Reveals _Something_? a drabble of Vas’ World for @clarekrmiller

Jan26

After “I said, Further Exploration reVEALS,” (no xpost), [personal profile] clare_dragonfly‘s reward for feedback here.

Vas World has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ

“Answers would be nice,” Paz muttered petulantly. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“How did you ever end up in the Corps?” Malia slipped through the door and swept the beam of her flashlight over the room – not a library, as she’d hoped, but some sort of office, in more disarray than anything they’d found yet.

“Really good test scores. And I can hit a bullseye at 500 yards, which squeaked me by the psych.”

“…Our psych eval needs evaluating.” She picked the smallest desk and sat down, carefully, in the chair.

“Well, what about you, Miss Loves-Everything?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/245072.html. You can comment here or there.

Princesses, Knights, and the Huntsman, a story of the Aunt Family for the (December) Giraffe Call

Jan25

From the poll for continuation story from December’s Giraffe Call; a bonus because the main story ran short.

A continuation of “Tell me a Story,” (LJ)

The Aunt Family has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ.

Long after her friend and her brothers had run off to play another game, Lily slunk back into the room. Rosaria, who had been expecting something of the sort, crocheted patiently on her seventh afghan this year. They had, after all, a very large family; this one was going to Florida. Even Florida, she’d been told, eventually had cold days, and any grand-niece or nephew could use a little piece of handcrafted love.

Speaking of needing love… “What is it, Lily?” she asked gently.

“I liked the story you made for Cady,” she started hesitantly. Lily was not normally a shy child, which made Rosaria a little worried.

“I’ve made stories for you as well, honey. It was her turn,” she said, hoping that was all it was.

“I know! I’m patient and wait my turn.” She had two brothers; it was a skill she’d probably gotten very good at. “And I know Cady’s demon. I mean, I’ve seen it. Andmaybetheprincesstoo,” she added, all in a rush. “Does every knight get a princess?”

Interesting. And not a conversation Rosaria had thought she’d be having with Lily, and certainly not that young.

“Well,” she started slowly, teasing out a strand of Lily’s hair and beginning to braid it, “not all knights get princesses, no. Not all knights want princesses, of course. Some want princes, or dairy maids, or a really good book.”

“But some knights want princesses? Jennifer said girls didn’t have to be princesses anymore…”

Even more interesting. “But some knights – and some princess, and other princesses, and even huntsman want princesses. And some princesses want them.”

“Okay.” Lily smiled, tracing the swirling pattern of the afghan. “Tell Jordan I said hi?” She jumped down from Rosaria’s lap and darted out, leaving her grandmother to smile in a bit of bemusement.

That one… is going to be a handful. And a wonder

Next: The Princess and the Hunstsman (LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/243750.html. You can comment here or there.

Strange Neighbors

Jan25

For anke‘s prompt(s)

After the Fairy Road from the last Giraffe Call.

The park in the middle of the city had always been creepy, but, in its heyday, it had also been beautiful. Children had, once, played there, and the overgrowth that filled up its four quadrants had once been tamed, with tiny footpaths wriggling through like snakes. Now, only the desperate or rushed used the main roads, and only the fairies could find the foot-paths.

The apartment building on Milton, overlooking the park, had also seen better days. In its heyday, it had been a fine luxury building, and the suite size and facade still showed that. The rooms were large, the building was passably well-upkept, but the rich neighborhoods had moved North, leaving the Stanton Arms behind.

The tragedy of the park hadn’t helped, of course; no-one with children wanted to be near there. Anyone with sensitivity either was drawn there or repulsed, like magnets, depending on pole. And normal people, inasmuch as there were such things as normal people, for the most part had either heard the rumors, seen the crime rates, or just “knew” it wasn’t a good place; the reputation of the park clung to the building like coal dust from a smokestack.

That left the Arms to college students who couldn’t afford better, out-of-towners who didn’t know any better, fae who knew things about the park even the most sensitive human didn’t, the sensitive who could stand the ghosts, and Errol’s cousin Carolina, who ran an Etsy shop specializing in “genuine” fake magical artifacts with real punch.

That meant, of course, than anyone who had any sort of shady magical deal they wished to engage in ended up at the Arms and the park, seeking someone with just the right twist for their corkscrew. Which was, as Errol and his cousin well knew, one hell of a self-fulfilling prophecy.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/243615.html. You can comment here or there.

Tea with /HER/, further continued, a story of Tir na Cali for the Giraffe Call

Jan24

For @daHob’s prompt, in continuation of Sunday’s installement: Tea with HER (continuation) (LJ) and Saturday’s Tea with HER (beginning) (LJ)

Tir na Cali has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ

“I know this, Treanna, because, believe it or not, I was nineteen once, myself. And when this happens… come to me again, and we will talk.” She sipped her tea, her eyes smirking at me. “I’ll enjoy it.”

I sold him, of course.

I didn’t want to. I was entirely in love with him, a little more gone than was reasonable. And selling him without him ever getting him to love me was admitting defeat.

But I’d started to grow up, even as my mother got more and more ill. And looking at him, I couldn’t help but remember every childish tantrum, every teenaged secret I’d whispered in my ear. He’d known me at my worst. No wonder he’d never love me.

When you reach a certain point, you put away the pink diary and the teddy bears and the dolls. When you reach that point again, it’s time to move on from your first companion.

I bid him a quiet, respectful, tearful goodbye, and sold him to the best broker in town, demanding – and getting – promises about his well-being and the type of place to which they’d sell him. He’d do well. He was so very well…

There (exactly) ends 750 words… *evil laughter*
(note: I’m not THAT evil. I’ve already written another 150)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/242800.html. You can comment here or there.

Strand-Workers & Strand-Working Organizations, an excerpted article

Jan24

This is the new-donoerperk from the December Giraffe Call, a setting piece on Stranded World

Strand-Workers and Strand-Working Organizations

by Ernesta Roundtree

It has been said – indeed, it was the way I was taught, and my late husband as well – that Strand-weaving is by nature a solitary occupation, and that those who can see and twist the Strands of life and existence do so on their own.

And, of course, there are many walks of life for which this is true, and many who can see or move Strands who spend their entire life doing so alone: if they are lucky, they are taught, and if they are wise, they teach another, but the time in between is spent alone, working small, single-person effects, having small and often selfish results.

But there is nothing inherently isolationist about the craft itself, and, while the organizations that exist today are nothing compared to the great Leagues and lodges, those that exist do great good (or, in some sad cases, great evil) within their spheres.

I will say nothing about the Order of the Linked Circles except that they exist, that that is not the name that they call themselves, and that they are very secretive. One of my children has met one person who claims to be of this Order, but I myself never have.

The Team I belonged to in my youth, with my husband, was a smaller, and, I believe, more informal, certainly less secretive group, closer to a motorcycle gang that happened to twist Strands than anything formal. We had, however, and still do have, an alliance with the Collegium Filorum, which is a small but world-wide organization.

The Collegium has three major missions:
1) To connect new Strand-weavers with teachers, so that they can not only learn best practices but share innovations.
2) To provide a network of weavers, so that, when an emergency occurs, a single weaver will know where to turn for help
and, in some people’s eyes most important,
3) To look for those who would cut the Strands, and stop them.

As far as I am aware, the Collegium is the only world-spanning organization of Strand-weavers still in existence, although small groups still exist, like our Team, around the world.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/242595.html. You can comment here or there.