Today’s theme is “healing & growth.”
The call is here.
Leave a prompt (or several) and Ysabet will write a poem to your prompt.
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If You Want to Be A Samurai, a continuation of Doomsday for the Giraffe Call
2 continuations were anonymously paid for; this is ![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexseanchai‘s requested continuation of the “Samurai” thread
Gonna be a Samurai
Gonna Learn how to be a Samurai and
Being a Samurai Takes Work.
First Year
“Dancing is a good idea, Austin, Sianna. It teaches balance, rhythm, and a sense of where your body is n relation to your partner.”
It turned out that almost everything was useful to learning how to be a samurai, at least to hear Miss Ascha tell it. But the weird thing was, everything was also useful to learning how to be a dancer, like Sianna – even swords-training – or a teacher, like Ethelwin wanted to be – even the meditation exercises – or even a bounty hunter, which is what Sweetbriar wanted to be this week.
Austin wasn’t sure if Miss Ascha was right; he wasn’t even sure if she was being honest or if she was just encouraging them to learn their math and dancing and meditation. But Professor Inazuma and Principal Doomsday agreed with Miss Ascha, yes. Dancing was useful for being a samurai. Addition and subtraction were useful for being a samurai. And science and history were very very useful.
They were his teachers, and Austin was going to have to listen to them if he wanted to be a samurai.
Second Year
“I don’t see why Sianna and Sweetbriar can’t run with you, Austin. You all need an escort, after all.”
“They’re going to run slow.“
“Well, isn’t that the point?” Miss Ascha could sound so reasonable when she was being so stubborn and difficult. “To see the city and understand it?”
“And to run.“
“Well, I’ll tell you what. You try it for two weeks, and if it leaves you miserable, then I will come up with another solution. But Ammon is willing to take the time to run with the three of you, and not many on the staff have that time or inclination.”
Austin had run all over his home town alone, before he came here. But he understood that he’d have to follow rules if he wanted to be a samurai. “Yes, Miss Ascha.”
Third Year
“And then the pre-collapse Americans… Yes, Austin?”
“Were they really shipping food all over the world?”
Professor Lily pulled another map down. This one had lines drawn all over it. “Many times they were shipping food to another country, like this, another continent,” she pointed at the map, “and then shipping a very similar food back from that continent. But most Americans in those days didn’t farm. Most people in affluent nations had never seen a farm, much less worked on one, as you have.”
“You’ve worked on a farm?” Sweetbriar had to know that already, didn’t she? But she turned around and stared at him.
“Yeah? Where’d you grow up?”
“Fishing boats.”
It explained a lot about his classmate, but Austin was more interested, right now, in what Professor Lily was talking about. “Didn’t anyone tell them how to do it more reasonably?”
“What sort of authority do you think would have done that, Austin? What sort does it now?”
“Well, whoever runs the town, right?”
From the look on Miss Lily’s face, Austin could tell that he was going to have to be a samurai farmer to make anything work out sensibly.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/799478.html. You can comment here or there.
There Are Always Choices
After And We Are Not Monsters.
The girl called Rohanna did not take well to the collar.
Viatrix had sympathy for that. Nobody in their house had ever taken well to submission and, to the girl, they were the enemy. They had stolen her from her crew at hawthorn-point.
What she did not have was tolerance. “No.” She knew she was getting sharp, and could not manage to soften her tone. “No, what did I say?”
Rohanna snarled. “If I washed the floor I didn’t have to wash the dishes.”
“Try again, little mage.”
“Don’t call me that!” Rohanna swung back from Via’s hand. “If I cleaned the floor… well… I didn’t have to wash the dishes.”
“Better.” This time, Via caught Rohanna’s collar. “So. Floor again, or dishes. Your choice.”
~
The boy – not a boy, the Kept – named Kavan didn’t know quite what to do with, about, or for Baram.
It was mutual. Baram found that the slender fae with the fragile-looking body brought out memories, and he’d never been very comfortable with the sort of memories he was getting now. He found that the not-kid brought out a protective urge, and for the first time that he could functionally remember, the urge was meet, right, and by the Law. And he found that the little Kept frustrated the living shit out of him, in large part by being terrified.
“Your choice,” he repeated. Again. “My bed or the couch-bed.”
“Whatever my master wants.” Kavan stared at the ground
“Your master. Wants you to choose.”
~
The one called Ardell could be made to see sense.
