Ambrus

For the meme I posted Wednesday night here and here

I chewed over the Pratchett one for a while. Fanfic makes me nervous to write.

Having a big brother was sometimes a pain. He would mess up her hair and steal her dinner and pick her up and swing her when she was trying to be serious.

But when she looked at the mean girls the day after her ride with Jimmy in the parking lot, and not a single one of them would say so much as Boo to her – except to tell her they thought her shoes were poker, which meant cool this week – Junie thought having an older brother, having Jin for an older brother – was the most awesome thing ever.

Dear Mom, and Dad…

Carrot turned and looked at Angua, sleeping across his bed. The moon was new tonight, and she was sprawled in human form, but he could see, in her lines, the wolf she was sometimes. He thought about her running beside him, about the way she looked when she came in sweaty and filthy after a day Defending the Peace. He thought about the rare moments when she was out of uniform and not wearing fur. He thought about the moment when he thought that, perhaps, she had died.

He looked back at the paper, and thought about trying to put all that into words.

I am, in Love.

Ambrus was asleep, and Regine was not.

This was a common occurrence; she slept very little, and found often that a tlacatl Working would do her far better than actual sleep. She did not, as a rule, enjoy her dreams.

She did enjoy his, however. She enjoyed most of how her Kept’s brain worked, but his dreams, his mind unfettered and free to do as it would, were a fascinating place full of vivid, if unlikely, magic and sensuality.

She wondered, sometimes, watching his dreams, what it said that she enjoyed his unfettered mind the most.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/317370.html. You can comment here or there.

Love Meme Answers 1: Morrigan/Reid, Luke/Regine, Linden/Luke

Apr5

For the meme I posted last night here and here, though I just realized I flipped the third one. Guess it’s a freebie!

Morrigan lay in bed, pressed up against Reid’s body, watching him sleep. When he slept, he didn’t pull away from her. When he truly slept, sometimes helped along by a nudge from their doctor, his body relaxed, and she could see how young he was.

She was going to keep him. She’d already known that when she hauled him into her van. She was going to keep him, because he was so strong, so brilliant, and so utterly vulnerable.

He made her want to take responsibility. He made her want to be a grown-up.

Shira watched them together, pouring over the new student lists. She wondered if Luke knew how his wings curled protectively over Regine. She wondered if Regine knew how she looked up to the older Ellehemaei, even when his opinion hurt, even when she stubbornly ignored everything he said.

Shira could see the echos of them, a hundred years past, a hundred years hence. She could see the moment Luke bent to comfort Regine, and the moment Regine learned how to be human for long enough to comfort Luke.

She wished her students, the ones who didn’t always understand friendship, could see this.

Summer. Finally. Mike saw the last of his Students off on vacation, spent one last evening with his favorite non-Mentored student, and braced herself to visit Luke.

He would glower, of course, and grumble. He’d invite her into his home because they were crew, and friends. He’d pour her a drink and have none himself, like he didn’t trust her. He’d refuse to touch her.

But in the end, he would hold out an arm, and hug her, and yell at her for an hour about being a better person. And when he was done, when she’d cried in apology and grumbled and yelled back at him, Mike always felt like she could be better, could be a nicer, more responsible person. Like he made her better.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/315437.html. You can comment here or there.

Backstage, a story for the Giraffe Call

Feb1

Inspired by the_vulture‘s prompt

And there this Lo Pan guy is, flying around like some batshit giant pixie, cutting everyone to shreds, and here’s this redneck cowboy blasting around, this Egg guy fighting Lo Pan like they’re The Last True Mages (who I damn well know died two hundred years ago), pretty girls with green eyes being zombified, mooks and minions flying and bleeding and making a mess of this gorgeous temple, well, never mind that it was a temple to Lo Pan’s Lo Panniness.

And there was me. Green-eyed, sure. But nobody looks twice at the tiny little elf girl when there are these big old hooman girls around to marry and zombify and rescue and what have you. And nobody looks twice at what’s happening behind the curtain, do they, because they’re not supposed to. They’re supposed to see the muss and fuss up on stage and ignore those of us back here.

And ignored and back-here and happily hidden, there we were, making sure this one ended the way it was supposed to. Like we do, pulling the strings, making the stories. Telling the stories to themselves, my grandma called it. Telling the road where it goes.

And of course the big lunk messed it up, but that’s all right. We had another story for him. And oh, boy, was that one a doozy!!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/253210.html. You can comment here or there.

