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The Cup, Part V

Oct14


After The Cup and The Cup, Part II, and The Cup Part III, and The Cup, Part IV, in that Order

They drove North.

The drove quickly out of the immediate reach of Boom – the Ranch; the shantytown that had built up around it and, slowly but efficiently, turned into a small city; the two the Ranch had originally been built near.

It got bigger every time Pellinore visited; when he’d first come by, soon after the end of the world, it had looked like nothing more than a sad collection of terrified refugees, and Boom trying to hold them all together. Now it could be a nation-state, if Boom had interest in ruling anything at all.

In Boom’s immediate reach, the roads were smooth and likely in better repair than they had been before the Gods War. Pellinore knew the minute they passed out of the territory, because the highway became one solid pothole from shoulder to shoulder.

“Can the van…” He shut up halfway through the sentence. For one, it risked him biting his tongue off. For another, it was Cynara’s van. It could handle potholes.

“Yes.” She answered anyway. She had a habit of doing that.

“Good.” He braced himself a little better in his seat.

He couldn’t help glancing back at his son. His son, and a complete stranger to him.

John-Wayne shrugged back at him, as if saying she does that. Like the only thing they had in common was Cynara.

Well, it kind of was. Pellinore looked back at the road…

“Watch out!” That wasn’t a pothole. That was a hole that could swallow a small country, and definitely could eat a large van.

He’d no sooner shouted those words than he remembered he had better words to use, and that he could use them with impunity. He didn’t wear her damn collar any more. “Tempero Unutu, Meentik Eperu, Meentik Unutu δρόμος, δρόμος, δρόμος.” He spat the Words out, controlling the surface of the road down into something smooth and safe, pushing earth under it to hold it up, and then making more road. “Tempero Unutu δρόμος.” More road. Please, more road. “Jasfe Unutu δρόμος.”

He lay back in his chair, panting, as the road knit itself back together under the still-moving-forward tires of Cynara’s van.

“Good job.”

“Thanks.” For a moment, he missed the warm rush that the praise would have given him, back when he was hers.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/578917.html. You can comment here or there.

Character Notes for Nano (for Shahin)

Oct10

Shahin Laskaris, sh’Chloe
16 years old
Female

Appearance:
Shahin has dark brown hair that is not quite as jet-black as she would like. Her skin is never-sees-the-sun pale, and powdered even paler; her features, despite her white skin, are the Lebanese of her father’s ancestry, especially her nose.

She’s short and slender, 5’4″ tall and with a very slight build. She tends toward goth fashion, especially EGL (Elegant Gothic Lolita); the black clothing and dark lipstick and eye makeup accentuate her pale skin. Her wrists are always covered.

She’s often referred to as a troubled child, or sometimes as just a trouble child. She revels in her role as a freak in her current public school, and much of her day-to-day clothing is designed to accentuate that. She doesn’t have many friends back in her public school, and is used to being alone, but does prefer having a few people around now and then.

Character arc notes”
Book one is about Shahin learning She’s Not All that, and that there are bigger freaks in the world than her. It’s about her learning that friends are a thing, for good and bad.

Book two is about her learning exactly how much there are bigger freaks, and how much she is Not All That, which should be very uncomfortable for her. She likes her facade. She understand how it works.

Template in this and previous post via Cluudle

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/577614.html. You can comment here or there.

The Cup Part IV

Oct10


After The Cup and The Cup, Part II, and The Cup Part III, in that Order

The maps had been studied, and then studied some more. They had transcribed all of Pellinore’s notes onto places on the map; John-Wayne had had some surprising insights. She forgot, sometimes, that her Kept were usually very bright young men. It was the young, really, especially now that they were younger than her sons.

The bags had been packed, the wagon loaded with everything they might need (within reason. She was learning to pack within reason; that was an interesting lesson), and the crew had been informed where she was going (as much as she knew) and how long she expected to be gone. She’d kissed Gaheris and Howard and hugged everyone else, and now she stood on the front of the wagon, and pulled.

Her power had evolved over the years, from age and experience and near-constant use. Asking it simply, Where is the elder Grigori called The Archive was almost an insult to its nuance.

But that’s what she asked, because that was what she needed at the moment. The Hawthorn Cup itself could not be found with magic, or, at least, not without more information. Her first three tries had found them… well, hawthorn cups. Not quite the same thing at all.

