Archive | August 11, 2011

Playing, Dragons Next Door, for morrigans_eve

To [personal profile] morrigans_eve‘s prompt “More of Juniper and Baby Smith’s games?” in this flash-fiction meme (LJ).

Dragons Next Door has a landing page (LJ Link)

Juniper rolled her eyes at her parents and headed out the side door to go to the Smith’s place. She knew Baby was still little and pre-lingual. She knew dragons were helpless and nearly mindless until they reached about grown-up-high in length. Cthaiden had explained all of this to her – and, considering some of the stuff her parents had been saying, she’d been listening better than they had.

But they still wanted to explain, when she said “I want to go play with Baby,” either that Baby was a live being and not a pet or a toy, which she knew, or that Baby didn’t really understand the playing yet, yes, she also knew. Baby was a baby. It was fragile and you had to be careful, even if it could poop fire on you, and it really didn’t understand words. Juniper had been there when it had hatched. She knew this all.

She just liked playing with Baby anyway. Baby was small, smaller than Juniper (there weren’t many people she could say that about), and it needed her help to do anything. It was a neat feeling, having another being relying on her.

And, when she wanted to play, Baby didn’t argue or tell her it was a stupid game (although once it had belched on a board game and ruined it). It just crawled over the floor with her, or hit the ball, or slept, and she could tell it all the stories she wanted.

Maybe if she told it enough stories about the princess and the dragon being best friends, when it grew up, it would remember.

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Slave School: Equal Rights? For lilfluff

From my call for gender prompts and [personal profile] lilfluff‘s commission comes a discussion at the Cali Slave School on the Rights of Man. Err, Males.

“Aren’t you going to hold the door for me?” Steve teased. Jill wrinkled her nose at him, and did not hold the door. Pointedly.

“You know very well that’s not what that was about. It’s not like everything just turned one-eighty from home.”

“Well, no,” Seth argued, pointedly holding the door for the rest of them. “I mean, back in the States, women and men have equal rights.”

“Under the law,” Jill couldn’t help but point out.

“Well, what other kind of rights are there?”

“Social rights,” Debbie offered. She flopped in her accustomed place in Jakub’s chair; normally he didn’t mind, but today he glared at her.

“Like having your own goddamned chair when you want it?”

“Woah.” She slipped out of the chair to the floor. “Sorry.” Her tone said she was anything but.

“Cut him some slack,” Jill advised gently. “They’ve just found out they’re 1890’s women.”

“Yeah,” Seth pointed out, “but it’s not the eighteen-hundreds anymore. Women don’t get treated like that back home.”

“Depends on the woman, and the man,” Debbie argued, trying to get comfortable on the floor. With a glance to be sure it was all right, Jill settled onto Seth’s bed, watching the guys process that.

“I never treated anyone like that,” Steve asserted angrily. “Second-class citizen.” He tugged on his collar roughly, the steel cutting into his bullish neck. “Fucking second-class second-class citizen.”

“Wouldn’t that make you a fourth-class citizen?” Carl, who had been quiet through the whole thing, offered this bit with a small smirk. Jill wondered what he thought of the whole mess; of all of them, he’d been the quietest all along.

“Not. Helping. Man.” Steve yanked hard on the collar again. “That’s shit. And not only is it shit, they have to explain it all, like it’s right or something.”

“‘A woman’s place is in the home,’” Debbie countered.

“Again,” Seth argued, “eighteen-ninety, not the two thousands.”

“Dude, my grandmother thought I should go into nursing. Or maybe teaching. Good, womanly jobs.” Debbie’s voice rose louder and louder. “So don’t tell me that shit ended in the eighteen hundreds.”

“Legally, though, women got the right to vote at the beginning of the twentieth century in the ‘States,” Seth soothed.

“Well,” Jill interjected, before this could get further out of hand, “neither of us have that now. As far as rights go, Debbie and I have about one more right than you guys, and I hope to God we don’t have to use it anytime soon.”

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*falls down and has dreams about writing to prompts*

Sunday, I put out a call for prompts (LJ post) on the theme of Gender, Sexuality, and how they can go funky (short title: Genderfunky Giraffes).

25 short and medium pieces later…

I have only [personal profile] lilfluff‘s second commissioned piece to write.

Monday’s summary is here (or here)

Yesterday’s summary is here (or here)

Switcheroo (LJ), for DaHob‘s prompt

Buuut… (LJ), for kelkyag‘s prompt: “Dealing with the lack of reassurance on the acceptance of a newly asserted gender identity…”

On Top (LJ), for [personal profile] kc_obrien‘s prompt: “Not every pack Alpha has a bitch. Sometimes it is the bitch.”

(LJ, for @skysailor99’s prompt: Make up a gender and have a character’s partner learn to understand it.

ankewehner is doing a flash fiction fishbowl, if you’re still feeling prompty.

And I’ve still got 3 slots left in this prompt-me meme (2 on LJ)

Any piece I’ve written can be sponsored for continuation.

For more information, my Donor landing page is here (and on LJ)

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