Archive | July 3, 2012

Fishbowl Time Again!

And Guys this one is so cool I want to do it myself some time!!

YSabetWordsmith is hosting her monthly poetry Fishbowl. The theme is “alternate histories.”

My prompts included:

What if, say, the Iroquois or another East-coast tribe developed sea travel first?
What if the Cold War hadn’t ended?
What if we hadn’t stopped the Space Race?
What if we’d focused on physical health advances and prosthetics the way we focused on smaller more complicated cell phones?
What if the Dark Ages hadn’t happened?
What if they’d never ended?
What if WWII had lasted longer?
What if Christianity had never spread?
Tír na Cali is based, in part on a what-if: what if the US had fractured in more than one direction during the Civil War?
What if there were really wizards and witches running things?

Go prompt! Go tip, if you’ve got it to spare! 🙂

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(on the) Offensive, a story of Rin & Girey for the June Giraffe Call

For [personal profile] kelkyag‘s prompt(s)

This story comes after:Meat of the Matter (LJ)
Bare Bones (LJ) [Beta]
Skeleton Key (LJ) [donor perk]
and Ambush {Donor Perk}: Girey had foiled an attempt to attack Rin and kidnap himself, at the sacrifice of the first escape plan he’s had that might actually work.

Chapter X: Offensive
Leaving the scene of battle is neither fleeing nor cowardly; it is simply gaining a better footing for the next attack

They rode for about an hour, until the moons were high and fat in the sky and the air was chill, and then Rin led them off to the side of the road, into a small cove half-roofed by rock. They were clearly not the first to camp here; the area had a fire pit, a stone basin collecting the runoff of a small rivulet, and a platform built up of rocks and sodded over, keeping the tent out of the lowest areas if the rain came.

“I hope you’re in no hurry to get to Lannamer.” Rin’s smile, in the pale moonlight, looked grim. Girey didn’t blame her; he was feeling irritated, grim, and tired himself.

“None at all.” Anything but, and she knew that. She had to know that, after what she’d overheard.

“Good.” She tossed him her goat’s reins as she dismounted. “Get them settled while I pitch the camp, would you?”

She hadn’t chained him to the saddle, presumably because they’d been running. He could flee now, easily. If he took her goat with him, she’d never be able to catch up.

He hesitated, holding both sets of reins. “What are you planning?”

She met his gaze evenly. “I’m planning on ambushing them, and explaining to them exactly why one doesn’t try to attack me in the middle of the night. I don’t like being threatened and snuck up upon.”

He paused, for one heartbeat and then another. “I don’t, either,” he admitted quietly. He led the goats to a convenient tie-off, and began stripping their tack.

In the bustle of getting camp set up, she paused, studying him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” If she didn’t, he wouldn’t have to think about why he’d done it.

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Icon Flash: Courting, a story of the Aunt Family [donor perk]

Continuing flash series! I’m going to write one flash for every Icon I have, over 4 LJ accounts, 1 DW, and a whole bunch of not-currently-in-use, until I get bored or run out of icons.

Today’s icon:

Beryl and That Damn Cat/Radar

Icon & Art by Djinni

The Aunt Family has a landing page here See Boy Trouble for an earlier piece about the cat and the necklace.

Beryl’s cat didn’t approve of her new boyfriend, but her necklace did.

This was not a problem she’d imagined herself in, a few short months ago. Then again, she hadn’t really imagined herself en-boyfriended at all, much less also en-catted and en-jewelled with a talking specimen of all three.

At least the boyfriend couldn’t hear the cat or the necklace – yet – and didn’t appear to think it strange that Radar didn’t like him. He had brought treats – a catnip mouse, a small fish, chicken livers – to ply the cat with, along with games and cookies for Beryl’s siblings and flowers for her mother.

“Are you courting me or them?” she teased, as they left the house for their fourth date. She tried to make it sound like a joke, although she wasn’t entirely certain she felt joke-y about it.


That wasn’t helping at all. Only the voice of the necklace-Joseph, the necklace in her pocket and the voice whispering in her ear, reassured her.

::He knows the family. He’s heard of the family, at least. He knows he’s on shaky ground. Be nice to him. Being a man in this family isn’t easy.::

He couldn’t be a man in the family at all, if Beryl was going to be the Aunt. But that was another problem, and one Joseph seemed gleeful about. Right now, her problem was the boy, the flowers he’d brought her mother, and the kiss she wanted from his lips.

“I want your family to like me.” He leaned across his truck slowly, one hand inching up her thigh. “I don’t think flowers will bribe you, though. I think I’ll have to work harder for you.”

::He can stay:: Joseph was pleased; for once, Beryl agreed completely.

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