Archives

Changes and Adjustments

Jan21

This comes after Retirement and Retirement 2, some 50 years after the Addergoole stories, and features two characters from those stories. It is written to [personal profile] clare_dragonfly‘s Prompt.

The wagon was small, and sometimes it felt more like a cage than a living space, a cage, and some awful test, the sort other people might have stressed about back in school.

Rozen had driven a wagon before, but he’d never gotten good at it; he had the Words to understand horses, but he’d never really practiced them. Kailani had taken a thoughtful look at him and said “here. You drive the first stretch. We’re taking this highway south, and we’re staying on the highway unless there’s an issue.”

“What if I don’t want to?” he’d grumbled, instead of “what if I don’t know how.”

She’d smiled placidly at him. “We all do things we don’t want to.”

He knew how to bully people, but he had no idea how to be Kept. Rozen had clucked to the horses and got them aimed with more trouble than he’d thought possible and, when they proved recalcitrant, muttered a Panida Working that spurred them on.

He felt like he was being spurred himself. Her orders were like thistles rubbing against his skin, goading him on, pushing him. Her calm, unflappable smile was weird and it made him twitchy. Kailani wasn’t calm. She wasn’t placid.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, finally, an hour out of the town she’d been living in. “You don’t look like you anymore.”

She ran her fingers through her hair – red again, that was a relief, not the white it had been when he’d been deposited on her doorstep – and hrrm’d. “I feel like me.” She smiled, a little mischief there he didn’t remember either. “Are you certain it’s me and not you?”

Rozen twitched. “I haven’t changed.”

“I find that interesting, actually. It’s been decades. Our grandchildren are grown adults and the world – the world has changed considerably. And yet, if I ran into you in the hallways of Addergoole, instead of the Rozen you were then, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

He shrugged. He knew his smile was lazy and a bit sharp. “You’d be surprised. You were always surprised when we ran into each other.”

“Frightened, Rozen. The word is frightened.” He stole a glance at her, but she was smiling. “You were quite scary. It was your job.”

“Haven’t changed,” he drawled. He didn’t know what it meant when she only smirked wider.

The wagon moved on, the world – such as it was now – moved under their wheels, and the woman he’d once wanted to Keep hummed cheerfully while she watched the scenery.

“The world’s changed,” he offered after a bit. “It ended, I guess.”

“The world we knew ended.” She looked sad for a moment. Rozen stomped on the surge of guilt he felt. He had not made that sadness. This was not his fault. “And you kept going.”
She made it sound like a complaint somehow. Rozen looked at her sidelong, trying to figure her out.

“You’re still here, too.” And young again. Being Kept by Ancient Kailani had been weird.

She smiled sadly. “If you ran into me in the halls of Addergole, as I am now, as you were then, what would you do, Rozen?”

The same thing, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t lie to her. He stared wordlessly at her instead.

Want more?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1051814.html. You can comment here or there.

On the Hunt, or not

Jan19

This is set around the same time as the Apollo/Cya/Leo/etc stories, when Leo takes Apollo & Olindo to visit their crewmate Adeen at Addergoole.

“It still doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, you see…”

“Uncle Leo!” Felicite jumped up from the table. “Sorry, Snorri. I’ll be right back.” She darted off across the lunch room, leaving Snorri staring.

She was adorable, a first-year student with chestnut hair and a scattering of freckles, and she liked to dress in kilts with sweaters. She hadn’t Changed yet, she hadn’t been Kept yet, and Snorri was planning on following her around until he could change both of those things.

And now she was darting between the tables, moving at a speed he hadn’t known she reached, shouting “Uncle Professor Leo Inazuma!”

Professor? Snorri followed her, albeit at a much more sedate pace. Two kids from last year – Apollo, wearing a collar like the dumbass he was, and Olindo, looking way too pleased with himself – were flanking a tall blonde man with a full rack of antlers.

He caught up just as the blonde man was setting Felicite down from a tight hug. “How’s it going, Lita? Doing well in your classes?”

“They’re okay. Nothing too hard,” she shrugged, “not after Doomsday. I’ve met some nice people here, but I still miss home.”

Snorri didn’t miss that there was something funny in the way she said nice. It looked like the blond man noticed, too. His eyes scanned the dining hall. Snorri did his best to look innocuous and uninvolved.

“Home home, or Cloverleaf home?” he asked, as if he wasn’t looking for threats.

Cloverleaf. Doomsday. No wonder she was so far ahead in classes. And the blond man, then, Uncle Leo…

He didn’t really need a Kept this year. But someone had to keep Felicite safe, or the school was going to be a sinking crater.

