rest is for public places.”

The assistant gardener looked down at the pile of clothing in his arms. “So she knows we get it dirty, ‘cause there’s seven changes of clothes here. But there’s seven changes of clothes here. I think that costs more than she spent on me.”

“Let’s be honest.” The head gardener smirked. “She doesn’t spend all that much on us.”

The assistant gardener looked up, startled. “…Us?”

“Oh, come on, kid, you didn’t think you were the only one, did you? No, this is on purpose. Here, sit down, put those clothes down. Nobody does yard work at noon, anyway. No.” The head gardener tucked his tail around a stool as he sat down. “She found out about the moddies that don’t work out. ‘Unsuitable’ moddies. Don’t you dare tell anyone I told you, but Helena, the chatelaine, she was first. And after that - there’s not an unmodified staff member left in the house.”

“We’re… all ‘unsuitable?’” Suddenly the assistant gardener looked frightened. “But isn’t that dangerous?”
aldersprig: (Cali)
There had always been something a little strange about the Baroness Enasshi ni Firanne O Tertia’s household.

To be fair, the entire O Tertia household had been strange right from its founding, and their little barony, barely more than a town and some fields, drew more attention than something its size had any right to.

But ever since Enasshi - and what sort of name was that? - took over from her mother Firanne (speaking of names) on that worthy’s seventieth birthday (speaking of anomalies; most Baronesses had to wait until their mother died, not just until they turned seventy; seventy was nothing to the children of the gods), the little Barony’s little household had gotten even stranger.

Lady Enasshi had spent three years in Great Britain when she was in her early twenties, something that was not unheard-of but not all that common, and there were those who suggested that it might be a British influence. Others suggested the two years in Japan, the year in France, or even the six months she’d spent touring Africa. As a rule, it was generally agreed that, for a Californian noble, she’d spent far, far too much time overseas.

Which might be what they could blame for her staff, almost all bred moddies somehow unsuitable for Agency service. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with having genetically-modified staffers. It wasn’t even that there was anything wrong with having them as your butler and maid, your cook and your groundskeeper. (There was something a little questionable about having one as one’s Consort, but the Lady’s choice and the Consort’s were sacrosanct in that matter, and absolutely nobody was going to tell Lady Enasshi that she couldn’t have a dapper, well-turned-out cat-boy as her Consort.) It was just that, in addition to the oddity of a staff that was almost entirely moddies, from the chatelaine down to the pot-boy, in a rather well-appointed household, Enasshi insisted on dressing every single one of them in beautiful and elaborate livery that wasn’t now and had never been the style in Tír na Cali.

Most Californian nobles dressed their slaves simply- khakis and shirts with the household monogram was common - saving the frou-frou and ornamentation for their companions, their butler (only sometimes) and fancy-dress parties. Visiting their houses, even the house of a Countess, was like visiting a friend. Everything was casual. With Lady Enasshi, not so much.

“I don’t know what to wear,” bemoaned the youngest daughter of the Baroness Stasia ni Ysabet. “The last time I went to a lunch at Enasshi’s, the boy trimming the weeds was better dressed than I was. And I was in couture!”

aldersprig: (Vas tree)

For March, that month when large portions of America pretend to be Irish, I bring you my fictional family of Irish in the Americas - the Tuatha Dé Danann in Tír na Cali. This piece was originally written in August of 2011.
Ireland, 1685

The witch looked over the table at her cousin, a pretty young thing that, until now, everyone had assumed was just daft. The girl was floating the dishes in the air, all of the dishes, weaving them in and out in a series of loops that looked like a Maypole dance.
Read on...

This ficlet began my Vas' World series of stories, a world-exploration featuring a small landing team of planetary explorers. It was originally posted in January, 2011.

They followed the newly-named Yarthout River all day, their little craft handling its rapids with a smoothness and ease that surprised Vas. Wisely, he kept his surprise to himself; Malia and Ezra would be unbearable enough about their success without him acknowledging it. The boat had been their idea, after all: a quicker way to take a survey of this uninhabited planet.

Read On!
aldersprig: (Cali)

 Repost Story: Lab Rat 

This story was written to a Mini-Giraffe Call for Transitions back in 2013.  It's set in the furry sub-setting of Tír na Cali - "Cali Catpeople," as I usually call it and is meant to be light-hearted. 

