Tag Archive | character: cynara

The Princess and the Elf now on AO3

Cal and I are writing a fanfic of a story that…. Cal and I wrote.

Summary:

Year Six: How things might’ve gone, if things hadn’t gone the worst way possible.

A much lighter AU-treatment of a couple characters from Addergoole: A Ghost Story, where Cynara’s dad successfully hid and Leofric got dumped. (Because who says you can’t write fanfic of your own stories? )

You can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15423672/chapters/35798619.  Cal will be posting a “chapter” a day until we run out.

 

 

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Family Ties – a Drabble of Cynara

See Also Plans
Let’s see, Math.
Cya starts year 6, 2000 AD
Yoshi starts Year 24, 2018 AD
The White Stag grandson starts… year 41? We’ll say 41, 2035
The next one is year 60, great-grandson, 2056
So call this 2064.

There were two people at Iasthai’s front door: a woman with a red streak through chocolate-brown hair and a very skinny man with hair so blonde it was nearly white. They weren’t part of the neighborhood, that much Iasthai knew; it was a small enough, isolated enough village that she knew all her neighbors — and they were clean and well-dressed like Addergoole people, but they weren’t anyone Iasthai recognized from there either.

The woman looked familiar, but Iasthai couldn’t quite place where or why.

“Iasthai?” She asked like it was a formality.

“That’s me,” she agreed carefully.

“I’m Cya Dayton, called Doomsday, and this is Charno, called Speedforce.”

“Ah? I see?” Oh… Oh! She took a step backwards.

“I swear to you, I come here meaning no harm to you or yours.”

Iasthai relaxed slowly. “How can I help you?”

“I’m hoping we can help each other.” She didn’t ask to come in; Iasthai appreciated it.

“How’s that?” she asked, carefully. One didn’t want to offend Red Doomsday.

“I like to keep track of my kin, to help them out. Unfortunately for that urge, my line tends towards boys.”

Iasthai glanced unwillingly to the back of her cottage, where her sons were playing. “…And?”

“And I’m willing to offer you and your household a home in Cloverleaf, five years’ living expenses, and pre-Addergoole education for all of your children if you will agree to allow me visitation with my grand— hrrm… great-great-grandson,” she murmured that part even quieter than the rest of her speech.

“You, not his father?”

“His deals are his own.”

“He — he said you suggested me.” She found her shoulders tightening.

“Ah, well, it’s harder and harder to find those that aren’t related to us or to Boom as a whole, the more generations go to Addergoole.”

“So you could find him for me?”

The woman smiled slowly. “As long as you agreed that you meant him no permanent harm and would Keep him no more than, say… four years.”

“You’d agree to that?” What kind of grandmother was she?

“My grands make their own mistakes. Besides, it might allow him to know his sons, and that would do him good.”

“Sons?” Iasthai asked, despite herself.

The woman’s smile grew to something sharp and amused. “I already negotiated with his first-year Keeper.”

Iasthai looked back at her tiny cottage. She took a breath. It wasn’t a great place, but they’d accepted her with no questions and liked her medical ability. “I’ll do it. WIth those caveats. Come back in… a week, if you can, and we’ll be ready to go.”

“I’ll see you in a week. Thank you, Iasthai.”

A house, a stipend, and her first-year Keeper tracked down for her. And Red Doomsday acted like Iasthai was doing her a favor. “You’re quite welcome, sa’Doomsday.”

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We don’t deal with outsiders very well…

This follows You’ll never know the murderer sitting next to you…. in theme and character, but is several years later, very soon after the apocalypse.

This story involves threats of murder, rape, and other violence against women, children, and men. It involves actual murder and violence, mind control, and stone-cold bluffing.

Three people greeted Devin’s gang at the gate: a preteen boy, a twenty-something young man, and a woman not much older than the man.

The woman was carrying a shotgun slung lazily on its strap over her shoulder, a sawed-off baseball bat resting on the other shoulder, and a hunting knife on the other hip. The man was pacing slowly back and forth, clearly itching for a fight.

Devin had twelve fighters, all of them armed to the teeth. There was nothing this rag-tag group could do, and the fence wouldn’t hold for all that long.

The woman raised her eyebrows at him. “Well?”

“Give us your food and blankets and you’ll live.”

“If we give you our food and blankets, we’ll die,” she pointed out calmly. Way too calmly. By this point, she should have been negotiating.

“Not my problem. You fight us, you’ll die.”

That eyebrow quirked. “All of us?”

Oh, she was negotiating. Devin was unimpressed. “You’ve got kids. You cooperate, I’ll leave you enough food for the kids to survive. Otherwise, I’m killing all of you, now.” He could always come back and get the rest of the food when the parents had weakened themselves or starved themselves.

She turned to the man. “Go get the crew. Don’t run.” She turned to the boy. “Get your brother, drill 2. If you find his sister and her kin, tell them the same, but you get your brother and keep him safe.”

The two looked like they wanted to argue. Neither of them did.

The woman turned back to Devin and waited until they were both out of sight. “You threatened my family,” she said, calm and cold. “You’re going to die. If everyone else leaves right now, they might survive.”

