Archives

A story featuring a male Keeper and a female Kept, post apoc Fae Apoc… Things.

Apr2

Landing Page – Next

The slave market was exhausting. Mélanie felt like she was in a constant state of panic, twitching at everyone who walked by and shivery when she wasn’t twitching. Someone was going to buy her. And if they didn’t buy her, she was going to be punished again. She’d been on short rations to save money since the last slave market, since she’d been cowering in the corner and hiding from everyone who walked by.

This time, she was chained so she couldn’t hide, and she’d been told if she hid anyway, she’d be beaten. They hadn’t beaten her yet, and she didn’t want to find out what it was like. So she smiled cautiously at everyone who walked by and tried not to look nearly as terrified as she felt.

“A little skittish, isn’t this one?” The voice, in other circumstances, might have been pleasant. In this situation, it made her lift her chin just a tiny bit and hope that she looked pleasant and buyable and not nervous or intractable.

“Oh, she’s just eager to get out of the cage and serve someone. You know how they can be.” The slave factor’s voice had too much forced cheer in it. Mélanie took a step forward – a half-step, as that was all the chains allowed for – and smiled hopefully. Maybe it would be enough.

“She looks scared out of her mind. I can’t be that frightening, can I?”

“A new situation is always a little nerve-wracking, isn’t it, sir?” There was so much oil laid onto the factor’s tone that it had to be giving the customer pimples. Mélanie certainly felt like it was making her break out.

“Bring her out here. I want to see her before I make my decision.”

“But sir…”

“Oh, if she’s eager to be bought, she won’t make a run for it, will she? And if she’s not, well, I’d rather know before I brought her home. Bring her out here.” The customer’s voice was implacable. Mélanie couldn’t quite hide a shiver.

“Fine.” The slave factor was sulking. He opened the cage and unhooked three of the chains holding Mélanie in place before tugging her outward.

She wasn’t going to run, of course; she had nowhere at all to run. But the slave factor couldn’t know that, and neither could this guy.

His shoes looked well-kept for. He – or someone who worked for him – had oiled them, so even though they were worn, they looked good. His pants were hemmed with no ragged lines. Not jeans, but something like denim.

She kept her eyes on those shoes and those hems. It was safer that way.

“She’s underfed.”

“Aren’t we all, these days?” The slave factor patted what had once been a fat belly. “Aren’t we all.”

“And shivering.”

“Well, she’s eager, sir.”

“And freezing. I’ll take her. But for the price you’re asking, you’re throwing in that jacket you’re wearing. It doesn’t suit you anyway.”

“My jacket?” The slave factor took a step backwards. “This is mine!”

“And she’s going to be mine, and a large portion of my trade goods are going to be yours, and you’re going to give me the coat. Now.”

Something in his voice brooked no argument. Something in his voice, Mélanie noted from a distant place in her mind, was terrifying.

She wasn’t listening to that place. She was paying attention as the slave factor, bitching and whining the whole time, put his jacket around her shoulders and even held it for her to get her arms in. It smelled faintly of tobacco and, strangely, not of anything worse. It almost smelled clean.

“There. Now. I’m going to pay you forty pounds of trade goods. And she’s mine?”

“By the terms of that agreement, this slave is yours. You’re his now.” The factor gave her a little shove.
Mélanie shook her head, trying to clear the sudden strange feelings as ownership transferred. The new man caught her by the wrists. “Mine,” he repeated quietly. “Let’s get you into that wagon and pay for you, shall we? Don’t run off,” he added, his voice so quiet she thought maybe he meant the order to be a secret. “Stay within sight of me if you can. I want to get us out of here.”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded politely at the man and didn’t even try to pull away. “Where are we going, sir… in case I lose sight of you?”

“My cart is on the far side of here, the east side, just outside the gate. Now, can you hold your head up and not look like you just got bought?”

“I – yes.” She shifted her shoulders and thought about better times, lifted her head up and pulled on a smile a much earlier incarnation of herself might have worn. She was proud. She was with someone she was happy to be with. She was clothed and her main item of clothing was even mostly clean. She could be proud for a bit.

Landing Page – Next

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1296269.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Finding a Doctor

Apr1

This is in Lady/Sword timeline, and is after everything posted to date. Leo needs some help… Cya Finds it.

