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February is World Building Month. Day Nineteen: Fae Apoc

[personal profile] piratekitten has declared February world-building month.

Every day in February, I will answer one question about any one of my settings.

The question post is here, please feel free to add more questions!

The ninteenth question comes from [personal profile] rix_scaedu and is for the Faerie Apocalypse

What happens to someone who’s Changed and cannot find or persuade an adult to Mentor them?


I… do not know. I honestly don’t.

There are certainly kids like Reegan in these two stories:
http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/411653.html
http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/588052.html
who have trouble finding a Mentor – because their family or they themselves are disliked, because there are no older fae in the area, because they Change out of a line that hasn’t had a Change in long enough that nobody knows what to do, or because they Change away from anyone or everyone.

And I suppose it’s possible, especially a couple centuries pre-apocalypse or immediately post-apoc, when the human population and thus the fae population are so thinly spread, that a fae child thus Changed could go unnoticed.

If so, it is almost impossible (unless they are sequestered in a tower full of fae books) that they will develop any use of Words – and that is for the better, because without guidance, Workings can quickly become disastrous.

Without a Mentor to guide them into learning to Mask, they are likely to stick out like a sore thumb. They will either become a mythic figure, a monster, a freak (assuming enough of a Change to stick out, of course) – or they will be locked up, studied, stared at.

Their innate, if mild, will probably be entirely usable and controllable with practice. If they have a more excessive power – pyrokinesis, for instance, or storm-calling – they are likely to come back to “strange Change” above, to bringing way too much attention to themselves.

It’s likely, pre- or post-apoc, that they will eventually bring enough attention to themselves inadvertently, one way or another, and some fae will find them.

Then the question becomes: what are the intentions of that fae?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/672382.html. You can comment here or there.

February is World Building Month. Day Eleven: Addergoole

[personal profile] piratekitten has declared February world-building month.

Every day in February, I will answer one question about any one of my settings.

The question post is here, please feel free to add more questions!

The eleventh question comes from [personal profile] anke and is for Addergoole.

How did the parents of the first generation of Addergoole students justify signing up their daughters for forced pregnancies?


So, I posted this to Twitter in musing about it, and Sky and Cluudle had some possible justifications, which I will post below.

The short version is: It really depends on the parent.

Some of them simply didn’t care, especially some of the men. They were being well-paid to deposit a sperm and walk away after the naming ritual; some of the women were offered better compensation to do something similar after nine months.

Some of them didn’t have a choice; they were collared and had been provided to the project by their Keeper – one example in particular is Ambrus.

Aelfgar, for his case, likes grandkids, and because as far as he’s concerned all his kids are gay (he’s wrong), this seemed like a way of ensuring some grandchildren.

Some of them weren’t thinking about daughters at all, they were thinking about sons.

In a more overarching sense: this was not sold as forced pregnancy. This was sold as any number of things, depending on the target: a program for the education and betterment of half-breeds, in a world which despised them; an experiment in a more targeted form of Mentoring; the foundation blocks for the salvation of the world when the Returned Gods came back. It was easy to sell it as these things, because it was all of them.

And, as is said by one set of parents in a story I need to finish, it’s easier to think in the abstract than when you’re looking at your eleven-year-old daughter. When the child is a concept, that’s one thing. When she’s sixteen and the Director’s letter arrives, that’s something else entirely.

And then there are all the reasons Sky and Cluudle came up with, which I’m willing to agree were probably valid for at least one person each:

“I got pregnant during my Keeping.”

“Didn’t really think about it.”

“I was starving.” [Lyn: This one was rather common. Regine offered a lot of money to the mothers]

“Being pregnant is a beautiful thing.”

“The work is important.”

“I trust these people.”

“Better she have children with our kind now than fall for a human later.”

“It’s not like she needs to raise them. It’s a small price to pay for what they’re offering (money/knowledge/etc.).”

“It’s a small price to pay for years of protection. Have you heard what the Nedetakaei are doing?”

