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dialecticdreamer has posted here a longer answer to my So, You’ve Manage to Survive the Apocalypse… and the immediate post-apoc no-tech horror…question here and is requesting feedback.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/726170.html. You can comment here or there.
So, in Addergoole East (at least early-timeline), Kailani/Dean Storm has chosen to go with Houses of the Harry Potter sort.
I am thinking of having her (she is a very nerdy young lady with a serious academic bent) name them after the four/five classical Greek/Latin elements.
Thoughts? Brainstorming? Scoffing?
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/725782.html. You can comment here or there.
I asked for prompts regarding Packages here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to Kunama_Wolf’s Prompt here.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”
Pretza had carried easier things. She had, for one, carried the entire team’s gear up the side of a mountain. She had carried an injured teammate down the side of a mountain. She had once carried a carriage, albeit only for five feet.
She had carried a Edenian tiger “cub” back to its mother – without getting mauled. She had carried Westerosi killer flesh-eating viruses across a lava field. Once, she had carried a bomb through enemy lines, on Narnia, near the Terebinthian front.
All of these things had been easier than this. She was a trained courier; courrying things was what she did. “Easy, easy. You are bouncy, I thought that was just a thing people said.” She adjusted the three layers of Kevlar and wished that the job had been, just this once, not somewhere tropical.
Or that it had come with a bulletproof car. She had never, ever, wanted so badly for her package to not get jostled, and she had carried things that could destroy a planet – if not a solar system – if they were jostled. “Shh, shh. Oh, please, shh. We’re not in safe territory yet.”
She had, once, led three schoolchildren to safety through a mountain range that had no name except Death in any language. That had been nerve-wracking. This, this was harder. “Come on, little one, how about a finger for now? Here, I know it’s not green, but it’ll have to do.”
The Thalassan royalty had paid Pretza very well. They would pay her three times as well if she got her little package across the border and into the Orion Free Territory – well enough that she could, if she chose to, easily retire. If she failed… and Pretza had never failed… they would not need to punish her, because she would already be dead.
“There you go. There you go. Shh, now, that’s a girl. Just a few more miles.”
Next: Courier Duty
Tip Package 😉
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/725609.html. You can comment here or there.
This is the tenth in a series of character profiles for my upcoming July Camp Nano Project.
As the gods attack Rochester, a group of R.I.T. students and their friends must get out of the city, before it’s too late.
Kim Cooper – Environmental Science
Kim won’t say that she helped form Oak and Rowan, or that she helped shape it, or anything of the sort – but all of these things are true. Oak and Rowan started when she was a freshman, in part because of a conversation she had with Raven and a few others in a drunken post-gaming-session hangout.
Kim has always been in the background of the sessions – she prefers to listen rather than talk, to suggest rather than demand, to be led rather than to lead – but she has always been there, often ignored but never far from sight.
And the truth is that, while many of the members of Oak and Rowan do have small psychic powers, Kim needed the group far more than others. Her powers woke at puberty, and, while she’s never had a proper Change, neither has she ever had anyone explain any of this to her.
Kim does, as mentioned, play D&D, and – as she’s been friends with Raven since freshman year – she does spend a lot of time hanging out with the Thursday Night Swamp Drink, although she tends to blend into the background – just one of the guys – as she does most places she chooses to be.
She’s average height, just about 5’6″ tall, and slim; her hair hangs perfectly straight down to her shoulders in a line of chestnut brown; most of her is brown – hair, eyes, skin – and she tends to either hunch or, in moments of stress, stand in a very “guard” position: feed shoulder-width apart, shoulders thrown back.
She has never mentioned the feeling of wings that aren’t quite there, but they are always with her; she’s never Changed, but she can flip time back in 30-second intervals in a very small radius.
She’s more comfortable outdoors than in, more comfortable alone than in groups, more comfortable protecting than being protected.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/725416.html. You can comment here or there.
I asked for prompts regarding Circles here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to Thnidu’s Prompt here and plays off of this piece of fan art and the quote below
Many people have speculated that if we knew exactly why a bowl of petunias had thought that we would know a lot more about the nature of the Universe than we do now.
Oh, no, not again.
The bowl of petunias plummeted towards the ground, no room in what it could pretend, loosely, was a brain for anything except a vague and dissatisfied sense of what, if you were going to translate it into Galactic Book Standard, would sound mostly like not again.
It was very good at falling. It had, as fate would have it, far more practice than any single bowl of petunias had any right to.
Of course, it had been a missile not all that long ago, and missiles are, after all, rather designed for falling at high velocity.
But the thing about this particular missile-cum not like that you silly git-petunia bowl, was that it had been hit with reality trans-changers so very often that it had not only died the coward’s deaths, it had not only fallen to earth (or at least something with a ground that was unpleasant to hurt) more times than any one bowl of petunias – or missile – ever dreamed of (inasmuch as bowls of missiles had dreams), but it had come to remember everything, including the transformation.
Now, neither a missile or a bowl have that much memory to hold on to such thoughts. But what this ~thing~ had, whatever the shape it was in at the moment, was the strongest field of morphic resonance ever attributed to a single fictional creation.
So strong, indeed, was this field, that it was named in another universe, by a creature that did not exist at all where the petunia – who had once been a man (or at least one that some people would call such, but some people will call something anything) – had first been born. Yes, indeed, this bowl of – oh, dear, these pieces of a bowl of petunias – had a trans-universal morphic field.
That wasn’t that bad this time. A foul-tempered one-eyed grey tomcat picked himself off, shook himself, and walked off down the road. Somewhere, there would be milk.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/725040.html. You can comment here or there.
Now taking 8 prompts on the theme of Variant
For a master prompt on this call, see here.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/724918.html. You can comment here or there.
~what Professor Pelletier’s Name is? And, if so, is it somewhere I can easily change it?
Help?
Edit: It’s not in the character: Pelletier tag.
Edit: Or on the wiki
Edited again: Her Name-name, her Adult Name, the way Luca’s is Hunting Hawk and Regine’s is Lady of the Lake
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/724701.html. You can comment here or there.
First in a series of stories leading up to my Camp Nano Project – this one stars Lewis.
For information on the events they’re discussing, see faeapoclive and
faeapoclive
“I know a guy on one of the research teams.” Blake had claimed the best seat, the way Blake did, his back to the biggest tree and his left hand next to the cooler.
Lewis had considered doing his usual new-guy-takes-bitch-seat, on the far side with his back to the path, but something about Blake just irritated him, so he sat with the cooler to his right hand and fed sticks into the fire. Technically, they weren’t supposed to have fires out here without staff supervision. Technically, most of them weren’t old enough to drink yet.
Technicalities didn’t seem to matter much with this group… and, unlike other groups he’d hung out with, the real world didn’t seem to bother the group much with those technical issues, either. Not once in his first year here had they been interrupted by campus safety.
“Yeah, they’re digging into those strange ‘shapes’ up in Wales.” As far as Lewis could tell, nobody had asked Blake anything, but that didn’t stop the guy from talking. “Not sure what they think they’ll find.”
“Do you think it’s an ooofo?” Joanne had been drinking when she got here, and was now draped across Lewis’ and Rob’s feet, with one hand splayed over Blake’s. Lewis was spending at least a quarter of his attention keeping her out of the fire, which was probably, if he was being honest with himself, at least part of her intent. “Making the weirdnesses?”
“Well, inasmuch as anyone belives in You. Efff. Ohs…” Blake was going to go off again…
“Carley!” Joanne popped to her feet as if she didn’t have a drop of beer in her. “Carley you came!“
Lewis leaned back against his camp chair and watched them. He had beer, and it was good beer. The fire needed another log, and he added it. Blake started to talk, and Lewis ignored him.
All in all, it was a decent Thursday.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/724272.html. You can comment here or there.
This is the ninth in a series of character profiles for my upcoming July Camp Nano Project.
As the gods attack Rochester, a group of R.I.T. students and their friends must get out of the city, before it’s too late.
Byron Aguilar – Biomedical Sciences
Byron doesn’t actually know Raven, the Oak and Rowan group, or the gaming group – he has a class with Dorian, and thinks she’s cute, but that’s the closest he comes.
He’s in his third year at R.I.T., studying Biomed and aiming to go to med school when he’s done here. He’s always had a knack for first aid – he was a Boy Scout and everything – and considers medicine to be a good growth career as well.
He’s been noting the strange things on the news all summer – but only in that “passing by his Twitter Feed” sort of way, and so not all that commonly. Byron, taking classes four quarters/year as is common for R.I.T., doesn’t really have time to do a whole lot of delving into the news. What free time he has that isn’t spent in schoolwork, he likes to spend watching football and basketball, cooking, and engaging in lapidary and occasional rock-hounding.
Byron isn’t all that tall – 5 foot seven – and he’s stocky, wide for his height. He’s got eyes that are almost red, skin that is a ruddy brown, and short-cropped straight black hair.
His rock-collecting and jewelry-setting is a hobby he learned from his maternal grandfather, who made jewelry professionally until arthritis made it impossible.
He grew up in Burlington, Vermont, and chose R.I.T. not only for the location – not-home but close enough to drive if he wanted – but for its academics. The potential of gods laying claim to the city obviously never made its way into his calculations.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/724026.html. You can comment here or there.
This is the eighth in a series of character profiles for my upcoming July Camp Nano Project.
The story follows the flight of a group – students and their friends – from Rochester, NY; as the world crumbles around them, where can they possibly go for safety?
Sophia Kennedy
Education Major (Theatre Minor), Nazareth College
Nazareth is a good college. It’s good for education, it’s got a solid reputation… and it’s really not the place you go if you want to play Shadowrun. Which is how Sophia ended up spending Tuesday nights – and then Friday nights and then Thursday nights – hanging out at R.I.T.
She didn’t expect it to be her crowd at first – too techy, too male, too numbers-crunchy when she wanted story – but after a bit, she found that if she talked to the right people, she could end up in games she enjoyed.
And then someone mentioned Oak & Rowan, and Soph, who had always been just a little interested in the supernatural, found herself Very Interested. She met Craig there, and Jason, Ess and Galen – and that’s how she found herself settling into lotus at one of Raven’s special gatherings.
Sophia is short, five foot nothing, and looks younger than her calendar age. Her blonde hair falls into chin-length sausage curls – the length an attempt to get it to behave which failed miserably – and her eyes are cornflower blue; people who should know better sometimes call her Little Shirley Temple.
She’s always been an outdoors sort and hopes to teach ecology when she gets out of school; she’s been taking classes for that at University of Rochester during the summer. She has a particular knack for animals that some call uncanny.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/723897.html. You can comment here or there.