inventrix: (Default)
there's gonna be a part 2 it's just not done yet

The final chime rang out through the auction hall, signalling the winning bid. The handler tugged lightly at her leash, signalling Kylie to stand and walk off the stage, where they'd clip a tag to her collar with her new owner's bid number before shunting her back to the waiting room.
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inventrix: (Default)
So I wasn't originally gonna post this for a while but then Lyn needed a bribe so. Based on spec assumptions for the chess AU that involves Leo being jealous and Cya being short-tempered from stress of the situation

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inventrix: (Default)
card

Velie had long since stopped keeping track of the days. The tally marks from her early weeks and months were still there, scratched into the cell wall next to her cot, marking how long it had taken her to lose hope of ever being released; the last day before she gave up on justice being served. The last day before she accepted a life of serving a sentence for a crime she didn't commit.

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inventrix: (Default)
For reference (I made my own >.>)

Card inside the cut )
inventrix: (Default)
Not that Kouveig would ever admit it where his oldest brother could hear, but plants were boring. Yeah, sure, it was useful - for eating, houses, not getting killed, blah blah - but the actual plants? They just sat there. ...Unless you made them do something.

He glanced surreptitiously around the rest of the class; they were all paying attention to the lesson and their assigned plant. Schooling his expression to one of studious concentration, he muttered a Working.

The biggest tree in the greenhouse bent over, waving its branches gently in a slow-motion macarena.
inventrix: (Default)
Nobody wanted to buy her.

In an earlier year - an earlier life - Amalia would have thought that would be a good thing. If nobody bought her, then she didn't have to play servant-pet-slave for anyone; she didn't have to give up her personhood or identity or any of the things she had always assumed came with the "job". Being held in a pet shop wasn't nearly as bad; like being wrongly held in prison.
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inventrix: (Default)
unedited, unreviewed, written hastily just before bed, read at your own risk

Daevir woke, groggy and disoriented. It was dark - too dark to make out where he was, he thought, until he blinked and realized he was, in fact, wearing a blindfold. This was not a great start.

As he went through the process of reacquainting himself with his existence in reality, he came to several other realizations, none of which made the situation any better. His arms were tied behind his back and shackled to something. His ankles were also shackled to something. And worst of all, there was a collar on his neck - heavy, solid and inflexible.

"Shit," he muttered thickly through the lingering fogginess, and was rewarded by a pointed toe jabbing into his ribs.
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inventrix: (Default)
Clare's doing this thing and I was like hey cool that looks like fun, I'm gonna try.

So. The goal is to write one story using a bingo on each card.

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inventrix: (theo)
A steady hissing filled the cafe, emanating from the heart of a billowing cloud of steam where there was, supposedly, an espresso bar.

"Ten minutes until open-- Sam, did you break the machine again?" Theodore Gainsfeld, the owner, manager, and supposedly most in-charge person at Something with Dragons, had just emerged from the stock room into the public area and was now attempting to waft the dissipating water vapor away from the shelves of books. "I did ask you not to tinker until after business hours for a reason."

"It was just a small adjustment," came a voice from within the cloud. "I'll have it fixed once I find - ow - the power cable and - ah! hot! - turn off the steam."

Theo looked heavenward with an exaggerated sigh. "Right, I'll go get the box fan, you keep at it. You all right there, Edward?"

The blonde man sitting by the window nodded without looking from his books, or notes. "The steam gets sucked back into the kitchen, not up here."

"Excellent," Theo said cheerily. "I shall fetch the fan, then. Someone has to save the books, after all." And with that, he vanished back into the stock room.
inventrix: (Default)
Another teleporter from Addergoole. Number six in the Air event.

Calcifer Stein scanned over the Games roster for the student in question and put a perfectly innocent asterisk next to her name. Nobody would question it; even knowing whose copy it was, no one would suspect anything of it. And the roster, it had the names of the students, their Mentors, and their year. Enough information to easily find them, later.

This one would be graduating at the end of next year. Calcifer considered the timing carefully. She probably already had her two children for her school and, as past experience has proved, the female Addergoole graduates were rarely willing to have another child, let alone sign them away to another project in any capacity. Which left the theft of genetic material as the only option.

Calcifer sighed, chewing absently at the end of a pen cap. It was a tricky option, legally speaking. What with the Law regarding maternal rights, the material had to be donated willingly. The only loophole that had worked in the past was that full disclosure was not necessary...

Berena. Berena would make a good surrogate. She liked children, she was always thrilled to assist her former Mentor, and she was excellent at persuasion and prevarication. Motherhood would make her effectively useless for any other projects or experiments for a few years, but with Wells as the genetic father again...

One more generation. One step closer to opening a gate to Elleheim.
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