Addergoole Is Back! Ghost Story, Chapter 1: Leofric

Mar6

Addergoole – Chapter 1: Leofric

Leofric pulled his backpack out of his gym locker, slinging it over his shoulder with a cheerful smile at one of his classmates (kinda tall, muscular, and answering his smile with a glower that practically said “what’re you looking at”) before making his way past and out the door. It was the end of the school day, which normally he didn’t care about much — but this school day was only the second at his new school, Addergoole. His new boarding school. New, underground boarding school.

Plus, he had PE last, which meant that he got out earlier than the other classes and could avoid the usual packed halls. Leofric had been surprised how such a tiny school — barely even a hundred students! — could get such crowded halls, but as he’d realized yesterday after classes ended, the halls were really narrow.

read on…

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Desmond’s Climb – Questions

Mar4

First: Slaves, School
Previous: Theories

The food was good. Desmond tried to focus on that. It was filling, it was tasty. Somewhere, they had a good source of fresh vegetables and even meat. Of course, of course, Des remembered, there was magic. For all he knew, there was a magical potato farm next to the magical stairway.

The food was good, but everyone was very quiet. After a few minutes, Jefshan repeated, “there’s no going back. It’s like Wesley said. All those people — and none of them ever came back, did they?”

“No.” Talia’s head shake was slow and sad. “So what do you think happened to the twenty-eighth candidate? I mean, people don’t go back, right? As far as we can tell. And they’re not here, and…”

“Hey.” A chair scraped across the floor and a blue-clad person from the next table over pushed up close to them. “Hsst. That’s not the sort of question you want to ask here.”

Their cravat was the same color as Desmond’s, but it matched their eyes perfectly. Their hair was the fairest Des had ever seen on someone, and they had an intense, serious expression as they glared at Talia.

“Why not?” Talia frowned at this new intruder. “It’s simple math.”

“Look, ‘there were twenty-eight and now there’s twenty-seven,’ that part’s simple math. That’s the easy part.” They scooted their chair until they were sitting between Talia and Wesley. “I’m Meshron; this is my third year here. And I can tell you, don’t ask that, not yet.”

“‘Not yet?’” Wesly glared at him. “Then when?”

“Best bet is second year, if they don’t cover it in your history classes. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. But if you get to third year and haven’t heard — then you come find me.” Meshron’s face twisted up. “Or… maybe not me. I may have to have an argument with my compatriot, sorry. Anyway — don’t ask now. Just, uh, learn a lot, and be glad you’re in the twenty-seven. And in Impulse! That’s the best place to be, you know, the honorable school of the first thing that comes to mind. Some of the best collared people — they’d be famous if they weren’t collared — come from Impulse.”

Des had no idea of Meshron was joking or not. He looked at the older student, but their face gave away nothing. After a moment, he cleared his throat.

“So, sit on the burning question for a while and worry about… what, instead?”

“Well, classes start tomorrow, that’s a good one. There’s the rest of your dorm of people, there’s why our uniforms aren’t all the same blue, there’s where the food comes from – lots of questions. And none of those will get you in trouble.”

“So?” Talia asked. “Why are our uniforms all slightly different blues?”

Meshron’s grin was entirely unapologetic. “That, I’m afraid, would be telling.”

“Oh, come on, you won’t tell us anything?”

“Nothing at all.” Meshron scooted back to their original table, leaving their little group frowning and curious.

“So,” Des said slowly, “we’re blue because we chose Impulse, right? That was that choice. But what about that collar’s-choice turn? Does anyone know what that was?”

::No::, his collar murmured. ::And you won’t for a while. But you’re on the right track.::

Jefshan frowned. “We don’t… get to know, yet, I think. It’s being cryptic.”

“Mine, too.”

“Mine,” Kayeye said slowly, “says that I don’t have the knowledge yet to understand. What’s that even supposed to mean?”

::That you don’t have the knowledge yet,:: Desmond’s collar answered, sounding, for all that it was in his mind, quite bratty.

