Archives

Go Go (Go Away) Godzilla, a story of Fae Apoc

Mar26

Sometime around 2012-2013 – just after the apocalypse.

Entirely the fault of me watching Kong yesterday.

“Idu Intinn… kaiju.”

There were times when Cya really could not fault Leo for believing he was an anime hero.

“Okay, guys, it’s got no brain, take it down.”

Of course, times like this, it would probably be more helpful if he thought he was the hero in a Toho flick.

“Taking out its… uh.. forelimbs… watch the ground… now! Abatu Eperu έδαφος gamma.”

She was probably going to hell for thinking so flippantly about it. Then again, they might already all be in hell.

From her perch on the wall (because she was squishy and theoretically a non-combatant), Cya watched the lizard-like creature twice the height of the nearby buildings stumble into the pit she’d made under its forelimbs. It brought its neck down to a reasonable height for the others to start lopping at it and she, because she had never been all that reasonable about such things, jumped down onto its back.

“Why this is hell, nor am I out of it,” she muttered, while she sliced down the thing’s spine with her sharpest knife. “Tempero Eperu, Unutu λεπίδα αιχμηρός,” she hissed, sharpening her blade, and dug in again. “Think’st thou that I who saw the faces of gods…” She’d better watch out, or she was going to end up as mad as Leo, quoting Shakespeare in the midst of a battle.

And thinking midst. She held on to her blade with both hands while the thing bucked. “Hole coming, one, two… now! Abatu Eperu έδαφος delta!”

She rode the thing down to the ground, blood and gore splattering all over her. She’d found its spine, though, and now she could sever its spinal cored. “Do you think?” she asked, as she sawed through the thing, “that someone showed the returned gods the wrong movies? Or do you think Japan had a window into Ellehem a long time ago?”

The Workings she uses in this are, in order:

“Know Mind” (does it have one?)

“Destroy Earth, ground, level 3″ (and later level 4)

“Control Earth-and-Worked-Objects, blade, sharper.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1289640.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Just a drabble of Cya and Change – Sword and Lady timeline – mostly for Cal

Mar25

This is concurrent with the stuff with Luke thinking and talking to people about Deep Thoughts, and with Cya “yelling” at her Kept. And with [personal profile] inventrix’s stories about Leo and his Rescue Kept, Jeska

It had been a year for “firsts” and for changes. Sometimes she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to process all the new things.

She had stagnated, she knew, for a long time. It had been comfortable. It had been safe.

She had a city because of the last time she’d decided to stop being safe.

Now Leo had a Kept. Now she, Cya, had a boyfriend. Now Leo had sworn to be her sword and obey her.

Now she knew for sure that Leo didn’t love her, and knew just as certainly that he would be with her forever.

It was time for more change.

She threw on her “field trip” clothes and went to Find Leo. “Hey. You have a few hours free?”

“Oh, yeah. Just let me tell Jeska when I’ll be back, if that’s okay. Ah-” He grinned sheepishly at her. “When will I be back?”

“By dinnertime. I want to scout out a couple sites for something, and I need someone to watch my back and keep me safe from dragons. And, well. Someone to bounce ideas off of, too. Isra’s a great teleporter, but she doesn’t really like reading or study, much to my chagrin, and her idea of fighting is ‘run away; they can’t follow.’” She smiled, a little abashed. “She’s a really good teleporter, though.”

“Ha. Yeah, sure, I’ll be right back. Should I bring anything?”

“I brought lunch already.” She held up a picnic basket. “Although if we’re attacked by dragons, I don’t think it’ll do much good.”

“What are you scouting for? The best site to fight dragons?”

“That’s-” She cut herself off. “I’m not telling you that. But I’m not scouting for it, no.”

“Awww.” He grinned at her. “Here I was hoping you’d tell me where to fight them.”

“When they attack us, how’s that? There’ll be plenty of that, I’m sure.”