She was a single woman, she was barely armed; she was bluffing.

Three of Devin’s crew ran off anyway. He could kill them later.

“You.” She pointed at one of the ones who’d remained; Tabby, a hard-ass fighter, former biker, three-time felon. She said something in some foreign jabber. “You go, and you tell anyone who might be interested, you do not mess with Boom. You do not mess with the Ranch.

She pointed to one more person, Jimmy, a homicidal little shit even at fifteen. She repeated her jabber. “You, go the opposite direction as her, and do the same.”

They weren’t going to leave. They were Devin’s most loyal fighters. Tabby might be a girl, but she was deadly. Jimmy might be a kid, but he was insane.

“Are you done? Because you know we’ll find the kids, wherever they hid. And you know what my men will do with a pretty girl like you. You might ever survive. Put a leash on you and keep you around the camp, might even give you another baby.”

He leered at her, and she smiled. “You know, I was hoping you’d say that. Smile, asshole, you’re on Candid microphone.”

“…What?” He didn’t even notice when Jimmy and Tabby slunk away in opposite directions.

His words repeated back to him from some hidden loudspeaker. ”Put a leash on you and keep you around the camp. Might even give you another baby.

Devin shook his head. “What, you think the police are gonna care? The police are gone, bitch. The law is gone, ain’t no law left but us.”

“You’re mistaken,” she smiled. “The law that’s left is us. Boom. Run, bitches.” Her shotgun swung up. A snarl sounded somewhere to Devin’s left. At the last minute, he realized she’d been stalling.

“You fucking bitch, you were buying time!” He aimed his pistol at her head.

He never got a chance to pull the trigger; he never even saw the horns that gored him.

The bodies of his crew fell, gored, beheaded, shot, turning purple and green and chartreuse. Six people fell while Devin bled out, their glassy eyes staring at him. Nobody had time for accusation. They hardly had time to see the whirlwind that attacked them.

As the ground opened up and swallowed him, Devin saw the woman pick up one more of his fighters — Pete, Pete, who’d been loyal even though he hated violence against women. “You’ll live,” she declared, against all sense. “Go. Tell them. You do not fucking mess with Boom.

The dirt covered Devin, and he died.

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You’ll never know the murderer sitting next to you….

Speculative ficlet of Boom, pre-apocalypse. Not even the ficlet I meant to write.

“Hey, you. Are you still alive?”

Feccrick came to conciousness slowly. There was a redheaded woman leaning over him, seemingly unbothered by the raw gaping sword wound across his chest.

“Alive?” Better to feign fogginess. “Yeah, what…?”

“What’s your name?”

“Fred. Fred Kirk.”

“Good, good.” She stood up, talking into her shoulder radio. He couldn’t make out any of the words, but he thought he heard his name.

Shoulder radio… a cop. Jeans and a jacket – detective? Feccrick tried to shake himself awake while trying to look as vague and uncertain as possible.

“All right, Fred. What happened here?”

“Some guy. Some…” Mara type, hero complex, swinging his sword around… “Freak with a sword. Came in and started plowing through everyone.”

“Why did he leave you alive?”

Alive? The rest were… Feccrick looked around: blood, and body parts, and a broken machete.

“Shit. shit, shit, they’re all dead?” Panic seemed like a good idea. He didn’t even have to fake it. “All of them?”

“Why’d he let you live?” she repeated.

“Shit, I don’t know, I…” Some words came back. You’re not to blame. You’re not like them. The man had sounded sincere. “…I think he maybe thought I was a good guy. Which I am, I mean…” The guy had clearly been a nutjob.

“Thank you.” This time, he heard the Words. They started with Abatu Intinn…

He didn’t have time to panic before he was gone.

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The Pact Slips, Part Two

Acquiring Students
When my tablet runs out of battery…
The Crew Continues
Crew, Continued
The Day
A Pact
The Pact Slips, Part I

Doomsday Academy, a couple weeks after “The Pact Slips, Part I”

Content: implied sexual suggestion

“I… I want to know. And I don’t trust anyone else.”

For Kerr, that was a speech. Still, Aron had to ask. “Anyone?”

“Any other guys,” Kerr grumbled. “And you…”

His shirt was already off. His roommates were already gone for the weekend, heading off on some trip Kerr had begged off of. Aron swallowed.

Kerr shifted backwards. “Unless you don’t like guys…?”

“No, no…” Aron leaned in for the most gentle kiss he could manage. “I like you just fine.”

~

“I want to know,” Astarte demanded. “I want to know what’s so hot about you.”

“So hot?” Sunny would have been worried, she thought, if it had been anyone but Astarte. “What do you…?”

“Why Kerr would have broken the pact. Why you? Why…?”

“I could ask Aron the same thing, couldn’t I?” Sunny raised her eyebrows. Not that she’d have to ask Aron… Astarte was gorgeous in an entirely different way than Kerr was. “Or you could just try and find out.”

“Try?” The anger that had rushed Astarte in like a storm faded away, and she sat down, looking stunned. “You mean…”

“Well,” Sunny smirked, “It’s not like we’re really holding to the pact anymore…”

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The Pact Slips, Part One.

Acquiring Students
When my tablet runs out of battery…
The Crew Continues
Crew, Continued
The Day
A Pact

Doomsday Academy, a couple months after “the Pact,” above

Content: implied sexual suggestion

“Kerr is all wrapped up with that girlfriend, and, well, it’s not really sex if we…” Astarte’s gestures left no doubt what she had in mind, and Aron’s body left no room for argument about its opinions on the matter.

“But we…”

“It’s not really sex. It’s fine.”

~

“I really loved her, you know.” Kerr stared at his empty mug; Sunny had taken away the bottle he’d been using to refill it. “I really…”

“I know, honey.” Sunny petted his hair and tried to soothe her crewmate. “It sucks. I know.” It’d only been two weeks before that her short-lived first relationship had seemed to fade away into the ether.

“You get me. Why do you get me?”

Sunny swallowed. The look in Kerr’s eyes, she ‘got’ that all right. She knew where this was going. “Because I listen, love,” she murmured, throaty and maybe a bit inviting. “That’s all. I listen.”

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A Pact, a continuation ficlet of Doomsday Academy

Acquiring Students
When my tablet runs out of battery…
The Crew Continues
Crew, Continued
The Day

Doomsday Academy, a few years under a decade before Cya Keeps Leo.

“It’s not that it’s gross…” Aron spoke carefully, his eyes darting between his three crewmates. “It’s just that it seems wrong when they’re just…” His hands lifted as if ready to make a gesture, then flopped to the bed, and his cheeks colored.

Today they were in Sunny’s cy’Red dorm, stacked on her bed, because one of Aron’s cy’ra were… engaged… with a cy’Sweetflower. Loudly.

“And I mean, sure, they’re having fun, but then there’s going to be that loud mess like there was with the last one, with Silva, and with Kit before that. At this rate, he’s not going to be able to talk to anyone in the school by the time he graduates.”

“We’re not going to do that. Right?” Sunny looked between the three of them, her crew. “We’re best friends. We’re crew. We’re not going to get all… all sexy and start fighting with each other, right? Right?”

“No sex,” Astarte agreed with a sharp nod.

“Sex is for outside the crew,” Kerr agreed, very quietly.

“It’s a deal.” They put their hands together and shook, all for one, one for all.

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The Day, a continuation, a ficlet of Doomsday Academy

Acquiring Students
When my tablet runs out of battery…
The Crew Continues
Crew, Continued

Doomsday Academy, a few years under a decade before Cya Keeps Leo.

“We’re a day, you know.” They were on Aron’s bed again, cy’Lightning having proven the best at dealing with the nascent crew. Sunny was laying over the foot of the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Sunshine and darnkess,” she gestured at Kerr. “Stars,” she flopped a hand at Astarte, “and if we bend your name we get Aroon, and that’s a dawn.”

Aron raised his eyebrows. “That’s a day,” he agreed slowly. “Is that what we are?”

Sunny propped herself up to look at Astarte. The smaller girl looked back, twitched an eyebrow. Sunny shrugged one shoulder.

“Yeah,” Astarte answered. “I guess we are.”

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Crew, a continuation, a ficlet of Doomsday Academy

Acquiring Students
When my tablet runs out of battery…
The Crew Continues

Doomsday Academy, a little over a decade before Cya Keeps Leo.

“So what do we do about cy’rees?” The four of them were flopped in the fourth-year students’ dorm all on Aron’s bed. He, in turn, was studying the long tail Kerr had recently grown.

“Do?” Astarte peeked up at him through a fringe of hair. “We pick them, right?”

“But we’re not all going to pick the same one, are we? I mean, we could… ’cause if we don’t, they’re going to split us up.” One hand went protectively over Astarte and the other over Kerr, leaving Sunny to snuggle into his arm on her own.

“Well…” Sunny mused… “it’s a small school. It’s not like they can actually separate us.”

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The Crew Continues, a ficlet of Doomsday Academy

After/part of When my tablet runs out of battery…, which is after Acquiring Students

Doomsday Academy, a little over a decade before Cya Keeps Leo.

Kerr was not talkative. He communicated when Miss Ascha pushed him in class. He told the cook what he wanted, at lunch. With Aron and Sunny, he preferred gestures and a minimum of words.

When he brought Astarte over to Aron and Sunny, the day she arrived – the first day of their second year of school and her first year – he did so without words. He took her hand and gave a tug; she followed. He tugged again, and she walked with him, her white-pale hand in his dark one, until he tugged her one more time to pull her in front of him, presenting her very clearly to Sunny and Aron.

Aron understood. “Hi,” he said, if for no other reason than to prove that one of them actually talked. “We’re a crew, or we will be when we’re old enough. Want to join?”

She was as small as they had been a year ago, her eyes wide. But she smiled. “You’re funny,” she told Kerr. “I like that.” She tilted her head at Aron, looked down at her hand, still firmly held in Kerr’s, and giggled. “I think I already did.”

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