“I don’t like this place.” Isra looked both ways and frowned. “There’s something… wrong here.”

“I know.” Cya murmured. “It’s almost Stepford, isn’t it?”

“Like that movie… those movies?” Isra frowned. She’d gone to Doomsday; she’d gotten used to Cya’s references to things that had happened before the world ended, but sometimes it still seemed to throw her.

“Just stay close and be ready to go in a hurry.”

She didn’t really need to tell Isra that. The place was creepy. It was clean, everything crisp, the wall surrounding the town looking more like a suggestion than a wall until you realized that it was topped by three lines of electrical fence.

She had up heavy-duty “we’re not out of place” Mind Workings, and she didn’t think they’d be enough if they were here too long. Luckily – well, planning, not luck – they’d shown up in their target’s front yard.

Cya rang the doorbell. Isra shifted from foot to foot.

The woman that answered the doorbell looked, Cya noticed first, old. She seemed to be in her late 80’s by a pre-apocalypse judge of age, a thin woman with medium-brown skin that seemed fragile and tissue-like and a short halo of curly white hair.

“Ma’am? Doctor?” Cya already had a Working up that projected her voice only in a thin line to exactly where she wanted it to. “I’m hoping you might be willing to come with us. My friend desperately needs a therapist… one who can understand him…. and I have a feeling you might want a new place to live. We’re from Cloverleaf,” she added, and because they had traveled quite a ways to get here, “a small city in what was once Montana, in the – well, it was the US a long time ago.”

The woman stared at them with eyes that were very sharp before nodded crisply. “You’d best come in – if you have no intention of harming me.” She ushered them into her home and closed the door.

Inside, the cottage was as antiseptic and unreal as on the outside. “Is this the friend?” the woman asked. “I’m Billie Rexinger, by the by. Dr. Bilyana Rexinger, Planting-Hands.” She looked down at her shaking hands and frowned. “That was a long time ago.”

“I’m Cya Dayton, Red Doomsday.” She hadn’t used that last name in a long time. Maybe she should steal Leo’s…. no, probably not. “This is Isra, Moonlight, Moondance.” Dr. Rexinger hadn’t been the first one by a long shot to assume he applied to the long, lean Isra with her tight-queued hair and her businesslike clothes which obscured sparse curves. “She’s not the one who needs help, no. My friend, my crewmate, Leofric Lightning-Blade, he…” She sighed. “A long time ago, we were both hurt by our Keepings, by our Keepers.” It had taken her most of that long time to admit it had been both of them. “His… shattered his mind. He was delusional for a long time.”

“But not now.” Dr. Rexinger might look ancient, but her mind was sharp.

Cya reminded herself that she, herself, would look older than this woman if she Masked at her calendar age. “But not now,” she answered carefully. “He fought himself back to himself some time ago. But recently..” She winced. “Recently, we’ve been working on his self-esteem and other issues. I’m a fairly good mind-healer,” she admitted. “I’ve had a lot of practice. But – I told him something that, ah. It broke some of his belief foundation that I didn’t realize was still holding him up. Some ways he’d dealt with being Kept and being abused. And..” She swallowed. “I can Find anything. So I went looking for what he needed to put himself back together.”

The woman was still listening. Cya had a feeling she had practiced that listening face a lot. It was calming, encouraging, and rather impressive. Cya wasn’t sure she liked it being used on herself.

This visit wasn’t about her.

“What he needs is therapy, someone to listen. Someone to help him sort it out. And I, I’m too close to it. I was there for the whole mess. I was there through everything. I hate the woman who hurt him, and I can’t… I can’t hold back enough to help him.”

She hated that. There weren’t words for how badly she hated it. But it was the truth, and right now the truth was important.

She cleared her throat. “What I’m offering is a home, a proper house, in Cloverleaf, which is a settlement -”

“I’ve heard of Cloverleaf,” the doctor cut her off.

“Oh!” Cya ducked her head. “This far away? Well. A house in Cloverleaf as least as big as this one,” she looked around, “with a yard. A stipend while you treat Leo, and a smaller stipend for ten years after that. References to other people who might need your services, and help finding anything you need for relocation. And,” she looked around. “I offer quick and immediate relocation, via Isra, who walks the shadows.”

Isra bowed. She liked it when Cya was melodramatic about her titles.

