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No-one said it would be easy

Apr20

No-on said it would be easy.
But no-one said it would be this hard.

Aelgifu sat in the break room, nursing her infant son while trying to figure out her biology homework.

Siggie was having a moody time of it lately, whiny and demanding whenever she left him with other people – even other-Mom, Io – for too long. His older sisters, in turn, were taking turns being as bratty as they could manage. None of them liked the apartment. None of them liked the day care. And, to a one, they all – even, on days like this, Ayla – wanted to go back to the Village, where all their friends were.

Nothing ever worth doing is easy.. Ayla kissed her son on the top of his head, and counted her blessings once again.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/514984.html. You can comment here or there.

H is for Holy Hot Hell Night, Batman

Apr19

To wyld_dandelyon‘s prompt.

Æowyn is a character from Addergoole: Year 9. This is set in Year 11.

The AC was broken in the halls of Addergoole, and the halls were, consequently sweltering.

Æowyn stripped off a layer, leaving her in a tank top and boxers, and tied her hair back in a ponytail. Things did not break in Addergoole, not like this, so it had to be someone’s idea of a prank.

Æowyn didn’t mind, not really. She wasn’t cold-blooded, not like some of the snakey Changes she’d met, but neither did she mind the heat. Some of the others, however, were clearly having a harder time of it. Eluned looked flat-out miserable, and Kendrew, a Cohort after Æowyn and Eluned and with a Change and power based on ice, looked as if he was going to melt.

“Holy Hot Hell Night, Batman.” She muttered it under her breath to amuse herself, and didn’t expect an answer.

“Holy hot snake ladies, Robin.”

“Holy… what?” she turned to follow a voice she didn’t recognize yet. Almost didn’t see him, as he’d managed to blend himself into a niche in the wall so well he was almost invisible.

“Holy hot snake ladies. Is Hell Night the day when they turn up the heat to see if we still sweat?”

Æowyn found a smile growing. He was cute, in a blonde-and-scruffy sort of way, if you could look around the edges of his apparent camouflage power. “In a manner of speaking. Do you?”

He wiped a hand over his brow. “Seems like it. You, too?”

“Despite the scales, yeah.” She looked at him, dripping in a corner. She could feel her fangs against her lips. “Something spook you?”

“Don’t tell anyone?”

“Cross my heart.” She made the gesture across the center of her chest, and felt the settling-in of a promise.

“I thought I heard horses galloping. When it turned out to be a centuar…. I freaked out.”

“Ah.” She smiled. “So you do sweat.”

“I just said… oh. Oh, it’s that sort of day.”

“Yeah.” Æowyn remembered her first Hell Night, and the way another blonde-and-scruffy boy had terrified her. “It’s that sort of day. Tell you what. ‘Come with me if you want to live.'” She held out her hand.

“Terminator. The heat really is on, isn’t it?” He studied her hand thoughtfully.

“I know a way to get out of the kitchen.” She kept her hand held out, not entirely certain what she was going to do.

“I’ll take it.” He slapped his hand into hers and squeezed. She squeezed back, and led him out of the heat.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/513563.html. You can comment here or there.

D is for Dances Down in that [Dystopic] Underground School

Apr15

For Rix_Scaedu and Lilfluff‘s prompts.

First Dance, Year Nine.

Everyone seemed so into the dances here.

Back at home, Pania had not been all that big on the whole idea of school dances. Then again, back at home, there had been other things to do, other places to hang out. Here, down in Addergoole, there was the Arcade, and the dances, as far as she could tell.

So she asked a couple questions of older girls – the ones who seemed willing to talk to her, and who seemed like they’d neither tease her mercilessly for asking nor lie to her to see what she showed up in, and she bought a dress from the Store’s rather wide selection of pretty party dresses, and gave in and bought heels to match.

There. I’m not going to be the belle of the ball, but I won’t be the laughingstock, either.

First Dance, Year Eighteen.

Dances. Really.

Lælia’s mum had spoken fondly of such things, from her own days at her alma matter, but Lælia hadn’t reallyexpected them to still be going on.

For one thing, that had been Year One – very nearly two decades ago. For another, that had been Before The End. Lælia didn’t know if they still had dances in normal high schools. She didn’t really know if they still had high school in normal high schools.

All of her friends from Jr. High had moved away when things started getting messy – moved away, or, in more than one case, just vanished. In those cases, Lælia (and everyone else) tried to pretend they’d just moved, too, that Carrie and Leslie were in the same “I don’t know where but Dad says it’s safe” as Jennifer and Tyler.

