Archive | February 2019
March Patreon Theme Poll
Sick Day
I’m home sick! And I’m home sick with something banal!
When I woke up Saturday with a cold, I was actually excited. There’ve been so many obnoxious “what is WRONG with me?” “Is this a symptom of something extant or is it something new?” “What did my medicine DO to me?” in the last two years that having something whose symptoms I recognized completely, something that I understood what to do about, was more than a relief; I was cheerful!
Of course, on day 4 (maybe 6) of this, I am not so bright and excited, but hey, I have been taking naps and drinking lots of fluids and husband has been making me lots of tea. A nap in front of the fire is a pretty nice way to spend part of the day, especially with a cat asleep on my belly (That would be Merit, the one of our three who has really mastered sleeping-on-people). Continue reading
In The End…
Originally posted on Patreon in February 2019 and part of the Great Patreon Crossposting to WordPress.
A story of Addergoole, Hell Night, and friendship.
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It came down to the two of them, back to back, the darkness and the monsters all around them.
They hadn’t even really talked before this. They had three classes together, but Pramod had been trying to make friends with the closest to jocks that this school had, and Swanhild was trying to find the artsy sorts – easier to find than jocks, at least. Pramod had been on the top of the heap before coming to this place, and Swan had been used to being ignored by guys like him.
Now she had her back against him literally, and the shadows were snarling at her, at them, and somewhere outside their pod someone was sing-songing “come out, come out, wherever you are,” which wasn’t creepy at all. But Swan had seen plenty of horror movies, and had come to school with four things that didn’t really look like weapons until she needed to swing them at someone – or to have Pramod swing them, since he was bigger. Swan had thought she was tall until she met Pramod, who was a full 8 inches taller than her and made it look surprisingly good.
So he had the baseball bat and she had the antenna from her dad’s old car – an in-joke that had already left two people swearing – and they had each other, back to back.
“I don’t even know you,” he whispered, in a moment between attacks.
“That’s all right. I don’t know you, either, and I already know I like you better than any of these assholes.”
He laughed at that, as he was meant to, and then they were under attack again.
When the lights came back on, both of them were panting, sweating – laughing. Both of them were aching, bruised, bleeding – smiling. Both of them were free.
“Friends?” Swan offered, holding out her hand for Pramod.
He grinned down at her. “Friends. Hey, that jerk with the whip. Wanna gather up a couple others and go after him? I bet we could take him down with enough of us.”
“How about we go get lunch, instead,” she countered. Jocks, she thought, but it was affectionate in a way she’d never felt before. “Then maybe we can smear his name so that he never gets laid again, how’s that?”
“Nerd.” He smiled down at her, and she felt warm at the label the way nobody had ever managed.
“That’s me.”
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Hidden Mall 58: I Ain’t Afraid of No… G-g-g-ghosts?
Author’s note: Guys, this one gets a little dark, even for this setting. If you want to skip it, let me know and I’ll DM/email you a summary. Content warning is for description of formerly-alive people showing their methods of death.
Beyond Rules
Originally posted on Patreon in February 2019 and part of the Great Patreon Crossposting to WordPress.
This is a story written to @Eseme’s prompt to my Valentine-day Prompt Call.
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There were things that had rules, rules they had established through the years of their relationship. There were things that were too small for rules, or too mobile, or simply too unpredictable — they had a Rule about neighbors but not one that encompassed the entirety of living next to dragons, for instance. And then there were things that were too big for Rules.
Their Time was one of those. They didn’t call it date night, because more often than not, neither of them wanted to deal with crowds or even quiet, intimate restaurants. They didn’t call it parents’ time, the way some of their friends did, because it was time to not be parents, or a warlock and a witch, but simply Aud and Sage.
Jin had agreed to watch the younger children, as he did most weeks, for a reasonable going rate that meant they didn’t have to try breaking in a new babysitter — a situation always fraught with difficulties when one lived in Smokey Knoll. Aud and Sage took their dinner up into the tallest tower in their house, into a room they saved for times like this; the children were instructed to only interrupt in the direst of emergencies.
Sage lit the candles. Aud poured the wine. They sat together on the divan and looked out over the city, watching the lines of magic flow through the enchanted viewing-glass in their observatory. They held hands, each of them eating one-handed, and smiled, letting their own private magic flow between them.
They didn’t talk much. There was plenty of time for talking, and they had said many of the things they might need to say already. They simply were, and when it was Their Time, that was enough.
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Haunted House 38: Upset
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
Previous: Preparations
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“It’s weird,” Mélanie mused, as they settled boxes of goods into the back of the wagon, the sunlight coming down through the trees in dappled waves.
“Leaving? Seeing the house in the daylight?” Jasper guessed.
“Something like that, yeah. Leaving and just- well, just thinking about just leaving to go to town, I guess.”
Running in the Bear Empire 35: Hunting
First: Running in the Bear Empire
Previous: What’s Your Name?
Next: 36: Guests
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“Are you sure you know how to hunt things that aren’t people?”
Deline was teasing Carrone – mostly. They had been living in the cabin for four days, and she was beginning to get more on edge than she wanted to admit.
It was easy enough to settle in to a routine – gather and hunt in the morning, cook a big meal in the afternoon and settle in to bed in the evening. It was easy enough to pretend that they were just having a little rest stop along the way, getting to know each other. But Deline knew that they were hiding, and she knew that she had to get back to the capital, and she knew that with every day she didn’t – with every day she didn’t make it back, there was a chance that they wouldn’t make it back, and if they didn’t, her information died with her. And that wasn’t acceptable.
So she was teasing Carrone for losing another deer. Continue reading
Bad Fight
Written to a prompt I found here.
Red wasn’t supposed to be out on his own yet. He was supposed to be a sidekick. He was supposed to be following Blue around still, maybe cracking wise and maybe just mopping up the henchmen that got away.
But that wasn’t what he’d signed up for. That wasn’t what he’d been training until all hours of the night for, sneaking out of study hall for, spending every minute he could in the lab for. No. No, he was a meta, a shining new example of the Modern Superhero – that h Continue reading
Funerary Rites 41
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The ride back was tense. Nobody spoke a whole lot, except Allayne, murmuring quietly over the wound in Erramun’s back, pulling out the bullet and healing the muscle and sinew and skin. Ezer muttered at traffic, Chitter muttered at her cameras – including the tiny button camera and mic Senga had planted in the desk, including the one Erramun had planted on a pillar, including the clever little skimmer they’d managed to get on the guards’ computer. Erramun was silent as his name.
Senga was steaming with anger and twitching with worry and said nothing at all. She held Erramun’s hand, even though he obviously didn’t need it, and the way that his fingers traced over the back of hers told her that he knew, too, that she needed it.
“There,” Allayne breathed. They were nearly to the garage. “All better. Damn, are you telling me you don’t have a Man of Steel Working in your repertoire?” Continue reading