“You care very strongly about this Leo.”

“He’s my crew. He’s the most important person in my life after my children – and my children are all grown and gone.” It was that simple. It was always that simple.

“Will he cooperate?” The doctor was already opening up a bag and moving things into it. “There’s a wine crate in the kitchen. I like the pans, and there’s food that’s still good in there.”

“He swore to obey me,” Cya murmured. “That’ll get you past the first visit. After that is up to you.”

“Well then.” The doctor nodded. “Twenty minutes, ten if you and your moon-dancer help. And then I can see this Cloverleaf for myself.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1295632.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

For Cal: Is He…?

Mar31

For Cal: This comes after a number of things, including Jeska and Carew wandering around the city talking, Convincing each other to tell their Keepers that they were jealous of… (in Carew’s case, Leo, and Jeska’s case, the cat)… and Carew doing some thinking. Sword/Lady timeline

She hadn’t been angry with him.

Carew wasn’t sure if it was the long talk with Jeska or the fact he was pretty sure Leo – sa’Lightning Blade – was probably still mad at him – but he’d really been expecting Cya to be angry with him. Punish him, even.

(Even if his punishment would probably have Jeska rolling his eyes and very politely suggesting it wasn’t punishment at all.)

But now that he knew she wasn’t angry… now he had something else to ask.

And she was distracted, doing paperwork, frowning at something. Not the best time to ask questions.

He cleared his throat. “Cya? Ma’am?”

She put down the ledger she’d been working in and gave him a smile that looked about half worried and half affectionate. He’d told her he was jealous of sa’Lightning Blade, and she’d told him she’d pay more attention to him. That wasn’t how it was supposed to work! That wasn’t – well, it wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but it was the only way to get Jeska to agree to talk to Leo about feeling second-place to the cat, which really had to happen.

Are we friends? Jeska had asked, and, well, if they were friends, friends looked after each other. Even if…

“What’s up, Carew?”

Sometimes she talked like she was out of one of the movies she liked to watch, pre-War things that made no sense at all to Carew but made her laugh and cry with no rhyme or reason that he could see.

He cleared his throat What’s up meant what’s on your mind?

“Ma’am, is sa’Lightnin – is Jeska a Nedetaka?”

“Why do you ask?”

Why do you ask wasn’t no, it was show your work. “Well, for one, he talks about ‘Shenera Endraae’ things ​​like they’re unfamiliar to him. He grew up being taught that what he wanted was irrelevant, that half-breeds are impure, and I’m pretty sure that humans are useless. His idea of punishment is – I’m not sure, but it sounds bad. And, um. He’s not an Addergoole grad, he’s a decade older than I am – he thinks – and he’s twitchy like he just got out of a bad Keeping. And his crew whipped him.”

He watched her eyebrows go up as he ticked off points. When he ran out of things, she nodded slowly.

“We – no. Leo. Leo stole him from a Nedetakaei camp. I found him someone willing, and he got him out of there – although he hasn’t been forthcoming with the details. So yes, Jeska wwas raised and Named Nedetaka. Now Leo has him.”

Carew considered that. He considered the way Cya’s eyes were on him. Judging him, he thought. She did a lot of that.

He cleared his throat. “He asked me if we were friends.”

“And are you?”

“…Yeah. Yeah, we are.” He lifted his chin. It was worth getting punished for, to have a friend, to be Jeska’s friend.

She kissed his cheek. “Good. I’m glad. I think that’ll be good.”

Carew relaxed as she looked back to her paperwork, more confused than ever.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1295141.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Cya, Leo, and Boom – untangling the timelines

Mar31

So, it turns out, when you get [personal profile] inventrix and I together, what you end up with is a whole lot of different timelines for the same characters.

This is as comprehensive as I can come up with a list of Cya-Leo-Boom timelines we might have posted stories for.

[personal profile] inventrix, if I’ve missed something, misrepresented something, or mislaid something, please let me know!