“Probably that there’s some context?” Jefshan guessed. “Or there’s something that we’re not supposed to know yet. But let’s see. They look like… three different shades? And then there’s some variation within the shade.”

“So I got mine handed to me, and it was this — set of colors already.” Desmond looked down at his cravat, trying not to go cross-eyed looking at it. “There’s a possibility it’s just the first one Grenor grabbed, and Meshron was just messing with us — which does seem likely, considering everything else said.”

“Just a smokescreen, then?” Talia frowned. “To cover up the question we’re not supposed to be asking yet? I suppose that’s possib—” a yawn cut off whatever was coming next. “Oh! My pardons. It’s been such a long day, and I don’t even know what time it is now.”

“It has.” Desmond stretched backwards slowly before returning to attacking his food. “Do you think the tests are over? All the stairs and the throwing magic at us and the decisions?”

“I think…” Jefshan considered. “I think they’ve sorted us out now. All the tests were to see where we started, right? Or something like that. So now we have our house and whatever else they determined, and — then classes, I guess. I wonder if we’re all going to be in the same classes. I wonder what they’re going to teach us.”

“It seems like a lot of work for just putting us back in school.” Talia frowned. “I mean, if it’s just going to be more history and literature, we could have stayed in our neighborhood classes and working.”

“It can’t be just that, though.” Desmond touched his collar lightly. “We have these. That means we’re — well, don’t you think it means we’re going to end up doing the things collared people do?”

“That’s a really broad range of things.” Wesley ran a few fingers over their collar. “It’s — how do you do classes for that for everyone?”

“Well, maybe we won’t be in the same classes?” Des offered. “Or maybe the first year is all about everything with the collars, and then they sort us out after that?”

“It can’t all hinge on the stairs, can it?” Talia was looking worried. “I mean, if we did a bad job on the stairs…”

“We don’t even know what a bad job would look like,” Jefshan soothed. “We just know that it means something. It could’ve been just to keep us busy for a while, get us here one at a time instead of all in a lump.”

“But the arrival times…” Des touched his collar again. “Did you get an arrival time? Nobody was in the lobby when I got here.”

“Eleven a.m,” Talia offered.

“Ten ten,” Wesley put in. They went around the circle; everyone had been given a different time, off by five minutes.

“So…” Wesley seemed to be thinking as he spoke. “Then does it matter who got in first or last?”

Des had already been thinking about that. “Well,” he offered, in an intent to placate, “they’re magical stairs. Who’s saying they didn’t bend time as well?”

Even as he said it, he had to admit it was a scary concept.

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Lady Taisiya’s 4th Husband, Chapter 19: Afterwards – a fantasy/romance story

Mar3

Find Chapter 1 here
Chapter 2 is here
Chapter 3 is here
Chapter 4 is here
Chapter 5 is here
Chapter 6 is here
Chapter 7 is here.
Chapter 8: here
Chapter 9: here
Chapter 10: here
Chapter 11 (R-Rated) here
Chapter 12: here
Chapter 13: here
Chapter 14: here
Chapter 15: here
Chapter 16: here
Chapter 17: here
Chapter 18: here

You can skip Chapter 11 without losing the plot.

They got through several hands of Efferghine, making up new rules as they went, before Calum and Onter came back. “Everything’s all set now. The locksmith will come in the morning, and we’re going to install a few new safety measures. The captives are all locked up safely for the night. Good job, you two.” He patted Sefton’s back and nodded at Jaco. “You kept them all out of the nursery.”

“That’s our job.” Jaco looked a little uncomfortable. “You set to watch or you need some back-up?”

“I’m good for a couple hours, then Onter will wake up and come spell me. You get some sleep. And you, Feltian, back to our Lady’s rooms with you. She asked for you specifically.”

Sefton ducked his head. “Thanks. I’ll head back there now, then?”

