Tag Archive | giraffecall

Falling

Jan17

For [personal profile] kelkyag‘s prompt

I remember falling.

They’ll tell you I can’t have possibly remembered anything. They’ll tell you that I was too young.

They’ll tell you there wasn’t any falling involved. It was a one-story house, and the windows were low to the ground.

But then again, how did a 2-year-old survive when nobody else did?

I’ve never wondered.

They’ll tell you that was because I was too young to have formed attachments. They’ll tell you that’s because I don’t really remember my family.

They’re going to tell you a lot of shit about me. And you’re going to listen, aren’t you? Because you’re the grown-ups. And I’m a kid.

But I remember falling. I remember the first fall. The second fall. I remember every. Single. Time.

They put me on a train at the end of the autumn. Comes this time every year. The families can handle me in the spring, in the summer. But when the leaves start to change, they get nervous.

I can’t say I blame them. All they have to go on is stories, after all. Whispers. The things that they’re told, the lies that they’re fed to comfort them. But even the slimiest grown-up knows, somewhere, when they’re being lied to.

So they put me on a train. City to country. Country to burbs. Burbs to… well, where am I going this time?

And what have they told you about the fires?

I remember falling.

But I remember flying, too. The flying always comes before the falling. And the fire comes in between.

And they’ll tell you I don’t remember anything at all.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/454475.html. You can comment here or there.

Lab Rat, a story of Tir na Cali for the Giraffe Call (@lilfluff)

Jan17

For [personal profile] lilfluff‘s prompt.

Tir na Cali has a landing page here.

“Engage in some scientific experimentation,” the Agency guy had said. “Earn your freedom,” they’d said. “Just two years in our scientific facility, and you can go free,” they’d promised.

They’s strapped Robert and Eric to tables, at which point they’d both started complaining.

“This isn’t what we meant by ‘experimentation.'”

“Weren’t we supposed to be lab assistants?”

“Lab assistants! We’re supposed to be helping you guys!”

The skinny ginger guy had just tightened the straps. “You are helping. Now sleep.”

The drugs had slid into their veins, pushing away the last of the panic and replacing it with sleep.

Robert woke twitching, jittering. He wasn’t tied to a table anymore. He was back in his room, back in the little cell he shared with Eric and two other lab assistants.

Lab assistants, ha. Assist by being a lab rat. What kind of freedom was that, if there wasn’t anything left of him after two years? Cancer? Was that what this was about? AIDS? Something worse?

They were in California, after all. There had to be something worse. Anybody as evil as the Californians had to have come up with some nastier disease.

He looked at his hands. They seemed to be oka… wait. Wait. Had he had that many knuckles before? Had he had white hair, no, not hair, white fur on the back of his hands before?

His ears twitched. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t right at all. And something was moving behind him. He darted, twisted, and…

“Hey!” He pounded on the door to their cell. “Hey, let me out. You got the wrong guy! I wasn’t supposed to be a lab rat! I wasn’t supposed to get a tail!!“

“You think you’ve got problems?”

Eric’s voice was wrong. Too high. Nerves? Robert turned around, slowly. He hadn’t seen Eric when he came to. He hadn’t seen…

Erica? “You think you’ve got problems?” His oldest buddy repeated him – her – self. “They just turned you into a rat. They turned me into a girl.“

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/454306.html. You can comment here or there.

Teaching for the Future, a story for the Giraffe Call

Jan17

To EllenMillion‘s prompt.

The apocalypse was the last thing I was expecting when I went back to school.

Let’s be honest, I really wasn’t expecting much of anything except an escape from reality.

I liked being a student. I was good at it, I enjoyed it, and, unlike the work world, it enjoyed me back. So, when I got sick of grunt jobs, miserably low-paying crap, and all the bullshit that went along with the Real World, I went back to college. No better way to get out of planning for the future, right?

You’d think that being a Perpetual Student would have ill-prepared me for the apocalypse, but, as it turned out, you’d be wrong. I like learning, too, you see. And classes only fill so much of your time. And college campuses are full of people who like to teach you things.

