Welcome to Alder's Grove
"Because everything is better with the end of the world."

Welcome! Below you can find hundreds - thousands, really - of posts, many of them fiction.

I write a lot - much in established universes, some in one-off settings. Much of what I write ends up here. In addition, you'll find homesteading blogging, the occasional crafts-and-clothing post, and journals of my wine-tourism of New York State.

Here (and here on Livejournal) you'll find an index of my universes. Each 'verse has its own landing page with an index of stories within.

My commission rates are here (and on LJ); you can tip (tips go in a general pool to sponsor longer stories, voted on monthly), sponsor an already-written story, or commission a story to be written. Or you can become a Patreon Patron and unlock even more fiction!


Tip the Thorne-Author

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/64348.html. You can comment here or there.

Wild Card, a story of Aunt Family for a very old Ladies_bingo card (@wyld_dandelyon)
This is written to [personal profile] wyld_dandelyon's prompt to my "Wild Card" square of this [community profile] ladiesbingo card from 2014.

Aunt family, rather early on in Eva's story, I think.

It was a quiet evening, a Friday on the edge between autumn and winter. There was a fire roaring in the wood stove - their family liked to do things old-school when they could - and the lanterns were all filled and ready. Nights like this, the power liked to go out, and if there was one thing the family as a whole agreed on, it was that being prepared was far better than cursing the darkness.

Especially considering the darkness had a tendency of cursing back people like them.

Eva was playing cards - gin rummy, a relatively safe pursuit - with one of her older aunts. Aunt Karaleen had celebrated her hundred-and-third birthday just a few months ago, and while nobody would ever say one of their family was going senile, she did tend to forget what decade it was now, and she had a habit of wandering combined with the family's trademark stubbornness. About the only way to keep her in one place for any length of time was to entertain her, and tonight was Eva's turn.
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Is there more
Aunt Family
in the cards?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1098032.html. You can comment here or there.

The Baroness and the Pauper, a story of Tír na Cali, posted for Patreon patrons

The Baroness and the Pauper

A story of Tír na Cali

Nora shifted from foot to foot. She felt awkward and uncomfortable; standing here, in the manor house, she felt grubby, her skin itchy. “Look, if this is about the thing with the overseer...” She’d only been a slave for six months. She’d spent most of it getting in trouble, and most of that annoying the overseer. Who worked for this woman, this… Baroness.

Inside her shower, the Baroness... (read on...)

You can get stories like this every month!

Support my on Patreon - pledge just $5/month to prompt stories every month and $1/month to read them all!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1097913.html. You can comment here or there.

FDomme stories - one of these to be continued for a bit.
Okay, I have a lot of "male captive" stories (for a reason), all of 'em hanging around unfinished.

(please feel free to suggest others, this is just off the top of my head):

Reynard and Elle
Mieve and Amrit*
Daxton and Esha ***
Arisse and Chress **
Jahnan And Yira...

Which one should I focus on for the next, say 5000-10000 words of entertaining not-currently-for-profit fic?

(These may turn into books of the self-pub variety at some point...)

(*s mark "votes", since I didn't feel like making this a poll and I won't treat it as binding, more like recommendations)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1097491.html. You can comment here or there.

A Deal is Made, Epilogue
Part I - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1082356.html
Part II - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1082751.html
Part III - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1091513.html
Part IV - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1095923.html

Regine pulled up the computer program that kept all of her student data, glad once again that she had upgraded her machines just before the catastrophe. You could still buy computer parts in a few select enclaves, but their methods left something to be desired and they almost always included as much spyware as actual computer.

She performed a search on extant and incoming students into the school, and then performed the search two more times. “That…” She stared at the screen with a decidedly unpleasant feeling before finally raising her voice. “Hayley!”

“Yes, Director Regine?”

“Call in Luca Hunting Hawk and Michael VanderLinden. Now.”

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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1097360.html. You can comment here or there.

"I don't believe..." a ficlet for the (long-over) Impossible Situations mini-call
E-mail box clean out continues!
This is to a combination of lilfluff's and rix_scaedu's prompts here

"I don't believe in aliens." The elf lord stuck his chin out and glared at the gathered others. "There is life aplenty on this planet, for one. For another, the stars are gods-lights trailing across the ceiling of the world. There is no place for these 'alien beings' to come from."

Others on the council nodded their heads. "There are the gods, but they do not visit this planet except in cases of extreme emergency." A grey-haired elf ticked off points on her long fingers. "There are us, the fae of Underhill and the Hidden Vale. There are humans. There are the water-borne, who are neither fae nor human. That is more than enough for anyone to deal with."

The messenger cleared his throat uncomfortably. Up until a week ago, he hadn't believed in aliens either - and until half an hour ago, he hadn't believed in elves. "Be that as it may, ma'am, sir, everyone... but the aliens want a breeding pair of unicorns, and you are our last hope of finding any."

Tip Box ;-)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1097021.html. You can comment here or there.

 Hey, has anyone heard from [personal profile] kuro_neko00 ?  I realized I hadn't heard from them for a while....

If they've just stopped reading my work, that's fine, but I worry when people vanish. This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1096941.html. You can comment here or there.

Buffy goes to Addergoole, a crossover fic in need of a name, Part I
Buffy the Vampire Slayer ~ Addergoole

“Hey Giles.” Buffy strode into the library at Sunnydale High and dropped an envelope in front of her Watcher. “Got some weird mail. Figure you can do the research on it and get all Watcher-y or something.”

“I am certain I can be all... Watcher.. y.” Giles held the envelope by one corner and stared at it. “Buffy, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I need to look at this in private.”