The other one, the one named Delaney, was rabid. She hissed, spat and swore, none of it in any way useful. It seemed she knew the Boss, and wanted the Boss to help them. Everything else was irrelevant.
So Jaelie spoke to Ardell. “The Boss is busy, cleaning up after the people you led here.”
“I knew you could handle them.” The man was insufferably smug. “I knew Baram could handle them. He’s as tough as a truck.”
“Tougher. But you brought them to our door, and that causes problems.”
Delaney said something. Jaelie watched Ardell. “So. We’re gonna need oaths, or we’re gonna need to take information from your mind. Your choice.”
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Signal Boost: LB-Lee’s Writeathon #promptcall
Cats and Grandmas, a story(beginning) of Beryl and Radar for the Giraffe Call
To eseme‘s prompt
The Grandmothers, as Aunt Eva tended to call them, had been on Beryl’s case recently about The Cat.
They didn’t all have the Spark, they didn’t all know first-hand what The Damned Cat was, but they all knew, and they all seemed to think that, since Beryl could talk to (or hear) the Cat, then it was her sacred duty to do whatever it was they wanted her to do about the Cat.
She’s stopped listening after a while, and when that had gotten her full-name-scolded (and reminded that she was not currently the Aunt, no matter what the cards seemed to hold, and would thus be respectful, thank-you-very-much), she had tried dodging questions.
When that hadn’t worked, she’d decided to take the problem to the source and ask Radar and Lam what she should do.
Lam was, predictably, no help at all. “Bite them.” The tiny Siamese kitten groomed herself between answers. “Then growl and hiss until they go away.”
Radar, more surprisingly, gave the matter some thought. “They want to know what I am, and why Lam exists, yes?”
“What you want, yes, and ‘why you made Lam.'” Beryl petted Radar behind the ear, where he best liked being petted. “They don’t listen when I say that you didn’t make her.”
“They wouldn’t want to. It means someone else is doing something they’ve forgotten how to do.” The orange tabby (today, at least, he was an orange tabby) sighed, an angry huff. “Well, child-kitten, I suppose we’re going to have to go into the attic.”
“Aunt Eva’s attic?” Aunt Eva’s attic was a terrifying place.
“No.” At least this time, he didn’t sound as if she was being stupid. “Aunt Bea’s attic. I’d suggest you bring gloves.”
Next: Cat’s in the… Attic
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Oil & Water
Thimbleful Thursday is a new microfic prompt site (mine!). This week’s prompt was “Oil & Water” and the word limit was 200 (180-200).
I barely made it in at 220.
“You have to understand.” The cultural attaché was using the high-pitched voice that meant that not only did Tyre have to understand, but that she was failing at this simple task.
Tyre was used to this from cultural-attaché-sorts, and did not take it personally. “I am trying, I promise you. Please continue.”
As always, the slightly baffled look served to soothe. “The Sureare and the Unbling, they are like – like oil and water. They do not work together, they do not talk together, they do not sit together for a fancy dinner, no matter who we are ‘honoring.'” The attaché managed to making “honoring” sound like a perversion.
Perhaps in their culture, it was. But Tyre had a job to do, and she was going to do it. “Oil and water, hrrm?”
“That is what I said, Ambassador.”
“Let us see, then. Oil and water need mustard. Somebody tangy and a little astringent who can rub up against the ‘oil.’ Would you say the ‘oil’ is the Sureare?” Tyre didn’t wait for a response. “So, that would be… the Adlyma. Invite a group of five Adlyma, say, their chiefs. And we’ll need an agitator. Pavlin Ajanae should do well. Don’t forget to limit the entourage to four.” Tyre smiled brightly at the attaché. “Or do I still not understand?”
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/798038.html. You can comment here or there.
A Week in Alder
The Highlights
A Few Stories
Other Soldiers, Other Fates (posted on Patreon for Reiassan)
Wildlife Refuge, a Fae Apoc story
Seasons’ Change, a fantasy-style story
Tell me Things
New Novellete-Series Idea
My Serials
Jumping Rings Chapter Five: Thrust
Edally Academy Chapter Seven: Classes and Challenges
A Piece of my Life
The Falls at Taughannock
Weird Summer
Other People
Doomsday Academy: First Day of Math by
Possibly all of my Djinni Icons
K Orion Fray’s Inspiration Wednesday: Mountains, Gandalf!
