aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (NaNo2008)

Siblings bicker, it’s the way of things. My twin and I bicker more than most, but less than you’d expect from personalities born by dividing the fundamental stuff of the universe into its opposite pieces and giving each form. We both had the same talents, and, being twins, we did look a lot alike. I like to think I’m the better looking one- she spends too much effort on perfumes and clothes that bind some part of her anatomy in unrealistic proportion, and frankly I think the goth look is just way overdone. )
aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (NaNo2008)

I speak for the dead, and I speak to the gods. Sounds impressive, even if you couldn’t fit it on a business card, doesn’t it? Today was one of those days I wished they’d both shut the hell up, though.

So was yesterday.

Anyone care to take bets on tomorrow? )


It was a solid week before anybody up here got the news about the Collection. Most all of us knew somebody who’d gotten an email, but Vermont has had the internet for long enough that even we don’t look much at a mail that comes with two hundred other names tacked onto it. And it had the damndest air of rumor about it, with not a single person here getting one for themselves.

At first we figured it was just odds- there weren’t but a few hundred of us in town, and pretty near all of us are related if you go back a hundred years or so, and we reckoned we were just one of the lucky extended families that hadn’t gotten picked. Musta been some folks down towards the border that got taken up, or some of the flatlanders who’d staked out a patch.

A few months after learning that 5 billion of the world’s people had disappeared, though, we came to the conclusion that not a single one of them had hailed from Vermont. And boy, did we go nuts with that one. )
aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (NaNo2008)

I was eight when the Rapture happened. We were taking a spelling test when all the kids in my class made a popping noise and vanished, and there was just a pile of dust in their seats. It was just me and the teacher, and then she vanished too. I finished taking the test and then went out to the playground. )
aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (NaNo2008)
This chapter is definitely going to become the prologue.


I sat around the fire with my fellow gods and goddesses as an argument raged. There were over a hundred of us, newly reawakened, and not one of us knew why. A roll call had been started and aborted three times, given up in the general melee, but it was clear that we came from a vast range of times and places in mortal history. A panther lay curled at my feet, making her opinion clear periodically with a low growl. To my left were familiar faces- Athena carefully fletching her arrows with owl feathers, two minor gods of Phoenecian harbors sitting stalwart in the swirl of deity around them. I recognized some of the northern gods Ares had spoken of meeting in his travels by their wolf skins and pale, plaited beards.

“You there, in the bedsheet.” A redhead, imposing despite barely topping my shoulder, gestured impatiently in my direction. “Ye be Roman?”  )
aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (coffee)
Author's note: Two chapters, this time, because they're shortish. Martha's chapter is meant to be flashback, and is the first deviation from a standard timeline. Other flashback chapters will be identified as they're posted- I'll likely shift it around so that it's roughly in chronological order with the next revision.


Wherever I was, it was cold. I felt like I had shattered to a million pieces- which I learned later was pretty near the truth. After some improbably long amount of time it got darker and warmer, and slowly I became aware of a few things. There was a polar bear looking at me, I was still dead, and someone very far away was calling my name. )


It was getting cold, and she knew that he wasn’t on his way to pick her up, there was no limo, there was no date, and there was certain to be humiliation on Monday. She sat, shoving tulle out of the way, and buried her face in her hands, just as a car came squealing by and she saw several rapid camera flashes.

This might get a bit graphic for some. )
aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (apostrophe AND homophone avenger!)

The mood in the camp was warlike. Most all of us were gods of battle in some fashion or another, so it didn’t take much to get it there anyway, but this was over the top even for us. The fistfight had spread outside the viking tent and was threatening to knock over Brigid’s still, which was likely the cause of her ungodly hollering.

Being the lone representative of the kinder, gentler side of things was getting to be right tiresome, but I strode into the fray, soothing tempers and bruises as I went. )
aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (notgoth)

Every teenager goes through a pagan phase, right? Well, at least, the sort who get stuffed into lockers and prank called by the captain of the football team do. It’s easy power, dangled in front of someone who believes that if they could just get a little tiny bit of it for themselves they could make the world more fair. Fair for them, of course, and maybe not so much for other people, not that I saw it that way when I went through it either.

I sat across from one of my students, a walking stereotype of the goth-pagan-loner. )
aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (NaNo2008)
[Author's note: I'm probably going to break Mollie's first bit into multiple chapters- at least two. This chapter switches to the POV of Tom, "professor of flaming philosophy" and fabulous ghost narrator. Several of the chapters are written in a different voice, mostly for my own entertainment and to try something different. I've gotten mixed feedback- some people find it distracting, others love it, so be sure to let me know!]


The very last thing I can swear to seeing while I was alive was one incredibly hot woman appearing in front of me, grabbing my groin, and saying something about how she was from the collections department. Unusual enough, but more so considering I’ve never in my life found women to be attractive. I definitely don’t remember dying, but I know she was still there the next time I was aware of anything, and that thing was a tiny pile of dessicated person that she was vacuuming up. Kind of wish I’d known about that before I paid to get my name on the list of people who would help test the viability of some scandinavian freeze-drying system as an alternative to being buried.

She vanished as soon as the dust was gone, and that was the last I saw of her, but out of the corner of my eye I saw one flicker, then another, then another, until there were over a dozen people hovering what I knew to be incorporeally in my living room.

What the hell, I decided to strike up a conversation. Hi, I'm Tom. Are you dead too? )
aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (NaNo2008)

I speak for the dead.

Time was, that was the sort of thing that got you looked at funny, but lately there’s a lot more of us- and a whole lot more of them. A hair under six billion, actually.

They really don’t have as much to say as you’d expect, most of them. Not much more than when they were alive, and not much more profound or particularly different from their living selves, give or take a bit of hollering and complaining about their new situation. What they do have going for them is volume. They talk a lot. I mean, an awful lot. Like non-stop chattering from some shitty AM radio station that you receive at the base of your skull, all day long.

So it's no wonder some of us go crazy from it all... )


aunthippie: old hippies in tie dye (Default)
Kindly Aunt Hippie's Tips For Livin' Right

August 2017

2728 293031  


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 23rd, 2017 06:07 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios