Log in

No account? Create an account
Previous Entry Share Flag Next Entry
Call for Prompts: Lost, abandoned, and left behind
The call for prompts is now open! For the next 24 hours, I will taking your prompts on the theme of Lost, abandoned, and left behind.

I will write (over the next week) at least one microfic (150-300 words) to each prompter. If you donate, I will write to all of your prompts, and write at last 300 additional words for each $5 you donate, to the prompt of your choice.

If I reach $30 in donations, I will post an additional 2000-word fic on the subject of the audience's choice. This level has been reached!

If I reach $60, I will write at least 2 microfics for everyone, whether or not they donated.

If I reach $90, I will write to every prompt I get in the next 24 hours - if something truly bugs me, I'll ask you to re-prompt. At this point, please allow up to 2 weeks for the writing to be completed.

If I reach $120, I will record a podcast of an audience-choice story and post it for everyone to read. Also, everyone who tipped will get double wordcount.

If I reach $150, I will release an e-book of all of the fiction written to this call and the last one. At this point, please allow up to 4 weeks for the writing to be completed.

I'm still saving up for the giraffe carpet, which will be installed the first week of October!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/129872.html. You can comment here or there.

  • 1
I want to read more about the unicorns and factory setting. I propose an abandoned unicorn foal found by a startled bypasser.

Tir Na Cali -- People are always moving out and leaving their pets behind. What if someone did that with one of the catpeople?

Faerie Apocalypse -- A lost deity desperately searching for some vestige of their home culture/people.

Preconceptions, of Unicorns/Factories

this turned out a bit weird.
Here is the link to the original story. This is a piece cluudle wrote in the same setting... and that's the Unicorn/Factory landing page so far ;-)

Giulian had heard about the villages along the river. Every new Administrator to the Town had; the villages that fed the Town and sent its factories workers, its schools students, were part of the information files passed from Administrator to Administrator or, most frequently, from Administrator's estate to the successor. Giulian's predecessor had not, in fact, died, which made him a rarity in this corner of the country - Giulian himself had been told he'd been given the position because of his no-nonsense attitude and stout constitution, but he was fairly certain it was simply because he'd become a nuisance and a position with a ninety-percent fatality rate seemed a good place to get rid of him. But the poor man he was replacing, rather than quietly dying, had gone quite gibbering mad, so his notes were of dubious use.

Indeed, the whole packed of information was half speculation and half outright myth, of no use at all except to explain, in part, why the remaining ten percent of Giulian's predecessors had gone mad.

The rest of the madness (and the fatality rate) was easily explained after seeing the town and, after two days in the position, Giulian knew he would have a shorter tenure than most if he did not get out of town for a walk. Just a short walk, a breather, completely within regulations, even if Administrators and other high-level Bureaucrats were discouraged from leaving the Town proper.

The roads were smoother than he'd expected, outside the town - not paved, but graded, packed gravel, not a rut to be seen, and the drainage ditches deeper and more effective than those in the Town. The wagons that passed him seemed more high-technology than he'd been led to expect, too, the villagers cleaner and better-dressed.

It was all very curious, and enough that he kept walking long past his self-alloted few moments. The village he passed, too, seemed cleaner than the files and reports suggested, and the fields showed signs of modern crop techniques. The people, however, no matter how clean they were, wanted nothing to do with him, one woman actually going so far as to slam a door in his face.

It was a good deal to think on, and he turned back not because he had seen enough, but because the sun was beginning to set. The roads were generally safe this close to the Towns, but he had brought neither lamp nor coat, and the night would be dark and cold; indeed, the moon had begun to rise before he could see the Town's walls, glinting off the water in the drainage ditches, shining back in opalescent light...

He turned back as the light moved. There, in the ditch, that wasn't a reflection. Some sort of gem? Heedless of the dirt, he scrambled down the edge of the road to peer into the ditch. No, nothing but a rock. He turned back, disappointed, only to have motion flicker in the corner of his eye again.

Something his gibbering predecessor had said came to mind. "You can't see them, of course. None of us are pure enough. But in the corner of your eye, they're always there. Glaring at you."

Re: Preconceptions, of Unicorns/Factories

I would so love to see more of this! I really like the setting. (I keep thinking that "The Unicorn Factory" is a cool name.)

Re: Preconceptions, of Unicorns/Factories

(I agree, it's kind of an awesome name).

I like it, too, and I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Tïr na Cali - the lost kitty-girl

They couldn’t have unlocked her collar if they wanted to; she wasn’t, legally, theirs. The girl they called Patches was a foster-kitty of sorts, placed with them to learn what a household was supposed to be like, and what a slave in that house was supposed to act like.

Where they were moving, however, was a small gated community, a step up the social ladder and the sort of place where a moddie slave would be hard to explain, so they left her behind. They made sure she had plenty of water and food, but packed up around her and set her to her room as they left, so she wouldn’t see them leaving her behind. The youngest petted her behind her furred ears for a while, and cried, forgetting, the way the family often did, that their kitty-girl could speak and understand English as well as any human.

The girl they called Patches, whose mother had called her Tanya-Marie, listened to all of it, and murrowled cutely, because her foster-owners were more comfortable with her miawing than speaking, and waited in her room until they were gone. She wondered, for a while, if she’d done something wrong. Raised in the Agency, she didn’t have the slave instincts that the other servants did; raised by other modified beings, cat-people, she sometimes gave in to feral behaviors. But she’d done everything they asked her to, and, despite all the jokes, she’d never peed on the carpet.

They’d left her her clothes, along with maybe a week’s worth of clothes, but they’d also left, by accident, a small laptop. Tanya-Marie hooked into the internet and began searching.

The walk, once she’d found her route, was long, and hurt her feet, used to indoor living. People stopped her, either for the novelty of talking to a cat-girl or for the concern of seeing a runaway slave, but her tags said she had free rein to wander (she was an Agency cat, after all) and there was nothing they could really do to stop her.

Three weeks later, a hungry and slightly bedraggled Patches showed up, miawing sadly, at her foster-owners’ new house.

Re: Tïr na Cali - the lost kitty-girl

Kitty! Awwww.

Re: Tïr na Cali - the lost kitty-girl

Smart kitty!

That is a big risk there, forgetting that your slaves are people. Lucky for them she only wanted to be with her foster family. somehow I suspect they would have been in trouble if she'd shown up miawing sadly on the front steps of the local Agency office ("What? No-no, you have it all wrong, it was training! Yeah, training! We weren't abandoning her, we were testing her resourcefulness!").

Re: Tïr na Cali - the lost kitty-girl

Hee, yes. And what do they do with her now?

This is SO CUTE. You did a wonderful job of blending well-known motifs of abandoned pets, slavery, and pets tracking down distant owners.

They had damned well better let her in.

Re: Tïr na Cali - the lost kitty-girl

Awwww! *gives the kitteh a tuna*

Re: Tïr na Cali - the lost kitty-girl

Awwww!! She can come live with us, although we already have a Patches, so she'd have to go by her birth name.

Re: Tïr na Cali - the lost kitty-girl

Awww.. poor kitty-girl, her foster family doesn't deserve her...

and in that universe I think I'd either be running a home for lost cat-people...or campaigning for emancipation. [or maybe both].

Re: Tïr na Cali - the lost kitty-girl

Awww... Poor kitty. :'(

Re: Tïr na Cali - the lost kitty-girl

>>They’d left her her clothes, along with maybe a week’s worth of clothes,...


(Deleted comment)
  • 1