“Whatevs. Just let me know if something needs slayage. I'm going to go work on my tan.” She pivoted on her heel towards the door, only to stop inches short of the swinging door. “Ooor not. Hi, Will.”

“Oh, hi, Buffy.” Willow barely seemed to notice her. “Giles? I got some totally weird piece of mail, and I'm having concerns.” Willow stuck her head and one hand in the library door, displaying an envelope hanging in a plastic sheet protector. “I looked this place up, and their web site is totally legit, but it's spooky, in the 'maybe too legit' sort of way, if you know what I mean, which I bet you totally don't, but that's okay, because... oh. Could you see if maybe I missed something?”
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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1096503.html. You can comment here or there.

Lilfluff has a prompt call open!
Go check out [personal profile] lilfluff 's prompt call to the theme "alternatives."

He's taking prompts to his last two bingo cards, as well as more general prompts and "more of xxx"

Go prompt!  

Edit: Fluff has a landing page of sorts here which serves as a good starting place for his work. This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1096351.html. You can comment here or there.

Story repost for the "April Showers" Patreon Theme
Don't Cry, Baby 
a repost from 2013

Addergoole, beginning of Year 13 - originally posted here and slightly edited. (One of only two retro posts I could find involving rain/showers!)

“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 at the storm or the shower, and say the same thing, every time.

When she tripped and skinned her knee, “Don’t cry, baby..."

continue reading (free for everyone) on Patreon - here This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1096157.html. You can comment here or there.

A Deal is Made, Part IV
Part I - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1082356.html
Part II - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1082751.html
Part III: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1091513.html

Cya was not smiling. It was very important for some reason that she was not smiling.

Regine had lived with Michael and Luke as her crew for quite some time, and she could predict with some accuracy what they might say in this situation.

“She’s not playing a game.” Luke had said that on more than one occasion. “Even when she is laughing, she is not playing, any more than you are. It’s important to remember that.”

Michael did not like to talk about Boom quite so much, although he seemed quite fond of Cloverleaf and several of their other projects. When he’d been advising Regine about this trip, he had said a few pertinent things, including “Remember you’re talking about her children and descendants. Remember how biased even you can be about your own blood.” and “If she smiles, she’s comfortable, confident. If she stops smiling, you might do well to be worried.”
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Epilogue - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1097360.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1095923.html. You can comment here or there.

Thinking about an Addergoole Kickstarter (Finally)
Okay, I'm ready to start planning the Addergoole Book One Kickstarter. The book is drafted, so step one done (it's been drafted for well over a year...)

Things I know I need:
* Cover art/layout
* Editing

Things I might like:
* Layout done professionally, both e- and paper book
* internal art/poster art

Things I maybe Need:

From those basic lists, what am I missing?

In addition, if you were going to support this sort of Kickstarter, what sort of reward tiers/stretch goals would you like?

(Note: this sort, because I know Addergoole is not everyone's cuppa tea.)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1095514.html. You can comment here or there.

First Three Sex-canons posted
In response to this meme, I have posted sex-headcanons for the following three characters:

Rozen (Addergoole)
Doug (also Addergoole)
Ruan (Aunt Family)

The original post is still open for more comments~

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1095246.html. You can comment here or there.

Weekend Projects with Variable Success
Pantry Cooking and Bird Eviction

This weekend, the major projects were cleaning up the pantry cupboards in our kitchen and evicting a bird family from our house framework.

Our "pantry" is the five cupboards on one side of our kitchen where we keep mostly dry ingredients and a few meal mixes, along with "oh this looks cool." So we pulled everything out, made a few things, tossed a couple things in the compost, and cleaned it out.

We made: sweet bread with a pecan-royal jelly filling, tapioca (well, we started it) from non-instant tapioca (soak overnight), black cherry gelatin, orzo and yellow lentils with curry and grape tomatoes, and then, for lunches, barley-split pea soup with cream of broccoli soup mix, broccoli stems, and dehydrated vegetables (and some ham).

The bird problem was, ah, less fun.
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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1094943.html. You can comment here or there.

Fun Meme yoinked...
...from [personal profile] d_generate_girl:


Give me a character, and I will write (up to) three pieces of sexual headcanon for them.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1094792.html. You can comment here or there.

#Fridayfiveminutemap - Same world, different era!
Folchir"s Fort.jpg

While I was looking up maps, I encountered the premise of "friday 5-minute maps." And, while nobody had been active on any of the tags in a while, I thought it looked fun.

So here's my first idea: Folchir's Fort.

This stands (loosely) where on my big map project there is a red star - 'cept it's been long enough (approx 1500-2000 years ago) that the river has moved. The bigger houses are meant to be almost longhouse style: communal big buildings thrown up quickly, because shelter was needed.

(I gotta say, some of the maps in the Google Plus community are amazing for 5 minutes!)

Now taking suggestions for the next few fridays worth of maps.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1094303.html. You can comment here or there.

Complications and then Complications, a continuation of a fanfic of Narnia and Valdemar
first: A Door in the Wall
Second: On the Other Side of the Door
Third: The Call Comes Again
Fourth: New Travelling Companions

It could not be hugging Horses forever, of course. Susan reluctantly released Leffen’s neck and stepped back, curtseying again to make up for her lack of manners. “My apologies again. Herald Soleck, Companion Leffen, you have a mission for us?”

“I do, yes. The first step of that mission is rest, however, and outfits more suitable for Valdemar. You have come from very far away, I believe, but we wish it not appear such to outsiders. Can you stand a short walk? Perhaps a candlemark?”

Susan could hazard a guess at a “candlemark,” but it did not really matter. She nodded at Peter’s raised eyebrow; she would walk all day if she had to, to be out in nature again, and to be on a mission again.

“We can walk that far,” Peter agreed. “As long as the terrain’s not too harsh.”
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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1094098.html. You can comment here or there.

Trope Bingo - a fun idea...
I had a fun idea for trope bingo but uh...

Jan 1: Signups open
Jan 15: Bingo posting begins
April 15: Last day to request a first card
April 30: Last day to request a second card
April 30: Last day to post bingos for This round
May 1: Amnesty beings
June 30: Amnesty ends
July 1: Next round begins</s>

So it'll have to wait. Edited to add: There's [community profile] genprompt_bingo, thanks rix_scaedu!

(the idea was something like: Make a list of settings of mine that are cross-over-able;
make a list of fanfic settings I can comfortably xover into. Roll a die for each, write one or a whole bingo series in that. repeat.)

Speaking of... what settings of mine are good for crossing over? Or maybe - any you can think of that AREN'T?

(And did Kink_bingo go away?)

FanFic settings:
Marvel CMU
DC/Batman (comics)
Dr. Who, mostly modern
Criminal Minds
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Harry Potter
Star Wars

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1093766.html. You can comment here or there.

The Expectant Wood, Chapter One: Trouble at the Stamen

Chapter One: Trouble at the Stamen

“Mem! Pearl! Come onnn.” The nearer you got to the center of the island, the steeper the terrain got, the further ahead Nimbus’ mother and older sister got, and the more her little sister Billow complained about it....

Nimbus and her family are on an ordinary expedition to the Center of the island of Aereaxera when things start getting a bit noisy.

This fantasy adventure story takes place in and around the sky islands of The Aereaxerer archipelago. It will post once/month (although it will start at 2 posts/month to catch up) and is available to all Patreon patrons.

Supporting my fiction on Patreon costs as little as
$1/month and gives you access to stories above and beyond those posted here on Dreamwidth/Livejournal.

Interested? Check out The Expectant Wood and pledge today!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1093615.html. You can comment here or there.

The Stranded Prompts Are Complete
With the posting of a Summer story a moment ago, the Stranded prompts I opened to a tiny group of people (for reasons; I might try that again some time) are completed.

The list:
The "Festival" series:
A Wink...
Nothing Could Possib-lie Go Wrong (Summer)
Places One Doesn't Go (Winter)
At Home (Spring)
Sight and Sense (Autumn)

The others:
The Thing About Tangling... (Spring)
The Words of Magic
A Drabble of Summer

I'll offer continuations at the Giraffe Call rate of $1/100 words for the next week
Tip the Thorne-Author

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1093197.html. You can comment here or there.

A drabble of Summer
More or less to [personal profile] eseme's prompt and a companion to Character Study: Melinda

Summer was always the last to go to sleep.

She liked the quiet moments at the end of the day, the way she could cuddle with a sleepy Bishop and Mellie until, one and then the other, they headed off to their giant cobbled-together bed. She liked stroking their hair and their backs while they watched TV or studied together - sometimes, despite all advice, both at once. She liked sleepy late-night kisses.

And then she strolled the house alone, listening to the noises the old place made, picking up this and that. Sometimes she would whisper charms for her family, charms for her lovers. Sometimes she'd just stay up studying.

Tonight, she wandered out to the back yard and stared up at the stars. It felt like they were watching, reminding her to be good.

Summer stuck her tongue out at them and went back inside, where the lights were warmer and less distant.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1093006.html. You can comment here or there.

Rivers and Lakes were made, but...
...no pictures today because I made a muck up of trying to make the long rivers more curvy. <.<

Tomorrow I will trace the map and start clean with shiny new curvy rivers.

And some lakes, preferably ones that don't look like a troll-head. Those old troll dolls with all the hair.

I keep forgetting you don't need visible obvious rivers feeding into a lake (visible on a continent-scale map, that is). It could all be streams.

Pictures tomorrow!

(pre-curvied drawings can be shown here - https://twitter.com/lynthornealder/status/722939920877273088 - that at least decide placement of the rivers in broad scale)

Edit (again): Please ignore the awful scribbles that are the rivers. This is for basic city and border placement.
photo behind cutCollapse )

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1092832.html. You can comment here or there.

A Reason, a continuation of Space Accountant
This follows after: Taking Chances, Betting on it, Betting Time, Bunking Arrangements, and Accidental.

It is a partial answer to kelkyag's question here and is only a year and a half in coming...

"Spill." First Mate Cleonorayen Clyd flopped into the spare chair in Quatermaster Marist Irio's bunk without asking or even knocking. She made up for it by thunking down a thick bottle filled with a bluish liquid.

Marist grabbed two heavy-bottomed glasses and poured generous shots. "You're talking about the little accountant, right?"

"Bunk change. Bunk change, Marist, what on earth possessed you?"

"What? She wanted a bunk change, I gave her one. Pretty Marsey there is going to be a happy-if-confused young man for the next year."

"But he could have been that without a marriage contract. What are you up to?"

"Pitmaster." Marist threw back her drink in one swallow. "If the girl is in a marriage contract, she doesn't go to the Pit. And none of us want her going to the Pit... do we?"

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1092113.html. You can comment here or there.

Adding mountains to a fantasy map... with split peas~
After the lentil map yesterday, I wanted to add mountains next.

So back to the pantry!

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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1091857.html. You can comment here or there.

Cali, Femdom, Catgirls, Part III (@dahob)
After Cali, Femdom, Catgirlsand Part II.

"So." The cat-girl, the woman who owned him, Lady Sharanna (all of that in a petite and terrifying package), slipped behind the wheel of the car and started the engine with a button-push. "Why did you fight them?"

Daniel swallowed his first response, and then decided maybe it was the best answer. "They kidnapped me. They took my clothes. They stuck a collar on me."

After a moment that had gone on long enough that Daniel had begun to worry, "Those are," she said thoughtfully, "rather good reasons to fight. But it got you..."

"Bruised. Chained." Daniel shrugged defensively. "It made a point."

"Ah." She let the silence drag on again. "So... what point are you making now?"

"Now?" It was his turn to hesitate, giving it more thought than he'd thought he'd have to. "Now... I guess I'm proving that if you treat me like a person, I can act like a reasonable hu- a reasonable being, too."

She pulled the car out of the parking garage, a smile growing on her face. "Good." It was still a very sharp smile, but this time Daniel actually felt a little reassured. "I like that point."

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1091621.html. You can comment here or there.

A Deal is Made, Part III (finally)
Part I - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1082356.html
Part II - http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1082751.html

Regine barely managed not to gape at Cya like a fish. But the fiend was still going. “In addition, I want access to all of the data you access in this manner.”

Regine could not help a supercilious eyebrow raise, no matter how many times Mike had told her Do not raise your eyebrows at her. Do not. “Do you think you can follow the genetic data?”

“Well, if I can’t, my house geneticist can.” Cya shrugged as if a lifetime of studying genetics was nothing.

Regine cleared her throat. “Well. Be that as it may, I’m not going to allow your descendants to skip out on the Addergoole school. That might be as much as half of my population by this point.”

“Skip out?” Cya laughed. “No, I can’t imagine you’d agree to that. No. Just an agreement that, while attending Addergoole, each and every one of Boom’s descendants gets a pass. One time, when they’re in over their heads — bad Keeper, bad promise, the current big-bad-wolf — you, the staff, will help them out of it. The Keepings aren’t real, the promises aren’t real, you’re not damaging the Law by doing so.”

“But what lesson do we teach them, if they can get out of trouble at the first drop of a hat?” Regine had conducted this argument several times over the decades. She didn’t flinch.

And neither did Cya. The smile grew, as a matter of fact, and got sharp. Her voice was edgy now. “You’d be teaching them that the adults who Mentor them are their backup, are there to protect and guide them. You’d be teaching them to have allies.”

“We teach them to have crews, to find help and allies in their cy’ree, to be friends with their former Keepers and Kept.”

“After their first year. You isolate them from other first-year students, do not push the idea of a Mentor until they are either already collared or soon to be, and sometimes allow the interference of the Keeper in Mentor choice. The staff generally frowns on the idea of first-year students finding crews, and, while you may pretend to like and encourage them, you discourage crews actively standing up for one another.” Cya was still lounging against her couch, but her words were anything but casual.

And they were accurate. “It’s proven beneficial to encouraging the Keeper-Kept relationship…”

“Which you encourage, I assume, to ‘encourage’ the production of more little babies for your project. A point which is pretty moot when you do not allow students to leave until they’ve provided you with those babies.”

“Students also need to understand the dangers of Keeping and the problems inherent in both sides of the relationship before they are out in the world,” Regine insisted. Now Cya was no longer smiling. Regine was not sure that was an improvement.

“I’m certain you’re aware that you and I will never agree on that point. Be that as it may, there are other ways to encourage Keeping, and by encouraging good Keepings and allowing the possibility that the ‘trapped’ Kept could ask for a reprieve, you allow students to understand what a healthy Keeping should look like, before they go out in the world and perpetuate bad habits.”

Regine opened her mouth and closed it again, her lips curling into a frown. “Surely you’re not insinuating that Addergoole is responsible for the actions of its students once they’ve graduated?”

“No. I’m saying that you and your choices are responsible for a great deal of misery in the world. However,” Cya plowed on blithely, “that doesn’t matter. You’ve done some awful things, and now you want a favor from me. Does that about sum it up?”

Regine bit her tongue and counted to ten. “I come asking a favor of you, yes,” she answered levelly.

“Therefore, your justifications really don’t matter. The question is: will you agree to my terms?”

Part IV: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1095923.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1091513.html. You can comment here or there.

Sight And Sense, a continuation story of Autumn
After/concurrent with Nothing could possib-lie go wrong, Places One Doesn't Go, At Home, and A Wink.

The man with the eyeball tattoo was looking at Autumn when his eyebrows went up. His gaze slid off of her; Autumn glanced briefly, but he wasn't looking at anything obvious in the physical world.

She stepped inside her tent while his attention was elsewhere and shifted her own vision Strandward, looking for the disturbance that had clearly caught his attention. Just as she opened her vision, her own Strands yanked at her.

The tug was tangible and sudden, pulling her from three points like an off-balance marionette. She didn't need to look to know: the cool blue of Winter's
strand pulled from her right temple, where she'd painted his arrow under her hairline. The green-yellow of Summer's strand pulled from her breastbone, where she'd painted a mask. The orange-and-blue of Spring's strand yanked from down lower, where she'd painted the chaos sign just below her navel.

Her family was here, and they were doing... something. Autumn called to the woman in the next booth over to cover her till. Something strange was going on.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1091102.html. You can comment here or there.

The Facility, a story of Doomsday Academy, available on Patreon for patrons

The Facility

"Almost... almost."

Milana should not have been their entry specialist. Helji talked to machines. Signy broke things. But Milana had delicate, clever fingers, Helji was busy figuring out the archaic and terrifying building system, and Signy had both hands full of guards, rather literally.

