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Story Repost: Discovery Channel

I have reposted Discovery Channel, a story of Fae Apoc, to Patreon.

Originally posted here on October 26th, 2010, it is set in the midst of the apocalypse. I think, of all of the stories from that era, it gives the best feeling for the setting while being a decently-written story as well.


The halls of the internment camp – voluntary relocation center – were nearly empty. In the first couple weeks here, they’d been full and bouncing, as people, antsy in the confined space, a repurposed abandoned high school building, had wandered from room to room, visiting, meeting new people, just looking for an excuse to get out of their barracks…

(read on…)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/965680.html. You can comment here or there.

Doomsday Academy Setting Notes

to go with Cloverleaf: a basic write-up of the city

Doomsday Academy is an 8-year educational institution covering from ages 10 to 18.

The classes cover a spectrum of traditional and modern class subjects, including Math, Survival, Literature, Law, and Science. In addition, a variety of extracurricular clubs cover subjects from Theatre Arts to Fiber Arts to Martial Arts. Sometimes, students who are Addergoole-bound attend Doomsday until they are called to Addergoole; often, Addergoole students will send their non-Addergoole-promised children to Doomsday.

Each fae student learns magic from their Mentors and from other teachers who are proficient in the student’s best Words. The school is primarily for fae students, but they do occasionally have a human student. There are three additional schools in Cloverleaf for human students, one per circle.

Doomsday Academy is housed in a series of buildings built to look like Victorian houses (and church), including three classroom buildings, a dining-and-gathering hall, the dojo, the greenhouse, and the Library. Young students live in a single dormitory; older students live in houses with their cy’ree. Students in their last few years at Doomsday can choose to live in apartment-style housing with their crew. Buildings run along either side of a narrow foot-road, crossing a wider foot-road, in a block of Cloverleaf off to one side of the main road and near a park. There is plenty of green space.

Uniforms are grey, black, and white, with grey-black-and-white plaid; students can choose between pants, skirts, or kilts, sweaters, button-up shirts, and vests (in any combination), with kimono as an alternative option.

Each Mentor’s cy’ree has their own color combination and an accessory they add to the uniform, replacing tie and socks with the cy’ree color.

Professors and their cy’ree colors, when known, are listed below

Prof. Doomsday
Cynara, Red Doomsday
Carmine, Red
cy’Red accessory: utility belt

Prof. Inazuma
Leofric, Lightning Blade
Sky Blue, Yellow
cy’Lightning accessory: tanto-style dagger

Prof. Agislaw
Kheper, Law-Shield
Orange, Green
cy’Law accessory:

Prof. Lily
Dáirine, Black Lily
Sage Green, Rose
cy’Lily accessory:

Prof. Chthon
Athanaric, Beneath the Surface
Dove Grey, Pale Blue
cy’Underground accessory: ??

Prof. Sweetflower
Magnolia, Sweetest Thing
Purple, Plum
cy’Sweetflower accessory: scarf

Meliadne, Soft-Sight
Dark Raspberry, Turquoise
cy’Healer accessory:

Aceline, Water Under the Bridge

~

Clubs are as follows:

Drama Club
– Advisor: Prof. Chthon

Camping Club
– Advisor: Prof. Doomsday

Newspaper Club
– Advisor: Prof. Inazuma

Fashion Club
– Advisor: Prof. Sweetflower

Chorus Club
– Advisor: Aceline

Fiber Arts Club
– Advisor: Prof. Doomsday

Gardening Club
– Advisor: Prof. Lily

Martial Arts Club
– Advisor: Prof. Inazuma

Puzzle Club
– Advisor: Prof. Agislaw

Archaeology Club
– Advisor: Prof. Chthon

Model Citizens Club
– Advisor: Prof. Agislaw

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/964966.html. You can comment here or there.

Cloverleaf: A Basic Write-up of the City

Cloverleaf is built approx 50 years after the apocalypse, or about (plus or minus 7 years) 2061.

Notably, it was built almost entirely by magic, and as such the walls show no block marks, no seams.

Built about 14 miles (23 km) northeast of Helena, Montana – to take advantage of the prewar hydroelectric dam there – Cloverleaf takes the shape of three large (approx. 1 mile diameter) walled circles, touching at one edge.

Two of these circles hold farmland; the third holds the city of Cloverleaf, itself taking the shape of three overlapping walled circles with a very tall tower in the center (where the three circles overlap). Three gates pierce the outer wall, one for each inner circle, and from those gates to the Tower in each circle runs a wide “Main Street.”

