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Story repost for the “April Showers” Patreon Theme

Apr27

Don’t Cry, Baby 
a repost from 2013

Addergoole, beginning of Year 13 – originally posted here and slightly edited. (One of only two retro posts I could find involving rain/showers!)

“Don’t cry, baby. When you cry, the sky cries with you.”

Amaya’s daddy had said that to her, growing up. He’d point out the window at the encroaching clouds, or at the storm or the shower, and say the same thing, every time.

When she tripped and skinned her knee, “Don’t cry, baby…"

continue reading (free for everyone) on Patreon – here

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1096157.html. You can comment here or there.

Thinking about an Addergoole Kickstarter (Finally)

Apr26

Okay, I’m ready to start planning the Addergoole Book One Kickstarter. The book is drafted, so step one done (it’s been drafted for well over a year…)

Things I know I need:
* Cover art/layout
* Editing

Things I might like:
* Layout done professionally, both e- and paper book
* internal art/poster art

Things I maybe Need:
* ISBN?

From those basic lists, what am I missing?

In addition, if you were going to support this sort of Kickstarter, what sort of reward tiers/stretch goals would you like?

(Note: this sort, because I know Addergoole is not everyone’s cuppa tea.)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1095514.html. You can comment here or there.

Mentor… and Student

Apr19

Rix_Scaedu‘s commissioned continuation of Mentor-Student. Her name is Eurydice; it just never comes up in conversation.

“Well,” Doug admitted to the angry young woman in front of him, “we’re stuck with each other. They think we can work together.”

His Student – or so it seemed it was going to be – raised her eyebrow at him. “You sound so thrilled. Don’t go throwing me a party or anything.”

“Well,” Doug grunted, both embarrassed and annoyed, “you’re right. It’s not how it’s supposed to go.”

“Wait.” She leaned forward. “Say that again.”

Doug didn’t bother asking which part she wanted to hear. He could guess. “You’re right.”

“Awww, yeah.” She lit her lighter again. “I could get used to that. So you don’t like ‘em screwing with the system, either. So why’d they stick you with me? We can ‘work together?’ What’s that code for? You can brainwash me better?”

Doug barked out a laugh. “Not the brainwashing sort.”

“So what then? Are you the arsonist sort?” She flicked her lighter again. Doug imagined that had made some adults flinch, back out in the world. Maybe here, too, considering the fires she’d already lit.

Doug wasn’t worried. He muttered a Working and flicked up a small flame in the palm of his hand. “Sometimes.”

Her eyes widened. “Woah.”

Doug felt his lips curling into a real smile. “Woah,” he agreed. He closed the hand to vanish the fire and gave himself a moment to think about the words he’d use.

“Forget why they wanted us together,” he started slowly. “They are not responsible for this. I can teach you.” He watched something in her face start to close up and he made a wild guess. He smiled the way he might at the start of a battle — a little fierce and a lot ready. “And I’m not afraid of you.”

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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1090377.html. You can comment here or there.

Second-year magic lessons

Apr18

This is written to a prompt cluudle left back in August, 2015

Luke didn’t like her, and he really did not like teaching her.

Shahin found that a little amusing, but she tried not to antagonize the man too much. She wanted to become better at Kwxe. Everything she found in every vision told her she was going to need it. Everything the teachers didn’t want to tell her enforced that – up to and including the fact that, despite the fact that Luke did not like teaching her, he’d agreed to meet with her three times a week to practice Kwxe.

“What are you going to use this for?” he demanded today. Shahin smiled, a small expression that was as dry and as careful as she could make it.

“I was thinking,” she offered, “that I would use it to stop Dragons. Or – if I can’t stop them…” She would stop them, she knew it. But that would be much later. “…then to stall them.”

She noted that he was surprised, and a bit chagrined, and quite a bit worried. She decided she could live with that.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1089486.html. You can comment here or there.

♪When the dog bites, when the bee stings…♫

Apr14

A very small continuation of ♪Brown Paper Packages♫ and …Tied up with String.

It’s Addergoole, so all AG warnings apply. Suggestions of [former abuse] (highlight for spoilers, if those count in a 125-word ficlet).