So Milana was here, crouched in front of a nice door lock that seemed to be purely mechanical, muttering quiet Workings at it...

(read on...: Available to all patrons.

Pledge just $1 a month to gain access to all these stories; pledge $5 or more a month to prompt these tales!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1091066.html. You can comment here or there.

Commission Slots open!
I'm now taking up to four $5 commission slots!

$5 will get you 250 words on any given topic of your choice - if you're not sure if I want to write it, ask first, but, for instance, anything tagged "morepls" is a fair bet.


How Many Words?

If all 4 slots are filled by the close of day on the 23rd April (Say 9 pm. Eastern time), I'll write an additional 250 words to a prompt chosen by the donors.</s>

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1090766.html. You can comment here or there.

Mentor... and Student, a commissioned continuation of Addergoole Yr 17 (@rix_scaedu)
rix_scaedu's commissioned continuation of Mentor-Student. Her name is Eurydice; it just never comes up in conversation.

“Well,” Doug admitted to the angry young woman in front of him, “we’re stuck with each other. They think we can work together.”

His Student - or so it seemed it was going to be - raised her eyebrow at him. “You sound so thrilled. Don’t go throwing me a party or anything.”

“Well,” Doug grunted, both embarrassed and annoyed, “you’re right. It’s not how it’s supposed to go.”

“Wait.” She leaned forward. “Say that again.”

Doug didn’t bother asking which part she wanted to hear. He could guess. “You’re right.”

“Awww, yeah.” She lit her lighter again. “I could get used to that. So you don’t like ‘em screwing with the system, either. So why’d they stick you with me? We can ‘work together?’ What’s that code for? You can brainwash me better?”
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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1090377.html. You can comment here or there.

Making a fantasy map with lentils~
First things first: hattip [personal profile] becka_sutton, for showing me this video.

This is my attempt at creating Yet Another Fantasy World via the "pile of stuff on the paper" method.

(Photos behind cut)

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(this is for the setting I've been working on for a story whose working title is Portal Bound)

P.S. North is to the right on all these. Not sure why the images insist on being rotated.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1090269.html. You can comment here or there.

At Home, a story of Spring
After/concurrent with Nothing could possib-lie go wrong and Places One Doesn't Go.

The fest was wild, and Spring and Lance were in the heart of it. A place like this didn't need too much tangling - so many people here were already quite twisted up, wound in with other people, braided in with their own stories. But it was still fun to watch the tangles and knots, and it was still just a fun place to be, where nobody would look sideways at the girl with chaos tattooed on her chest or the handsome man in the very-well-fit pants and silky shirt who somehow seemed at home in the sea of tie-dye and batik, ripped denim and torn flannel.

"You look perfect," Lance told her. "You're aligned exactly with this place, did you know that?"

Spring stretched up, fingers tickling the air. "I know. This place is my place. It's my people." She dropped her arms so she could wiggle her fingers at a man covered in black-ink tattoos. "It's like home, you know, like family? Can't stand to spend all your time there, but it's awesome when you go back for a bit."

"Excuse me." The voice cut across the cacophony, although it sounded both quiet and calm. "I believe you are mistaken about some important matters." There was no speaker visible. The sound was coming from the back fence.

Spring grabbed Lance's hand. "Speaking of family... we need to be over there. Now."

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1089751.html. You can comment here or there.

Second-year magic lessons, year 6 (Addergoole)
This is written to a prompt cluudle left back in August, 2015

Luke didn't like her, and he really did not like teaching her.

Shahin found that a little amusing, but she tried not to antagonize the man too much. She wanted to become better at Kwxe. Everything she found in every vision told her she was going to need it. Everything the teachers didn't want to tell her enforced that - up to and including the fact that, despite the fact that Luke did not like teaching her, he'd agreed to meet with her three times a week to practice Kwxe.

"What are you going to use this for?" he demanded today. Shahin smiled, a small expression that was as dry and as careful as she could make it.

"I was thinking," she offered, "that I would use it to stop Dragons. Or - if I can't stop them..." She would stop them, she knew it. But that would be much later. "...then to stall them."

She noted that he was surprised, and a bit chagrined, and quite a bit worried. She decided she could live with that.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1089486.html. You can comment here or there.

Such a lovely weekend!

This was my Big Four-Oh, or, as I like to think of it, the very beginning of a 7-month-long celebration. And it was an awesome celebration!

We went to visit our friends in Troy (E.Mc and Pivin; I was in their wedding a couple years ago. We visit them as much as we can manage). There we had awesome sliders (the only meat-on-bread you'll get me to eat, unless you count tortillas as bread) at http://slidindirty.com/, a short but very fun hike at Saratoga Spa State Park (Hot springs!) and a longer hike around Saratoga Springs, the town. I found some lovely books in a used book store described to me as having non-Euclidian geometry involved in its layout (I think it's just L-Space ;-) and a nice necklace in a really creepy "antique" market going out of business.

Then we had dinner at http://www.pecksarcade.com/ - nom nom nom.

There was a lot of eating involved in this trip! :-) Also a good deal of drinking. The next day was all-you-can-eat sushi as well as buying a bow tie for the kitties (They liked it fine once we took the bell off).

There may be photos. I'll check tonight.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1089263.html. You can comment here or there.

Birthday (3), a continuation of a story written to @lilfluff's prompt
begun here., continued here

There was so much askew with the world and Trevor’s life had gone completely mad. The only thing he could do was focus on the facts.

He had been stealing - pick-pocketing mostly - and then he had been captured. He’d been given new pants and a collar, his shirt taken away, and then a rich-looking woman had stopped what she was doing to stare at him. He’d been taken home and fed, strange food but tasty, and that had somehow gotten the rich woman in trouble.

And now a maternal-acting woman had fed him even more food. “Her timing is a little bad,” she fussed, “but that isn’t your fault. You’re a skinny thing, aren’t you? Here, have another tart. Herself won’t eat things like this, but that doesn't mean we can’t make them even when She’s visiting.”

The fussing went on. Trevor took in what he could and filed the rest for later study. He was fed, he was given a place to sleep, he was given clean clothes for the second time in two days, and he’d been admonished not to run off, as if they’d done anything to suggest he ought to. If anything, they’d given him too much to keep him there.

When Elva, the matronly woman, found him an hour later, he was naked save for the collar - which, it turned out, didn’t come off - and napping on a large cushion at the foot of Lady Catherine’s bed. “What?” he asked, at the raised eyebrow Elva gave him. “It’s her birthday, too.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1089005.html. You can comment here or there.

Places One Doesn't Go, a continuation story, involving Winter
After /concurrent with “Nothing could possib-lie go wrong.”

“Hey, the insurance convention’s down the street!”

Festivals like this one were not exactly Winter’s cup of tea, nor were they his forte, nor were they a place of pleasure for him. They were loud and raucous, chaotic by nature, and crowded. And as much as he disliked them, other people disliked him being there.

“Look, man, I don’t know what they told you at the academy, but that’s just not undercover. Also, I’m not dealing anything illegal here.”

They were, however, the best place to meet other Strand-weavers, if you knew the proper places to look.

“Excuse me.” The woman in the pottery booth looked less likely to dislike him on sight than many. Her strands were calm and her peace was deep and thorough. “Have you seen anyone else who looks grossly out of…”

“Hey, who do you kids think you are! This is a private party!”

“Excuse me.” He nodded politely at the woman. “I think I see who I’m looking for now.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1088595.html. You can comment here or there.

Deep in the Tesznerov Forest, a short vignette from an old Giraffe Call (random Fic)
Written to [personal profile] thnidu's prompt from 2014. here. New setting. Might be part of something else.

The Forest of Tesznerov gave the impression of being a monolith of green and brown, a forbidding wall that slowed and even stopped progress.

But if you could get past the obstructions and into the forest itself, it was bright and sunny, with patches like meadows almost half an acre large. And if you got even further in, near the top of the hill called Thistle Mountain, you might encounter the Cheramia.

Oostely had been that - not lucky, to call it luck was an insult - skilled, the first in a century to get that far and (one hoped) live to tell about it. She perched on a stump and waited, listening, until a chermiach settled down in front of her.

It chirruped out a greeting. In return, Oostely bowed deeply and responded in her own tongue. The Cheramia were one of the truly foreign creatures to be found within the technical confines of the nation, but if she had to try to describe one, Oostely might do as her great-great-grandmother had done and say "a flying cat-snake with some sort of squirrel tail." They might be as long as the distance between her ankle and hip, but they preferred to coil up like a spring, so they peeked at her through the fluff of their tail.

The chermiach whistle-popped a sound that could be a question, and then squeaked out what sounded like a human word. "Greeeeet," it clucked.

"Greetings," Oostely responded. She could not help but notice how sharp the chermiach's teeth were, or how longs its claws were, or how close it was. But her great-great-grandmother had met one and lived to tell about it, so Oostely chirruped out what she hoped was the word for peace, and prayed it would work.

(the tip jar is a kitty for reasons)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1088485.html. You can comment here or there.

♪When the dog bites, when the bee stings...♫
A very small continuation of ♪Brown Paper Packages♫ and ...Tied up with String.

It's Addergoole, so all AG warnings apply. Suggestions of [former abuse] (highlight for spoilers, if those count in a 125-word ficlet).

Read more...Collapse )

Tip Package ;-)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1088102.html. You can comment here or there.

The Words of Magic, a story-bit of Stranded
This is in part to requests for non-Roundtree (Seasonal Siblings) Stranded stories, part in reply to [personal profile] anke's rather old request which I could not find if I'd fulfilled or not. And because the discussion around said request involved the Language of magic TV Tropes Page...

"Eye of the blind, open for me."

Most people, Nilsa knew, didn't need to do chanting.

"Feet of the crippled, walk forward for me."

As a matter of fact, in all of her time working with the Strands, she'd only met one other person who did formalized ritual with their Strand-spells (and only one other person who called them spells).

"Mouth of the mute, speak your words only to me."

She drew the final line in her chalk diagram and settled into the middle of it. She'd talked to several Workers who thought that her teaching had gone awry and that had caused her dependence on spell and ritual, and three who had heard of Strand-weavers who used rituals and chants.

"Windows gone dark, open your curtains to me."

Which was a lovely thing, in theory. She knew there had been others like her; she knew why, more or less, she was the way she was.

"Clock of the world, show what your hours have seen!"

But until now, she hadn't had a way to see why her teacher had crippled her Strand-weaving like this. She opened her eyes wide, as the projection began playing on the wall, thousands of Strands working together to make a video of the past.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1087614.html. You can comment here or there.

Self-Insert Week 2016
Self-Insert Week 2016
Mary Sues and self-inserts have gotten a bad rap. What started as a fun way to interact with a fandom or genre has turned into a joke. When the hell did we start taking fandom so seriously?

So we’re doing it. We’re putting ourselves back in the stories...

When is it?

The week will be the second in May, May 8th - May 14th.