Icon Flash: Facets of Dusk & Ekwara

Dec6

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:

A Jaunx, from Ekwara

Icon & Art by Djinni

This icon was drawn at the same time as my Alexa icon, so it’s always been rather Facets-of-Dusk for me. This story crosses the Facets multiverse with Djinni’s comic Ekwara.

Facets does not yet have a landing page (whoops!) but it does have a tag, below

It was beginning to be old hat. Take a hand, wait for the chain to form, open the Door, step through. Alexa was getting very good at it. The rest of the team was getting good, too, at all the things they had to do when they reached a new location, recon and integration and information-gathering. They were, after so many false starts, acting like a team.

Alexa swung the door open, holding Josie’s right hand with her left, and stepped through. One step – the ground was soft, squishy grass. Two steps – it held her weight, and Josie’s, without buckling or sinking. Three steps – the terrain around them was wooded, bright green. She saw no buildings, which was odd. Normally, in order for there to be a door…

She looked around, a strange thought occurring to her. She’d seen those trees. She’s seen that cat-like creature over there, the one doing something that looked like casting a spell, opening a… a vortex of stars, much like some of her own Doorways. She’d read about this place.

She looked behind her, hurriedly. There was no door, just as slowly shrinking portal that Aerich was stepping through. That left Peter on the other side. Ignoring all protocol, she shoved Josie into Aerich, pushing both of them into the portal, and grabbed Xenia and Cole’s hands. “Back, back now!”

They had had enough close calls. They let her push them all back in. As the door shut behind them, Cole asked, mildly, “Alexa, what the hell?”

“I’ve seen that place before,” she told them, and then, because she had seen a number of worlds that they hadn’t, she clarified, “in a comic, a web-comic.”

“A comic,” Aerich scoffed. Peter looked up, curious.

“If we can prove that worlds that are fiction to us…”

“Ekwara,” she cut him off, “is where lost things wind up. And there was no door on that side.”

“Oh.” Aerich blinked. “A one-way Door?”

“Exactly. And, while it’s a lovely comic…”

“…we don’t want to get trapped there,” Cole agreed. “Good call, Alexa.”

She ignored the rush of warmth, mostly because, with that Door off-limits…

“So,” Xenia asked, “where do we go now?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/192102.html. You can comment here or there.

Eat, prey, live – for the Giraffe Call

Oct26

For KC_OBrien‘s prompt.

after “On Top,” (Dreamwidth link)) from the gender-funky-giraffe call.

Commenters: 3

I couldn’t deal anymore.

I’d set myself up a perfect situation, or so it had seemed, but here I was, in my happy little pack with my happy little alpha who did what I said… and I hated it.

I hated his passive-aggressive bullshit. I hated being everyone’s mommy. I hated hearing everyone’s. Fucking. Complaints. Because, well, everyone knew the alpha’s bitch was who you went to when you had a problem. Everyone knew I’d listen to their problems without ripping out their throats for it, listen and be compassionate and pat their shoulders and tell them it would be okay.

And I was beyond sick of it.

It took a night sleeping on the floor, because Chris was sick and tossed and turned, followed by the world’s whiniest werewolf having a bad day all over my tiredness, for me to snap. I threw the cur out of my room – and I do mean threw – threw some clothes in a bag, and left. Just left. Out the door and gone.

I shifted to wolf form as soon as I made it out of the city, the backpack one of the doggie sorts modified for this, and ran. Ran and ran and ran.

I chased some hikers down into a ravine and terrified them for a little bit, ate rabbits and deer and, once, a raccoon that sassed me. Never humans, but it was fun to make them run. Fun to listen to them stop whining and focus on just living for a little bit. Even a wolf in a backpack is still a wolf, and I was a damn big werewolf.

I came across the human version of my whiney cur in a truck stop in Nevada. He was trying to tell me his problems. I guess I have that face.

“Sorry, I don’t care,” I told him. It was the most liberating moment of my life. Better than my first Change. Better than making Chris win the alpha challenge. Better than my first kill. The look on his face – sweeter than blood.

“You…” he sputtered.

“You might ask, the next time,” I suggested. “The last guy that whined at me without asking is still trying to find all his teeth. And I’m sure your wife-” there was a ring “-doesn’t like it either.”

“You…”

“Just. Don’t. Care.” I grinned at him, and I’d been spending a lot of time in wolf form. My teeth were still pretty damn sharp on two legs. “Not sorry, either.”

“I…” He ran away… and I stopped running away from myself. I’d never felt better.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/159452.html. You can comment here or there.

