Tag Archive | prompter: B

A Story for B, Chapter 2

Began here.

There was a girl named Malina Serafina Anastazja Dominika Naveed Jeleń nic Cecília O Alexandre, for several reasons, including the fact that her ancestor Dominika had, it seemed, built a castle, along with, or so she was learning, the Malina Concordat, the Dominika Accord, and the Treaty of the Alexandres.

She – we will call her Malina – had been lost in the desert, and not she was not so much lost as unsure of where she was.

She had a castle in front of her; she had a mustang under her.

She had a cat next to her, & that was what she knew.

The building coming into view was not quite what she’d consider a palace. It had no tall spindling towers; no beautiful white stucco painted with all the colors people could dream of; no gold.

She could see a thick, squat tower above the horizon, flanked, of course, by cacti (her whole life was devolving into nothing but cacti). From it fluttered 2 banners, as tattered as any she had seen on border trees in this journey & more so. Continue reading

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A Story for B (or perhaps a beginning)

Written over 23 posts/toots for my friend B – beginning here

The girl, who had been named Malina Serafina Anastazja Dominika Naveed Jeleń nic Cecília O Alexandre (for several reasons beginning with but not limited to the little bubbling noises she made as an infant, several grandmothers, a grandfather, two prophecies, & three bequests with very specific qualifiers), who was called Princess or Your Highness by most people and ‘Lina only by her mother and her nurse, was lost.

She hadn’t intended to be lost. She’d intended only to wander off a little ways, since the party was so loud and the people were so… people.

Malina liked people fine, in small doses, but when it was a Royal Party, a birthday party for her sister, it just went on & on & on, and the people just went on & on & on as well. So, eventually, when enough people had shaken her hand & patted her shoulder & asked for her blessing, Malina wandered away from the crowd.

Lady Rosário threw a great party – this one was at her desert estate on the border – & was a friend of the crown – Continue reading

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Meet in the Middle

This isn’t so much a story as it is a vignette or a scene. 

It’s written to 🐝’s prompt

write about good friends??


>>So what’s in the middle?

>>Nebraska, I think.  But that’s, well, that’s ‘as the crow flies,’, and neither of us are crows.  Plus, not a lot of state parks there, hrmmm.  Got it!  How about Mark Twain National Park?

They had never seen each other in person.  An entire nation – the width of an entire continent – divided them.  But looking at maps online, chatting across the internet, they agreed. Continue reading

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Mission to Paris

For @theladyisugly’s commissioned prompt: “VanderLinden & Aelfgar’s child has some mission in Paris” from the January Giraffe Call.

Belfreja is an Addergoole Year Nine student; this is set sometime around the end of year 15 – before the apocalypse but after she has been out of school for a bit.

Addergoole has a landing page here

Belfreja studied the dossier one last time, made sure she had memorized all pertinent details, ran her fingers over the silk of the underwear, and then dropped it all in the garbage bin and muttered a quick Abatu Unutu under her breath, destroying everything in the bin.

She remembered Yuriko from their time together at school. The girl had been a Cohort behind her, and spent most of her time with different people, but eventually everyone talked to Belfreja. She’d spent four years making certain that was true, and then three more years after graduation reinforcing it.

They called her, those that called her by such Names, The Connection, and for three years, she had been making connections, drawing people in, working with people for her own purposes, and for those of the Organization. A storm was coming, they all knew, and they needed to be prepared. Belfreja prepared by meeting people, and by convincing them.

She left the airport, shedding her coat in one garbage can and, a mile later, letting the red in her hair slowly change to its natural golden. Even Regine couldn’t watch entire cities, after all, and she wanted Yuriko to recognize her. With her horns Masked, the hair would have to do it. The hair and… she unbuttoned one button and took a deep breath, shifting that part of her Mask as well, to show her other assets. Yuriko might be straight. Addergoole did, on occasion, graduate one or two. But she’d remember Belfreja for her assets. Everyone always did.

There were others that could find people better than Bel could. There were others that could hide from surveillance better than she could. But when you got down to the nit and grit of it, no-one could connect people like she could.

She called on an old friend at a cafe, chatted about the weather and the incoming storm, mentioned a friend out in the mountains of Spain who was making a “retreat” deep into the side of the mountains, well away from prying eyes. In the conversation, she dropped Yuriko’s description – her Masked description – and was rewarded with a suggestion she talk to someone at a cafe down the road.

At the cafe down the road, she ate croissants and sipped tea with a man she’d first met her first year out of Addergoole. They talked about politics, French, American, British, worldwide, and, in twists and turns around that conversation, about the politics of the Ellehemaei. They murmured suggestions for hiding-holes, and whispered even more quietly of the problems with the Council, and the problems with those who would defy the Council.

They didn’t speak of rebellion. They both enjoyed living.

In the twists of that conversation, she told him she was looking for Yuriko, and he told her he thought the girl had been working at the cafe across the street. She kissed him for old time’s sake, and moved on.

The cafe across the street had no friends of hers, so she had to make a new one. The waitress behind the counter had the right look to her, so Belfreja spent an entertaining hour chatting her up, and was sure to tip generously and ostentatiously. When the waitress was thanking her, she mentioned the pretty Asian friend from school she was looking for…

…oh, so sad, Yuriko had quit. She’d gotten a better job at a cafe across town.

Sh stopped on the way to chat up a street vendor, bought a pair of sunglasses from him and flirted for a little while, talking about the way life was these days, talking about the craziness of the world.

She leaned forward as she talked, letting him ogle the way her assets fell just a bit out of her blouse, how the white lace of her bra showed under her silk blouse. She liked to flirt, of course; she was, in some ways, always going to be her mother’s daughter.

(And, unlike her half-siblings, also one of her mother’s greatest nightmares – but that was a tale to which this was only the prelude).

And people, many people, liked to flirt back with her. The sunglass-vendor told her three personal secrets and seventeen pieces of gossip by the time she had to make up an appointment to move on, and had given her the name of an awesome cheese-monger and a phenomenal hairdresser.

As she left, he had, as happened to her more often than was believable, slipped her a piece of paper telling of a meeting happening in a secret location, and the person she could go to to find that meeting. Belfreja attracted revolutionaries the way her siblings attracted lovers.

She pocketed the paper; if her business with Yuriko went quickly, she’d check it out. Not only did she attract certain people, she really enjoyed cultivating them. She enjoyed, in a manner, cultivating everyone. It was part of her charm.

But she had to reach Yuriko before the girl knew she was coming, which meant getting across town sometime before the world ended, a shorter time limit now that it might have once been. So she cut her chit-chat with the next vendor to a mere half an hour, and hurried to the cafe where, she was pretty sure, her quarry would be.

She was rewarded for her diligence at Le Chat D’Argent et Noir, where, at a back table, a pretty girl with Japanese features and mocha skin was flirting with a customer. Belfreja picked a seat with care. She wanted it to take a while for Yuriko – she was pretty sure it was her, at this point; the green eyes were a dead giveaway – to notice her, but she wanted to be able to see if the girl left the restaurant, too.

Once seated, she sipped on her third coffee of the day, chatted up the handsome waiter, and, in between sips, muttered a Working to tell her more about her target.

It was Yuriko, that was certain; most people wore their self-identity like a name tag on their psyche, and she was no different. Blue-green with purple notes, a dream of the sky and feet barely planted on the earth, a flighty thing, a pretty thing, with a smile that could brighten the world.

That family line got the prettiest Changes, but it was Yuriko’s weather ability, and her skill at manipulating chaos, that had sent Bel to recruit her. That, and the fact that she was easily bullied, but only if you knew the right words.

Bel liked people whose keys she could twist, but only if nobody else could.

Once she’d gauged Yurkio’s identity and her mood, she shifted so that the girl could see her, making sure her Mask looked identical to her last year at Addergoole, making sure she looked like she wasn’t looking at her quarry, posed herself, and waited.

She was rewarded in short time by a quiet gasp and the sound of footsteps – towards her, good. They hadn’t been friends, but they hadn’t been enemies, either.

“Bel,” Yurkio said, from behind her, maybe hoping to surprise her. Bel jumped a little, just for fun, and turned, smiling.

“Oh, Yuri! I was hoping to find you here!”

“You were?” Yurkio sat down, looking unhappy. “I’ve got years till Tethys and Sören have to go to school.”

“You do,” she agreed. “I’m not here from Addergoole. I don’t work for them.”