“I suppose.“

He was far too much fun when he was mock-pouting. Cya swatted him lightly on the ass, because otherwise they’d never get going. “I’ll meet you at the square with the fountain – Denver and Seventh – in ten minutes.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am.” He was grinning widely. Cya found she was, too.

It was time for another project.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1289046.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Cya Yells at a Kept

Mar24

Okay, so the premise of this is thus: in this timeline, Cya has a small meltdown when she realizes that Leo is never going to love her the way she loves him. This has always been true. She’s always known it to be true. But she’s got a lot of practice at denial.

Anyway, her poor Kept has to deal with sobbing Cya and… in a move proving why her power thought he needed to be in a protective Keeping for a year… punches Leo in the face.

Leo gamely DOESN’T attack him back, although he scolds him, yells at him, and tells him to get out of his sight.

And then Cya comes home.

Cya Found her Kept in the spare bedroom, in the back corner, behind the built-in armoire. She sat down next to him and waited for him to look at her.

He cleared his throat. “I screwed up.” He sounded miserable.

“Yes, you did.” She made her voice gentle. “Why, Carew?”

“I…” He cleared his throat. “I punched Leo.”

“I noticed.” She gave him a small smile, a nice crooked one. “You don’t have don’t-attack-other-people orders because you didn’t seem like the sort to need them. Do I have to rethink that?”

“No! I mean…” He shook his head. “It was idiotic and I understand it. It’s just…”

“Tell me.” It was said gently, but it was no less an order.

“You were hurting!” It came out in a tumble, the way things ordered out often did. “I mean, crying, miserable, for days. Nights. And I mean, it doesn’t take an idiot to know it’s because of him. He hurt you, and he won’t – he won’t do anything about it.”

Cya considered that for a moment before shaking her head. “If I had punched the same wall for a hundred years,” she asked him, picturing it as she asked it, “would you be angry at me, or the wall?”

He considered it slowly. “It depends. Was the wall in your way? Was it trapping you?”

“Only, well, only because I put myself between three unmoving walls and didn’t think to walk out the fourth side.” She made a square-off U with her pointer fingers and thumbs. “I stood here banging my head against this wall, because I already knew the other two weren’t going to move. I mean, they’re not going to move either, but…” She took away the U and scrubbed at an imaginary stain with her hand. “I wanted those walls less, I guess? I didn’t want to give them as much of my blood, at least.”

He was staring at her. She ducked her head, even though she tried so hard not to do things like that with her Kept. “Too much?”

“No. No, I get it. I’ve uh. There’ve been walls I banged my head on, too. But you – you’re a lot o-” he coughed. The look he gave her was something like she was a sad puppy… which lately, she supposed she deserved.

“I’ve been at this a lot longer than you have. Yeah.” She grimaced. “I learn slowly, when it comes to some things. And I really, really, love him. Look… I’ve known Leo for a long time.”

“Since before my grandparents were born, he said.”

She looked at him and considered. “Since our first round of great-grandchildren are out of school for the most part… yes. That’s probably quite accurate.”

“Our? First round?”

“The kids Leo and I had separately and together at Addergoole, their Addergoole kids’ Addergoole kids,” she clarified. “At this point I have grandchildren older than at least one child. It gets messy… anyway.” She smiled sidelong. “I’ve known Leo practically forever. And I can tell you – if he agrees with you that he’s done something wrong, he can beat himself up far more effectively than anything you can do to him. Also… if you punch one of my crew-mates again,” and now she intentionally continued in the same dead-calm casual voice, because she wanted the whiplash to get his attention, “I will punish you hard enough that your great-grandchildren will remember it. Understood?”

He gulped and stared at her as if the puppy had turned out to be Cerberus. She smiled at him, which served to remind him that she had very sharp teeth indeed.

“I… uh. I understand. Ma’am, Cya sa’Red Doomsday, ma’am. I…” something broke in his voice and the panic went away. He just looked embarrassed. “I really am sorry. I just – I really felt bad for you.”

