Hunting Junie, Part I (A story of Dragons Next Door) (@rix_Scaedu)

Mar10

After this story, part one of three as part of a fixtion exchange with Rix_Scaedu

“Spotted Team A.” Azdemkious hissed to Kelkathian. “Have you seen either of the others yet?”

“No, but after what we did to Team C’s car yesterday, they’re probably still crying.” Kel grinned, showing a mouthful of sharp teeth.

Az shuddered appreciatively. “Later. Not with a small one around.” He tapped the purple notebook that was Juniper’s pride and joy pointedly. “We’re on duty now.”

“Duty, duty, schmooty, you’re no fun when you’re working, Azdemkious.”

“That’s the point, Kelkathian. You’ll have your fun later.” Az slithered down to the lower pocket and peered out the ID slot. “All right. Team A is coming up on the left now. The harpies…?”

“Not in position yet. You’re going to have to deal with this one yourself.”

“Got it. Guard the fort.” Az kissed the two tiny grappling hooks, then tossed them at the car’s back window. If the timing was right… yes, there it went. Az swung into the back seat and clambered silently towards the front.

Team A consisted, today, or two tall humans, a male and a female, both of them dressed in what looked like Normal Everyday Human Clothing, if you ignored the radios plugged into their ears and the weapons on their hips. Az wasn’t ignoring those. Az was there to make those stop.

One thing the gremlins had learned and relearned about races that made technology was that the more of it an individual carried or surrounded themselves with, the more helpless they were without it. These ones, these human sorts, they seemed to hardly breathe without checking their cell phones, and every time Juniper deviated from her route – which, being a child, she did with some frequency – they mapped it on their little mapping doohickey.

There wasn’t time for a subtle approach. They were going to make the grab, and the harpies were nowhere to be seen. Azdemkious hoped there weren’t any friendlies too close to the car and, eyes closed, let off a gremlin EMP.

next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/298803.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/297807.html. You can comment here or there.

Unicorn-Chaste, a story of the Unicorn/Factory for the February Giraffe Call

Mar9

For flofx‘s commissioned prompt, a continuation of
Unicorn Chase (LJ) and Unicorn Chased (LJ).

Unicorn Factory has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ

I have a feeling this one needs a content warning.

Infe noticed the changes in her daughter, as the unicorns filled the village.

At first, Felfen lit up, becoming happy in a way she hadn’t since Infe and Fennix had taken jobs at the Factory. She began making more friends, her skin turned brown with the sun and her hair bleached fairer, and she smiled, all the time, she smiled.

Infe smiled more, too, and Fennix did, proud that their daughter was helping the Town and the Factory, proud that she was becoming a valuable member of the community. More than that pride, though, they were happy that their flower was blooming again, that their lovely daughter was smiling and playing again.

And then something started happening.

Infe wasn’t sure, at first. Felfen was at that age where girls could be smiling one moment, crying the next, and shouting with rage the next. The frowns could have been passing thunderstorms. The worry lines could have been a friend speaking unkindly to her. The smiles were still there, at least. She was still spotting unicorns…

…at first. When Felfen started letting Angwe, a year younger than her, take the credit for the unicorn spottings, Infe knew something was wrong. She took her twenty minutes on lunch one day, and walked out in the Town, to see what was going on.

There. There was Infe’s daughter, the jewel of her life, sneaking across the market square, and there, there was a shadow Infe couldn’t quite see, and Felfen blanching.

“Leave me alone,” the girl muttered, backing towards the fountain. “Leave me alone. I won’t tell them, anymore, but why won’t you just go away? Please?”

Infe didn’t know what the unicorn did, but her daughter backed up until her legs hit the low wall of the fountain’s surround. “Please, please. I don’t know why you’re following me. I don’t know…”

For one moment, one moment of horrible, awful clarity, Infe could see the unicorn. It stood at the shoulder almost as tall as a man, and its horn was long, and pristine white, its hooves golden, its tangled tail and mane streaked with the same gold color.

And its horn was leveled straight at Felfen.

Infe screamed. Across the square, someone else took up the panic, and someone else. They could all, it seemed, see the creature. And they were all terrified for Infe’s daughter.

Only she, Felfen, staring at the creature, seemed calm. Frozen in terror? No. Infe made herself calm down, and walked, as quietly as she could towards her daughter. Not frozen, but ready.

“I understand,” the girl whispered. The look in her eyes… Infe remembered that look on her own face, many many years ago in a wedding bed. “I’m ready.”

“Fel…” but it was too late. The unicorn was piercing her daughter with its horn, the blood dripping into the fountain, staining it red, staining Felfen’s dress red. Her daughter’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she fell into the water.