Her power came back with an answer, of course. North. North and Up.

Up? North first, the northern pull was stronger. “We go that way.” She pointed the direction, and Pellinore guided the team of horses down the road.

“What if the Grigori doesn’t want to talk to us?” John-Wayne was far less into this quest than his father; no big surprise there.

“Then we ask very nicely.” Cynara smiled, and noticed that both of the men shuddered.

Well, she supposed, they had reason to know her.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/576944.html. You can comment here or there.

On This Date: Addergoole Drabbles of Aviv

Oct10

October 10, 2004

“Do you ever get the sense that all this is futile?” Rod, Aviv’s house-mate, had the hunch-shouldered look that generally went along with depression or hangovers.

“School?” Aviv finished packing lunch.

“Everything.” It was accompanied by a dramatic hand-flail.

“No.” He couldn’t help smiling. “Maybe you should have gone into medicine, not Law.”

October 10, 2013

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

Aviv had his hand on someone’s artery, keeping them from bleeding out. He didn’t look up.

“I’m a doctor connected to the Red Cross, yes. Could you pass me that clamp?”

“You one of them.

Aviv had just enough to duck before the stick swung.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/576606.html. You can comment here or there.

Nyyrikki, Her First Year

Oct9

Ninth in a series of character-building vignettes following a bunch of characters through their time at Addergoole & beyond. One more (maybe) and I move on to Year Two for them all

This is Nyyrikki’s first time in print; Ayuda is the daughter of canon-Original-Series character Joff and background character Liza. Pandora is Liza’s daughter with canon-Original-Series character Rafe.

Nyyrikki, Her First Year
Addergoole Year 21: September of 2015

She could tell her other classmates were primarily from wastelands. Things that were basic to her were startling to them – power, running water, fresh food.

She’d known people were still alive out there. A few people here and there, she’d been told. She’d seen the traders, talking about a couple other enclaves.

She’d really thought that’s where the rest of humanity – the parts that survived the fae wars – lived. In enclaves like hers, places where there was still a vestige of the modern world.

She’d been eleven years old when the gods came back; it stood to reason that her classmates had been about the same age. And they were looking around as if 2011 was the last time they’d seen an electric light.

After three days of trying to figure it out, Nyyrikki asked Ayuda. The slender blonde girl was in a lot of ‘Rikki’s classes, although she was clearly struggling with the material.

“What was it like, where you were?”

“After the Fae War, you mean?” Ayuda rubbed her arms. “We were living in Philly, Mom and I and my sister, and Mom’s… boyfriend. And the roof fell in. Pandora and I got out, and Mom… mom did, sort of?” Her voice raised up in a squeak. “After that, we were on the run for a few months. Then Pan and I woke up one day and Mom was gone.” Her shoulders twitched in something that was probably meant to be a shrug; it looked like a spasm. “That was pretty much what it was like.”

“Oh, oh…” There weren’t words.

“What about where you were?”

“Oh, it was a place.” She didn’t ask about people’s lives, after that, and she never talked about home. It just seemed disrespectful.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/576269.html. You can comment here or there.

On this Date: Addergoole Drabbles of Anatoliy

Oct7

October 7, 2004

“Sorry, no.”

It wasn’t the most interesting job in the world. There were probably a hundred more interesting jobs – including his daytime job. But his boss and the union didn’t care if he moonlighted.

“The girl said no, back off.”

And he got to protect people. Totally worth it.

October 7, 2013

“Keep calm. Everyone, stay calm, and keep moving.”

He’d gotten the call from Smitty last week. The week before, it had been Finn. And Vlad a month before that.

“Keep calm. Keep moving, calmly off the road and into the shelters, everyone.”

It had been Conrad’s call that did it.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/575976.html. You can comment here or there.

One Year Ago / The Cup Part III

Oct4

One year ago today…. well, I wasn’t writing, or at least not posting anything, so I went back a few more days.

Pellinore has appeared in June Again,, Boom, amd Visit From School, and was referenced in Legacy, where JohnWayne showed up.

After The Cup and The Cup, Part II, in that Order


Year 32 of the Addergoole School – at The Ranch
15 years after the beginning of the end of the world; late 2026

Cynara knew she had a reputation for always expecting everything; she liked that reputation, and her habit of preparing for everything made it an easy one to maintain.