More: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1070253.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1050738.html. You can comment here or there.

Going to Addergoole East, an intro to Ag East of sorts, is available for patrons on Patreon

Jan16

Going to Addergoole East

Makenzie’s school letter had arrived via courier with two options: Addergoole West and Addergoole East. Her mother had glanced at the letter before handing it to Makenzie.

“Here. Decide.”

read on…

Written to [personal profile] clare_dragonfly‘s prompt.

Just $1 a month will let you read all of my Patreon stories! $5 a month will give you access to the prompt call!

Check it out!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1048106.html. You can comment here or there.

beside the point

Jan12

It had been sixteen years since the world began falling apart. Most of their students could barely remember the world before the end – if they had even been alive.

Luke had been doing quite a bit of yelling at Regine over the last decade and a half, so when it came time for this conversation, Reid and Laurel took point. They let themselves into their boss’s office and waited, patient but implacable, until she acknowledged them.

Laurel started. “Since the Gods’ War, we’ve been seeing more kids either staying in the Village after graduation or leaving their children there.”

“Yes.” Regine nodded. “That is what the Village and the creche are for.”

“The Village is an option, Director. Not the option.”

“It’s safe and comfortable.” They had not yet gotten her attention. Laurel raised an eyebrow at Reid.

“You either need to get rid of power and running water in the school and most of the Village, or you need to provide the students with the resources and aid to set those things up in settlements of their choice out in the world.” He had a good no-nonsense voice, Reid did. It made Regine raise an eyebrow.

“I am not interested in the world outside and neither is Addergoole as an institution.”

“Bullshit.” Laurel could be polite if she chose, but at the moment, being rude suited her better. “This school was built to save the world.”

“It was built to save fae. I do recall, I was there.”

“You’re splitting hairs, Regine.” Only Reid could pull off scolding like that. “As you yourself have told me, fae needed to be saved to save humanity.”

Regine sighed. “It puts them in danger. They are safe here.”

“They’re stagnant,” Laurel countered. “You’re raising an entire generation of children who will care not one bit for the outside world. They’ll be insular, and with each following generation, they’ll only get more so.”

“The Council was insular,” Reid followed. “And they have failed and fallen. You can’t take the children out of the world, Regine.”

“The world needs them.” Laurel folded her hands in front of her and waited.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1046141.html. You can comment here or there.

A Beautiful Friendship

Jan11

This is written to [personal profile] chanter_greenie‘s commissioned request for more of Zita and Amantia. It comes after most of the events in Addergoole: Year Nine. Thanks to [personal profile] wyste, whose character Zita is, for helping with Zita’s lines.

The sun was bright. Amantia blinked up at it. She remembered what it felt like; she remembered what it looked like, but that had been years ago. She’d never thought she’d live to see a meadow again.

She flopped down into the grass, feeling the prickle of the stalks through her wetsuit. When she’d first gotten sent to the basement, she’d really believed that someone, anyone would come up with a cure for her problem soon – just a week, just a month, just a year. For the last year, she’d really expected to die any minute now. The beasts had been attacking, they were stuck.

Now, she didn’t know. She was out of the basement. She was in the sun. She could – well, she already knew she couldn’t run away, but getting out of the basement was the first step towards any kind of freedom at all. She could do this. Maybe she could even learn how to stop killing people.

A light breeze picked up, brushing over Amantia. She rolled up into a sitting position and smiled. With her arms outstretched, she could pretend she could feel the breeze all over her body.

“That should be enough.” A soft voice barely reached her ears. Amantia stiffened and dropped her arms. She’d been left alone, but she had known she was being supervised. They wouldn’t trust her to be alone here they wouldn’t trust her at all.

Professor Valerian was standing just at the top of a low rise, not looking at Amantia. She looked sad, Amantia thought, and perhaps tired. “Just stay to this side of her to be the safest.”

“And you can’t do anything for her?” She couldn’t see who was talking, but the voice sounded familiar.

“We’re trying.” Professor Valerian’s sigh was a full-body thing. “Please believe me, we are trying. But turning off someone’s innate power and Change is a complicated matter.”

Amantia propped herself up on an elbow. Somebody cared? Was it one of the other basement kids? She hadn’t seen any of them since she was brought out here. She’d heard the list of found survivors – people she knew, people she’d been living with for years – but that was it. If she’d been at all surprised by it, Amantia might have found it depressing. But she’d never been the safest friend to have.

“Not as easy as a glass of milk with breakfast, hrrm?” The second voice sounded amused. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to try to find out how her poison and mine mix. Although there’s a few people we could practice on…”

“No practicing. I know it’s hard, Zita, but try to be a good influence for once.”