"Engage in some scientific experimentation," the Agency guy had said. "Earn your freedom," they'd said. "Just two years in our scientific facility, and you can go free," they'd promised. 

They'd strapped Robert and Eric to tables, at which point they'd both started complaining. 

aldersprig: (Cali)

Two lawyers and a judge bent over the paperwork,nearly-identical frowns on their faces.
Outside, in the waiting room, a red-haired manwaited with all appearance of patience. He was wearing a slim goldencollar beneath the open-necked shirt of his expensive suit and a much less slimring on his left ring finger.

“Is it legal?” the left-hand lawyer frowned.

read on...
aldersprig: (Cali)
This month's Patreon theme is Tír na Cali, which got me thinking...

One of the things that always gets me about Tír na Cali is the way it started out slightly sci-fi and, more and more, ends up being modern-era in terms of the technology.

When I started working on Cali, smartphones had not yet come into existence. I thought I was making somewhat magical technology:

Collars with a chip that could be read by any police officer with a reader (probably a smartphone ap now) and tracked by anyone with the right information. Collars with technology small enough to carry all of a slave's "papers" in an easily-transferable format right on the collar. Electronic "keys" the size of a pen (micro-usb?) with a thumbprint reader and the ability to change a collar's permissions, update or download the data therein, and so on.

And those permissions: collars that "knew" where a slave was allowed to go and, in one case, a "smart home" with doors that would not unlock if the collar approaching it didn't have the right permissions.

Certainly, Cali still has a wide range of things that can’t be done by modern tech — changing someone into a cat-person hybrid, changing someone’s gender at the genetic level, complete rebuild of a limb, just for a few examples — but that is all covered under their magic, not under their tech.

Basically, in the time I’ve been playing with this setting, their tech has gone from being cutting-edge stuff that didn’t exist in the mainstream to being — if I hadn’t updated it as I went along — a little backwards. I mean, really, shouldn’t that collar be able to serve as a Bluetooth headset? What do you mean, you can’t text from your slave collar? No streaming videos?

...okay, now I’m wandering off on a whole new brainstorm. *wanders off, muttering about wi-fi hotspots*

*pops back in* New to Tír na Cali? I updated the landing page with a few suggestions for starting places.
aldersprig: (Cali)

Rather than actually repost these two stories, because of the length, I am going to link to their beginnings.
They were meant for a Tír na Cali sourcebook, as fiction explaining setting. One takes the POV of a kidnappee, the other of a slave born into the life.

They're old, but they give a good view of some of the bones of the setting.

Read On...
aldersprig: (Cali)

The collar clicking around Trey's neck was supposed to be the culmination of months - years - of planning, the final realization of all his hopes and dreams.

It made the feeling all that much more sour. This collar wasn't pretty, like the ones in the contraband romance novels. It wasn't light and airy, it wasn't comfortable, like the ones Trey had played with, in underground clubs and quiet swing parties. It didn't come with nice words and a quiet understanding of his place in the world, a sense of comfortable inevitability, a sense of honored submission.

read on...
aldersprig: (Cali)

The Baroness and the Pauper

A story of Tír na Cali

Nora shifted from foot to foot. She felt awkward and uncomfortable; standing here, in the manor house, she felt grubby, her skin itchy. “Look, if this is about the thing with the overseer...” She’d only been a slave for six months. She’d spent most of it getting in trouble, and most of that annoying the overseer. Who worked for this woman, this… Baroness.

Inside her shower, the Baroness... (read on...)

You can get stories like this every month!

Support my on Patreon - pledge just $5/month to prompt stories every month and $1/month to read them all!
aldersprig: (Cali)
After Cali, Femdom, Catgirlsand Part II.

"So." The cat-girl, the woman who owned him, Lady Sharanna (all of that in a petite and terrifying package), slipped behind the wheel of the car and started the engine with a button-push. "Why did you fight them?"

Daniel swallowed his first response, and then decided maybe it was the best answer. "They kidnapped me. They took my clothes. They stuck a collar on me."

After a moment that had gone on long enough that Daniel had begun to worry, "Those are," she said thoughtfully, "rather good reasons to fight. But it got you..."

"Bruised. Chained." Daniel shrugged defensively. "It made a point."

"Ah." She let the silence drag on again. "So... what point are you making now?"

"Now?" It was his turn to hesitate, giving it more thought than he'd thought he'd have to. "Now... I guess I'm proving that if you treat me like a person, I can act like a reasonable hu- a reasonable being, too."

She pulled the car out of the parking garage, a smile growing on her face. "Good." It was still a very sharp smile, but this time Daniel actually felt a little reassured. "I like that point."
aldersprig: (Cali)
begun here., continued here

There was so much askew with the world and Trevor’s life had gone completely mad. The only thing he could do was focus on the facts.

He had been stealing - pick-pocketing mostly - and then he had been captured. He’d been given new pants and a collar, his shirt taken away, and then a rich-looking woman had stopped what she was doing to stare at him. He’d been taken home and fed, strange food but tasty, and that had somehow gotten the rich woman in trouble.

And now a maternal-acting woman had fed him even more food. “Her timing is a little bad,” she fussed, “but that isn’t your fault. You’re a skinny thing, aren’t you? Here, have another tart. Herself won’t eat things like this, but that doesn't mean we can’t make them even when She’s visiting.”

The fussing went on. Trevor took in what he could and filed the rest for later study. He was fed, he was given a place to sleep, he was given clean clothes for the second time in two days, and he’d been admonished not to run off, as if they’d done anything to suggest he ought to. If anything, they’d given him too much to keep him there.

When Elva, the matronly woman, found him an hour later, he was naked save for the collar - which, it turned out, didn’t come off - and napping on a large cushion at the foot of Lady Catherine’s bed. “What?” he asked, at the raised eyebrow Elva gave him. “It’s her birthday, too.”
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: (Cali)
So [personal profile] lilfluff sent me a bunch of prompts for my birthday in 2014. *cough* This is from Tír na Cali.

It was the Lady's birthday, and the house was in an uproar. The Lady herself was not all that demanding -- but her Lady Mother was, and that meant that everything had to be absolutely perfect: the Lady might own them, but the Lady Mother was still Baroness, and she could make their lives miserable and their Lady's life horrible.

The cakes were divine and adorable, the house was scrubbed till it gleamed. The landscaping was trimmed until everything was level and bright and lovely. The household slaves were all in their absolute best uniforms. Even their collars were gleaming. In five minutes, Herself, the Lady Baroness, would arrive.

And their Lady Mistress was sitting on the veranda, happily sharing a tray of hors d'oevres with a scrawny teenaged boy who was still in slave-raider pants and the bright orange slave-shop collar.

"What?" she asked her chatelaine, when the patient woman found them. "It's his birthday too."

aldersprig: (Cali)
A legend of Tír na Cali

“I know it’s awful, darling, but there are reasons for every law.”

Bóinn’s mother sat behind her, brushing her hair, although the Lady Almha was a Baroness had had better things to do with her time than soothe her grown daughter’s wounded pride. Bóinn felt a little ashamed for that, and more than a little pleased that her mother was taking the time, and a little ashamed about that in turn, so she sat and listened where she might not have done so, otherwise. “Reasons?” she coaxed.

(read on...)

For just $1/month you can read all the Patreon stories!

For $5/month you can prompt each month AND give feedback into the Patreon serial!
aldersprig: (Cali)
The first part of the story: Fox Hunt
The second part: The Hunt Continues
The First Continuation, part of @dahob's commission: Chase the Fox Part One
The Second and Third Continuations:
Chase the Fox Part II
Part III

And now, the Fourth and Final part of @Dahob's continuation:
Part IV: That Fox Won't Run

Challenge. She wanted challenge? George would give her a freaking challenge. He would disappear so well into the landscape that nobody could find him, change his appearance so much even his mother wouldn’t be able to tell it was him, and lay low until she’d gotten tired of looking, until she’d gotten bored with this little game of hers...

(read on!)

A Patronage of just $1/month will give you access to everything posted on Patreon.

Want input into the story prompts? A Patronage of $5/month lets you prompt in the monthly prompt calls. For $15/month you get your own personal story!

Check it out!
aldersprig: (Cali)
This is Cali: there is slavery. This particular one has no dub/non con, no bondage, nothing hinkie at all.

What was I thinking? ;-)

"And what exactly are you?"

Thea looked at the man glaring up at her - up, because, like so many native Californians, he was painfully short - through wire-framed glasses. She cleared her throat. "I'm, ah, the new acquisition." She tugged awkwardly on her collar.

"American, hunh?" He clucked angrily. "Well, we'll have none of that escaping nonsense here. Try it once, and you'll be flogged. Try it twice and you'll wish you'd been flogged."

Thea coughed. "Ah. I volunteered."

"Well, then." He shifted from foot to foot, still looking very displeased. "You'll start mopping floors, same as anyone, and I'm sure you'll soon learn that the glamorous life of a Californian slave is just as dirty and unpleasant as wherever you were..."

"She'll start as chef." Thea was uncertain if Gabrielle had stayed out of the butler's sight on purpose, or if, being short and native Californian like the butler, the chatelaine had merely been hidden by Thea's greater size. Now, however, she gently shoved Thea to one side. "She starts as chef, Bartholomew, because that is why the Lady bought her."

"Nobody starts as--"

"Regardless, she is our new chef, and you can hardly argue that we need one, since the mess with the last one."

"And then why did she buy an American, I ask you?"

"That is the Lady's decision and not ours to question," Gabrielle answered firmly, just as if she had not asked the Lady the same thing in Thea's hearing, not an hour before. "I'm giving her Anthy. It's high time the child had a proper position with a chance for improvement, and she'll be a good translator for Thea. She can teach her how to be a slave--"

Thea smiled. She knew a cue when she heard one. "--and I can teach her how to be a chef. Sounds lovely. Where do I start?"
aldersprig: (KinkBingo2)
This story involves involuntary capture and bondage.
Read more... )
aldersprig: (Cali)
The first part of the story: Fox Hunt
The second part: The Hunt Continues
The First Continuation, part of @dahob's commission: Chase the Fox Part One

And yet more Fox! Chase the Fox Part II

Hitchhiking had gotten old pretty quickly. George hadn’t thumbed a ride in years, not since his college days, and he found that all the things that had made it so unpleasant back in Maine were almost identical in California — the road splashing and the traffic noise, the hours you’d go by with nobody picking you up, the odd juts out of your way when you did get a ride, the talking. The endless uncomfortable chatter....

(read on!)

A Patronage of just $1/month will give you access to everything posted on Patreon.

Want input into the story prompts? A Patronage of $5/month lets you prompt in the monthly prompt calls. For $15/month you get your own personal story!

Check it out!
aldersprig: (Aldersprig Leaves Raining)
July's Patreon Theme was "More, Please;" the prompt call covered anything my $5 readers would like to see continued.

A Rescue in Kind, a story of Daxton-and-Esha continued
The Hunt Continues, a story of fox hunting in Tir na Cali continued
Down, Down, Down, more of Doug and the Basement - free for all to read!

I also posted a couple other stories on Patreon:
Last Bid, a story of a worried slave in Tir na Cali
The Queen's Councillor, a story also of Tir na Cali and a Queen worrying her people.

Check them all out here!

Not a member yet? For $1/month, you can read all patron-only stories.
For $5/month, you not only get access to the prompt calls, you will put my Patreon over the next Milestone Goal and open up a monthly serial!
aldersprig: (Cali)
This piece is written to [profile] kc_obrian's prompt to my "write something short, Lyn" prompt call here. It is set in my Tír na Cali setting; read more about Cali here.

This story is open to all readers on Patreon!

Nobody knew where he had come from, and among the Queen's courtiers, this was a strange and unheard-of occurrence. He was tall, like an American, fair and freckled, like a Californian, polite and brilliant, like a politician. He sat by the Queen's side in meetings of state and he spoke, quietly, and only when he was asked to. He, it was said, counselled Her Majesty on all matters....

(read on)

aldersprig: (Cali)

This story was written to @cluudle's prompt on my "Write something short, Lyn" prompt call here. It is set in my Tír na Cali setting; read more about Cali here.



The buyers were all bored, or perhaps they simply didn't like the opening bid. More interesting purchases had gone first, prettier people, stronger people. No it was down to this boy in chains, trying not to panic...

(Read on)

aldersprig: (Cali)
The Hunt Continues, the July Patreon microstory, has been posted:

George sidled up to the clothesline, checking the lay of the land. Nobody around; he could hear the household slaves in the kitchen, gossiping around what Her Ladyship had done.

They ought to be more careful, he thought dryly; someone might overhear...

A Patronage of just $1/month will give you access to the rest of the Patreon stories!

Want input into the story prompts? A Patronage of $5/month lets you prompt to your heart's content and for $15/month you will get your own personal story!

Check it out!
aldersprig: (Cali)
Sale Price, the third of the June Patreon stories, has been posted:

"They don't put slaves on sale."

Ellen made a point of window-shopping the slave store every time she went to the mall. It reminded her what she was saving up for, what she was working overtime for.Her maternal grandmother had been a freed slave and the best cook in southern Tír na Cali; her grandfather had cleaned floors for a living until his seventies.

A Patronage of just $1/month will give you access to the rest of the Patreon stories!

Want input into the story prompts? A Patronage of $5/month lets you prompt to your heart's content and for $15/month you will get your own personal story!

Check it out!
aldersprig: (Cali)
Fox Hunt, the second of the June Patreon stories, has been posted:

Ariana shifted in her saddle and tried not to look nearly as bored as she felt. This was her mother’s sport and her grandmother’s, not hers, and it bore as much relation to actual tracking as Duck Hunt did to being an army sniper.

Her family still thought it was fun, somehow: they stuck a fox tail on a slave; the slave then dutifully ran through the woods. They sent dogs after him and then, in the grand tradition of the fox hunts, rode the poor schmuck down. Afterwards, he was rewarded, coddled, and praised; the better run, the more praise. Everyone got drunk and praised themselves on how good a hunt it had been.

A Patronage of just $1/month will let you read all Patron-only posts! Check it out!
aldersprig: (Cali)
Leaving the Land of the Free, the first of the June Patreon stories, has been posted

The letter from Jordy had said D- The rumors are true. They really can do it. Ruby slippers forever. -J

It had been in Jordy’s bubbly, heart-dotted-i’s handwriting, even if the envelope had been machine-printed. It explained everything, and at the same time, it opened up so many more questions.

A Patronage of just $1/month will let you read all Patron-only posts! Check it out!
aldersprig: (Cali)
The June Theme Poll is closed. The winner is Tir na Cali!

Tell me, what have you always wanted to know about Cali? *evil grin*
aldersprig: (Cali)
Edit: Forgot to cut for content- slavery, unwilling, and revenge-slavery.

Read more... )
aldersprig: (Cali)
In the Tir na Cali setting, how widespread are gifts/powers outside of California?

The Tuatha de Danaan, the leaders of Tir na Cali, would have you believe that there are no psychic powers such as theirs anywhere outside of California.

This is, of course, ridiculous.

Even though the Tuatha attempted to bring every relative with them when they left Ireland, it is likely they missed a few, just for starters. And it's not like all the Irish stayed in Ireland.

For another, the Tuatha were only one of three bloodlines of known psychics in Ireland, to say nothing of what might have happened with other bloodlines. While they did their best to wipe out the other Irish bloodlines, again, it's safe to assume they missed some. And when they moved to America, the Tuatha did not know about recessive genes, and thus it's likely they missed many who carried the grey-eyes-and-power linked genes as a recessive.

What the Tuatha were, at the time they left Ireland and certainly in the present time, were the only bloodline to self-select for power so intently and so continually. Other nations had small lines of psychics; the power would pop up from time to time in many different places. But without the concentrated breeding for the best powers, no other nation on earth has as many or as strong of powers as does Tír na Cali.

And while runaways do happen, however tightly California tries to hold on to its power source, the US knows enough to look for grey-eyed (or slit-pupiled yellow-eyed, etc.) people. If Californian slavers don't grab them first, anyone who has the look - or makes the mistake of demonstrating some psychic power - is sucked up into a secret government facility, never to be seen again. There are rumors that Russia and China do similar things, for similar purposes - to replicate the power that Tír na Cali has.

In the general non-Californian population, less than one in 6,000 people have psychic powers as recognized by Tír na Cali, and less than one in 1,000,000 have any sort of strong psychic power.

Written to [personal profile] lilfluff's prompt here.

I still need lots more worldbuilding prompts! Check it out!
aldersprig: (Cali)
The below story is Tír na Cali and includes slavery, previous abuse, and people who believe in the system as it stands.

It came from a comment by Sky:"What if the Californians have things similar to animal shelters for lost and abandoned slaves?," and was prompted also in part by a ficlet [ profile] cluudle wrote about the same idea.

