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Derailed, Part 2

Apr3

After Part One

Agmund was shouting, too, snapping out workings, and then “Three, two, one, now!” At now, Luke launched the heavy man at the back of the train.

Freed of the excess weight, Luke sprang through the air, swooping down on the first car like an eagle catching his prey. The tracks would take the train where they wanted it; the trick was making sure it got there with its cargo intact.

The engineer was still trying to get the train stopped, cursing and shouting at mechanisms that were no longer listening to him. He barely noticed Luke slipping into the locomotive and from there into the first car.

Somewhere between him and Agmund were, hopefully, two things: a hostage, and a bomb. The one was powerful enough to blow up not just the other, but the train and its city of call, as well. The second was a pretty impressive stack of explosives, too. Neither one of them had a long fuse, and neither was completely under the control of the moron who had come up with this plan.

“Evening,” he grunted at the passengers, who had gone from staring out the windows in horror to staring at him in horror. “Just passing through.” He strode through the center aisle, muttering Workings. She was somewhere on this train. They knew that much. She was nearby. But she also defied most conventional Knowing.

“Terrorist!” a woman shouted at him. “I heard him! You heard him, Jim, he was praying! Terrorist!”

He barely had time to duck before she hit him with her purse.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/314366.html. You can comment here or there.

In The Tub, a vignette of Cya/Boom/Postapoc

Apr2

I realized I’d had Panlong in the tub for two months, whoops.

This story comes after:
Separation Anxiety (LJ) Boom!/RP timeline/ Cynara
Parting Advice, and Mother Bears (LJ)
Mother-Son Bonding (LJ)
Kept du Jour (LJ)
“Are we killing this one?” (LJ)
Meeting the Family (LJ) (a chat log)
Roleplay Log (Cya/Cabal, posted by cluudle)
Cleaning Up (LJ), One month later and 2 Vignettes of Cya (LJ)

Panlong was, unsurprisingly, in the tub, the water almost to his chest. If it weren’t for the antlers, he’d look helpless; even with them, he looked lost.

“Scoot up.” She set the mugs on the wide edge of the tub. “The one with the blue marshmallows is for you.”

“Thanks?” He scooted forward in the tub, clearly confused, and then even more confused as Cya started pulling her clothes off. “Ma’am…”

“Have you been Kept before, Panlong?” She already knew the answer, of course. But it was as good a place to start as any.

“Yes, ma’am,” His eyes were very firmly fixed on her face. “By Tethys. And then by Selena.”

Tethys she already knew too much about. “Selena sh’…” Naked, she slid into the tub behind her

“Sh’Oralee, ma’am. Cy’Linden.” He was sitting stiffly, trying not to touch her at all. She wrapped her arms around his chest, feeling the tension there.

“That explains a lot. Lean back against me, carefully, Pan, mind those antlers.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Curiosity got the best of him, and he leaned. “Explains, ma’am?”

“I think this is one of this situations where you can lay off the ‘ma’am’ for a bit.” Gentle. She needed to be gentle with him. It wasn’t his fault. “Bad Keeping begets more bad Keeping begets bad behaviour. It wouldn’t have occurred to you that anything was wrong with Yoshi.”

“Oh.” He was board-like against her, as far from relaxed as was possible to get. “My Keeping wasn’t bad. I mean, Tethys…”

“You said you were never happy when you were with her. There’s no need to protect her now, Pan.”

“Are you going to kill her?” His voice was thready and, against her hands, his heart was pounding hard and fast. “Only… she’s my friend, you know? Now?”

“I’m not going to kill her.” Only in saying it did she realize it was true. “That’s Yoshi’s job, should he want it. And I’m not sure he will.”

“Oh.” He sagged her in arms. “Are you going to kill me?”

She planted a careful kiss on the back of his neck, just below the collar. She really needed to make him his own. “No. No, Pan, I’m not going to kill you.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/313853.html. You can comment here or there.

Safe House, a half-story

Mar31

For Rix_Scaedu‘s commissioned prompt.

After The Life You Make (LJ) and Memories (LJ), and directly after Company (LJ)

Faerie Apoc, Addergoole – landing page here (or on LJ)

“Aly,” he called, and gestured for the third of his employees to guard the kids. Viatrix didn’t have the kill-the-trouble-now face on, but she did look worried.

“What is it… hunh.” The two women in the doorway tickled half a memory for him. He’d seen their faces before, somewhere, the taller one more than the shorter one.

“Oh, hell no.” The taller one was carrying blades. Four of them. The shorter one was carrying a single rapier. “I heard that this was a safe house. That was a bad joke, right?”

Viatrix looked between the two women, and back to Baram. “He doesn’t remember you,” she explained. “He doesn’t remember much at all longer than a year ago.”

He remembered that look on people’s faces, though. Monster. Creature. Kill it. Not the one that replaced that – anger with no target, loss, confusion. “He doesn’t remember?” She turned to face him directly, still keeping her body between the shorter girl and him. “You don’t remember me? You raped me and you don’t remember me? I have your SON and you don’t remember me?”

“Callie,” the shorter girl murmured, “not on the street, okay?”

He looked the two girls over, and noted the children in the car. “Not on the street. I promise, if you don’t attack me, I will offer you no harm while you’re in my house. Come in.” Raped her. Had he? Monster. Creature. Kill him.

The two visitors shared a look, and then the taller one, Callie, Callie, he almost remembered a Callie, looked at Viatrix. “Does he speak for you?”

“If you don’t harm me or mine, I promise I won’t harm you or yours,” Via shrugged. “He’s my employer, not my Keeper.”

“You stay here of your own free will?” That was the short one this time, staring at Viatrix.

Via wasn’t Jaelie, but she could read a situation, better than Baram could. She stepped out of the way, letting the two women into his cave. “He keeps us and our kids safe. I guess we are a safe house, if you come down to it.”

Safe house. Baram couldn’t help a smile. The monster ran a safe house.

Next: Signal Fire

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/312898.html. You can comment here or there.

Derailed, Part 1, a story of #Addergoole Apoc

Mar30

Addergoole-verse, but not related to the Addergoole stories except in the characters used. No sex, slavery, or mind control involved.

Circa 2012-2014

“Ready?”

“Da.”

“Certainly.”

“Check.”

The train was speeding down the tracks, the same route it took every day, the same tracks that trains had been going down for almost two hundred years. Luke had watched it countless times through the years, but never so intently as he was today.

“On three.” He timed his count to the speed of the train as it barreled closer. “One. Two. Three.” His left hand came down, his wings flared, and all four of them starting muttering Workings at their top speed as the train got closer, closer, “NOW!”

Agmund threw off the last syllable of his Working as the train hit their improvised switch point. Caity yelled off her metal-twist just in time, and she and Yixox hauled the train to the right. Towards them. Directly at Luke and Agmund.

They dove to opposite sides of their new tracks just in time, Luke landing in the ditch they’d dug last night, Agmund’s swearing suggesting he’d ended up likewise damp. On the sides of the mound they’d risen, Caity and Akatil kept Working, cutting off the connection between the tracks, slowly rolling their track up behind the train. There was nowhere for it to go but forward.

That, of course, was only the first step. Luke brought himself to his feet and grabbed Agmund’s hand. He hated carrying passengers. Loathed it. But Agmund couldn’t fly on his own, and he needed the Bear’s firepower. He shifted his grip to the bigger man’s armpits and launched them off the ground with a muttered Working for defying gravity. He’d need more than one of those if they were going to catch the train in time.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/312531.html. You can comment here or there.

Company, a half-story

Mar29

For Rix_Scaedu‘s commissioned prompt; half a story but it was too good an ending point not to cut it there.

After The Life You Make (LJ) and Memories (LJ)

Faerie Apoc, Addergoole – landing page here (or on LJ)

Baram was surrounded by children and women, up to his neck in high-pitched voices and drowning of it.

He wanted to go to the car shop. People were still trying to live ordinary lives out there, and they still needed cars fixed. But Jaelie was out for… the calendar said four more days, taking Swish to Addergoole. And there were monsters all around. Real monsters. People who had threatened his home, his vassals, his neighborhood. So here he was, up to his neck in children playing – he was pretty sure – Monsters and Fairies.

If he had to take twenty more minutes of this, Baram was going to start wishing for more monsters. He made his scary-face at a child running by too closely, and scooped it up, swinging it around airplane style. “Rarr, Rarr,” he mock-growled. The kid shrieked and screamed happily, and ran off giggling. Baram scowled more fiercely, hiding a small smile. Kids were fun… in short doses. Not for a week at a time. Not this many kids.

The doorbell rung. He looked up, noticed the kids going into drill mode like they’d been taught, clearing out of the living room, moving back into the kitchen and down into the basement. He caught the smallest three and handed them to the biggest three as Viatrix got the door.

“Boss,” she called uncertainly, “I think this is for you.”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/312898.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/311859.html. You can comment here or there.

Pain in the… a story of #Addergoole yr14 for @natalief

Mar27

This is from natalief‘s request here. I confess, I didn’t actually answer any of the questions posed in the prompt, but I sort of laid down some foundation stones.

At first, Arianwen thought it was just another migraine.

Dr. Caitrin hadn’t been able to do much for her, any more than the doctors back home had. She’d frowned, run some tests, run some more tests, and sent Ari back to her room with some aspirin and a note for light PE activity on the bad days.

And this was a bad day. First the shit with Gillian in Lit, and then Januarius had followed her back to her room, making some noise about a dance or something. Like she wanted that noise. Like she wanted the flashing lights and people everywhere, up in her face, jostling her. He might as well have been asking her to dress up for a torture session.

This place didn’t understand the meaning of “introvert;” they didn’t understand the meaning of “spoons,” or what it meant to run out of them, and they seemed to think every problem could be solved with judicious application of beer, or possibly whiskey. Januarius had flat-out offered to cook her up some nice pain pills in his dorm room! His roommate, Azra, had been trying to get Ari to agree to a make-over.

It was enough to make a girl hide in her room and never come out, except when she tried that, Luke or Doug came knocking. Doug had, of all of them, been the most helpful, helping her figure out a program of light exercise that seemed to make the migraines last less long and come less often, and helping her come up with work-arounds for the dizziness and nausea. He seemed to have a lot of practice dealing with her symptoms, but he was even more close-mouthed than normal when she asked him why.

Just another oddity in this very odd school. And now this headache, this stabbing through her temples, the pressure in her sinuses, the nausea and spots in her vision. The spots that were dancing in some sort of pattern. That was new. Should she call the doctor? No, of course not, there was no phone.

If she passed out… the thought terrified her. She could hit her head. She could not wake up. They wouldn’t come in her room; it could be Monday before anyone noticed she was missing. By then…

She opened the door. If anyone messed with her, she’d mace them.

Januarius was standing outside her door, hand raised to knock. He frowned at her, suddenly looking worried. “Ari, we’re got to get you to the doctor.”

“Yes, please,” she gasped. The lights out here were horrid, causing stabbing pain right above her nose. She closed her eyes to rub them, and
v
e
r
y
s
l
o
w
l
y
f
e
l
l.

Every clock-tick seemed to last an eternity. Every heartbeat was at least a week apart. She could see the spaces between the seconds, for a brief flash of clarity. Then there was nothing but endless pain.

“I’ve got you,” Januarius whispered, and, blessedly, horribly, terrifyingly, she passed out.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/309947.html. You can comment here or there.

Presently, a story of #Addergoole Yr9 for the (February) Giraffe Call (@Rix_scaedu)

Mar27

For [profile] rix_scaedu‘s commissioned prompt – more of “Birthday Present,” from the December Giraffe Call.

Addergoole has a landing page here

Noam has a sketch here.

He didn’t have any orders! There was nothing holding him from saying anything he wanted! Noam opened his mouth to tell Brenna exactly what he thought of “fun.”

Except, of course, as far as he knew, there wasn’t any way out of Belonging to someone except having them let you go. He closed his mouth again. Pissing her off was probably not what he wanted to do. He tugged at the ribbons a little more, though, just on principle.

Brenna’s face fell. “You don’t want to be here.”

Shit. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re trying to get away.”

“I’m trying to get untied. Trying to get away would involve more backing towards the door and fumbling with the doorknob.” He gave her his best smile. “I’m not going to lie to you, this wasn’t my idea. Hera caught me in the halls. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think dating you would be a good idea.” Dating, please. Noam was pretty sure he could handle dating.

She touched his pectoral lightly, as if worried it would burn her. When it didn’t light on fire, she set her hand, palm-down, across his chest. “You never said anything.”

“Neither did you. I figured you weren’t interested.”

“Oh.” She looked down at their toes. At her Masked toes, he noted, even here in her bedroom, and his still in shoes. “Oh.”

He kept smiling at her. Smiling seemed good. Her touch seemed very good. “You know, if you let me go, we could date. I’d like that a lot.”

She frowned. “You’re just saying that so I’ll let you go.”

“Well, I’m hoping you’ll let me go, yeah, but I would like dating you, too.” Gods, please?

She bit her lip and shook her head. She hadn’t Masked her teeth. They were very very sharp. “Nobody stays around me long if they have a choice.”

She wasn’t going to let him go, was she? He might as well make the best of it. Noam smiled for her, hoping it wasn’t too fake-looking (Again. He was going to have to spend XP on charisma and bluffing). “Well, I’m yours.”

“You are,” she agreed. “For a while, at least. It’s not forever.”

“Well, if I had to be Owned by someone…” which he’d been doing such a good job of avoiding, thank you, “I’m glad it was you.” He gave the ribbon around his wrists a little tug. He could probably undo it now. Maybe he should wait and let her untie it instead. “What do you think about it?”

“I think…” She looked him over hesitantly, sidelong, uncertainly. “I think you’re mine?”

“Okay.” It was a starting point, at least. “And what do you want to do with me?”

She tugged on the ribbon around his neck. “Unwrap you…” Her shy look up at him was heart-rending. “If that’s okay?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/309630.html. You can comment here or there.

Ciara: Pet Wolf

Mar26

After Wolf in Hand (LJ)

Ciara had been asleep in the infirmary for a few hours when a noise
woke her. The doctor had been able to put her back together “good as
new,” but suggested firmly that an overnight stay would be good for
her, “just in case.” Ciara had agreed – there was really no point in
trying to argue with Dr. Caitrin anyway, certainly not with Luke
hovering over her – and had succumbed, once again, to unconsciousness.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Luke’s voice was quiet in the dark of the
mid-night clinic.

“She told me I could.” Amadeus was trying to keep his voice down, but
he had less practice than Luke. “Here, on page two.”

“She did,” Luke confirmed, a moment later. “But that doesn’t explain
why you’re here.”

There was a moment of silence, and then she heard her new Kept say, rather unwillingly, “I want to see if she’s okay.”

“You broke her leg, her wrist, and at least five of her ribs, as well as puncturing a couple of her internal organs. I wouldn’t say she’s okay.”

“She challenged me!” he flared, and then, quieter, “Dr. Caitrin fixed her, right?”

“She did,” Luke murmured. “Amadeus…” his voice dropped down lower than Ciara could hear.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.” From the sounds of it, Luke was pleased with himself. “You can see her now.”

Ciara kept her eyes closed and her breathing even as Amadeus walked in, although she couldn’t keep her heart from pounding a bit. What had her orders said about this? Shit, did she want him this close to her?

Little late for that, she told herself sternly, as his hand rested on her arm. “Ciara?” he whispered loudly. Then, when she “didn’t wake,” “Damnit, Ciara.”

She opened her eyes, glad it didn’t hurt to so, and stared at him. He stared back at her, angry. “You’re fine, right?”

She couldn’t help a little smile. “You’re all packed up?”

“Couldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Damnit, those orders…!”

Her smile was growing a bit. Irritating him didn’t seem wise, but, then again, he was hers now. “I didn’t expect you to be happy if I won. It seemed safer to be thorough.”

“If.” He was only getting angrier. “Are you telling me you weren’t sure? Why would you risk everything like that?”

“Why did you?”

He grumbled incoherently for a moment. “I didn’t think I could lose.”

“I was betting on that,” she admitted. Quieter, she added, “I’m told that Kept are happier if there’s physical contact.”

He leered, but his heart wasn’t in it. “This is what it takes to get into your bed?”

“Yes.” The bed was narrow, but wide enough. She scooted to one side, and patted the space next to her. “I didn’t want to be your pet, Amadeus.”

“So you arranged things so I’d be yours.” He sat down on the bed gingerly.

“Well.” She took his hand in her own. “From what I’m told, there’s some negotiation as to the exact role a Kept plays.”

“Meaning what?” He didn’t snatch his hand away, but his shoulders were still stiff and angry.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/308543.html. You can comment here or there.

Trying, A story of #Addergoole Yr8 for the Feburary Giraffe Call

Mar25

After So I’ve Started Out (LJ) and Porter Needs a Girlfriend (LJ), to Friendly Anon’s commissioned prompt.

Addergoole has a landing page here and on LJ.

She’d walked away the first time he’d brought it up. “The Bond takes away your choice,” she’d said.

“So does not asking me,” he’d retorted. She’d shook her head angrily, making him want to grovel and apologize, but all she’d said, maddeningly, was the same thing she always did:

“You do not understand.”

“Explain it to me,” he complained, but only after she’d shut the door behind her.

When he tried again, he went at it sideways, talking about Porter first. Porter did, after all, need a girlfriend. But, then again, so did Arundel.

“Would you like to have a boyfriend,” he asked her, “me, I mean?”

She’d been surprised, which wasn’t really a good plan – she hated, he already knew, being surprised. She pursed her lips, and he ignored his sudden urge to apologize. “Would you ask that, if I didn’t Own you? Answer me honestly.”

“I would have asked sooner, if you didn’t Own me. Like, the day I fell through your ceiling… okay, maybe not then, but pretty soon after then.”

“In truth?” Darnit, he’d surprised her again.

“You ordered me to be honest,” he pointed out, beginning to get frustrated. He couldn’t win with her. “I want to be your boyfriend. I want to kiss you. I want you to believe me when I talk to you.”

She stared off at the wall, frowning. “That could be the Bond,” she pointed out. “It makes you want physical contact, even if you wouldn’t, otherwise.”

She was going to talk herself out of it. Again. And leave him frustrated and her cranky. Arundel flared his wings, wanting to shout. Shouting was a bad idea. Shouting would only make her more angry.

“So if it’s the Bond,” he said slowly, “then you’re worried I will regret it afterwards?”

“Exactly. You’re acting under the influence. You’re not thinking clearly, cannot think clearly when the Bond is pushing at you.”

“And you’re worried that a Bond-induced need for physical contact is making me want to kiss you.”

She lifted her shoulders and dropped them again in discomfort. “The thought did occur to me, yet. I am not, normally, dating material.”

“The people that let you think that are lying to you,” he flared. “Or you’re lying to yourself.”

“I have never had a boyfriend who wasn’t… I have never had a boyfriend.”

“Well, maybe you should try?” he tried, one last time. “Look, if you’re worried it’s the touch thing, how about an experiment?”

“An experiment?” He had her attention, good.

“Figure out what you think is a Bond-satisfying amount of touch, and give me that for a week. No dating, no kissing, nothing like that. Just touch. If I still want to date you after a week…”

She was nodding. Good, nodding was a good thing. “If you still want to date me after a week of regular touch, then we can assume it’s a genuine want.” She graced him with a small smile and took both his hands in hers. “That’s a clever idea, Arundel.”

His heart soared like he was flying. “I try,” he answered in complete honesty.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/306678.html. You can comment here or there.

A sequential vignette of Addergoole, Year 9

Mar22

To Friendly Anon’s prompt; a continuation of this vignette (LJ)

“So,” Porter asked, hat in hand and clearly uncomfortable, “are you going to help?”

“That’s a silly question,” Sylvia informed him. She stood up and turned the TV off. “Arundel is in my crew. Of course I’m going to help. Besides,” she added, as she would to no one save Porter, “I like him. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Porter grinned at her, giving her the impression he’d just wanted to hear her say that. “I like him too. So, what’s the plan?”

“First, we determine the situation. Then, we determine the possible outcomes. Then we determine a course of action.”

Porter nodded. “Practical.” As he held open the door for her, he added, “You’re always practical, Sylvia.”

She nodded brusquely, not sure if it was intended as a compliment, but certain it was accurate to his perception of her. It was, after all, a perception she’d cultivated.

“Let’s go get Arundel out of trouble.” She smiled, or did a little mouth-grimace that people could interpret as a smile if they tried (She didn’t like full smiles, never had, less so with her new teeth), and headed out into the world, or at least into the halls of Addergoole.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/304696.html. You can comment here or there.