All her friends had gone away. Lælia had gone to Addergoole.

First Dance, Year Nine.

“A dance?” The lovely man in the velvet tux bowed over Pania’s hand.

“I’d, ah, be honored.” She was pretty sure that was what she was supposed to say. “I’m Pania.”

“Ambrus. Pleased to meet you.” He had the most stunning eyes she had ever seen.

“Me, too.” Smooth. Pania tried not to look like a complete moron as she let the gorgeous guy lead her out onto the floor. “This is louder than I expected.”

“It does that.” He smiled, bowed, and set one hand gently on her waist. “You get used to it after a while.”

“People have been saying that a lot.”

“It is true about any number of things, here.” He stepped in so he was almost against her; he smelled of aftershave, very faintly, and something deep and male. “And it’s true.”

First Dance, Year Eighteen.

Lælia had found a dress at the Store – she’d found dozens, maybe hundreds of dresses at the Store, actually, but one she really liked – and shoes, and all those things her mother had told her you needed for a dance.

She was relieved – and surprised – to find out that her mother’s descriptions of these things had been spot-on. Fancy dresses, guys in tuxes (two girls in tuxes, one guy in a dress, one in a kilt), loud music (most of which Lælia recognized), and booze flowing like water.

“Where do they get all the stuff?” She hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but, having said it, turned it to a handsome – nearly pretty – black-haired guy standing next to her at the bar.

He smiled, a brilliant thing that made the room brighter. “Magic.” He wiggled his fingers at her, and then turned it into an offer of a hand. “I’m Maleagant.”

“I’m Lælia. And if you tell me it’s magic, I’m willing to believe you.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/511092.html. You can comment here or there.

Way Back Wednesday: Akatil Yixox

Apr3

Early 1970’s

Reid found the goblin who was dubiously named Akatil Yixox where he’d expected to find him – miles deep inside the machinery, tinkering.

“‘Keel.”

“Reid.” The tiny man pushed his goggles onto the top of his head. “I’m working.”

“I got an offer. And it includes both of us.” He paused. “Mo made the offer, actually.”

“You’re obviously going to take it.”

“It’s got a lot of merit. And it involves teaching.”

“And you want me to come along.”

“They don’t have a good Unutu guy.” Reid could barely say the word. “And, besides, you owe me seventeen and one-half favors.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/504476.html. You can comment here or there.

Fashion in Addergoole After the Apocalypse, a series of Vignettes

Mar30

Just before Year 18

The stores hadn’t gotten any new stock in months, but they were struggling, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong, hoping – like everyone was – that this would blow over soon, that things would go back to normal.

They’d pulled all of last year’s stock, anything they had in their warehouses and back rooms, in a sad attempt to keep things normal.

“Mom, I can’t go to school in last year’s clothes. Everyone’s going to laugh at me.”

“No, they’re not.” Laurelia’s mother was amazingly unsympathetic. “Because the world is ending everywhere, Laurelia, not just here.”

“But these clothes are so… ugh.” She plucked at the tunic-shirt distastefully. The end of the world was being very irritating.

“Then I suggest you learn to sew.”

Just before Year 27
Every piece of clothing Garden owned had been patched at least once. Every piece of clothing everyone she knew owned had been patched at least once. After a while, they’d given up on making clothes look new and had settled for being warm.

Except holiday clothes. Garden still had a skirt where you couldn’t see how they’d altered it and a nice soft sweater where they’d made the darns decorative.

The week before she was supposed to go to Addergoole, her mother pulled out a box Garden had never seen before. “I saved these.” The clothing was soft, clean – new – and smelled of cedar chips and lavender. “It’s not enough for the whole year, but it will get you started. And it looks like I got the size about right.”

Just before Year 37
Moretta’s mother was the seamstress for their town, which gave her a bit of an advantage. Her mother had tried out most of her ideas – how to take three pairs of ruined pants and make one nice pair, how to turn an old, ripped blanket into a jacket, how to make a dress from whatever you had leftover from other projects – using Moretta as a mobile dummy and advertising placard.

In return, Moretta had clothes to pack for Addergoole that looked like clothes. Her mother had dug into an old stash of fabric and spent some time looking at old fashion magazines, and then spent three months sewing. “They’re going to be coming from all over the country. Except Ediana, who you know, and Gerald. But most of them will be strangers. Their people will have different fashions. Remember that. There is no ‘voice of fashion’ anymore. And in Addergoole… well, there will be bigger problems.”

Moretta, who had been born four years after the world ended, didn’t know what her mother was talking about. But she knew that she had clothing that looked good on her, and felt nice, and kept her warm.

Just before Year 47
“All right. Two nice dresses, five pairs of pants, and three skirts. Nobody at school will be as well-dressed as you are.”

Naia’s mother wasn’t by any means an accomplished seamstress, but she was a very good cobbler and leather-worker, and her sister, Naia’s Aunt Prima, owned the burgeoning textile mill that employed most of the town. Naia knew she was lucky to be as well-dressed – and certainly well-shod – as she was.

She stroked the skirt carefully. “It’s all very nice.”

“But you’re thinking about the girls from New Detroit, aren’t you? With the fancy trim and the strange cuts on everything?”

“And the ones from the South.” Since her mother had said it, she could admit it. “With those pants.”

“You won’t be out of fashion in Addergoole. But, just in case…” Her mother folded a dress in the New Detroit style into the trunk.

Thanks to @inventrix for the names and for brainstorming with me on the fashion.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/501603.html. You can comment here or there.

Lazy Bidding

Mar29

For Rix_Scaedu‘s commissioned continuation of Laziness as an Art Form and Laziness X4.

“So, my Master wants to know, if you are concerned about the number of Kept he’s taken in, what you would bid to take one of them off of his hands.” By the third upperclassman Roanna talked to, she had the words down pat.

She was also getting used to the look of disbelief, although every person had a different reason for the disbelief.

“Concerned? No, I’m just impressed. I never managed more than three, and I had to set someone on fire for that one.” The draconic-Change Yisachar smirked down at Roanna. “You can tell your Master, if I want one of his Kept, he’ll know when his pants are on fire.”

Roanna gulped. “I’ll tell him, sir…”

“Just Zak is fine.”

“Zak. Sorry to bother you.”

“Oh, I’m not bothered. You are pretty, you know.”

“No, that’s Zuleyma.”

He just smiled. “Good luck with your auction.”

He was the only one to outright threaten. Cillian, short and Irish-looking and ratty, just leered at her. “I’ll take you for whatever he wants to sell you for. I’m real good at making happy pills.”

Something about his breath made Roanna’s skin crawl. “Not Zuleyma? She’s the pretty one.”

“I don’t want a princess, I want a good woman.” He made as if to squeeze her bum, but stopped short of actually touching her. “A good girl, a clever girl.”

“Flattered. I’ll let him know.”

If these were her options, she’d take sharing a spare bunk with Tamberlain or Zuleyma for the rest of the year.

Adder just looked amused by the whole thing. “I’m not a Keeper sort, really. I mean, I tried it, but it’s not my thing. I was just wondering what it had to be like, sharing a Keeper with three other Kept.”

“Oh.” Roanna gave that one some thought. “It’s weird. I don’t really like Segenam, you know? But I’m still competing for his attention.”

“That’s a lot of being Kept for you. Even when you’re the only one. Good luck with your auction.”

“Thanks.” She really had to find someone who either wanted her more than Cillian did, or wanted someone else more than Cillian did.

“Which of you are good at housework?”

Oh, a girl. This could be interesting. Roanna turned around to behold the elfiest Elf Change she had ever seen. “Well, ma’am, that would be me or Merton.”

“Merton. Hrrm. Is he the short black-haired one? With the teddy-bear Change?”

“He got a little taller with the Change, but that’s him, yes.”

“Tell your Keeper I’ll offer three mid-level favors, standard conditions, for your Merton. And I think I know who you can get to buy the princess.” Her smile was somewhat sympathetic. “You’re a cute one, but I’m not into girls, sorry. And you’re too…”

“I know.” Roanna sighed. “Unless someone wants a housewife, they’re going to want Zuleyma first.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing, you know. Even if it does mean you get stuck with Segenam. I know him. He’s going to be too lazy to be too much of a bad Keeper, and you can probably find a way around him enough to get your own way.”

“But I’m still Kept.”

“That’s generally how it goes. Look, I’m Kianna. Talk to Thahn and Vianna about taking the Princess off your hands.”

Roanna thanked Kianna, and went searching for Thahn and Vianna. Thahn and Vianna turned out to be a semi-terrifying pair of twins, who seemed plenty interested in trading for Zuleyma and offered a series of complicated terms.

She took her notes back to Segenam, who, on looking at her ten pages of notes, insisted on the short version.

“You have potential buyers for all four of us. I think most of them are okay, but I think Cilian is really creepy and I’m not sure Adder is a good idea. How many of us to you want to get rid of?”

The words filled her with an unhappy lump in her throat. Get rid of. Why would that bother her? Why should she care that he didn’t want her?

Much to her chagrin, she found she was crying. And, of course, the only one who wanted her was the creep, Cillian.

“Hey.” Segenam frowned at her, which just made Roanna’s stomach do more unpleasant things. “Hey. What… oh.” He sighed, much-put-upon sounding, and patted her shoulder. “Cillian’s the one that offered for you?”

Roanna sniffled and nodded.

“I’d rather piss in his mouth than give him anything, even if he paid me. Someone better offer for the others?”

She sniffled and nodded again. “Though I mean… Adder?”

Segenam scoffed. “Adder can’t even Keep himself. Okay. So who’s that leave me, if we don’t deal with Adder and Silly Cillian?”

“Tamerlain and I.” She pulled a hanky out of her pocket and wiped her nose.

“Perfect. Good job.”

The surge of pleasure at the praise couldn’t quite cover over a dull lump of bitterness. “So you can fuck Tamerlain and I can cook and clean.”

Segenam made a funny face. Roanna had no idea what that one meant. “Or the other way around. I’m sure you can teach him how to cook and clean.”

Ro had no idea at all what to say to that.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/500277.html. You can comment here or there.

That Girl Thursday: Cody

Mar21

Guest Entry by [personal profile] lilfluff
Cody sh’Leyla cy’Caitin oro’Yolanda

Cody knew exactly who she was at her old school. She was the school freak and a geek. A role she had come to accept and even take some defiant pride in. And when she was informed she would be sent to Addergoole she didn’t expect any of that to change. Then the changes started coming.

Early the first week Doctor Caitrin gave her a name for her body’s physically genderless condition, the first time any of her doctors actually spoke with her regarding it. In the second week the masks came off revealing students and staff with far more blatant differences than hers. Then Hell Night came and terrified her until her Change came upon her. Fortunately as she recovered in Doctor Caitrin’s office she found she now had a protector in the form of her keeper and a whole suite full of new friends.

Cody was only a bare fraction over five feet tall short before her Change. Her lack of height and androgynous features often meant she was mistakenly thought younger than she actually was. Which while annoying she found preferable to when people thought she was a boy. That wasn’t helped by her preference for dressing in overalls and wearing unflashy jewelry. She has tried growing her chestnut colored hair longer but has found that no matter what she does it soon looks messy and at least when it’s short it just looks tousled.

After her Change she lost two inches of height and while furless she has taken on an almost elfin-feline appearance. The pupils of her gray eyes are no longer circular, long whiskers have sprouted from her face, and her ears grew longer and mobile. The only thing missing to complete the appearance would be a tail. But given her lack of fur she soon decided that was a good thing. While her Change didn’t bring claws or other fearsome features she did find herself with better hearing and balance, puzzling new sensations from her whiskers, and a powerful leaping ability. She just needs to make sure not to jump headfirst into walls like she did when she first changed.

She has yet to identify an innate ability. She is capable of bringing extreme focus to tasks. To the point of shutting out the outside world. But, she was prone to doing this long Changing or even arriving at Addergoole. With little social life she would often turn this focus onto her studies working at times several months ahead, leading to the grades that she thought were the reason she’d been granted a full ride scholarship for Addergoole.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/495445.html. You can comment here or there.

An Education

Mar21

For [personal profile] rix_scaedu‘s commissioned continuation of Educational.

Teach me.

It was the best way to couch it to him and, it seemed, the best way to show her, too.

Ambrus could teach. He hadn’t been given that much opportunity, before, but he knew how it worked. He had been watching people teach for years, spending his free time around teachers, reading the books in the Library on teaching. He had an idea of the concept.

And Phillipa seemed to enjoy learning. She wasn’t one of those goody-good-good students, the ones who knew everything and kissed the teacher’s ass – he couldn’t imagine her kissing anyone’s ass, or anyone’s anything, for that matter – but give her a challenge and she dove into it with a vengeance.

Learning how to be a sub was her new challenge. Teaching it was Ambrus’, and he found that, despite knowing all of it, so many of the ins and outs, teaching was turning out to be an entirely different thing.

“We’re going to the Library.” He was running out of other ideas. She kept asking why. He couldn’t remember, not clearly, the last time he’d asked why.

“Why?”

He almost laughed. Instead, he took hold of the ring in the front of her collar. The gesture forced her chin up, so that she was looking into his eyes. He smiled; she shivered. Something about his smile did that to her. He couldn’t really say he disliked it, but it was certainly novel. “We are going to the Library to research the condition of being submissive. You may come along unbound and speaking, or you may come along bound.”

Ambrus was a little surprised to see Phillipa licking her lips. “Bound sounds kind of hot.”

Damn. How was he going to get this one past Luke? He took the opportunity as a teaching moment while he worried about that.

“‘It sounds hot’ is one of the primary reasons for a great deal of d/s. After all, being Kept might be a cultural condition…”

“But being a submissive is a social kink.” Phillipa recited the response with a lip-licking smile. “Yes, sir. And I’m being a submissive today, right, sir?”

He’d found he couldn’t stand being called Master. Well, he was in charge, he could choose which title he wanted to hear.

“Today is a sub day. Good girl.” He patted her head and thought about the problem he’d created. All right. Taking her bound to the library. “Go put on that pretty little sundress. Skip the shoes and underwear. You won’t need them.”

“Yes, sir.” Her arousal was coming off her in waves. Ambrus adjusted his pants and thought about will-power, and the sacrifices of being in charge. You should Keep someone, indeed. His Mentor was a sadist.

While Phillipa dressed – such as it was – he dug through the toy box until he found the restraints and collar he wanted. His penchant for playing dress-up with her meant that his Kept had more collars than anyone but Zita. Luckily, she didn’t mind.

Today would be white leather. He took off her classroom collar and buckled the heavy collar around her throat. O-rings everywhere; this one jingled like a parade.

Then he added wrist cuffs – jangle, jangle, until he hooked them behind her back – and then the ankle cuffs. He stepped back and grinned at her.

She smiled back, testing out her range of motion. “I think I need a leash.”

“I think you need a leash, too. Conveniently, I brought one.” He hooked it to her collar. “Now. Let’s go to the Library.”

“I thought you said I was going to be silenced.”

“I like talking to you.” He kissed her, because the taste of her lips was wonderful. “Fine. Do not speak unless spoken to until we get back to the room. You are a hard woman to please.”

“I try.” She was grinning widely. Ambrus found her pleasure thrilling, a sort of thrill he didn’t remember feeling in a long time. He could make her happy, not because he had to, but just because he wanted to. That was neat.

Leading her through the hall made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. What if they ran into a…

“Ambrose.”

“Luke.” He swallowed hard. Ever since Regine had first brought him here, the angry Mara had terrified him. Even when Luke had clearly been trying not to be scary, he had still been so angry.

“Phillipa.”

“Sir.” She was grinning, the little minx, grinning. Awesome. He’d never seen an unhappy Kept be able to pull of a real grin.

“This is an interesting arrangement for the hallway.”

Oh, he was going to do his disappointed face. Ambrus smiled back at him, hoping he could pull this off. “We’re going to the Library to research Kept-Keeper dynamics.” He threw in, for fun, a little barb. “My Mentor thought it would be good for me to learn how to Keep someone.”

“Hrmph. He would.” Ambrus thought he saw the ghost of a smile on Luke’s face. “Well, if Wysteria doesn’t complain, I won’t either. Have fun, you too. Just… not in the halls.”

“Yes, sir.” Phillipa’s grin was catching. Ambrus tugged on her leash. “Come on, Pretty Petal Pony. Let’s… study.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/495078.html. You can comment here or there.

Way Back Wednesday: Leaving Town (D.J.)

Mar13

Some decades ago.

“What the hell kind of freak are you?”

“You’re no kind of woman at all!”

“Get out of this town!”

Dane Jordan straightened its skirt, thumbed its nose at the crowd, and left in no particular hurry. As long as it was leaving, they probably wouldn’t throw things. The trick was to leave so that they all saw it leaving – and didn’t think about the fact that its house was in this direction.

Dane had left more towns than it could count anymore. This was one of the cleanest departures so far, knock on wood. Then again, Dane had a lot of practice.

There was a car waiting in the driveway. A lean woman sat on the hood of the car. “I heard the trouble.”

Dane shrugged. Play it cool. Always play it cool. “Shit happens.”

“Not around the Ellehemaei.”

Now that was a word Dane hadn’t heard in a while. “I’m listening.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/492394.html. You can comment here or there.