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Running in the Bear Empire – a beginning of a story

For Rowyn.

🐻

Someone was on her trail.

Deline knew it.  She could feel it in the prickle on the back of her neck, the way that sometimes it seemed like there was an extra shadow to her shadow, the unsettled feeling that left her leaving her bed in the middle of the night and hitting the road again.

She had been moving for days – no, weeks.  She had left Dekleg behind more than five days ago, and with it the laws that she’d broken.  And Dekleg did not talk to the Elherion Empire, nor the Empire to Dekleg, much less exchange prisoners.  Deline was not even sure if they had any laws in common – which, since she’d spent the last ten years before Dekleg in the Empire, was how she’d gotten in trouble in the first place.

But someone was tracking her, and she didn’t imagine they were doing it to ask her to work for them or to shake her hand for the fine things she’d done in deep Dekleg, where she had dealt with some frankly horrible things. Continue reading

Chasing Myths – a Fae Apoc story for Patreon

The Council had Geraldine chasing fairy tales and urban legends.

There were two things Geraldine knew without a doubt about the High Council of the Shenera Endraee.

The first was that they were immensely slow to change, change happening more often because a Council member had been overthrown (which occurred perhaps twice a millennium) than because they’d agreed to it as a group.

The second was that they were very, very attached to their regulations. Continue reading

A New Lease on Life

Written to @lilfluff’s prompt 

Leaving home for a weekend and returning to find your home and entire neighborhood has been replaced.

🏡

“My house is gone!”

Ed Lawton was furious.  He slammed his fist down on the counter, leaned forward, and got as close to the clerk as he could.  

The New Lease on Life clerk seemed entirely unbothered by this.  While Ed wasn’t going to give an inch, he found himself wondering if the woman was one of the new android models he’d been hearing about.  

Or maybe she just heard this a lot.  “The brochure said ‘Get away from it all.’ sir.  And you have, indeed, gotten away from it all.” Continue reading

Patreon Posts!

Originally posted  March 9th, 2011.

⛏️ 

They were building it anew.

There hadn’t been much left after the devastation, and the city they’d lived in had been a stinking, rotten, fetid ruin. Better to leave it to the dead and dying, better to leave the diseases to work their course. Those of them who could walk, who could carry a pack, who wanted to live, had banded together and headed for the hills.

Read On


Nobody in the Fae Apoc really knows what’s going on, do they…?

📝

The Grigori would not listen to her.

Natela was not particularly surprised.  For one, the Grigori rarely listened to anyone who was not Grigori, and although she had their blood, she was not of them, but by their standards.

Open to all Patrons!


This story takes place 50 years past the original story, nearly 40 years after the apocalypse, after the Retirement stories.

👻

Kailani and Rozen were being followed.

Not exactly followed — more like followed-in-front-of — and not by a person or people.  Rozen would have been able to deal with people.

Open to All Patrons!

The Trouble With Assignments….

After The Trouble With Chickens… and The Trouble With Theories…, without which this story won’t make much sense. 

🐣

The Lost Buildings encompassed what had once been the pride of the University.  They were tall and glorious, stately, and done in the Pecerin style of architecture that nobody seemed to be able to imitate anymore.

(Personally, Trenner thought it had something to do with the amount of opium Pecerin and her disciples had partaken of, but that had gotten her a few too many Hate Points in her architecture elective.) Continue reading

The Magic Tree

Written to @InspectorCaracal’s prompt, also the title of this piece. 

🌳

The tree stood in the middle of a blasted wasteland, and the one thing that everyone agreed on was that it was magic.

Whether it had been put up by one of the last mages in the great wars as a way to heal the wasteland, or whether its creation had formed the wasteland, nobody could agree.  Whether it was a blessing or a menace, no two people concurred on.  And thus there were two paths through the wasteland, one that ran right next to the tree, and the other which wandered almost a mile away to avoid it.

The tree itself loomed over its own oasis, a small circle of greenery in the middle of an otherwise lifeless expanse.  It was easily over thirty feet wide at the base, and it loomed two hundred feet in the air.  And yet its lowest branches were easily reachable from the ground.  Continue reading

A New World: Memories

First: A New World
Previous: 
The Letter

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I am still loyal.

Kael sniffled.  Joaon had been loyal to her for so long – and to learn how long he had been here, without her, and still loyal, still so desperately loyal — and here he was, in this world.

She put the potion to one side and sniffed a few of her ingredients.  She had questions, and only a few of them she’d find standing in the middle of her potions-workshop, this fairly good imitation of her workshop.

She walked slowly down the back stairs, her fingers trailing along the block walls.  How much work she’d put into this place.  In her day, only someone like her — or like Carrenonna — could make a building like this.

She remembered this block, how she had poured the potion for it while splashing something at an attacker, something they thought was acid.  It had blinded them, yes, but only for an hour, while it showed them visions of another world, a world in which they had not made the choices they had.

She’d managed to keep that one from falling off the edge of the tower, and Joaon had walked them, unresisting, down to the dungeon.

The dungeon was easy enough to escape from, built that way.  Kael wondered what it looked like now.

Well, that, at least, she could find out.  She paused where there had been a trap and saw the letters written in — what was that, some sort of ink visible only to her eyes?  It seemed to glow, and yet if she looked at it from her peripheral vision, it was gone.  An interesting potion!  

This place is only some of what it once was.  Be careful, be mindful.  I hope it can be restored.

“Interesting.”  The handwriting was, once again, Joaon’s.  She wondered if he had left messages all over this building and, if so, if anyone else had intercepted them.

She knelt down and ran her fingers over the location of the trap.  It had been disarmed, but not removed, and it had been done so awkwardly, not by a skilled trap-finder but possibly by someone panicked after having fallen into it.  Not Joaon, then.  He had found too many of her traps the hard way, back when her sense of humor was more quirky than kind.

She could activate it, but it would take several potions and a few days of work.  There were other things she could be doing in the meantime.

She kept going down the stairs, getting a feel for what her home had become.

“Where is that girl…”  She could hear him through the wall.  Oh, the reception room.  She opened the hidden doorway, wondering if – yes, bless Joaon, he had kept the curtains, the way the door looked like one more window, making the passage truly secret.  

“I swear,” Mr. Vibius was muttering, “something about the look, or the girl, or something.  Every time we get a new one of those, they just hare off in twenty minutes.  And then I have to find another one who has the look, and who can make it look believable when they-”

Kale stepped out around the curtains. “You called for me?”

She didn’t bother with what he called her Begone you Pesky Mortals look, because he had no reason to fear her – yet.  Instead, she tried something she had not tried in a very long time, even before she fell into a millenium-long sleep.  She tried a coy look.

He looked nervous.  She probably needed to work on that look a little bit. “Where did you come from?  You can’t just pop up on people like that!”

“Oh, it’s this curtain.” She smiled broadly at him. “This is a lovely room here,” she looked around.  Her Reception Room looked much the same as it had when she last left it.  The long, thick curtains covered everything except two windows, giving the impression that all the curtains covered the same sort of view out onto – well, onto a city, now.  “I was exploring the building, as I had no tourists at the moment.  There’s a lovely back staircase, if we wanted to sneak up on someone at some time, or if someone needed to get to the potions room in a hurry.”

“Well, don’t sneak up on me.  You’ll give me a heart attack that way!”

As if she was reading it, she heard under his words:

I swear, all the Kaels are creepy, but this one is something else again.  

“I’m sorry, Mr. Vibius.”  She really didn’t do well with apologetic expressions.  She was going to have to work on that.  “You were looking for me?”

“Oh, well, I didn’t know what you were doing, and it looks like we have another group coming in.  How did the first one go?”

“I don’t really know how to judge that,” she demurred.  

“Well, if they want to stop in the gift shop, they’ve done well.  If they want to come back, they’ve done well.  This place doesn’t run on smiles and good feelings and your potion fumes, you know.”

Well, technically, it runs on a behest, but I don’t run on smiles.  

“Of course.  Tell me, when would be a good time for me to go off downtown? I have a couple errands I didn’t get to run this morning…?”

“What?  Your lunch break, of course.  Which isn’t for two more hours.  Now get back upstairs and look creepy, and make sure to suggest that they go to the gift shop.  That’s on the fourth floor,” he offered helpfully.  “We wanted to put it down here, but the behest said there was only so much we could do, and the fourth floor was empty, so.”

“Fourth floor.”  She nodded.  She could look at that on her way back up to her potions lab.  She had never seen a gift shop before.

 
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Next: Made in the Itikem Peninsula 

Better World

Written to @shutsumon’s prompt (or at least as much as I remembered it):

a secret revealed only by blending blood and moonlight

🌕

The stone was a gate.

Everyone knew it was a gate; it had been passed down from generation to generation since Before the Smash.

The thing was, nobody knew how to open it.  It was suppose to go to a better place, a safer place, a place without the monsters and demons, the wild storms and the poisonous animals. But whatever had opened the gate had been lost, taken through with it. Continue reading

Self-indulgent beginning: Purchase Negotiation

Leander looks a bit like a a Pitch Black-era Vin Diesel in my head.

This is just fluff fun based on something that’s been bouncing around in my head for a while.


“I don’t do guys.”

Leander was not exactly in a position to set terms.

He was wearing, in order of importance, a thick steel collar, a much thinner silver collar, shackles pinning his wrists to a heavy leather belt, and ankle restraints with just enough chain to be annoying.  Continue reading

Meet in the Middle

This isn’t so much a story as it is a vignette or a scene. 

It’s written to 🐝’s prompt

write about good friends??

🛣️

>>So what’s in the middle?

>>Nebraska, I think.  But that’s, well, that’s ‘as the crow flies,’, and neither of us are crows.  Plus, not a lot of state parks there, hrmmm.  Got it!  How about Mark Twain National Park?

They had never seen each other in person.  An entire nation – the width of an entire continent – divided them.  But looking at maps online, chatting across the internet, they agreed. Continue reading