Abby woke to find Old Liv staring at her from the entryway of the tent. “Trouble?” she mouthed. To either side of her, there was a Liv, sound asleep.
Liv-Old shook her head. “Just… It always surprises me,” she murmurs, “how young you are. But you’re younger than most of them, I think. You haven’t been in here long at all, have you?”
“No.” Abby didn’t want to wake up her Livs. She considered the way they were all laying and, after a moment, sat up slowly, and moved to the front of the tent, finding that she could sit cross-legged and keep one knee touching each of her Livs. “It’s still weird, sleeping in the mall, for me. But at least, uh. The robot people gave us a bath?”
Liv-Old snorted. “Yeah. I went about a month without a bath during my first year or two because I was being squeamish. Same with food. After a while-” Continue reading
A Work in Progress
- Icon Flash: Chain ‘Round her Neck
- Lucky Day
- Description of Genique
- Dinner, a drabble of Space Accountant (Donor Perk)
- Excerpt 6 today – from a Space Pirates story
- Taking Chances
- Betting on It
- Pirates and Bad People
- February is World Building Month. Day 14: Space Accountant
- February is World Building Month. Day 16: Space Accountant
- Betting Time
- Bunking Arrangements
- A Meme and a Writing Game – ask my characters things!
- A Reason, a continuation of Space Accountant
- Some Paperwork… a story of Space Accountant for the Summer Giraffe Call
- LadiesBingo: Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics
- Flostam – A continuation of Genique for Finish It Bingo
- Space Accountant Landing Page
The Pit (kink)
Planetary Day 370
The good news is: we’ve isolated the biological/mineral combination that makes the ocean water joy-juice.
The bad news is: It’s because Lei found some standing water in isolated rock bowls that made the same compound.
The really bad news: Standing water is as dangerous here as it is anywhere, plus the dangers of the joy-juice.
The tolerably decent news: Lei’s knee-highs make pretty good assistant nursemaids. They aren’t letting him leave bed until he’s healthy again.
Aran came down from the upstairs bathroom scrubbed, looking like another person. He had even found a razor and cleaned up his scruffy beard to something that reminded her of a goatee. “Guessing they left in a hurry.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Haven’t used anything like those soaps in a long time. I smell like a funeral.”
“You smell like flowers.” She stepped up close and sniffed his hair; he froze but didn’t complain. “Well, like the chemical equivalent, at least. Not bad.”
He leaned down and sniffed her hair. “You, too. Like one of those days in spring where everything is going crazy.” Continue reading
Planetary Day 466
Now that we have the pink-yaks settled to taking a harness, we’ve been working on an actual shelter for next winter. Our habitat is clearly not quite enough, so we’ve skipped to the end of the Exploration Manual and have started making a home.
You know, I wasn’t actually surprised to dig down and find that the clay was pink.
Finding silca sand that made pink glass was slightly more surprising, and means that our windows may be letting in, ah, rose-colored light.
The way the last winter went, we might need every bit of optimism we can get.
First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
They drank coffee together, smiling at each other and, at least in Mélanie’s case, thinking of how many ways the day could go. If he were like her earlier masters…. but he wasn’t.
She cleared her throat. “If there are things in the kitchen, I could cook breakfast,” she offered. “And then you can tell me what, specifically, you want me to do over the next couple days. I imagine,” she chuckled, a little nervously, but trying to still sound casual, “that you don’t want me to clean up the yard.”
“No, sadly, not that. I think she would like it better – but I think she understands the need for the mess, too. If you want to make breakfast, I won’t argue. The ‘fridge runs – you know what a ‘fridge is?” Continue reading
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, I This is my camp nano project. Enjoy! The Lord of Penn’s Land – the warlord, although he preferred to be called ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, II Tisha shook her head and smiled a sort of long-suffering smile. But the one with beer – a woman who ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, III Around them, all over the campground, she could hear the noises of people doing the same: settling in for sleep ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, IV The first thousand people to get to Tax Day were given tokens, 1-1000, and they would be the first in ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, V They picked up the last of the mess from breakfast, tidied Candice’s camping space, and played a game with tag ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, VI So there I was, making a deal with a fae and holding my breath while I did so. Fifteen steel, ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, VII “Of course it’s your turn,” the older of the pair coaxed, but the younger man wasn’t quite willing to believe ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, VIII The man whose camp was on the other side of Candice’s who had brought jam and fresh berries for breakfast ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, IX Now this wasn’t the easiest route – certainly not by row boat. For one thing, you couldn’t see quite looking ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, X The tale-teller returned, rolling his shoulders and smiling, with an amber bottle and six glasses that seemed to be ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, XI When the stew, such as it was, was simmering away over Candice’s stew pot, they had collected two more people, ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, XII They broke their fast the next morning as a group, none of them wanting to separate. There was a small ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, XIII The booing had stopped, and they had all had their share of food, eaten slowly and uncomfortably while they waited ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, XIV “And you’re not done yet,” Candice pointed out. “Sit for a spell, have something more to drink, and then finish ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, XV He bowed to them all, and they applauded him quietly. The line had been moving as they spoke, a little ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, XVI Warning: a bit of horror. He took another long sip of rum, he walked around their group twice, pacing, but nobody ...
- 101 Apocalypse Nights, XVII The next morning found the warlord’s staff moving around with warm drinks and warm pastries. Everyone had their share; the ...
They had given her a plinth.
They collected the most interesting members of every family, and for them, she was very interesting indeed.
There were three of her distance cousins who also had plinths, but hers was the highest and the most decorated. And if there was a chain, and she could not swim that far from her plinth, well, many others had chains as well, in this land. It seemed to her, watching the land from her water-bound pedestal, that there were more people with chains than without. Continue reading
For DaHob, a ficlet of Tír na Cali.
“So… you’re pretty normal?”
As far as come-on lines went, Barty had definitely heard worse. He’d heard better a couple times, sure, but while he was okay-looking, he wasn’t usually the hottest guy in the bar and definitely wasn’t the richest in any room.
Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been careful. Maybe it had been the way she clicked her hair over a bare shoulder. Maybe it had been the way she smiled like he was very, very important to her.
Whatever it had been, it had gotten him in her bed, and that had been, well. Barty wasn’t the sort to say things like “mind-blowing,” but… his mind was pretty blown.
And now, now he was sitting on bleachers with fifty other Americans, wearing collars and sweats and all of them feeling a little uncomfortable.
“The purpose of this mission is to acquaint Californian agents with American customs. To that end, every one of you is going to have a house, a job, and several assignments. You are going to have two weeks to settle in, and then you will be shadowed by Californian agents. Do you understand?”
The woman speaking was tall, a valkyrie, and she looked deadly. Standing to one side of her was the girl Barty had gone home with.
Looking at her, he had to admit he’d probably go home with her again.
Someone else’s hand rose. Someone shouted out a question.
“Why should we help you?”
“Well. Because the options are to take this service, which has a certain amount of leeway, or, considering the qualities for which you were acquired—”
So… you’re pretty normal?
“–will likely end up being field work.”
Barty sighed. Sometimes, he’d fantasized about being kidnapped by a beautiful Californian woman. He looked down at his little book of assignments. He hadn’t imagined it would end up with him being an accountant.
At least they’d given him a promotion.