Each Main street is lined with inns and restaurants close to the gates, stores and shops and light industry (home crafts) in the middle of the circles, and apartment buildings then factories (still rather light industrial – think fabric, grain mills, stuff I haven’t quite figured out yet) closest to the Tower.

On the wide sidewalks on Main Street, street vendors abound, often taking over much of the street as well.

Most traffic is foot or horse-and-carriage; cars are rare although jury-rigged car-to-carriage/wagon set-ups are not uncommon, esp. in traders coming from the outside.

Fae are common, welcome, and visible here. Guards are visible at the front gate — they check in all guests with a level of interest that ranges from “casual hello” to “three-hour interrogation.” They also patrol the city, and so, while there is crime, it is not rampant.

Off Main Street, streets branch to either side in a very regular pattern. There are quite a few parks and green spaces, punctuating neighborhoods of houses, many of which have a certain sameness to them and a very pointedly stone construction: stone buildings with slate roofs, many painted or tinted in brilliant colors. Yards are big by pre-War city standards, big enough that you could, if you want, subdivide each yard and put a second house on it. Houses are small by pre-war Suburban standards but large enough to comfortably house large families.

Every house has running water and electricity; phone is not a thing and neither is TV but there are radios and radio programs. The library is huge and full of a very random, completely un-curated selection of “anything we can find.” There is also an art gallery – similar collection style – and a history museum.

Much of what is available is industrial-era technology, and there are a lot of scrounged and repurposed items, especially metal things.

Fashion is driven by a few very visible people, and has a sort of Turkish-meets-bazaar-meets-medieval feel much of the time. Cotton, linen, and wool are produced in/near Cloverleaf; the dyes are still mostly natural, except those things Meentiked up magically.

The Clover is the unit of currency; a 100-C bill is approx one day’s salary for a basic job.

The political system is a representative democracy under an unelected benign dictator; each circle has (at the beginning) 2 representatives into a council. There is also an appointed Administrator who works much like a VP/Speaker of the House. Economy is lightly taxed capitalism with basic needs for all citizens, the guard system, and maintenance of the city paid for by tax revenue.

Citizens are provided free basic hotel-style housing; there are no homeless in Cloverleaf (unless they want to be. Still working on that). Very basic food/clothing needs are also provided.

Cloverleaf does not, as far as I know, have an army.

It does have a Leo.

edits: Within ~20 years of its founding, Cloverleaf has a weather-moderation system intact. It does not entirely eliminate weather in the city, but what it does is raises the wintertime temperature sufficiently that longer-season crops can be grown, and that the punitive northern winters aren’t nearly as punitive.

Also, a mile away from the city or so on the non-river side, there is a hundred-acre forest butting up against and climbing the side of the foothills. Its trees are arranged in a disturbingly regular grid pattern, but it otherwise gives off the feeling of a very natural forest – plenty of plant diversity, wildlife diversity, undergrowth and such.

As the years go on, the forest is expanded by about a acre a year, with trees that are speed-grown up to the ~40-year-age mark and then allowed to go wild. There are probably also more naturally planted trees, as Cloverleaf citizens are allowed to hunt and farm this woods, but encouraged to maintain it as a long-term resource.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/964849.html. You can comment here or there.

An Educational Visit, Part VI- The End

Written to [personal profile] inventrix‘s and Kuro-Neko’s request/commission after I Should Visit, Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV and Part V; 2500 words


“…you might consider, in due time, why some people’s children seem to know so much more, coming to Addergoole, than others’.”

Regine watched the woman walk down the stairs, her mink tail bobbing. She watched her open the back door and head out into the back yard, where Feu Drake was telling the toddler some convoluted story.

It was a question she had not given too much thought, she was forced to admit, if only to herself. Some students came in with basic or no educational background; some came in nearly college-educated. Some knew what a Kept was, what a promise was, what hawthorn was. Some learned those things the hard was during the course of their time at Addergoole.

It did make it harder to shock them into Changing, but the tight, Ellehemaei-full environment did what surprise did not.

She realized Cynara was looking at her. She could ask, of course. She raised her eyebrows; that often sufficed.

Cynara smiled back at her, a small thing and enigmatic. “I’ll tell you the half I don’t think even you will think to forbid. The rest you’ll have to figure out for yourself, I’m afraid. I won’t do future generations that disservice.”

