Tag Archive | prompter: lilfluff

Davyn didn’t know where he was. Well, he was in a kennel, yes. He was in a locked kennel that had been moving for a while, that, yes. But the kennel wasn’t quite moving anymore. It felt like he was in a car – in a trunk, maybe? That would be awful – and the car was moving.

“Bark?” he tried quietly.

“Good puppy, that’s it.” The girl’s voice came from very close – like she was sitting next to Davyn’s kennel. But if she was there, who was driving?

“Listen, my parents are – ow, ow… oww.”

“Good puppies stay quiet, puppy. Now, what do you think I should call you?”

Davyn whined. He had a name. He had parents, who might actually miss him. He had a home, and this whole thing had been a horrible, awful, no-good plan.

“Let’s see. I think… Spots?”

No, no, whether or not he had freckles, he did NOT want to be Spots. Davyn whined louder, hoping he could get away with that much.

“Mmm. All right. I think Fleet. Fleet’s a good dog name, don’t you think?”

Davyn stayed quiet. There was nothing he could say to that. Heck, there was nothing he could say, period, not without getting zapped.

“That’s a good puppy. And here we are! We’re going to have so much fun, you and me, pup. Fleet. You’re going to be a good Fleet for me, aren’t you?”

What had he gotten himself into? Davyn stayed quiet, and hoped the crazy woman would at least remember to feed him.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/879458.html. You can comment here or there.

Failure to Properly Case the Joint

Dec31

“Should we stop him?”

Anya was new to the guarding business, just out of the Academy and still shiny around the edges.

“Naw.”

Tobin, on the other hand, had been guarding Miss Anna’s Establishment for forty years.

“He’s gonna…”

“Darlin’.” Only someone like Tobin could call someone like Anya darlin’ and survive it. “It’s Miss Anna. And that’s her private audience chamber.“

“Oh?” It didn’t take her all THAT long for it to click. “Oh!”

“I’m pretty sure the last burglar to try to break in there is still ‘working off his debt.'”

“When was that?”

“Oh? Mmm… four, five years ago.” He grinned. “Let the guy get in. My boots need shining.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/876493.html. You can comment here or there.

The Ruins of the Caschitari, for the micropromptcall

Dec31

By the time the Earth ships found the Caschitari, it was too late. The Puradoon had already been through, and had wiped out everything; every building bigger than a shack had been knocked down, every lifeform they could find had been destroyed; the libraries, the data centers, the cultural spots had all been ashed.

From the readings, the human scientists estimated the Puradoon had come through about a decade past. They did that, the Puradoon, washed through star systems like locusts. Earth was close to stopping them – but too late for the Caschitari.

Or so they thought. Until the sensors picked up strange readings, deep in the basement of what had been the great museum of the Caschitari. A seed? A seed, the scientists agreed. A seed of…

They brushed dirt off of an ancient drinking vessel, and noises began. Talking noises, whispers, at first, and then louder. Building noises, all at once.

From the tiny seed deep in a drinking vessel, the Caschitari civilization was rebuilding itself.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/875008.html. You can comment here or there.

December Meme Day Twenty-Two: comfort food

Dec26

The Meme

Today’s prompt is from lilfluff: Comfort foods

Mmm Comfort food.

I’m one of those people that has to not work to eat all their feelings… and I also tend to want to feed everyone else. “You’re sad? Here, have food. Angry? Food. Happy? Celebratory food!”

But when I really need comforting… when I’m sick, it’s broff (broth) if I’m really sick, or chicken soup if I’m just a bit sick.

I like this risotto that T. cooks, too – it’s got just a bit too much cheese in it, and sweet onions, and it’s creamy and starchy. If I’m feeling ambitious, it’s mac n’ cheese, although cauliflower and cheese works okay with the thick cheese sauce we use.

I mean… really, anything familiar is going to be good. Sometimes the comfort food I want is enchiladas Thorne, made with rice & lentils and taco sauce. Sometimes it’s pizza, bought from the take-out place down the street. And sometimes it’s chocolate chip cookies, with the recipe I’ve got memorized. It’s mostly starches, really. I like starches when I want comfort food. <.< Starches and fat.

And then there was that once, when I was feeling lousy, when I found the recipe my mom used when I was sick – vanilla custard – and made it myself. ‘Cause as much as I like being taken care of, I’m a grown-up now, and sometimes you just gotta make your own comfort.

What about you? What’s your favorite comfort food?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/871348.html. You can comment here or there.

December Meme – Day Thirteen (shh)

Dec16

The Meme

Today’s prompt is from lilfluff: Your favorite games

Ooh!

I like games, although I am not the board game fanatic that some of my friends are. I grew up playing gin rummy with my dad, Uno with my grandmother, Yahtzee with family & Monopoly whenever I could get people to play with me. My first fiance and I played Pente a lot, and he made a stab at teaching me chess, but i have little patience for strategy.

And, of course, I’m a gamer, so there’s things like World of Darkness – Vampire, Werewolf, Changeling, etc., in primarily Live-action but also tabletop forms. I’m facinated by EarthDawn/ShadowRun but have never played them. And, while we’re talking about roleplaying, I enjoy playing in my own settings most of all.

Computer games: I try not to get too involved, or I lose months. I liked Flight Rising until they were mean to Djinni, at which point I lost interest completely. I was utterly into Glitch until they folded, much sadface all around. And currently I’m into FarmVille, much to my enjoyment and consternation.

Games! I like playing Scrabble with my husband, although he almost always wins. And we’ve been playing Carcasonne lately, and I really enjoy that a lot.

I suppose “my favorite” game is the one I’m into at the moment, whatever moment that might happen to be.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/866155.html. You can comment here or there.

Reunited, a story bit of Planners (@lilfluff)

Dec1

I asked for Non-Addergoole Prompts here; this is to lilfluff‘s prompt.

235 words, ‘Planners verse 5 years post-Collapse.

The Far Northeast branch of the Family had done everything by the book, and then improvised where there was no book. They had gotten their Ark Library secure before the first murmurs of trouble, and had been all safe inside, with an equal number of non-Family experts and friends as Family, when the worst troubles hit. They had sat tight, letting in a select handful of wandering refugees only as they could safely feed and shelter, and had immediately begun classes in which everyone taught and everyone learned. Their food supplies exceeded book suggestions. Their heating plans were on par for the northern Maine winters. They were completely, totally prepared.

The problem was, they had also been, for five long years, completely, totally isolated from the rest of the world. Communications lines had not survived the collapse, which had been anticipated.

What hadn’t been anticipated, or at least not considered relevant, was the strange flailing feeling of a continent-sprawling organization in constant contact with one another suddenly finding itself cut into component pieces.

The day the Family scouts finally found the Far Northeast Ark Library, the Northers broke into every reserve stock for their party. Alcohol flowed. Chocolate was baked. Rich foods were served, and loud music boomed.

Of course, while five years was not all that long in terms of the Family’s long view, it was certainly long enough to drift away from Plan…

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/856755.html. You can comment here or there.

Doomsday Intro: Chaos and Madness (@lilfluff)

Nov19

Nano project #5 is the first novella in a series of 8, following 8 students through their 8 years at Doomsday Academy.

That means, of course, I need to figure out 8 students. Three I had pregenerated: The Catboy Samurai and his best friends Sianna the dancer and Sweetbriar the prickly. The other five…

Well, here’s a little something about one.

The school was big. It wasn’t big-big, not like the ruined city you’d seen once, but it was still big, and it was inside a city, a not-ruined city with walls and houses and animals.

And it was busy, everyone going here and there and everyone talking to everyone else. There didn’t seem to be any order. There didn’t seem to be anyone in charge.

There were people in collars, sure. Everywhere had people in collars. But you saw one of those people in collars telling someone not collared what to do – and the not-collared person went and did it!

You found a quiet place where you wouldn’t be in anyone’s way, a little platform up in a tree. It didn’t look like anyone had been using it recently, so you probably weren’t breaking any rules.

From here, you could watch the students and teachers – you assumed they were students and teachers, but it wasn’t like any school you’d ever seen – the strangers and the slaves, and try to figure out where everyone fit in.

It didn’t seem like anyone did, that was the thing. And, more than that, there didn’t seem to be any place for you to fit in.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/851113.html. You can comment here or there.

Prince Rodegard Visits the Imperial Capital, a story for the Dungeon & Cave Call

Oct21

Written to lilfluff‘s prompt.

“I’ve always wanted to see the Imperial Capital.” Prince Rodegard bounced in his seat, ignoring the armed guards surrounding him and acting not nearly the age Edora had been assured he was. “Is it as shining and bright and tall as everyone says it is?”

He was a hostage, technically. The entire railway car was filled with people devoted to getting him – and, by proxy, Edora – back to the Imperial Capital, where he would remain as assurance of his royal mother’s good behavior. But the young prince had volunteered, and, from the looks of things, hardly understood the situation he was in.

Well, it was Edora’s job to instruct him, as well as to protect, guide, and direct him. “Well, as with anything, your Royal Highness,” she replied, in the language of the Capital and of her childhood, “there are many facets to the Capital, and some of them shine more than others.”

The Prince blinked at her. “What was that?”

“The language spoken in the Imperial Palace. It is called Eskembion by those who speak it, your Royal Highness.”

“I thought the whole Empire spoke Cetechlain! It’s the language of trade, isn’t it? It’s the universal language!” The boy looked panicked.

Edora smiled. “The Empire is large, young princeling. And it was once many small kingdoms, with many small cultures.”

The boy – the Prince – leaned forward. “That was a different language.”

“Very good. That was Telirienan, spoken in the far South and in parts of the East-“

“-where the Imperial Consort came from.” Rodegard nodded slowly. “How many languages do you speak, Dame Edora?”

Time to explain her actual title to him later; he likely thought he was being polite. “Seven fluently, five more functionally, and I can swear in three more. By the time I am done with you, your Royal Highness, you will know at least three of those.”

“Done with…” He was turning a bit grey. Good. Edora smiled.

“I have six months to prepare you for Her Imperial Highness. We’re going to have to do a lot of work.”

Edora Begins to Explain Life to Prince Rodegard

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/831779.html. You can comment here or there.

Flying Squirrel: Frying Pan, Fire?

Sep11

A continuation of Flying-Squirrel’s Freedom (or Fetters)

“Freck, freck, freck!” Farley was still fighting against the fetters when the Fondly sisters came for him.

The foremost one – Fanny, probably – was dangling a set of keys from her finger. Her red-furred ear sported a new notch, but she and Fiona were otherwise unscathed. “Finally.” Fanny’s smile had way too many teeth. “Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you?”

“And we only had to kill half a pirate ship to get you.” Fiona looked around ostentatiously. “I wonder where we can get some more crew…”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/808481.html. You can comment here or there.

Flying-Squirrel’s Freedom (or Fetters)

Aug22

Written to

lilfluff ‘s prompt

Farley woke fuzzily. The fetters were fixing him firmly in place, pressed against some sort of stake in the ground.

"Fuck." He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and shifted his arms. A series of dull aches and sharp pains greeted the movement. The webs between his arms and body were stretched badly. His hands were bound above his head and behind the stake; his ankles were bound similarly. At least he was on his knees. That gave him a little bit of slack – a little. Not nearly enough.

Where was he? Bound to a stake, that much was clear. But… oh. A mast. Farley swallowed around a lump in his throat. This wasn’t going to go well. If the pirates…

"Eeeee-ah!" Farley jerked his head around, trying to look behind him, and got nothing but more pain for his efforts. That shout. He knew that shout.

"Diiiiiiie!" And that one. Farley struggled against the chains in earnest now. The Fondly sisters were very good fighters – very, very good fencers. Unless the pirates that had him were of the Natashon Clan, they didn’t stand a chance. And, in a manner of speaking, neither did Farley.

The Fondly sisters were very friendly. Very, very friendly. And, while Farley wasn’t the sort of squirrel to stay in one place – he was a flying squirrel, pretty much your definition of flit-about – well, the Fondly sisters had a way of making their wishes come true.

"Dieeeee… aw, you died."

Farley fought harder against the fetters.

Further fic: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/808481.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/785071.html. You can comment here or there.

Alder's Grove Fiction

The Worlds of Lyn Thorne-Alder