Archive | March 23, 2013

Short/Cut, a story of the Faerie Apocalypse, for the Giraffe Call

For [personal profile] clare_dragonfly‘s prompt. Around Addergoole Year 33


Griselda and Solange shared a look. They turned, two petite women on two giant motorcycles, to look at the man standing in the road behind them.

“Zel?” Solanage muttered it out of the side of her mouth.

“Got it.” Griselda murmured under her breath while Solange dismounted and walked forward in short, measured steps. The man was taller than either of them, of course, broad in the shoulders and carrying at least five visible weapons. His skin had the sun-burnt and wrinkled look that means he was trying to ignore what the sun could do to him, and his hair was yellow-white like old paper.

By contrast, neither of the women had a weapon visible; the closest thing was the small jerry-rigged device Griselda was pretending to talk to.

“Can I help you?” Solange was the sweeter-voiced and sweeter-faced of the pair; people smiled at her while they eyed Zelda with distrust.

Like this one, who smiled yellow teeth down at her. “You’re little to be out all alone.”

“We do all right for ourselves. Don’t we, Zel?”

“We travel the world fair enough.” That was her code for fae, with a thrown-in twist for probably up to no good. Solange nodded; she understood.

“We get by.”

“Ah, but you’d get by better with me.”

“We like the team we have.” Zelda had moved up to stand near Solange. Her hands were empty; she’d put the device away. “Why did you call us?”

“It’s a lot easier to chase down prey on foot.” He looked startled, as the first of Zelda’s spells took hold, forcing honesty out of him. Then he grinned. “Done with the foreplay, I suppose.”

His glamour dropped, revealing him for the seven-foot-tall scaly-skinned creep that he really was. Zelda was already in the air, darting in and out of his reach while she threw off bolts of lightning.

That bought Solange the seven seconds she needed. She spat out an under-breath spell and two wooden long-swords leapt into her hands.

She stabbed the creature in the gut and throat while he was reaching for Zelda, giving the fluttering sorceress long enough to dart out of reach and set off another electricity-to-the-brain spell.

Three more stabs and seven more quick lightning bolts later, the creep was down, wrapped in Solange’s chains of hawthorn and rowan. “We heard you were around.” She sat on the man’s chest, wrapping further chains of wood and thorns around his throat. “Funny, people always think short…”

“…and don’t think fae.” Zelda laughed. “This is fun.”

For [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith: I am not good at working descriptions into short stories, but Griselda and Solange are both women of color, and this is the post of the apoc.

For AGRP characters: Griselda is Miryam and Aleron’s daughter.

And Solange had a mention in Calling in the Storm

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More Please: Kit Town Maybe? A continuation of Tir na Cali

After Down in Kitty Town and Entering Kitty Town.

The big man was warm. Warmer than a human. Rrrina settled in his arms, since she couldn’t get away anyway, and sniffed him as surreptitiously as she could.

He smelled, under everything, of a bit of musk. Like holding her was making something happen in his pants. Like… She twisted upwards to peer at his face. “Skin job.”

She was quiet about it. She didn’t want to make him angry: he wasn’t wearing a collar and she was; he was bigger than her and clearly stronger; and he smelled like a tom cat that wanted to mate. Every instinct she had told her not to piss him off.

Still, he pulled her tighter against his chest, squishing her in all sorts of nearly-uncomfortable manners. “What did you say, little kitty?” His hiss was warm and angry in her ear.

She peeked up at him. “You’re a skin job.” Her ears were raked back but she kept her voice as quiet as she could. “You look human, but you’re cat.”

“Technically leopard. You’re good, little kitten. You’re going to be really useful.”

“I’m good at being useful.” The well-trained answer slipped out of her mouth, followed by a soft mewl. “But then he sold me. Are you… “

“Shh, little one. We’re almost there. Then you will understand it all.”

Rrrina fell quiet again. He smelled nice. Too nice; her body wanted him, and she wasn’t in a position to do anything at all about it. And then he slipped a hood over her face and not only could she not see anything, she couldn’t even smell anything.

She started with “hey!” and ended with a long hiss. The hood stank of menthol, like a cough drop factory. “Hey,” she repeated.

“Shh. This part’s a secret, little kitten.” He pulled the hood tight, and she could no longer hear much of anything, either. It sounded like he said “sit tight.”

Not that she had any choice.

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Giraffe Call Open: Swords and Sorcery!

It’s time for a Giraffe Call, fine gentlefolk!

The theme of today’s Giraffe Call is Swords and Sorcery, sword-fighters and sorceresses.

(There’ve been a lot of calls for this sort of story, lately, and I’m out of ideas)

Leave one or many prompts, and I will write (over the next month) at least one microfic (150-500 words) to each prompter (prompts may be combined)

Prompts can be related to one of my extant settings (See my landing page-landing page) or they can be for something completely different.

Prompting is free! But Donations are always welcome.

For each $5 you donate, I will write an additional 500 words to the prompt(s) of your choice.

Donations are earmarked towards our foyer right now: It’s currently stripped-down drywall. I want to make a new bench, a storage area, and a slippers-for-guests arrangement. It’s an 8×4 space; budget is $300.

If I get two new prompters or one new donator, I will write a setting piece (setting chosen by poll) explaining something about one of my universes.

At $20 in donations, I will buy the awesome mug featured here, fill it with doctored hot cocoa, and post our recipe for such with a picture.

At $40 in donations, everyone who donated will get an additional microfic written to their prompts. I will choose 1 non-donater at random to receive an additional microfic as well.

At $50, anyone who donated $7.50 or more will have a copy of “Alder by Post” mailed to them if they wish.

At $50, I will buy the hardwood boards for the front of the storage area and post my plans for such.

For every $50 donated, I will do a one-hour livewrite on Etherpad or googledocs during the next month.

At $80, I will write two extra 500-word continuations – chosen by prompters picked by random number generator.

At $100, I’ll buy the accessories for the storage area. And post pictures!

At $120, everyone who donated will get an additional (3rd) microfic written to their prompts. I will choose 2 more non-donaters at random to receive an additional microfic as well.

If we get to $120, I will take suggestions for further incentives!

For more information on Giraffe Calls, see the landing page.

Donate below

I also take payment by Dwolla

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