She’d planned for Pellinore showing up; she had plans for “former Kept at the door” and plans for “parent of my current Kept showing up” and juxtaposing them hadn’t been hard.

The Grail. That she didn’t have a plan for. General Contingency Plan Three would have to do.

“All right.” She cleared a place on the kitchen table. “Come on, Pellinore. Give me what you’ve got, and we’ll go from there. JohnWayne, go get the maps.”

“…all of them?”

“Ha, no. Get me a blank map of the region, likewise one of the country, one of the continent, and one of the world.” She still thought of it as the country. She wondered if she’d ever stop. “You know where they are, right?”

“Top drawer of the map case.” The boy darted off, leaving Cya and Pellinore to share a glance.

“Was I ever that young?” He pitched his voice quiet; sometimes in the last couple decades he’d learned tact.

“We all were. Notes?”

“Coming.” He dumped his Backpack on a kitchen chair and pulled out a ziplock-bag-encased spiral notebook. “There’s a lot of contradictory rumors and whispers, and lot of ‘if you ask the elder Grigori so-and-so,’ but a lot of the old ones…”

“Yeah. Either died or went into hiding during the war. It’s a place to start, at least.” She held out her hand for the notebook.

It had been a generation since she Kept him. They both paused, just for a heartbeat, and then he obeyed the unspoken command.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/575363.html. You can comment here or there.

On this Date: Addergoole Drabbles of Jamian

Oct3

October 3, 2004

“Give me… four years.” Arnbjorg and Jaya were studiously avoiding each other’s glances, holding their mocha lattes and watching the steam. “Four years, until I’m done with school. I know, the extra year…”

“I can wait for another year. Especially with the kids.”

“I’ll know by then.”

“I hope so.”

October 3, 2013

“Xandro, we have to go.” Jamian handed another duffle to his oldest child. “Here, Dom. Food, clothes.”

“Dadimom…”

“Jame’…”

Dom and Xandro’s objections rode over each other; they both stopped; Jamian sighed. He tried again. “Xandro. Bathroom. Dom. Food. It’s not safe anymore.”

It might not ever be safe again.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/574971.html. You can comment here or there.

I really am Writing, mark one:

Oct3

“…He needs someone to protect him.”

“And you think that that should be me?”

“I think it probably shouldn’t be me. And you need someone who isn’t me.”

“You don’t get to decide what I need anymore.”

From Kuro_Neko’s commissioned continuation of the Ceinwen-and-Thorburn-in-Year10 story

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/574506.html. You can comment here or there.

A thing with ribbons, a drabble of Addergoole, Yr??

Sep27

“There’s an art to this.” She had her hands full of ribbons, red and blue and green and black. It was the only thing on her body, except the high-heeled shoes.

“An art?” He lay sprawled across the bed, watching her. He liked watching her; his eyes tracked the sway of her ass, the way the ribbons trailed across her breasts, the way one foot moved in front of the other. She, on the other hand, wasn’t looking at him. She didn’t, often, never had, really.

“An art. A craft, if you will, a skill, a decoration.”

“I don’t want to be decorated.” Her hands were obscured by the ribbons; he couldn’t see what she was taking out of the dresser. “What are you doing?”

“Most arts have their tools.”

“Tools? Not just the ribbons?” Those ribbons trailed down her back lie curls of hair, although her hair was now cropped short, baring her neck. Once, he’d watched the black-blue locks make little s-curves across her spine. Now he tried for a look at her hands, only to be foiled again and again by the turn of her hip, the drapes of the ribbons.

“Of course not. Don’t… that would be silly.” She twisted one arm behind her back, just as she pivoted on her heel to face him. She was smiling. He wasn’t used to her face with a smile on it. He wasn’t used to the way it lit her up, the way it hitched something deep in his throat.

“I’m not silly.” He frowned at her over the thumping of his heart. “I want to know what you’re doing.”

“We all have wants.” She crossed the distance between them, too fast, far too fast for her short legs. “Do you want to know what I want?”

The ribbons draping off of her breasts were nearly touching him. He swallowed and tried anyway. “Do you want to know what I want?”

“Of course.” She smirked at him, as if she knew it wasn’t the answer he’d expected. “And do you?”

It was a test, wasn’t it? “Yes?”

“Well, then.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/573996.html. You can comment here or there.