On this Date: Addergoole Drabbles of Anatoliy

Oct7

October 7, 2004

“Sorry, no.”

It wasn’t the most interesting job in the world. There were probably a hundred more interesting jobs – including his daytime job. But his boss and the union didn’t care if he moonlighted.

“The girl said no, back off.”

And he got to protect people. Totally worth it.

October 7, 2013

“Keep calm. Everyone, stay calm, and keep moving.”

He’d gotten the call from Smitty last week. The week before, it had been Finn. And Vlad a month before that.

“Keep calm. Keep moving, calmly off the road and into the shelters, everyone.”

It had been Conrad’s call that did it.

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A Week of Settings – Day Two: Blizzarded

Oct4

Walk into the snow and keep walking, don’t turn around and don’t look for landmarks.

If it doesn’t kill you, this might step you into a strange world, where fauns sometimes pop up and goblins take payment in tech.

And if you keep walking…?

Well, if you keep walking, who knows where you’ll end up.

Blizzarded is a setting that started from a random freewrite, and is based primarily in one story. It counts, probably, as fantasy.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/575738.html. You can comment here or there.

One Year Ago / The Cup Part III

Oct4

One year ago today…. well, I wasn’t writing, or at least not posting anything, so I went back a few more days.

Pellinore has appeared in June Again,, Boom, amd Visit From School, and was referenced in Legacy, where JohnWayne showed up.

After The Cup and The Cup, Part II, in that Order


Year 32 of the Addergoole School – at The Ranch
15 years after the beginning of the end of the world; late 2026

Cynara knew she had a reputation for always expecting everything; she liked that reputation, and her habit of preparing for everything made it an easy one to maintain.

She’d planned for Pellinore showing up; she had plans for “former Kept at the door” and plans for “parent of my current Kept showing up” and juxtaposing them hadn’t been hard.

The Grail. That she didn’t have a plan for. General Contingency Plan Three would have to do.

“All right.” She cleared a place on the kitchen table. “Come on, Pellinore. Give me what you’ve got, and we’ll go from there. JohnWayne, go get the maps.”

“…all of them?”

“Ha, no. Get me a blank map of the region, likewise one of the country, one of the continent, and one of the world.” She still thought of it as the country. She wondered if she’d ever stop. “You know where they are, right?”

“Top drawer of the map case.” The boy darted off, leaving Cya and Pellinore to share a glance.

“Was I ever that young?” He pitched his voice quiet; sometimes in the last couple decades he’d learned tact.

“We all were. Notes?”

“Coming.” He dumped his Backpack on a kitchen chair and pulled out a ziplock-bag-encased spiral notebook. “There’s a lot of contradictory rumors and whispers, and lot of ‘if you ask the elder Grigori so-and-so,’ but a lot of the old ones…”

“Yeah. Either died or went into hiding during the war. It’s a place to start, at least.” She held out her hand for the notebook.

It had been a generation since she Kept him. They both paused, just for a heartbeat, and then he obeyed the unspoken command.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/575363.html. You can comment here or there.

On this Date: Addergoole Drabbles of Jamian

Oct3

October 3, 2004

“Give me… four years.” Arnbjorg and Jaya were studiously avoiding each other’s glances, holding their mocha lattes and watching the steam. “Four years, until I’m done with school. I know, the extra year…”

“I can wait for another year. Especially with the kids.”

“I’ll know by then.”

“I hope so.”

October 3, 2013

“Xandro, we have to go.” Jamian handed another duffle to his oldest child. “Here, Dom. Food, clothes.”

“Dadimom…”

“Jame’…”

Dom and Xandro’s objections rode over each other; they both stopped; Jamian sighed. He tried again. “Xandro. Bathroom. Dom. Food. It’s not safe anymore.”

It might not ever be safe again.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/574971.html. You can comment here or there.

I really am Writing, mark one:

Oct3

“…He needs someone to protect him.”

“And you think that that should be me?”

“I think it probably shouldn’t be me. And you need someone who isn’t me.”

“You don’t get to decide what I need anymore.”

From Kuro_Neko’s commissioned continuation of the Ceinwen-and-Thorburn-in-Year10 story

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/574506.html. You can comment here or there.

Gentle Readers, I feel like shit

Sep30

In the past 7 days, I have had:
A nettle in my eyelid
A UTI (If you don’t know, don’t ask) requiring antibiotics
A case of poison sumac that is still pestering me
Friend stress
work stress
stress stress
Hormone stress
House stress

If I am behind in my writing, I think you can understand why

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/574416.html. You can comment here or there.

A thing with ribbons, a drabble of Addergoole, Yr??

Sep27

“There’s an art to this.” She had her hands full of ribbons, red and blue and green and black. It was the only thing on her body, except the high-heeled shoes.

“An art?” He lay sprawled across the bed, watching her. He liked watching her; his eyes tracked the sway of her ass, the way the ribbons trailed across her breasts, the way one foot moved in front of the other. She, on the other hand, wasn’t looking at him. She didn’t, often, never had, really.

“An art. A craft, if you will, a skill, a decoration.”

“I don’t want to be decorated.” Her hands were obscured by the ribbons; he couldn’t see what she was taking out of the dresser. “What are you doing?”

“Most arts have their tools.”

“Tools? Not just the ribbons?” Those ribbons trailed down her back lie curls of hair, although her hair was now cropped short, baring her neck. Once, he’d watched the black-blue locks make little s-curves across her spine. Now he tried for a look at her hands, only to be foiled again and again by the turn of her hip, the drapes of the ribbons.

“Of course not. Don’t… that would be silly.” She twisted one arm behind her back, just as she pivoted on her heel to face him. She was smiling. He wasn’t used to her face with a smile on it. He wasn’t used to the way it lit her up, the way it hitched something deep in his throat.

“I’m not silly.” He frowned at her over the thumping of his heart. “I want to know what you’re doing.”

“We all have wants.” She crossed the distance between them, too fast, far too fast for her short legs. “Do you want to know what I want?”

The ribbons draping off of her breasts were nearly touching him. He swallowed and tried anyway. “Do you want to know what I want?”

“Of course.” She smirked at him, as if she knew it wasn’t the answer he’d expected. “And do you?”

It was a test, wasn’t it? “Yes?”

“Well, then.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/573996.html. You can comment here or there.

Basalt, his First year

Sep23

Eighth in a series of character-building vignettes following a bunch of characters through their time at Addergoole & beyond.

Basalt shows up in Addergoole: Year 9 as Ahouva’s rescuer-slash-Keeper; Thorburn shows up as Ceinwen’s Keeper, and Brydan and Indigo have passing mention through the series.

“Oh, Bry, he’s something else.”

Basalt hadn’t been aware he’d dazed out until the voice brought him back into consciousness. Being around Brydan seemed to do that to him, especially in the last week. Since the dance. Since he’d kissed her, and told her she was an angel and…

…the rest was a little fuzzy. Basalt had drunk more than he ought to, but the booze had been flowing freely, and he’d always been able to hold his liquor before that.

He blinked up at Brydan. He hadn’t been told to move yet, but he didn’t really mind. Kneeling with his head on her lap was one of the more comfortable ways he could think of to pass the afternoon.

She was frowning, however, which wasn’t as good. “Indigo. I don’t recall inviting you in.”

“You gave me a blanket invitation, remember? And I wanted to show off mine, but you’ve beaten me to it, as usual.”

Even where he was, Basalt could hear the growl from the doorway. His shoulders tensed. He didn’t mind being in Brydan’s lap, but it was going to be hard to defend her if he was stuck here.

She patted his shoulder. “It’s all right, sweetie. You can move.”

He didn’t want to, not really. But he did, standing, stretching, and getting into a nice bodyguard position looming just behind Brydan’s left shoulder.

He didn’t want to look at the other people in the room, either, but he did. There was something about the woman’s voice that made what he and Brydan were doing sound dirty somehow, instead of just right and proper. And the growl…

Yeah, he’d been afraid of that. The woman was the blonde-and-sometimes-blue girl, Indigo, one of Brydan’s friends and in the same Mentorship as Brydan. The other… yeah. Basalt met Thorburn’s eyes and shrugged.

The other guy showed all his teeth, in something that was definitely not a smile. Basalt just shrugged again. It could get embarrassing, sure. But if Brydan was anything like Indigo…

“He’s pretty awesome, isn’t he?” Brydan patted Basalt’s shoulder.

He straightened up a little bit and smiled at her. “So are you, miss.”

Basalt: His First Year
Nyyrikki: Her First Year
Orliath: Her Second Year
Cynara: Her Second Year

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