Ackelea walked around the boy twice. He was vaguely familiar – she hadn’t been hunting this year, so she hadn’t spent that much time looking at the younger students. He was pretty rather than handsome, beardless, his black hair braided and twisted into a bun at the base of his neck.

He had scars, she noted. Scars on his neck, scars on his wrists. She walked around hi a third time and he stayed entirely in pose, but he was trembling.

“All fours,” she ordered lazily, just to see what he would do. Without hesitation, he shifted position. He had scars on the back of his thighs, too.

“Sit comfortably.” She fell into a cross-legged seat in front of him, never mind the kilt. “Tell me something about yourself, my dear.”

Tip Package 😉

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1088102.html. You can comment here or there.

A Rude Awakening

Apr7

I found the first half of this in my e-mail. To be honest, I have no idea where I’d been intending to go with this, but this is where it ended up.

“You’re interesting.”

Whistler was not sure what he’d expected, but that was probably not it. The short girl was perched on the footboard of the bed, wearing an indigo silk bathrobe and, as far as he could tell, nothing else. And she was staring at him.

In terms of ‘ways to wake up,’ it was definitely his weirdest yet, even here in Addergoole. And yesterday he’d woken up to screams and a power outage.

“I’m…” Whistler moved to sit up and realized that he was pinned down. No… strapped. He looked to either side of him slowly – dresser, open door to the bathroom, large posters of landscapes. It was anything but institutional. He looked down at his chest. Straps. He moved a wrist. More straps. “I’m strapped down,” he finished. Just because it was a familiar feeling didn’t mean he liked it.

“Well…” She rubbed her neck, where, Whistler noticed, there were bruises in the shape of fingers. “I figured I ought to make sure you were calm before we started talking.”

Whistler swallowed. Oh, no. “Oh, god,” he whispered. “Did I…”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1085477.html. You can comment here or there.

Flight

Apr1

Written in response to a lovely picture @dahob showed me – here.

She hadn’t meant to run – to flee, that is. Drifa hadn’t really been meaning to do anything, not consciously. The pain had come, and she’d been trying to get away from it. A little walking, that would help. A little running, maybe that would help more. She hadn’t noticed for a good twenty minutes that she wasn’t running, she was flying. She hadn’t noticed until she landed that she was wearing a sheet and nothing else.

Crows were landing all around her, settling in the snow and cawing questions at her. Drifa cleared her throat and answered. “Lost,” she told them, “new-fledged.” It was close enough, and none of them questioned her size.

Nor did they question her nudity in the snow, but, then again, they were all nude in the snow, too. And neither she nor they thought it was strange that she could both understand them and talk to them.

It seemed the crows knew more strangeness than they wanted to admit: They understood where she had come from. But none of them would show her the way back.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1083221.html. You can comment here or there.

Summer Plans

Apr1

written to [personal profile] inventrix‘s prompt. Year 17 of the Addergoole School.

The teachers had been on edge all year. Dáin figured it had something to do with the stuff that had been happening when he came to school – portals opening to other worlds, people disappearing and reappearing, miracles and horrid things all over the world, if the news was to be believed at all. But the news didn’t come through – no TV came through at all, down in Addergoole. The older kids said it used to work, but something about the shifting wards or the weather patterns had turned out to mess with any incoming signal. Phones to the outside didn’t work well either, if they worked at all.

The teachers being on edge had bothered Dáin more than the lack of contact. Addergoole had this way of sucking you in, making you forget about the outside world. He’d barely thought about his parents, just enough to send them a couple slightly-guilty letters. He’d thought about his old boyfriend even less, and the letter he’d sent him had been a lot more guilty.

Mostly, though, Dáin had been pretty engrossed in his first year of school. There had been magic to learn, an awkward Change to handle, his Keeper to, uh, be Kept by, and the rest of his classmates to mostly-try-not-to-bother, as per orders.

And now he was standing in the Auditorium. His bags were packed. His Keeper had graduated. He was ready to go home and play video games all summer and not think about magic or collars or babies or anything else about Addergoole until September rolled around.