She hugged him tightly to her. “I know, kiddo. And that’s why you’re getting off with a warning this time. And dishes and garbage duty for the next month.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He already did the dishes most nights anyway. Wisely, he didn’t mention that. “Thank you, ma’am.”

.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1287833.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Luke Tries to Apologize

Mar24

(this one comes before yesterdays’ Luke’s Homework (http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1285682.html) story. That’s what I get for writing before we finish the RP…)

“I’ve been thinking.” As intros went, leaning in the doorway of Mike’s office with his feet still planted on the hallway floor, it left something to be desired. But he had been, and that had been the best he could come up with.

“I can tell.” Mike smirked up at him. “Come in, feather-brain. Keep doing that and we’ll have an audience in no time.”

Luke came in, closing the door behind him. “It’s summer,” he muttered, before letting himself get back to the topic. “You can tell?”

“Your wings twitch when you’re thinking.”

Luke spread his wings, catching himself after only a hand-spread, and pulled them back in close. “They twitch a lot.”

“But not so much when you’re not talking to people. What’s on your mind, Hunting-Hawk?”

There was something formal about the way Mike used his Name. Luke fought to keep his wings still and his voice level.

None of that mattered if Mike decided to read his emotions, but Mike usually avoided that.

“I owe you an apology.” He let it hang in the air just long enough to know he had Mike’s attention, and then continued quickly, before the Daeva could blow it off with a joke. “For the time when I Kept you.”

“You really have been thinking. Luca, that was lifetimes ago. Centuries ago.”

“You always said I was a bit slow, didn’t you?”

“But Luca…” Mike sounded nearly plaintive. “What for? You got my bacon out of the fire. Not the first time, not remotely the last time.”

Luca was worse than Hunting-Hawk. Luke took a couple breaths. “Because I was an idiot, and I got all messed up about – about you being a Daeva. And it meant I didn’t Keep you as well as I could have.”

“Oh, that.” Mike flapped a hand at him. “Come on, I figured it out a long time ago. Back then, I just didn’t know you’d been raised by Mara and humans. It makes everything make so much more sense. Besides,” Mike grinned at him, “if I got upset every time you were an idiot, I’d always be mad at you.”

“Damnit, Treesap, can’t you take anything seriously?” He didn’t mean to bellow, but he was feeling like everything fit wrong, and Mike just kept smiling at him.

And now the smile got a little sickly around the edges. “No, Feathers. Because if I take it seriously I’ll weep, and then you’ll bellow, and we’ll both be miserable, and that’s not what either of us want. You’re sorry. I hear you. But I don’t know why, and I don’t know what it means.”

“What it…” Luke sat down – there were always backless stools in Mike’s office, even though Mike’s Students almost never had wings – with a heavy thump. “It means I was a moron to push you away.”

“You were a Mara. I mean, I know it’s nearly the same word for a reason, but it’s not like I expect any different. Look, Luca.” Mike leaned forward, chin in hands, elbows on knees. “I accept your apology. I mean, it’s nice you finally realized you were kind of a jerk. But I’m not kidding. You saved my life that time. You’ve saved my life loads. And I appreciate that more than I’m worried about you being sort of, uh, brusque and unwilling as a Keeper all those years ago.”

“But…” Luke sighed. This was not what he’d expected, not at all.

“Think some more,” Mike advised. Somehow, Luke couldn’t even take offense from it. “When you figure out what you want, let me know.”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1291012.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1287580.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Beauty-Beast 5: Drive Home

Mar24

First – Previous – Landing Page – Next

🔒

“Down three stairs here, right – now. There you go. You’re quite good at this.” Sir guided Ctirad down the stairs, his arm very warm and his grip pleasantly firm.

“Would you believe practice?”

“At the moment, from you, I’d believe any number of things, my handsome dear. Did Ermenrich know what you are? How good you are?”

“He…” Ctirad considered his answers. “Didn’t really care, sir. He was interested in what he wanted, and that was about as far as it went.”

