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A Splash Of Color

Sep28

Originally posted on Patreon in September 2018 and part of the Great Patreon Crossposting to WordPress.

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This story is not, per se, for this month, but since it’s about Autumn, here it is. This is because Eseme made an Autumn doll, but her hair faded, leaving me with the urge to write a story about Autumn’s hair fading. 

The working title of this story, right up ‘till today, was ‘Autumn Hair.’

At over 7000 words, it’s a bit of a read. 

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The fest was just beginning Day Four — Thursday — when Autumn came into town to set up her booth.  That was within the festival rules; as long as you were there for the weekend and as long as you paid for the time you were there, you could show you whenever.  It was part of what had attracted her to the fest in the first place.

She unloaded her gear from the back of her van, set up her tent, and, from the pleasant shade of its canopy, looked around. Continue reading →

Something Hungry

Sep20

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“What… what is this thing?”

“It’s a van.”  Autumn looked at her sisters in confusion.  “You know, driver goes here, then park, sleep goes back there?  Art supplies in the middle, passengers hold on for dear life?”

“Autumn…?” Spring raised her eyebrows.  “Have you looked at this thing?”

“I had Cousin Jimmy look under the hood for me and Aunt Caroline did a thorough inspection…?”  Autumn was hovering somewhere between offended and worried.  “Guys, the paint is a little esoteric but it’s my van, it has to be a little weird.”

“No, no, I like the paint.”  Summer patted the side of the machine lightly.  “Good van.  It looks like the dappling of sunlight on the forest floor.  Autumn, when you were painting it, did you, ah, did you paint it?” Continue reading →

Not – a story for Patreon

Aug30

Originally posted on Patreon in August 2018 and part of the Great Patreon Crossposting to WordPress.
I really wanted to write Tír na Cali, okay?⛈️

The slaves in TĂ­r na Cali were not part of the royal bloodline.

Except sometimes they were.

They did not have the psychic powers – “witchcraft” – that the royals did.

Except sometimes they did.

Those with strong powers were not sold outside the family, if they did happen to exist (which they didn’t).

Except sometimes the song of money was stronger than the law of tradition.  Except when something was going on that the family didn’t quite want to admit to.  Except when –

-well, except when Connor.

Connor touched the collar around his neck one more time.  It was not the nice gold-traced silver collar he had been wearing for years.  It was not the smaller, plainer collar he’d worn when he’d started to “get in trouble,” as the Master of Slaves had called it.

It was the cheap plastic of the slave markets, and it meant that it was – and therefore he was – temporary.  He was in a nice cell but it was a cell; he was being sold for a decent sum of money but he was being sold; the people that talked to him were nice, but they wanted to buy him.

Connor did not want to be bought.  Connor was part of the Lady Conroi ni Reline O Istvia household.  He was not some common slave to be sold, to be purchased, to be moved around.  He was –

He reached his fingers up towards the electronic lock and he thought.

He’d been “getting in trouble” for almost a year now.  By now, the movements were easy.

Outside, a massive storm began to rage, blowing up out of nowhere.  The thunder seemed to shake the buildings.

Inside, all of the cages and all of the slaves’ collars opened.  All of the lights went out.  The thunder sounded right overhead.

Connor plucked the collar off of neck and dropped it to the ground.  If he was not going to be part of Lady Conroi’s household, then he was not going to be a slave.

“Come with me,” he told the others, who obeyed because they were deeply in the habit of obeying.  “We’re going to… we’re going to not be sold.”

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Safety Lesson – a story for Patreon

Aug21

Originally posted on Patreon in August 2018 and part of the Great Patreon Crossposting to WordPress.

It wouldn’t be a “Thunderstorms” month without a story about Leofric Lightning-Blade, my absolutely most favorite god (sometimes) of lightning.This is set in the Cloverleaf Era – i.e., more than 50 years after the 2011 apocalypse. 

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Azule watched from the shelter of a nearby tree, although that was less and less seeming like shelter and more like lightning rod.

The man she had been sent to scout was doing her a favor, although she was certain that he didn’t know it.  He was standing in a ragged circle of children and a few adults, all of them watching in rapt attention as he explained to them what lightning could do if you weren’t careful.

No, not lightning.  He was showing them electricity.

“Like this.”  He murmured a Working and turned towards the forest.  For a moment, Azule thought she’d been found.  But he headed off at an angle from her, all of the children following.  “Give me some distance,” he warned them.  “This might get messy.”

A few moments later, as Azule shifted from tree branch to tree branch, the little group came upon a very, very large boar.  The thing was rooting up trees that were taller than the ones Azule was sitting in, and from the looks of things, it had been doing similar damage for a while.

“Not the sort of thing you want around?” The man seemed to be asking the children, but Azule could see several of the adults nodding their agreement. “All right, kids.  Now, the thing to remember is that these creatures, they are a lot bigger than you.  And they’re going to be able to take a lot more damage than you can.  Like-”  He moved out of the way of the children as the boar noticed him.  Azule could barely catch the Working he did that made the bystanders invisible to the boar, but the creature charged straight at him, ignoring the humans.

“This!”  In a move that was far showier than it needed to be, he sent lightning down into the creature, electrocuting it – and yet it still stumbled to its feet again.

“Now, it’s the size of all of you put together.  So maybe one bolt won’t do it.  But when -”  he zapped the creature with a much smaller-looking bolt  and took a step back, like a docent leading a tour.  “-you touch a wire, your muscles lock up, and all of that lightning is going to hit you all at once.  Got it?  And since none of you are nearly as tough as this boar…”

He finished off the boar with a last zzzap of lightning and a grin.  Azule took the moment to slip away.  She had the information she needed.

 

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