And the unicorn was gone from Infe’s vision, the water pure and clear, and Felfen, un-wounded, floated like a lily in the fountain pool.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/297419.html. You can comment here or there.

Weekly Summary!

Mar9

Feedback Wanted!
Giraffe incentive: Podcast (LJ)
Feedback Roundup (LJ)
VOTE on upcoming THEMES (LJ)

PSA: Open for Business (LJ) Commissioning rates and notes

In the last week, I wrote for the February Giraffe Call:
One Off:
Wine of the Swan Maidens (LJ)
Engineered (LJ)
Pantry (LJ)
Fae Apoc:
Briars & Vinegar: Eating the Roses (LJ)
Early for Roses (LJ)
A New Flower (LJ)
On the Adriatic (LJ)
Family Vintage (LJ)
Addergoole
What They Needed (LJ) Ambrus, 1984
Unicorn/Factory
Making Harvest Wreathes (LJ)
Tír na Cali
Planting Future (LJ)
Success (LJ)
Dragons Next Door
Encyclopedia Draconis (LJ) – A Summary of Sentient Hunters of Other Sentient Species in Dragons Next Door

For the January Giraffe Call:

Unicorn/Factory
Productive (LJ)
The Governors (LJ)
Right and Wrong (LJ)
Fae Apoc:
Making New History (LJ)
Trusting in History (LJ)
Fairy Town:
About the Want (LJ)
What You Need (LJ)
Guarding the Church (LJ)
Addergoole:
Paying the Rent (LJ) (Baram’s Jaelie and her Wish)
Bug Invasion
Poison (LJ)

And for no call at all:
Facets
The Beginning (LJ) [Donor Perk]
Rin/Girey
Under-Handed (LJ) [Beta]
Dragons:
Showing Off (LJ) [Donor Perk: Jin]
Backpack Gremlins (LJ)
Tir Na Cali:
Cali-Novel 17-end (LJ) {Cali-Beta}
Addergoole:
Ciara: Wolf in the Hand ()
One-off:
Still (LJ), a story for my Mother.

I also did a meme:
Ask me about my characters (LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/297030.html. You can comment here or there.

Giraffe Call Summary – February Giraffe Call

Mar9

For the February Giraffe Call (LJ):

39 stories written.
18 total prompters, 2 new
7 people donated a total of $80, 1 of which were new.
$5 of donations were left unclaimed.
Link to Call: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/273042.html

And the Stories!

Linkback story:
(LJ)

One-off
The most Interesting Wine (LJ)
Salvation in a Bottle ()
Bleed it Out (LJ)
Rose Petals (LJ)
Twelve Roses and One ()
Pure Snow White (LJ)
Wine of the Swan Maidens (LJ)
Pantry (LJ)

Science!
Engineered (LJ)
Re-Engineered (LJ)

Fae Apoc
Bitter Vintage (LJ)
Late Planting ()
Early for Roses (LJ)
A New Flower (LJ)
On the Adriatic (LJ)
Family Vintage (LJ)

Briars and Vinegar (LJ)
Briars and Vinegar: Blood on the Snow (LJ)
Briars and Vinegar: For 100 Years (LJ)
Briars and Vinegar: Sharp and Bitter (LJ)
Briars & Vinegar: Eating the Roses (LJ)

Addergoole
Picking Grapes (LJ) (Shiva & Niki)
Love and Hospitality (LJ) (Wren & Nydia)
What They Needed (LJ) Ambrus, 1984
Yr8
Thorny Disposition (LJ)
Planting Seeds (LJ)

The Aunt Family
…and Thou (LJ)

Facets
The Sweet Rose of Morning (Did not Xpost)

Unicorn/Factory
Pure as… (LJ)
Making Harvest Wreathes (LJ)

Stranded
Not That Kind Of Girl (LJ)
Roses (LJ) [Summer]
Admirer (LJ) [Winter]
Vas
Vinting Love (LJ)

Tír na Cali
Second Pressing (LJ)
Planting Future (LJ)
Success (LJ)

Planners
Rose of the City (LJ)

Dragons Next Door
Encyclopedia Draconis (LJ) – A Summary of Sentient Hunters of Other Sentient Species in Dragons Next Door
()

Bug Invasion
Poison (LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/296809.html. You can comment here or there.

Stranded World Landing Page

Mar9

“So,” Winter explained to his younger sisters, “the world is like a giant spaghetti squash.” He jammed his fork into their dinner. “Everything looks solid, right? But,” he twisted the fork, “if you grab things just the right way, you can see how it’s all made of long strands. Except in the case of the world, the strands are magic.”