“A short-sighted man in many ways. Ah, well. Door here, hold on.” The sound of a door being opened was followed by faint traffic noises. Not on the road they were on, then. Ctirad wondered where, exactly, they were. One of Sir’s buildings? One of Ermenrich’s? He didn’t think even his former master would have left him in an abandoned building helpless to wait for his new owner.

Not, at least, if it would cause the deal to fall through.

“All right, we’re going to get into the car. Here we go, mind your head.” Sir’s hand was very firm on the back of Ctirad’s head as he steered him down and into a car. It smelled like leather and cleaner, like it had very recently been detailed.

He scooted over and felt Sir’s leg next to his, and then the door closed firmly. “We’re going home, please.”

“Yes, sir.” The voice was a warm alto. Ctirad could tell almost nothing from it about the speaker, except that they were in front of him, in the driver’s seat, and that there wasn’t glass.

“Now.” He could feel Sir shifting, his knee leaving contact only to brush against Ctirad’s leg again. “We’re not in private, but we’re not in public, either, so what happens for the next half hour is, at least in part, up to you.”

That was new. Ctirad wanted badly to open his eyes, if only to see what sort of body language went with that. “Sir?” had to suffice instead.

🔒

First – Previous – Landing Page – Next

Want more?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1287347.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Luke’s Homework

Mar23

So. This came about because of a roleplay conversation between Leo and Luke, sometime… a couple few decades after Coverleaf is built, so in like the 70s, 80s cohorts, IIRC.

But I think it’ll happen in any timeline eventually, once Luke realizes how many assumptions he’s been working on.

“I want you to tell me about being Kept.” Luke had, although he’d deny it if ever asked, practiced that line until it no longer sounded stupid. “What you remember the most, what you hated, anything you liked.”

The student — Denny, a boy born for cy’Linden if there ever had been one, never mind that his mother was cy’Valerian and his father sy’Ginger — raised his eyebrows at LUke. “Do I have to?”

“Your Mentor asked you to cooperate,” Luke reminded him. He would notlet himself get baited. The cy’Linden kids knew how easy it was, and it was practically a sport for them.

Denny had to be thinking the same thing. “Is this punishment for… that thing with the water balloons?”

Despite himself, Luke smiled. The thing with the water balloons had actually been pretty clever. “No. If it helps, you can think of it as homework.”

“…from the gym teacher?” Denny’s body language was far stiller than his facial expressions, which had been made for the stage.

(was there theatre anywhere? DId Cloverleaf have theatre? He should find out… later.)

“Would you rather run laps?” Luke let it be a growl. Denny’s shoulders suggested that he was getting more nervous the more Luke failed to rise to any of his bait.

It worked. Denny looked at him as if he’d asked something particularly foolish. “Well, yeah. Of course.”

“I’d rather be running laps,” Luke admitted. It had the benefit of being completely true. “But this is homework for me, too.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1285682.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Beauty-Beast 4

Mar22

First – Previous – Landing Page – Next

🔒

There was a moment where Ctirad thought that he’d given the wrong answer, that Sir was going to be irritated with him or, worse, dismissive. Then the arms around him shifted until a hand was patting his shoulder. “You know, Ermenrich sold you far too cheaply. You’re a treasure.”

The praise filled him with warmth, the way it always did. Ctirad let himself stay as he was, leaned against Sir’s chest. It was nice, while it lasted. And it was a drug, but it wasn’t a drug he had any control over, so there was no point in worrying about it. “I’m glad you approve, sir.”

“All right. Keep your eyes closed, and I’m going to lead you out to my car. It’s not that far from here. Tell – no. Can you tell me something about yourself, while we walk?”

Sir moved until his arm was around Ctirad’s waist, and, feeling daring, Ctirad moved his own arm lightly around Sir’s waist. “Well.” He coughed, a little amused despite the situation. “I’m not straight. And I knew that before I got collared. But there’s uh. Something different about it when you’re not pretending for anyone but your Owner, you know?”

“I have some idea. All right, it’s level for a bit here, so we’re just walking forward. Easy, there you go.”