All of which combined to turn me into sort of a post-apocalyptic Jane of All Trades.

Step One: Fail at the Real World. Check.

Step Two: Drop back into college with a vengeance. Check.

Step Three: End of the world. Check.

The Botany department has a cabin out past the edge of the town where they do field studies. By the time the armies overran the town, I was already out there, with two Botany students and a pre-med guy who tagged along.

We did some shopping first, of course, and then some more shopping, afterwards. It’s interesting the things people will leave behind when they’re panic-shopping. It’s interesting how much use you can get out of those things.

Now the four of us are running a school. It amuses me, a little, that I’ve gone from real-world dropout to teacher, but those that remain need a lot of teaching. And they have a lot to teach, too, or they wouldn’t have made it through the first three passes.

Everyone takes turns, teacher and student. And everyone – everyone – takes notes.

We’re planning for the future, here, after all.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/454050.html. You can comment here or there.

Strange Favors

Jan16

For [personal profile] imaginaryfiend‘s commissioned continuation of A Couple Helping Hands and Littermate

That yelp. That sound. It wasn’t human, wasn’t barely alive-sounding, but she knew it. She’d know her brother anywhere. Cúmhaí peeled off the last hand holding her, and, when it wouldn’t move, started breaking fingers, fast and nasty, until the hand vanished.

“Nobody touches my brother. Nobody. Touches. My. Brother.” She could feel everyone in the room and, what was more, she could feel how much of the creature fighting her was illusion and misdirection. She dove straight for his center of mass, right there, and below there was where the Beagle had already tenderized the bastard…

She was rewarded with a long screaming yowl. “No-one hurts my brother, damn you.” She snarled it at the whole room, at the bastard growling at her and pretending she hadn’t just added injury to injury, and at the three others she could feel, even if she couldn’t see. “And I’ll kill every goddamned one of you if I have to, to prove it.”

“Never let it be said there is not some honor among the wolves, miss Pup.” The voice was nearly part of the wall, and when she tried to look in that direction, it hurt her head. “Take your brother. Nobody will stop you, as long as you go directly to Dr. Caitrin’s.”

Begley. She felt for him with her power, and found him hidden in a pool of shadow, barely breathing, not moving at all. “Beagle.” People with back injuries shouldn’t be moved. Leaving him here was not an option.

“Gods who’ve come and gone blast it all, Beagle, why are you not moving?” She was going to have to pick him up. She was going to have to carry him. “Fuck it all, Begley John, wake up.”

But he wasn’t waking up, so she picked him up, as carefully as she could. “Invisible voice?”

“I am watching your passage, Miss Pup.”

When the voice spoke, she could feel where he was. She carefully didn’t look that way.

“Where’s Dr. Caitrin’s, from here?”

The voice chuckled. Another time, that might have irritated Cúmhaí. Right now, she would take it. She could feel the others, and she had a hunch the invisible voice was holding them off. “Walk straight forward until you reach a fork. Turn left there, and the continue until the stairs. Upstairs should be clearer and more obvious.”

She’d already started walking. Manners, a voice in her head whispered. Her brother? Maybe. Once upon a time, he’d been her big brother. “Thank you, invisible voice.”

“When your brother has been tended to, Miss Pup, then you and I may have a talk. But not before.”

“You little shit. All of you little shits. I’m going to…”

“She won, Sir Thing. Let her go.”

“She didn’t win, Begley-shit cheated.”

“Defending your crew is never cheating, or your Marthin would never win anything. Let. Her Go.”

In the echoes of that conversation, Cúmhaí followed Invisible’s directions. Forward, and keep going until she got to a fork. She showed teeth every time she felt someone get near, and growled if they came within touching distance. Nobody tried to stop her. Nobody got in her way.

She wasn’t sure if that was her, truly, or the shadow she could feel following them. There were times when she felt someone get yanked away, times when she heard a hiss of “do not touch them.”

She might have to pay the piper when they were done, but she’d worry about that then. Right now, she had a Beagle to take care of.