“Yeah, don’t dawdle. She’s tired, too, and she’s going to want to get some sleep before tomorrow.”

Well, that didn’t do anything at all for his nerves. Sefton bowed, just out of reflex, and headed through the halls of husbands’ territory towards his lady’s room.

The halls were a mess. There were scorch marks on the walls and a few places where a bladed weapon had clearly landed in the framework — in one place, it had taken a long splash of blood with it.

Sefton swallowed. He knew this happened, and yet it was one thing to know it and another to be the husband, the one whose responsibility it was to stop those attacks.

Well, they’d done it, hadn’t they? He and Jaco had, and Callum and Onter and his lady…

His lady. He hurried up his pace. That blood wasn’t hers, was it? Was it Onter’s? Oh, please let it all be the bandits’.

He knocked rapidly on the door, not nearly the sedate, polite request for attention that a proper husband was supposed to do. Still, the door opened, to reveal a Taisiya in a robe, a blood splatter still across her face.

“Feltian, good. You’re all right?”

“Yes, my lady, yes, but you?” He reached out for her cheek, but let his hand drop halfway. “That is, you’re still in good health?”

“It’s all right to show concern, Feltian.” She touched his cheek gently. “Come on, let’s wash up, and then we can get to bed. It’s been a long day for all of us.”

He wanted to protest that he wasn’t tired, but when he opened his mouth, a yawn escaped. Mortified, he covered his mouth with his hand.

Taisiya chuckled. “Come on, let’s stay awake long enough to clean up at least. I hear you did very well today.”

“They got through the nursery door.” He was still indignant about that. “They walked right through.”

“I know. And that’s horrifying. I’m very grateful to Jaco and you for defending the egglings so well.”

They’re my children, too. He ducked his head and said nothing, because he didn’t know what he could say.

“Come on.” She steered him into the bathroom. “How are you doing, do you think? With the egglings, with the other husbands?”

“Jaco and I are getting along pretty well,” he admitted. He wasn’t sure if that would be a good thing or not, considering Jaco’s self-chosen role as the Bad Husband. “And I don’t think Calum or Onter have problems with me. I think Hothyan has decided that I’m not the enemy, and I’ve been getting along well with Pherisshe.”

“Good, very good. I’m pleased you’re working to fit in. And if you can get along with Hothyan, maybe he can see that being married is not the end of the world.”

Sefton cleared his throat. “I think he misses his brother, that’s all.”

“I’m sure he does. It’s not easy, for those left in the house. I remember what it felt like.” She patted his head. “I was a child once too, Feltia. I do remember what it’s like, being lost, being worried, the first time being married.”

But you’re in charge. He didn’t say it. No matter how tired he was, he knew it would be unwise. “Yes, Lady Taisiya.”

She sat down on the edge of the tub and pushed the pump a few times, wetting a cloth. “I’m a person, my dear. I may be your wife, but I’m no less a person.” She sighed and looked away from him. “That door. If anything had happened to you or Jaco or the children…”

Sefton’s pride was stung. “I wasn’t going to let anything happen to the egglings,” he complained. “And it’s my job to not let anything happen to them. That’s what I trained for.”

She caught his chin in her hand, moving so fast he didn’t have a chance to react or even to decide if he should react. “It is my job to keep all of my husbands and all of my children safe. That is why you have chains. So that you are not running off to battle like some wild man from the colonial days.”

Sefton flushed and averted his eyes. “I know this, my lady.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. She was still holding his chin, which meant he ought to be looking at her. “I don’t want to, to run off to battle.” He would’ve been good in the army, but that hadn’t been a choice for him, any more than the Academy had. “It’s just that husbands, we’re supposed to protect the egglings. And I take that very seriously.”

“Look at me, Feltian.”

He really had no choice at that point. He didn’t want to end his first day married being punished. Sefton turned his gaze back to Taisiya, to find her looking straight in his eyes.

