Escape From Rochester (Camp Nano July’14 project) Character Profile 7

Jun1

This is the seventh in a series of character profiles for my upcoming July Camp Nano Project.

The story follows a large-and-growing group’s flight from Rochester, NY in search of safety from
the monsters and the war.

Galen Strauss

Galen isn’t even a student at R.I.T.

He met Emmett and a group of his friends at a bar – he was hustling pool, and he ended up almost losing, which impressed him.

The third night of pool led to him being invited to one of Anelle’s famous parties, which led to The Girl Called Candy inviting him to come to another party. And that, in its turn, led to several things:

For one, he found that Emmett and The Girl Called Candy regularly played pool at another downtown bar on Thursday nights. For another, he found that they had a Friday night poker game – and managed to win himself an invitation.

For a sideline, he and The Girl Called Candy ended up having a bit of a fling here and there.

And, while he was playing pool on Thursdays and thus couldn’t ever make it to Raven’s swamp-drinking parties, he did end up meeting Ess, who had pretty much been declared Raven’s second-in-command (whatever there was to “command”) at those poker nights, and started spending Sunday nights with Ess’s friends playing Vampire Tag in the local playground.

Galen is a nice even 6 foot tall; he’s slim and athletic looking and, when he’s not hustling either pool or poker, likes to jog and makes a decent living fixing cars. His eyes are greenish hazel, he keeps his chestnut hair cut very short to avoid the curl, and his skin is a dark burnished tan. His hands are long-fingered, and he’s missing the last joint of his left pinkie finger; there are three long scars along his right hand.

People at his current job call him the Truck Whisperer, although, they say, it oughta be the Truck Yeller.

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So, You’ve Managed to Survive the Apocalypse… and the immediate post-apoc no-tech horror…

Jun1

…You’ve managed to survive the end of the world, where 90% of the people didn’t.

You’ve managed to survive the first few horrid years of “shit, how do we feed ourselves?” and so on.

It is now Apoc+5, and you and about 400 other people have managed to form a small, mostly-self-sufficient community.

It’s time to think of the laws, the taxes, the ideals by which your society will be governed, and your input is being asked for – and valued highly.

What are the top tenets of the society as you suggest them?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/723416.html. You can comment here or there.

What Comes Around…

Jun1

I asked for prompts regarding Circles here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to Rix’s Prompt here and is set in the pre-apoc of my Addergoole ‘verse.

“Yeah, man, I’ll see you tomorrow. Par-ty!” Aluph pumped his fist, hoping he sounded enough like the other guys. Joining a frat may not have been the brightest idea he’d ever had. It might have been one of the dumbest ideas that he’d had, actually, but…

…well, but college was weird after Addergoole. And having a frat around him wasn’t quite the same as a crew – wasn’t anything at all like a crew – but it was something, at least. And the way…

…no, even he couldn’t make the way they treated the girls okay, and he’d had four Kept in three years.

…but he didn’t have to do that part and he could play the role most of the time, when they weren’t drunk or stupid or… well, it hadn’t been his best idea.

But he was a little drunk and a little high and none of that really mattered right now. Although the way the dogs in the area all seemed to be whining was a little distressing and the way the streetlights were all going out was a little too funky for words.

Aluph found himself hurrying a little faster. The frat house was up the top of the hill, which wasn’t fun on a good day, and it was up through some of the creepiest houses, which was sometimes fun but not at two in the morning. And there weren’t that many dogs here but right now they were all over the place, whining and whimpering and getting closer and closer… Aluph was running. He’d left that shit behind with Addergoole. He’d left that shit behind with…

His leg went up in the air before the rest of him, and then he was swinging in mid-air under what had to be the giant maple tree in the creepiest house on the hill. He started to spit out a Working, because fuck that shit, only to find that his throat wouldn’t make sound.

“Well, isn’t this fun.” He knew that voice. How did he know that voice? “So Aluph -” Shit, whoever she was, she knew who he was. This wasn’t a random targeting. “You’ve got two choices.”

This wasn’t going well. Being upside down wasn’t helping Aluph’s fuzzy mental state at all, either. “Choices?” he tried to say. But right, he had no voice.

She knew who he was, and she’d shut off his voice – so she knew what he was, and she was probably something similar. This was really bad. Aluph fought against the rope. Damn. Sober, maybe he could’ve gotten down. But he was a long way from sober.

“You can agree to be mine… or I can leave you for the dogs.” As if on cue, the dogs growled, far closer than the last time he’d heard them. “Your call… but they’re hungry.”

He couldn’t see her – who was she? He knew that voice. He knew that… He nodded his head.

“You’ll agree to be mine?”

He nodded again. The dogs sounded very close; he nodded very quickly.

“All right. Say anything else and it’s the dogs.”

Aluph swallowed. “One year.” His voice was rough, but he could talk. “I’ll be yours for one year.”

Tip Circle 😉

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Artist Wanted, a short story for the Giraffe Call

May31

I asked for prompts regarding Circles here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to Kelkyag’s Prompt here and is set in the pre-apoc of my Planners ‘verse.
“The Alma J. Morton Center is auditioning artists.” On the other end of the phone, Tabitha’s voice sounded both tinny and ridiculously high-pitched. “Marsh, Marsh, you have to do this.”

“Auditioning?” Marsha kept her voice low and quiet, the way she always did when talking to Tabitha. “Why is this so cool, Tabitha?”

“…auditioning artists to design and implement a large mural on the theme of ‘life, decay, life.'” Tabitha dropped her voice into a dramatic croon. “Marsh…”

“All right, all right.” Marsha flipped through her sketchbook until she found a corner bare. “Give me the information.”

~

“The Alma J. Morton Center has been, for many years, considered a bit of an enigma in downtown Rochester.” The woman on the other side of the desk leaned forward, putting her weight on her forearms. Her smile invited Marsha to share in the humor. “We’re aware of this. If the Center had a nickle for the times we’ve heard people ask ‘what do they do there, anyway?’ well, then we could launch a multi-media adverting campaign telling people what we do. Since that is not the case…”

“You’re hiring muralists?”

“A muralist, and then assistants as needed for grunt work, yes. “

“To…” Marsha glanced again at the job description. “To create a large mural on the life cycle?” A lightbulb went on in her brain. “That north wall, the one facing the Bausch and Lomb building? The one that’s four floors up before it gets to the window?” She swallowed. “That’s a big mural.”

“It is. Now, I see you brought your portfolio.” The woman held out a sketch book and a 20-pencil box. “While I peruse that, could you please draw at least one concept sketch on the theme of ‘life, decay, life?'”

Tip Circle 😉

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/722645.html. You can comment here or there.

Like Wolves, a story for the Giraffe Call

May31

I asked for prompts regarding Circles here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to Clare’s Prompt here and is set in the post-apoc of my Fae Apoc ‘verse.

They were circling like wolves.

Jenna had gotten her back to a tree, but that wasn’t going to do her much good at all if they attacked. She glanced up: no branches within easy reach. She looked around – they were circling, still. They would get sick of that, soon, and close in for the kill.

The kill. Funny how the word galvanized one. The lowest branch wasn’t all that high up… or maybe she could make a dash for that pine tree there.

No. They might be circling, but they weren’t actually wolves. Wolves would have been more reasonable. Wolves would have backed off when she’d shot one of them, maybe. Maybe they could have been spooked off. These weren’t wolves.

“I don’t have anything.” Her voice was shaky. That wasn’t good; nobody was intimidating by shaky. “I barely have enough to keep myself going.”

“It’ll keep us going a bit longer.” The leader snapped forward, showing his teeth. Pointed teeth, of course. They were all such creps.

And they were circling, closer and closer. She opened her mouth – and the leader snapped his teeth at her again. “Try it pretty thing. You know we eat magic.”

“Of course you do.” Of course the wild dogs would…

…wild dogs would…

…wild dogs…

They were circling like wolves, only a few feet from Jenna and her tree non-safety. Circling like wolves, but if you looked at them, really, really Looked, what you saw…

…wasn’t lupine, it was canine.

Jenna whistled, sharp and high. “Bad dogs.”

The predators stopped circling. One of the smaller ones whined.

“Bad dogs. Sit.” She put every bit of authority behind the word. “Sit. Now.”

To a man, they sat. The leader whined, low and deep in his throat.

“Good boys.” Suddenly, Janna wondered if she had enough treats in her pack – and if jerkey counted as treats.

Tip Circle 😉

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/722218.html. You can comment here or there.

Terroir… a story of Fae post-apoc for the Giraffe Call

May29

I asked for prompts regarding mushrooms here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to Kelkyag’s Prompt here and is set in the post-apoc of my Fae Apoc ‘verse.