Refurbish and Sell – Criminal Minds/Cali Crossover

Oct16

For the clare_dragonfly‘s prompt

This is more of the Reid/Cali crossover fanfic, directly after the last piece.

The stories before this:
Never Been Caught (and on LJ): First written, last in sequence.

Shots Fired (and on LJ): First in sequence

“Well, Crap, Where am I?” (and on LJ), after “Shots Fired”

Sweet Iced Tea (LJ), after “Well, Crap…” and before the story below.

Commenters: 4

Their captive sipped his iced tea slowly, watching them. “You’re the team that’s been beating the BAU to the punch.”

“We are,” Morrigan re-affirmed.

“What have you been doing with the victims?”

“We’re slave runners. We’ve been cleaning them up, dressing them up, and selling them.” There was no point in sugar-coating what they did; it wasn’t like he wouldn’t find out soon enough anyway.

He studied her while he drank the saccharine tea. “You rescue them from serial killers just to sell them into slavery. It seems like a cruel joke to pull on them, doesn’t it?”

Them, still. She wondered when he would figure it out.

“It’s kinder than leaving them there and letting hem be raped, tortured, and killed, isn’t it? That last one – the guy with the birds-nest beard. Did your people get everyone out of his crawl space yet?”

He shook his head. “When we left for Georgia, they were still exhuming bodies. They had pulled out twenty-seven full remains, and three partial sets, one of them just the fingerbones from a left hand – they believe that was his first victim, due to the age of the remains. But the evidence suggested there had been two living victims there as well, one of whom who had been pretty severely injured.”

“We treated his injuries, and gave him several sessions with a very skilled therapist.” See? We can be nice, too. Morrigan would have laughed at herself, if Cym wasn’t doing such a good job of it in the other corner. “We’ll treat your injuries, too, when we’ve evaded pursuit sufficiently.”

“My injuries?” He squeaked when he was upset. It was adorable. “That’s not necessary. You can drop me at any hospital; I have very good health insurance. I appreciate the rescue, but I don’t need to burden you any longer.”

Aaaw. She almost felt bad for him as she patted his shoulder. “I think you’ll be with us for a while, Agent Reid.” Cleaned up, refurbished… but she wasn’t sure she’d sell him.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/149520.html. You can comment here or there.

30 Days Second Semester: 16, Coming Home

Aug22

For the 30 Days Meme Second Semester, for the prompt “16) write a scene that takes place at the end of a long road trip.”

John Stollich never knew, when he got home from a tour, what would greet him. Sometimes he thought that was why he stayed on the road as long as he did, coming home only, really, to cut another CD. He’d come home one time, and Onyx would be wrapped around his leg, best-daughter-ever, happy to see him, chattering about what she was learning in school, don’t-ever-leave-again-Dad. The next time, she’d be distant and chill, or flat-out nasty.

The nannies weren’t any better. At best, they lasted a year, year and a half. It was either John that turned them off, or Onyx, or the sometimes-strange things that happened around her, or her insatiable and incorrigible curiosity.

Bringing her on the bus had, because of that curiosity, never been a good option. He did so for very short periods of time, when the bus had been well-scrubbed and censored. The last thing he wanted to do was explain to a prepubescent kid what condoms were for.

He braced himself, getting rid of all thoughts of condoms, groupies, and drugs, and opened his front door. Was this going to be good visit, or a bad one?

She wasn’t in the living room waiting, which was new – generally the nanny brought her down. Instead, his manager, Ray, sat there, frowning.

“What is it this time?” John dropped his duffle bag and waited.

“She ran off again.”

“Damnit, Ray, what is this, seven times?”

“Fourteen.” He paused, then added, reluctantly, “Her aunt called again.”

I present another reboot, for a setting written so long ago I can’t find the original (which itself was a reboot). Onyx-Black and the fanfic of doom.

The List:
1a) the story starts with the words “It’s going down.” (LJ Link)
1b) the story starts with the words “It’s going down.” (LJ Link)
2) write a scene that takes place in a train station.
3) the story must involve a goblet and a set of three [somethings]
4) prompt: one for the road
5) write a story using an imaginary color
6) write the pitch for a new Final Fantasy styled RPG (LJ Link)
7) prompt: frigid (LJ Link)
8) write a scene in the middle of a novel called “The Long, Dirty Afterwards” (LJ)
9) prompt: mourning dead gods (LJ)
10) write a story set in three different time periods. (LJ)
11) Write a movie trailer style trailer for a story, existing or not-yet-written. (LJ)
12) prompt: sweet iced tea (LJ)
13) re-write a story that everyone knows (LJ)
14) write a vanilla story dealing with kinky subject matter (LJ)
15) prompt: ascension (LJ)
16) write a scene that takes place at the end of a long road trip.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/116122.html. You can comment here or there.