“Our race is dying.” “The apocalypse is coming, I have to do something.” “I was drunk.” “I was mind controlled.” [the latter was very rare, but it did happen, more commonly to fathers than mothers].

“People had kids at this age in my day.” [This is actually part of Regine’s argument, too.

“She’s going to have kids eventually. Better with people that can handle her powers and the children’s.”

“I was on my third kid at that age /and/ I was married.”

“It’s for science.”

“A purebreed is talking to me aaaaaaaaaaaaah I’m so flustered.”

“Maybe this way she can find a Keeper or Kept around her own age. I hate how the older fae prey on the young.”

“It’s not rape if it’s your Keeper.”

And for after-the-fact justifications:

“I can barely handle this kid now. What am I going to do when she Changes? The school can manage better.”

“There’s no other way a half breed like her will find a husband.”

“It’s a half breed, why would I care what happens to it?”

“This is the best a half breed could hope for, a good education and a chance to breed pure.”

“This is the only person who has offered to get her a Mentor.”

“Anything is better than her not Changing at all and dying of old age.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/670384.html. You can comment here or there.

What, He’s Got Two Legs (probably), a story of Fae Apoc for the Giraffe Call

This is to [personal profile] librarygeek‘s prompt here to my February Giraffe Call.

Faerie Apocalypse has a landing page here, although these are new characters.

Short summary of the setting: there is magic and people who can use magic (modern fantasy, and then post-apoc fantasy after, well, the apoc). The apoc takes place when “returned gods,” powerful fae, come back from Elleheim, “elf-home.”

This is placed somewhere in the middle of the apocalypse.


“I don’t think we can, exactly, call him ‘Old Man Winter.'”

Giselle was feeling argumentative. Of course, Giselle was often feeling argumentative.

Ansel was less interested in the nits and picks of the situation. “I don’t give a fig what we call him – if it’s a him at all. What I want is for him to either cut it out or pick up a shovel.”

“…because he might be a more universal weather- what?” Giselle blinked.

Ansel pulled on his second pair of wool socks. “If he’s determined to layer our city in more snow than it normally sees in a decade, then he ought to come down here and shovel with us.”

“Our city is being besieged by what is very likely a returned god – although the term ‘god’ is, of course, problematic – a returned fae from Elleheim – who is burying the city and surrounding county in feet, feet of snow, and you want him to shovel?”

“Well.” Ansel pulled his boots on and laced them firmly. “I’m from Buffalo, remember? One, Buffalo is being attacked by Czernobog, who’s a bit more destructive than ‘Old Possibly-a-Man Winter’ up there. And two? Feet of snow are normal.”

“So what are you going to do? Walk up to a god and ask him to shovel?”

“He’s got two legs, doesn’t he?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/669191.html. You can comment here or there.

Outnumbered

To [personal profile] eseme‘s prompt to my January orig-fic card. This fills the “Outnumbered” slot.

Nila, Tros, Allan and Susan are part of my Fae Apoc setting; its landing page is here.

They’ve shown up in Hey you Kids get off my lawn!, Leaving Town, A New Flower


“Asset count.” Nila stepped back against the cliff, putting her children behind her.

“We have a cliff,” Allan offered. “And you have your spear and your gun and Tros has his sword and knife. And I have a stick.”

“Good, kiddo. And they have -”

“Twelve people and a truck.”

“Very good. Now, can you see anyplace for you and your sister to hide?”

“There’s this little cave back here.”

“Atta boy. Take Susan, there you go.” She made sure her kids were wiggled into the cave, then looked over at Tros. “Well.”

“I promised to help protect your kids and watch your back. These people don’t look like they’ll be nice to your kids.” He was trying to sound brave, but she could see the way his knuckles were turning white as he gripped his sword.

“This wasn’t in the deal. I’ll release you from your promise, if you want.”

“No.” His retort was sharp. “I promised. And you healed me. So… what’ve we got?”

“A cliff, a sword, and two small children. And they’re coming.”

“Right. Back against the cave and here we go.” She started chanting. When in doubt, her Mentor had taught her, hit them as hard as you could before they knew you had a fist.

Nila was a healer and a gardener; Tros was a wood- and stone-worker, an artist. Neither of them had trained primarily in combat. The team in front of them looked paramilitary, headed by someone who wasn’t bothering to Mask, and with two other obvious fae in the team.

Healers could do some pretty terrifying things with bodies, and with two people Working wood in their group, they had quite a bit of control of the fae-poisons of hawthorn and rowan.

The hedge grew up around their attackers in a split second, and kept growing, taller and tighter and most of all thornier. Blood spurting from the attackers fed the hedge, which only grew hungrier.

It didn’t stop them all, of course, and more seemed to keep coming, attack after attack. But Tros was better with the sword than Nila had expected, and she was getting very good at cutting the enemy’s feet out from under them.

“You cheat.” The soldier was missing half of his body, but it didn’t stop him from fighting. Nila danced out of his way and poked at him with Allan’s stick.

“We were outnumbered six to one. Now… we’re not.”

~*~

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/668520.html. You can comment here or there.

Dance the Dance

This is to [personal profile] anke‘s prompt here to my February Giraffe Call.

Addergoole, Year 15 – directly after Bully for You.

Addergoole has a landing page here.


“He’s a bully, Kelse. And there’s no reason you should be putting up with bullies again.”

“Cy-y-y.”

“A bully, what?” Lor looked back at the girl. “Nah, I don’t beat people up. But Kelsey here doesn’t mind bring my food, does he?”

A bully? Really? What were they, in elementary school?

“Cy, you can’t do this. You can’t keep fighting every time anyone is a jerk to me. Remember what happened back in Mayville?”

“You’re not doing your brother any favors, you know, Cy.” Lor leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I mean, who wants to know his little sister had to defend him?”

“I’m two years older than he is!”

“Oh, and that makes it better, hunh? Look, just run along and leave us alone; Kelsey and I are getting along fine.”

“I think there’s something wrong with your hearing, new boy. I said I challenge you.

“She’s well within her rights.” Suddenly the short guy – Luke, that was his name, security, wasn’t he? And the gym teacher. Lor hadn’t broken any rules; he didn’t, usually. “If the woman is going to challenge you, Lor, you can either accept or decline.”

“So I decline.” He shrugged. “I don’t fight girls.”

“Of course you don’t.” He was beginning to get the feeling the gym teacher didn’t like him. “But what did you say? Oh. You’re not going to do yourself any favors if you’re afraid to fight a girl.”

“Nobody’s going to look at me sideways for that. Look at her. She’s tiny.”

“Of course you could beat her. But if you don’t… well, what’s that look like?”

“Shit, you people really want me to fight a girl, don’t you? Okay, I’ve got this.” Lor stretched. “Where and when, little girl?”

“And don’t forget terms.” Luke was so helpful.

“And, sure, what are your terms?” Lor was amused. “This is a pretty silly dance for me to just knock her to the floor, you know.”

“I know. But this is the way we dance, here in Addergoole.”

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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/668092.html. You can comment here or there.

A selection of Addergoole microbits for the Giraffe Call

So, I was looking at [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith‘s prompt here, and I asked Twitter for some ideas and then um you ended up with four microficlets.

One is Canon, Two could be, Three Might be, and Four is a definite AU.

All are Addergoole.

One

Luke was flapping in Regine’s office. Again. She set aside her papers and regarded her crewmate.

“Have you seen the reports?”

“I’ve seen the films.”

“Not those.” She tilted her head at a small pile of mostly-hand-written notes. “Those are from Williamsburg; the stack under them is from the former Washington State. Places whose survival has been smoother because of the presence of Addergoole graduates.”

She gestured at another pile. “These are the fatality figures for one hundred selected areas. Ten of them have active Addergoole graduates.

“Not to mention,” of course, “the survival rates of our graduates vs. that of the general population.”

Luke flapped again, but Regine was unfazed. “We are doing good here, Luca. We continue to do good for the world and for our students.”

Two

“You just have to learn to survive without him. It’s a one-day-at-a-time process, but you can do it.”

The matron was very kind. Keven appreciated her kindness, at the same time as he wanted to rip out her lying tongue. It was quite a contradiction, but, then again, this whole place was a contradiction.

“I’m bound to him.” He’d explained before. He’d explained every day he was in this place. “He’s my Keeper and he owns me. Without his say-so, I can’t just ‘let go.'”

“I know you think that, but it’s just a process of brainwashing that we can reverse. But you have to be willing.”

In the room next door, someone screamed. Keven felt like joining them.

Three

“It’s always better to be honest.”

The Addergoole South project wasn’t an official branch of the school, yet, but there were students they could pull in, and they were hoping for official accreditation soon –

    “It’s always better to be honest” was one of their main tenants, and one they had built right into the walls and the wards of the school.

    “Teacher? I don’t think I should have to learn this. It’s boring and, besides, I’m only going to be a despot when I graduate.”

    “No, Morley. I’m not interested in wearing your collar. You smell like a dead bat.”

    “…and that’s how we’ve set up the breeding program for maximum efficacy and best results. We got the idea out of a science fiction novel…”


– soon. As soon as they had the wrinkles worked out.

Four

Luke burst into the room, wings flaring and sword in his hand. “Put down the girl.”

Angus looked up at the Mara, then back down to his Kept. “…what?”

“Don’t act stupid, boy, you do well enough without acting. Giada, come here, be a good girl. Angus, you’re going to release her now.”

“…but I’m happy.”

“…but I didn’t do anything wrong to her.”

“That’s not what the tapes show. After what you did to her in the shower-“

“You were watching me in the shower?” The tiny girl shoved Luke and darted back to her Keeper. “Angus! Angus, he was watching me. In the shower.

“I’m always watching everyone.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/667301.html. You can comment here or there.

Fuzzy on the Details, a random Drabble

So, I’m playing with the Roster and I said to myself, “who Keeps him, if anyone? Well, Janoah could. Now, I wonder how that went?”

So I wrote this.

The girl was petting him.

Ankara was… surprisingly okay with this.

She had a name. Janoah. Her friends – her Crew, that was the word – had used it. She had a name and, as far as Ankara could figure out, she Owned him now.

Ankara knew about Owning, although he was still a little fuzzy – ha, fuzzy; he’d turned into a fecking angora-rabbit-thing overnight – on the details, and he was very fecking fuzzy on how the mute girl had managed to Keep him.

But Kept and collared he was, and the girl was petting him. Life was pretty good.

Janoah has showed up before here; Ankara, here and here; this story is three years later for Janoah and four years earlier for Ankara.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/666002.html. You can comment here or there.

Planning

This is to [personal profile] rix_scaedu‘s prompt here to my February Giraffe Call.

Regine and Luca are characters in Addergoole.

Warning: cold bitch


Year 43 of the Addergoole School; 26 years after the Apocalypse began

A month and a half – six weeks and three days – into the school year was a perfect time to review genetic data, and thus Regine sat in her office, studying her charts and lists.

By this point in the year, almost all of the new students had Changed and, via Dr. Caitrin’s extensive notes, Regine was placing the children in their genealogies.

“Fascinating. Wings again.” She made a note on the print-out, not so much old-fashioned anymore as back around again, and then another in her notebook. “And antlers, there, of course.” Of course. It would be interesting to see how dilute Aelfgar’s line had to be to avoid some sort of head decoration – if, of course, it ever got diluted with non-horned lines. There had been the one, but that was a special circumstance… And there, more wings.

This whole process would be far more convenient if she could simply tell the subjects who to breed with. Or, better yet, remove the subjects from it altogether except as egg and sperm donors. It was likely she could find plenty of willing surrogate mothers, and the creche would allow her standardized upbringing.

There were times when the Law was simply inconvenient to the progress of science.

There were, of course, things she could do. Manipulation was not something she excelled at, but she definitely had a grasp on bribery, and, in this day in age, anyone was susceptible to bribery. She made a few notes; not everyone was paired off yet. There were a few pairings that would be beneficial this year. If she couldn’t make them happen, perhaps Luca or Michael could.

Her door slammed open; if Regine believed in coincidence, it would have been an interesting one that Luca Hunting-Hawk was standing there.

Continued

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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/664900.html. You can comment here or there.

Through Biology, two drabbles

These are to [personal profile] thnidu‘s prompt here to my February Giraffe Call.

Addergoole/Fae Apoc Post-apocalypse (probably), and Science!

Addergoole has a landing page here; Faerie Apocalypse has a landing page here;

Science! has a landing page here.


“It’s not like it’s hard.” The man in the big armchair shrugged. He was, of course, smirking. “The difficult part isn’t spreading the seed, it’s waiting until it’s sprouted and cultivating it properly.”

The woman – standing, though she’d been offered a chair – was not smiling. She was, indeed, contriving to give the impression that she’d never smiled. “You speak of this like it’s agriculture.”

“Well, in a sense, isn’t it? I am farming myself a nation of followers, an army of those who will be loyal to me and mine. It’s slow, but I will rule the world.”


“They’re seeds.” Cara didn’t so much look unimpressed as give off a complete air of dis-impression. “Tiny seeds.”

Seeds were bad. Seeds could lead to a situation like Jay. Better to cut this off in the bud, as it were.

Gabrielle, Dr. Deloach, was not going to be cut. “They’re the start of something new. It’s a mood-changing plant-”

“Like tobacco?”

“Oh, no, nothing that mild. This is an edible, a carrot hybrid. It makes people susceptible to suggestion, especially in certain sequences.” Dr. Deloach smiled. “Conveniently, my father owns a broadcast station & my mother’s a caterer.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/664493.html. You can comment here or there.

Beginning of a character-bloodline-profile

Mostly for my own entertainment

Joachim
Wiki Page

Joachim is Kept his first year by a boy, Yisachar, which isn’t all that bad but leaves him sort of flailing around his second year.

He’s got a crew, mostly for hanging-out purposes and because it’s what you do, but he doesn’t stay close to them. They’re friends, not FRIENDS.

His third year, he ends up making a deal with a Cohort-mate, Kandace, for his first kid (her second). They have a son, who Joachim names Ayman, “blessed.”

His fourth year, at the urging of his Mentor, Professor Solomon, Joachim Keeps a first-year student, June. This is Year 17; around them the world is ending. Seanán is born at the end of Year 17.

Joachim has a bad time of it out in the world; he survives a year before being felled down by a monster. Three cy’Luca sorts from Addergoole avenge him, but they have no healer with him.

Ayman
Ayman is raised by his mother, who finds/helps create one of the fae-friendly compounds on the west coast. He goes to school in the year 34, where he is promptly Kept by the fourth-year student Aaricia. As is becoming more common, Aaricia chooses to stay an extra year, and Ayman stays under the collar until the end of his second year.

They have one child, part-way into his second year, Roxanne. Ayman spends his third year and fourth year hiding, not doing much and trying to stay out of trouble, and in his fifth year, Keeps Sonja.

He does his best to be good to her, and sticks around the Village afterwards until she graduates – both to learn more skills and to, when she leaves, help her raise her children. They have one son together, Dierck.

Seanán

Seanán goes to school in Year 36, having grown up in the Village. Nobody can Keep him and, indeed, nobody can stop him. His first two years are constant fights and near-constant Challenges.

It takes ’til his third year for someone to explain to him about the grad requirements, and that makes things even worse. He’s a creep and a jerk through most of that year, managing, somehow, to impregnate a 37th-Cohort girl named Fila.

He names their daughter Filly and wants nothing to do with her. His fourth year, he is shanghaied by seven of his classmates into a collar for a 39th-Cohort girl, Dilys. He leaves the school woobie-headed and not sure what to do with his life, but first he fathers a son, Phillip, on Dilys.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/663521.html. You can comment here or there.