Ctirad’s legs had woken up, but he let himself lean on Sir anyway. It felt warm and easy, and he was going to take it while it lasted.

“So, pretending for your Owner?” Sir’s voice was quiet, kinda thoughtful. “You do a lot of that?”

“…Fuck, don’t order me not to. Please. Sir.” He knew he didn’t sound submissive. He couldn’t make himself sound submissive about that. He cleared his throat and tried for explanation instead. “Orders like that, they fuck with your head.”

Sir’s chuckle was low and warm. “I won’t. But I might ask you, a few times over the first months, if you’re pretending.”

“…In private? Sir.” Ctirad swallowed. The public humiliations had been the worst. The part where he knew he couldn’t go back to being who he was, that was a ship long sailed. But the part where he had to work with those people and he was made to grovel…

“In private.” Sir squeezed Ctirad’s hip lightly. “In public, I’m not going to give you orders. I’m going to treat you as something between a bodyguard, an assistant, and a boyfriend. We’ll worry about the orders for that later. In private – well, in private, you’re mine.”

His voice was warm and throaty. Ctirad thought that Sir was very pleased with the idea. “I’m yours, sir.” At the moment, he thought he was pretty pleased with the notion, too.

🔒

First – Previous – Landing Page – Next

Want more?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1285402.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Worldbuilding Month Day 9: Building Worlds

Mar22

March is Worldbuilding Month! Leave me a question about any of my worlds, and I will do my best to answer it! (I need more questions, guys)
🌏
This ninth one is from [twitter.com profile] medicmsh3141: What’s your favorite part of mapmaking?

Oh, no, favorites!

…All of it?

Okay, so when I was working on my first-ever Nanowrimo novel, The Deep Inks, one of the flaws in that book is that I spent like… 3 chapters describing an entirely-useless-to-plot town that the antagonists had built… I don’t even remember why.

But I LOVED that town.

Forget killing my darling lines, when I worldbuild–>write, I have to kill my darling TOWNS.

Okay so.

Map-making.

First, I’m rubbish at visualization, so when I make a map, I can start to actually SEE a place come together.

Second, it’s arts-and-crafts, and I really, REALLY like arts-and-crafts. I get to pull out the lentils/split peas/other pulses and play like I’m finger painting, I get to draw shapes that aren’t going to look “wrong” because, let’s face it, it’s an imaginary world. I get to get out the watercolors and PAINT.

…there’s more than one reason I do all my mapmaking on actual paper with pencil. 🙂

Okay, so there’s the haptic side of it, there’s the visualization side. There’s getting to play with logistics, too: where would they put cities? Roads? Fords/bridges?

I’m gonna put floor-plan making in here too, ‘cause it fills many of the same urges. “How would they cram as many people as possible into this space, to both fill basic needs for shelter AND to encourage them to spread out and build proper houses?”

(That one’s Colonize Earth, which I never did get too far with).

Maps and diagrams are all about questions. How would they do that that is different from how I would do it?

I’m still not one hundred percent sure why Cya built Cloverleaf in a series of circles – but I love it. Might’ve been for the tower in the middle, everything pointing like arrows at the giant thing that, after all, is not actually the school.

Anke prompted me with “treehouse” the other day and I’m still playing with all the details of a post-apocalyptic scrounger’s tree house…

…I considered going into architecture, you know. Sometimes I really regret that I didn’t.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1285229.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

More Cya Date

Mar20

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.

Cya reached over the table and tapped Manus on the top of the head. “Okay. Rule one. No pouty faces in public.”

“I thought rule one was ‘don’t attack you?’”

“That’s rule one for Kept. This is rule one for boyfriends.”

“Oh, so there’s a completely different – wait, what?”

Cya waited a moment for him to catch up, one eyebrow raised in her best teacher face. A moment later, he smirked slowly. He always had been one of her smarter Kept.

“So, does that mean pouty faces are fine in private?”