“I am very pleased that you feel this way about the egglings. Most men, they need to have their own children in the nest before they feel that way. So I am glad that you already feel that responsibility. But is is still my job to make sure that you are all both safe and tame.”

Tame was one of Sefton’s least favorite words, but he had plenty of practice keeping that off of his face. He couldn’t nod, so he said, quietly — she was so close! — “Yes, Lady Taisiya.”

“It’s all right.” Her voice softened. “It’s not meant to be likable, sadly, but it’s meant to be tolerable.” Her free hand brushed across the shackle on his left wrist. “Like this. It’s a symbol. It’s hard to bear at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

Sefton sighed. “I can tolerate it, Lady Taisiya. I can do that for you.”

She smiled, but the expression looked more sad and tired than pleased with him. “I know, my darling Feltian. I already know that about you. But some day… Some day I hope you’ll understand that you’re tolerating it for yourself, as well.”

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Worldbuilding Month Day 1: Folding Universes

Mar3

March is Worldbuilding Month! Leave me a question about any of my worlds, and I will do my best to answer it!
🌏
This first one is from [personal profile] sauergeek:
Which pairs (or more) of these various universes could potentially be folded into one?

That’s a good question! Let’s see.

I’m not going to count, for the moment, the fact that 2/3 of my space stuff seems like it’s in the same world. (Foedus is not). That’s not really an established universe.

There’s been some speculation/fanfic about Addergoole/Tír na Cali, but that’s primarily because Tír na Cali was the parent setting for Addergoole; they don’t actually exist in the same place.

Facets can exist in almost any of them! That’s because it’s a portal fantasy.

I’m not really getting into the spirit of this question, am I?

Okaaaay.

Science! and Modern Superheroes could and might exist in the same world.

I’ve speculated about the Aunt Family and either Fairy Town or Stranded World before.

To be honest, I think that’s about it. Expectant Wood/Aerax COULD be part of Things Unspoken, but I don’t think it is. Oh, and Cracks is probably part of Fairy Town.

I think everything that COULD be folded together already was, back in the dawn of the settings.

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In Which the Kissing Continues

Mar3

First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which They Have Nerves.
🐝
The kiss was meant to be a promise, but it turned into an invitation. She liked the way he kissed, like he was taking he time with it, tasting her. She liked the way it felt when he put a hand on the center of her back to steady himself.

She twisted the rest of the way around, hands on his shoulders for support. His shoulders were tense; his brow was furrowed. His hands slid down her wet sides to her hips and held her there, delicately, like he was holding an egg, like he was afraid she might break.

She hadn’t lived this long in the end of the world to break easily. She ran her hand up the back of his neck, pulled him to her, and kissed him again. There was nothing delicate about her grip, and from the sound he made, he approved.
🐝
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🐝

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Now on Patreon: Patreon News and Sail Away

Mar1


📰
It’s the green month!

I gotta be honest with you (or, at least, I’m going to be honest with you), March can be a little dreary. It’s that place between winter and summer that usually seems a little too muddy and a little too grey.

In my yard, I brighten up March by planting crocus and chives — things that come up the moment they have a chance of surviving.
📰
<a href=https://www.patreon.com/posts/march-news-8270822Read on…


🌊
I tried three times before I got to the “seashore” story for January. This is the first try.

🌊
On the summer equinox of his fifteenth year, Farthian was given a boat.

There were three ways out of the Terribad Vale: you took a boat, and hoped for land; you climbed to the north peak of Glinimore, and dropped by glider down into the more shallow mountains in that direction, or you climbed to the pass at the South, and walked for days until you reached another valley.

Free for Patreon patrons!

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Weekend Blog: Commercials and Stereotypes

Mar1

A radio ad – think it was for McDonald’s – got me thinking, not for the first time, about cultural assumptions.

Okay, so there’s a long-running set of assumptions about Husbands in American culture. This particular one was “men don’t like to clean out the garage.”

This… is not true of the men I know, but hey, let’s keep going.

This goes along with the “men don’t like to do chores” tropes – the “Honey-Do” list, the chore jar, etc. The ignored tasks that pile up and up until Marge has to learn carpentry to fix them herself. (I watch a lot of Simpsons, okay? 😉 There seems to be a stack of assumptions that permeate American culture – especially comedy, which, Simpsons aside, I try not to watch too much of.

So, “who perpetuates these myths” is obvious: comedies, commercials, media. I think it probably goes along with the idea that men can’t parent, can’t do housework, are pretty much helpless children when it comes to the realm of the home.

Now, I know the separate spheres idea goes back at least to the late 1800’s, and I know my father, for instance, liked to pretend a helplessness with things like laundry and cooking that belied the years he’d spent living on his own. (Seriously, I was horrified as a teenager to have to show my dad how to use the washer). But my post-childhood experience with men has not been that they are helpless, useless, or lazy.

(There’s a certain amount of self-selection there, of course; I knew incompetent men, lazy men, useless men. I grew up with competent helpful skilled men — my grandfather is a farmer; my other grandfather used to build houses — and chose to marry the same.)

Why do you think this stereotype proliferates?

When you are writing, are there stereotypes you work into your writing? What sorts, and why?

What do you run into in media that just seems jarring vs. the way your life actually goes?

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MARKED – Follow that trail!

Feb28

MARKED – 4.6

“Now Nilien,” Professor Vaudelle frowned, “if there really is someone here who wants to harm you, you should let the adults handle it. We don’t want you to be hurt; Reinmonte is meant to be a safe place to learn, not a place to get into more danger.”

“I’ll be all right, professor.” Feeling a little guilty, Nilien added on a fib, “besides, it’s probably just another student pulling a prank, right? If I bring in a teacher for something like that, it will only make it worse.”

“You can go look,” the professor relented, “but if it turns out that it’s not another student, do come find me or one of the other teachers. Don’t try to take on another adult by yourself. Understand?”

read on…

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In Which they have Nerves

Feb28

First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which They are Dirty.

🐝

Some part of Amrit’s brain was still trying desperately to remind him she bought you at a slave market. She kept you chained and gagged and collared. She wants you to be her slave. Her Kept.

The rest of him was being pretty clear that those things were irrelevant. Certain parts of him — not his brain, no matter what the jokes said — were very intent on everything being irrelevant.
And some part of him was tied up in knots that made him feel young and stupid and very out of his element again. But he had her in his arms, he was not going to drop her, and he wasn’t going to conk her head into anything.

Her hallways were narrow. She was not a short woman – compared to him, sure, but not compared to other women he’d encountered and the one he’d carried once. He held her close to him and tried to ignore the way she was grabbing on to him. Holding his neck. Holding his shoulders, yes, that was far safer to think about. Amrit swallowed a noise like a growl, not wanting to frighten her again, and maneuvered her into the bathroom.

There was a water pump. He glared at the pump as if that would make it start working.

“Tempero Yaku,” Mieve started, and then followed it with a string of Greek he barely followed. Control Water, though, that he knew, and it quickly became obvious, as water gushed out of the faucet. The tub appear to plug itself, so Amrit took advantage of the moment to start heating the water up as it poured in.

“Eventually you’re going to have to put me down,” Mieve pointed out, when he had completed the Working. “Since you can’t take your clothes off while you’re holding me, and vice versa.”

“I might be able to,” he admitted, “but not and still have clothes when I was done. All right. I suppose I should put you down.” He was surprisingly reluctant to do so. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere, he knew, and yet… Slowly, he set her on the feet.

And now he had to strip in front of her. He turned his back a bit, not sure where this modesty was coming from. He had nothing he was ashamed of, nothing he wanted to hide. He pulled off his clothes slowly. He wanted to turn and look at Mieve, but somehow that seemed like it would be wrong.

He growled. He wasn’t fifteen, damnit.

“You can turn around.” Mieve’s hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s not like we’re not going to be in the tub together in a minute or anything. I’m not going to be offended.”

“I know,” he grumbled. “I just… this is. It’s new. Different.” He twitched his shoulders. “Don’t want to end up fighting again.”

She made a small noise, a worrisome noise, and that was enough to finally make Amrit turn around. She had her hand over her mouth, and it was a moment before he realized she was laughing.

“It’s not funny,” he grumbled, but he couldn’t bring any real heat to it.

“It’s not,” she admitted, still laughing, “and… yet… it’s a little funny?”

“It’s a little funny,” he grumbled agreement. Under the clothes, she had a much more shapely figure than he’d thought. A little skinny — they were all a little skinny, and anyone who wasn’t, you had to wonder a bit at their secrets — but gorgeous nonetheless.

He bit back whatever noise wanted to come out of his throat, not entirely sure what it would be, and only then noticed that she was looking him up and down too.

“Liking your purchase?” Some bit of ridiculousness made him lift his arms and suck in his stomach — not that he had a gut anymore; he was skinny like the rest of the world — and pose for her.

She ran her hand over his chest, sending shivers through his body. “Quite a bit,” she murmured. “Forgiving me for buying you?”

“Better you than Fineus the Whoremonger.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead tenderly. “But there’s this tub waiting for us…”

“It looks kind of tempting, doesn’t it? I’m glad you can heat water up. I haven’t had a properly hot tub in quite a while…”

“The tub isn’t what looks tempting.” He swung her up into his arms again and kissed her. He was fiercer than he meant to be, but he wanted to get it in before she stopped him. Before she came to her senses and remembered that she’d bought him.

“Mmm. Well, both you and the tub are pretty hot,” she teased, when they came up for air. “So let’s combine the two and see if it multiplies hotness.”

“Now you’re just being silly,” he murmured. “I’m not all that good-looking, you know.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t point out how rarely I see another sentient being, should I?”

“No… no. Let me have some of my pride, please.”

She chuckled. “You have nothing to worry about when it comes to your looks. But if you don’t get in the tub soon, I might second-guess the second half of this plan.”

“There’s a second half? There’s a plan?” He stepped into the tub and very carefully sat down, setting her in his lap.

“Maybe more of a concept or a hope,” she admitted. She shifted around for a few moments and leaned back with her head on his chest. “Although this is quite a nice result, I have to admit.”

He touched her arms cautiously. “You wanted this? Really?” What was wrong with him?

“You’re… yes. Let’s just go with yes, all right? You may be mulish, but you’re kind. Also,” she teased, “you really need the bath.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but so do you.” He picked up a sliver of soap she’d left on the side of the tub and started washing her neck and shoulders. “You know how good you’ve got it here, right?”

“Half of that is magic. I mean, if everyone could make water flow with their minds, they wouldn’t need running water quite so badly. And… ooh. That feels nice.” She leaned forward as he soaped up the back of her neck up into her hairline. “If everyone could heat things up like you can…”

“They wouldn’t need firewood. But you’re safe here, you’ve got food and water and shelter and, oh, man, I can’t tell you the last time I took a bath.” Much less one with a lovely woman. He moved his hands up into her hair. “It’s a pretty sweet set-up. I don’t blame you for not wanting to lose it.”

“I got lucky.” Her voice was quiet, and she seemed stiller, almost stiff. “A lot of people didn’t.”

“I know.” He kissed the top of her head. “I know. Me, too. I won the Change lotto, and then even when I was stupid enough to get caught by slavers – I got bought by you, and not by some asshole.”

“You could’ve gotten free from some asshole.” She looked as if she wanted to relax, but her shoulders were still stiff. He ran the washcloth over her shoulders gently.

“Not if he kept me in hawthorn. And anyway, this place is better than – well.” It was his turn to go still, his hand on her shoulder. “…This place is the best place I’ve been since the world ended, and maybe before it.”

She twisted in his lap to kiss him. “Just you wait,” she murmured. “It gets better.”

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