It appears that the turning points are:

1) When Leo (and thus Cya) gets sane. In canon, and in timelines that could be canon, that happens after Cya builds Cloverleaf, which itself is ~40 years after they attend Addergoole (see Ghost Story).
2) Whether Cya Keeps Leo or he swears an oath of obedience and service to her.
3) If/When they come to the realization that what Cya wants from Leo is not what Leo can provide

“Cya cried,” he says, a little too matter of fact, “because she’s accepted I’m not going to love her back.”
“…The fuck you say?”
“Not the way she wants, at least.”
…
“So, the basics are simple enough, you’ve got me,” he holds out one hand, “and Cya,” he holds out the other, “and we both care about each other way too much. The problem is, Cya has like a tragic romance thing going on because she wants me to be in love with her back, but like… whatever the hell I feel, it’s not that, and I don’t care what that stupid kid says,” he adds in an annoyed mutter, “I’m not going to go pretending to feel something I don’t when it’s just going to fuck everything up in the end and it’s none of his fucking business anyway.”
Leo pauses and clears his throat a little awkwardly. “…anyway, so. Her side, nice, fairly straightforward, normal romantic obsession. My side, some kind of weird martyr Kept knight thing. Which would be fine except like, the one thing Cya wants more than anything in pretty much the whole world is to be attached to just one guy who will actually, you know, love her back? You’d think after–” He stops himself from tangenting this time. “So since I’m obviously not that guy, I talked her into trying dating so she’s at least meeting people who aren’t fresh Addergoole grad Kept with issues.”

4) Whether they all flip the F out and kill everyone their first year.

Is Absolutely Canon
Addergoole: Year Nine
Addergoole: A Ghost Story

Probably Canon
That story about Cya ordering Leo not to die.

Could be Canon but aren’t Yet.
The Sword and Lady Timeline — this includes most of the currently-posted stuff on DW/LJ, where Leo gets punched by Carew, Luke tries to apologize to Mike, etc.

The Thistle Timeline — hey, it couldtotally fit within canon! This is the one in which Cya dies but resurrects(reincarnates) and Leo has to cope with all of that while Thistle-Cya copes with being 10 years old with memories of a 100-year-old in love with Leo.
I’d just re-read Thief of Time.

Definitely Not Canon
Sane!Cya Timeline — I think the only thing posted of this is something called “Sane!Cya and Panlong,” in which the man who unwittingly participated in Cya’s son Yoshi’s torment as a Kept, Panlong, actually doesn’t end up getting TOO horrid of a deal…
This is the timeline where Leo has a psychotic break after Cya locks him in the barn (this is a fixed moment in time) and comes out the other side sane.

Black Knight/Chess Timeline — In which Leo gets an army, starts taking over the West Coast, and achieves godhead. Also in which Luke ends up Kept by Cya, flappy wing bongage, and such things.

Expelled Timeline — in which we’re not entirely sure what happened but Boom gets expelled in their first year, their memories wiped, and sent home, or in Cya’s case, to a foster home.

Leo Dies — in which we misread Inventrix’s rp, Leo suicides, Cya tries to blow up the earth with Abatu Eperu (destroy Earth), and in the end Howard talks her down and she and Zita heal Leo’s body, find his soul, and shove it back in.
Cya feels strongly about Leo dying, okay? 🙂

Fixed Moments in Time
These happen in pretty much everything but Expelled

  • The Ranch: As the end of the world looms, all of Boom, their kids, and their closest allies (and some allies’ kids) go to live on a ranch in wyoming and slowly take over the territory.
  • Cya Locks Leo in a Barn: She has a cell for such things, because Cya believes in being prepared. So when delusional!Leo decides he’s going to leave them all so he can go fight monsters and probably die but they’ll survive, the crew tracks him down, literally force him into the van, and tie him up in the cell until he promises not to do that
  • Cloverleaf and Doomsday: Cya gets sick of putting Addergoole people back together after the fact and builds her own school in what was once Montana. Because she’s like that, she also builds a city around it. And then starts trade routes. And then…

I might add links later. I might bribe people to add tags to things later – I’m totally willing to do that! But for the nonce, this is what I’ve got.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1293966.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Assumptions (Cya, Carrew, Lady/Sword Timeline)

Mar30

In the Sword and Lady timeline, after
Cya Yells at a Kept which itself followed (but was posted before) Faking it.

“Leo and his Kept are coming over tonight — for dinner and to sleep over.”

Cya said it like she expected it to be nothing, just another day, but her eyes were on Carew and he had no doubt she was gauging his reaction.

She did that, said things without any tone and waited to see what he made of them. Carew still wasn’t sure what he made of that.