Regine coughed politely. “You would say that the oaths are a disservice?”

“To keep our children intentionally in the dark about any part of their heritage? To set them up to be targets to predators like Tethys, like Alika, like Delaney?

Regine noted the names she chose with interest. The Keepers of her son and her grandson, that made sense. But – “Not Eriko?”

“Eriko is a childish, spiteful, blind person.” Cynara listed the words as if she was passing sentence. Regine was suddenly struck by a recollection of a young Sigruko speaking of her “Aunt Cya.” “But she is not a predator. As I was saying – yes. Yes, the oaths are a disservice, especially to those without the wherewithal to get around them. And as for how – we make friends, Director, simple as that – something you instilled in us, if we didn’t come with the skill. We make friends.” Her smile was suddenly very bright. “Someday, perhaps, I’ll introduce you to Bambi the Impaler, speaking of friends.”

Regine found herself raising her eyebrows yet again. “That sounds… not so friendly.”

“It’s a long story, like all of the best stories are. Now, where were we?”

“I think it’s best we were leaving.” Regine had been given a number of things to think about. She wanted to retreat to the quiet of her office to consider them all in the proper context.

“Oh, but you haven’t seen the dojo yet!” It was very hard to tell with Cynara, but Regine thought it possible that the woman was sincere. “It’s not going to be a complete tour without that.”

“Perhaps another time,” Regine murmured. She doubted she would return here for many years, but it was the polite excuse.

“I would quite like to see this dojo. Sa’Hunting Hawk has spoken very well of it.”

Once again, Feu Drake foiled her. Regine wondered, in some irritation, why she had hired him after all.

“Well, then, I suppose go we shall,” Regine allowed with poor grace.

“Oh, good.” She was either a supremely good actress – which Regine would not put past her – or Cynara was genuinely relieved. “I’m sure Inuzama will be glad to see you. This way. Upsie, Kovi, that’s a boy.” She swung the boy up onto her hip and led through the back yard of her cy’ree house. Watching her tail sway again, the little blonde child riding happily on her hip, Regine was struck with an unfamiliar thought. She was watching a stranger, a woman entirely at home in her own skin and entirely a cypher to Regine.

“Have you visited here before?” She pitched her question quietly, for Feu Drake alone, but was not naive enough to believe she would not be overheard.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Oh, no, I haven’t been to Cloverleaf since it was nothing but a couple of walls and three houses. But Cya and I have kept in touch over the years. She writes letters,” he explained, and then, with a little smirk, continued. “Of course, she sends them via teleporter, but that should surprise no-one.”

It struck Regine, finally, what sounded wrong about his discussions of his former student. “You’re not fond of informality. As a matter of fact, I believe you said this situation called for formality.”

“And so it does. We are guests in another Ellehemaei’s territory. Why would you – ah.” The surprised realization had to be feigned. “Perhaps you speak of me referring to jae’Doomsday as ‘Cya.’“

“It’s a nickname. I’ve never heard you use a nickname before.”

“No.” Cynara’s voice came from in front of them; she didn’t bother turning around. “You were there at my naming ceremony, the graduation, sa’Lady of the Lake.”

“I attend very many naming ceremonies. Seventy-five or so since yours. But I certainly would not forget your Name; not with it being so explosive.”

Cynara and Feu Drake laughed as if they were sharing a joke – and, it seemed, they were. Cynara turned this time, smiling. “Sa’Hunting Hawk said much the same thing. I think our crew name just causes everyone to think everything we do is explosive. Bulldozer. Lightning Blade. …Taste the Rainbow. Red Doomsday. My Name isn’t about explosions, Director.” She shifted her child on her hip in a way that somehow drew one’s eyes directly to his puckish face. “It’s about preparations. And what we’re discussing isn’t my Name – it’s just that trick Professor Drake pulled with my given name.”

“Names connect a child to their father. Given some of the…” Feu Drake looked at a loss for a moment, a situation Regine had seen only a few times in all the years she had known him. “Some of the issues surrounding this particular father – Cya’s, that is–”

“There are issues surrounding him?” Regine found her eyebrows shooting up.

“As several of my students were once fond of saying, ‘volumes.’ The issues around Enion Dayton are too many to list out here, but let us simply say that I thought it best to provide a bit of distance. I believe it’s worked.”

“Haven’t heard from him in decades.” Cynara sounded particularly cheerful. Regine was finding herself just a little bit lost.

