Archive | January 10, 2016

Sideline: Cya and Stolen Goods

A Change in Routine
[personal profile] inventrix‘s Let’s Pretend
Class is in Session
A Brief Reunion
[personal profile] inventrix‘s Unexpected Visitor
Lessons in the Dojo
[personal profile] inventrix‘s from RP logs
Education and Collars
Trouble in Paradise
[personal profile] inventrix‘s Mistakes were Made
Stolen
This story takes place here, the morning after “Stolen.”
A Reconciliation

Morning dawned with a blond head resting on Cya’s shoulder, the face away from her. She’d lifted her hand to tousle the hair before she remembered that this particular blond was new. Gwyn, whose father had named him both fair and a suitably Arthurian name. She moved gently, deciding she was going to have to see if he could handle casual touch eventually.

He woke at her fingers in his hair and made a small noise before he, too, came awake and went still.

“Easy,” she murmured. “You’re safe and you’re fine. You must have been very tired.”

“Yesterday…”

“Yesterday was a pretty crazy day. You got stolen, for one. I got shot.” She chuckled, because it was over now, and because Leo wasn’t here to fret. “Neither one happens every day.”

“Oh, good.” He tried a smile on her, and she responded in kind. He was skittish, but he wasn’t angry. “I don’t think I want to get stolen again.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t want to get shot again. It makes Leo irrational, for one.” She leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Welcome to Cloverleaf, Gwyn.”

“I think you said that al- Thank you, Mistress.”

“Cya. I’ve never liked that mistress thing, no matter how many Kept I’ve had.”

“Cya,” he agreed. “Now what?”

“Well, I think we have breakfast, and then I give you a tour of my city, and maybe we get to know each other.” She hugged his shoulder gently. “Then we can work on what you like to do with your time.”

She noticed the way his expression went skeptical and was unsurprised. It would take time, but for now they could start with breakfast. “If you get some bacon started, I’ll make us eggs and toast. Then I can show off my city.”

She found herself grinning. She’d always liked this first part, anyway.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1045421.html. You can comment here or there.

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[Altersprig]: My first complete Ana White pattern!

I’ve been admiring Ana White‘s blog/how-to site for a while now. She breaks carpentry-based DIY and knock-off decor down to a very accessible level, and, even though I grew up with basic carpentry, I didn’t grow up following carpentry PLANS, so I really do appreciate this.

So when I looked at my pile of tiny and small art and looked at the wall in my girl cave, I thought a-ha! I bet Ana White has a plan for this!

And she did! $10 Ledges. I went a bit smaller and cut the length into 3 equal pieces – 3″ boards instead of 4″, because it’s a very small room. The lumber cost me $15, the paint is the same as the rest of the room, and glue and screws were around the house.

Dad actually helped me put them together and Mom helped me paint them when they were up this summer. And then, finally, a couple weekends ago, I put them on my walls and started playing with pictures.

…at which point I found out that Zazzle postcards are not quite right for 4×6 frames, sigh.

Not much shows in this picture, but the “L” is by [personal profile] kelkyag, the mermaids are by [personal profile] ellenmillion, the tiny picture is a drawing of Death that [personal profile] kissofjudas bought me, and the postcard is of Mackinac Bridge, from a family trip in my pre-teens.

(I collect postcards 😉

Next up: I bought two shelf brackets from Lee Valley to put a broader shelf on the other wall. Dictionaries and books I’m published in!

(I also collect dictionaries!)

20160102_182443.jpg

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Don’t Stick Out

Written to [personal profile] clare_dragonfly‘s prompt. Before Year 19 of the Addergoole School.

Shira Pelletier was having a bit of trouble.

“No, this is ridiculous.” The girl would not come out of her house, and had settled for talking to Shira through the tiniest crack in the door. “There is no way. I’m safe here. I’ve got food, water, the people don’t hate me… If you go away soon, that is. I don’t want to stick out.

“Maressa, I’m sorry, but if you don’t come with us, in a few months you are going to stick out far too much. Your parents -“

“My parents are dead. My parents are gone. They went off to fight the war. They left me, okay? So fuck whatever they wanted for me.”

“…I’m absolutely certain they wanted you safe.”

“Yeah, well, then they shouldn’t have left me here alone. They should have stayed.”

“Your parents…” Shira sighed. There were things she couldn’t say, not standing here on a formerly suburban street. “I’ll save that for another time. I know that you are safe here at the moment, but how long do you think that can last? Food, water – I don’t see many crops being planted, and you have no meat animals.”

“This is the burbs. Nobody knows how to plant crops.” Maressa threw up her hands, the gesture barely visible through the doorway opening. “Or, like, butcher animals, or anything. But they know how to store food okay. And everyone that ran off left something. We’ll be fine for another year.”

In another year, Maressa would have Changed. Shira swallowed, and dropped her voice even lower. “Maressa, do you remember your parents telling you stories about f—

“We don’t talk about those things here. We don’t talk about anything like that. We’re all normal. Human. Here.” She punctuated that with kicking the door. Shira sighed.

“Then come with me. I can’t promise everyone will be normal, but we can teach you how to plant crops, and how to husband animals – how to take care of them, that is, how to herd them and how to use them for food. And then, if you want, you can come back here and teach these people.”

Those that would have survived.

“Why me?” Maressa’s voice was still edgy, but she was about to give in. “Why not anyone else here?”

“Because your parents are the ones who set this up. And although you may hate them, they took some measures to provide for your future.”

“Why do you sound like that?” The door opened a bit further. “All fancy, like something out of a book?”

Shira allowed herself a small smile. “Because I am a teacher. And I would be honored to teach you.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1044971.html. You can comment here or there.

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