Written to an anonymous prompt, with nods to kelkyag’s prompt.
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âEvangeline, what is WRONG with your sugar?â
There were too many people in Evaâs kitchen.
âAunt Eva, where do you keep your star anise?â
âWhat do you need star anise for, Bellamy Jane?â
âHer middle name isn’t JaneâŚâ Continue reading
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Abigail pulled her feet back with a yelp. âOkay, okay we need higher ground. Come on, maybe this one has a food court on the second floor. We can climb on a table.â
She hadnât even gotten the words out when the cleaner Liv was tugging her – not towards the food court but up onto a bench. âHere. This should get us out of the water for a minute. And we can see the map from here.â She pointed at the dim map, no longer lit-up from within but still showing proudly things like the food court. âI still feel like if we could just get into Rue 21, maybe we could find our way back to the first mall. And if we could find that, maybe they could help us find our way home. One home, all the homes. Anything.â
âThe first mall?â asked dirty-Liv sharply. âYou donât mean the place with that awful store that bought regrets, do you? Urrgh. Something about that place was just creepy. Made my skin crawl. And then there was that bookstoreâŚâ Continue reading
To Lilfluff’s Prompt: this is set in the immediate post-war era in my Reiassan setting. The Calenyena have, after centuries of war, finally conquered the Bitrani.Â
And now they need to deal with that conquered land.
âWhat did I do to offend the gods, the engineers, and the Empress?â Â Tetatelai Mapmaker grumbled at her goat, her partner, and the world in general. Â âWhose boots did I piss in, whose tent did I stumble against, what city did I misspell?â
âYou know,â Openpennait Sword-bearer raised his aristocratic eyebrows at her. Â âSome people would take this as an honor. Â You are in charge of adding new territories to the Empressâ maps. Â Thatâs an impressive duty.â Continue reading
First:Â Funeral
Previous:Â Naked, Dead People, Etc.
He looked her over for a minute, almost as if he hadnât seen her before. Â Then he closed his eyes and went still. Â âDaughter of Claudia, the lawyer said. Â In the fae style. Â But thatâs not what you said, is it? Â Daughter of Aonghus, himself the son of SlĂĄine. Â I was distracted at the time. Â Thatâs the only excuse. Â Thatâs an interesting lineage you have there.â Â He opened his eyes again. Â âClaudia, Named simply The Free, who was that and more, wild and calm, and absolutely deadly when crossed. Â Aonghus. The White Wolf. Â Oh, did he cause trouble in the winter.â Â His lips curled. Â âYes. Â I know about your family. Â I knew SlĂĄine, too, Life-or-Death. Â You come by your violent tendencies honestly, Senga Monmartin. Â And what do they call you?â
Senga had not heard her familyâs Names spoken in decades, and she hadnât heard them spoken like that – with cautious reverence – since theyâd died. Â âThey call me Monmartin,â she answered dryly, and waved her hand before he could complain that that hadnât been what he meant. Â âItâs not actually my last name. Â They call me War, Â but the full name is Swallow on the Mountain of War.â
âMon-martin,â he murmured. Â âThatâs quite a mouthful of a Name.â
âMy Mentor had – has – a leaning towards the poetic and a flair for the dramatic.  It was supposed to be Swallow of  War, but she couldnât resist the chance to get the Mon part in there.â Continue reading
Crossover: Dr. House, Faerie Apocalypse. I cannot write Dr. Cuddy, so the third person here is a vague unnamed person.
âDr. House, I’d like to introduce our new diagnostic machine, Melody Redfern. Â Melody, Dr. House.â
âOh, come on,âHouse scoffed. Â âYou keep trying to replace me, and you know it’s futile.. Face it,âhe sneered, you’re stuck with me. Â Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go stick a needle in a teenager’s spine.â
âNo, House, you misunderstood. Â Melody isn’t here to replace you. Â She’s here to replace the ridiculously overpriced tests you keep ordering.â
“What’s she going to do?â. His gaze raked over the young woman, taking in her floral skirt and silver bracelets. Â âRead their tea leaves?â
âNow that you mention itâŚâ Melody’s voice matched her appearance: sweet and thin. Continue reading
First:Â A New World
Joaon. The letter shapes, the strange way he ended certain letters – she could not read this, not yet, but she could recognize his handwriting, even in a script that had changed immensely.
She needed. Â Well, she needed potions. Â She needed a whole bunch of potions.
It was time to see what this pretend-workroom had been stocked with.
And what this pretend-cauldron was going to do.
She started going through the cupboards, one through one. Â All of them were labelled in this strange script – not in her handwriting, or in Joaonâs – but they were also labelled right after that in her own language. Â There she was, tongue-of-the-maiden and kisses-on-eyebrows, her favorite flowers. Â They had grown in the rooftop gardens, once upon a time. Â But if she was âforbiddenâ to go up there, it was unlikely anyone had maintained them. Â She would have to find all the right ingredients again. Continue reading
First:Â Slaves, School
Previous:Â Collar Rapport!Â
Cataleb stormed off, leaving Jefshan and Desmond to share an amused glance.
âWell, I suppose that takes care of that problem for the moment.â Jefshan shrugged eloquently. âLetâs see if we can get an answer out of Kayay, shall we?â
Desmond held back so that Jefshan could go ahead of him. âThatâs going to have to be your job; Kayay doesnât like me.â
âOh, Kayâs just jealous because you took the longest on the stairs. Itâs a nice distinction, but not one that they need to get all bent out of shape about.â
âI just – well. I just kept climbing.â Desmond didnât know if he should be proud or abashed or some combination thereof about the whole thing. He wanted to be proud – but he was still a little frustrated that he hadnât made it further. âWe kept climbing. Until it wasnât safe anymore, and then we didnât have any further to go.â
Jefshan shot him an odd look. âWe. Youâre really pretty well bonded with your collar, arenât you?â Continue reading
Originally posted April 15, 2012.Â
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“So what do I do?” He couldn’t help but betray his common roots, she knew, or his American upbringing, but here and now, it rankled.
Originally written March 8, 2012, as a belated birthday present for my mother. Â Itâs about a magical moment.
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The forest was still that day.
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Their walk took them further and further out past the stem of Aereaxera , past dozens and dozens of the little hezzai-ai and several other fascinating creatures. Â Cartwright stopped three times to gather plant bundles, which he hung off of his pack till he began to look like a sort of walking herbery.
Written to kelkyag‘s prompt.Â
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She had a lot of earth to work with.
Estella had walked half a day in each direction and not seen another living human.
Sheâd found more than a few who werenât alive anymore, and done what she could for them as she went, wondering all the while why she had been left alive when nobody else seemed to have.
The radio made static and sometimes a whimper, but nothing she could consider company.  The power was still running, more or less, but the TV was showing Please Standby on all stations and the internet – well, it was there, but she found only bots on twitter and only advertisements on Facebook.  Reddit was a ghost town. Imgurâs last photos were of The Event – dozens, hundreds of photos, and then nothing.  Not even a downvote. Continue reading