“I don’t see what that has to do with…” It hit her. “Ah. You gave her a Name and, at the same time, you changed her name. From Cynara to Cya.”

“Exactly.” Drake smiled, looking far too pleased with himself. Regine found she could not fault him for that.

“Very interesting. I should ask Ambrus how that has worked for him throughout the years.”

“Oh, is he still with you? How interesting.” Cynara gestured across the green. “Here we are. The dojo.”

Like all the other buildings here, the dojo gave the appearance of being a suburban house. This one had a bit more of Japan in the lines and the color choices, but it was, after all, called the dojo and the domain of one professor Inazuma. Regine expected no less.

“There are going to be children underfoot, of course. There are always children here.” Cynara’s – Cya’s – smile was quite wide and pleased with herself. “Mind your step and stay off the mats, and you should be fine.”

Inside, a classroom of pre-teens were going through some basic kata. Cya set down her son; he made a quick bow to the mat and hurried around the class towards the instructor.

Regine brought her gaze away from a small gathering of children with the Aelfgar familiar features to look at this Professor Inazuma.

She had to look twice. Many of Aelfgar’s descendants bore a resemblance – but this one was rather distinctive in many ways. The scar on his left cheek was new, however.

“Daddy!” The child ran up to Inzauma – Leofric, no matter what he was calling himself, that was Leofric Lightning-Blade – and held his arms up. Laughing, Leofric scooped the boy up into a hug.

Regine realized she was staring. More, she realized Cya was watching her and smiling.

“Mags – Professor Sweetflower – is fascinated by them. Viddie and Mai and Kovi, I mean. And then Tilden and Sweetbriar and Tangle. I imagine you have some children like that at Addergoole, too?”

Regine nodded, not truly paying attention to her answer. Three children, over something like sixty years, from the same two parents. She had read theories…

…and Cya was suggesting that Ce’Rilla and Viðrou also had three? Regine’s fingers were itching to study that data.

She smiled, instead. “So this is the dojo.”

“And Professor Inazuma.”

Leofric was making his way over to them, somewhat hampered by his son attempting to wrap around both of Leo’s legs. “I see.”

Cya was smiling. “It’s not as if, say ‘Mike VanderLinden’ is the Professor’s original name. Or ‘Laurel Valerian?’ Feu Drake? Some of our teachers took on pseudonyms.”

“Professor Aegislaw,” Professor Drake offered.

“Him, too. Kheper,” she explained for Regine’s benefit. “They’ve seen the dorms and the dining hall, but the classrooms are all full. I hope you don’t mind being interrupted, Leo.”

“Of course not,” he replied cheerfully. “Class, this is Feu Drake and Director Avonmorea of Addergoole.”

The students all bowed, very properly. Regine nodded politely back to them while Feu Drake executed a lovely Japanese-style bow.

Regine was, she had to admit, reeling. She sought refuge in manners older than the world they were currently living in. “You seem to be doing very well for yourself here, Leofric, jae’Lightning Blade.”

“We are.” He smiled back at her, seemingly unfazed. She wondered if he was doing as Cya had seemingly done, and hiding his fury behind a smile. She wondered what his fury would look like.

“It’s a lovely school. And I’m sure Luke is pleased to see you’re teaching combat?” She did not wish to start another argument, not today. Luckily, Leo seemed to have no interest in arguing at the moment, unlike his crew-mate.

“Oh, that’s just secondary. I’m the math and science teacher.” His smile was entirely disarming.

“Ah.” Her eyebrows shot up. “Very good indeed. Do you, ah, do you find it challenging?”

He shook his head. “Nah, not at all. I love working with kids, and it’s nice to use my ancient PhD for something.”

Regine coughed. “You – ah. I believe I’d forgotten you had a PhD. What in?”

He shrugged dismissively, still cheerful. “Physics with a focus on electromagnetism. Not a lot of reason to remember, the way the world is now. “

“Well…” Regine rallied with effort. ”In this city, here, it seems like it might apply?”

“More than most places. It’s a great city, isn’t it?”

“It’s an amazing city,” Feu Drake agreed. Of course he did. You’d thought he’d thought of the whole thing himself – which was a train of thought to consider.

Regine glanced over at him, then returned her attention to Leo. “It’s been very impressive so far.”

“That’s Cya for you.” Leofric was practically dripping with pride. Regine found her gaze drawn down to the toddler currently attempting to climb “Inazuma’s” leg, then back up to Leofric. What else had she missed?