The gym teacher strode to the front of the room and cleared his throat. Then Director Regine and Professor VanderLinden joined him. But it was Luke who spoke.

“In June of last year, strange things began happening all over the world. The human media didn’t know what to make of it, so I’m imagining the reports you got were pretty sparse.”

Dáin swallowed. Strange things. That was an understatement if he’d ever heard one.

“We weren’t sure what to make of it, either, when it first started. We thought maybe it was a world-wide Nedetakaei attack – even though the Nedetakaei have been very bad at any sort of coordinated fighting. It turns out…” His wing folded tight to his chest, and when he continued, Luke sounded not only sad, but miserable. “It turns out that the Departed Gods are back.”

Shouting erupted. Dáin sat down slowly. This was – it was impossible. The Departed Gods were a myth, the sort of creation story nobody really believes.

The projection screen behind Regine lit up. Dáin swallowed against a hard lump in his throat. That was… no. The rubble, the fire…

“This was Pittsburgh, four weeks ago. As far as we’ve been able to tell, the fires have been burning for months and are still burning.” Luke cleared his throat. “There were survivors. In every city, there were some survivors that we know of. But there weren’t many – there weren’t nearly enough.” He hung his head, and for a moment, he was silent. Dáin didn’t blame him. He didn’t feel like saying anything either.

The rest of the auditorium seemed to feel the same, at least for a minute. Then, shouting erupted.

Dáin didn’t have anything to say. Over the din, Regine’s voice carried. “I am afraid this is not a hoax.” She sounded genuinely sad. “If you wish to go home for the summer, we will do our best to help you make arrangements. But there is no guarantee that any sort of mass transportation — airplanes, busses, trains — will be running, nor that gas stations will have fuel for cars. We do recommend that you stay here, at least while we work to ascertain the situation fully.

“That being said,” she continued, “if you do wish to leave Addergoole for the summer, gather to the left of the auditorium. If you wish to stay, you may wander as you wish.”

Dáin looked around, watching as people moved slowly, shuffling as if they were ill, one way or the other. He couldn’t seem to make himself move.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1083020.html. You can comment here or there.

Plans, a drabble of Cynara

Mar29

a good 30, 60 years after the last-written Doomsday story as of now.

Cya leaned over a list of names with her youngest school-aged descendant. He’d brought the list home home from his first year at Addergoole, every classmate in his year and the two years above him.

She let her finger pause over three names. “These three are not related to you at all, even remotely. And this one is also not related to any of the Boom brood. These two are pretty far distant, but sticking to the ones that aren’t descended from Boom is better.”

Her (great-great-so-many-greats)-grandson glanced over at her. “Why?”

“Oh,” Red Doomsday smiled, “I’m working on a thing. It might not help you, but it’ll help your kids.”

Her grandson – one of Yoshi’s line, with a disturbing resemblance to Yoshi’s father – smiled cautiously. “I trust you. So, these three?”

Trust. Cya did another Find on the list. “This one’s the best. The safest.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1081176.html. You can comment here or there.

Of the Forest

Mar1

This is rix_Scaedu‘s commissioned continuation of In the Forest and Through the Forest.

Keita made her way down to the ground, landing with a thump in front of her pursuer. “Do you know what happens to people who chase me deep into the forest I live in?”

Her voice sounded hoarse to her. She’d meant it to sound intimidating, although the truth of the matter was that mostly she spooked them off or they got lost.

Solomon raised his eyebrows. “I imagine that you tend to discourage them. Keita, if it was within my power to leave you here, I would. It’s clear you’re happy here. More than that, it’s clear that, for the moment, at least, you’re safe here.”

“What do you mean, ‘for the moment?’” She glowered at him. “I survived winter. I survived creepy monsters screaming overhead. Whatever that was, the dragon apocalypse or something. I survived the freaking army making a base in my backyard.”

“It’s impressive. Am I correct in guessing you ran away before the, ah, ‘dragon apocalypse?’”

“What, do you have a better name? Dragons, monsters, things go weird, next thing I know the army’s stomping through.”