Read more... )
aldersprig: (Cali)
Tír na Cali

"Redheaded magic ladies who kidnap sex slaves and also there are catgirls."
- [personal profile] inventrix

Slavery, abduction, and magic, high fantasy and erotica, all in an alternate-history version of the American West Coast, where Washington State, Oregon, California, and Baja California are all part of a hierarchical, matriarchal monarchy called Tír na Cali. The nation is ruled by a large extended family who call themselves, privately, the Tuatha de Danaan, and who purportedly worship pleasure and sex.

While the two worlds diverged long, long ago - when the Tuatha de Danaan first recognized their own power, centuries past - the most visible split from modern history occurred during the 1800's, when the West Coast seceded from the United States in the midst of the Civil War, a move set in place almost a century before by the Tuatha.

In this world, the US never lost its puritanical sheen, in direct response to the licentious nature of their enemy to the West, the Californians. And the Californians, who hold power in part due to the royal family’s psychic powers, continue to steal young adults from the US to serve as their slaves.

Temporary add-on landing page here.

Stories to start with:
Fish Story(LJ link)
Tea with HER and following stories (see below)
Second Pressing

Stories Include:
Harem )

Planning a Family, a glimpse at history
Vegas, an abduction story
I Serve, a microfiction of the conflicts of service.
Come the Dark, a story only loosely Cali.
Turning Tables, a cautionary tale
Playing Dollies, a love quadrilateral, Tír na Cali style - available in Tales for the Sugar Cat
Princely, a fairy tale retold in Tír na Cali - available in Tales for the Sugar Cat
Hallowing New Ground, loosely Tir na Cali, in space.
Guitar(LJ link), a story of fighting back.
A Rescue Into Slavery (LJ)
Too Hot for Prime Time
Too Hot to Handle, a continuation of Too Hot for Prime Time (LJ)
When in Rome (LJ)
Revenge of the Pumpkins (LJ)(after the Too Hot stories)
Not Stockholm'd
Window Shopping (LJ)
The Goddess' Rocky Path (LJ)
Gods (LJ)
Sport (LJ)

Prisoners 16 & 23 excerpt
Excerpt (LJ)

Wrong Brother? ()after "Can we be that Close?" (no xpost). [Donor Perk]
Brothers and Brotherhood (LJ)

Fish )

Slave )
Small Words (LJ) (donor perk)
Fred (LJ) (Slave School)

Tea )

Vineyard )

There are a few Cali/Criminal Minds crossover stories, and the love meme thereof:
Morrigan/Reid, Luke/Regine, Linden/Luke (LJ) Love Meme

[personal profile] kc_obrien has written three stories in this setting as well

[personal profile] lilfluff has written several stories in this setting, for which he needs a landing page. Recovering is the most recent. (lj)

An untitled novella is still in process:
Cali-Novel 11b (LJ)
Cali-Novel 11c (LJ)
Cali-Novel 12a (LJ) [Beta group]
Cali-Novel 12b (LJ) [Beta group]
Cali-Novel 13b (LJ) [Beta group]
Chapter 13c into 4 of Novel (did not xpost) [Beta group]
Chapter 14 of Novel (LJ) [Beta group]
Cali-Novel Ch17-most (LJ) [Beta]
Cali-Novel 17-end (LJ) {Cali-Beta}
Chapter 18A (LJ)

The Collar Job is an ongoing Tír na Cali/Leverage (TV show) fanfic. Its landing page is here (and on LJ).

February Worldbuilding Q6
February Worldbuilding Q23

Cali Catpeople
A subsetting of Tír na Cali, the Cali Catpeople are a new series focusing on several Californian-born and a few kidnapped American slaves who are transformed, through the body- and gene-altering magic held by a few Californian nobles, into feline-human hybrids, taking on some physical and mental characteristics of wild cats.

The long-term plans of the scientists perpetrating these transformations are still unknown to their research subjects; read along with these hapless kitties to discover their fate.

Stories Include:
Anger, a story of instinct and ownership
Origins, the transformation of one research subject - available in Tales for the Sugar Cat
In Training, a microfiction - - available in Tales for the Sugar Cat

Little Lost Kitty Girl (LJ)
The Little Lost Kitty Girl at Home (LJ)

Ninja Kitty (LJ)

Down in Kitty Town (LJ)

Entering Kitty Town (LJ)

Lab Rat (LJ)

Image by [ profile] lady_bealzabub

Icon is by [ profile] djinni and is of a generic Cali noble.


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

April 2019

 1 2 3 456
78910 111213
1415 1617 181920


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Apr. 21st, 2019 04:45 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios