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The Crew Continues, a ficlet of Doomsday Academy

After/part of When my tablet runs out of battery…, which is after Acquiring Students

Doomsday Academy, a little over a decade before Cya Keeps Leo.

Kerr was not talkative. He communicated when Miss Ascha pushed him in class. He told the cook what he wanted, at lunch. With Aron and Sunny, he preferred gestures and a minimum of words.

When he brought Astarte over to Aron and Sunny, the day she arrived – the first day of their second year of school and her first year – he did so without words. He took her hand and gave a tug; she followed. He tugged again, and she walked with him, her white-pale hand in his dark one, until he tugged her one more time to pull her in front of him, presenting her very clearly to Sunny and Aron.

Aron understood. “Hi,” he said, if for no other reason than to prove that one of them actually talked. “We’re a crew, or we will be when we’re old enough. Want to join?”

She was as small as they had been a year ago, her eyes wide. But she smiled. “You’re funny,” she told Kerr. “I like that.” She tilted her head at Aron, looked down at her hand, still firmly held in Kerr’s, and giggled. “I think I already did.”

next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1114010.html

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When my tablet runs out of battery…

…I write long-hand.

This comes after Acquiring Students and is the beginning of a series of character-establishing notes/stories/ficlets.

Click to enbiggen.

next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1113482.html

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Acquiring Students, a ficlet of Cya/Doomsday

This is set a little over a decade before Cya Keeps Leo. Well, the end bit is a decade-plus; the ‘finding’ parts are earlier.

There were things Cya looked for when doing student recruitment.

She looked for slaves she could justifiably rescue, children born into slavery that would Change if given the right environment and would thrive or at least survive at Doomsday. She looked for children that would need rescue, kids that were living in fae-unfriendly places that risked being slaughtered when – or if – they Changed.

She looked for post-Addergoole conceived children born to Addergoole students, “third kids”, they called them.

She looked for children with unusual powers – her own power, which showed up immensely rarely; teleportation, which was uncommon and very useful in this post-collapse world; mind control, which was thankfully rare and required careful handling; telepathy, although she had only found one of those in all the years she’d been doing this.

She also looked for kids who were the right age, whose parents were fae or Faded, who could make it to Doomsday or who could accept her help moving to Doomsday.

And in all cases, she started looking for kids who were much younger than Doomsday age. She wanted to be sure that the parents knew about the school in time to make a decision.

Sometimes she found them early. Sometimes she didn’t find them until it was almost too late. She hadn’t figured out the patterns yet.

Sunny, she found when she was five, running around the family ranch doing child-sized errands while carting three kittens in the kangaroo-pouch of her jacket.

Kerr, she found three days before school, working in a landfill mine on a chain gang with twenty other children. She set her jaw and made a note to come back soon to deal with the slave-owner.

And Aron she had to keep finding; his family-group kept moving around. But she convinced his mother the same way she’d convinced Sunny’s family – with shameless bribery.

There were others that year, children from as far as her teleporter could reach, and one she’d made him make three jumps to reach. It was a full year of twelve, and, considering the mix, Cya quietly gave Ascha a raise.

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1113172.html

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Bonus Post: oro’cy’Sweetflower

This story is from March; I wrote it but couldn’t quote get it to work out quite the way I liked it, so I wrote something else. But here it is: a glimpse at a test-Keeping in Doomsday Academy.

The collar was new and stiff-feeling, even though Enguerrand knew that there was supposed to be a Working on it to soften it. He tugged on it anyway. “Are you sure I’m going to be welcome?”

Faris draped an arm around Enguerrand’s shoulders. “Certain. For one, any plus-one is welcome at a cy’Sweetflower party, and for another, you’re mine, remember? Anywhere I can go, you can go.”

“I’m new to this,” Enguerrand reminded his Keeper nervously. “You did your own test-Keeping last year. This is my first time.”

read on…

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Second Thoughts, Third Thoughts – A Patreon Story

A story of going-to-Doomsday-Academy

“Here we are.” Adelaide looked at her three children, then looked back at the gate in front of them. She stole another glance at her kids and sighed.

Ameera had gone to Addergoole two years ago. This would be her third year there, and she looked both worried and eager. Lorccán was going this year. He looked eager. He didn’t really know what he was getting into.

But first, they were going to Doomsday. She wasn’t sure if she was going to tell Addergoole about her third child – and Doomsday started years earlier than Addergoole, anyway. Continue reading

Second Thoughts, Third Thoughts – a story of Doomsday posted on Patreon

A story of going-to-Doomsday-Academy

“Here we are.” Adelaide looked at her three children, then looked back at the gate in front of them. She stole another glance at her kids and sighed.

Ameera had gone to Addergoole two years ago. This would be her third year there, and she looked both worried and eager. Lorccán was going this year. He looked eager. He didn’t really know what he was getting into.

But first, they were going to Doomsday…

(read on – free for everyone to read)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1076000.html. You can comment here or there.

(Sha-la-la-la-la-la) Don’t be scared, a ficlet of Doomsday Academy

She’d been doing well enough at hiding for so long. It seemed unfair.

Ruth had been at Doomsday for five years and was working on her sixth when the “transfer student” arrived.

Everyone else seemed to have seen the new girl before Ruth did. She heard the whispers in her first-hour class, straight-out speculation by third hour, and brand new rumors by lunchtime.

It wasn’t until her last class that she saw her, though. Tall and lovely, dark skin and full lips and little horns sticking out through her long dark hair. Tófa. Ruth smiled and shook her hand, bowed and welcomed her to Doomsday. Those were the polite things to do. Those were the right things to do. Not… not what she wanted to do.

Doomsday had been an adjustment for her, right from the first. There were fae everywhere, tolerated and – more than tolerated – accepted. The woman who ran the school was a fae! Almost all their teachers were fae! Her mother – who had moved to Cloverleaf to be near Ruth – had told her to “be patient, and all will be revealed in the fullness of time.”

…and the fullness of Tófa’s lips…. no. No.

Doomsday was far more open than her home, as was Cloverleaf. Her mother seemed to adjust quickly to the permissive culture: The women and men working in the same spaces, the lack of chaperons or morality-guardians or even just priests. Ruth had felt quietly ashamed for weeks as she learned she not only would have classes with boys – and taught by male teachers, male FAE! – but that she would dorm with them, in the same big room.

But it wasn’t boys that were the problem. If the morality-guardians knew what she was thinking now…

Her own Change, painful and slow and butterfly-beautiful, had not been so shattering as the thoughts she had kept quietly to herself. She knew she was wrong, but it didn’t feel wrong. She couldn’t go home again anyway, not like this. Not fae. She wasn’t sure she would choose to go back to the priests and the chaperons, even if she didn’t look like the demons in their books.

And if she was never going home, the morality-guardians and their nightsticks would never be a problem. And her mother… her mother was becoming far more tolerant, living in Coverleaf, than Ruth had ever thought possible.

But her teachers, her peers… Ruth swallowed and looked around. They allowed so much, but would they allow…. would they truly allow her…

“Well, what are you waitin’ for?” Professor Sweetflower leaned over Ruth, whispering in her ear. “Kiss the girl, darlin’.”

Doomsday is part of Fae Apoc and has a landing page here. Ruth and Tófa are new characters.

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Angelic Visitation

This comes after The Storm Prince of Death and @inspectrCaracal’s response here. It is set in the Fae Apoc, at least 60 years after the 2011 apocalypse.  Yoshi is the son of Cynara, often mentioned.  

Yoshi loved his parents, he really did, but sometimes he just needed to get out into the world and get away from them. The same was true of Dáirine, with whom he had a strange sort of on-again, on-again relationship that neither of them quite understood.

To get away, he’d taken to wandering the world — a family trait, it seemed. There was a lot of world out there to see; Yoshi had a feeling that he could travel for a century and not see half of it. But he made a point of checking in every year or so. There was nothing more embarrassing than having your mother appear out of nowhere because you hadn’t remembered to visit.

It was on the way back “home” — to Cloverleaf, which had never been home but was the place his family lived — that Yoshi encountered the little village. It was friendly to a passing stranger, something not all towns would do in this rough age, but their friendliness had a cautious edge to it. Continue reading

Sweetbriar’s Escape, a story of Doomsday Academy

Sweetbriar can be found here and in Austin’s stories. She’s Cya & Leo’s grandkid by Viðrou and Ce’Rilla (‘Rilla in the DW icon), thus also Orlaith’s granddaughter.

Set about 5 years into Doomsday.

Sweetbriar had been at school for less than a month when she first snuck out.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t having fun — she was having a blast, and even the boys in her class were all right (especially Austin, who was going to be a Samurai, kind of like Grandpa Leo). It wasn’t even that she didn’t like the school, or her dorm, or her classes. She liked to call her bunk her ship, and her ship was the most lovely piece of furniture she’d ever seen outside of the Tree.

The thing was — and it really was the only thing — she had grown up in the Forest, a woods so big she had, as a kid, thought it had no end. And now she was living in Cloverleaf, a city so small that the entire thing was surrounded by walls, living in a house with thirty other students, and enclosed the entire time by stone and brick.

Slipping out was easy; the walls around Doomsday were barely walls at all. She waited until Miss Ascha was distracted by something Austin was doing – Miss Ascha was often distracted by Austin; it was like he was made to be distracting – and strolled away casually. She didn’t break into a run until she was on the other side of the classroom buildings.

There was a park not that far away. It wasn’t anything on the Forest, of course, but it had trees, trees big enough to climb up into, being enough to get lost in.

Sweetbriar climbed up into the biggest one. She relished every foot of the challenging climb; the tree had no branches low to the ground, and its trunk was too wide to wrap her arms or legs around. She’d climbed harder, though. And when she got up high enough, onto a long, almost-level branch big enough to sit on, it was worth the effort. She could barely see the ground, and, more importantly, she couldn’t see the walls at all. For the first time since she’d come to Cloverleaf, Sweetbriar felt right.

Grandma Cya found her a while later, long enough that Sweetbriar was starting to get restless. “It’s time to go home now,” she said – Grandma Principal Cya Doomsday, and that was definitely her Principal Doomsday voice. “Next time, ask a teacher to bring you.”

“Does that mean I’m not in trouble?” Getting down was a lot easier than getting up had been.

Her grandmother smirked at her. “Of course it doesn’t. It means I’m telling you how to not get in trouble next time. And that, believe me, is something you’re going to need.”

Sweetbriar flexed her fingers, feeling the scrapes and the happy muscle aches. Being in trouble — that was a lot like home, too. “Yes, Principal Grandma.” It might be useful to know how to get into trouble, too.

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