Call for Prompts: Abduction and Rescue! Go!

Aug20

The call for prompts is now open! For the next 24 hours, I will taking your prompts on the theme of Abduction and Rescue.

I will write (over the next week) at least one microfic (150-300 words) to each prompter. If you donate, I will write to all of your prompts, and write at last 300 additional words for each $5 you donate, to the prompt of your choice.

~~If I reach $30 in donations today~~, I will post an additional 2000-word fic on the subject of the audience’s choice. This has been reached!

If I reach $60, I will write at least 2 microfics for everyone, whether or not they donated.

If I reach $90, I will write to every prompt I get in the next 24 hours – if something truly bugs me, I’ll ask you to re-prompt. At this point, please allow up to 2 weeks for the writing to be completed.

If I reach $120, I will record a podcast of an audience-choice story and post it for everyone to read. Also, everyone who tipped will get double wordcount.

If I reach $150, I will release an e-book of all of the fiction written to this call and the last one. At this point, please allow up to 24 weeks for the writing to be completed.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/112923.html. You can comment here or there.

30DaysMeme, Second Semester, Sweet Iced Tea

Aug15

For the 30 Days Meme Second Semester, for the prompt “12) prompt: sweet iced tea.”

This is more of the Reid/Cali crossover fanfic, directly after the last piece.

The stories before this:
Never Been Caught : First written, last in sequence.

Shots Fired: First in sequence

“Well, Crap, Where am I?”, after “Shots Fired” and before the story below.

“Excuse me,” their captive croaked. “Could I have some water?”

Morrigan turned in surprise, studying him. She hadn’t heard it when he woke, which shouldn’t have surprised her. She knew he was an Agent, even if not from their Agency.

“I’ve got some water here,” she answered levelly, and got the cup with the straw from the cooler. “We’ve also got some sweet iced tea, if you’d rather.” She pressed the straw to his lips anyway.

He drank slowly, buying himself some time, she guessed. “Thank you. I appreciate you taking such good care of me.”

Behind Morrigan, Cym choked out a laugh. “Shit,” she swore, “that’s her. The Lady of Kindness herself.”

Morrigan laughed quietly. “It’s a nice technique,” she told Reid. “They teach a similar one in our Academy.” He was looking a bit worried, so she offered again, “some tea? You were held captive for a few days, I bet you’re hungry, too.”

He licked his lips, contemplating that. “I didn’t know that Californians were fond of sweetened tea.”

“We’re not, generally,” she allowed, smirking at him. “We stopped at a gas station just before we… rescued… you, and that was all they had for drinks with caffeine.” She shook her head. “We are, whatever we are, not serial killers, Agent.”

“Could I have a little more water?” Stalling. She pressed the straw to his mouth and let him. He was a bright boy; he could tell he was trapped.

“You’re those Agents,” he said slowly.

“We are,” she agreed.

“I’ll have that tea now, please.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/110185.html. You can comment here or there.

On Top.

Aug10

For kc_obrien‘s prompt: “Not every pack Alpha has a bitch. Sometimes it is the bitch.”

If this is anything, it is very very loosely Anita-verse OC

I went home with the new alpha. Jordan was dead, after all, and Chris had won me when he won the pack. I wanted to have a conversation with him, before he had too much time listening to others.

I could see it in his eyes, that he knew something was up, but I waited until we were in the bedroom, until he started going about things in a typical werewolf fashion, to bring it up. He had me pinned to the bed when I said, conversationally, “you know what I did?”

He froze. “What,” he admitted. “Not how. Or, for that matter, why.” He looked down at me, and, as if abashed, let go of my wrists. I scooted until I was sitting up, while his face went through a few odd contortions.

“You don’t need to know how.” I had cheated like hell, that’s how, to make sure he won. “Why… I should think that would be obvious.”

A heartbeat passed. Another. “You want me to be the alpha.”

“I do.” I let him keep the suspicions he was having to himself. For now. “I am not going to be raped or beaten again.”

“I’m the alpha,” he protested. “You’re my bitch.”

“Half right.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/104928.html. You can comment here or there.

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