She grinned at him. “You’re clever. Yes. Look, the real rule is – if we’re going to consider dating, then we’re dating as adults.”

“So I can’t expect you to tell me what to do?” She thought he might look a little sad about that one.

So she gave him her best toothy grin, the one she’d been getting a lot of practice with lately. “Oh, I didn’t say that. But that’s for private. We date as adults, we can play as adults if that’s what you want, and once in a while I’ll probably tell you what to do. I mean, I am dictator – ah, Mayor – of a city-state. I can be pretty bossy when I want to be.”

He grinned at her, the sadness clearly gone. “I wouldn’t know anything at all about you being bossy, Miz Mayor. Nothing at all. So – you mean it?”

“I mean it. No sulking in public. It’s ridiculous.” She winked at him, because some part of her was still remembering him three decades ago and wearing her collar, and she wanted to make sure he knew she was teasing.

“No. Uh.” He shook his head, looking flustered. Some part of him might be remembering that, too. “I mean. Uh. Dating? You’re interested? I figured once you saw it was one of your former, um. ‘Kept du Jour’ that you’d be gone.”

“Look, you’re doing what? Being judge and ambassador for a nearby city-state? Look, that’s impressive. It’s impressive for people twice your age and, dead gods, I hope that didn’t sound as condescending to you as it sounded from here.” She ducked her head, realizing she was blushing and wishing she could in good conscience burrow through the floor and run away.

He chuckled. “Look, that’s kind of what I’m worried about.”

“…me being condescending? ‘Cause I don’t think I’m usually that bad to my peers.” Then again, her closest peers were a formerly-insane samurai, a currently-insane goblin, and a cowboy with a fidelity issue.

“No. No, ‘cause I mean, you remember the world Before. You’re got a lot more life experience than I do. Why would you have any interest in, well, me?”

Cya looked at him over her glass for a minute. Then she put her glass down and looked at him a little more. “Something I learned – well, far more recently than I ought to have, I think, is that people grow up at wildly different rates. From the sound of things, you grew up. Me, I grew up about when I finished this city. So… we’re pretty close to on par.

“Besides.” She gave him her brightest smile. “You already know all of my sensitive spots and I already know how to make you squirm.”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1290746.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1283694.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Beekeeper – in which pennies are discussed

Mar20

First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which There are Second Thoughts – and Third.
🐝

THIS CHAPTER IS NOW DEPRECATED AND IS NOT CANON. 

In Which They Stop Kissing Long Enough to Talk is the last canon chapter before the rewrite begins.

See the rewrite beginning here – http://www.lynthornealder.com/2020/06/26/beekeeper-in-which-they-go-to-bed/

Her eyes were closed. He liked that; it let him watch her face. Her hands were on him like she was trying to pin him down – who was he kidding? She could pin him down without any hands at all – and her expression was somewhere else, somewhere reaching for bliss.

He brushed his lips against hers, then kissed her properly. He was on his back, and she was on top of him and…

He closed his eyes and stopped thinking for a while. She was moving above him and that was, for the moment, all that mattered.

When he opened his eyes, it was to kiss her again. Like this, he could feel the press of her collar against his neck. Her collar. Would it be so bad…?

Not the time to think about such things. He ran his hands up and down her back. He wondered, in a way he hadn’t for a while, what her Change was. He hadn’t Un-Masked for her; wouldn’t have if she had demanded it, might have if she’d asked it. She’d done neither, and her Mask was up, too. He kissed her collarbones, wondering.

“Penny for your thoughts,” she murmured. He grinned at her.

“Pennies, really? Those are pretty valuable now, all that copper.”

For a second, he thought he’d flustered her. Then she stroked his hair – gently, he couldn’t remember anyone being that gentle with him – and smiled.

“So’re your thoughts. Valuable, that is.”

He kissed her, his hand low enough down on her back that it wasn’t holding her and high enough up that she knew what he wanted. And for a while, he didn’t have any thoughts to give, for a penny or for a whole hive of honey.
🐝

Want More?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1282925.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable