Lexember Day 21: A sentence and some worldbuilding

Jan25

I’ve been lax in my worldbuilding with all this WORDbuilding.

Today I am going to go back to a couple words I made earlier,
Ssrussolss, reading-person, and Ssolfutheat, book person.

“A reader, ssrussolss, is one who discerns the ancient texts. A ssolfutheat is one who keeps the books, a librarian.”

The librarian has found a text for the reader.
Has found – the reader for – text, Librarian

Librarians do this; they serve not only as keepers of rare texts (magical, historical, controversial, personal) but also seek them out, perusing the strange corners of the world where books lie.

The readers, in turn, delve deep into these texts, finding meanings from the predecessors, from the Channels, from untrained powers, and divining them for current use.

To find, mafeata
-olp is third person singular present perfect.

futheat is a book, Futheat sha is a text.

cha, chea, choe, chi: for, of, at, in

Mafeatolp – ssrussolss cha – futheat sha, ssolfutheat.

And what will the reader do with that text?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1055097.html. You can comment here or there.

Sting Marydel and the Cliffs of Anterior, Part 4

Jan25

Part one: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1049125.html
Part two: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1049392.html
Part three: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1051270.html

Sting was fast with a door slam. He had practiced on ex-girlfriends, bullies, evangelists, and, once, the cops. But the woman from NABU was faster with her foot, at least when she was expecting it, which she clearly was.

“Mr. Marydel, it is very important that you listen to us.”

Her boot was not getting out of the door. Sting opened it again. “What, national security, safety of the world, that sort of thing?”

She smirked at him. “Very few teenagers are all that interested in saving the world these days. Even if we had a true emergency on our hands, we might be hard-pressed to recruit based on young people’s altruistic urges. No. I want to appeal to your vanity and sense of adventure, your desire to get out of your parents’ house, and your clear lack of interest in attending college. No submitted applications,” she answered before Sting could ask.
“And? Why me? I don’t like fighting, I tend to lose.” It wasn’t exactly true. He’d gotten a lot better at not losing in the last few years, but that was a far cry from winning. “I’m not Army material. I told the recruiter that at the booth, too.” Why wouldn’t she just go away? The rain was dripping down her head and down her team’s wires. That couldn’t be good for anyone.

“We don’t recruit from the same pool as the Army, and Army recruits are almost always unsuited to work for us. Tell me, how much do you know about NABU?”

“Enough to know you’re all experimental stuff. Nobody’s making mechs yet commercially, not even in prototype. And ‘unknown power source’ is just asking for trouble!”

“All of this is true. Now, tell me – how do you know all that?”

Shit. Sting swallowed. “Uh… web search?”

“Mmm-hrrm. And that, Mr. Marydel, is why we want you. It’s also why you’re going to end up signing up with us.”

Next:http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1057725.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1054666.html. You can comment here or there.

Tangled and Tied, a continuation of Fae Apoc for the Christmas Prompt Call (@Rix_Scaedu)

Jan25

This is written to Rix_scaedu‘s commissioned continuation of Bound Up from the Christmas Prompt Call

Fae Apoc, unwilling Keeping, bondage, nudity.

He had not been this clean since last he knelt to the Gyrfalcon, and he was known as a man meticulously groomed and tidy. She had enjoyed every moment of it, of course, but, in a less common move for her, his former Mentor had made certain that he enjoyed it as well.

“She’s not a bad person, as far as these things go.” She ran a brush through his hair, although it was already smooth and shining. “Not cruel. But she is going to be raw, and you’re going to have to be able to handle her being edgy sometimes, and uncertain others.”

He cleared his throat. “She will Own me. There’s…”

“If I hadn’t taught you how to top from the bottom when your mistress needs, then clearly I haven’t taught you nearly enough. Should I bring you back home, first, and educate you?”

First would mean weeks, months, added to his sentence, more time away from the business. “No, Ma’am. I will do as you say.”

“Of course you will. You’ve always been a good boy.” Her lips brushed damply over his forehead. “Here she is now. Stay there.”

He was bound hand and foot, thigh and bicep and chest and cock. To do anything other than stay there would have been to use Workings, and that would only mean that he’d quickly find himself gagged. “Yes, sa’Gyrfalcon.” He bowed his head as much as he could and listened to her heels click on the floor as she walked away.

She didn’t return. The feet that returned were quiet, sandals or slippers, shushing across the floor as if wanting to be unheard. He held very still.

“Oh.” It was a gasp, just as her feet came into view. Ballet flats, pink. Pink. “Oh, wow.”

Oh, wow. Really? “Mistress?” He didn’t let anything but subservience show in his voice. The Gyrfalcon was listening, he was sure of it.

“Andra?” She knelt down next to him, giving the impression of more pinkness – a dress, gods help him, with flowers – and long hair, dirty blonde. “I’m Deitra.”

What, she wanted to make friends? “Pleased to meet you, Deitra.” The Gyrfalcon was listening. The Gyrfalcon would not be pleased if he was rude.

“You Belong to me now.” She caught up some of the ropes holding Andra, seemingly at random, and gave them a very light tug. “For the next year, you are Mine.”

It wasn’t the most elegant of phrasings, but it avoided some of the things he didn’t really want her thinking about that came with the formal wording. What I have belongs to you… “I Belong to you now.” He comforted himself with the fact that he really had no choice in the matter. “For the next year, I am Yours, body and soul.”

She ran a hand over him, pinching one rope and pulling another. “You’re not very mobile like this. Am I supposed to get to know you here, do you think?”

Yes. Here, where his former Mentor could supervise. “I wouldn’t presume to know sa’Gyrfalcon’s motives.”

“Let me see. If I undo this and this, and this,” she plucked three ropes, “that ought to let you walk. Assuming you can?”

That was an interesting question. “I can walk, mistress.”

“Good.” He never saw where the knife came from, but it dealt with the ropes far too quickly for his comfort. When she had loosened his bonds enough that he could stand and walk – albeit hobbled – she tugged him to his feet. “Come on. It’s a short drive but I’d rather get to it sooner rather than later.”

He swallowed an urge to apologize. “As my mistress requires.”

As he walked with clipped, short steps, he realized he was terrified. Terrified, and so very exposed. How was he going to keep her from ruining him?

How was he going to make her happy with him?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1054216.html. You can comment here or there.

Languary Day 20: some more rain

Jan24

I continue to pull sentences from here: https://web.archive.org/web/20130307020009/http://fiziwig.com/conlang/syntax_tests.html
The rain came down.
(came down rain)
The kitten is playing in the rain.
(playing rain-in kitten)
The rain has stopped.
(stopped rain).

fetha, verb, to rain
fetham, noun, rain
felashef, noun, kitten (youth-cat)

dithasha, verb, to descend
hetheta, verb, to play
thea, in
ithtutha, verb, to stopped

Past tense, third person singular is still -iln

The rain came down, Dithashiln fetham

Present tense third person singular is -art

The kitten is playing in the rain, Hethetart fetham-thea felashef

-olp is third person singular present perfect.

The rain has stopped, Ithtutholp fetham.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1054192.html. You can comment here or there.

Languary Day 19: playing with sentences

Jan24

I continue to pull sentences from here: https://web.archive.org/web/20130307020009/http://fiziwig.com/conlang/syntax_tests.html

It’s raining.
(is raining it)

The rain came down.
(came down raining)
The kitten is playing in the rain.
(playing in rain kitten)
The rain has stopped.
(stopped rain). (these 3 later)

fetha, verb, to rain
-am, turning a verb into a noun
fetham, noun, rain

THIS is the interesting part, because both the English and the French for “it rains” use a general pronoun. Il pleut, It/he present-tense-rain
Spanish skips the pronoun, as they often do:
está lloviendo Formal second-person singular to be, present-tense-rain

BUT I think there should be a word indicating the environment is doing something. SO.
fut, here-now place (“it”)

Edited to add: Syntactic Expletive and Impersonal verbs seem to cover this phenomenon.

Present tense third person singular is -art

Present tense, surrounding:
-artfea

It’s raining, Fethartfea fut.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1053890.html. You can comment here or there.

Lessons Learned in School, a ficlet of Dragons Next Door for the Giraffe Call

Jan22

written to kunama_wolf‘s prompt. DnD, new character.

In first grade, Aliany’s classmates included a centaur, three pixies, a harpy, a wood-elf and five other human children. Their school stood at the border between Smokey Knoll, the magic district, and Alton Heights, a human neighborhood, and as such was an integrated classroom.

Aliany’s parents hadn’t been sure, but Aliany was thrilled by her classmates. She wore paper wings to class for a week after Ogarna, the harpy child, showed her how she flew. She turned a pair of her boots into hooves. She made clay tips for her ears. Her teachers, a dweomer-elf mix who could’ve passed as human, spoke to her parents, concerned.

Her parents just smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with aspiring. Even if it’s impossible, you learn something along the way,” her father insisted.

Aliany’s mother bought her a pair of costume pixie wings that year for Christmas, and a children’s alchemy set. “There is magic even for humans,” she assured Aliany, “and flight, and mystery.”

In second grade, Aliany shared her class with a dragon, and her parents, with a cheerful sigh, began building a fireproof rec room in the basement.

Want more?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1053539.html. You can comment here or there.

Languary Day 18: More sentence construction

Jan22

More from https://web.archive.org/web/20130307020009/http://fiziwig.com/conlang/syntax_tests.html

The kitten jumped up.
(Jumped up kitten)
The kitten jumped onto the table.
(Jumped table onto kitten)
My little kitten walked away.
(Walked away kitten-little my)

Verb Object (Object adjective) (adverb) Subject (subject adjective)

Kitten, jumped, table, walked. And Up!

So a kitten is a shefeen, a small cat, or a felashef, a youth-cat.

to Jump: phanfisha

Past tense, third person singular is still -iln, phanfishiln

Table table table. Table is palan

Up is fot

Phanfishiln fot felashef.

Onto, oh Lord… /runs away/ /comes back/

Over, onto, under, shab, shem, shosh

Phanfishiln palan shem felashef.

Towards, away, thim, threm

crap, forgot WALK.

Walk is ssetsse

and my -ro

Ssetsselin* threm felashefeen-ro.

Ssetsselin* threm Lyn.

* because it’s irregular 🙂

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1052990.html. You can comment here or there.

Languary Day 17: More sentence construction.

Jan22

Starting with this thing: https://web.archive.org/web/20130307020009/http://fiziwig.com/conlang/syntax_tests.html

All the people shouted.
Some of the people shouted.
Many of the people shouted twice.

First! People. People is the plural of person!

A Person is a difuf.

All of the people are difufore.

Shout!

Shout is Fassa.

Past tense, third person singular is -iln

But the people are plural!

Okay, then -ilnot.

Fassilnot

VOS, Fassilnot difufore., All of the people shouted.

Or Fassilnot difufara, some of the people shouted.

Many! Many is another word.

dathfuth

And so is twice! Oh lord, numbers.
haph, hash, hat, 1, 2, 3, haphad, hashad, hatad, once, twice, three times.

Fassilnot hashad difufara dathfuth, many of the people shouted twice (Shouted twice people many)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1052900.html. You can comment here or there.

Addergoole in the Apocalypse: Prompts!

Jan22

I have this prompt call open:

It’s 2013, 2013, 2014, 2015. The world started going to shit in 2011. Now, our characters are coming to Addergoole… or trying to get there. Or running away from it. Or just graduating. Or..??

It’s a pretty specific prompt-request, but have at it: Prompts regarding Addergoole students just after the apocalypse.

I’m still looking for prompts!

If you want, look at the tag for this and see if there’s some interaction you want to see. They should all be tagged by the year in which they occur.