His three younger sisters, used to taking Big Brother as the authority on everything, were still dubious.

The siblings Winter, Autumn, Summer, and Spring each manipulate and read the strands of the world in their own way, while attempting to live within the world as normally as possible. The Stranded World is contemporary fantasy, slice-of-life with a magical overtone, following the threads of their lives.

These stories are primarily one-shot pieces bouncing around the lives of the four siblings.

Good stories to Start With

Continue reading →

Family Vintage, a story of Fae Apoc for the Giraffe Call @anke

Mar8

For [personal profile] anke‘s prompt. Faerie Apocalypse has a landing page here here (and on LJ).

After On the River

The current owner of the house Gannon had built was a handsome man, except his family resemblance to Gannon, with a lovely wife and two teenaged children. He was, as most of Gannon’s descendants were, willing to open up his house – borrowed house, he called it, which was kind – to his ancestor.

And, unlike many of his ancestors – they’d known better, Gannon thought with wry amusement – this one, Steve, was willing to open his liquor cabinet and his wine cellar, too, once the kids were sent upstairs.

He pulled out a case of wine so old, the crate itself was fading and the flag only had thirteen stars. “Do you remember this?”

Gannon squinted at it. “Damn, damn, just barely, but I do. I brought that back to… to my granddaughter. Bramble. I wonder where she is now.”

“Me, too,” Steve admitted. “Grandma Bramble stopped by once, when I was about eight. She’s less regular than you are, I’m told.” He pulled out a bottle. “Three left. Seems an occasion to open one.”

“It must be weird,” Gannon commented, as Steve’s wife Phen opened the bottle with an expert twist, “being haunted by your ancestors still living.”

“I always figured it was the curse of being Ellehemaei?” Steve shrugged. He held out three glasses in two hands for his wife to pour, a comfortable, easy partnership clear in their movements. “I mean, isn’t it?”

Gannon shrugged, staring at the old crate of wine. “There was a whole box there, when I dragged that back here.” He didn’t want to think about the family that had kicked him out, so long ago that the land they sent him to barely had a name.

“Yeah.” Steve grinned. “It’s pretty awesome stuff, so it’s been, I’m told, special-occasion wine. Really special occasion. So we don’t break it out often.”

He sniffed the wine. It smelled as good as he remembered, and better. The vintner, he remembered the vintner, half grapevine herself. He wondered if he had any kids with her.

He sipped again. “I’ve visited before.” They’d never opened out the old stuff before… although it had been Steve’s father, or his great-grandfather, before.

But Steve was just grinning. “Never in time to witness the birth of a grandchild.”

Gannon sputtered, and then, staring at them, drank the wine. It really was a good vintage, after all.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/296597.html. You can comment here or there.

Backpack Gremlins, a drabble of Dragons Next Door

Mar8

A much-belated 100 words on the Gremlins mentioned here for [personal profile] kelkyag

Guarding a kid’s backpack was, Azdemkious had to admit, easy work, if a little strange.

Az and Kelkathian had drawn backpack duty this week, trailing Sage’s daughter Junie to school and back, watching her, monkey-wrenching anyone who was stalking her – and there were at least three distinct teams doing so, that Az and Kel had found.

It was, as backpacks went, a nice one. Az had done a stint in WWII in a G.I.’s backpack – now THAT had been a mess. Some sandwich crumbs and a spare long, pointy stick were nothing compared to the places Az’d been.

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/297807.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/296368.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Still, a story for my Mother

Mar8

The forest was still that day.

Not silent; the world was never, no matter what the city-born would have you believe, silent. The trees made their own noise, the animals theirs, the insects their own. The light breeze touched them all, and the hint of rain brushed over them. Quiet, yes, by the standards of the city’s cacophony, but never silent.

But still… that, the forest was. The wind did not rock anything but the smallest twigs. The earth did not shake or shift. The trees stood, as they had stood for aeons, as they would continue to stand, still, when everything else had fallen.

The trees were still there. Still there, much the same they had been when she was a child. Still taller than her, when everyone else had grown short. Still wide enough that she couldn’t wrap her arms around the biggest of them, when sometimes it seemed as if she was holding onto everything. Still quiet, if not silent, and still standing, strong enough to hold her when she leaned, strong enough to cradle her in their branches.

She leaned against Grandmother Oak, the oldest, the quietest, the still-est in all its meanings. She had never failed to find peace here. She had never failed to find strength in the old tree’s solidity, never failed to find a moment of quiet and relaxation leaning against her smooth bark.

And today, today in the quiet of the peaceful day, far from the noise of the city, she did so, again. Still.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/295706.html. You can comment here or there.