She smiled politely. “I could only wish all Addergoole’s graduates were this accomplished.”

“That would definitely be interesting.” He smiled affectionately at the child. “I hope you’re being good for the visitors, Kou-kun.”

Sigruko suddenly made a great deal more sense. Regine found herself smiling at the clear parental love. Then the rest of what Leofric had said sank in. “Ah.” She considered every single Addergoole graduate achieving at this level. “Ah.“ She coughed. “Interesting indeed.”

“That reminds me, while you’re here, Director. I was thinking it might be educational for some of our students to visit Addergoole for a couple days. What do you think?”

Regine sputtered, her only consolation that Cynara was sputtering too, and, appearing to think it was a fun noise, so was Kovi. Leofric looked damnably innocent.

“I am… certain it would be educational, and that we could arrange something. I’ll, ah, make certain to send a note.” She nodded to Leofric. “It’s been a pleasure to see you again.” She found she meant it.

“Enjoy the rest of your visit.” He smiled and turned back to the class. Regine turned back to Cynara, uncomfortably on uncertain footing.

“It’s a busy school,” Cynara commented mildly. She gestured out of the dojo and led the way she’d gestured, bringing them back out into a sunny afternoon.

“Your children – your students – seem quite happy and well-adjusted,” Regine was forced to admit. “It would be difficult to realize, standing here, that the world had fallen to pieces out there.”

Just then, three of the children in question darted past. One was wearing kimono and hakama, the obi in a blue-and-yellow plaid that looked quite fetching. Another was in a grey-black-and-white plaid kilt with a grey sweater vest; he was wearing purple knee socks and tie.

The third, Regine noted, was in addition to the grey and pale blue accessories and the long black pants, wearing a collar that was, firstly, very much a collar, and secondly, stripped with the same purples of the kilted student.

“You allow Keepings here? I’m quite surprised.”

“This is me we’re talking about here. I can’t believe someone hasn’t mentioned my penchants to you.”

“You mean your, ah, Kept-of-the-Year?” It had taken a disturbingly long time for Luke and Mike to explain that to her, but they had, indeed, explained it. “It’s a bit surprising, considering how vociferous you are about the Keepings your crew endured.”

Cynara raised her eyebrows. She turned to look Regine flat in the face and her expression blanked. “Howard had a lovely Keeping. I had endurable Keeping. Zita had a necessary Keeping. And we all learned quite a few things from those Keepings, including that it is not the institution that is bad.”

The blankness vanished, replaced by another smile, this one dry and unamused. “Our older students explore mutually-agreed-upon Keepings under the supervision of both students’ Mentors. Cases of abuse are nipped in the bud, and we monitor the physical and emotional health of all involved for every step along the way. We take care of our students, Director.”

There was not so much of an implication as a clear accusation there. Regine studied the woman in front of her, ignoring the smile, crooked and fake. There had never been any warning signs in that Keeping – and, two years after Eris, they had all been looking. Of course, they’d missed the signs in Leofric, searching for violent abuse and overlooking emotional suffocation.

Regine nodded, very carefully. You left us to pick up the pieces.

She had done this woman a disservice. She had, as Feu Drake had suggested, quite a bit to consider.

We take care of our students.

“It is good,” she answered carefully, “Principal Red Doomsday, that you do. There is much to learn from here.”

~

“Well, that went quite well.” Feu Drake seemed quite perky as they left the city.

Regine eyed him sidelong. “You truly believe so?”

The smile faded from his face. “Yes.” He was the more serious Drake she had come to know. “Sometimes, she needs to remember that it is acceptable to be angry. And sometimes, you need to be reminded that you have done things worthy of that anger.”

Regine did not answer, lost in her own considerations of the trip. She had much to consider, indeed.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/961728.html. You can comment here or there.

Venison, a rather short story of Cloverleaf (@inspectrcaracal)

(This one born out of a dream in a rather different way than the last dream-story)

They didn’t hunt venison in or around Cloverleaf.

Oh, sure, sometimes someone snagged a buck for their table, but they did so on the sly, and they didn’t hang trophies.

There wasn’t a law against it — there were very few laws in Cloverleaf against what you could hunt, sell, or eat in terms of food, and they mostly said “don’t hunt or eat sentient beings” and “don’t sell poison or other non-foods as food.” But early on in the city’s life, someone had shown their founder-and-leader a prize trophy buck.