Addergoole years:
Year 5 – 1999-2000
Year 9 – 2003-2004
Year 13- 2007-2008
Year 17- 2011-2015 * Apocalypse
Year 19- 2013-2014
Year 23- 2017-2018

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1052659.html. You can comment here or there.

Coming to School

Jan21

Written to [personal profile] inventrix‘s prompt

Mike hadn’t done many of these new student pick-ups – Luke didn’t quite trust him to be adult about it, and he didn’t have the travelling resources that, say, Laurel did – but Tzivyah’s extended, adoptive family were friends of his from his wild days in the seventies and eighties, and the girl herself was a strange case. There hadn’t been a peep on Shira’s radar, to the point where they’d thought that she wouldn’t Change at all without serious prodding, not a whisper from either of the sensitives they employed in the Village, and then all three of them, at once, had come to Regine’s office. Yesterday. Pounding on the door. Insisting that right now, right now someone had to go get Tzivyah.

When your clairvoyant, your clairsensitive and your precognitive agree that urgently, someone goes, right then.

Mike had enlisted the help of a teleporter to drop him outside of town. It was a risk – everyone was very touchy about fae right now, and teleportation was very obviously fae – but Shira had been breathing down his neck so badly he’d thought she might end up getting carried along in the teleport.

Ten feet away from the drop spot, he understood why. Screams were echoing through the small farm community, screams and shouts and pleas. Mike broke into a run. He should have brought Luke. He should have brought Shira. He should have brought an army.

He had himself. The screaming was too far away, and yet it was too close. His skin crawled. Humans could be awful, awful people sometimes – people could be awful people. Mike had broken into a run before he knew it.

Too far, too far. He muttered one Working after another, making himself faster, tougher. He could get there. He had to get there. The screaming was only getting louder and more intense. Someone was panicking, someone was in pain. Not the same someone, probably.

He skidded into a clearing between three buildings. The noise was unbearably loud here, something like twenty people gathered together and all of them panicking. The last time he’d been here, there’d been a quiet fireside orgy going no. Now…

He pulled himself up to his current full height, muttered a Working to deepen his voice a bit, and borrowed Luke’s best teacher voice. “What is going on here?”

He was only a little surprised when it worked. Four people stood up, two worried and reaching for weapons, the other two looking for someone to fix things. He recognized one of them as Tzivyah’s adoptive father.

“Can you help? Someone has to help, please. Make them stop. Make it stop.”

Mike walked towards them with a brusque stride he’d borrowed from Luke. “What’s the problem?”

Tzivyah’s father – Donald, his name was Donald – and the other concerned-looking man began pushing and cajoling the crowd out of the way. “This is Mike Linden-Flower,” Donald explained. “He knows about this sort of thing. He can help.”

“‘Knows about this sort of thing.’” The weapon-wielder on the left was snarling and unimpressed. “You mean he’s one of them.”

Donald raised his chin in defiance. “No. I mean he’s always been one of us. And he knows about this sort of thing. She’s hurting. And they’re…”

Mike’s stomach twisted. Three women were holding down another woman, a young woman that had to be Tzivyah. A fourth was leaning over her with a saw. “What the hell?” he shouted.

The woman with the saw stood up. “They’re hurting her. And they’ll kill her. The horns, the protrusions, they’re causing her pain. And if we don’t cut them off, those people, people out there, they’ll kill her.”

Mike muttered under his breath, both swearing at the madness of people and making himself stronger. “So you’d maim her, torture her? No.” He scooped the girl up in his arms. “Hang in there, kiddo,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. She had bony protrusions coming out everywhere, and the ones that had been cut were leaking ichor. “I’m going to get you somewhere safer, and help you deal with this, okay?”

He waited only long enough for a tiny nod before raising his voice for the crowd. “She is coming with me. And nobody is going to stop me.”

There were benefits in being able to sway the mood of an entire mob. If later they told themselves that the devil had taken Tzivyah, that was fine. Tzivyah would have been taken, and she would be safe.

Mike cuddled her as carefully as he could, muttering Working after Working to heal her ills as he strode out of the village.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1052378.html. You can comment here or there.