Amantia sat up. Zita? She knew that name!

“No such thing,” Zita responded cheerfully. “But the food is okay?”

“Of course. I’m sure she’ll love your food. I’ll be just over the ridge, out of earshot.”

“Liar.” Zita’s tone didn’t change; she still sounded perky. “You’ll want to hear all of it. I understand.” She stepped up over the rise, carrying a picnic basket.

Amantia stood up. “Hello!” She waved, maybe too enthusiastically. “Hello, Zita!”

Zita’s razor-sharp grin settled into something more amiable. “Hi, you. Amanita, right? I guess you remember me from the mess?”

“It was a mess all right.” She wrinkled her nose. “Do you know, is everyone all right?”

“A lot of people are still in the infirmary.” Zita’s expression sobered. “This is the first time they let anyone come see you. I guess you’re poisonous?”

“Yeah, a little.” She touched the neckline of her wet-suit. “Some sort of poisonous gas. I can’t control it.”

“That’s all right.” Zita’s smile was broad yet somehow non-threatening. “I’m poisonous too. I brought a picnic.” With that apparent non-sequitur, she flopped out a blanket and began laying out foods. “They’ll let me come visit so long as I have a chaperone. And I figure, the more I visit, the more they have to think about The Amantia Problem.” She winked. “Which ought to motivate them nicely. They’re afraid of us, you know,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper. “They think my crew is insane.”

“Oou.” Amantia considered. “Are you?”

“Of course.” Zita popped a cracker-sausage-and-cheese pile into her mouth. After a moment, she explained. “It’s more fun that way. Especially when you’re poisonous.”

Amantia found herself grinning in response. “Sounds wonderful.” She took a few bites of food while she considered. “I could handle being insane and poisonous, especially if I had someone to show me how to do it.”

“That’s me. A good influence all the way.”
The sun was bright. Amantia blinked up at it. She remembered what it felt like; she remembered what it looked like, but that had been years ago. She’d never thought she’d live to see a meadow again.

She flopped down into the grass, feeling the prickle of the stalks through her wetsuit. When she’d first gotten sent to the basement, she’d really believed that someone, anyone would come up with a cure for her problem soon – just a week, just a month, just a year. For the last year, she’d really expected to die any minute now. The beasts had been attacking, they were stuck.

Now, she didn’t know. She was out of the basement. She was in the sun. She could – well, she already knew she couldn’t run away, but getting out of the basement was the first step towards any kind of freedom at all. She could do this. Maybe she could even learn how to stop killing people.

A light breeze picked up, brushing over Amantia. She rolled up into a sitting position and smiled. With her arms outstretched, she could pretend she could feel the breeze all over her body.

“That should be enough.” A soft voice barely reached her ears. Amantia stiffened and dropped her arms. She’d been left alone, but she had known she was being supervised. They wouldn’t trust her to be alone here they wouldn’t trust her at all.

Professor Valerian was standing just at the top of a low rise, not looking at Amantia. She looked sad, Amantia thought, and perhaps tired. “Just stay to this side of her to be the safest.”

“And you can’t do anything for her?” She couldn’t see who was talking, but the voice sounded familiar.

“We’re trying.” Professor Valerian’s sigh was a full-body thing. “Please believe me, we are trying. But turning off someone’s innate power and Change is a complicated matter.”

Amantia propped herself up on an elbow. Somebody cared? Was it one of the other basement kids? She hadn’t seen any of them since she was brought out here. She’d heard the list of found survivors – people she knew, people she’d been living with for years – but that was it. If she’d been at all surprised by it, Amantia might have found it depressing. But she’d never been the safest friend to have.

“Not as easy as a glass of milk with breakfast, hrrm?” The second voice sounded amused. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to try to find out how her poison and mine mix. Although there’s a few people we could practice on…”

“No practicing. I know it’s hard, Zita, but try to be a good influence for once.”

Amantia sat up. Zita? She knew that name!

“No such thing,” Zita responded cheerfully. “But the food is okay?”

“Of course. I’m sure she’ll love your food. I’ll be just over the ridge, out of earshot.”

“Liar.” Zita’s tone didn’t change; she still sounded perky. “You’ll want to hear all of it. I understand.” She stepped up over the rise, carrying a picnic basket.

Amantia stood up. “Hello!” She waved, maybe too enthusiastically. “Hello, Zita!”

Zita’s razor-sharp grin settled into something more amiable. “Hi, you. Amanita, right? I guess you remember me from the mess?”

“It was a mess all right.” She wrinkled her nose. “Do you know, is everyone all right?”