“Well.” He sat down on a nearby log as if he was in someone’s living room. “I hope you don’t mind if I sit down?”

“Free country.” She shrugged. “Just don’t expect me to bring you tea and crumpets or anything.”

He chuckled dryly. “I’m not British. And I’m intruding in your home, Keita; all I can hope is that you’ll listen to me. I don’t have the right to expect anything.”

She plopped herself down on another branch, well out of arm’s reach. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

“I’m getting that impression. It’s unfortunate, but I think Addergoole could help you out.”

“Help me with what? Unless they were going to keep the occasional creep off her back or help her rig up something for warmth in the middle of winter, she didn’t need them. She had everything she needed in her forest.

“Well, hrrm. Did you see many of the creatures that were flying around during the ‘dragon apocalypse?’”

“Saw a bit. Some of ‘em looked a bit human; the rest looked like monsters. Why? Are they good eating?”

He shuddered. “They’re sentient beings, on part with humans, so I’m rather glad you don’t already know if they’re tasty or not.”

“I’m not stupid enough to try to take down a magical creature from another dimension.” She shook her head at him. “What do you think I am?”

He took a breath. “A magical creature from this dimension.”

Keita snorted. “Right. You’re crazier than the drugged-up idiots that wander through here sometimes thinking that they saw God.”

“They may have. A god, at least.” He looked far too serious. “Keita, what you call the ‘dragon apocalypse’ really was, for all intents and purposes, an apocalypse. The end of the world as we know it. Billions of people died, some at the hands of the military, some at the hands of the invaders – creatures that are, indeed, magical and from another dimension, or at least another world – and some of starvation and disease. It has been a hard couple years for the world, and I think it’s possible you may have had it easier than many, tucked away here in this forest.”

“And so, what, you want me to leave now?”

“It is my job to get you to come with me. That is a different matter than ‘want’.”

That sounded strange. She tilted her head and looked at him. “Someone sent you. But you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“Someone sent me,” he confirmed. “Addergoole and its Director. And I think Addergoole could teach you a lot.” He looked around the forest. “It can teach you more about the plants and animals here so you know what you’re dealing with. It can teach you combat techniques so that, when someone does wander into your territory, you can fight them off. And, ahem, it will teach you magic, which can help in any number of ways.”

Magic. Magic. Well, it wasn’t like she could say magic didn’t exist. She’d seen the creatures flying across the sky. She’d seen the fireballs and the man walking through her forest, shooting lightning from his fingertips. Whatever the creatures had been, they’d come with some sort of magic.

But they were creatures, and she was a human kid. A forest-dwelling human kid who swung from trees like Tarzan, but still a human kid. Her parents, assholes that they were, were humans.

“Nice candy,” she answered, instead of telling him she thought he was nuts. “Where’s your van?”

“My… ah. I assure you, I’m not trying to drag you off for some nefarious purpose. And all of the signs point to you having the genes that allow you to do magic.” He coughed. “Your, ah, real parents certainly could.”

Keita glared at him. “My ‘real’ parents are assholes. I met them. I lived with them. They’re not magical at all.”

“You lived with your biological mother and a man she married while pregnant with you. Your mother had some small prowess with a few magical things, but not enough, it seems, to save herself when the dragons came.”

Keita swallowed. “They’re dead?” She didn’t want to care. She didn’t think she did care. But it meant there was no going home… not that she would have, anyway. She hadn’t even when the winter had been awful. She wasn’t going to now that she knew how to survive.
“I’m afraid they are, your mother and your step-father both.”

Keita leaned forward, holding on to those words. “Step-father.” The asshole of assholes. Wasn’t her father.

“Step-father,” Reid confirmed. “As of my most recent information, your biological father is still alive. We could track him down, if you wanted. If you come with me.”

It was tempting. It was far too tempting. Keita leaned back, scowling. “But if I go with you… this forest isn’t going to stay unclaimed until I come back.”

“Well, then.” She was surprised to see that he was smiling. “I suppose that gives us four years to find you a better forest, doesn’t it?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1071052.html. You can comment here or there.