“Damnit, Midget.”

~

“Damnit, Midget.” It was like being home again. Begley opened his eyes to his sister’s frowning face. They were moving, he realized, no, she was moving and he was being carried in her arms.

“Nice to see you, too.” His voice was thinner than he meant it to be. “Where are we?”

“About twenty feet from the doctor’s office. You took your sweet time waking up.”

“Sorry, I had a case of /being thrown into a wall. How did you get away?”

“She broke every finger of Mr. Thing’s hand, and then broke some more important parts.”

He knew that voice, even if he couldn’t see it. He reached for his knife, hoping it wasn’t too late.”

“Easy.” Cúmhaí squeezed him against her chest. Begley tried not to think about that too closely. She was his sister. This might be Addergoole, but…

Bigger problems right now. “Coo, this isn’t the counter, this is the fire.”

“It looks like the doctor’s office to me. Look.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “He might take it out of me later but he’s the only reason we got past the creeps in the halls, so I’m not going to look his gift horse in its invisible mouth right now, okay?”

Later. “Shit. Coo, you didn’t agree to anything, did you?”

“I extracted no promises for my service, because I offered it unasked-for. I do have some honor, young Beagle.”

“I’m not that much younger than you, you…”

“Keep the mystery, if you would. Your sister will come looking for me soon enough. I’d appreciate there being a bit of a challenge in the looking.”

“She’s my sister. I’m not going to let you hurt her.”

His sister, looking very amused, damn her, was opening the door to the doctor’s office with her foot. “Beagle..”

“Coo, don’t call me that. Look, this is important.”

“It is.” Their invisible stalker had followed them into the doctor’s office. “Begley cy’Akinobu, I promise you these two things. First, if you respect my wish, and allow your sister to discover who I am on her own, then I will consider any debt between us for my part in her escape today to be settled.”

“You bastard, you said it was free.”

“Well, it is. But I’d appreciate if it you let me play out this little game.”

Begley sighed. “All right. I won’t tell her. But…”

“And the second half of my promise. I will not extract, nor seek to extract, through torture nor through any Working or use of magic at all, any promises or other binding words, from your sister Cúmhaí during the rest of this calendar year.”

“…” That was, Begley thought, the best he was going to get. “Why?”

“Gift horses and invisible mouths,” the voice scolded. “Suffice it to say she impressed me.”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1159682.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/453665.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Transfer of Power

Jan16

For [personal profile] imaginaryfiend‘s prompt.

This is Shahin & Emrys’ daughter, in her second year of Addergoole, and Jeremiah and Rowan’s son, in his first year.

“All right.”

This had seemed like a clever idea when she’d implemented it. Her parents had done it, after all. One week each, and then mutually together.

She’d needed to one-up her mother, of course. So she’d said “Four months. Be mine for four months and then I’ll be yours for four months.”

Mangrove had agreed. Nobody had been surprised; Morganna wasn’t exactly an un-tempting package, and it was a better deal than anyone else was going to offer him.

But that had been four months ago. Four months ago, today had seemed a very long time off.

Today was here. She unlocked the collar from around his neck and set it on the dresser. “Mangrove cy’Valerian, I release you. You are your own man now, and no longer Mine. Walk your own route.”

That part was harder than she’d thought it would be. She liked having him as hers. He was a good Kept – he fought a bit, yelled a bit, and was just enough trouble to keep things interesting. He reminded her of her father and her brothers, without the uncomfortable difficulty of being a relation.

“A kiss?”

She offered it, rather than demanding it, finding herself worried that he’d say no. When he just smiled at her, her worry only grew.

“Mannie…” She hated the note of pleading that came into her voice. Thank all the gods that didn’t care, it looked like he did, too.

“Oh, come on, Morgue, I was only playing.” He tilted his head up. “A kiss.”

The kiss was long, and a little clingy on both their parts. “You taste different.” Mangrove licked his lips.

“Let’s see how I taste in a minute.” She slipped off her dress and dropped to her knees. “Mangrove cy’Valerian, for the next four months, I am Yours. I come to you bare and naked; what I have will come from your hands, and everything I am belongs to you.”

His hands wrapped loosely around her throat. “Morganna cy’Drake, you belong to me. For the next four months, you are Mine. My Name will shelter you and my hand will protect you. Everything you are is mine, and everything you need, I will give you.”

It felt like falling. She leaned back, closing her eyes, and let his hands cradle her. “I’m yours.”

“Yes.” His voice was warm and thick. “Yes, you are.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/453136.html. You can comment here or there.

Into the Doorway, a beginning for Facets of Dusk

Jan16

To Rix_Scaedu‘s prompt.

Facets of Dusk has a landing page here

This is the beginning of their first mission, so comes before almost everything.

They had their assignment.

They had several assignments. There was the primary mission and two spoken secondary missions. There were their individual assignments, overt and covert. And there were a couple that did not come from their nominal leaders.

They had their gear.

Alexa had her Diplomat Clothes, wrinkle-resistant, fast-drying, and professional-looking in almost any environment.

Cole had his weapons. All of them. He had basic survival gear and a full uniform with no insignia anywhere. And he had weapons.

Josie had her backpacking gear and an apothacary’s worth of herbal… things. Nobody knew what they were for, but they were light.

Peter had his instruments, and then some more instruments, and a large pad of paper. Nobody knew what they were all for, and some of them were heavy, but Peter carried them all.

Xenia had her weapons, her climbing gear, her survival gear, and her weapons. She weighed every single item, and discarded anything that would weigh her down.

Aerich, as far as they could tell, planned on going forth with an expensive suit, a stunning chin, and monumental arrogance. Very few of these weighed anything, at least.

They had their team.

Xenia shared a look with Cole. Both of them looked at Peter; Xenia’s lip curled. Cole glanced at Aerich, his hand resting on his gun. Aerich’s lip curled at Josie. Josie’s nose wrinkled at Xenia. Xenia looked sidelong at Alexa. And Alexa was giving Peter the stinkeye.

They had their door.

Alexa. It all came down to Aleandra Bianchi. Cole stepped up to one side of her, Xenia to the other. This ought to be a military operation. It ought to be an exploratory mission. Instead, it all hinged on a former diplomat with a barely-tested ability to open doors into other worlds.

Peter ran his instruments over the doorway – deep in the archives of the university, well-camouflaged by opening, mundanely, to a supply room full of microfiche. Three of his instruments screamed at him every time they got near. It was definitely The Door.

They had their orders. Alexa opened the Door. Six mavericks stepped into the doorway.

A team would step out.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/452614.html. You can comment here or there.

Mini Giraffe Call 2: Transitons

Jan16

Today’s Giraffe Call Theme is Transitions

The Call for Prompts is now CLOSED!

Leave one or many prompts, and I will write (over the next week) at least one microfic (150-500 words) to each prompter (prompts may be combined)

Prompts can be related to one of my extant settings (See my landing page-landing page) or they can be for something completely different.

Prompting is free! But Donations are always welcome.

For each $5 you donate, I will write an additional 500 words to the prompt(s) of your choice.

If I get two new prompters or one new donator, I will write a setting piece (setting chosen by poll) explaining something about the prompts.

Because this is a mini-Call, there will be mini-perks!

* For every $15 donated, one prompter chosen at random will get an extra fic written –
* For every $30 donated, one random prompter will get a 500-word continuation.
* Every-$60 level open for suggestions!!

Incentives will carry over the three mini-calls in January.


Words
500 $5.00 USD
750 $7.50 USD
1000 $10.00 USD
1250 $12.50 USD
1500 $15.00 USD
1750 $17.50 USD
2000 $20.00 USD

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/452571.html. You can comment here or there.

Mini Giraffe Calls Day One

Jan15

This Morning’s Call was The Weather, and in a little over an hour, I received four prompts:

Mini Call One: The Weather
The Stars (LJ) (Facets, Alexa/Xenia)
Don’t Cry Baby (LJ) (Addergoole Yr 13)

The Planet Called “Oh, Fuck, We’re Screwed” (LJ)
Holy Fuck, It’s Snowing (LJ) (Vas World, just after the one above)

There are two mini calls still to go:

Wednesday, 1/16/13, from 12:30 – 1:20 p.m. EST, with a theme of transitions

and

Thursday, 1/17/13, from 9:15 – 10:15 p.m. EST, with a theme of seven deadly sins.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/451712.html. You can comment here or there.

The Stars, a story of Facets of Dusk for the Giraffe Call

Jan15

For cluudle‘s prompt.

This comes after Gender Play, here.

Facets of Dusk has a landing page here

“I can’t see the stars.” Alexa clutched Xenia’s hand. Alex. Today, she was he was Alex, and she-he-Alex was Xenia’s companion.

And her companion had the jitters. Xenia glanced up into the night sky. This world was dark at night, the only luminescence allowed thin strips along the sidewalks. Blackout curtains covered every window.

And tonight, there were no stars out at all. “That can’t be good.” She sniffed the air. The air was crisp, traffic being limited in daytime and, of course, totally missing at night. Somewhere, someone was burning a roast. A hot dog vendor – or this world’s equivalent – must be right around the corner.

And over it all, the smell of ozone and the suggestion of something very, very larger. “Lex, we need to get inside. Now.”

“We’re still three blocks from the party.”

“We should be close to the Tyen Tunnel our contact told us about.”

“But we were going to get some fresh air.”

Either Alex-a was playing her role too well, or she’d just gotten a little too used to being the one in the front of the charge. “Go… Goram fuck it, Alex, if you don’t get in that building right now, I am going to turn your ass a beautiful shade of purple when we get home.”

Alex-a meeped, and moved. “Xen…”

“Complain later, move now.”

Down the street, she could hear the hot dog vendor cheering. “Tell him who’s boss, sister.” She shoved Alex-a through the revolving door to the tunnel entrance as the skies opened op and the rain poured down.

“Turn my ass purple?” Alex-a muttered.

“Stay in character, and I won’t.” They watched the rain come down, washing the streets clean. More than washing; it looked like it was etching the pavement. No wonder there haven’t been many people out. “Well. That’s why your stars are missing.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/451560.html. You can comment here or there.

Don’t Cry, Baby

Jan15

To moonwolf1988‘s prompt.

Year 13, Reveal (Lunch time on the First Friday).

“Don’t cry, baby. When you cry, the sky cries with you.”

Amaya’s daddy had said that to her, growing up. He’d point out the window at the encroaching clouds, or the storm, or the shower, and say the same thing, every time.

When she tripped and skinned her knee.

“Don’t cry, baby.”

When she failed her first class

“When you cry…”

When her date to homecoming left her all lone.

“…the sky cries with you.”

When she stepped on the plane to leave everything behind.

“Don’t cry baby.”

“I know, Daddy. The plane won’t fly through turbulence.”

“And when you get upset, things get pretty turbulent.” He patted her shoulder and sent her off.

Off to… this place. This strange place with its strange people and its strange… everything. She looked around again, as if that would make it better.

She’d thought Beckett was pretty cute. He had a tail. A tail.

She wasn’t sure about Irvy, but she was certain he had scales. That was just unfair.

And Edan. He had a voice that calmed her right down, wicked cool tats, and he was in the only band Addergoole seemed to sport. But he was sporting prickly fur down his back and a personal field of ice-cold air. It was too much.

Way too much. She gulped, swallowed, and tried to find something safe for her eyes to settle on. Aleron. Aleron was cute, cute, and nice, and very taken…

…and sporting a pair of wide, green wings.

The air above the Dining Hall opened up with rain.

Amaya’s wiki page (thin as it is) is here – http://agyearnine.wikispaces.com/Amaya

Amaya Year 14 – http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/672732.html

Edited and updated – https://www.patreon.com/posts/dont-cry-baby-5213821

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/451135.html. You can comment here or there.