“So…” He tried for casual. He almost made it. Leo was still angry at him for the face-punching thing, at least as far as he knew, and, truth be told, he couldn’t blame the guy. It had seemed like a good idea at the time… “Extra lasagna for dinner, then? And I’ll sleep in the guest room — or do you want me to go hang out with Dev?”

Dev was Magnolia’s — not Kept, but might-as-well-be, he called himself her pleasant-revenge lover — and he was just about Carew’s age. They weren’t exactly friends, but they’d been in Addergoole together, the women they lived with were sometimes perplexing, sometimes terrifying, and sometimes wonderful, and they liked the same beers.

“I didn’t say I was kicking you out. It’s a big bed, hon.”

It was. Four of them would probably fill it comfortably. He’d always wondered why she had such a big bed — now, he supposed, he knew. He worked around a lump in his throat and tried to show nothing. “All right, sure. So lasagna?”

“Lasagna’s a good idea. I’ll start on the filling if you start on the noodles.”

He let the companionable working-peace fill the room for a few minutes before coughing. “So, uh, why’s Leo coming over? Over night, I mean. Is that why he’s bringing his Kept?”

“He’s… having a bad week, and I don’t want him left alone.”

“…Oh.”

Lots of stupid things went through Carew’s mind, like Isn’t that what HE has a Kept for? and Is that where you were last night? and If you’re just going to sleep with him — with THEM — what do you need me for? He focused on the noodles and said none of them. It wasn’t his first rodeo.

“What is it?” she asked. Carew swore internally. He didn’t think he’d been showing anything at all.

He cleared his throat and looked away.

Her hand on his shoulder almost made him jump. “It’s okay, Carew. I’d rather know than not know, all right?”

“It’s just… your whole world seems to revolve around him,” he muttered.

“Well… To some degree, yeah. It’s like this, here.”

Here wasn’t an order, but he looked anyway. Her left hand was held out flat at chest-height, marking a level.

“So,” she brought her right hand up, marking a line a little above the left. “There’s my kids. Then crew.” Her right fingers touched her left. “Then Kept—” a little lower on the right, and Carew’s heart did something weird up in his throat “-and then my project, which right now is school,” her hand moved down, “and city,” her hand moved down a bit more. “Except right now, I don’t have any kids in the nest, so,” her left hand moved up a notch, “and Leo’s the only crew in the city with me… So, yeah, my life kind of revolves around him. What?” she asked gently, although Carew had no idea at all what his face was doing. “Haven’t you ever had someone you loved? Or a crew you’d kill for?”

“Yeah…” He worked his throat, fighting with emotions he really, really didn’t want to deal with right now. “Both. But, uh. They were older, and they didn’t come back for me.”

“Well.” She patted his shoulder. “Did you tell them you wanted them to?”

“No, but…” He frowned. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“See, that’s the thing about assumptions. Maybe they assumed you’d come find them. Maybe they got there a few days late.”

“Wouldn’t the school have told them where I was?” He turned back to the lasagne just to have something to do with his hands.

“Well, depends on who they asked, and what mood they were in.” She turned to the food, too, but her eyes were still on him. He could feel them, feel their pressure. “Luke knows, because he’s still not entirely convinced I’m not locking Kept up in a dungeon… non-consensually. But if he told them would depend on if they asked, and if he approves of them, and any number of other factors.”

“Wait.” He put his hands on the counter to steady himself. “You lock Kept up in a dungeon consensually?”

“Well, some of my Kept have been pretty kinky, and so am I and—”

“You never said anything!” He slapped his hands over his mouth, but he’d already said it, and he’d already interrupted her.

Her eyebrows went up. “Now, remember what I was saying about assumptions? And then I went and assumed you weren’t the type. Well.” She patted his ass affectionately. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow night, mm? And this coming weekend, maybe we can talk about Finding your friends and crew.”

Carew swallowed. “Yes, ma’am… thank you, ma’am.” Both of his hands went to his collar. “Thank you, ma’am.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1292989.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Beauty-Beast 7: Sal’s Questions

Mar29

First – Previous – Landing Page – Next

🔒

Ctirad tensed. That… was a bad sign.

Sir stroked the top of his back gently, such that the touch might be missed from the rear-view mirror, if Ctirad had his positioning right.

“What’s your name mean?” Sal sounded completely serious. Ctirad gave the question consideration.

His name wasn’t all that common in America, he knew that. And among fae, the name your father chose to give you was heavy with meaning (sometimes). Of course, he had no idea if Sal was fae or not. He cleared his throat. “Joy and honor, or joy from honor.” It wasn’t a name that brought him any joy anymore, but it was all he had left that was his.

“And what about your Name?”

He knew he went still. He knew his fists clenched. He didn’t try to hide any of it. He was not going to punch the driver in the back of the head, not with his eyes closed, not when Sal was driving. “I don’t have one of those.”

“But you did. You were Named before you were Collared, or someone needs to pay pretty badly.”

“I don’t have one now.” He knew he sounded like murder. He just wondered if he could do it before he was stopped.

“Sal. That’s enough. Allow him his secrets, if he wants them.”

Even though he couldn’t see, Ctirad turned towards Sir’s voice. “Sir?”

“Yes, sir.” Sal sounded, Ctirad thought, irritated. “But you said to ask questions.”

“It was a fine question, and it’s fine that he didn’t want to answer it.” And now Sir sounded irritated. Ctirad tensed.

“Sorry, Ctirad.” Sal didn’t exactly mutter the apology, but it sounded a little abashed and a little embarrassed. Ctirad, on the other part, was entirely surprised.

“Wha-” He shook his head. “It’s fine, Sal. I just don’t want to go back there, ‘cause, well, I can’t go back there, you follow?”

“Pardon me for saying so, but you probably won’t be Kept forever, will you?”

Ctirad swallowed. It didn’t hit with the same pain it would when he’d been under Sir’s collar for any length of time, but there was still an edgy panic to the thought. “If,” he said, carefully and slowly, every word its own individual thought, “I’m ever… ever not Kept… I’ll… make a new Name. Have to. The old one’s burned.”

“Woah.” Sal drew the word out. “I retract the question.”

“Thanks.” He leaned back against the seat, suddenly exhausted. “What next, sir?”

“Well, hrrm. What’s the most important thing you think I should know about you that I don’t already? And what about Sal? What’s the most important thing Sal should know about you?”

Ctirad considered the question for a moment. There were too many ways to answer.

“I’m not tame.”

🔒

First – Previous – Landing Page – Next

Want more?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1292607.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Funeral: Legacies and Unimportant People

Mar27

First: Funeral
Previous: Funeral: Negotiation

The security guards wrapped up with Muirgen and headed back into the lawyer’s office, just as someone in a well-fitted but cheap suit stalked out of the room. Senga watched the man go with curiosity.

“One of Mirabella’s bean-counters,” Silence murmured. “Always thought he was underappreciated. Guess the will hearing justified that.”

“Maybe she threatened his life and reputation too,” Senga responded in the same low term. “Maybe he didn’t appreciate being treated like someone she ‘appreciated’ after all.”

“I’ll note she didn’t do that with her daughters.”

“Neither did she give her daughters diddly. They’re – well. You probably know them better than I do.”

“Ah, but they’re your family. And it’s their mother’s funeral.”

“And they’re on par with Mister cheap suit there,” she added in the same casual, quiet tone. “They don’t get the big things. They’re just not as important as they think they are. Of course, that won’t stop them from killing me,” she added ruefully. “And they’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“‘Cause you’re more important than them?”

“Ha. Hardly. I’m a glorified errand girl and beat-er-upper. Not exactly high on anyone’ totem pole.”

He looked down at her. Senga tensed, ready for the wise-ass remark. She wasn’t short, but, then again, she was neither tall nor that muscular. “You probably do a good stealth attack, don’t you? People aren’t expecting it, and then there you are, sharp and deadly and under their block.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. That was the quickest assessment of her skills she’d gotten since she’d been in training.

He smirked back in return. “Don’t tell me. It wouldn’t do to give away secrets you might need. But old fa – farts, the smart ones, they know that it’s not just brutes like me that have the power. Besides, I’m really good at knowing where metal is.” The last was barely a whisper.

“That’s a useful skill.” One she might actually have a lot of use for, in addition to those times when his looming growly intimidation might come in handy for the team – never mind that they’d specifically avoided hiring a thug because they could do this themselves, damnit; it wasn’t like she was choosing to hire him.

His smile looked tired. “Ah, and so it begins. You may be the white sheep, but you’re a member of your family through and through.”

She wanted to take offense. She was offended. But she lifted her eyebrows and grinned at him, because he’d meant for her to be offended, and she had no time for that bullshit. “Of course I am. Daughter of Aonghus, himself the son of Sláine, who was Mirabella’s sister and, let’s be honest, her better, until they were murdered. I’m more my family than they are, and if they’ve been setting the tone for so long, now, that’s my fault as much as theirs.” She raised her chin and let her smile edge from happy to challenge.

He looked down at her and twitched his own eyebrows. “But you’re not the one she left the ledgers to.”

“Of course not.” She winked at him. “I’m not the one she left the ledgers to.” There was more than one reason for Clause Seven, even if Mirabella had been the only one who knew that.

next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1296520.html

Want More?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1291502.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Permission (More Luke being Awkward with Mike)

Mar27

(this one comes before Luke’s Homework (http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1285682.html) and after Luke Tries to Apologize..

Talking to Mike was somewhere between miserable and awful, but Luke did his best to pretend that nothing had changed. Mike didn’t want his apology; didn’t want to hear about it. Okay. Until he could figure out what he was supposed to say, then, he could pretend like nothing was wrong.

“Stop looming, Birdbrain, you’re going to curdle the paint.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“Neither does you lingering by the door like you’re trying to figure out ‘goth’ decades too late.”

“Thanks,” Luke muttered. “I figured out goth just fine.”

“Really? Now that I have to hear. Not now, though. What brings you here melting the finish on my doorframe?”

Luke actually found himself glancing at the doorframe — no. He was not quite that palpable about his discomfort. “I wanted to know if I could borrow a couple of your Students.”

“Luke, darling, if you want to get laid, there are less stressful ways, you know.”

“NOt for that!” He flapped irritably at Mike, who looked innocently back at him.

“No? I can’t imagine you sleeping with your own Students. ALl boys again this year, aren’t they?”

His wings twitched, but he didn’t let them flap. “Doug like the women warriors.”

“Mmm-hrmm. Quite a bit, from the looks of him & Ana — all right, all right.” Mike put up both hands in mock-surrender. “What do you want to borrow my Students for?”

“Couple things. Wanna ask some people about being Kept.”

“Well, that’s an interesting line of inquisition from you, Hawk.” She pointedly didn’t mention that she’d been Kept, of course.

“Yeah. Been… uh. I’ve been thinking.”

“You said. And I said I’d noticed.” She smirked at him. “So. Questions. And…?”

“And I want to take a field trip, and I want some other points of view.”

“You really have been thinking.”

“I said that.” He pulled his wings in tighter.

“Yeah, but… all right. Yes. As long as they’re willing, you have my permission. Who were you thinking?”

His wings didn’t get any less tight. “Denny.”

“…Denny?” Mike giggled. “Oh, definitely. I’d pay to see that. Do tell me what you learn, won’t you?”

“…of course. Thank you.” Luke fled before his pride could be damaged any further.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1291012.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Beauty-Beast 6: The Driver Weighs In

Mar26

First – Previous – Landing Page – Next

🔒

Sir ran a hand over the side of Ctirad’s hair. Ermenrich had cut it short again, shaved on the sides, military-looking. Ctirad hated it that way – but it wasn’t his hair, any more than when he had been in the military. “So, I trust Sal with my life, with my secrets, and with a good deal of my fortune – and not just in this car, which you can’t see at the moment, but is very expensive. But I assured you that when we weren’t alone, I would not make you answer questions – and while Sal does count as ‘private’ for me, I can’t say the same for you. You follow?”

Oh. “I… follow, sir.” Ctirad swallowed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Easy there, darling. Remember, I said this would be up to you? So. The question is, what do you want to do?”

“With all due respect sir,” he was going to get his ass kicked. He was going to go without food for a week, “that’s a trap. I can’t answer if I don’t know what you want me to want.”

There was a short laugh from the front of the car. “He’s got you there, sir.”

“Not helping, Sal.” Sir sounded a little grumpy. Ctirad worked his jaw and wondered how bad this one was gonna hurt. “Ctirad, it was not intended as a trap, but I understand how it might look that way. Let me put it this way. Are you comfortable with me touching you in front of Sal?”

He didn’t have honesty orders. On the other hand, he couldn’t see Sir’s face to see if his lies were going over well. Ctirad chewed it over. “With my clothes on, sir, yeah. That’s nothing new.”

“That’s not quite the same, but I’ll go with it. Okay. Are you comfortable answering questions in front of Sal?”

“Boss…”

“It’s a long drive, Sal. Unless you want to regale him with tales of your life?”

“Carry on, boss.” It sounded like there was a salute in the reply. Ctirad was suddenly more curious about this Sal.

“So, Ctirad?”

“Uh. If I’m being honest, depends on the question, and depends on if I get wiggle room or it’s an order.”

“I’d prefer you be honest – but that’s not an order, not yet. All right. So.” He got the impression Sir was looking at him. “Sal? Any questions?”

🔒

First – Previous – Landing Page – Next

Want more?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1290889.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

So, Tell Me About Your Day… (Cya’s Date Continues)

Mar26

After Cya gets ready for a date and Almost Out the Door for a Date and Trying Again and Blind Dateand Catching Up and Getting to (re-)Know him
and Also Needs a Title
and More Cya Date.
🍽️
They ordered dinner. There was a moment where it looked like Manus expected Cya to order for him; then he coughed and ordered his own food. Something different than she’d have picked; she wondered if he did it out of some residual defiance.

She hoped not. She didn’t want defiant, because defiant meant he was still thinking of her as an authority figure. Domme, maybe. She could definitely get behind (ha) that. But not authority figure in the rest of his life.

“So,” she asked, over delicious white bread that tasted all the better for remembering years where white flour was hard to come by, with a dipping sauce of Cloverleaf-grown olives (one of her proudest accomplishments was that tiny greenhouse orchard). “Tell me more about being a judge-and-diplomat?”

“Well, like I said,” he smiled at her over his wine, “it’s something of just getting people to talk, nothing fancy.”

“Well, give me an example?” she coaxed. It was all in the tone of voice. She didn’t want him thinking anything like orders.

“Okay, so. Couple months ago, Neihart Mountain, it lost two trade caravans headed up to MinuteTown. You know, up in the mountains, that place nobody thought would survive.”

“I remember.” She’d pulled three kids from there the year they thought it would collapse, the three that were the right age to take to Doomsday. The city had stayed standing. The kids had chosen not to go back.

“So, every once in a while, they get it in their head that they need something some other city near them has. And when they do, well, they go attacking. They’re not much better than bandits with a decent home base at this point, and seems like they’re suffering some brain drain. The ones that can get out, the smart ones, tend to leave.”

Cya looked guiltily down at her plate. “We encourage that, on occasion.”

“Good. People that are smart enough to get out of there ought to. Something I figured out a long time ago, Cya. People aren’t required to go down with a ship just because it carried them for a while.” He tapped her nose lightly, then pulled his hand back. When she peeked up at him, he looked mildly worried.

She stuck her tongue out at him so he’d know she wasn’t offended. “So they were raiding Neihart?”

“Trying, at least. But let’s be honest, even if Neihart can take them down with one hand tied behind their collective back – and they can – it’s a drain on resources and it’s demoralizing. So I got myself together a collection of some very terrifying people, a couple former cy’Dougs and ah, couple people you might recognize their names, and had them arm and armor themselves to the teeth, and then they followed me… and I talked.

“I wasn’t just going to bully them, I knew that wouldn’t work. So I brought a wagon of flour and bread and sausage and some of that really good goat cheese, and three baskets of vegetables, and seeds. And Dory Antelevron, she’s a genius with anything planting and she can teach an idiot how to be a genius. She volunteered,” he added. “And I explained to them that what was going to happen was that Dory was going to visit them under guard, and teach them how to not be stupid with their own food stores. And they were, in payment for listening to Dory, going to get a wagon full of food and not get wiped off the map.

“The thing about a cy’Doug with a sword,” he added, with a bright and cheerful smile, “is that you don’t even think can she kill me? You’re mostly thinking how long ‘till my breathing irritates her? They agreed. They were in a damn hurry to agree. And Dory thinks some of what she taught them might even stick.”

“Brilliant.” Cya grinned at him. “Sounds like a fun job.”

🍷

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1290746.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable