Landing Page: The Planners

Some people take “be prepared” as not only a motto, but a life goal. The Planners ‘verse follows one such group from inception, through the edge of apocalypse and out the other side, into the time centuries past a world-breaking disaster.

Planners’ History

Modern Era

Jasmine’s Story/Geriocracy

Tess’s Story/The Library

Other Library-Era (post-the-end) Stories

The Anthropologist

Worldbuilding by Plan

Icon of the library by [personal profile] meeks;
icon of the Anthropologist also by [personal profile] meeks

They Had A Plan

Content warning: this is set in my Planners setting (a very large organized family of preppers) and involves the current pandemic situation


The Family had a plan for nearly everything, and they created at least two new plans every year. 

 They had a plan for this.

Small catastrophes – something that was small by the Family’s gauge at least – they were more than set to deal with without barely blinking.  They did their normal grocery shopping, did their normal gardening, and when the orders came to minimize social contact, those few family members who weren’t comfortably set up to work-from-home were quickly set up to do so.  Cases were Family were furloughed – some jobs you just can’t do home – there was a Family emergency fund to support them, or, in many cases, there was something for them to do. 

An organization like the Family always had work that needed to be done.  Considering the bad experiences they’d had a time or two with outsiders who came to work for them and then wrote or recorded a tell-all- some lies, some truth, and some truth as badly skewed as possible – the family preferred to keep those jobs close, preferring Family and Friends-of-Family for everything possible.  

So they, as a family, and as individuals, were set. Continue reading

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Originally posted August 21, 2011 and, would you believe it, the only thing to show up in a Google search for “harvest” of my Dreamwidth blog.


The Aramob had not been expecting resistance when they went against the Village. Town people were soft, and folded easily. That was the wisdom of the elders, that was what the young warriors preached. Especially water-towns, where their food came easy and they could waste their time in games.

Read On

This is Viddie (Viðrou, but his mother didn’t want to call him Vitthie.), the son of Cynara and Leofric from, among other things, Addergoole: a Ghost Story.


In theory, it should have been easy.

Viddie knew pumpkins.  He’d grown up eating pumpkin pie from scratch, and he knew all of the ins and outs of what made a pumpkin a pumpkin.

Read On!

This turned out a little strange…


Sub-bureaucrat Azenia had her hands full and her lamp was burning far past closing time.

She knew, of course, that the over-bureaucrats liked it that way.

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Originally posted February 27, 2015


The fighter pilot with the callsign Spice was new to the team and, although all her credentials assured that she was not, indeed, new to space fighting as a concept or a skill, still the team had to be reassured.

Read On

Fancy Dresses, long lingering kisses, awkward moments with your friends, bullies… Prom!

Anton had figured he didn’t have a chance.

He was new to Hieder Hill High, he wasn’t one of the popular kids – was the new guy ever the popular guy? – his family wasn’t rich or even that well-off, and he didn’t dress like or act like the popular guys.

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I live!  It’s been a hell of a month.  But here I am. 


This story originally posted June 4, 2011.


He came to the school in autumn, once the crops were in. They’d gone back to old habits and old practices in the Academy, as in so much of the world, knowing that the old existed and had survived for so long for a reason.

Read On!

Worldbuilding Month Day 11 – The end of the World, as I know it…

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 eleventh one is from [personal profile] lilfluff: just what was the nature of the apocalypse in The Planners?

You know, I have been doing a Very Good Job of leaving that completely unsaid.

The things I know are: It was not nuclear, it was not alien, and it was not zombie. It was not climactic – I.e. Giant Flood, that thing in 2000 or whatever the movie was with a giant freeze everywhere and the book-burning, and it probably didn’t involve Mad Max. It was probably not an asteroid strike.

It destroyed a large portion of the infastructure and it was probably that destruction that killed off a large portion of the population.

It was a worldwide apocalypse, not centered on any one nation.

It may have had a lot in common appearance-wise with the apocalypse in the TV show Revolution, although it was not cause by Plot Nanotech. Basically: the power all went out. Cars stopped working. Going anywhere became a challenge.

I think it involved several EMPs or a world-wide EMP. Either a backfiring test strike that ended up with several large nations making a mess of the world, or something like solar flares that made a mess all on its own.

As far as apocalypses go, it left the landscape mostly untouched, the people devastated, and technology a mess.

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Visible Bisexuality: We Plan for This

Planners ‘Verse has a landing page here. Samantha and Bella are new characters.

“Don’t worry.” Samantha had been saying that a lot in the last few days. “My family plans for this sort of thing.”

The first time, Bella had asked “What sort of thing?” because she couldn’t quite imagine anyone planning for being stuck in a basement that had sealed itself on some computer malfunction.

Samantha’s answer, cool as anything, hadn’t helped one bit. “End-of-the-world-as-we-know-it scenarios. Here, take this.”

The second time she’d asked again, because she couldn’t see how “I don’t have anything to wear” counted as any sort of apocalyptic scenario and she didn’t want to think about what was going on outside.

Samantha had smirked, playful this time. “Scarcity situations. We’ll be here for a few days, at least. Here, take this.”

The third time, Bella just asked “is there anything your family doesn’t plan for?” They were playing Scrabble by the light of a very nice LED lantern, in a bunker bedroom nicer than her first-year dorm.

Samantha smiled playfully. “Well, I suppose we didn’t really have a plan for me getting stuck down here alone… but, then again, I didn’t.”

“You could’ve gotten stuck down here with Dane, though, if you’d planned it better.” Dane was Samantha’s boyfriend of three years, although Bella found him a little unpleasant.

Samantha smiled, which wasn’t really what Bella had expected. “Well, who would you rather be stuck down here with?”

“You or Dane? You. I like girls, remember?”

Samantha waggled an eyebrow. “And who’s saying I didn’t plan for this? My family plans for this sort of thing.”

Bella found herself without any answer but a blush. That was all right; Samantha clearly had plans for her tongue that didn’t involve talking.

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Generations of Feud

After Promises Broken, to this prompt by lilfluff

She’d been too young to understand, the year of the Ice Storm. All Kailienne knew was that her friends, Toby’s, and the Aedder kids – who shared classed with her and Toby, but she wouldn’t have called them friends, then – their friends & classmates had come to stay, with their families, overflowing the cottages in the alder stand while the rest of the town struggled with power outages, blocked roads, gas shortages, and freezing temperatures.

She’d noticed the way Adeline, Head of House, and Brice, Elder Whitehall, were tense with each other, because in a family like theirs, especially when everyone was trapped inside by the weather, you noticed every tension. But the weather was bad and the adults were often tense in potential crisis situations.

What she first remembered noticing was that, while the snow thawed and the world unfroze, relations between Brice and Adeline did not. She noticed it when Toby started working with Brice and she started working with Adeline, learning their trades and working hard for adulthood. She noticed the way Toby had pulled away from her, the way Brice would sit her down and talk to her about what a man’s word meant.

You didn’t speak ill to your elders, not in their family. But after a few weeks, Kailienne asked, carefully, “what about a woman’s word, Uncle Brice? Women and men aren’t different, not in our family. Right?”

He turned a funny color of puce. “What has Adeline been telling you?”

“Aunt Addy? Nothing… nothing about words. That’s why I asked you.”

There were other regrets Kailienne would have, as she grew older. Other words she would wish she could take back. But those words – those words would haunt her forever. And the way Elder Brice’s eyes lit up. And the way his back straightened.

On the other hand, she might have embroiled herself in a family feud that was as silent as snow and as long-lasting as an oak tree, but at least Toby was talking to her again.

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Reunited, a story bit of Planners (@lilfluff)

I asked for Non-Addergoole Prompts here; this is to [personal profile] lilfluff‘s prompt.

235 words, ‘Planners verse 5 years post-Collapse.

The Far Northeast branch of the Family had done everything by the book, and then improvised where there was no book. They had gotten their Ark Library secure before the first murmurs of trouble, and had been all safe inside, with an equal number of non-Family experts and friends as Family, when the worst troubles hit. They had sat tight, letting in a select handful of wandering refugees only as they could safely feed and shelter, and had immediately begun classes in which everyone taught and everyone learned. Their food supplies exceeded book suggestions. Their heating plans were on par for the northern Maine winters. They were completely, totally prepared.

The problem was, they had also been, for five long years, completely, totally isolated from the rest of the world. Communications lines had not survived the collapse, which had been anticipated.

What hadn’t been anticipated, or at least not considered relevant, was the strange flailing feeling of a continent-sprawling organization in constant contact with one another suddenly finding itself cut into component pieces.

The day the Family scouts finally found the Far Northeast Ark Library, the Northers broke into every reserve stock for their party. Alcohol flowed. Chocolate was baked. Rich foods were served, and loud music boomed.

Of course, while five years was not all that long in terms of the Family’s long view, it was certainly long enough to drift away from Plan…

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Artist Wanted, a short story for the Giraffe Call

I asked for prompts regarding Circles here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to Kelkyag’s Prompt here and is set in the pre-apoc of my Planners ‘verse.
“The Alma J. Morton Center is auditioning artists.” On the other end of the phone, Tabitha’s voice sounded both tinny and ridiculously high-pitched. “Marsh, Marsh, you have to do this.”

“Auditioning?” Marsha kept her voice low and quiet, the way she always did when talking to Tabitha. “Why is this so cool, Tabitha?”

“…auditioning artists to design and implement a large mural on the theme of ‘life, decay, life.'” Tabitha dropped her voice into a dramatic croon. “Marsh…”

“All right, all right.” Marsha flipped through her sketchbook until she found a corner bare. “Give me the information.”


“The Alma J. Morton Center has been, for many years, considered a bit of an enigma in downtown Rochester.” The woman on the other side of the desk leaned forward, putting her weight on her forearms. Her smile invited Marsha to share in the humor. “We’re aware of this. If the Center had a nickle for the times we’ve heard people ask ‘what do they do there, anyway?’ well, then we could launch a multi-media adverting campaign telling people what we do. Since that is not the case…”

“You’re hiring muralists?”

A muralist, and then assistants as needed for grunt work, yes. “

“To…” Marsha glanced again at the job description. “To create a large mural on the life cycle?” A lightbulb went on in her brain. “That north wall, the one facing the Bausch and Lomb building? The one that’s four floors up before it gets to the window?” She swallowed. “That’s a big mural.”

“It is. Now, I see you brought your portfolio.” The woman held out a sketch book and a 20-pencil box. “While I peruse that, could you please draw at least one concept sketch on the theme of ‘life, decay, life?'”

Tip Circle 😉

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