The proud hunter — and everyone around him — had noted the way Cya Red Doomsday went pale and a little green. And then someone took a long look at Leofric, one day in Autumn when his Mask was down.

Word got around, slowly but surely. And nobody hunted venison around Cloverleaf anymore.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/961058.html. You can comment here or there.

Train-of-Thought Cloverleaf Worldbuilding considerations

went like this:

– Cya starts trade routes relatively early on, as soon as she has trade goods in the city
– because of the climate control, Cloverleaf can produce crops not otherwise available that far north.
– Ooh, flour sacks. They have cotton… https://blog.etsy.com/en/2011/feed-sacks-a-sustainable-fabric-history/, http://www.buchanancountyhistory.com/feedsack.php
– (From that thinking about IRL examples skipped to)
– Baby Boxes: http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-22751415, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maternity_package
– Cya does a lot of basic-standard-of-life stuff, I bet they do this
– there are probably unwanted children. State-run creche/adoption center? Probably
– what about abortion? Oh, bog, abortion.
– “Government cheese” and basic rations? Still thinking about details here
– Free hostel-style housing, free xx months in actual housing – not designed to eliminate poverty but to eliminate some of the horrors of poverty
– booming fabrics market as well as the custom-made fashion set by people like our printing-press guy
– And BOOKS! Entertainment! !!
– Spices, spices are very important
– how much of the means of production does our dictator control? How much does she allow to be controlled by the elected government? (how much of a fascism is she okay with and does she slowly relinquish control?)

Side note: I figured out why she runs it as a dictatorship!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/960419.html. You can comment here or there.

An Educational Visit, Part V/?

Written to [personal profile] inventrix‘s request/commission after I Should Visit, Part I, Part II, Part III and Part IV; 1,425 words


Regine’s eyebrows went up. “You have an Addergoole student here?”

Cynara, curse her, smirked. “We have several. However, Deimos was conceived and born outside of Addergoole.”

Regine twisted her lips. Definitely a student of Feu Drake, this one. “He is on our rolls to attend Addergoole next year.”

“His mother didn’t contact you?” Cynara raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps she was waiting until her first two children graduated.”

Regine held Cynara’s gaze. “Why do you think she would do something like that?”

The woman’s smile was sickenly sweet and innocent. “To avoid retribution against her children, of course.”

“And I suppose you told her that I would do such.” She would wipe this insolent speck off the face of the planet, but Luke would be irritated with her.

“If I had, who could blame me? You have threatened my own grandchildren.”

“I did no such thing!” Even as Regine protested, some small, honest part of herself reminded her that she had certainly considered it.

“Director, I was a student of Drake in my youth. I can certainly read into the words spoken. However, I said nothing like that to Eulalia; when we have third-children here, we normally suggest the mother inform Addergoole as soon as possible.”

“So this is common?” Regine gestured around the shabby little dorm room. “You often steal away Addergoole students for your school? No,” she interrupted Drake, “don’t explain for her. I want to know what she thinks she’s doing.”

“I steal no-one.” Cynara’s voice was calm and smug. “I invite parents to send their children here. Some of them, as I do, have children we have borne outside of the confines of Addergoole.” She gestured to her toddler, who was opening and closing the door to the “cottage” with glee.

“If they don’t want to want to send them to Addergoole, they’re under absolutely no obligation to do so. And if they have children who will be going to Addergoole, well, there’s absolutely nothing that says they cannot come here until then. We have several of those in attendance.”

“How dare you?” Regine stepped closer to Cynara. ”The sheer unmitigated gall of you, you insufferable mistake of a child!”

Cynara kept smiling, despite the insults. “If I am a ‘mistake,’ it wasn’t me that made it.” She pulled up a chair and sat down. “Professor Drake, maybe Kovi can show you our garden?”

“I would like that,” Drake agreed solemnly. He murmured Words that Regine was certain he did not mean to be secret, a Working that would allow him to monitor the conversation. She found it irritating – but she had far bigger fish to fry right now.

They waited, in seething silence, while Drake coaxed the toddler out of the room. Regine had several Workings ready; if it came to battle, she did not intend to lose. But she would wait, patiently, rather than have it be said that she put a child at risk.

“So.” Cynara steepled her fingers and looked over them at Regine. “I think we have some misconceptions here. You seem to have come here to judge me or my school. And while that may be your intent, you are in no position to do so.”

Regine opened her mouth. The git did not give her a chance to speak before continuing.

“You are the Director of a school I once attended, and a revered member of a dead society.” She at least did not look pleased at that. “More than that – we are not friends, and we are not allies. If we are careful, we can end today not being enemies, and for all of those others involved, that would be a good thing. However.”

Regine had been accused of not recognizing emotions when they bit her in the face – Mike’s words. However, even she could see the hatred in the face in front of her.

The voice remained entirely calm and stable. As angry as she was, Regine could not help but notice that.

“It is likely,” she began, and it was clear she was beginning something, “that I will forgive you for Dysmas, for the fact that he believed treating me like a thing was the way it was supposed to go. After all, it might not have directly been your fault; Agatha and Delaney taught him that.”

She took a breath. Regine heard something in that breath, and stopped her response.

“It is possible,” Cynara continued, “that I will forgive you for the time my son brought his rapist home for dinner. Or the time my grandsons brought a boy to me so broken, I cannot believe that the administration missed it. Trenton,” she added, before Regine could either ask or place the possibilities. Cynara had two grandsons – that she knew of, she added to herself – two years apart.

She remembered this boy. She nodded slowly, and did not interrupt.

“I may someday forgive you for the disservice you did to Boom as a whole, for years of dismissing us as unstable, as volatile.“ The words were nails the way she said them, hammered home with accuracy and strength. “For cursing us with your derision for being insane, when it was actions you condoned that sent us there.”

She had shifted as she spoke, small movements, animated ones. Now she froze, her gaze pinning Regine.

“I will never forgive you for what was done to Leofric. For watching his insanity for decades. For the fact that you let that bitch shatter him, and left us – broken ourselves, and children – to pick up the pieces.”

She leaned back in her chair. Regine was watching for it this time, waiting for the attack. Instead, she saw the moment that Cynara chose to put the anger away, carefully, as if in a box.

She had a momentary, incongruous memory: the chests Cynara had brought to school, large, clunky, and her only luggage. The sleeker, better-made ones Yoshi and Vidrou had brought, and then the carved boxes their children had pulled behind them like wagons, their wheels forged of steel.

The great-grandchildren had come to school with boxes, too, she realized, so elaborately carved that they looked like works of art.

That was worth considering at another moment. She waited, to see if Cynara was done.

“I spend fifty years–” Her voice was rough, as if she, too, was not sure if she was done or not– “carefully instructing twelve- and thirteen-year olds how to survive emotional abuse and rape without shattering. Teaching them how to lose just enough self to survive, without–”

Regine was certain that if she had not been there, Cynara’s voice would have broken. The woman lifted her chin, paused, and continued. “—without breaking, as their forebears did. I should hope you’ll forgive me, sa’Lady of the Lake, if I built a place with the hope of avoiding that in the future.”

“Your descendants still come to Addergoole.”

They were unwise words, stupid words, but they were the first thing that came to her lips. Why build the school, when all those great-grandchildren would not benefit from it?

“Well,” Cynara’s smile was tired, “if you recall, I did ask to be part of the Addergoole system initially. Since you turned that down – something about volatility, if I recall correctly? – I suppose I’ll just have to make sure as many children get the chance as possible. And besides, they get their first few years here. It’s an 8 to 18 program; that’s a good number of years to establish habits before they go to Addergoole, even if you call them at fourteen.”

Regine didn’t like it, but there was very little she could say to that. Except, she supposed – “And the oaths you swore?”

“Those ridiculous promises you make us all agree to, so that we can leave your place? They’re stupid, you know.” Cynara shook her head. “In this day and age, no child fails to know that fae exist. If you were seeking a level playing field – and what fun would that be, mm? – there are better ways to do it.” She stood up and tilted her head towards the door. “Professor Drake has been tormented by my little demon long enough. Why don’t we go rescue him?”

Regine nodded, rather than argue something where she had no polite way to do so. As they made her way down the stairs, however, Cynara continued, casually. “We don’t break our vows here, stupid though they may be. But you might consider, in due time, why some people’s children seem to know so much more, coming to Addergoole, than others’.”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/961728.html

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A Double-AU Crossover in need of a title, part the second: Intimations

First: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/955989.html

The tension was high in the room, and one of the most deadly people in the world was smiling at Tony. Things were about to get really, really bad.

Tony leaned back against his suit and grinned, his billionaire playboy philanthropist smile, all razzle and a little bit of dazzle. “Oh, you know me.” He flipped his hand sideways, taking in the whole tower and everything else. “I like to fuck everyone.”

He leaned forward before she could attack, which was a miracle in and of itself. She was holding back. Why was she holding back?

Hopefully, the same reason he was.

“And,” he added, in an entirely different voice, one he normally reserved for Pepper and other deadly serious situations, “I always keep my word. Including to my crew, Agent Romanoff. I seem to recall saying that the Avengers are the most important thing in my life — aside from Pepper, because you know she wouldn’t stand for being second to saving the world or anything.” He raised his eyebrows at her. Her move.

She rolled back on her heels, her hands settling at her sides. “You’re saying you’d be in a crew with a Shenera Osera.”

“No.” Tony shook his head, caught her eye, and smirked. “That would be crazy if, say, I was a Shenera Endra.” He flipped his hand negligently. “I’m an Avenger. You’re an Avenger. That makes us crew. The rest is just details.”

Deliberately, Tony threw off the most casual salute he had ever managed — it barely made it within a mile of his face — and turned back to the suit. “Could you pass me the welder?”

She was up against him before he’d finished the sentence. “You don’t like having things handed to you.” Her breath was warm on the back of his neck. In terms of stupid ways to die — well, he’d come up with worse.

“Crew, remember? Besides, Dum-E’s scared of you. You’re very intimidating.”

Natasha handed Tony the spot welder. Her hand lingered there, and her eyes lingered on his.

There were reasons he didn’t like being handed things. Tony held the eye contact. This was important.

“Tony? Tony, I know you’re in there. You’ve been avoiding your mail all week.”

Pepper had the world’s worst timing, or perhaps the world’s best. The door slid open and Pepper came around the corner, something waving in her hand.

Before Tony had had a chance to even think about moving, Romanoff was five feet away, leaning against Dum-E like he wasn’t terrified of her and studying her nails. “What did Tony do this time?”

Pepper was, of course, brilliant. She studied the two of them for a heartbeat, decided it was nothing she had to worry about, and looked directly at Tony, still shaking the letter. Proper paper, folded, he noted, with a wax seal. “Do you know what this is?”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Heavy rag paper, looks like, someone still using the outdated system of the US Postal Service – unless they sent it by Pony Express? The Post Office machines can’t handle wax seals. They didn’t consult Stark Industries on those. That was a Hammer design.”

Pepper didn’t listen. She had quite a bit of skill not listening to Tony. “This,” she hissed, her voice soft, “Is a letter from ‘the Council,’ demanding you explain your actions. Tony, who — or what — is the Council?”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/978324.html

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A Clever? Addergoole Idea

I came up with this idea last night, something a bunch of upperclassmen might come up with ~Yr16-Yr19

Rather than leaving the whole Keeping thing up to hope-and-chance, right after Regine’s orientation, they bring all the new kids into the gym/somewhere for a “meet n’ greet and mentor set-up.” This consists of something like speed dating, where each new kid meets each upperclassman that’s interested in “mentoring new students;” I.e., having a Kept.

The administration allows this on a few caveats, one of which is that part of the meet-and-greet is to allow students to choose several upperclassmen they either DO or DON’T want as their “Mentor”.

All the upperclassmen put in the same information – they’d like x, y, and z, they don’t want A, b, or c Kept. Then a computer program runs random numbers.

If a “want” matches up, that’s the most likely pairing. “Don’t wants” won’t be paired. Obviously, not every upperclassmen will get a Kept. But every new student WILL get a Keeper.

All nice and tidy and SO MANY stories I could write off of this

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Down, Down, Down, a continuation of Doug for Patreon – open to everyone!

“Down, Down, Down” has been posted here. It comes after the second portion of Into the History of Addergoole, and delves into the plotline of Addergoole: Year 9.

Doug was back in a war zone. They were in the bowels of Addergoole, battling creatures that would not see reason. They’d brought Agmund down with them — three of Doug’s cy’ree, two of Luke’s, and two of Agmund’s were guarding the rear, in case anything got through — but these creatures seemed impervious to Panida Workings. Just in case, they’d tried Intinn and Tlacatl. Nothing.


A Patronage of just $1/month will let you read all Patron-only posts! Check it out!

Edit: This is open for everyone! I was thinking that Fox Hunt was my free post for last month – and it wasn’t! So Fox Hunt’s requested continuation will be my Patrons-only short short fic for the month, and this is my free fic. Backwards!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/957840.html. You can comment here or there.