New Writing Prompt Site: Thimbleful Thursdays
Giraffe Business
Did You Know (Giraffe Call Commissions still open)
Two Continuations Anonymously Paid For (GiraffeCall)
Feedback Requested
Please help me narrow down this tag to 5 or ten choices…
Reiassan/Edally Wiki Question
Photos
Anyboy Want some Kale?
The People… They look Like Ants…
Taugannock Falls St. Park – looking out across the gorge to the lake
My Life
8 Years Ago in my Personal Life
Landing Pages
Langing Page: Doomsday (new)
Landing Page: Dragons Next Door (updated)
Links
Fursona Generator
Stories
Doomsday
Aquilina at School
Going to Learn How to be A Samurai
Being a Samurai takes Work
Visiting Doomsday
Addergoole
Outtake: Things Need to Change (posted at Addergoole.com/9)
Adergoole/Criminal Minds Xover
Fae Apoc
How do you know that it won’t work?
Aunt Family
How the Family Does Things
Reiassan
With the Goats
The Goat Legacy
Tír Na Cali
Some Jobs Just Aren’t Worth the Risk
One-Offs
Entanglement for 3 Word Wednesday
Friday Flash: Intelligent Life
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/797870.html. You can comment here or there.
September Theme Poll Open!
This month’s Theme Poll options are:
1. Stranded World (Setting)
2. Fae Apoc (Setting)
3. Love Stories (motif)
4. Gender-funkery (motif)
5. Hurt/Comfort (motif)
6. Impossible situations (motif)
7. micro-flash-fiction (type)
8. Demifiction (type)
9. Vas’ World (Setting)
10. Dragons Next Door (Setting)
Want a vote?
Become a Patreon Patron at the $5 level or higher OR Donate via Paypal at least $5.
(If you have donated or commissioned $5 or more during August, then you are entitled to a vote, yes)
During the month, I will post at least one piece a week, probably more, on that theme. If I chose to do a Giraffe Call that month, that will be the theme of the Call. If the Patreon campaign reaches the $75 goal level, the short story will be written within that theme.
If Patreon gets to the $150/month goal level, there will be a Q&A with a character that fits into the month’s theme.
Progress towards first Patreon Goal:
Donations and Patreon patronage help:
- Pay for web space
- Buy character art from crowdfunded artists
- Make posting free fiction, like web-serials & microfics, a cost-viable use of time.
- Buy the author tasty teas
And I appreciate every cent!
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/797666.html. You can comment here or there.
Weird Summer – a blog post
It’s been a weird summer, and an even weirder week.
The weather’s been off all summer – spring storms and autumn chills through July and August, grey days and damp nights and not a day in the nineties – hardly a day in the 80’s! And I’ve been a little off, too. Not entirely sure why, but it’s been a bit harder to get excited, and bit harder to hold on to energy, all summer – all year – long.
These things happen, and as we go into September, I’m trying to muster energy to … well, to have energy.
The weather might be chilly, but it’s lovely for hiking; I want to do more of that in the next few weeks. Then there’s the wedding – Best Friend Evar is getting married at the end of the month – AND she & Fiance are coming to visit this weekend!
(gonna be so much good food, and so much awesome hanging out, and so much… everything!)
(I don’t get to see them often; they live ~4 hours away and are Very Busy People)
So! There are things to be excited about, and one of my goals for September is to work on remembering that.
The other goals: remember I’m trying to lose weight, not gain it; and actively work on submitting stories to anthologies/contests.
Oh, and get that Kickstarter thing going.
I can do this!
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/797402.html. You can comment here or there.
Being A Samurai Takes Work, a drabble of Doomsday Academy for the Giraffe Call
A commissioned continuation from (I believe) thnidu.
After Gonna Be a Samurai
and Going to Learn How to be A Samurai.
Being a samurai took a lot of discipline. That’s what the books had said. Discipline and hard work and kimono and…
And apparently it took math classes, too, history classes, watching tv shows called anime from before the collapse, and, peh, being nice to all his fellow students. Even the silly ones.
And it took listening to Miss Ascha as if she were his sensei. Which, Austin supposed, she really was. And that meant more math and history and geology and, well, more being nice to his fellow students.
He bowed very politely to Sianna. If she wanted him to learn how to waltz, well, he guessed he was learning the waltz with her.
I don’t have a strong mental image for Austin yet (except touseled light-brown hair), but Sianna looks more or less like this
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