“You don’t? I thought… your parents…”

Bel smiled ruefully. “Lots of people think that, sadly, but no. I’m not all that much like my parents. Either of them.”

“Blonde and beautiful.”

“But not, however, superficial. Unlike my maternal parent.” And unlike, she didn’t say, that judgement of me.

She didn’t need to say it; she was good like that. Yuriko nodded reluctantly. “Sorry. So, you were looking for me?”

“I was,” she agreed. “You have some very nice skills that are wasted working here, Yuri.”

“But I like wasting them working here,” the other girl pointed out sharply. “It’s pretty, it’s peaceful, and nobody bothers my kids.”

“It is all that,” she agreed. “But it’s not going to last.”

“You can’t know that!” The places where hooks would go were beginning to get formed. Bel started sharpening those hooks.

“I don’t,” she agreed, “but people I know do. It’s not a hard prognostication, and it’s being seen pretty regularly now.”

There, there was the first barb. Yuriko knew about seers. She’d been cy’Peletier, after all.

“I,” she frowned. “Not just in the States?”

“Not even first in the States. But we’re bunkering down, anyway, up north where things seem to be likely to stay stable.”

Stable was a good one; she could see it hit home. “And my kids?”

“Good teachers, other kids to play with – normal kids.” Normal was code for human, and human could be a very good thing… yes. Yes, she was almost hooked.

“And you could really use my skills? I could consider it…” she dithered.

Bel slipped in the final hook. “Jasper’s already there.”

Yuriko’s eyes widened. She’d always been fond of her second child’s father. Was she fond enough? “I’m in.”

Bel smiled. “Wonderful.” She loved her job.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/280348.html. You can comment here or there.

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In Any ‘Verse

For TheLadyisUgly’s prompt. This is set in the two AU’s of the Addergoole ‘verse, whose landing page is here on DW & here on LJ.


Jamian hadn’t been at his new school for more than a week when the pretty strawberry-blonde upperclassman cornered him.

“So,” she demanded, with a cheerful smile of perfect teeth, “are you going to ask me on a date?”

“I…” suspecting a prank, Jamian looked around for the girl’s other friends. She hung out with a tough crowd of dangerous-looking seniors and juniors, some of whom looked like the sort that would enjoy pushing the new kid around, or getting a laugh at his expense. Seeing no-one else around, he hazarded “was I supposed to?”

“Well, duh,” she smirked. “If you wanted a chance to talk to me outside of school.”

“Ah.” Not feeling any more clear about things, he offered, hesitantly, “would you like to go out for dinner sometime? I hear the restaurant down on Main and Schmidt is pretty cool.”

“D’Angelo’s?” She looked surprised. “That’s a really nice place, yeah. This Friday?”

“Just you and me, right?” Feeling a little braver, he added, “I can’t afford all of your friends, too.”

“Just you and me, handsome,” she assured him. “Pick me up at my mother’s at eight?”

“Sure…” His stepfather would let him borrow the car for proof he wasn’t really gay. “Uh… where?”

She smiled slowly at him, a teasing thing he was already in love with. “If you really want it, you’ll find out.”


“You’ve been here a month, and the only people that know your name are the ones who pay attention in your classes.”

“I’m sorry?” Jaya hadn’t even noticed there was someone in the student lounge; she had been cutting through on the way to her study hall. She turned around to search out the speaker, and found him looking up at her from an armchair.

“You should be.” He grinned up at her, offering her a hand languidly. “I’m Ty. I’m a senior here.”

“Jaya… freshman.” She didn’t quite squeak it out.

“Jaya. That’s a lovely name. Why so shy, Jaya?”

“I, uh…” Brilliant. “People generally aren’t all that nice when you’re the new kid. And I’ve been the new kid a lot.”

“Well, I’m always nice, and so are my friends. Sit with us at lunch today, instead of hiding in the corner?”

He didn’t make it sound so much like a request as a royal demand. She should have been offended, told him whatfor. But he really was the first person who’d bothered asking her name since she got here. “I’d like that,” she told him shyly. “Um, right in the middle, right?” Out where everyone could see them.

“Right in the middle,” he grinned. “Advantages to being a senior – or to being friends with one.”

And that was definitely a suggestion. “I see,” she agreed carefully. “I’ll see you there.”

“I look forward to it,” he purred.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/221457.html. You can comment here or there.

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