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Call for Prompts: Lost, abandoned, and left behind
Leaf
aldersprig
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.


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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!

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