It goes with Fairy Rings
and Fairy Ring Shortcuts, probably before both

“It’s terroir,” Nacelle explained. “‘A sense of place.’ It’s what gets into the plants – or, in this case, the fungi – and changes everything.”

She tossed out a half-dozen mushrooms. They all looked similar: white button mushrooms. When there had been grocery stores, these had been in every store. “So, these are what the circles are made of, right?”

Babbit had been Bronn’s apprentice, of sorts. Now the little rabbit was Nacelle’s apprentice. “Right. The circles are just little mushrooms, nothing important. Wait, are you harvesting the mushrooms from the circles?”

“No. Not exactly. What I did was arrange for an extra quarter-circle of fungi at each location. And then…” She sliced into the mushrooms and offered up a few samples to the rabbit. “Then, we taste. And when we taste, we can see, or rather smell and taste…”

“Terroir.” Babbit nodded. “And use that…. to navigate the fairy circles?”

“Well.” Nacelle flapped her wings. “Unlike you and Bronn, I’m not a dirt creature.”

“And yet you’re navigating via dirt.”

Tip ‘Shroom 😉

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/721945.html. You can comment here or there.

Trip-tripping through the Apoc, a short story of Fae Apoc for the Giraffe Call.

May26

I asked for prompts regarding mushrooms here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to KC OBrien’s Prompt here and is set in the post-apoc of my Fae Apoc ‘verse.

Eating the ‘shrooms before dinner had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time.

Cliff blinked again at the television. He thought they’d been watching the news – what was Godzilla doing rampaging through downtown?

It had seemed like a really good idea; then again, most things Skyler suggested seemed like good ideas at the time. “Come on, family dinners are boring. I mean, your family’s dinners are boring. Mine are just hell. And I got these really awesome ‘shrooms from Emerson Roan.”

“Maaan….” And that had been all it took. To be fair, Emerson Roan always had the best everything.

Now… Now Clifford was trying to act natural, which wasn’t easy on a normal trip, while across the table Skyler was laughing. Of course, Skyler couldn’t see the tv.

Finally, Cliff caught sight of his father’s face, and the nervous look his little sister was wearing. He swallowed, and decided that Godzilla attacking downtown was worth clarifying, even if maybe it got him in trouble. “Did… did you change the channel?”

“No.” His father was looking even paler. “No, this is still the news.”

“Did I just see…”

“It was a dinosaur,” his little sister informed him. Beatrice enjoyed informing everyone of everything. “But dinosaurs are all gone.”

“Oh.” Cliff stuffed some food in his face to give himself a moment.

“This isn’t right.” His mother had been quiet; his mother was almost always quiet, unless Cliff was in trouble. Now, he looked at her. “Dino-” His fork clattered to the floor.

It had to be the mushrooms. It had to be the ‘shrooms. Because otherwise, on top of Godzilla downtown… Cliff’s mother had turned into a copper-skinned elf.

Tip ‘Shroom 😉

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/721800.html. You can comment here or there.

Fairy Ring Shortcuts… a story of Fae post-apoc for the Giraffe Call

May26

I asked for prompts regarding mushrooms here for The MicroPrompt Giraffe Call. This is written to Clare’s Prompt here and is set in the post-apoc of my Fae Apoc ‘verse.

It goes with Fairy Rings

Nacelle hated using the fairy rings.

Bronn had created them, but Bronn was a badger Change – had been a badger Change, she supposed – and it pleased him endlessly to pop up from the dirt as if he had actually taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque.

Nacelle was not a badger Change; she was a fairy Change, if such a thing wasn’t totally redundant, and popping up through the ground got dirt in crevices she hadn’t even known she had.

But the fairy ring network was the absolute best for travel – and the absolute hands-down premier way to get truffles and other very, very tasty mushrooms. Bronn must have had some pig in his background, because every one of his mushroom rings led straight to some of the best mushroom soil in the world.

And they really were all over the world, although generally at least three hundred miles apart in any given direction, often more. Nacelle hated them… but she used them, because in her line of work, it didn’t really do to be stuck in one place, and stuck-in-one-place was what most people were, this far after the End War.

She made a face as she shook her way out of the ground. She really needed some wild strawberries, and they were in season here sooner than anywhere else on the planet.

She opened her eyes, once she was sure the dirt was out of them.

A human child was staring at her, its mouth open and its hands flailing wildly.

Tip ‘Shroom 😉

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