This sounds like an awesome idea. Let's do it!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1087050.html. You can comment here or there.

Dungeon-bound, a continuation for fun (Fae Apoc)
After Dungeons, written last year, which includes forced imprisonment.

The whimper was the hardest part.

That was... well, it was true, but it was dishonest in its truth.

It was the hardest thing for Tan to do, to make the sound as if she had broken him, to let her thing she was winning.

The hardest thing about this whole process was not letting that whimper be true.

She said it had been a month. He could guess she was close to honest about that. Meals came irregularly, but the dead-eyed man who brought them would say "breakfast" or "Lunch" or "dinner," even though there was never more than two thin meals in a day and they were almost all the same mush. Tan had counted by the pit of hunger in his stomach, and then he'd counted by the times she visited her other prisoners.

"I suppose I'll have to leave you in here a year," their captor had threatened, but Tam was not worried. For one, he could last longer than a year in worse circumstances than this. For another, she did not strike him as the sort who was willing to wait that long.

No, she would come down again long before another month had passed. And then the fun would begin.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1086958.html. You can comment here or there.

Aging in Cloverleaf, a story of...well, of Cloverleaf... now available for Patreon patrons~

Aging in Cloverleaf

Fiana was getting old, and Edgar was not...

Years after they helped to build Cloverleaf, a plumber and his wife discuss their choice.

Now available on Patreon to all patrons!

Pledge just $1 a month to gain access to all these stories; pledge $5 or more a month to prompt these tales.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1086715.html. You can comment here or there.

Nothing could possib-lie go wrong... a story beginning of Summer/Bishop/Mellie
I got lots of prompts for the triad but I'll call this kiarrith's.

Title from this Simpsons quote

"So, this is..." Bishop was usually the calm one, but today, he was nervous. He was't exactly shifting from foot to foot or anything, but that could be because they were walking rather quickly down Main Street, which didn't leave him room to fidget. "Well, what exactly is it?"

"Well, exactly..." Summer shot him a cheerful grin. "It's a bunch of things. It's a craft festival that the townies and the visiting parents love. It's a music festival after-hours that the students - and some of the townies - like. And its..." She gestured vaguely with both hands.

Mellie picked it up. "It's a thing for people like your family, right?"

"If you know the right places and the right people, yeah. There are Strand-workers everywhere." Summer tapped the wooden fence three times in a triangle, and a door swung open. "Like this place."

"Are you sure..." Bishop hesitated, his hand on the fence.

"Oh, come on," Summer coaxed. She had her bright smile on, the one that generally made either him or Mellie go along with her plans. "They're friendly folks, these people. Strand workers almost always are."

"Hey, who do you kids think you are! This is a private party!"

Summer's smile slid off her face.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1086184.html. You can comment here or there.

The Thing about Tangling... (an experimental fic of Spring/Stranded World)
This follows Tangled, Day Job, and Tangling isn't just a walk in the park.

"Ready to go?"

The thing about being a tangler...

"Hold on, just give me a minute..."

Is that you were touching strands all the time.

"Spring, my love, can you be organized for more than fifty seconds?"

And running your hands through other people's lines all the time.

"If you wanted someone organized, Lance, you should have bothered someone else's stars."

But you couldn't touch other people's strands...

"I didn't want anyone else's stars. Here's your left shoe."

...without getting tangled up yourself.

"Awesome. Now, where's my purse?"

And the thing about knots was...

"You didn't leave it on the bus again, did you?"

...they tended to manifest in strange ways when you weren't paying attention.

"No, no, you brought it home for me. Remember?"

...and when you were distracted, tangled up in someone else, it was easy to not pay attention.

"That's right... here it is. What would you do without me?"

"Oh, I'd get by. But it wouldn't be nearly as fun."

And the thing about being a tangler was...

"Well, I do aim to please."

...When you got tangled up, you got really tangled up.

"And that's what I love about you. Well, part of it."

Close with a kiss, and find yourself even further tangled.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1085749.html. You can comment here or there.

A Rude Awakening, a ficlet of Addergoole
I found the first half of this in my e-mail. To be honest, I have no idea where I'd been intending to go with this, but this is where it ended up.

"You're interesting."

Whistler was not sure what he'd expected, but that was probably not it. The short girl was perched on the footboard of the bed, wearing an indigo silk bathrobe and, as far as he could tell, nothing else. And she was staring at him.

In terms of 'ways to wake up,' it was definitely his weirdest yet, even here in Addergoole. And yesterday he'd woken up to screams and a power outage.

"I'm..." Whistler moved to sit up and realized that he was pinned down. No... strapped. He looked to either side of him slowly - dresser, open door to the bathroom, large posters of landscapes. It was anything but institutional. He looked down at his chest. Straps. He moved a wrist. More straps. "I'm strapped down," he finished. Just because it was a familiar feeling didn't mean he liked it.

"Well..." She rubbed her neck, where, Whistler noticed, there were bruises in the shape of fingers. "I figured I ought to make sure you were calm before we started talking."

Whistler swallowed. Oh, no. "Oh, god," he whispered. "Did I..."

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1085477.html. You can comment here or there.

A Stretch after Sleep, a continuation
After After Long Sleep.

There were five men staring at her. Well, she had just stepped out of the ground.

Besides, Aster was used to staring, except that the looks they were giving her were not admiring, they were concerned. That was new. She checked herself - nope, she was still Masked, although she was naked. She'd been clothed when she was buried, she was pretty sure. But no, nothing but a few sad tatters, and the air was a bit chilly.

The man in front cleared his throat. "Ah. Did we wake you?"

"Well, some rather annoying people stuck me in the ground..." She frowned. "So I suppose it's more as if you rescued me."

"Buried you?" The man that spoke this time sounded urgent, worried. "When? That is, how long ago?" Aster frowned at him.

"Well, let me see.. I believe it was around seventeen-ninety..."

"Seventeen?" The first man stared at her. "Well, then you're not one of the returned gods, at least. But then what ARE you?"

"What I am," Aster answered, perhaps a wee bit crossly, "is hungry."

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1085398.html. You can comment here or there.

Road Trip Write-Up the Beginning of a fic
This was supposed to be a blorp of description and then, well, this happened. This happens a couple years before the current Regine-visits-Cya story.

It was a nice time of year for a travel: early autumn, and a mild one at that, not too hot and not too cold. The roads were solid and smooth from Cloverleaf all the way to what had once been Denver; the first week went quickly. Not only were the roads smooth, but they were relatively safe; Cloverleaf had a long arm, and was known not to tolerate bandits.

Past Denver, that all changed. A week's travel was as far as Cloverleaf maintained the roads, and thus was as far as their protection was assumed to reach. The roads got bumpy - nothing a couple quick Workings couldn't smooth out, but that took time. And the bandits got brave - nothing the sight of Leo couldn't handle, in most cases, but that, too, took time. Sometimes they actually had to fight some thief or slaver whose ambition was greater than their sense.

Outside of what had once been Des Moines and now was a collective of small city-states around Crater Lake, they ran into a different sort of threat - bureaucracy. The toll-booth takers wanted a tithe to use the one paved, clear, safe road, and they wanted written statements of intent, and a tithe of any profits made while in the Crater Lake region. What's more, they didn't take Cloverleaf clovers for payment, muttering something about "fairy money."

It wasn't the first time they'd run into things like that, so they paid the toll in more acceptable currencies and made mental notes about the situation. They could probably conquer the Crater States, but there were easier, cleaner ways to turn people's opinions around. If trade didn't do it, culture might. If that didn't, maybe education. And failing that, well, they could always send a small team of their ambassadors.

It had been a few years - decades, really - since Cya had been running Cloverleaf actively, but it was still her baby, after all.

Just outside the mess that had been Chicago, they ran into a slaver ring. That took a day off of their time, but, while Cya could tolerate the existence of slavery, there were certain types of slavers that made her skin crawl.

Besides, it didn't hurt to leave a reminder. Cloverleaf might be nearly two weeks' travel away, but they would interfere where they wanted to, when people were doing awful things.

The Find Cya had done was sending them quite far afield indeed. They traveled through the night to get around once-Chicago, then settled for a day in a quiet little patch of forest to rest. Then it was on to Detroit.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1085173.html. You can comment here or there.

Birthday (2), a continuation of a story written to @lilfluff's prompt
begun here.

It hadn't been Cathleen's intention to disrupt her staff and throw a monkey-wrench in her own birthday party. She liked her staff; many of them had been transferred to her house when she came of age from her Lady Mother's home, and thus had grown up with her. Her landscaper, Cahir, had played tag with her in the labyrinths behind the Baronial manor. Her chatelaine, Elva, had been her nanny when she was little. She wanted to take care of them all; she wanted to protect them from her Lady Mother, as much as she could.

And now Elva was giving Cathleen a look much like she had when Cathleen was very young and had gotten herself muddy and bloody just before a big event. Cathleen looked up at her chatelaine, sighed, and looked back at the boy. "It's his birthday too," she tried, and it was; that had been what had caught her eye.

Elva just clucked. "Wash your hands, my Lady. I'll make sure the birthday boy here gets plenty to eat - and a bath. Tomorrow you can tell me what you're going to do with him. Today..."

Cathleen sighed. "Today," she allowed. "I'll deal with my Lady Mother today."

And then tomorrow she could do as she'd always done, and get all muddy and dirty in her own private unbirthday celebration. By then, the Baroness would have moved on to other things, and Cathleen - and her new co-birthday acquisition - could celebrate in peace.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1084842.html. You can comment here or there.

A Wink, a story of Stranded
Written to [personal profile] inventrix's prompt to my Very Small Prompt call.

There was a man at the festival with an eye-tattoo that winked.

Autumn hadn't been sure the first time. There were several beautiful pieces of ink wandering around this 'fest - it was pushing a hundred degrees out, and everyone was wearing just about as little as they could get away with. And there was this man, topless and wearing short khaki shorts and Birkenstocks, and the eye centered on his spine had a perfectly-shaded iris. And then it was closed. And then there was the pupil again.

It had been a long day already and it was only noon, the first time she saw the tattoo. Autumn'd gotten herself some water, stepped into the shade of her tent, and munched on a nectarine.

The second time the man wandered by, she had a small set of strands laid out over the pathway. Dozens of people had stepped over them without knowing, brushing through them, hardly moving them.

The man with the eye on his back paused. Deliberately, he turned his back to her.

The iris was blue, the ice-hue that always tripped her up. It was looking straight at her.

The eye-tattoo blinked again and was back to a black-and-grey drawing. The man turned around, looking straight at Autumn. Deliberately, and with a sardonic grin, he winked at her.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1084536.html. You can comment here or there.

April Patreon Theme Poll!
Hello! It's time for the April Theme Poll!

These polls determine the theme for Patreon writing for the month, spurring the prompt call and from there several stories.

Want to check out my Patreon? Look here.
For just $1, you can read all the Patreon stories; for $5/month, you can prompt in the prompt calls!

Don't have Dreamwidth? Please feel free to vote in the comments.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1084265.html. You can comment here or there.


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