“A lot of people are still in the infirmary.” Zita’s expression sobered. “This is the first time they let anyone come see you. I guess you’re poisonous?”

“Yeah, a little.” She touched the neckline of her wet-suit. “Some sort of poisonous gas. I can’t control it.”

“That’s all right.” Zita’s smile was broad yet somehow non-threatening. “I’m poisonous too. I brought a picnic.” With that apparent non-sequitur, she flopped out a blanket and began laying out foods. “They’ll let me come visit so long as I have a chaperone. And I figure, the more I visit, the more they have to think about The Amantia Problem.” She winked. “Which ought to motivate them nicely. They’re afraid of us, you know,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper. “They think my crew is insane.”

“Oou.” Amantia considered. “Are you?”

“Of course.” Zita popped a cracker-sausage-and-cheese pile into her mouth. After a moment, she explained. “It’s more fun that way. Especially when you’re poisonous.”

Amantia found herself grinning in response. “Sounds wonderful.” She took a few bites of food while she considered. “I could handle being insane and poisonous, especially if I had someone to show me how to do it.”

“That’s me. A good influence all the way.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1045768.html. You can comment here or there.

Don’t Stick Out

Jan10

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.

Turnabout, a fic-start

Jan8

To [personal profile] kissofjudas‘ prompt: Addergoole, maybe 2 years into the apocalypse.

It was a week into the Keeping that things went south.

If it had been on the first or second or third order, the second day or third, Vercingetorix might have freed her and tried to get a promise not to mess with him in retaliation. But no, it was a week in and even if he’d wanted to, she’d learned too much.

“Go do the dishes, and then work on your homework.” It’d been a long day, and they were both tired; her magic class was exhausting, which he might have remembered if he’d been thinking straight.

“No.” Glaucia looked at him as if challenging him to say something. “I need something to eat, I’m falling over, and I don’t have any homework. Why don’t you do the dishes?”

And, much to his surprise, Vercingetorix had found himself washing the dishes.

To his further surprise, he found his Kept sitting in the armchair, knees to her chest and hands over her face, delicate fins sticking up behind her thumbs.

He took her to Caitrin’s, of course, because he remembered Changing without the pain meds and would wish that on nobody. And in the cuddling and reassuring and watching her little fins and webs and scales come in, Vercingetorix pretty much forgot about the thing with the dishes and so did Glaucia.

The next time was a couple days later, when she started arguing with him about sleeping arrangements. “If you don’t like it,” he bellowed, “sleep on the floor!”

“No! I don’t see why I should. You sleep on the floor!”

And not only did Vercingetorix find himself curled up in the corner of the room with a spare pillow, not entirely sure what had happened, but he felt miserable, like he’d just yelled at his Keeper.

In Vercingetorix’s defense, this sort of thing rarely happened, and he’d never heard stories of it before, not even rumors or whispers. The Kept bond was a Law; you couldn’t break it. Thus, it took him a little while to figure out what was going on.

It took Glaucia a little less time, because she had far less preconceptions to work from. Her Keeper had been able to make her feel miserable and tell her what to do; now she could share that. One made as much sense as the other.

Once she’d figured it out, it was easy to figure out that she should subtle with it – not all his orders were annoying, not everything he did was unpleasant, so she pushed back only when she found what he was doing onerous or annoying (or when she was having a bad day).

If she’d stayed with being sneaky, it might have taken Vercingetorix even longer to figure out what was going on. But since she was a curious-minded individual, she started experimenting with the bonds of her new trick. And when she started pushing things, Vercingetorix finally went from “something is weird here” to understanding what was going on.

Of course, by then, it would prove almost impossible for him to release her.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1044159.html. You can comment here or there.

January Theme Poll Closed!

Jan6

The January Theme Poll is Closed!

The Winner is Addergoole!

Check out my Patreon here:

https://www.patreon.com/aldersprig

and sponsor for just $1/month to read all stories, or $5/month to prompt.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1042067.html. You can comment here or there.

And your Little Friends Too

Jan4

Written to [personal profile] rix_scaedu‘s prompt

Callis had finally gotten the last of the babies to sleep when someone knocked on the door.

He didn’t so much sigh as slump with his entire body, and even that he only indulged in for a half a breath. He gestured to Mike, nearly as old as he was, and to Candace, who might only be twelve but was murder with a rifle. Odile would have to watch the babies, and then they’d have to go through the whole process of getting them to sleep again. But that was later. Right now, there was the threat at the door.

Callis leaned his body over from the side to peek out the view port. They’d learned that the hard way, in their last hide-out. They’d learned a lot of things the hard way.

A man was standing in front of the peephole, his hands up and empty. “Callis Avondale? I’m just here to talk.”

Callis looked back at Mike and Candace. They were frowning, worried. The babies were stirring. Colby, the youngest, had started crying. If he stood here and shouted through the door, the kids were just going to get worked up. “Stand back and keep your hands where I can see him.”

Candace stepped up into position. Callis might not survive this, but their attacker would last about three seconds after his first strike. He took a breath and another breath and steeled himself, then pushed the door open.

The man standing on the other side was shorter than Callis, but muscular like he’d never missed a meal. His t-shirt was clean and his jeans didn’t have any holes, and neither did his sneakers.

“Callis?”

“That’s me.” His skin was itching just standing here, looking at this clean guy with his perfect shoes.

“My name’s Luke Hunting-Hawk. We have a place for you in a school, a safe place with food and water.” His gaze clearly took in Callis’ ripped clothes.

“All of us?”

“All… Your friends?”

“The kids. I’m not going to leave them. They’re just kids. They’ll die out here.”

Luke raised his eyebrows. “You want to bring your friends with you.”

“What, is this sort of exclusive bunker?”

Luke shifted a bit and coughed, looking embarrassed. “You could say that. It’s a school. But I can come up with a safe place for all your friends.”
“But not in the school.” Callis frowned. “That doesn’t seem fair. Who’s going to teach the kids to read and write and hot-wire a car and all the other useful stuff?”

He thought the man might be getting a little exasperated, until his slightly twisted expression settled into a chuckle. “All right. I’ll get your friends set up with a full education, hotwiring included, full meals – and help finding their own place when and if they’re ready to go out on their own, or when you graduate school. In the meantime, would you settle for someplace warm and safe for them while I get you settled in school and make arrangements for them?”

“Just like that?” Callis took a step back. “What’s the catch?”

“The catch is, the school wants you to attend. There’s been a spot reserved for you for a long time. So you come to Addergoole, and your friends are warm and safe.”

Callis huffed quietly. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“I can’t give you any guarantees. But I give you my word that I will help your friends as best as I can, and that you’ll be free to visit them at least, say, once a month.”

The food supply was running low and one of the babies had a bad cough. Callis sighed. “All right. But the ones old enough to understand get to make up their own minds, all right?”

Luke smiled gently. “Of course. There’s a couple thermoses of soup in the van and some blankets; we can get started as soon as you’re ready.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1039345.html. You can comment here or there.

Such a nice girl…

Dec19

Content warning: mind control, threat of violence, implied non-con, straight out nastiness.

Pls. don’t read if that’s gonna make you need to yell at the characters or the school. I wrote this one just for fun.

“That’s it. Hands behind your head.”

She’d been so nice.

Archimedes put his hands behind his head. Not because he wanted to; at the moment, he really didn’t want to do anything but run away. He was, sadly, already kneeling.

“Keep them there. Stay. Good boy.”

She’d helped him figure out this place, with electricity he barely remembered and food he’d never eaten. She’d gotten between him and some bullies, and if it grated that a girl was in between him and bullies, well, she’d softened that with a kiss.

He shifted his weight from knee to knee. The good boy felt good, but she was holding something that looked like a mop made of leather strips. “I don’t-“

“I know you don’t. But you’ll learn, won’t you?” She dropped down to her knees in front of him, the whip-thing falling to the floor. She was looking in his eyes, her own purple and terrifying.

She’d been so nice. It had felt so good talking to someone who got it, who could show him all the wonders of this place like the miracles they really were.

Archimedes held very still. The whip, the whip-thing had come out because he’d gotten freaked out. She was pretty, she was still pretty, but she was not, definitely not, human.

“Attaboy. That’s good. You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

He didn’t really know what had happened. She’d been holding him. They’d been enjoying the shower together. And then, then…

“Some of us are monsters,” she’d said. That had been the first day.

Archimedes swallowed. “You’re gorgeous. And it feels really good when you touch me.”

She’d told him not to lie, and he’d found that what she told him, he couldn’t disobey. Maybe she’d forgotten that, because she smiled. He focused on those purple eyes and tried to ignore the sharp, sharp teeth.

“That’s a good boy.” Her hand cupped his balls, her claws just barely pricking his skin. “Maybe if you can be very, very good for me, I won’t have to whip you, hrmmm?”

She’d been so nice. And then she’d looked at him, and her voice had dropped down low. “Don’t ever forget the nice guys ruined our planet as much as the bad guys.”

Archimedes nodded slowly. His throat was dry and his skin was crawling. “I can be good for you. You’re so beautiful.” Nobody’d ever said he wasn’t a quick learner.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1028265.html. You can comment here or there.